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He began with the rank of Lieutenant in the Régiment de la Sarre, and was wounded in the battle of Ste. Foye.

Foye the moment the English went out of it, retiring to Quebec, and passed there the night between the 27th and 28th of April.

Hearing of this unfortunate circumstance, which gave up to the enemy his intention of taking him unawares, de Lévis hurriedly led his men under the walls of the city, where Murray, promptly coming out to meet him, the battle of "Ste. Foye" took place, when the French this time saw their efforts crowned with success, the British having to find a shelter within the walls of the old Citadel.

The Bourgeois laughed quietly, as was his wont sometimes. Dame Rochelle sat a shade more upright in her chair. "Pierre is worthy of Amelie and Amelie of him," replied she, gravely; "never were two out of heaven more fitly matched. If they make vows to the Lady of St. Foye they will pay them as religiously as if they had made them to the Most High, to whom we are commanded to pay our vows!"

A drum in front of me began to play a well-known derisive air of the French army, The Fox and the Wolf. We came out on the St. Foye Road and down towards the Chateau St. Louis, between crowds of shouting people who beat drums, kettles, pans, and made all manner of mocking noises. It was meant not only against myself, but against the British people.

A drum in front of me began to play a well-known derisive air of the French army, The Fox and the Wolf. We came out on the St. Foye Road and down towards the Chateau St. Louis, between crowds of shouting people who beat drums, kettles, pans, and made all manner of mocking noises. It was meant not only against myself, but against the British people.

Remember that. I fought on those plains yonder under the noble Marquis. I fought at St. Foye under the great Chevalier. I have seen this beautiful country snatched from France. For sixteen long years I have seen the wolves at work tearing from us the last shreds of our patrimony. They killed my daughter. They have made an outcast of me. I have prayed that the day of vengeance might come.

John stood the old mansion of Belmont, the country-seat of the Bourgeois Philibert a stately park, the remains of the primeval forest of oak, maple, and pine; trees of gigantic growth and ample shade surrounded the high-roofed, many-gabled house that stood on the heights of St. Foye overlooking the broad valley of the St. Charles.

Grubbling's ever since. That's in Budd Street. I'm staying now in High Street, with Mrs. Foye. Number 15." "I'll come after you to-morrow. Have your things ready to go right off." "I'm so glad you took her, auntie," said Faith, as they went out. "She looks as if she hadn't been well treated. Think of her wanting so to go into the country! I should like to do something for her."

And I don't know what to do, nor where to go to!" "Arrah, poor little rid hin! So, ye've found yer schiasors, have ye, an' let yersel' loose out o' the bag? Well, it's I that is glad, though I wouldn't pit ye up till it," says Bridget Foye. Poor little red hen.