dreamed that I was in some house, and a coach came up to the door, into which I was to be put by force; and the man who seized me and was putting me in, had no head.
When we reached Montreal on Saturday morning It was not daylight; and the captain, landing, set off, as I understood, to give my mother information that I was in his boat. He was gone a long time, which led to conjectures that he might have found difficulty in speaking with her; but the delay proved very favourable to me, for perceiving that I was neither locked up nor watched, I hastened on shore, and pursued my way into the city. I felt happy at my escape: but what was I then to do? Whither could I go? Not to my mother; I was certain I could not remain long with her, without being known to the priests.
My friendlessness and utter helplessness, with the dread of being murdered in the convent, added to the thoughts of the shame that must await me if I lived a few months, made me take a desperate resolution, and I hurried to put it into effect.
My object was to reach the head of the Lachine canal, which is near the St. Lawrence, beyond the extremity of the southern suburbs. I walked hastily along St. Paul's street, and found all the houses still shut; then turning to the old Recollet church, I reached Notre Dame street, which I followed in the direction I wished to go.
The morning was chilly, as the season was somewhat advanced; but that was of no importance to me. Day had appeared, and I desired to accomplish the object on which I was now bent, before the light should much increase. I walked on, therefore, but the morning had broken bright before I arrived at the canal; and then I found, to my disappointment, that two Canadians were at work on the bank, getting water, or doing something else.
I was by the great basin where the boats start, and
