attered spirit, recognised in the young officer
the original of a portrait so frequently drawn by her brother, and
dwelt on by herself. She acknowledged, moreover, the fidelity of the
painting: but however she might have felt and acted under different
circumstances, absorbed as was her heart, and paralysed her
imagination, by the harrowing scenes she had gone through, she, too,
had room but for one sentiment in her fainting soul, and that was
friendship for the friend of her brother; on whom, moreover, she
bestowed that woman's gratitude, which could not fail to be awakened by
a recollection of the risks he had encountered, conjointly with
Frederick, to save her from destruction. During their passage across
lake Huron, Sir Everard had usually taken his seat on the deck, at that
respectful distance which he conceived the delicacy of the position of
the unfortunate cousins demanded; but in such a manner that, while he
seemed wholly abstracted from them, his eye had more than once been
detected by Clara fixed on hers, with an affectionateness of interest
she could not avoid repaying with a glance of recognition and approval.
These, however, were the only indications of regard that had passed
between them.

If, however, a momentary and irrepressible flashing of that sentiment,
which had, at an earlier period, formed a portion of their imaginings,
did occasionally steal over their hearts while there was a prospect of
reaching their friends in safety, all manifestation of its power was
again finally suppressed when the schooner fell into the hands of the
savages. Become the immediate prisoners of Wacousta, they had been
surrendered to that ferocious chief to be dealt with as he might think
proper; and, on disembarking from the canoe in which their transit to
the main land had been descried that morning from the fort, had been
separated from their equally unfortunate and suffering companions.
Captain de Haldimar, Madeline, and the Canadian, were delivered over to
the custody of several choice warriors of the tribe in which Wacousta
was adopted; and, bound hand and foot, were, at that moment, in the war
tent of the fierce savage, which, as Ponteac had once boasted to the
governor, was every where hung around with human scalps, both of men,
of women, and of children. The object of this mysterious man, in
removing Clara to the spot we have described, was one well worthy of
his ferocious nature. His vengeance had already devoted h