M. d'Aulney, in the mean time, kept a vigilant eye on the movements of
the garrison. As spring advanced, his light vessels were sent to
reconnoitre as near as safety would permit; and it was evident that he
meditated a decisive attack. Mad. la Tour used the utmost caution to
prevent a surprise, and deceive the enemy respecting the weakness of
their resources. She restricted the usual intercourse between her
people, and those without the fort; and allowed no one to enter
unquestioned, except a French priest, who came, at stated times, to
dispense ghostly counsel to the Catholics.

On one of these occasions, as the holy father issued from a small
building, which served as a chapel for his flock, he encountered the
stiff figure and stern features of a Scotch Presbyterian, whom the lady
of La Tour, a protestant in faith, had received into her family, in the
capacity of chaplain to her household. It was on a Sabbath morning, and
both had been engaged in the offices of religion with their respective
congregations. Each was passing on, in silence, when the Scot suddenly
stopped, directly in the other's path, and surveyed him with an
expression of gloomy distrust. An indignant glow flashed across the pale
features of the priest, but instantly faded away, and he stood in an
attitude of profound humility, as if waiting to learn the cause of so
rude an interruption. In spite of passion and prejudice, the bigoted
sectary felt rebuked by the calm dignity of his countenance and manner;
but he had gone too far to recede, without some explanation, and
therefore sternly said,

"Our lady admits no stranger within these gates, and wo be to the wolf
who climbs into the fold in sheep's clothing!"

"The priest of God," he replied, "is privileged by his holy office to