ppeared satisfied; and having cast his eyes
impatiently upward toward the summit of the eastern mountain, as if
anticipating the approach of the morning, he was in the act of turning
on his footsteps, when a light sound on the nearest angle of the bastion
caught his ear, and induced him to remain.

Just then a figure was seen to approach the edge of the rampart, where
it stood, apparently contemplating in its turn the distant tents of the
French encampment. Its head was then turned toward the east, as though
equally anxious for the appearance of light, when the form leaned
against the mound, and seemed to gaze upon the glassy expanse of the
waters, which, like a submarine firmament, glittered with its thousand
mimic stars. The melancholy air, the hour, together with the vast frame
of the man who thus leaned, musing, against the English ramparts,
left no doubt as to his person in the mind of the observant spectator.
Delicacy, no less than prudence, now urged him to retire; and he had
moved cautiously round the body of the tree for that purpose, when
another sound drew his attention, and once more arrested his footsteps.
It was a low and almost inaudible movement of the water, and was
succeeded by a grating of pebbles one against the other. In a moment
he saw a dark form rise, as it were, out of the lake, and steal without
further noise to the land, within a few feet of the place where he
himself stood. A rifle next slowly rose between his eyes and the watery
mirror; but before it could be discharged his own hand was on the lock.

"Hugh!" exclaimed the savage, whose treacherous aim was so singularly
and so unexpectedly interrupted.

Without making any reply, the French officer laid his hand on the
shoulder of the Indian, and led him in profound silence to a distance
from the spot, where their subsequent dialogue might have proved
dangerous, and where it seemed that one of them, at least, sought a
victim. Then throwing open his cloak, so as to expose his uniform and
the cross of St. Louis which was suspended at his breast, Montcalm
sternly demanded:

"What means this? Does not my son know that the hatchet is buried
between the English and his Canadian Father?"

"What can the Hurons do?" returned the savage, speaking also, though
imperfectly, in the French language.

"Not a warrior has a scalp, and the pale faces make friends!"

"Ha, Le Renard Subtil! Methinks this is an excess of zeal for a friend
who was so late a