Sitting on the crest of the bluff, it mattered little in what direction one allowed his gaze to wander. Immediately below the little village, dazzlingly white, appeared to spring from the green bosom of the meadows. On all sides a panorama of splendid magnificence unrolled itself. There was the sovereign of streams, already seven leagues in width, confined on the north by the ancient barrier of Laurentians, whose feet it washes, and whose peopled slopes are in view from Cape Tourmente to Malbaie; yonder, to the west, Ile aux Oies and Ile aux Grues; right in front, the Piliers Islands, one of which is as arid as the Ægean rock of Circe, the other always green, like the Ogygian paradise of Calypso; northward, the reefs and shoals of the Loups-Marins, so dear to Canadian hunters; and, lastly, the hamlets of l'Islet and St. Jean-Port-Joli, crowned with their gleaming spires.
It was nearly nine in the evening when the young men arrived on the slope overlooking the manor. At the first glimpse of the scene which recalled the happiest days of his existence, Jules paused and exclaimed:
"Never have I approached this home of my ancestors without being deeply impressed. Let them boast as they will the scenes of beauty or sublimity which abound in our fair Canada, among them all there is but one for me, this spot where I was born, where I passed my childhood under such tender cherishing! I used to think the days too short for my childish sports. I rose at dawn, I dressed in haste, my thirst for my enjoyments was feverish and unfailing.
"I love everything about us. I love the moon which you see climbing over the wooded crest of the bluff; nowhere else does she appear to me so beautiful. I love yonder brook which used to turn my little water mills. I love the fountain which refreshed me in the August heats.
"Yonder my mother used to sit," continued Jules, pointing out a mossy rock in the shadow of two great beeches. "Thither I used to bring her in my little silver cup the ice-cool water from the spring. Ah! how often this tender mother, watching by my pillow, or awakened suddenly by my cries, brought me that same cup filled with sweet milk! And to think that I must leave all this—perhaps forever! O mother, mother!"
Jules burst into tears.
Lochiel, much moved, grasped his friend's hand and answered:
"You will come back again, my brother. You will come back, bringing glory and good fortune to your family."
"Thank you, dear old boy," said Jules, "but let us hurry on. The greetings of my parents will soon scatter this little cloud."