service, or had much better quit the army, for I can look for no
advantage if I remain buried in inaction in this remote corner of the
earth, without the least mention ever likely being made of me."

Unsuspected by our hero, fate in his case was only "marking time."

Day after day Brock saw British ships weigh anchor at Quebec with
Canadian timber for the building of English vessels of war. The
importance of these Canadian provinces to Great Britain awoke in him
dreams of a federation of all the colonies. Cargoes of timber, that
would require more than 400 vessels to transport, were then lying on the
beaches of the St. Lawrence. "Bonaparte," he wrote, "coveted these vast
colonial areas, and desired to repossess them."

Brock's mind was busy trying to solve these problems. "A small French
force of 5,000 men," he told the Governor, "could most assuredly conquer
the Province of Quebec. In the event of French invasion, would the
volatile Lower Canadian people, in spite of all their privileges, remain
loyal?" A certain class of _habitant_ argued that Napoleon, who was sure
to conquer Europe, would of course seize the Canadas, encouraged by the
United States. "Would Englishmen," asked Brock, "if positions were
reversed, be any more impatient to escape from possible British rule
than were French Canadians from the possible rule of France?"

"Blood, my good FitzGibbon," he declared to his _protégé_, "is thicker
than water. You cannot expect to get men to change their nature, or the
traditions of their race, through an act of parliament at twenty-four
hours' notice. Old thoughts and habits die hard."

Though Brock's perceptive faculties were well developed, his forecasts,