rode off into the dark tempestuous night to face the unknown.

The unknown is always terrible, but at three and twenty the heart is
light, care is easily shaken off, and hope springs up eternal. A merciful
gift of the good God this, and more especially so in the case of Ivan
McAllister, for, poor lad, he was doomed to have many disappointments.

Some weeks after leaving his father's house, he joined the troops of the
young Pretender, Charles Edward; and three days afterwards was fought the
battle of Culloden, a battle fraught with such disastrous results to the
hopes of many gallant and enthusiastic Scotchmen.




CHAPTER II.

"Oh! Canada, mon pays, terre adorée,
Sol si cher à mes amours"

French Canadian Folk Song


It was a bright August afternoon. The sun was shining down with that
intense brilliancy which, I think, is only to be seen in Canada, or
in the sunny climes of those countries bordering on the Mediterranean
sea. The little village of Rimouski seemed this afternoon all asleep,
for the heat made every one drowsy, and the old French Canadian women
at their doorsteps were nodding sleepily over their spinning-wheels.
Spinning-wheels, improbable as it sounds to nineteenth century ears, are