ed, but was simply prostrated from sheer fatigue.
No strength was left, and it was impossible for her to sit up any
longer. She had struggled to bear up as long as possible, and finally
had given way altogether.

"I cannot help it," she murmured.

"O, my darling!" cried Claude, in a voice of anguish.

"Forgive me, dear Claude. I cannot help it!"

"O, don't talk so," said Claude. "I ought to have seen your weakness
before, and given you assistance. But come now; I will hold you in my
arms, and we will still be able to go on."

"I wish you would leave me; only leave me, and then you can be saved.
There is no danger for me; but if you are captured, your life will be
taken. O, Claude, dearest Claude, leave me and fly."

"You distress me, Mimi, darling, by all this. I cannot leave you; I
would rather die than do so. And so, if you love me, don't talk so."

At this, with a little sob, Mimi relapsed into silence.

"Courage, darling," said Claude, in soothing tones. "Who knows but
that they are still in Louisbourg, and have not yet left? We may get
away, after all; or we may find some place of hiding."

The additional burden which he had been forced to assume overweighted
very seriously Claude's horse, and signs of this began to appear
before long. No sooner, however, had Claude perceived that it was
difficult to keep with the rest of the party, than he concluded to
shift himself, with Mimi, to the horse which Mimi had left. This was
one of the best and freshest of the whole party, and but a slight
delay was occasioned by the change.

After this they kept up a good rate of speed for more than two hours,
when Claude once more changed to another horse. This time it was to
Margot's horse, which had done less thus far than any of the others.
Margot then took the horse which Claude had at first, and thus they
went on. It was a good contrivance, for thus by changing about from
one to another, and by allowing one horse to be led, the endurance of
the whole was maintained longer than would otherwise have been
possible.

But at length the long and fatiguing journey began to tell most
seriously on all the horses, and all began to see that further
progress would not be much longer possible. For many hours they had
kept on their path; and, though the distance which they had gone was
not more than twenty-five miles, yet, so rough had been the road that
the labor had been excessive, and all the horses needed rest. By this
time