eries of shots.

"What's that?" whispered Phil, excitedly. "I know; but they can't hit
father, he's riding away too fast. Do you think they'll shoot after us?
I wish I had a gun."

"Why?" said the Doctor, smiling.

"Because I feel as if I should like to shoot at Pierre."

CHAPTER TWO.

The patch of woodland in which Dr Martin and his pupil were hiding was
not large, and before long they had reached the farther side and stopped
short to crouch down among the bushes, fearing to go out in the open
country.

"They'd see us directly," said Phil. "There's another shot. I say,
doesn't that show the soldiers haven't been able to hit my father?"

"Of course," said the Doctor, cheerfully; and then after listening while
the firing kept on, sounding more and more distant till it stopped
altogether, he held his breath in dread lest the boy should notice this
and ask him whether the silence might mean that the French soldiers had
at last hit either man or horse. But to the old man's great relief Phil
took the silence to mean that the Captain had escaped, and was in a high
state of excitement and showed his delight.

"They'll come after us now," he said, "but I don't care now father has
got away."

"Then you wouldn't mind being taken a prisoner, Phil?" said the Doctor.

"Oh, yes, I should. It would be dreadful for you."

"And for you, my boy."

"Oh, I don't think I should mind much, Dr Martin. It would be good fun
too."

"Good fun?"

"Yes," said the boy, with a merry grin upon his frank young face. "We
should have no books, and there'd be no lessons."

"I could teach you without books, Phil," said the Doctor, gravely.

"Yes, I forgot that," said the boy. "Oh, what a lot you know!"

"Very little, my dear boy; but we cannot think about lessons now--we
have to escape. We must not let the soldiers take us."

"Of course not; but, I say, Dr Martin, I don't think I understand it a
bit. Why are the French and English going to fight?"

"I'm afraid it is because they consider themselves natural enemies, my
boy. Your people have a great part of North America and my people have
Canada. War has been declared, and King George's soldiers have come to
take Canada from the French King."

"And that means fighting, of course," said Phil. "My father has come
with his men to fight against the Marquis--Marquis--What did you say his
name is?"

"Montcalm. The Marquis de Montcalm," replied the Doctor, "who is at