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Updated: May 2, 2025
She did not answer, but all at once a change came over her, the half- mocking smile left her lips, tears suddenly ran down her cheeks, and without a word she turned and hurried into a little alley, and was lost to view, leaving McGilveray amazed and confounded. It was days before he found her again, and three things only that they said are of any moment here.
"He did the same for me, whin I was taken prisoner, yer Excillincy, an' an', yer Excillincy, 'twas a matter of a woman, too." The General's face relaxed a little. "Tell me the whole truth," said he; and McGilveray told him all. "Ah, yer Excillincy," he burst out, at last, "I was no traitor at heart, but a fool I always was!
"He did the same for me, whin I was taken prisoner, yer Excillincy, an' an', yer Excillincy, 'twas a matter of a woman, too." The General's face relaxed a little. "Tell me the whole truth," said he; and McGilveray told him all. "Ah, yer Excillincy," he burst out, at last, "I was no traitor at heart, but a fool I always was!
"He is shot this morning," she said, her face darkening, "and, besides, he was nevare my hoosban'." "He said he was," replied McGilveray, eagerly. "He was alway a liar," she answered. "He decaved you too, thin?" asked McGilveray, his face growing red.
As if with a sudden thought the General waved off the officers and men near him, and betkcned McGilveray to him. "I can understand the drink in a bad soldier," he said, "but you helped a prisoner to escape. Come, man, we may both be dead to-morrow, and I'd like to feel that no soldier in my army is wilfully a foe of his country."
McGilveray has been dead for over a hundred years, but there is a parish in Quebec where his tawny-haired descendants still live.
They came out on the bank a distance above where McGilveray had landed, and the girl paused and spoke in a whisper. "It is more hard now," she said. "Here is a boat, and I must paddle you would go to splash. Sit still and be good." She loosed the boat into the current gently, and, holding it, motioned to him to enter. "You're goin' to row me over?" he asked, incredulously.
"Not for a Johnny Crapaud like you, and put that in your pipe and shmoke it!" said McGilveray, winking at the big fellow, and spitting on the ground before the surly one, who made a motion as if he would bayonet McGilveray where he sat. "He shall die the cursed English soldier," said Johnny Crapaud. "Some other day will do," said McGilveray. "What does he say?" asked Johnny Crapaud.
The next evening after Quebec was taken, and McGilveray went in at the head of his men playing "The Men of Harlech," he met in the streets the woman that had nearly been the cause of his undoing. Indignation threw out his chest. "It's you, thin," he said, and he tried to look scornfully at her. "Have you keep your promise?" she said, hardly above her breath.
And the Admiral light his pipe and say: 'Bully for us, we are not kill! Who is to make the organ play Make it say zoon-kazoon? You with the corunet come this way You are the man, Magillel Piff! poum! kazoon, kazoon!" Now, this is the story of McGilveray the bandmaster of Anstruther's regiment: It was at the time of the taking of Quebec, the summer of 1759.
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