"Nay, I cannot conceive who, out of the legal channel, would dare to reply to them."

"No! no man could guess that my official despatches have been answered by the Marquise de Pompadour! She replies to my despatches to my sovereign!"

"La Pompadour!" exclaimed Philibert in a burst of indignation. "She, the King's mistress, reply to your despatches! Has France come to be governed by courtesans, like imperial Rome?"

"Yes! and you know the meaning of that insult, Philibert! They desire to force me to resign, and I shall resign as soon as I see my friends safe.

I will serve the King in his fleet, but never more in a colony. This poor land is doomed to fall into the hands of its enemies unless we get a speedy peace. France will help us no more!"

"Don't say that, your Excellency! France will surely never be untrue to her children in the New World! But our resources are not yet all exhausted: we are not driven to the wall yet, your Excellency!"

"Almost, I assure you, Philibert! But we shall understand that better after the Council."

"What say the despatches touching the negotiations going on for peace?"

asked Philibert, who knew how true were the Governor's vaticinations.

"They speak favorably of peace, and I think, correctly, Philibert; and you know the King's armies and the King's mistresses cannot all be maintained at the same time--women or war, one or other must give way, and one need not doubt which it will be, when the women rule Court and camp in France at the same time!"

"To think that a woman picked out of the gutters of Paris should rule France and answer your despatches!" said Philibert, angrily; "it is enough to drive honorable Frenchmen mad. But what says the Marquise de Pompadour?"

"She is especially severe upon my opposing the fiscal measures and commercial policy, as she calls it, of her friend the Intendant! She approves of his grant of a monopoly of trade to the Grand Company, and disputes my right, as Governor, to interfere with the Intendant in the finances of the Colony."

Philibert felt deeply this wound to the honor and dignity of his chief.

He pressed his hand in warmest sympathy.

The Governor understood his feelings. "You are a true friend, Philibert," said he; "ten men like you might still save this Colony!

But it is past the hour for the Council, and still Bigot delays! He must have forgotten my summons."

"I think not; but he might have to wait until Cadet, Varin, Deschenaux, and the rest of them were in a condition fit to travel," answered Philibert with an air of disgust.

"O Philibert! the shame of it! the shame of it! for such thieves to have the right to sit among loyal, honorable men," exclaimed, or rather groaned, the Governor. "They have the real power in New France, and we the empty title and the killing responsibility! Dine with me to-night after the Council, Philibert: I have much to say to you."

"Not to-night, your Excellency! My father has killed the fatted calf for his returned prodigal, and I must dine with him to-night," answered Philibert.

"Right! Be it to-morrow then! Come on Wednesday," replied the Governor.

"Your father is a gentleman who carries the principles of true nobility into the walks of trade; you are happy in such a father, Philibert, as he is fortunate in such a son." The Governor bowed to his friend, and rejoined the groups of officers upon the terrace.

A flash, and a column of smoke, white and sudden, rose from the great battery that flanked the Chateau. It was the second signal for the Council to commence. The Count de la Galissoniere, taking the arm of La Corne St. Luc, entered the Castle, and followed by the crowd of officers, proceeded to the great Hall of Council and Audience. The Governor, followed by his secretaries, walked forward to the vice-regal chair, which stood on a das at the head of a long table covered with crimson drapery. On each side of the table the members of the Council took the places assigned to them in the order of their rank and precedence, but a long array of chairs remained unoccupied. These seats, belonging to the Royal Intendant and the other high officers of the Colony who had not yet arrived to take their places in the Council, stood empty.

The great hall of the Castle of St. Louis was palatial in its dimensions and adornments. Its lofty coved ceiling rested on a cornice of rich frieze of carved work, supported on polished pilasters of oak. The panels of wainscoting upon the walls were surrounded by delicate arabesques, and hung with paintings of historic interest--portraits of the kings, governors, intendants, and ministers of state who had been instrumental in the colonization of New France.

Over the Governor's seat hung a gorgeous escutcheon of the royal arms, draped with a cluster of white flags sprinkled with golden lilies, the emblems of French sovereignty in the Colony.

Among the portraits on the walls, besides those of the late and present King,--which hung on each side of the throne,--might be seen the features of Richelieu, who first organized the rude settlements on the St. Lawrence into a body politic--a reflex of feudal France; and of Colbert, who made available its natural wealth and resources by peopling it with the best scions of the motherland, the noblesse and peasantry of Normandy, Brittany, and Aquitaine. There too might be seen the keen, bold features of Cartier, the first discoverer, and of Champlain, the first explorer of the new land and the founder of Quebec. The gallant, restless Louis Buade de Frontenac was pictured there side by side with his fair countess, called by reason of her surpassing loveliness "the divine;" Vaudreuil too, who spent a long life of devotion to his country, and Beauharnais, who nourished its young strength until it was able to resist not only the powerful confederacy of the Five Nations but the still more powerful league of New England and the other English Colonies. There, also, were seen the sharp, intellectual face of Laval, its first bishop, who organized the Church and education in the Colony; and of Talon, wisest of intendants, who devoted himself to the improvement of agriculture, the increase of trade, and the well-being of all the King's subjects in New France. And one more striking portrait was there, worthy to rank among the statesmen and rulers of New France,--the pale, calm, intellectual features of Mere Marie de l'Incarnation, the first superior of the Ursulines of Quebec, who, in obedience to heavenly visions, as she believed, left France to found schools for the children of the new colonists, and who taught her own womanly graces to her own sex, who were destined to become the future mothers of New France.

In marked contrast with the military uniforms of the officers surrounding the council-table were the black robes and tonsured heads of two or three ecclesiastics, who had been called in by the Governor to aid the council with their knowledge and advice. There were the Abbe Metavet, of the Algonquins of the North; Pere Oubal, the Jesuit missionary of the Abenaquais of the East, and his confrere, La Richardie, from the wild tribes of the Far West; but conspicuous among the able and influential missionaries who were the real rulers of the Indian nations allied with France was the famous Sulpicien, Abbe Piquet, "the King's missionary," as he was styled in royal ordinances, and the apostle to the Iroquois, whom he was laboring to convert and bring over to the side of France in the great dispute raised between France and England for supremacy in North America.

Upon the wall behind the vice-regal chair hung a great map, drawn by the bold hand of Abbe Piquet, representing the claims as well as actual possessions of France in America. A broad, red line, beginning in Acadia, traversed the map westerly, taking in Lake Ontario and running southerly along the crests and ridges of the Appalachian Mountains.

It was traced with a firm hand down to far-off Louisiana, claiming for France the great valleys of the Ohio, the Mississippi, and the vast territories watered by the Missouri and the Colorado--thus hemming the English in between the walls of the Appalachian range on the west and the seacoast on the east.

The Abbe Piquet had lately, in a canoe, descended the Belle Riviere, as the voyageurs called the noble Ohio. From its source to its junction with the solitary Mississippi the Abbe had planted upon its conspicuous bluffs the ensigns of France, with tablets of lead bearing the fleur-de-lis and the proud inscription, "Manibus date lilia plenis,"--lilies destined, after a fierce struggle for empire, to be trampled into the earth by the feet of the victorious English.

The Abbe, deeply impressed with the dangers that impended over the Colony, labored zealously to unite the Indian nations in a general alliance with France. He had already brought the powerful Algonquins and Nipissings into his scheme, and planted them at Two Mountains as a bulwark to protect the city of Ville Marie. He had created a great schism in the powerful confederacy of the Five Nations by adroitly fanning into a flame their jealousy of English encroachments upon their ancient territory on Lake Ontario; and bands of Iroquois had, not long since, held conference with the Governor of New France, denouncing the English for disregarding their exclusive right to their own country.

"The lands we possess," said they at a great council in Ville Marie, "the lands we possess were given to us by the Master of Life, and we acknowledge to hold of no other!"

The Abbe had now strong hopes of perfecting a scheme which he afterwards accomplished. A powerful body of the Iroquois left their villages and castles on the Mohawk and Genesee rivers, and under the guidance of the Abbe settled round the new Fort of La Presentation on the St. Lawrence, and thus barred that way, for the future, against the destructive inroads of their countrymen who remained faithful to the English alliance.

Pending the arrival of the Royal Intendant the members of the Council indulged freely in conversation bearing more or less upon the important matters to be discussed,--the state of the country, the movements of the enemy, and not seldom intermingled remarks of dissatisfaction and impatience at the absence of the Intendant.

The revel at Beaumanoir was well known to them; and eyes flashed and lips curled in open scorn at the well-understood reason of the Intendant's delay.

"My private letters by the Fleur-de-Lis," remarked Beauharnais, "relate, among other Court gossip, that orders will be sent out to stop the defensive works at Quebec, and pull down what is built! They think the cost of walls round our city can be better bestowed on political favorites and certain high personages at Court." Beauharnais turned towards the Governor. "Has your Excellency heard aught of this?" asked he.

"Yes! It is true enough, Beauharnais! I also have received communications to that effect!" replied the Governor, with an effort at calmness which ill-concealed the shame and disgust that filled his soul.

There was an indignant stir among the officers, and many lips seemed trembling with speech. The impetuous Rigaud de Vaudreuil broke the fierce silence. He struck his fist heavily on the table.

"Ordered us to stop the building of the walls of Quebec, and to pull down what we have done by virtue of the King's corvee!--did I hear your Excellency right?" repeated he in a tone of utmost incredulity. "The King is surely mad to think of such a thing!"

"Yes, Rigaud! it is as I tell you; but we must respect the royal command, and treat His Majesty's name as becomes loyal servants."

"Ventre saint bleu!--heard ever Canadian or Frenchman such moonshine madness! I repeat it, your Excellency--dismantle Quebec? How in God's name are the King's dominions and the King's subjects to be defended?"

Rigaud got warmer. He was fearless, and would, as every one knew, have out his say had the King been present in person. "Be assured, your Excellency, it is not the King who orders that affront to his faithful colony; it is the King's ministers--the King's mistresses--the snuff-box-tapping courtiers at Versailles, who can spend the public money in more elegant ways than in raising up walls round our brave old city! Ancient honor and chivalry of France! what has become of you?"

Rigaud sat down angrily; the emotion he displayed was too much in accord with the feelings of the gallant officers present to excite other than marks of approbation, except among a few personal friends of the Intendant, who took their cue from the avowed wishes of the Court.

"What reason does His Majesty give," asked La Corne St. Luc, "for this singular communication?"

"The only reason given is found in the concluding paragraph of the despatch. I will allow the Secretary to read so much of it, and no more, before the Intendant arrives." The Governor looked up at the great clock in the hall with a grim glance of impatience, as if mentally calling down anything but a blessing upon the head of the loitering Intendant.

"The Count de le Galissoniere ought to know," said the despatch sneeringly, "that works like those of Quebec are not to be undertaken by the governors of colonies, except under express orders from the King; and therefore it is His Majesty's desire that upon the reception of this despatch your Excellency will discontinue the works that have been begun upon Quebec. Extensive fortifications require strong garrisons for their defence, and the King's treasury is already exhausted by the extraordinary expenses of the war in Europe. It cannot at the same time carry on the war in Europe and meet the heavy drafts made upon it from North America."

The Secretary folded the despatch, and sat down without altering a line of his impassive face. Not so the majority of the officers round the table: they were excited, and ready to spring up in their indignation.

The King's name restrained them all but Rigaud de Vaudreuil, who impetuously burst out with an oath, exclaiming,--"They may as well sell New France at once to the enemy, if we are not to defend Quebec! The treasury wants money for the war in Europe forsooth! No doubt it wants money for the war when so much is lavished upon the pimps, panders, and harlots of the Court!"

The Governor rose suddenly, striking the table with his scabbard to stop Rigaud in his rash and dangerous speech.

"Not a word more of comment, Chevalier Rigaud!" said he, with a sharp imperative tone that cut short debate; "not another word! His Majesty's name and those of his ministers must be spoken here respectfully, or not at all! Sit down, Chevalier de Vaudreuil; you are inconsiderate."

"I obey your Excellency--I am, I dare say, inconsiderate! but I am right!" Rigaud's passion was subsiding, but not spent. He obeyed the order, however. He had had his say, and flung himself heavily upon his chair.

"The King's despatch demands respectful and loyal consideration, remarked De Lery, a solid, grave officer of engineers, "and I doubt not that upon a proper remonstrance from this council His Majesty will graciously reconsider his order. The fall of Louisbourg is ominous of the fall of Quebec. It is imperative to fortify the city in time to meet the threatened invasion. The loss of Quebec would be the loss of the Colony; and the loss of the Colony, the disgrace of France and the ruin of our country."

"I cordially agree with the Chevalier de Lery," said La Corne St. Luc; "he has spoken more sense than would be found in a shipload of such despatches as that just read! Nay, your Excellency," continued the old officer, smiling, "I shall not affront my sovereign by believing that so ill-timed a missive came from him! Depend upon it, His Majesty has neither seen nor sanctioned it. It is the work of the minister and his mistresses, not the King's."

"La Corne! La Corne!" The Governor raised his finger with a warning look. "We will not discuss the point further until we are favored with the presence and opinion of the Intendant; he will surely be here shortly!" At this moment a distant noise of shouting was heard in some part of the city.

An officer of the day entered the hall in great haste, and whispered something in the Governor's ear.

"A riot in the streets!" exclaimed the Governor. "The mob attacking the Intendant! You do not say so! Captain Duval, turn out the whole guard at once, and let Colonel St. Remy take the command and clear the way for the Intendant, and also clear the streets of all disturbers."