y to the rough
shed, which he had contrived during the past days to convert into a
rude species of sleeping and living room. He had made a hearth and
a chimney, so that he could cook food whilst still keeping an eye
upon his sick brother. He had contrived a certain amount of rude
comfort in Charles's bed and surroundings. The place looked
pleasant to the wearied, travellers, for it was spotlessly clean,
and it afforded shelter from the keen night air.

They had been finding the nights grow cold as they journeyed
northward, and Fritz rubbed his hands at sight of the glow of the
fire, and set to work eagerly upon his culinary tasks; whilst
Julian and Humphrey bent over Charles, the former examining the
condition of his pulse and skin with the air of one who knows how
to combat the symptoms of illness.

He administered a draught, and bathed the sick man's temples with
some pungent decoction of herbs which he prepared with hot water;
and after giving him a small quantity of soup, told Humphrey that
he would probably sleep quietly all night, and might very likely
awake without any fever, though as weak as a child.

And in effect only a short time elapsed before his eyes closed, and
he sank into a peaceful slumber, such as he had not known
throughout the past days.

"Thank God you came!" said Humphrey with fervour; "I had thought to
bury my brother here beside his wife, and the loneliness and horror
had well nigh driven me mad. If he live, I shall have something
left to live for; else I could have wished that we had all perished
together!"

"Nay," cried Fritz from the fire, "we can do better than that: we
can join those who have the welfare of the country at heart. We can
punish proud France for her ambition and encroachments, and
perchance--who knows?--England's flag may ere long proudly wave
where now only the banner of France has floated from her scattered
forts."

But just at this moment Humphrey could not be roused to any
patriotic fervour. The sense of personal loss and horror was strong
upon him. His thoughts were turning vaguely towards the mother
country from which his fathers had come. For the moment the wild
West was hateful to him. He could not face the thought of taking up
the old life again. He had been uprooted too suddenly and
ruthlessly. The spell of the forest was gone. Sometimes he felt
that he never wished to look upon waving trees again.

As they partook of the well-cooked supper which Fritz ha