The Power and the Glory

High above the St. Lawrence stood Louis, Count Frontenac alone, soon
after his arrival at Quebec as Governor. From a window of the Château
St. Louis he was looking across the vast stream which is more renowned
than any other in that hemisphere. As his eyes scanned the immense flood
and saw the exquisite coloring of the foliage on the farther shore in the
bright sunlight, his cheek flushed with admiration. He was now fifty-two,
but in years only. His mind was twenty-five, his body framed to endure
hardships and trials, and these were before him in immense degree.

As looking out he dreamed big dreams--he had a fiery, eloquent soul
full of imagination and temperament--and compared his humble court with
that of Louis XIV, where he had so much been, grim humor came to his
eye. He could not feel he had mistaken his course. He was poorly paid,
but the destiny of this unknown land had entered into his bones, and
it remained there till the end of his powerful career in Canada, where
he yielded up his breath to the suspirations of millions yet to come
of another race, but bound to him as the skin is to the flesh.

There were not so very many homes in tower Town far below the cliffs
where was the Château St. Louis, but people were moving about briskly,
and there came to Frontenac's ears the refrain of a song:

"In Heaven there is a dance,
Alleluia!
All the young Virgins danced,
Benedicamus Domino,
Alleluia! Alleluia!

It is for you and me,
Alleluia!
We dance like the young Virgins,
Benedicamus Domino
Alleluia! Alleluia!"

These were only two of many verses, but the eyes of the Governor
lighted, for they were the spirit of the place; at the same time
there was the ringing of bells in the towers of the cathedral, and
around the Bishop's palace came people eager for the blessing of
Laval, the Bishop of Quebec, poor, unhandsome, but a power always.

From Lower Town there came the words of another song, that of the
Fête of St. Anne:

"Now is the Fête of St. Anne,
Eh! courage, hurrah!
Already at the bell one struts about,
Eh! courage, hurrah! sa, sa!
Eh! courage, hurrah!"

The air was so clear that the Governor could hear the words floating
up the cliffside to the Château from which could be seen Upper and
Lower Town; and through it all there came the steady tramp, tramp of
feet of soldiers near the citadel. Frontenac closed his eyes and he
heard the footfalls of soldiers in his beloved France and other lands
where he had led them.

His lips moved, speaking to himself, then he opened his eyes again.
He now saw a canoe approach the shore hundreds of feet below, and a
figure issue from it and begin to climb the hill leading to his
Château St. Louis. Somehow this figure fitted in with his late
dreaming. It belonged to one who knew the life of Canada,--bold,
strong, in tattered clothes, as though he had come a long distance,
with rugged, dauntless air, and yet with a curious union of triumph
and tragedy. Presently he lost sight of the man, and turned to his desk.

As he did so, the door opened and his orderly announced:

"Le Sieur de la Salle!"