The Commandant steps forward. "What news, my children?" he asks. His voice is studiously cheerful.
Dominique shakes his head.
"There is no relief, Monseigneur."
"You have met none, you mean?"
"None is coming, Monseigneur. We have heard it in Montreal."
CHAPTER XXII.
DOMINIQUE.
"Montreal?"
While they stood wondering, a dull wave of sound broke on their ears from the westward, and another, and yet another—the booming of cannon far up the river.