“Oh, yes, we get plenty of that. But very little damage is done. I do not believe that General Wolfe really means to demolish Quebec.” And in this surmise the old man was correct.
When the old man was leaving, he shook hands with them. As he did this he pressed into the hand of each a piece of gold money.
“You may find it useful,” he whispered. And before they could protest he was gone.
“He is certainly a good-hearted fellow,” said Henry.
“He might have helped us to escape,” said Silvers, as he slipped the gold piece in his pocket.
“No, I think he was too old for that,” returned Henry, and then glancing on the ground he uttered a low cry, for there lay a small and exceedingly sharp dagger.
“He dropped that, and most likely on purpose,” exclaimed the sharpshooter. “I’ll keep it, for it may come in handy,” and he placed the dagger in his bosom.
Henry and Silvers had been confined for the night in an old house. Two sleepy French soldiers were on guard. As one of them came in to see that they were up to no mischief Silvers motioned to him.
“Do you talk English?” he asked.
“Verra little,” answered the soldier, who was of the peasantry and exceedingly stupid.