But now, Pierre, tell me all, while I lay out what the pantry holds." The gay look came back into Iberville's face.

"Ahem," he said--which is the way to begin a wonderful story: "Once upon a time 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 Casson looked at him keenly and a singular light came into his eyes)--"was wheedled away upon the king's ships to France, and so 'Left the song of the spinning-wheel, The hawk and the lady fair, And sailed away--'" "But the song is old and so is the story, abbe; so here's the brief note of it.

After years of play and work,--play in France and stout work in the Spaniards' country,--he was shipped away to 'Those battle heights, Quebec heights, our own heights, The citadel our golden lily bears, And Frontenac--' "But I babble again.

And at Quebec he finds the old song changed.
The heights and the lilies are there, but Frontenac, the great, brave Frontenac, is gone: confusion lives where only conquest and honest quarrelling were--" "Frontenac will return--there is no other way!" interposed De Casson.
"Perhaps.

And the young man looked round and lo! old faces and places had changed.