"Keep your pity for yourself, Archibald de Lochiel, when, forced to execute a barbarous order, your nails shall tear that breast which covers, nevertheless, a noble heart."
"She was indeed taught of hell, that woman," thought he, "when she uttered that prophecy to a Cameron of Lochiel."
With malicious pleasure Montgomery watched for a moment the strife of passions which tortured the young man's heart. He gloated over his despair. Then, persuaded that Archie would refuse to obey, he turned his back upon him. Lochiel, perceiving his treacherous design, hastened to rejoin his men, and a half-hour later the buildings were in flames. Archie paused beside the fountain where in happier days he had so often refreshed himself with his friends; and from that spot his lynx-like eyes discerned Montgomery, who had returned to the hill-top, and there with folded arms stood feasting on the cruel scene.
Foaming with rage at the sight of his enemy, Archie cried:
"You have a good memory, Montgomery. You have not forgotten the time when my ancestor beat your grandfather with the flat of his saber in an Edinburgh tavern. But I, also, have a good memory. I shall not always wear this uniform that now ties my hands, and sooner or later I will redouble the dose upon your own shoulders, for you would be too much of a coward to meet me in fair fight. A beast like you can not possess even the one virtue of courage. Curse be you and all your race! When you come to die may you be less fortunate than those whose dwellings you have desolated to-day, and may you have no place to lay your head! May all the pangs of hell—"
Then, ashamed of the impotence of his rage, he moved away with a groan.
The mill upon the Trois-Saumons River was soon but a heap of cinders, and the burning of Captain D'Haberville's property in Quebec, which took place during the siege, was all that was needed to complete his ruin.
After taking the necessary precautions for the safety of his company, Archie directed his steps to the desolated manor. There, seated on the summit of the bluff, he gazed in the silence of anguish on the smoking ruins at his feet. It must have been about nine o'clock. The night was dark, and few stars revealed themselves in the sky. Presently, however, he made out a living creature wandering among the ruins. It was old Niger, who lifted his head toward the bluff and began howling piteously. Archie thought the faithful animal was reproaching him with his ingratitude, and bitter tears scalded his cheeks.
"Behold," said he, "the fruits of what we call the code of honor of civilized nations! Are these the fruits of Christianity, that religion of compassion which teaches us to love even our enemies? If my commander were one of these savage chiefs, whom we treat as barbarians, and I had said to him: 'Spare this house, for it belongs to my friends. I was a wanderer and a fugitive, and they took me in and gave me a father and a brother,' the Indian chief would have answered: 'It is well; spare your friends; it is only the viper that stings the bosom that has warmed it.'