“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?