The widow feigned to give a reluctant consent, and accordingly they arranged to meet on Place d’Armes at two o’clock, and to drive to the base of the mountain together. At that time the beautiful mountain from which Montreal derives its name, and most of its beauty, had not been acquired by the city. It was private property, and there were no elegant roads by which to drive to its summit; indeed, it was only by the courtesy of the proprietors that persons were allowed to ascend the famous hill, and enjoy the beautiful scenery and bracing air: even then the task of ascending was no easy one, and ladies were generally glad of the company of one or more of the hardier sex, if only to assist them in clambering up the steep ascent.
Mr. Clarkson went to lunch, and then to the Corn Exchange to transact some business, arriving in Place d’Armes precisely at two o’clock. Shortly afterward she saw the ladies emerge from the French Church of Notre Dame, and cross the square to meet him. Miss Cuthbert was delighted with the church. Although a Protestant, she admired it as an architectural art-work, the elaborate adornment, too, of the interior pleased her, and accorded with her womanly tastes. Mrs. Clarkson had seen both inside and outside so often that neither had now any more effect on her; indeed, not only was her heart steeled to the refining influences of the building, but also to the doctrines inculcated within it; she had started on the downward path, and never once dared to look up again, even for a moment.
“Well, you are sharp on time,” said Miss Cuthbert, addressing Mr. Clarkson.
“Yes, indeed, I have been walking the streets for nearly an hour, wondering if the hands on the Seminary clock would ever indicate the hour of two. I had almost persuaded myself that the public clocks had all stopped, but my watch, which was ticking, told me that they were going on with methodical regularity.” He addressed himself to Miss Cuthbert, but his eyes were turned slightly towards Mrs. Clarkson, who, blushing slightly (she could blush at pleasure), turned away her head, and appeared to be quite confused.
William hailed a cab, and they drove up University street, as far as the carriage road permitted them. Dismissing the “carter,” they entered the adjacent field, and ascended by a winding path which at that time ran through the property of Mr. (now Sir Hugh) Allan. Miss Cuthbert, although she lived faraway from all mountains or hills of any kind, was remarkably active, and bounded up the steep ascent like a deer. Mrs. Clarkson was a dear of another kind, and she was obliged to cling to her brother-in-law for support, which latter he was by no means adverse to giving, after about twenty minutes climbing they arrived at the “view point” immediately over Sir Hugh Allan’s residence, when everything was immediately forgotten in the inspeakable emotion excited by the magnificent panorama before them. At their feet lay the beautiful city, the rows of shade trees, clothed with verdure, lending a gorgeous setting to the elegant limestone buildings. In front rolled the mighty St. Lawrence, nearly two miles wide, the vast expanse being relieved by St. Helen’s Island, with its luxuriant foliage. On the right the Victoria Bridge, that monument of engineering skill, stretched across the mighty river towards the picturesque village of St. Lambert; while further to the westward might be seen Nun’s Island with its shady groves, at the head of which rushed the boiling waters of the famous rapids of Lachine. I have in my youth travelled through both Germany and Switzerland and, later, through the beautiful scenery of New Hampshire and Vermont, but nowhere do I remember having seen a view so grand, or a panorama so picturesque, as that to be seen from the brow of Mount Royal.
For a while the entire party gazed in speechless admiration at the scene before them, when Miss Cuthbert exclaimed:
“I can say, with the apostle of old, ‘It is good for us to be here.’”
“And build three tabernacles? queried Mrs. Clarkson.
“Oh, no, two would do. One for me, and another for you and Mr. Clarkson.”
At this rejoinder Mrs. Clarkson bit her lips, and changed the conversation immediately.