A trumpeter stepped forward, followed by a tall young officer dressed in the uniform of a rifleman. Both gave the salute to Arnold and received their instructions from him in a low voice. The young officer took from his commander a sealed despatch, and, drawing his sword, attached to it a white handkerchief. The sight of this handkerchief explained the whole movement. "A summons to surrender!" was the word that passed along the Continental ranks, and nearly everybody laughed. The officers could scarcely conceal their disgust, and some of them loudly protested against being compelled to witness the humiliation which they were certain was about to ensue. "A flag of truce!" exclaimed the crowds on the ramparts of the city, and their curiosity was excited as to the purport of the contemplated parley. It is safe to say that no one suspected a demand for capitulation, as nothing could appear more ridiculous under the circumstances. The officer with the trumpeter advanced rapidly over the vacant ground which lay between their line of battle and the walls of Quebec. At stated intervals, according to the rules of the service, the trumpet was sounded, but no response came from the city. Finally the two envoys stopped and stood in full view of the two camps. "What a handsome fellow it is," said Zulma to Pauline. The girls were in an excellent position for observing all that took place, and were so interested that even the timid Pauline forgot her anxieties about her father. "Do you mean the trumpeter?" "Oh, he is well enough. But I mean the officer who bears the flag." The two friends were discussing this point when their attention was arrested by a movement at the gate almost beneath them. A British officer walked out alone and went direct to the flag-bearer. "It cannot be," exclaimed Pauline. "Yes, it is no other," replied Zulma with a laugh. "Roderick!" "Yes, and no better choice could have been made. A handsome loyalist against a handsome rebel. But there is a disparity of age." "Hardly." "I beg your pardon. Our tall, beautiful rebel is hardly twenty-one, I am sure, while your Lieutenant, Pauline, is more mature." It was indeed Roderick Hardinge who had been commissioned to go forward and meet the American messenger. As he neared him, the two young officers bowed politely to each other and exchanged the military salute. Then the following brief conversation took place, as learned afterwards from the lips of the participants themselves. "I presume, sir, that you have been detailed to meet me here," said the Continental. "I have that honor, sir," responded Roderick. "And to receive my message." "I beg your pardon, sir, but I regret to say that I have instructions _not_ to receive any message whatever." "But Colonel Arnold demands a parley according to the usages of war."