"St. Eustache, my boy."
"St. Eustache!" exclaimed Roland, starting to his feet.
"St. Eustache it is. I have just seen the Colonel with the General's order in his hand."
"Thank God!" exclaimed he, with great fervour; "we shall soon gain tidings now—you know of whom?"
"True, old fellow!"
"Yes—and vengeance too, perhaps!" added Roland, but his heart sank at the thought of how unavailing might be all human vengeance now!
Never did soldier prepare to take the field with greater alacrity than Roland Ruthven. The chances of Fate or of war might have compelled him to remain where he was, like Tantalus, in his pool, or to move in some other direction than St. Eustache!
It all came to pass thus.
The severity of the weather had abated a little, and even while it lasted rapine and outrage had reigned supreme in the disaffected districts. Sir John Colborne, on the 13th December, with all his disposable forces, set out on his march from Montreal, and Wetherall's little column was to join him on the way to St. Eustache to seize that place and scour the country about the Lake of the Two Mountains, where the insurgents under Papineau, Smash, and others had barbarously driven out all the loyal inhabitants, leaving many of them to perish miserably among the snow; and a vast extent of country was ravaged and pillaged.
Sharing Roland's anxiety, Hector Logan was in the highest spirits, when the troops moved off and turned their backs on Chambly, as they devoutly hoped, for ever.