Twice before had British soldiers marched into the town, the last time but a few years agone, when blood had been shed on the stones in front of the parish church.

But here were large numbers of well-armed men from the Eastern parishes, English and French, with four hundred regulars to leaven the mass.

Lajeunesse knew only too well what this demonstration meant.
Before the last soldier had passed through the street, he was on his way to the Seigneury.
He found Madelinette alone in the great dining-room, mending a rent in the British flag, which she was preparing for a flag-staff.

When she saw him, she dropped the flag, as if startled, came quickly to him, took both his hands in hers, and kissed his cheek.
"Wonder of wonders!" she said.
"It's these soldiers," he replied shortly.

"What of them ?" she asked brightly.
"Do you mean to say you don't know what their coming here means ?" he asked.
"They must drill somewhere, and they are honouring Pontiac," she replied gaily, but her face flushed as she bent over the flag again.
He came and stood in front of her.