And he stepped forward to take his old carbine from its hooks.
"No gun," said Barbin, laying his hand upon the old man's arm. "You are not to attack, nor will you be attacked."
"Ah! I see," muttered Batoche, throwing his wild-cat great coat over his shoulders.
"You know the news?"
"I know there is some news."
"The day of deliverance has come."
"At last!" exclaimed the hermit, raising his eyes to the ceiling.
"The Bastonnais have surrounded the city."
"And will the Wolves be trapped?" asked Batoche in a voice of thunder. "Ha! ha! I heard it all in the song of my old violin. I heard the roar of their march through the forest; their shout of triumph when they reached the Heights of Levis, and first saw the rock of the citadel; the splash of their oars in crossing the river; the deep murmur of their columns forming on the Plains of Abraham. Thus far have they come, have they not?"
"Yes, thus far," responded the three men together, amazed at the accuracy of the information which they knew that Batoche had not obtained that day from any human lip.