"And so we sang the glories For which great Malbrouck bled;
"And when the whole was ended Each one went off to bed.
"I say no more, my Lady,
Mironton, mzronton, mirontaine, I say no more, my Lady, As nought more can be said."
And with the coming of the express would come all manner of news, and the renewal of contact with the East. Letters, at least, should be in hand. Newspapers for the entire year came in the express, a year's edition of "Le Canadien "and the "Quebec Gazette," just as in June the barque "Columbia "brought a file of the " Daily London Times "of the preceding year. Packed away in a great chest, every day the traders drew out that date a year, two years ago, to tickle themselves with the fancy that the post-boy called each morning!
They were at hand! "The express! The express!! "rang through the court. Every one was busy. Old Burris ran up the British ensign on the flagstaff. Swinging round the last green headland like the curve of a great wheel, the brigade shot into view. The song rang shrilly out. From the governor's barge fluttered the triangular pennon of the Hudson's Bay Company, with its rampant beaver and the familiar "H. B. C." upon a field of blue.
"H. B. C." "Here Before Christ," was Ermatinger's translation, and Bruce agreed. "I reeckon ye'll find the coompany's coolers where kirkmen seeldom git." And then there was a struggle to see who could touch the sand first. Paddles rolled on the gunwales, flinging the spray across the voyageurs' faces as they shook the water from the blades.
