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As the reader will remember, galley slave number 39 at this time made his escape.

Two weeks had elapsed since that dark and awful night, and a man was wandering along the wild and rocky coast. He was alone. The sky above, the forest at his back, and the sea before him. The scene was one of desolation. The wild waves beat in ceaseless fury against the unresisting rocks of the coast. The traveller sat down near the beach and, removing his three-cornered hat, gazed out to sea.

His

"Not a sail in sight," he murmured. clothes were faded and his features haggard. The pedestrian had for days fed on such berries and wild fruits as grew in the forest, or such animals and fowls as he was able to capture. His breakfast had been made from a nest of young birds. Occasionally he turned his eyes back toward the forest as if he feared he was being followed.

"Not a sail in sight."

He sighed as he repeated the sentence. The traveller did not know where he was. He gazed on the surrounding landscape, coast, sea and sky, without recognizing any familiar feature. There is no more desolate scene than an uninhabited rocky coast, with a sailless sea. The ceaseless and melancholy beating of waves against rocks and the

screams of the sea birds alone break the awful silence.

The traveller did not sit long on the stone, but rose and began a weary march to the north. The gulf was below, miles wide, so the idea of his crossing it was preposterous.

He travelled on and on for three hours over the rocky uneven coast and was still out of sight of the St. Lawrence River. Pausing, he turned about and gazed out to sea; but as far as his eyes could reach he saw only the waves. Soon he discovered, coming around some headlands, a sail, then another, another, and a dozen more were coming, and the solitary traveller in this wilderness asked himself:

"Are they English or French?”

The distance was too great for him to make out the colors; but they were drawing nearer, and he resolved to wait until he could see what flag they floated.

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They are going to enter the gulf, and, if English, are no doubt the armament expected to attack Quebec." He ran hurriedly back down the coast toward the approaching fleet.

"Those clouds of fog! It will be dangerous to attempt to enter the river now!" he cried.

He reached a point of land furthest out to sea, halting by the side of a stone in the shape of an

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"THEY ARE GOING TO BETRAY MY COUNTRY MEN! HOW CAN I PREVENT THEM?"

obelisk. While standing here, he was startled by hearing voices not far from him. The traveller evidently did not want to be seen, for he immediately got out of sight of the new-comers, who proved to be three French voyageurs.

As they came toward the beach, their voices fell on the ears of the man listening and waiting behind the stone.

"Zounds! it is the English fleet bearing down into the gulf," said one.

"There can be little doubt that their designs are against Quebec."

"By the mass! they will be formidable, too."

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They must never reach the town.'

"No; for then Canada will fall.”

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We have been sent to keep them away, and, if we but get aboard, we will pilot them so that they can never reach Quebec.

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The man behind the stone shaft kept himself well concealed; but all the while he watched the

three voyageurs.

"Where is our sloop?" one asked.

They looked far up the coast, and the traveller, following the direction of their eyes, saw a small sail-vessel coming down the coast, keeping close

in to shore.

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They are going to betray my countrymen," he thought. "How am I to prevent them?"

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