id place last week, but if things are to go on like this, I shall
pitch away my firelock and desert some night."

"Then you had better do it before de Loison goes, Comrade. He is an
easy-going fellow enough, and don't like the bother of catching
runaways, and says it is only wasting good cartridges. To-morrow we
are to have old Valricour here instead; he is another kind of customer,
for though he is as harmless as a baby, and as tender-hearted as a
woman off duty, just try your tricks on him, and he will shoot you as
soon as look at you."

"I don't care," replied the other doggedly; "I may as well be shot as
frightened to death."

Perhaps a leaden bullet might not have proved quite so harmless as the
superstitious sentry had supposed. When the apparition first vanished
into the fosse opposite the corner of the fort, Marguerite was asleep,
and dreaming that she was once more at Quebec, and listening to
Isidore, as he sang that wondrously beautiful air of Stradella's.
Presently she awoke with a sigh, but only to hear the enchanting melody
continued in a low, soft voice. Was she awake, or still asleep?
Hastily raising herself, she beheld, with a feeling of mingled surprise
and awe, a tall slim figure clad in white, on which the night lamp cast
just light enough to make it stand out from the surrounding gloom. The
song ceased, and a chill blast sweeping through the chamber made her
shudder. Was it the chill of death?

"Hush, lady! Fear nothing," said the apparition in a low voice. "It
is Amoahmeh. Make haste, rise at once; I have come to set you free."

Scarce knowing what she did, Marguerite obeyed the strange bidding.

"Quick, put this on, and draw the hood well round your face," said her
visitor, throwing over her the great white mantle. "Monsieur is alive
and safe, and you will meet again if you can but escape from here."

By this time Marguerite had somewhat recovered from her amazement,
though she could as yet scarcely grasp all the reality of what was
passing.

"Amoahmeh! Is it indeed you? Merciful Heaven! Is he then really
safe?" she added, clasping her bands.

"Quick, quick!" replied Amoahmeh. "This way, through the
casement--slip your feet into these, they are no strange things to one
who has been so long among us," and with these words she pointed to the
snow-shoes which lay just outside the window, already half-hidden by
the snow.

Marguerite shrank back alarmed, but Amoahmeh continued-