lived, she must inevitably be exposed, and of the dreadful fate of
the garrison altogether, the most menial of whom was familiar to her
memory, brought up, as she had been, among them from her
childhood--when she dwelt on all these things, a faintness, as of
death, came over her, and she sank without life on the beach. Of what
passed afterwards she had no recollection. She neither knew how she had
got into the canoe, nor what means the Indian had taken to secure her
approach to the schooner. She had no consciousness of having been
removed to the bark of the Canadian, nor did she even remember having
risen and gazed through the foliage on the vessel at her side; but she
presumed, the chill air of morning having partially restored pulsation,
she had moved instinctively from her recumbent position to the spot in
which her spectre-like countenance had been perceived by Fuller. The
first moment of her returning reason was that when, standing on the
deck of the schooner, she found herself so unexpectedly clasped to the
heart of her lover.
Twilight had entirely passed away when Miss de Haldimar completed her
sad narrative; and already the crew, roused to exertion by the swelling
breeze, were once more engaged in weighing the anchor, and setting and
trimming the sails of the schooner, which latter soon began to shoot
round the concealing headland into the opening of the Sinclair. A
deathlike silence prevailed throughout the decks of the little bark, as
her bows, dividing the waters of the basin that formed its source,
gradually immerged into the current of that deep but narrow river; so
narrow, indeed, that from its centre the least active of the mariners
might have leaped without difficulty to either shore. This was the most
critical part of the dangerous navigation. With a wide sea-board, and
full command of their helm, they had nothing to fear; but so limited
was the passage of this river, it was with difficulty the yards and
masts of the schooner could be kept disengaged from the projecting
boughs of the dense forest that lined the adjacent shores to their very
junction with the water. The darkness of the night, moreover, while it
promised to shield them from the observation of the savages,
contributed greatly to perplex their movements; for such was the
abruptness with which the river wound itself round in various
directions, that it required a man constantly on the alert at the bows
to apprise the helmsman of the course
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