to take up the troops mustered in New England for the reduction of
Quebec. Oh, it will be a grand sight, a grand sight, when it comes
sailing up the waters of the St. Lawrence! Quebec, I dare wager,
has never seen such a sight before!"

The faces of all the lads were full of animation and pride. They
appeared to have no fears for their personal safety. They were
enthusiastic in their descriptions of the wonderful feats which the
world would soon see, and when once started on the subject were
ready to talk on and on.

"They have fifteen or sixteen thousand men--picked troops--with the
gallant Wolfe in command," cried another. "You have seen something
already of what Wolfe can do when he is set upon a task!"

Madame Drucour made a little sign of assent; she had learned that
lesson herself very fully. The lad made her a courtly bow, for he
knew her well, having been at the siege of Louisbourg, and having
seen her when he had entered the fortress to view it after the
surrender.

"Madame Drucour is herself a soldier; she can appreciate the
talents of the soldiers," he said. "Well, we have Wolfe coming, and
with him three gallant Brigadiers--Moncton and Townshend and
Murray. They all say that each one of these is as valiant as the
great Wolfe himself, and as full of ardour."

"And then our guns!" chimed in the third. "Why, we have guns enough
to batter down these old walls as children batter down their card
houses! You know what English guns did at Louisbourg, Madame! Well,
we have bigger and heavier ones coming from England--such guns as
have never been seen in this country before; and such shells--why,
you can hear the scream of them for miles. You will hear them soon
singing and screaming over Quebec if you try to hold it against
Wolfe!"

Corinne and Colin exchanged glances. It seemed indeed to bring the
thought of war very near when this sort of talk went on. The Abbe
was thoughtfully stroking his chin, debating within himself whether
all this was a bit of gasconade on the part of these middies, or
whether it represented the actual facts of the case. Madame Drucour
made quiet answer, saying:

"But Quebec has also its guns, my young friends; Quebec can make
fitting reply to English guns. And ships are more vulnerable than
our thick walls. The game of war is one that both nations can play
with skill and success. If you have a Wolfe on your side, we have a
Montcalm on ours!"

"Oh yes; we have heard of the Marquis of Montcalm. He is a fine old
fellow; I wish we could see him."

"You have your wish, gentlemen!" spoke a new voice from the shadowy
corner by the door, where the twilight was gathering.

The company started to their feet and saluted the great man, who
advanced smiling, motioning them to be seated. Corinne kindled the
lamp, and the General looked about him and sat down at the table
opposite to the three youths.

"I hear you are from the English squadron," he said; "I have come
to ask you as to its strength. Tell me frankly and candidly what
you know, and I will undertake that your captivity shall not be a
rigorous one."

He spoke in French, and the Abbe interpreted, although he suspected
that the lads understood a good deal more of that language than
they professed to do. They were willing enough to repeat what they
had said before as to the overwhelming size and equipment of the
fleet on its way from England--of the valour of men and officers,
of Wolfe's known intrepidity and military genius, and of the
excellent, far-carrying guns and their equally excellent gunners.

Montcalm listened with bent brow and thoughtful mien. The lads
appeared to speak with confidence and sincerity. They evidently
believed that the fall of Quebec was foreordained of Heaven; but it
was possible they might be misinformed as to the true strength of
the fleet, and had perhaps, consciously or unconsciously,
exaggerated that.

At any rate they were not reticent: they told everything they knew
and perhaps more. They gloried in the thought of the fighting to
come, and seemed to take their own captivity very lightly,
evidently thinking it only a matter of a few weeks before they
could be exchanged or released--before their countrymen would be
marching into Quebec.

"And as soon as General Amherst has got Ticonderoga, he will march
here to help us, if we are not masters here first!" was the final
shot of the senior midshipman. "Not that Wolfe will need his help
in the taking of Quebec, but he will want a share in the glory of
it. And all New England, and all those provinces which have been
asleep so long, are waking up, eager to take their share now that
the moment of final triumph is near. There are so many fine troops
waiting to embark that Admiral Holmes will probably have to leave
the half behind. But they will follow somehow, you will see. They
are thirsting to avenge themselves upon the Indians, and upon those
who set the Indians on to harry and destroy their brothers along
the borders!"

The Abbe translated this also into French, making a little gesture
with his hand the while.

"I knew that retribution must sooner or later follow upon that
great sin," he said. "Were it not for my feeling on that score, I
should have firmer hopes for Quebec. But God will not suffer
iniquity to go long unpunished. We have drawn down retribution upon
our own heads!"

Montcalm made a gesture similar to that of the Abbe.

"I have said so myself many a time," he replied. "I hated and
abhorred the means we have too often used. It may be that what you
say is right and just. And yet I know that I shall not live to see
Quebec in the hands of the English. I can die for my country, and I
am willing to do so; but I cannot and I will not surrender!"

"So they said at Louisbourg," muttered one of the midshipmen to
Colin, showing how easily he understood what was passing; "but they
sang to a different tune when they had heard the music of our guns
long enough!"

The Marquis was talking aside with the Abbe and Madame Drucour.
When the colloquy was over, the Abbe addressed the midshipmen.

"Monsieur de Montcalm is willing to release you on parole, and my
sister, Madame Drucour, will permit you to remain in this house
during your stay in the city. You must give up your dirks, and pass
your word not to try to escape; but after having done this, you
will be free to come and go as you will. And if the English should
take prisoners of our French subjects, you shall be exchanged upon
the first opportunity. These are the terms offered you by Monsieur
de Montcalm as the alternative to an imprisonment which would be
sorely irksome to youths such as you."

The lads looked at one another. It was a promise rather hard to
give, since there would be so many excellent opportunities for
escape; but the thought of imprisonment in some gloomy subterranean
portion of the fortress, even with the faint chance of effecting an
escape from thence, was too sombre and repelling. They accepted the
lenient terms offered, passed their word with frank sincerity, and
handed over their weapons with a stifled sigh.

"We will show you the city tomorrow," said Colin, when he took
their guests up to the lofty  where they were to sleep in company.
"My sister and I are half English ourselves. I sometimes think that
in her heart of hearts Corinne would like to see the English flag
floating over the towers of Quebec."

"Hurrah for Mademoiselle Corinne!" cried the lad Peter, throwing
his cap into the air. "I thought you two looked little like the
dark-skinned Frenchies! We shall be friends then, and when the town
falls we will take care that no harm comes to you. But we mean to
have Quebec; so you may make up your mind to that!"



Chapter 3: Mariners Of The Deep.


"I must go! I must go!" shouted Colin, bursting into the house, mad
with excitement and impetuosity.

"My uncle, you will let me go! I must see this great and mighty
fleet for myself. They say it is coming up the mighty river's
mouth. Some say it will be wrecked ere it reach the Isle of
Orleans! Let me go and see it, I pray, and I will return and tell
you all."

The whole city was in a ferment. For long weeks had the English
fleet been watched and waited for--for so long, indeed, that
provisions were already becoming a little scarce within the town,
in spite of the convoy which had arrived earlier in the year. So
many mouths were there to feed that the question of supply was
causing anxiety already. Still with care there was enough to last
for a considerable time. Only the delay of the English vessels had
upset the calculations of the men in charge of the commissariat
department, and the people had to be put upon rations, lest there
should be a too quick consumption of the stores.

This had caused a little murmuring and discontent, and the long
waiting had tried the citizens more than active work would have
done. It had given Montcalm time to fortify his camp very strongly,
and make his position all that he desired; but it had been a
wearisome time to many, and the Canadian troops were already
discontented, and wearying to get away from the life of the camp,
back to their own homes and fields and farms.

But now hot midsummer had come, and with it the. English foe. A
fast-sailing sloop had brought word that the junction of the
squadrons was taking place just off Cape Tourmente, and Colin was
wild to take boat and go to see the great ships.

"They are saying that they must all be wrecked in trying to
navigate the Traverse," cried the boy; "but Peter and Paul and
Arthur laugh to scorn the notion, and say that we do not know what
sort of men the English mariners are. Some say that Admiral Durell
has already captured the pilots who live there, ready to take the
French ships up and down. Let me go and learn what is happening.
Let me take a boat, and take Peter and Paul and Arthur with me.
They know how to manage one as well as any sailor in the town. Let
us go, my uncle, and bring you word again."

The boy was set on it; he could not be withheld. Moreover, the Abbe
and Madame Drucour were keenly anxious for news.

"Be careful, my boy, be cautious," he said; "run not into danger.
But I think thou art safe upon the river with those lads. You will
take care of one another, and bring us word again what is
happening."

"Oh, I will come back safe and sound, never fear for me!" answered
the boy, in great delight. "We will bring you news, never fear! We
will see all that is to be seen. Oh, I am glad the day of waiting
is over, and that the day for fighting has come!"

"Would that I were a boy like you, Colin!" cried Corinne, with
sparkling eyes. "It is hard to be cooped up in the city when there
are such stirring things going on outside. But I will up to the
heights and watch for the sight of sails; and you will come back
soon, Colin, and tell us all the news."

Nevertheless it was a hard task for the eager girl to remain behind
when her brother and their three merry friends went forth in search
of news.

By this time the English midshipmen were quite at home in their new
home, and the blithest of companions for the brother and sister
there. They did much to foster the sympathies of Colin and Corinne
for the English cause. The boys told of England and the life there,
and were so full of enthusiasm for their country that it was almost
impossible not to catch something of the contagion of their mood.
Both Colin and his sister had seen much to disgust and displease
them amongst the French; whilst round their foes there seemed to be
a sort of halo of romance and chivalry which appealed to the
imaginative strain in both brother and sister.

Their British blood could not fail to be stirred within them. They
saw and heard of corruption, chicanery, and petty jealousy all
round them here. It was hardly to be wondered at that they inclined
to the other side. England and Scotland were uniting together for
the conquest of this Western world. Their mother's countrymen were
fighting the battle. They had the right to wish them success.

Corinne rehearsed all this to herself as she stood upon the lofty
heights behind the town that afternoon with her uncle and aunt.
They were looking with anxiety and grave misgivings at the
clustering sails dimly seen in the distance upon the shining water
of that vast estuary. Montcalm himself had come up to see, and
stood with his telescope at his eye, watchful and grave.

"We have made a mistake," he said to the Abbe in a low voice. "I
did speak to the Governor once; but he was against the measure, and
we permitted it to drop. But I can see now it was a mistake. We
should have planted a battery--a strong one--upon Cape Tourmente,
and bombarded the ships as they passed by. We trusted to the
dangerous navigation of the Traverse, but we made a mistake:
English sailors can go anywhere!"

The Abbe made a sign of assent. He remembered now how the General
had made this suggestion to the Governor, and pressed it with some
ardour, but had been met with opposition at every point. Vaudreuil
had declared that it would weaken the town to bring out such a
force to a distant point; that they must concentrate all their
strength around the city; that they would give the enemy the chance
of cutting their army in two. Montcalm had yielded the point. There
was so much friction between him and the Governor that he had to
give way where he could. Vaudreuil was always full of grand,
swelling words, and boasts of his great deeds and devotion; but men
were beginning to note that when face to face with real peril he
lost his nerve and self confidence, and had to depend upon others.
It was thus that he opposed Montcalm (of whose superior genius and
popularity he was bitterly jealous) at every turn when danger was
still distant, but turned to him in a fluster of dismay when the
hour of immediate peril had come, and had been made more perilous
by his own lack of perception and forethought whilst things were
less imminent.

"Yet look at our lines of defence!" he exclaimed, after he had
finished all the survey he could make of the distant sails crowded
about the Isle of Orleans. "Where could any army hope to land along
this northern shore? Let them fire as they like from their ships;
that will not hurt us. And we can answer back in a fashion that
must soon silence them. The heights are ours; the town is safely
guarded. The summer is half spent already. Let us but keep them at
bay for two months, and the storms of the equinox will do the rest.
When September comes, then come the gales--and indeed they may help
us at any time in these treacherous waters. You mariners of
England, you are full of confidence and skill--I am the last to
deny it--but the elements have proved stronger than you before
this, and may do so again."

Corinne listened to all this with a beating heart, and asked of her
aunt:

"What think you that they will first do--the English, I mean?"

"Probably land and make a camp upon the Isle of Orleans, which has
been evacuated. A camp of some sort they must have, and can make it
there without damage to us. It will make a sort of basis of
operations for them; but I think they will be sorely puzzled what
to do next. They cannot get near the city without exposing
themselves to a deadly fire which they cannot return--for guns
fired low from ships will not even touch our walls or ramparts--and
any attempt along the shore by Beauport will be repulsed with heavy
loss."

"Yet they will do something, I am sure," spoke the girl, beneath
her breath; and she was more sure still of this when upon the
morrow Colin returned, all aglow with excitement and admiration,
whilst the three midshipmen had much ado to restrain their whoops
of joy and triumph.

"I never saw such a thing!" cried Colin, his face full of delight
and enthusiasm, as he and the midshipmen got Corinne to themselves,
and could talk unrestrainedly together; "I feel as though I could
never take sides against the English again! If they are all such
men as that old sailing master Killick, methinks the French have
little chance against them."

"Hurrah for old Killick! hurrah for England's sailors!" cried the
midshipmen, as wildly excited as Colin himself; and Corinne pressed
her hands together, and looked from one to the other, crying:

"Oh tell me! what did he do?"

"I'll tell you!" cried Colin. "You have heard them speak of the
Traverse, and what a difficult place it is to navigate?"

"Yes: Monsieur de Montcalm was saying that no vessel ever ventured
up or down without a pilot; but he said that a rumour had reached
him that some pilots had been taken prisoners, and that the English
ships would get up with their help."

"With or without!" cried Peter, tossing his cap into the air. "As
though English sailors could not move without Frenchmen to help
them!"

"Some of them took pilots aboard; indeed they were sent to them,
and had no choice. But I must not get confused, and confuse you,
Corinne. I'll just tell you what we did ourselves.

"We heard a great talk going on on board one of the transport boats
called the Goodwill, which was almost in the van of the fleet, I
suppose because the old sailing master, Killick, was so good a
seaman; and so they had sent a pilot out to her, and he was
jabbering away at a great rate--"

"Just like all the Frenchies!" cut in Paul; "calling out that he
would never have acted pilot to an English ship except under
compulsion, and declaring that it was a dismal tale the survivors
would take to their own country--that Canada should be the grave of
the whole army, and the St. Lawrence should bury beneath its waves
nine-tenths of the British ships, and that the walls of Quebec
should be lined with English scalps!"

"The wretch!" cried Corinne. "I wonder the sailors did not throw
him overboard to find his own grave!"

"I verily believe they would have done so, had it not been for
strict orders from the Admiral that the pilots were to be well
treated," answered Arthur. "Our English Admirals and officers are
all like that: they will never have any advantage taken of helpless
prisoners."

"I know, I know!" answered Corinne quickly; "that is where they
teach the French such a lesson. But go on--tell me more. What about
old Killick? and where were you all the while?"

"Holding on to the side of the transport, where we could see and
hear everything, and telling the sailors who were near about Quebec
and what was going on there. But soon we were too much interested
in what was going on aboard to think of anything else.

"Old Killick roared out after a bit, 'Has that confounded French
pilot done bragging yet?' And when somebody said he was ready to
show them the passage of the Traverse, he bawled out:

"'What! d'ye think I'm going to take orders from a dog of a
Frenchman, and aboard my own vessel, too? Get you to the helm, Jim,
and mind you take no orders from anybody but me. If that Frenchman
tries to speak, just rap him on the head with a rope's end to keep
him quiet!'

"And with that he rolled to the forecastle with his trumpet in his
hand, and got the ship under way, bawling out his instructions to
his mate at the wheel, just as though he had been through the place
all his life!"

"Had he ever been there before?" asked Corinne breathlessly.

"No, never. I heard the commanding officer and some of the
gentlemen on board asking him, and remonstrating; but it was no
use.

"'Been through before! no, never,' he cried; 'but I'm going through
now.'

"Then they told him that not even a French vessel with an
experienced sailing master ever dared take the passage without a
pilot, even though he might know it well. Whereupon old Killick
patted the officer upon the back, and said, 'Ay, ay, my dear,
that's right enough for them; but hang me if I don't show you all
that an Englishman shall go at ease where a Frenchman daren't show
his nose! Come along with me, my dear, and I'll show you this
dangerous passage.'

"And he led him forward to the best place, giving his orders as
cool and unconcerned as though he had been in the Thames itself.
The vessel that followed, hearing what was going on, and being
afraid of falling into some peril herself, called out to know who
the rash sailing master was. 'I am old Killick!" roared back the
bold old fellow himself, hearing the question, 'and that should be
enough for you!'

"And he turned his back, and went on laughing and joking with the
officer, and bawling out his orders with all the confidence of an
experienced pilot."

"O Colin! And did he make no mistake? And what did the pilot say?"

"Oh, he rolled up his eyes, and kept asking if they were sure the
old fellow had never been there before; and when we had got through
the great zigzag with never so much as the ghost of a misadventure,
and the signalling boats pointed to the deeper water beyond, the
old fellow only laughed, and said, 'Ay, ay, my dear, a terrible
dangerous navigation! Chalk it down, a terrible dangerous
navigation! If you don't make a sputter about it, you'll get no
credit in England!'

"Then lounging away to his mate at the helm, he bid him give it to
somebody else; and walking off with him, he said, 'Hang me if there
are not a thousand places in the Thames fifty times worse than
that. I'm ashamed that Englishmen should make such a rout about
it!' And when his words were translated to the pilot, he raised his
hands to heaven in mute protest, and evidently regarded old Killick
as something not quite human."

"Hurrah for the old sea dog! That's the kind of mariner we have,
Mademoiselle Corinne; that's the way we rule the waves! Hurrah for
brave old Killick! We'll make as little of getting into Quebec as
he did of navigating the Traverse!"

The story of the old captain's prowess ran through Quebec like
lightning, and produced there a sensation of wonder not unmixed
with awe. If this was the spirit which animated the English fleet,
what might not be the next move?

It was quickly known that the redoubtable Wolfe had landed upon the
Isle of Orleans, and was marching in a westerly direction towards
the point three or four miles distant from the city where he would
be able to obtain a better view than heretofore of the nature of
the task to which he was pledged.

"Let him come," said the Marquis of Montcalm grimly; "let him have
from thence a good view of our brave town and its defences!
Perchance it will be a lesson to him, in his youthful pride. He
thinks he is a second Hannibal. It will cool his hot blood,
perchance, to see the welcome we are prepared to accord to the
invaders of our soil."

In effect there was another sort of welcome awaiting the English
fleet; for upon the next day one of those violent squalls for which
these northern waters are famous swept over the great river St.
Lawrence, and in the town of Quebec there were rejoicing and
triumph.

"Now let the British mariners look to themselves!" cried the
people, shaking fists in the direction of the invisible fleet,
which they knew was anchored off the south shore of the great
island. "We shall soon see what they can do against one of our
Canadian tempests! Pray Heaven and all the saints that it may sink
every one of them to the bottom, or grind them to pieces upon the
rocks!"

"Pooh! not a bit of it," cried the midshipmen in contempt, though they
watched the storm with secret anxiety. "As though English-built vessels
could not ride out a capful of wind like this! See, it is clearing off
already! in an hour's time it will have subsided. As though our anchors
would not hold and our sailors keep their heads in such a little mock
tempest as this!"

Luckily for the English fleet, the squall was as brief as it was
violent; nevertheless it did do considerable damage to the ships at
their anchorage, and flying rumours were brought in as to the
amount of harm inflicted. Certainly some considerable damage had
been done, but nothing beyond repair. It had not daunted one whit
the hearts of the invading foe.

Montcalm came into the city that evening, and supped with the Abbe
and Madame Drucour. He was not without anxiety, and yet was calm
and hopeful.

"The tempest did not last long enough to serve our turn as we
hoped. The Governor trusted it would have destroyed the whole
fleet; but from what I can learn, nothing was really lost except a
few of the flat-bottomed landing boats used in the disembarkation
of the troops. The English are certainly notable sailors; but it is
with her soldiers that we shall have more directly to deal. Still,
I wish we could have sunk her ships; it would have placed her on
the horns of a dilemma."

"I have heard," said the Abbe, "that the Governor talks of
destroying the fleet by fire. He has made considerable preparation
for such an attempt."

Montcalm smiled slightly.

"True; he has been busy with his fire ships for some while. For my
own part, I have but limited faith in them. They have cost us a
million, and I doubt whether they will prove of any service; yet
Vaudreuil is very confident."

"The Governor is wont to be confident--till the moment of actual
peril arrives," said the Abbe thoughtfully. "Well, we shall see--we
shall see. When are these notable fire ships to be sent forth?"

"I think tomorrow night," answered Montcalm, "but that is a matter
which rests with the Governor. I have no concern in it; and when
such is the case, I offer no advice and take no part in the
arrangements. Doubtless I shall see what is going on from some
vantage point; but Monsieur de Vaudreuil will not take counsel with
me in the matter."

"Fire ships!" cried the midshipmen, when Colin told them what he
had heard; "do they think to frighten English mariners with
fireworks and bonfires? Good! let them try and see. And O Colin,
good Colin, if they are going to send down fire ships upon the
fleet, let us be there to see!"

Colin desired nothing better himself. He was all agog to see the
thing through. And why should they not? It was not difficult to
obtain a boat, and in the darkness and confusion the four lads
would easily be able to follow the fire ships and see the whole
thing through. The midshipmen could navigate a boat with anyone,
and Colin had learned much of their skill. All day they were often
to be seen skimming about the basin of the St. Lawrence,
prospecting about for news, and watching the movements of the
English soldiers on shore, or of the fleet anchored a few miles
farther off. They had only to steal away unnoticed, and take to
their boat before the excitement began, and they could follow the
phantom ships upon their mysterious way, and watch the whole
attempt against the English fleet.

"Ah, but take me," cried Corinne, when she heard the
discussion--"do take me! It is so hard to be a girl, and see
nothing! I will not be in your way. I will not scream and cry, or
do anything like that. I only want to watch and see. I shall not be
afraid. And I want so much to see something! I know I could slip
away without anyone's knowing or missing me. Only say you will take
me!"

"Of course we will take you, Mademoiselle Corinne," cried Paul,
with boyish gallantry; "why should you not see as well as we? I
have a sister Margery at home who would be as wild to go as you can
be. She is as good as a boy any day. Wrap yourself well up in a
great cloak, so that you may keep warm, and so that nobody can
guess we have a lady on board, and we will take care of you, never
fear!"

Corinne clapped her hands gaily; although growing to maidenhood,
she had the heart of a child, and was full of delight at the
thought of anything that promised adventure and excitement.

"How good you are! And pray call me not 'Mademoiselle' any more;
call me Corinne--all of you. Let me be an English girl, and your
sister; for, in sooth, I feel more and more English every day of my
life. Sometimes I fear that I shall be hanged for a traitor to the
cause; for I find myself on the side of our English rivals more and
more every day!"

The compact thus sealed was easily carried out. The Abbe and his
sister, Madame Drucour, were keenly interested in the attempt of
the fire ships against the English fleet, and were to watch
proceedings from the steeple of the Recollet Friars. The daylight
lasted long now, and supper was over before the shadows began to
fall; and the excited lads were able to wait till the seniors had
started forth before they made their own escape down to the
harbour.

Corinne wrapped herself in a long black cloak, drawing the hood
over her head, and thus disguising herself and her sex completely
from any prying eyes; but indeed they scarcely met anyone as they
hurried along through the narrow streets to the unfrequented wharf,
where the boys had brought up the boat earlier in the day. Quickly
they were all aboard, and were gliding through the darkening water,
whilst the crowd gathered at quite a different part of the harbour
showed where the launch of the fire ships was going on.

Colin described them as well as he could.

"There are three or four big ones, and Monsieur Delouche is in
command; and then there is a great fire raft, as they call it--a
lot of schooners, shallops, and such like, all chained together--a
formidable-looking thing, for I got one of the sailors to show it
me. I suppose they are all pretty much alike, crammed with
explosives and combustibles; old swivels and guns loaded up to the
muzzle, grenades, and all sorts of things like that, some of them
invented for the occasion. We must give these fellows a wide berth
when once they are set alight; for they will burn mightily, and
shower lead and fire upon everything within reach. I only trust
they may not do fearful damage to the English ships!"

"Not they!" cried Peter, with a fine contempt in his voice. "The
Frenchies are safe to make a muddle of it somewhere; and our bold
jack tars won't be scared by noise and flame. You'll soon see the
sort of welcome they will give these fiery messengers."

The night darkened. There was no moon, and the faint wreaths of
vapour lay lightly upon the wide waste of waters. Corinne gazed
about her with a sense of fascination. She had never before been so
far out upon the river; and how strange and ghostlike it appeared
in the silence of the night!

Ten o'clock struck from the clocks in the town behind them, and
Colin turned back to look towards the harbour.

"They were to start at ten," he remarked. "Let us lie to now and
watch for them. We must give them a wide berth, but not be too far
distant to see what they do."

Corinne gazed, breathless with excitement, along the darkening
water. The silence and increasing darkness seemed to weigh upon
them like a tangible oppression. They could hear their own excited
breathing; and all started violently when Arthur's voice suddenly
broke the silence by exclaiming:

"I see them! I see them--over yonder!"

The boat in which the eager lads and equally eager girl were afloat
was drifting about not very far distant from the Point of Orleans,
where were an English outpost and some English shipping, although
the main part of the fleet was some distance further on. The
watchers expected that the ghostly ships, gliding upon their silent
way, would pass this first shipping in silence and under cover of
the darkness, and only begin to glow and fire when close to the
larger part of the hostile fleet. Yet as they watched the oncoming
vessels through the murk of the night, they saw small tongues of
flame beginning to flicker through the gloom, and run up the masts
and sails like live things; and all in a moment came a smothered
roar and a bright flashing flame which, for the few seconds it
lasted, showed the whole fire fleet stealing onwards, and the boats
by which the crews of them were making good their escape.

"They have fired them too soon!" cried Colin, in great excitement.
"I know they were not to have done it till they had passed the
Point and got well into the south channel, where all the shipping
lies."

"Hurrah!" cried Peter, waving his cap; "did we not say that the
Frenchies would make a mess of it? They may be good for something
on land; but at sea--"

There was no hearing the end of the sentence; for with a roar like
that of a volcano in eruption one of the ships burst into a mass of
flames, whilst the rest became lighted up by the glare, and were
soon adding to the conflagration--the fire racing up their masts
and rigging, and showing them against the black waters like vessels
of lambent flame.

"How beautiful, yet how terrible!" cried Corinne, as she gazed with
fascinated eyes. "But look--look--look--look how the water is torn
up with the shower of lead that falls from them! Are they not like
fiery dragons spouting out sheets of fire? Oh, and listen how they
hiss and roar! Are they not like live things? Oh, it is the most
terrible thing I have ever seen. How glad I am that they are not
running amongst the English ships! They are beautiful, terrible
creatures; but I think they are doing no hurt to anything."

"And look yonder!" cried Peter, pointing landwards in great
excitement; "see those long red lines drawn up on shore! Those are
our English soldiers, all ready to receive the foe should they seek
to land under cover of this noise and smoke and confusion. As
though our British grenadiers would be scared by false fire like
yon fireworks!"

"And see, see again!" yelled Paul, still more excited--"see our
sailors getting to their boats! They are going to row out and
grapple those flaming monsters. See if it be not so. They are
drifting down a little too near our few ships. You will see now for
yourself, Corinne, the stuff of which our mariners are made!"

"Oh surely, surely they will not go near those terrible vessels!"
cried Corinne.

"Yes, but they will," cried Arthur, watching their movements