but in a girl of Mabel's years, one is not to strain at a gnat, lest they swallow a camel."

The reader will remember that Serjeant Dunham was not a Hebrew scholar.

The muscles of the listener's face twitched, as the serjeant was thus delivering his sentiments, though the former had now recovered a portion of that stoicism which formed so large a part of his character, and which he had probably imbibed from long association with the Indians. His eyes rose and fell, and once a gleam shot athwart his hard features, as if he were about to indulge in his peculiar laugh, but the joyous feeling, if it really existed, was as quickly lost in a look allied to anguish. It was this unusual mixture of wild and keen mental agony, with native, simple, joyousness, that had most struck Mabel, who, in the interview just related, had a dozen times been on the point of believing that her suitor's heart was only lightly touched, as images of happiness and humor gleamed over a mind that was almost infantine in its simplicity and nature; an impression, however, that was soon driven away, by the discovery of emotions so painful and so deep, that they seemed to harrow the very soul. Indeed, in this respect, the Pathfinder was a mere child: unpractised in the ways of the world, he had no idea of concealing a thought of any kind, and his mind received and reflected each emotion, with the pliability and readiness of that period of life; the infant scarcely yielding its wayward imagination to the passing impression, with greater facility, than this man, so simple in all his personal feelings, so stern, stoical, masculine and severe in all that touched his ordinary pursuits.

"You say true, sarjeant," Pathfinder answered-"a mistake in one like you is a more serious matter."

"You will find Mabel sincere and honest in the end, give her but a little time."

"Ah's me, sarjeant!'

"A man of your merits, would make an impression on a rock, give him time, Pathfinder.'

"Sarjeant Dunham, we are old fellow campaigners—that is, as campaigns are carried on here in the wilderness; and we have done so many kind acts to each other, that we can afford to be candidwhat has caused you to believe that a girl like Mabel could ever fancy one as rude as I am?"

"What? why a variety of reasons, and good reasons, too, my friend. Those same acts of kindness, perhaps, and the campaigns you mention; moreover, you are my sworn and tried comrade."

66

"All this sounds well, so far as you and I are consarned, but they do not touch the case of your pretty daughter. She may think these very campaigns have destroyed the little comeliness I may once have had, and I am not quite sartain that being an old friend of her father would lead any young maiden's mind into a particular affection for a suitor. Like loves like, I tell you, sarjeant, and my gifts are not altogether the gifts of Mabel Dunham.'

"These are some of your old modest qualms, Pathfinder, and will do you no credit with the girl. Women distrust men who distrust themselves, and take to men who distrust nothing. Modesty is a capital thing in a recruit, I grant you; or in a young subaltern who has just joined, for it prevents his railing at the non-commissioned officers, before he knows what to rail at; I'm not sure it is out of place in a commissary, or a parson, but it's the devil and all when it gets possession of either a real soldier, or a lover. Have as little to do with it as possible, if you would win a woman's heart. As for your doctrine that like loves like, it is as wrong as possible, in matters of this sort. If like loved like, women would love one another, and men also. No-no-like loves dislike." -the serjeant was merely a scholar of the camp, "and you have nothing to fear from Mabel on that score. Look at Lieutenant Muir; the man has had five wives, already, they tell me, and there is no more modesty in him than there is in a cat-o'-nine-tails."

"Lieutenant Muir will never be the husband of Mabel Dunham, let him ruffle his feathers as much as he may."

"That is a sensible remark of yours, Pathfinder, for my mind is made up that you shall be my son-in-law. If I were an officer myself, Mr. Muir might have some chance; but time has placed one door between my child and myself, and I don't intend there shall be that of a marquee, also.'

"Sarjeant, we must let Mabel follow her own fancy; she is young and light of heart, and God forbid that any wish of mine should lay the weight of a feather on a mind that is all gaiety now, or take one note of happiness from her laughter."

"Have you conversed freely with the girl?" the serjeant demanded quickly, and with some asperity of manner.

Pathfinder was too honest to deny a truth plain as that which the answer required, and yet too honorable to betray Mabel, and expose her to the resentment of one whom he well knew to be stern in his anger.

"We have laid open our minds," he said, "and though Mabel's is one that any man might love to look at, I find little there, sarjeant, to make me think any better of myself."

"The girl has not dared to refuse you to refuse her father's best friend?

Pathfinder turned his face away to conceal the look of anguish, that consciousness told him was passing athwart it, but he continued the discourse in his own quiet manly tones.

"Mabel is too kind to refuse any thing, or to utter harsh words to a dog. I have not put the question in a way to be downright refused, serjeant."

"And did you expect my daughter to jump into your arms, before you asked her? She would not have been her mother's child had she done any such thing, nor do I think she would have been mine. The Dunhams like plain dealing, as well as the King's Majesty, but they are no jumpers. Leave me to manage this matter for you,

Pathfinder, and there shall be no unnecessary delay. I'll speak to Mabel myself, this very evening, using your name as principal in the affair."

"I'd rather not-I'd rather not sarjeant. Leave the matter to Mabel and me, and I think all will come right in the ind. Young girls are like timorsome birds; they do not over-relish being hurried or spoken harshly to, nither. Leave the matter to Mabel and me."

"On one condition I will, my friend; and that is, that you promise me on the honor of a scout, that you will put the matter plainly to Mabel, the first suitable opportunity, and no mincing of words."

"I will ask her, sarjeant-yes, I will ask her, on condition that you promise not to meddle in the affair-yes, I will promise to ask Mabel the question whether she will marry me, even though she laugh in my face, at my doing so, on that condition."

Serjeant Dunham gave the desired promise, very cheerfully, for he had completely wrought himself up into the belief that the man he so much esteemed and respected himself, must be acceptable to his daughter. He had married a woman much younger than himself, and he saw no unfitness in the respective years of the intended couple. Mabel was educated so much above him, too, that he was not aware of the difference which actually existed between the parent and child, in this respect; for it is one of the most unpleasant features in the intercourse between knowledge and ignorance, taste and unsophistication, refinement and vulgarity, that the higher qualities are often necessarily subjected to the judgment of those who have absolutely no perception of their existence. It followed that Serjeant Dunham was not altogether qualified to appreciate his daughter's tastes, or to form a very probable conjecture what would be the direction taken by those feelings, which oftener depend on impulses and passion, than on reason. Still, the worthy soldier was not so wrong in his estimate of the Pathfinder's chances, as might at first appear. Knowing, as he well did, all the sterling qualities of the man, his truth, integrity of purpose, courage, selfdevotion, disinterestedness, it was far from unreasonable to suppose that qualities like these would produce a deep impression on any female heart, where there was an opportunity to acquire a knowledge of their existence; and the father erred principally in fancying that the daughter might know, as it might be, by intuition, what he himself had acquired by years of intercourse and adventure.

As Pathfinder and his military friend descended the hill to the shore of the lake, the discourse did not flag. The latter continued to persuade the former that his diffidence, alone, prevented complete success with Mabel, and that he had only to persevere in order to prevail. Pathfinder was much too modest by nature, and had been too plainly, though so delicately, discouraged, in the recent interview, to believe all he heard; still the father used so many arguments that seemed plausible, and it was so grateful to fancy that the daughter might yet be his, that the reader is not to be surprised, when he is told that this unsophisticated being did not view Mabel's

recent conduct in precisely the light in which he may be inclined to view it himself. He did not credit all that the serjeant told him, it is true; but he began to think virgin coyness, and ignorance of her own feelings, might have induced Mabel to use the language she had.

"The Quarter Master is no favourite," said Pathfinder, in answer to one of his companion's remarks. "Mabel will never look on him as more than one who has had four or five wives already."

"Which is more than his share. A man may marry twice, without offence to good morals and decency, I allow; but four times is an aggravation."

"I should think even marrying once, is, what Master Cap calls a circumstance!" put in Pathfinder, laughing in his quiet way, for, by this time, his spirits had recovered some of their buoyancy.

"It is indeed, my friend, and a most solemn circumstance too. If it were not that Mabel is to be your wife, I would advise you to remain single. But here is the girl herself, and discretion is the word." "Ah's me! sarjeant, I fear you are mistaken!"

CHAPTER XIX.

"Thus was this place

A happy rural seat of various view." MILTON.

MABEL was in waiting on the beach, and the canoe was soon launched. Pathfinder carried the party out through the surf, in the same skilful manner as he had brought it in, and, though Mabel's colour heightened with excitement, and her heart seemed often ready to leap out of her mouth again, they reached the side of the Scud without having received even a drop of spray.

Ontario is like a quick-tempered man, sudden to be angered, and as soon appeased. The sea had already fallen, and though the breakers bounded the shore, far as the eye could reach, it was merely in lines of brightness, that appeared and vanished, like the returning waves produced by a stone that had been dropped into a pool. The cable of the Scud was scarce seen above the water, and Jasper had already hoisted his sails, in readiness to depart, as soon as the expected breeze from the shore should fill the canvass.

It was just sun-set, as the cutter's mainsail flapped, and its stem began to sever the water. The air was light and southerly, and the head of the vessel was kept looking up along the south shore, it being the intention to get to the eastward again, as fast as possible. The night that succeeded was quiet, and the rest of those who slept, deep and tranquil.

Some difficulty occurred concerning the command of the vessel, but the matter had been finally settled by an amicable compromise. As the distrust of Jasper was far from being appeased, Cap retained a supervisory power, while the young man was allowed to work the

craft, subject, at all times, to the control and interference of the old seaman. To this Jasper consented, in preference to exposing Mabel any longer to the dangers of their present situation; for, now that the violence of the elements had ceased, he well knew that the Montcalm would be in search of them. He had the discretion, however, not to reveal his apprehensions on this head, for it happened that the very means he deemed the best to escape the enemy, were those which would be most likely to awaken new suspicions of his honesty, in the minds of those who held the power to defeat his intentions. In other words, Jasper believed that the gallant young Frenchman, who commanded the ship of the enemy, would quit his anchorage under the fort at Niagara, and stand up the lake, as soon as the wind abated, in order to ascertain the fate of the Scud; keeping mid-way between the two shores, as the best means of commanding a broad view; and that, on his part, it would be expedient to hug one coast or the other, not only to avoid a meeting, but as affording a chance of passing without detection, by blending his sails and spars with objects on the land. He preferred the south, because it was the weather shore, and because he thought it was that which the enemy would the least expect him to take, though it necessarily led near his settlements, and in front of one of the strongest posts he held in that part of the world.

Of all this however, Cap was happily ignorant, and the serjeant's mind was too much occupied with the details of his military trust to enter into these niceties, which so properly belonged to another profession. No opposition was made, therefore, and, ere morning, Jasper had apparently dropped quietly into all his former authority, issuing his orders freely, and meeting with obedience without hesitation or cavil.

The appearance of day, brought all on board on deck again, and, as is usual with adventurers on the water, the opening horizon was curiously examined, as objects started out of the obscurity, and the panorama brightened under the growing light. East, west, and north, nothing was visible but water, glittering in the rising sun; but southward, stretched the endless belt of woods, that then held Ontario in a setting of forest verdure. Suddenly an opening appeared ahead, and then the massive walls of a château-looking house, with outworks, bastions, block-houses, and palisadoes, frowned on a head-land, that bordered the outlet of a broad stream. Just as the fort became visible, a little cloud rose over it, and the white ensign of France was seen fluttering from a lofty flag-staff.

Cap gave an ejaculation as he witnessed this ungrateful exhibition, and he cast a quick suspicious glance at his brother-in-law.

"The dirty table-cloth hung up to air, as my name is Charles Cap!" he muttered, "and we hugging this d---d shore, as if it were our wife and children, met on the return from an India v'y'ge! Harkee, Jasper, are you in search of a cargo of frogs, that you keep so near in to this New France?"

"I hug the land, sir, in the hope of passing the enemy's ship with