hould be; go to his marquee and arrange it all. I have lived to
see two things in my old age that never did I expect to behold. An
Englishman afraid to support a friend, and a Frenchman too honest to
profit by his advantage."

So saying, the veteran again dropped his head to his chest, and returned
slowly toward the fort, exhibiting, by the dejection of his air, to the
anxious garrison, a harbinger of evil tidings.

From the shock of this unexpected blow the haughty feelings of Munro
never recovered; but from that moment there commenced a change in his
determined character, which accompanied him to a speedy grave. Duncan
remained to settle the terms of the capitulation. He was seen
to re-enter the works during the first watches of the night, and
immediately after a private conference with the commandant, to
leave them again. It was then openly announced that hostilities must
cease--Munro having signed a treaty by which the place was to be yielded
to the enemy, with the morning; the garrison to retain their arms,
the colors and their baggage, and, consequently, according to military
opinion, their honor.

CHAPTER 17

"Weave we the woof.
The thread is spun.
The web is wove.
The work is done."--Gray

The hostile armies, which lay in the wilds of the Horican, passed the
night of the ninth of August, 1757, much in the manner they would, had
they encountered on the fairest field of Europe. While the conquered
were still, sullen, and dejected, the victors triumphed. But there
are limits alike to grief and joy; and long before the watches of the
morning came the stillness of those boundless woods was only broken by a
gay call from some exulting young Frenchman of the advanced pickets, or
a menacing challenge from the fort, which sternly forbade the approach
of any hostile footsteps before the stipulated moment. Even these
occasional threatening sounds ceased to be heard in that dull hour which
precedes the day, at which period a listener might have sought in vain
any evidence of the presence of those armed powers that then slumbered
on the shores of the "holy lake."

It was during these moments of deep silence that the canvas which
concealed the entrance to a spacious marquee in the French encampment
was shoved aside, and a man issued from beneath the drapery into the
open air. He was enveloped in a cloak that might have been intended as
a protection from the chilling damps of the woods, but w