"One regiment."

"The Carignan-Saliere. I have no better in my service.

"But more is needed, sire."

"There are the Canadians themselves. Have you not a militia? Could you
not raise force enough to punish these rascally murderers of God's
priests? I had always understood that you were a soldier."

De Frontenac's eyes flashed, and a quick answer seemed for an instant to
tremble upon his lips, but with an effort the fiery old man restrained
himself. "Your Majesty will learn best whether I am a soldier or not,"
said he, "by asking those who have seen me at Seneffe, Mulhausen,
Salzbach, and half a score of other places where I had the honour of
upholding your Majesty's cause."

"Your services have not been forgotten."

"It is just because I am a soldier and have seen something of war that I
know how hard it is to penetrate into a country much larger than the
Lowlands, all thick with forest and bog, with a savage lurking behind
every tree, who, if he has not learned to step in time or to form line,
can at least bring down the running caribou at two hundred paces, and
travel three leagues to your one. And then when you have at last
reached their villages, and burned their empty wigwams and a few acres
of maize fields, what the better are you then? You can but travel back
again to your own land with a cloud of unseen men lurking behind you,
and a scalp-yell for every straggler. You are a soldier yourself, sire.
I ask you if such a war is an easy task for a handful of soldiers, with