wastes around, and in the
clumps of timber, the cordon of rebels watched and waited.

As the fugitives looked back at the edge of the bluffs
to catch one last glimpse of a scene that was to leave
its mark on Canadian history, a rocket shot high into
the heavens, leaving behind it a trail of glowing sparks
and exploding with a hollow boom, shedding blood-red
balls of fire all around, which speedily changed to a
dazzling whiteness as they fell. It was a signal of
distress from the beleaguered Fort to any relieving column
which might be on its way. Then away to the north, as if
to remind man of his littleness, the Aurora borealis
sprang into life. A great arc or fan-like glory radiated
from the throne of the great Ice-king, its living shafts
of pearly, silvery and rosy light flashing with bewildering
effect over one half of the great dome of the heavens,
flooding that vast snow-clad land with a vision of
colouring and beauty that brought home to one the
words--"How marvellous are Thy works." No wonder that
even the Indians should look beyond the narrow explanation
of natural phenomena and call such a soul-stirring sight
_the dance of the Spirits!_

But there was no time to lose, for should they be taken
now their lives would surely pay for their rashness. They
threaded their way among the wooded bluffs, avoiding the
homesteads, and once they nearly ran into a rebel outpost
standing under the trees near which two trails met. They
made a detour, and at last, on crossing over a low ridge,
they came upon the deserted homestead where they had left
the sleighs, horses and dogs.

Everything seemed quiet as they silently approached, and
Bastien seemed considerably astonished when he caught
sight of the signs of occupation by the enemy. He,
however, felt considerably relieved, for Pepin's pleasant
prognostications were weighing somewhat heavily upon his
mind. As for Dorothy, she felt strangely disappointed
when she found that Sergeant Pasmore had not put in an
appearance, for somehow she realised that there was
something mysterious in his having stayed behind. They
were passing an open shed when suddenly a not unfamiliar
voice hailed them.

"The top av the mornin' t'ye," it said, "an' shure an'
I thought I'd be here as soon as you."

It was Rory, who, after many adventures in dodging about
the village, and seeing Jacques and the two women servants
safely past the lax cordon of rebels, without taking
advantage of the