him the amazed and agitated girl.
At the same moment Boulanger started up from the underwood, and with
one sweep of his clubbed rifle dashed the deadly hatchet from his hand,
then with another stroke he laid the savage at his feet.

To pinion the prostrate Indian's arms with his belt was the work of a
minute; another sufficed for Boulanger to tear a couple of withes from
a bush, and bind him securely by the ankles to the nearest tree.

"So you have gone over to the English, have you?" said he sternly, as
the half-stunned chief began to recover a little. "By rights, I
suppose I ought to have shot you down without mercy; but luckily for
you I have not quite forgotten our last meeting in the woods."

As the Canadian uttered these words the sharp rattle of half a dozen
muskets was heard at a short distance down the river. Then followed
shouts, mingled with the terrific war-whoop, at which the dark form of
White Eagle seemed to quiver from head to foot. Then all became still
again.

Boulanger, with his knee on the Indian's chest, had listened to the
sounds with breathless anxiety.

"The red skins have had the worst of that," said he at last, as he
arose and grasped his rifle; "but there is something going wrong, or we
should have heard more of it. Follow me, Amoahmeh."

Forcing their way through the dense wood for three or four hundred
yards along the crest of the bank, they came at length to an opening
through which they heard the sound of voices, and passing through the
gap they were soon looking down upon the scene below.

There on the border of the stream stood a group of Canadian militia
leaning on their muskets. Two or three Indians lay dead upon the
ground, and near them lay also a female figure, by the side of which,
with his hands clasped and his head bowed down, stood the Baron de
Valricour. There was another prostrate figure, that of a spare old
man, to whom two persons seemed to be attending. One of them was
Isidore, the other Boulanger did not recognise--it was the Marquis de
Beaujardin.

The story was soon told. That afternoon Jacques Duboscq, who had been
captured on his return to the "Pompadour" had been considerately sent
on shore by the commander of the English sloop in order that he might
inform the Baron de Valricour of the circumstances under which Madame
de Valricour and the marquis had been put on shore at Cape Tourment two
days before. On hastening to the military offices to see if a