Culloden and Sheriff-muirs,1 young woman; ye'll no be understanding the subject at all, and will manifest not only wisdom, but modesty, in speaking o' your ain country and its many failings. King George has some loyal subjects in the colonies, na doubt; but 't will be a lang time before he sees or hears any guid of them."

Mabel was surprised at the corporal's heat, for she had not the smallest idea where the shoe pinched; but she was determined not to give up the point.

"I've always heard that the Scotch had two of the good qualities of soldiers," she said, "courage and circumspection; and I feel persuaded that Corporal McNab will sustain the national renown.

"Ask ye'r own father, Mistress Dunham: he is acquaint' with Corporal McNab, and will no be backward to point out his demerits. We have been in battle the'gither, and he is my superior officer, and has a sort o' official right to give the characters of his subordinates."

"My father thinks well of you, McNab, or he would not have left you in charge of this island and all it contains, his own daughter included. Among other things I well know that he calculates largely on your prudence. He expects the block-house, in particular, to be strictly attended to."

"If he wishes to defend the honor of the 55th behind logs, he ought to have remained in command himsal'; for, to speak frankly, it goes against a Scotsman's bluid. and opinions, to be beaten out of the field even before he is attacked. We are broadsword men, and love to stand foot to foot with the foe. This American mode of fighting, that is getting into so much favor, will destroy the reputation of his majesty's army, if it no destroy its spirit."

"No true soldier despises caution. Even Major Duncan himself, than whom there is none braver, is celebrated for his care of his men."

"Lundie has his weakness, and is fast forgetting the

1 [The battle of Sheriff-muir was fought between Royalists and Jacobite Highlanders, November 13, 1715.]

broadsword and open heaths, in his tree and rifle practice. But, Mistress Mabel, tak' the word of an old soldier, who has seen his fifty-fifth year, when he talls ye that there is no surer method to encourage your enemy than to seem to fear him; and that there is no danger in this Indian warfare, that the fancies and imaginations of your Americans have not augmented and enlarged upon, until they see a savage in every bush. We Scots come from a naked region, and have no need, and less relish for covers, and so ye 'll be seeing, Mistress Dunham "

The corporal gave a spring into the air, fell forward on his face, and rolled over on his back the whole passing so suddenly, that Mabel had scarcely heard the sharp crack of the rifle that sent a bullet through his body. Our heroine did not shriek - did not even tremble; the occurrence was too sudden, too awful, and too unexpected for that exhibition of weakness: on the contrary, she stepped hastily forward, with a natural impulse to aid her companion. There was just enough of life left in McNab to betray his entire consciousness of all that had passed. His countenance had the wild look of one who had been overtaken by death, by surprise; and Mabel, in her cooler moments, fancied that he showed the tardy repentance of a willful and obstinate sinner.

"Ye'll be getting into the block-house as fast as possible," McNab whispered, as Mabel leaned over him, to catch his dying words.

Then came over our heroine the full consciousness of her situation, and of the necessity of exertion. She cast a rapid glance at the body at her feet, saw that it had ceased to breathe, and fled. It was but a few minutes' run to the block-house, the door of which Mabel had barely gained, when it was closed violently in her face by Jennie, the soldier's wife, - who, in blind terror, thought only of her own safety. The reports of five or six rifles were heard while Mabel was calling out for admittance; and the additional terror they produced prevented the woman within from undoing quickly the very fastenings she had been so expert in applying. After

a minute's delay, however, Mabel found the door reluctantly yielding to her constant pressure, and she forced her slender body through the opening, the instant it was large enough to allow of its passage. By this time, Mabel's heart ceased to beat tumultuously, and she gained sufficient self- command to act collectedly. Instead of yielding to the almost convulsive efforts of her companion to close the door again, she held it open long enough to ascertain that none of her own party was in sight, or likely, on the instant, to endeavor to gain admission; she then allowed the opening to be shut. Her orders and proceedings now became more calm and rational. But a single bar was crossed, and Jennie was directed to stand in readiness to remove even that, at any application from a friend. She then ascended the ladder to the room above, where, by means of loop-holes, she was enabled to get as good a view of the island as the surrounding bushes would allow. Admonishing her associate below to be firm and steady, she made as careful examination of the environs as her situation permitted.

To her great surprise, Mabel could not, at first, see a living soul on the island, friend or enemy. Neither Frenchman nor Indian was visible, though a small straggling white cloud that was floating before the wind, told her in which quarter she ought to look for them. The rifles had been discharged from the direction of the island whence June had come, though whether the enemy were on that island, or had actually landed on her own, Mabel could not say. Going to the loop that commanded a view of the spot where McNab lay, her blood curdled at perceiving all three of his soldiers lying apparently lifeless at his side. These men had rushed to a common centre at the first alarm, and had been shot down almost simultaneously by the invisible foe, whom the corporal had affected to despise.

Neither Cap nor Lieutenant Muir was to be seen. With a beating heart, Mabel examined every opening through the trees, and ascended even to the upper story or garret of the block-house, where she got a full view

of the whole island, so far as its covers would allow ; but with no better success. She had expected to see the body of her uncle lying on the grass, like those of the soldiers, but it was nowhere visible. Turning towards the spot where the boat lay, Mabel saw that it was still fastened to the shore; and then she supposed that, by some accident, Muir had been prevented from effecting his retreat in that quarter. In short, the island lay in the quiet of the grave, the bodies of the soldiers rendering the scene as fearful as it was extraordinary.

"For God's holy sake, Mistress Mabel," called out the woman from below, for, though her fear had got to be too ungovernable to allow her to keep silence, our heroine's superior refinement, more than the regimental station of her father, still controlled her mode of address; "for his holy sake, Mistress Mabel, tell me if any of our friends are living! I think I hear groans that grow fainter and fainter, and fear that they will all be tomahawked!"

Mabel now remembered that one of the soldiers was this woman's husband, and she trembled at what might be the immediate effect of her sorrow, should his death become suddenly known to her. The groans, too, gave a little hope, though she feared they might come from her uncle, who lay out of view.

"We are in his holy keeping, Jennie," she answered. "We must trust in Providence, while we neglect none of its benevolent means of protecting ourselves. Be careful with the door; on no account open it, without my directions."

"Oh, tell me, Mistress Mabel, if you can anywhere see Sandy? If I could only let him know that I'm in safety, the guid man would be easier in his mind, whether free or a prisoner!"

Sandy was Jennie's husband, and he lay dead in plain view of the loop, from which our heroine was then looking.

"You no tell me if you're seeing of Sandy," the woman repeated from below, impatient at Mabel's silence.

"There are some of our people gathered about the body of McNab," was the answer, for it seemed sacrilegious in her eyes to tell a direct untruth, under the awful circumstances in which she was placed.

"Is Sandy amang them?" demanded the woman, in a voice that sounded appalling by its hoarseness and

energy.

"He may be certainly for I see one, two, three, four, and all in the scarlet coats of the regiment."

"Sandy!" called out the woman frantically; "why d'ye no care for yoursal', Sandy? Come hither the instant, man, and share your wife's fortunes, in weal or woe. It's no a moment for your silly discipline, and vainglorious notions of honor! Sandy! - Sandy!"

Mabel heard the bar turn, and then the door creaked on its hinges. Expectation, not to say terror, held her in suspense at the loop, and she soon beheld Jennie rushing through the bushes, in the direction of the cluster of dead. It took the woman but an instant to reach

the fatal spot. So sudden and unexpected had been the blow, that she, in her terror, did not appear to comprehend its weight. Some wild and half-frantic notion of a deception troubled her fancy, and she imagined that the men were trifling with her fears. She took her husband's hand, and it was still warm, while she thought a covert smile was struggling on his lip.

"Why will ye fool life away, Sandy?" she cried, pulling at the arm. "Ye'll all be murdered by these accursed Indians, and you no takin' to the block like trusty soldiers! Awa'!-awa', and no be losing the precious moments."

In her desperate efforts, the woman pulled the body of her husband in a way to cause the head to turn completely over, when the small hole in the temple, caused by the entrance of a rifle bullet, and a few drops of blood trickling over the skin, revealed the meaning of her husband's silence. As the horrid truth flashed, in its full extent, on her mind, the woman clasped her hands, gave a shriek that pierced the glades of every island

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