Produced by Andrew Sly THE SEATS OF THE MIGHTY BEING THE MEMOIRS OF CAPTAIN ROBERT MORAY, SOMETIME AN OFFICER IN THE VIRGINIA REGIMENT, AND AFTERWARDS OF AMHERST’S REGIMENT By Gilbert Parker To the Memory of Madge Henley. CONTENTS Chapter Introduction to the Imperial Edition Prefatory note to First Edition I An escort to the citadel II The master of the King’s magazine III The wager and the sword IV The rat in the trap V The device of the dormouse VI Moray tells the story of his life VII “Quoth little Garaine” VIII As vain as Absalom IX A little concerning the Chevalier de la Darante X An officer of marines XI The coming of Doltaire XII “The point envenomed too!” XIII A little boast XIV Argand Cournal XV In the chamber of torture XVI Be saint or imp XVII Through the bars of the cage XVIII The steep path of conquest XIX A Danseuse and the Bastile XX Upon the ramparts XXI La Jongleuse XXII The lord of Kamaraska XXIII With Wolfe at Montmorenci XXIV The sacred countersign XXV In the cathedral XXVI The secret of the tapestry XXVII A side-wind of revenge XXVIII “To cheat the Devil yet” XXIX “Master Devil” Doltaire XXX “Where all the lovers can hide” Appendix--Excerpt from ‘The Scot in New France’ INTRODUCTION TO THE IMPERIAL EDITION It was in the winter of 1892, when on a visit to French Canada, that I made up my mind I would write the volume which the public knows as ‘The Seats of the Mighty,’ but I did not begin the composition until early in 1894. It was finished by the beginning of February, 1895, and began to appear in ‘The Atlantic Monthly’ in March of that year. It was not my first attempt at historical fiction, because I had written ‘The Trail of the Sword’ in the year 1893, but it was the first effort on an ambitious scale, and the writing of it was attended with as much searching of heart as enthusiasm. I had long been saturated by the early history of French Canada, as perhaps ‘The Trail of the Sword’ bore witness, and particularly of the period of the Conquest, and I longed for a subject which would, in effect, compel me to write; for I have strong views upon this business of compulsion in the mind of the writer. Unless a thing has seized a man, has obsessed him, and he feels that it excludes all other temptations to his talent or his genius, his book will not convince. Before all else he must himself be overpowered by the insistence of his subject, then intoxicated with his idea, and, being still possessed, become master of his material while remaining the slave of his subject. I believe that every book which has taken hold of the public has represented a kind of self-hypnotism on the part of the writer. I am further convinced that the book which absorbs the author,