Corinne drew a long sigh.  She had seen much of death and disaster those last months of her young life.  It would indeed be too cruel if the hand of time held no healing balm in its clasp.

The next days were full of interest for Corinne.  Julian took her and Colin under his special protection and care.  Fritz was kept to the house and its vicinity by his lameness, which the march into the city had rather increased; and Humphrey was busy in a thousand ways.  But Julian, though he had sundry duties to perform, had plenty of leisure on his hands, too; and he gave up a great portion of this leisure to taking Corinne and her brother a regular tour of the various ships, and of the camps where the English had settled themselves whilst attacking Quebec—­showing them exactly how the Heights of Abraham had been scaled, how the plain had been reached and the battle set in array there; and the spot where Wolfe had fallen, and that where he had died.

The bright-faced girl, with her French name and English sympathies, was feted and welcomed everywhere.  Brigadier Townshend gave a dinner to some of the residents, and the Abbe and Madame Drucour, with their nephew and niece, were invited.  Corinne’s health was proposed and drunk amid acclamation, greatly to her own astonishment; and wherever she went she met with nothing but kindness and respect.

She was given a number of trophies of the recent war—­a small dagger that had belonged to Wolfe being the most prized of them all.  She daily visited the hospital with her aunt, and cheered by her bright presence both the English and French who lay there.

All was busy in and about the city.  The garrison was being shipped off to France, according to the terms of the capitulation; and a number of residents whose homes had been destroyed, and who had no mind to remain in the place now that the English were the masters, were eager likewise to be gone.  The French ships in the upper reaches of the river were permitted to come down, take up their crews again, and transport the fugitives to France.

But the Abbe and his sister remained on, uncertain of their future, Madame Drucour waited for news of her husband, and the Abbe lingered to know if he could serve his countrymen any longer.  They had friends in France, but were not much disposed to return to that land.  Colin and Corinne were burning with desire to see England at least, even if they did not remain there; and Madame Drucour was disposed to wish the same thing for herself.

One day Humphrey brought them news.  He had had news of the ex-governor of Louisbourg.  He had fallen into the hands of the Indians, but had been rescued by the English, and had been sent, with a number of other prisoners, to England in one of their returning ships.  The news had been brought by a sloop from New York.

Vessels were beginning to arrive in the harbour now from the enthusiastic English provinces.  Those in Quebec heard how joy bells were ringing and bonfires blazing throughout New England and the provinces.  Far-seeing men saw in the fall of Quebec an augury of a new and splendid empire in the west, over which England should rule.  So far, at least, there was no thought of anything else, although the spirit of independence had taken deep root which another day would bring forth a different sort of fruit.