the French governor in urging him to take some immediate measures to drive the English from Port Royal, that he never learned of the escape of galley slave No. 39, or, if he did, it was but a passing thought and gone in a moment.

Scarcely was the Monsieur returned to his beautiful home at Grand Pre, when he heard of the preparations of the English to assault Quebec. He waited in breathless suspense as it were, until he learned of the disaster to Walker's fleet and the return of Nicholson.

Crossing himself, the good Catholic exclaimed: "May the saints be praised! The cross triumphs over the infidel, and the true church will be established in the New World despite the enemies of God.".

One day, he chanced, by the merest accident, to recall to mind his daughter's strange but persistent request to see galley slave No. 39, and wondered what had been the result of the interview. He did not remember that his daughter had ever mentioned the result to him.

"I will ask her," he thought. Consequently he summoned his daughter. Adele came, and when her father asked about her interview with the galley slave, a faint flush suffused her cheek, and her great, dark eyes dropped to the floor.

"Why did you wish to see him, Adele?"

"He was so young, father, and looked so innocent, I wanted to know his story.'

"And did you learn it?"

"I did."

"He was a vagabond, I trow." "No, father."

แ A common thief?"

66 No."

"You deny it, Adele. Pray, how do you know? Why do you speak with such great assurance?"

66

He told me."

By the mass! do you think his word worth considering?"

"My daughter, you are young and too apt to be moved by sentiment."

"Not in this instance, father."

"Is he a Frenchman?"

66 No."

"What! an Englishman?"

"An American, born in Virginia."

"It is all the same.

"He has powerful relatives who would ransom

him, had they known he was in prison.

"Is he not in prison yet?"

"No. 39 escaped before we left Quebec."

The father fixed his eyes on his daughter, as if he would read her thoughts. She avoided his earnest gaze, and there came to him a faint suspicion that his daughter might have had considerable to do with the escape of No. 39; but Monsieur De Vere loved his child to a weakness. Had she been other than a girl of excellent common sense, she would certainly have been spoiled, for her father was foolishly indulgent.

If his daughter-his only child had a whim to set at liberty a prisoner, he would not condemn her for it. It was her kindness of heart which prompted her to do the deed.

After a long silence, he asked:

My child, was he not a thief?" "No."

And Adele answered the question with as much indignation as she could assume with her dear father.

66

"How do you know?"

"He was a prisoner of war,' prisoner of war," she answered,

captured by the combined forces of Indians and French, from some New England frontier town and brought to Canada, and then, because he and some others took a boat and tried to effect their escape, they were sent to the galleys."

Was it not stealing?" asked the father.

For a moment the pretty girl was silent, and then she asked:

"Father, if you were an English prisoner, would you not escape if you could?"

After a few moments' silence, the father admitted:

"I would.

I deem it the proper thing for every Frenchman to escape our common enemy, the English, and render what service he can to his country."

"Will you not give equal privilege to the English?"

"But they have departed from the true faith."

They think they are right and you wrong. Give to them the same freedom of thought you would ask for yourself."

"By the mass! Adele, you plead their cause well."

I am

"No, father; I plead the cause of both. a Catholic; but I do believe it is more a matter of contention for lands and supremacy in the New World than religion which brought about this

The father found himself unable to cope with his daughter and consequently changed the subject.

Days wore on;

heard of No. 39.

weeks passed, and nothing was Perhaps, after all, he had only

escaped prison to meet with death in some terrible form, she thought. Then she shuddered as she recalled the many dangers he would have to undergo in the wilderness to escape from Canada. Often, as she stood by the gate in front of her father's house, her young mind dwelt on the stranger, and at such times she found herself humming the song of the voyageur:

"L'amour me réveille.”

The weeks and months wore on into years, and peace had been declared. It was a happy restoration and the French in Acadia, though still under the English yoke, found it mild. Their religion was tolerated, and sometimes even patriotic French songs were sung.

One fine summer day, Adele astonished her father by the assertion that she was going to visit Port Royal. What had put that strange whim into her head?

The father tried to dissuade her; but Adele was resolved. She went by land through a wilderness, attended only by some faithful servants and a half-blood guide. Adele hoped to gain some information of the man whose freedom she had · procured.

“He is an Englishman, and he will go to an English settlement," she thought.

To a person who has witnessed all the changes