The enthusiasm of our generous hosts over my effort formed a fitting close to the festivity, and the refrain of "Our Ain Countrie" was carried forth from the room to pass from lip to lip until the whole garrison was wild over it, and many a homesick fellow found sad consolation in my poor effusion of an idle hour. Such a gratification is the highest which a man of taste can receive, and it is to be regretted that more men of genius do not direct their efforts to such pleasing ends. With our friends Poulariez, Joannes, and others in command of the Royal Roussillon, we were provided for in the _Duke_, Captain Renwick, where Kit, Angelique, with her husband, and a score of English officers assembled to bid us farewell, so that our leaving resembled more a party of pleasure than the embarkment of a defeated army. But as we dropped down the stream and stood watching the great rock of Quebec, with its fringe of batteries, and the English flag flying where ours had so proudly held its place for many a day, a sadness fell upon us all. Margaret and I stood somewhat apart from the others. "Hugh, dear, cannot you find some cause for thankfulness?" she said, softly. "Oh yes; like Bougainville, I can at least quote the Psalmist: 'In exitu Israel de-AEgypto, domus Jacob de populo barbaro.'" "Oh, Hugh, do not say that! It has been a blessed land to us. Listen, dear, to what has been my comfort all these years," and with her beauteous face filled with the exaltation of her love she repeated: "The span o' Life's nae lang eneugh, Nor deep eneugh the sea, Nor braid eneugh this weary warld, To part my Love frae me." [Illustration: "The span o' Life's nae lang eneugh."] EPILOGUE The desolate point known as Tadoussac, at the mouth of the river Saguenay, in Canada, is the place of exile of a few officials who guard the interests of the fur trade. Their quarters, a few storehouses, and the little church with its modest presbytere, form an outpost to the civilised world. During the summer season the wandering Indians flock down in their canoes, build their temporary huts, and a constant bustle of trade and barter sets in. Furs are examined, valued, and exchanged for guns, ammunition, clothing, and other luxuries of savage existence. The arrival of the few ships necessary to this primitive commerce makes the only other break in the monotonous existence of the little colony. At the approach of winter the Indiana scatter, and the officials and the solitary priest are prisoners until the spring once more opens for them the doors of the outside world. Here it was, on the evening of the 11th of April, 1782, that the priest sate with his companions in the house of the principal official. At nine o'clock he rose and said good-night to his hosts in his usual manner, but suddenly his whole appearance changed. Drawing back, he raised his hand, and said, in tones of deepest earnestness: