y city under any more cordial sky then or now: men loved, hated, made and broke bargains, lied to women, kept a foo

could have looked through the window of a low stone house in Notre Dame Street, Montreal, one could have seen a priest joyously playing a viol

little shrine in one corner, wherein were relics of a saint. Of necessaries even there were few. They were unremarkable, save in the c

ost huge, and the violin lay tucked under his chin like a mere toy. In the eye was a penetrating but abstracted look, and the countenance had the gravity of a priest lighted by a cheerful soul within. It had been said of Dollier de Casson that once, attacked by two renegade Frenchmen, he had broken the leg of o

al, and the priest-musician was infinitely farther off: the miles which the Church measures between the priest and his lay boyhood are not easily reckoned. But such as Dollier de Ca

was waiting for some one whom he had not seen for these four years. Time passed. More and more did the broad sonorou

ross his eyes, he slowly wrapped the violin in a velvet cloth, put it away in an iron box, and locked it u

it, maybe to hear it,

e there was a prie-dieu in a corner, and above

y it was opened. A stalwart young man stepped inside. He looked round, pleased, astonished, and glanced at the violin, then meaningly towards the nearl

having at the same time a look behind this-an alert, profound speculation, which gave his face singular force. He was not so tall as the priest in the next room,

ied look shot up in his face, and then with an almost impossible softness he drew the bow across the strings, getting a distant delicate note, which seemed to float and tenderly multiply upon itself-a variation, indeed, of the tune which De Casson had played. A rapt look came into his eyes. And all that look behind the general look of his face-the loo

stant. "My dear abbe!" he cri

ut I had to provide my own music!" He laughed, and ra

ying the same o

original

ns, just before you ca

ar in King Louis's ships, and forgetting the good old way of fighting by land, at which he once served his prentice time-with

ed with a laugh. "Bu

eur Pierre le Moyne of Iberville' next," the oth

o; I m

plagues his old friend and teacher, as he

d: "I never had a pupil whose teasing was so pleasant, poor humourist that

e a young man, longing to fight for his king by land alone, and with special fighting of his own to do hard by"-(here De Ca

ng of the sp

and the l

iled a

rief note of it. After years of play and work,-play in France a

battle

ghts, our

our golden

ronte

ghts and the lilies are there, but Frontenac, the great, brave Frontenac,

-there is no other way

nd the young man turned from the world he used to know, and said: 'There are but three things in the world worth doing-loving, roaming, and fighting.' Therefore, after one day, he turned from the poor little Court-game at Quebec, travelled to Montreal, spent a few

s hand on Iberville's shoulder. "Pierre," he said, "I welcome you as one brother might

aggini you gave me. It was of the things for remembering.

arn it when they have bartered away every dream. It is enough to hav

Iberville's e

h a thing as

st's arms. Then he added: "Abbe, you know what I long to hear. You ha

within these three month

r letter that you had ne

t went

him. I had a birch-bark letter from him,

's voice singing near by. Th

eigneur! O the

ucks in a d

gave him a ri

f gold from h

a maid was th

gneur! O the yo

priest. "As freely as you will. Perrot is t

tant the coureur du bois had caught the hands of

but you make Nick Perrot

e here nor myself could bring you lower than you stand, f

drink with a new, and eat with a coming friend, and quarrel with either; but 'tis only the old fri

good comrade," sai

when we were at the Portneuf you made some

aid Iberville; "com

er day," answe

d in fine skins and furs, with long waving hair, more like a Viking than a man of fashion, and carrying a courtly and yet sportive look, as though he could laugh at the miseries of the sinful world. Three strange comrades were these, who knew each other so far as one man can know an

d Iberville. "I wan

s we talk," u

soon eating and drin

y the ab

ret was gone to England with her father. That was a year after you left, now about three y

es, in the English navy I

up surprised.

untry," said Iberville, "when we swo

trouble?" as

own my servant, who had been with me since from the first. Afterwards in a parley I saw him, and we exchanged-compliments. The sor

other leaven worked,

y," responded Iberville. "

English governor said you were as brave a gentleman as ever played

led. "Frontenac railed a

he news of Radisson," interjected Perrot.

I was summoned to the governor. He commanded me to go back to Quebec. I was about to ask him of Mademoiselle when there came a tap at the door. The governor looked at me a little sharply.

to see what was for seeing; for here was our good abbe alone among the wolv

said: 'Monsieur l'Abbe, I am glad to meet a friend-an old friend-of

ospect, and kept looking into the fire and

tness; only his eyes showing the great interest he f

es from the fire and tur

she came to me, and, laying her hand upon my arm, said: 'Monsieur

ering, for a foolish quarrel of years ago, still are cherished foes. I wish your help to make them both happier; for no man can be happy and hate.' And I gave my word to do so." Here P

patiently, yet grasping the

,' she answered, 'by the right of lifelong debt I ask for peace.' 'Is that all?' said I. 'Tell him,' she added, 'I hope we may

aused, and again I

e her. When she came back she handed me a little packet. 'Give it to Monsieur Ibervill

. It held a silver buckle tied by a velvet ribbon. A flush crept slowly up Iberville's f

" he said. "I very well r

r, monsieur, when she took it from your

bing it on his sleeve as though to brighten it. "S

in Boston, and that he was to go to Fort Albany at Hudson'

onsieur, who are the poachers? No?

Perrot. "Are you sure of that?

hat before he died. He also told how Bucklaw went with Radisson to the Spaniards' country treasure-hunting. Ah! there are many fools in the world. They did not

was abou

in Boston? Peste! I found that they were all like men in purgatory-sober and grave. Truly. And so dull! Never a saint-day, never a feast, never a grand council when the wine, the rum, flow so free, and you shall eat till you choke. Nothing. Everything is stupid; they do not smile. And so the Indians make war! Well, I have fo

lieutenant, is at Hudson's Bay, and next summer he will go with the great William Phips-Tonnerre, what a name-William Phip

and this was one of them. But having made his speech, he set

said: "Perrot, you saw her in New Yo

inkled. "There w

d your master, where is he?' she asked with a fine smile. 'My friend Monsieur Iberville?' I said; 'ah! he will be in Quebec soon.' Then I told her of the abbe, and she

ad at it with good-humour. But presently a hard look came on his face, and he was changed from

ss than gold from a woman's cha

stoles to Michilimackinac fo

. Well, wha

shalling his resources. Presently he glanced round the room. His eyes fell on a map. That was it. It was a mere outline, but enough. Putting his finger on it, he sent it up, up, up, till it settled on the shores of Hudson's Bay. Again he ran the finger

f war," he said. "And a w

loated into a powerful melody, as a stream creeps softly through a weir, and after many wanderings broadens suddenly into a great stream. He had found his theme. Its effect

these lads to kiss-A lady of the Court for whom he might easily have torn his soul to rags, but for a fair-faced English girl, ever like a delicate medallion in his eye-A fight with the English in the Spaniards' country-His father blessing him as he went forth to France-A dark figure taking a hundred shapes, and yet always meaning the same as when he-Iberville-said over the gov

not to do with the past: a dream grown into a fact, shap

r the spell of that music his body seemed to grow larger. He fingered his sword

nodded and seized Iberville's hand. "Bravo

iolin. "What do you int

you will commend, abbe: at Hudson's Bay to win back fort

purpose," added

my conscience. I go for my kin

with you? Y

erville's face darkened. "I wish mor

l lead? And

te-Helene and Maricourt, Perrot and a stout company o

lle, with a winning smile, ran an arm over his shou

a moment afterwards the three