TheboatwasalmostaslargeasthoseoftheHudson，butitwasnotsolavishlysplendid，thoughithadeverythingthatcouldministertothecomfortandself-respectofthepassengers。Thesewereofallnations，butchieflyAmericans，withsomeFrenchCanadians。Theformergatheredontheforwardpromenade，enjoyingwhatlittleofthelandscapethegrowingnightleftvisible，andthelattermadesocietyaftertheirmannerinthesaloon。Theywereplain-lookingmenandwomen，mostly，andprovincial，itwasevident，totheirinmosthearts；provincialinorigin，provincialbyinheritance，byalltheircircumstances，socialandpolitical。TheirrelationwithFrancewasnotaproudone，butitwasnotlikesubmersionbytheslip-slopofEnglishcolonialloyalty；yettheyseemtobetroubledbynomemoriesoftheirhundredyears’dominionofthelandthattheyrescuedfrom，thewilderness，andthatwaswrestedfromthembywar。Itisastrangefateforanypeoplethustohavebeencutofffromtheparent-country，andabandonedtowhateverdestinytheirconquerorschosetoreserveforthem；andifeachoftheraceworethesadnessandstrangenessofthatfateinhiscountenanceitwouldnotbewonderful。Perhapsitiswonderfulthatnoneofthemshowsanythingofthekind。Intheirdesertiontheyhavemultipliedandprospered；theymayhaveanationalgrief，buttheyhideitwell；andprobablytheyhavenone。
Later，oneofthemappearedtoIsabelinthepersonofthepale，slenderyoungecclesiasticwhohadshownherandBasilthepicturesinthecountrychurch。Shewasconfessingtothepriest，andshewasnotatallsurprisedtofindthathewasBasilinasuitofmedievalarmor。Hehadanimmensecrossonhisshoulder。
“Togetthiscrosstothetopofthemountain，“thoughtIsabel，“wemusthavetwohorses。Basil，“sheadded，aloud，“wemusthavetwohorses！“
“Ten，ifyoulike，mydear，“answeredhisvoice，cheerfully，“thoughI
thinkwe’dbetterrideupintheomnibus。“
Sheopenedhereyes，andsawhimsmiling。
We’reinsightofQuebec，“hesaid。“Comeoutassoonasyoucan，——comeoutintotheseventeenthcentury。“
IX。QUEBEC。
Isabelhurriedoutupontheforwardpromenade，wherealltheotherpassengersseemedtobeassembled，andbeheldavastbulkofgrayandpurplerock，swellingtwohundredfeetupfromthemistsoftheriver，andtakingtheearlymorninglightwarmuponitsfaceandcrown。Black-
hulked，red-illuminedLiverpoolsteamers，gayriver-craftandshipsofeverysailandflag，filledthestreamathwartwhichtheferriesspedtheirswifttraffic-ladenshuttles；alowertownhungtothefootoftherock，andcrept，populousandpicturesque，upitssides；fromthemassivecitadelonitscrestflewtheredbannerofSaintGeorge，andalongitsbrowsweptthegraywallofthefamous，heroic，beautifulcity，overtoppedbymanyagleamingspireandantiqueroof。
Slowlyoutofourwork-day，business-suited，modernworldthevesselsteameduptothiscityofanoldentimeandanotherideal，——toherwhowasaladyfromthefirst，devoutandproudandstrong，andwhostill，aftertwohundredandfiftyyears，keepsperfecttheimageandmemoryofthefeudalpastfromwhichshesprung。Uponherheightshesitsunique；
andwhenyousayQuebec，havingoncebeheldher，youinvokeasenseofmedievalstrangenessandofbeautywhichthenameofnoothercitycouldintensify。
Astheydrewnearthesteamboatwharftheysaw，swarmingoverabroadsquare，amarketbesidewhichtheBonsecoursMarketwouldhaveshownascommonastheQuincy，anduptheoddwooden-sidewalkedstreetstretchedanaisleofcarriagesandthosehighswungcalashes，whicharetoQuebecwhatthegondolasaretoVenice。Butthehandofdestinywasuponourtourists，andtheyrodeuptowninanomnibus。TheyweregoingtothedearoldHotelMustyinStreet，wantingwhichQuebecisnottobethoughtofwithoutapang。Itisnowclosed，andPrescottGate，throughwhichtheydroveintotheUpperTown，hasbeendemolishedsincethesummeroflastyear。Swiftlywhirledalongthesteepwindingroad，bythoseQuebechorseswhichexpecttogallopuphillwhatevertheydogoingdown，theyturnedacornerofthetoweringweed-grownrock，andshotinunderthelowarchofthegate，piercedwithsmallerdoorwaysforthefoot-
passengers。Thegloomymasonrydrippedwithdamp，thedoorswerethicklystuddedwithheavyironspikes；oldcannon，thrustendwiseintothegroundatthesidesofthegate，protecteditagainstpassingwheels。
Whydidnotsomesemi-forbiddingcommissaryofpolice，strugglinghardtoovercomehisnativepoliteness，appearanddemandtheirpassports？Theillusionwasotherwiseperfect，anditneededbutthistouch。HowoftenintheadoredOldWorld，whichwesoloveanddisapprove，hadtheydriveninthroughsuchgatesatthatmorninghour！Onwhatperversepretext，then，wasitnotsomeancienttownofNormandy？
“PutafewenterprisingAmericansinhere，andthey’dsoonrattlethisoldwalldownandletinalittlefreshair！“saidapatrioticvoiceatIsabel’selbow，andcontinuedtofindfaultwiththenarrowirregularstreets，thehuddlinggables，thequaintroofs，throughwhichandunderwhichtheydroveontothehotel。
Astheydashedintoabroadopensquare，“HereistheFrenchCathedral；
thereistheUpperTownMarket；yonderaretheJesuitBarracks！“criedBasil；andtheyhadapassingglimpseofgraystonetowersatonesideofthesquare，andalow，massiveyellowbuildingattheother，and，betweenthetwo，longranksofcarts，andfruitandvegetablestands，protectedbycanvasawningsandbroadumbrellas。Thentheydashedroundthecornerofastreet，anddrewupbeforethehoteldoor。Thelowceilings，thethickwalls，theclumsywood-work，thewanderingcorridors，gavethehotelallthedesiredcharacterofage，anditsslovenlystatebestowedanadditionalcharm。Inanotherplacetheymighthavedemandedneatness，butinQuebectheywouldalmosthaveresentedit。Byachancetheyhadthebestroominthehouse，buttheyhelditonlytillcertainpeoplewhohadengageditbytelegraphshouldarriveinthehourlyexpectedsteamerfromLiverpool；and，moreover，thebestroomatHotelMustywasconsolinglybad。Thehousewasveryfull，andtheEllisonswhohadcomeonwiththemfromMontrealwerebestowedinlessstateonlyonlikeconditions。
Thetravellersallmetatbreakfast，whichwasadmirablycooked，andwellserved，withtheattendanceofthoseswarmsofflieswhichinfestQuebec。
andespeciallyinfestedtheoldMustyHouse，insummer。Ithad，ofcourse，theattractionofbroiledsalmon，uponwhichthetravellerbreakfastseverydayaslongasheremainsinLowerCanada；anditrepresentedtheabundanceofwildberriesintheQuebecmarket；anditwasotherwiseabreakfastworthyoftheappetitesthathonoredit。
TherewerenotmanyotherAmericansbesidesthemselvesatthishotel，whichseemed，indeed，tobekeptopentoobligesuchtravellersashadbeentherebefore，andcouldnotpersuadethemselvestotrythenewHotelSt。Louis，whitherthevastlygreaternumberresorted。MostofthefacesourtouristssawwereEnglishorEnglish-Canadian，andtheyoungpeoplefromOmaha；whohadgotherebysomechance，werescarcelyinharmonywiththeplace。Theyappearedtobeabridalparty，butwhichofthetwosisters，inbufflinen’cladfromheadtofoot’wasthebride，neverbecameknown。Bothwereequallyfreewiththehusband，andhewasimpartiallyfondofboth:itwasquiteafamilyaffair。
ForamomentIsabelharboredthedesiretoseethecityincompanywithMissEllison；butitwasonlyapassingweakness。SheremembereddirectlythecoolnessbetweenfriendswhichshehadseencausedbyobjectsofinterestinEurope，andshewiselydeferredamoreintimateacquaintancetillitcouldhaveapurelysocialbasis。Afterall，nothingissotiresomeascontinualexchangeofsympathyorsoapttoendinmutualdislike，——exceptgratitude。Sotheladiespartedfriendstilldinner，anddroveoffinseparatecarriages。
Asinothershowcities，thereisaroutineatQuebecfortravellerswhocomeonSaturdayandgoonMonday，andfewdepartfromit。Ourfriendsnecessarily，therefore，drovefirsttothecitadel。Itwasrainingoneofthosecoldrainsbywhichthescarce-banishedwinterremindstheCanadianfieldsofhisnearnesseveninmidsummer，thoughbetweenthebittershowerstheairwassultryandclose；anditwasjustthelightinwhichtoseethegrimstrengthofthefortressnextstrongesttoGibraltarintheworld。Theypassedaheavyirongateway，andupthroughawindinglaneofmasonrytothegateofthecitadel，wheretheyweredeliveredintothecareofPrivateJosephDrakes，whowastoshowthemsuchpartsoftheplaceasareopentocuriosity。But，acitadelwhichhasneverstoodasiege，orbeenthreatenedbyanydangermoreseriousthanFenianism，soonbecomes，howeverstrong，butadullpieceofmasonrytothecivilian；andourtouristsmorerejoicedinthecrumblingfragmentoftheoldFrenchwallwhichtheEnglishdestroyedthaninalltheyhadbuilt；andtheyvaluedthelatterworkchieflyforthegloriousprospectsoftheSt。Lawrenceanditsmightyvalleyswhichitcommanded。Advancedintothecentreofanamphitheatreinconceivablyvast，thatenormousbeakofrockoverlooksthenarrowangleoftheriver，andthen，ineverydirection，immeasurablestretchesofgardenedvale，andwoodedupland，tillallmeltsintothepurpleoftheencirclingmountains。Farandneararelovelywhitevillagesnestlingunderelms，intheheartoffieldsandmeadows；andeverywherethelong，narrow，accuratelydividedfarmsstretchdownwardtotheriver-shores。Thebestroadsonthecontinentmakethisbeautyandrichnessaccessible；eachlittlevillageboastssomenaturalwonderinstream，orlake，orcataract:andthislandscape，magnificentbeyondanyineasternAmerica，ishistoricalandinterestingbeyondallothers。HithercameJacquesCartierthreehundredandfiftyyearsago，andwinteredonthelowpointtherebytheSt。Charles；here，nearlyacenturyafter，butstillfourteenyearsbeforethelandingatPlymouth，ChamplainfoundedthemissionarycityofQuebec；roundthisrockybeakcamesailingthehalf-piraticalarmamentoftheCalvinistKirksin1629，andseizedQuebecintheinterestoftheEnglish，holdingitthreeyears；intheLowerTown，yonder，firstlandedthecoldlywelcomedJesuits，whocamewiththereturningFrenchandmadeQuebecforevereloquentoftheirzeal，theirguile，theirheroism；atthefootofthisrocklaythefleetofSirWilliamPhipps，governorofMassachusetts，andvainlyassaileditin1698；in1759cameWolfeandembattledalltheregion，onriverandland，tillatlastthebravelydefendedcityfellintohisdyinghandonthePlainsofAbraham；hereMontgomerylaiddownhislifeattheheadoftheboldestandmosthopelesseffortofourWarofIndependence。
PrivateJosephDrakes，withthegenerosityofanenemyexpectingdrink-
money，pointedoutthesign，boardonthefaceofthecragcommemorating’Montgomery’sdeath’；andthenshowedthemtheofficers’quartersandthoseofthecommonsoldiers，notfarfromwhichwasalineofhang-dogfellowsdrawnuptoreceivesentencefordiverssmallmisdemeanors，fromanofficerwhoseblondwhiskersdroopedDundrearilyfromhisfreshEnglishcheeks。Therewasthatimmensedifferencebetweenhimandthemeninphysicalgrandeurandbeauty，whichissonotableinthearistocraticallyorderedmilitaryservicesofEurope，andwhichmakestherankseemofanotherracefromthefile。PrivateDrakessalutedhissuperior，andvisiblydeterioratedinhispresence，thoughhisbreastwascoveredwithmedals，andhehadfoughtEngland’sbattlesineverypartoftheworld。Itwasagrossinjustice，thetriumphofathousandyearsofwrong；anditwastouchingtohavePrivateDrakessaythatheexpectedinthreemonthstobeginlifeforhimself，aftertwentyyears’serviceoftheQueen；anddidtheythinkhecouldgetanythingtodointheStates？