down to a life half barbarous. These men soon grew as lawless as their
adopted kinsfolk. They were a weakness and a discredit to the country in
time of peace, but in war their skill and daring were the frontier's
best defence.

Quebec had seven thousand inhabitants. Most of them dwelt between the
water's edge and the foot of the great cliff whose top was crowned by
the citadel. Where the shoulder of the promontory swept around toward
the St. Charles, the slope became more gentle, and there the houses and
streets began to clamber toward the summit. Streets that found
themselves growing too precipitous had a way, then as now, of changing
suddenly into flights of stairs. The city walls, grimly bastioned, ran
in bold zigzags across the face of the steep in a way to daunt
assailants. Down the hillside, past the cathedral and the college,
through the heart of the city, clattered a noisy brook, which in time of
freshet flooded the neighbouring streets. Part of the city was within
walls, part without. Most of the houses were low, one-story buildings,
with large expanse of steep roof, and high dormer windows. Along the
incline leading down to the St. Charles stretched populous suburbs. On
the high plateau where now lies the stately New Town, there was then but
a bleak pasture-land whose grasses waved against the city gates.

Montreal, after its childhood of awful trial, had greatly prospered. Its
population had risen to about nine thousand. The fur-trade of the
mysterious Northwest, developed by a succession of daring and tireless
wood-rangers, had poured its wealth into the lap of the city of
Maisonneuve. The houses, some of which were built of the light gray
stone which now gives dignity to the city, were usually of but one
story. They were arranged in three or four long lines parallel to the
river. The towers of the Seminary of St. Sulpicius and the spires of