The Searchable James McHenry's "The Wilderness (Volume 2)"

All Dialogue By :

" You suspected me, brother, of want of fidelity to your interests. Brother, I promised you my assistance in your need---you now shall have it, for I never broke my word. You will never tell your great king of the east, that Shingiss was a deceiver, because I expect you will tell truth."

" Brother, I have reasoned thus: I will join the English now, because I am pledged to it. The French are more powerful and will beat us---but then we will only be beaten, as brave men often are---we shall not have broken our words like cheats and cowards."

" Now, brother---I am ready to obey you."

" Arrah! Master, now, my honey, never mind them, Who knows but they might come and fire a backshot at us, before we could get home; and then the devil take us, if the chance wouldn't be that some of us wouldn't get home at all, at all. By the piper, Doran! who broke the hangman's neck at the foot of the gallows, master, but our boys must send lead into their wheezans."

" My friends---I heartily thank you for the service you have rendered me, But would it not have been as well to have spared these poor men! Was not your object fully enough accomplished before their destruction?"

" No, sir, When I manage a thing, it shall never be half done, or else the devil is in it. Our object was, no doubt, to rescue you at all risks, but it was also, to do it without any risk, if we could. And do you think that there would be no risk in permitting these men to escape? If we did not pursue them to death, they might have pursued us, by our tracks in the snow, to discovery; which might one day have terminated in the destruction of at least some of us; perhaps of your humble servant, my precious self, who knows! for it as certain as that snow lies there, that they would have discovered and told our names to our good friends, their complaisant countrymen. Nay, they might have taken a more speedy revenge, by sending, from some convenient place, a couple of balls after us, one of which might have lodged in my own groin, where, Mr. Adderly, I assure you I would have conceived it no agreeable guest. In short, sir, by shooting them, I breathe easier, and am likely to breathe longer."

" There may be some truth in your observations, and as the deed is now done, it will do no good to argue its propriety. Let me again assure you of my gratitude for your exertions in my behalf. I only wish that the affair could have been managed with less bloodshed--- but that may have been impossible."

" Arrah, master! it has been done snugly. I knew Paddy was the boy could manage it. Och! long life to his mother that put such an eye in his head when she bore him. By the great Brian! master, if he couldn't, at half a mile's distance, shoot your nose off without touching your face!"

" Why Peter, now when I think of it, how, in the name of wonder, are you here? I thought you had been quietly lodged in Le Boeuf long since."

" Arrah! master, now be asy, can't you keep a bit of a secret; sure I told you before that there are more ways of getting out of Le Boeuf than by the door."

" What! then I suppose you escaped through the kennel again!"

" No, your honour. By my sowl, the devil couldn't now escape that way, it is now a wooden pipe, that you could scarcely put your fist in. But I scaled the walls, may it please your honour, like a lark, and swung down the tother side like a swallow, and so bade them adieu, to eat their own meal and potatoes; though the devil a morsel of oatmeal or a good Irish potato did Peter ever see among them, my honey!"

" My love, banish me not from your presence, and I will adopt any other means of security--- I will conceal myself in any other manner you may prescribe."

" You are aware, that as soon as the French suspect your escape, they will search for you here. They will naturally suppose that, if you be at all in the Wilderness, your countrymen will know something of you. I wish you to disguise deeply, remove to some distance from us, and visit us but seldom, at least until the heat of the pursuit after you shall abate. Tonnaleuka will furnish you with a retreat, for he knows all the fastnesses and lurking places of the forest. Our family will take care to supply you with every thing they can to render your asylum comfortable."

" Oh, Maria! this is almost banishment, it will drive me to some solitary shade where I will be deprived of your presence."

" But it is necessary, in your present circumstances, to submit to this inconvenience, unless you wish to be again captured; and the sooner you submit, my Charles, I will feel the sooner at ease in regard to your safety."

" O Maria! speak ever thus to me, and I will do any thing you wish. But, bethink you, my sweetest maiden, there is not, there cannot be, much danger of my being here searched for so very soon as you apprehend. There is not one of my escort now living to tell the story of my rescue. It will be many days before any suspicion of it takes place at Le Boeuf, and many more before that suspicion is communicated to Du Quesne. Even then, the enemy will not be certain whether the whole party may not have perished, either by intense cold, or by some marauding band of treacherous Indians. In short, my too timid love, I do not believe that the pursuit after me will be either very eager, or of long continuance."

" It may turn out as you say, but it may also turn out otherwise. This is the danger; and to guard against misfortune upon which we can calculate, however remote may be its appearance, is surely wise and prudent. O Charles! be prudent, for both our sakes. O! relieve my mind, and without delay betake yourself to disguise and concealment."

" I shall do as you wish, For your sake I will dive into the thickest of the woods, into the depths of caverns, for concealment. Only let your mind be at ease, I will vanish from danger, although in doing so, I shall be banished from you. I will attend Tonnaleuka wherever he chooses to lead me."

" Now I am satisfied, Charles, all will be well. Under the prophet's care you will be safe. He will be here this night, and shall direct your proceedings."

" My son, you are once more out of the power of your enemies, and it only now requires prudence to keep you so. My son, I rejoice that this maiden has prevailed on you to follow my directions. If you be ready, follow me---but first bid that maiden farewell, for you will not see her for many weeks."

" Oh, father! what do you require of me! Why separate us long? What necessity is there---"

" My son, I have promised to her, that if you obey my directions, I will be responsible for your safety; and I will not endanger my word by exposing it to risk. Your obedience will be voluntary; but if, by following your inclinations, you bring evil upon yourself, then I shall be blameless. Now, my son, choose whether you shall be ruled by me, or by your own imprudent wishes."

" Mr. Adderly, this hesitation is unbecoming, it is weak. Haste, attend the prophet, if you regard my peace of mind, or your own absolute security. Alas, Charles! since you will have me to express myself so, I feel every hour an age, till I know that you are beyond the reach of your enemies."

" I go, dearest of maidens! and I promise to obey the prophet. But, O! let me ask one request. If there be danger in my coming to thee, surely there can be none in thy visiting me. Will the distance not be too far to allow me sometimes to see thee in my concealment?"

" It may happen that I will visit you, But if I should not, you may assure yourself that it will only be lest my going might excite suspicion of your retreat. Farewell then!---be patient, and submit to temporary inconveniences. The prophet is your friend, and O! may God be so too!"

" Farewell!"

" Now, my son, you will see my favourite retreat when I wish for concealment. There are only two individuals, besides myself, who know it, and in these I can repose implicit reliance. You will be the third; consequently the confidence I have in you cannot be small; and the security you will here enjoy from either French or Indians, will be as great as even your Maria could desire. Within is the lodging I am about to afford you, till you can leave the Wilderness in safety. its entrance, except by those who already know it, can only be found by a miracle."

" Follow me!"

" Remain here a few moments, until I strike a light,"

" My son, draw the rope which winds through that pulley."

" Sit down, my son, you are now in my abode. I must warm it. The cheering flame shall blaze forth in a few minutes."

" My son, you perhaps need refreshment, I shall supply you---for within this cavern there is enough for all present wants."

" Father, I require none, but I acknowledge that I need repose, for my mind is overpowered with sadness."

" And what grieve you for? Is it because you are not now a prisoner in Le Boeuf or Du Quesne? Or is it because you are not now in Gilbert Frazier's, exposed to the risk of being again captured and exposed to the vengeance of your enemies? Are you sad, my son, because you are safe? If so, you are here without restraint, and may rush again into danger, if it will give you pleasure."

" But, my son, you have promised to be ruled by me, and it is the wish of her whom you love that you should be so. Will you vex her by your imprudence, by your breach of word? Know you not, that your enemies are powerful and numerous in the country; and if you should fall again into their hands, think you, that they would treat you with indulgence? No, my son---be wise, render yourself content here for a few weeks. You will want for nothing necessary to human life. Food, drink, a bed to lie on, and books to read, you shall have as liberally as the Wilderness can afford. But for your own sake, and for the sake of one still more beloved, I request you to reconcile yourself to a temporary privation of her society, and of the external world."

" My son, I offer you food---I wish you to partake of it; but if you prefer retiring to rest, go, and may the blessing of the Great Father accompany you!"

" Talk not of obligations, my son, My duties are my obligations, and for performing them, I require no thanks. Ah! my son, how miserable I should have long felt a life, whose misfortunes have been severer than any you have yet experienced, had it not been, that among my red brethren I have often found the means of doing good! But your mind is oppressed. Repose, I hope, will relieve you. I will show you where to seek it."

" My persuading you to submit, at this time, to a residence in a dark subterraneous cell, is a proof how anxious I am for your safety. You will, no doubt, feel your situation lonely and disagreeable; but I hope the necessity for it will not be of long continuance; and, in the meanwhile, in order to relieve its tediousness as much as possible, I shall send you a supply of such books as I possess, best suited for your entertainment. You may be also assured, that our family will let you want for nothing in their power to afford you comfort."

" Oh, Charles! how little are the men and women of society aware of the dangers and calamities that often visit the most remote and secluded condition! How have their philosophers and their poets praised, in strains of enthusaism and rapture, the virtue, the tranquillity, and the happiness, to be found in retirement! Ah! they appear to forget that human passions, and, therefore, human crimes and human miseries, are ever, in such places, more violent and fierce, because more unrestrained and unmodified by the salutary customs and institutions of society!"

" But, Charles, the object of my writing to you, is to encourage you to an exertion of patience in your present solitude, and not to magnify the evils to which it is exposed, by making contrasts, for which my inexperience renders me incompetent."

" But these times of calamity, I trust, will not always last. Providence will yet moderate the storm, and grant this Wilderness a restoration of that calm which it once enjoyed. Till then, let us shelter ourselves, as much as possible, from the fury of the times, and be content with privations, if we can only thereby secure safety. I am aware that this advice will not be relished by your adventurous spirit; but it is because I dread that spirit, fearless and rash as I know it to be, leading you into fresh dangers, that I am so solicitous for your present confinement. If it will in any degree enable you to support that confinement, I have here no hesitation to repeat the assurance, which you already have, of the unalterable nature of my affection for you."

" Let me be assured in return, that you will bear your present lot without repining, and you will contribute much to my ease of mind;---and, that heaven may protect you, and hasten over"

" Yes! I am happy. Ah! what can make me otherwise, when I possess the affections, the sweet, the pure, the tender, the faithful affections of such a lovely being! Oh heaven! it would indeed, be criminal to repine at thy dispensations, when thou hast granted me this! This is ample remuneration for all sufferings---this is balm for every wound!---O thou good Providence that hast thus granted me the first wish of my heart, make me truly grateful for such a consolation, such a blessing, amidst my misfortunes!---Yes, I will assure the dear maiden that I will not repine--- I will assure her that I am happy, and that she has made me so!"

" You have benefited much from your night's repose, I perceive, my son,"

" Yes, father; I am much better than I was last night. But, father, could you oblige me with materials for writing?"

" I can, my son. It will be a pleasant amusement for you. I am glad you desire it. By reading and writing, I trust you will be able to spend your time here without feeling it tedious and uncomfortable."

" I shall try to do so, father,"

" With respect to your servant's safety, my son, I have thought it necessary that something should also be done; for if left long to himself so near his enemies, his rashness will inevitably expose him to the risk of being recaptured."

" Father, the certainty of his safety would indeed give me pleasure, and I shall be thankful for whatever your wisdom may think proper to do for him."

" It may be, that he will be unwilling to obey my directions. Your authority may be necessary to induce him thereto. Write to him that it is your will he should obey me, and I will provide for his safety. I cannot bring him here to conceal him, or to receive your commands, because I wish not the secret of this cavern to be known to one of his careless and unguarded disposition."

" You are prudent, father, and you are right. I shall write to Peter, that in obeying you be obeys me, and that on pain of my displeasure he must attend to your directions."

" I have myself been a little alarmed on this subject, lest that fellow's long tongue should some time or other betray to the French the whole affair of Mr. Adderly's rescue. His discovering on himself only would be of little consequence, as the world could jog on pretty well without him; and besides, you know it would be altogether his own business---though I don't wish the blockhead to get into a scrape either. In short, father, I agree with you that, for the general good, we must get him out of the way as soon as possible."

" Have you not certain trading concerns at Gist's plantation, on pretence of managing which we could send him there?"

" It is a good thought, father; I have a package of otter and minx skins, that I wish immediately conveyed to Gist's. Father, I think we can despatch him with them; nay, I shall go with him every yard myself, and fix matters so with Gist as to have our loose-tongued Irishman detained there for a few months at any rate, by which time it may please fortune to turn up something for our benefit."

" My son, here is a letter requiring you to perform some services I have in view for you. Will you have any objection?"

" Now, by the powers! prophet, isn't that a strange question? don't you see my master bids me---och! may the blessing of be on him! But, prophet, may I make free to ask you just where you have stuffed my poor master out of the way? for sure wouldn't Peter attend to him and all his errands, if it should be running in and out of the devil's dungeon, or even a catamount's den in this Wilderness."

" I know your regard for your master,"

" Arrah, now, dear prophet! but you know every thing. You know where my master is. Now, if you would only tell me, so that I might set my eye again on him; who knows---botheration to it! if we couldn't dash our brains together, and find out some method---never fear us for that, dear prophet!---of making our way to swate Philadelphy again, God bless her! but I wish my master and myself were once more snug under the wooden roof of her long beef market, my jewel!"

" But, my son, on your present errand Paddy here will accompany you, and you will assist him as your master desires, in his trading designs. Will you start tomorrow, and Paddy will have matters prepared for your journey?"

" This moment, your honour---if I may call a prophet, your honour---Och! now, any moment, I'll obey my master's orders---but where must I go?"

" Paddy will give you every information, Follow his directions, and expect my blessing and your master's approbation."

" By the jingo! two excellent things these, for a poor fellow like me. Arrah, now, master, be asy---and just tip a little bit of a prayer, and a blessing with it, for me every night. Priest Balgruddery,---oh, the Virgin bless him!--- used to do so. It saved poor Peter a deal of trouble when he was in Ireland, your reverence; and if you'll just do the same for me in this wild country, Och! how I'll skip over it any where your worship and my master please to send me."

" I'll remember you in my orisons, But you must now for some time follow Paddy's directions."

" Horses horns! horses horns!---he'll remember me in his horses horns! What the devil is that, Paddy? If horses have horns in this country, by the great Columb! but it's more than they have in Ireland, my boy."

" He said his orisons, which is Indian for saying mass, It is only asses and stags that have horns in this country. But, Peter, we must be off by sunrise to-morrow. I have a parcel of peltry and furs you must asassist me to take to Gist's plantation. It is only about a hundred miles up the river. Your master wishes you to remain there, where he intends you shall see him, probably in a couple of months."

" See him in a couple of months! Why, sure now, he may be in heaven before that time, and Peter in purgatory, and I may never see him at all---"

" Very likely, or might it not just as readily happen that you should both go to purgatory together?"

" By my faith, and sure that's just what I would like. But my master has never a purgatory to go to. Why, didn't you know he's a Protestant, my jewel?"

" And that will save him from the devil's flail, you think? Don't they say they thrash poor sinners in that purging hole of yours, till their sins are beat out of them?"

" Och, Paddy! none of your jeers now---for it's only when we don't pay the priest well enough to say mass for our souls, heaven bless them! that the devil thrashes them: but it's for their good after all, as my mother used to say."

" Well, Peter, it may be so; we'll not dispute about this matter, just because we know nothing about it. Only you need not expect to meet your master at either Gist's or purgatory, for two months at least. So you must be content to wait for him at whichever of the two places you first find yourself. But take care, that in neither place you mention any thing about our rescuing him from the French. It will do Gist no good to hear it, and as to the devil you may meet with in purgatory, he must know already all about it, from the clattering of the half dozen Frenchmen we sent there."

" Father! you called us here to answer an accusation of treachery and murder. Father! we abhor treachery, and we never slay those with whom we are at amity. We first return the wampum of peace, we break the calumet, and we sing the war-song in public, ere we abrogate treaties. Have we done these things towards you? It is injurious, therefore, to say that we killed your people at the time you were our brothers, and when we professed friendship for you. Father! it was wicked in you to suspect us. It shows you could do such things yourselves, if your occasions required them."

" Father! you must think better of us, and not judge of our integrity by your own, if you wish to preserve our friendship. The English were more manly than you. They once charged us with coolness, but never with treachery; for they knew that before we should injure them we would warn them, and return their wampum. Shingiss thought himself bound to them, and he died fighting for them."

" Father! we will do so for you, if you act generously. If not, we will remove afar off to the English lands southward, and lift the hatchet against you."

" What we want you now to do, father, is, to tell all the tribes that we are innocent---that we scorn treachery, and that you are sorry for having suspected us. We will then forgive your rashness, and smoke with you as if this matter had not happened. We can resent vengefully, but we can also forgive readily. Father, choose ye!"

" My brother---that your people have been wrongfully accused of this deed, I believe. But the accusation did not originate with me. It has been circulated by many mouths; and I thought it was your due to afford you this opportunity, if you were innocent, to justify yourselves to all men. I am glad you have been able to do so, and I hope that every one will be as satisfied as I am."

" Brother---I will inform all our allies that you are innocent; and, for the trouble I have given you, I shall order you a present of rum and some blankets."

" O my love! let your presence but for once bless the cell to which you have condemned me--- it will then be endeared to me, and I shall feel happy!"

" Mr. Adderly!"

" Ah, Maria! blessed girl! and I indeed so happy! Have you come at last, to cheer your Charles amidst the solitude of his dungeon?"

" I have ventured with the permission of Tonnaleuka, to indulge you at this time, because I believe that the danger of my visit leading to your discovery, is now much diminished. I thank God that you have so long escaped; for your enemies were much inflamed at the slaughter of their companions, and, for some time, very ardent in their search after you. Oh, Charles! it was well that you had such a place of refuge. Were you now to fall into their hands, I fear that in their rage, they would at once consign you to destruction!"

" Be not alarmed for that, my love! I might, indeed, if now in their power, be more strictly confined, and perhaps more harshly treated than before my escape; but they would have no plea for endangering my life. European usages, you are aware, my too timid girl, acknowledge the right of every prisoner of war, except he be on parole, to regain his liberty by any means he can."

" It may be so, but what power is there here, in this Wilderness, to constrain their compliance with these usages? Alas! may we not fear that the example of the Indians would reconcile them to the destruction of an obnoxious prisoner; and it is reported that they have lately used horrible threats against you, on account of the loss of their men."

" They may have done so, but, Maria, here you know there is no danger, and if you would only sometimes bless me, as you do now, with your presence, I think I could become content to pass my days even in this dungeon. Oh! if we had but had the good fortune to have united our fates---but I will not now annoy you with this subject. Only---only promise to visit me often, and I shall here be happy!"

" Alas, Charles! if it were not imprudent, I would feel but too much inclined to visit you. But I must be cautious, and indulge neither my wishes nor your own to the endangering of your safety."

" And will you deny me? Oh, surely you cannot, merely on the cold calculation of some trifling, some scarcely-to-be-imagined danger, deny me the only enjoyment that can make my abode here---that could make my existence any where, tolerable. Oh Maria, deprive me of your society, and you will bid me at once despair!"

" Be calm, Charles! I have no intention to exclude myself entirely from you; but my visits must not be frequent, and they must only be when Tonnaleuka permits---for it is he whose wisdom has hitherto regulated all my conduct, better than I myself could have done."

" I will then weary the prophet with prayers, and he will not refuse to indulge me in the only happiness my soul is now capable of knowing."

" Tonnaleuka, will only do in this matter what your safety and my case of mind will thoroughly warrant. I wish you to expect no more from him, my Charles. Oh! would to heaven, that you were safe again with your friends in Philadelphia!"

" And banished from thee, my Maria! Ah, how can you wish to drive me so far from you! Here, even here, in this dungeon, enclosed in the bowels of the earth, I feel happier, because I am near thee, because I can often hear of thee, and perhaps sometimes see thee, than if I were in the midst of my friends, surrounded with all the smiles and the pleasures of social enjoyment, without thee. Alas, Maria! will the day never come when I shall introduce thee to those friends, to that social life, which thou art so eminently formed to ornament and enjoy? How would my friends rejoice in thee! how would society admire thee, and how would I exult, and adore thee! Oh Maria, if thou wert once mine, all this beatitude would soon be our lot!"

" Charles, you are too visionary, you are too sanguine of what the world might think of me. You have been pleased to think well of me yourself, and hence you think every person else must do so. Restrain these flights of fancy, these poetical dreams of yours, and look at what is more likely to be the world's estimate. It may gaze at me, but so would it gaze at any savage from the wilderness, for strange sights I am told will always draw its attention; and as to your friends, they would be likely to say, `It was indeed an unlucky day for poor Charles, when he first went among the savages, to get himself and us entangled and burthened with this woman, who is come amongst us without a penny---a rude, uncultivated daughter of the desert. The loss of the expedition he conducted, was not to him, and to us, such a provoking misfortune as this!"

" Maria, Maria! Oh, have done with such a picture! it will not be---it cannot be so! oh, I swear to you it will not! So beautiful, so intelligent, so gentle, so sweet-tempered, so goodhearted, so---"

" Stop, sir! I will help you out with it; you were going to say---so angelical! so celestial! so immaculate!---I declare, Charles, I already know the whole cant, and you may save yourself the trouble of repeating these elegant phrases. If you wish me often to visit you, I desire you will speak common sense to me; for I assure you that, although I have been brought up in a country of savages, I am not absolutely a fool."

" Alas, Maria! you are too severe with me. Oh! believe me, I speak truth when I say, that my words have never expressed to you half the admiration of my heart for your beauties and your virtues. But, forgive me if I be too warm. My heart is now open to you, and, by heavens! I cannot help it. My love! Oh! my love, little do you indeed know what this heart feels for you!"

" I am aware, that you love me, Charles; and hence I can well know what you feel, for, alas! my own heart feels too fondly---too strongly---the softness, the tenderness, the fervency of true love. But we must change the subject. I came here to soothe your feelings, to allay your impatience under confinement, and to encourage you, all in my power, to support it; and not to dissolve you into weakness, or reduce you to foolishness. I would have you to be resolute, to be manly, and rational; and restrain these inordinate emotions, which only the feeble-minded and the effeminate will permit to overcome them."

" My monitress! lovely inspirer of all my generous sentiments, I will be swayed by thee. Thy rules of conduct shall direct me, and thy suggestions of propriety shall give me law. I will arouse myself to fortitude, since thou bidst me. I will bear, and I will try to bear without repining, the delay of calling thee mine, which fate has prescribed, perhaps, as a punishment for my excessive love. When thou seest me getting weak, Oh Maria! only tell me, and I will be strong if I should die under the effort."

" Hail to you, my children! I am glad that you can yet meet in safety. But, alas! dangerous times are coming upon the Wilderness, when the two most powerful nations on earth will combat here, and make the most secret depths of the desert ring to their very entrails with the fury of their combats. But, my children, I will not shock you, now when you are happy, with a description of the evils that are approaching, for I trust that you will both escape the desolation they will entail upon multitudes. Here, at least, in the worst of times, I expect there will be found by the meek and the humble, safe shelter from storms that will level to the dust the mighty and the renowned! My children, be of good cheer, for after the fury of this storm is expended, one of the powerful nations will yield, and to those who survive here, an age of peace and happiness shall arrive, bringing days more prosperous and bright than ever before shone upon the desert. Then shall come to pass the saying of the Hebrew oracle, `The Wilderness and the solitary place shall be glad for them; and the desert shall rejoice and blossom as the rose."

" Father, that the recent transactions in this country will occasion a war to break out between Great Britain and France, I doubt not. Great troubles will consequently be here, for this neighbourhood will naturally be one of the first scenes of the fierce contention---and oh! that this fair, but tender flower of the forest could be removed to a more secure soil before that stormy period commences! Father, do you not think that this could be accomplished? Could she not accompany me?"

" My son, there are many obstacles in the way. If ever it be accomplished, it must be done with a strict regard to all the rules of propriety. At least, my son, if I can influence the actions of this child of my instruction, she never will yield for one moment to consult inclination or even to yield to terror in the commission of any act that may exhibit the faintest shade of offence against feminine propriety; and let me add, that I believe her determination to act properly and becomingly in all cases, and in defiance of all inducements to the contrary, is as firm and unalterable as I could wish it."

" Therefore, my son, although she loves you, and although the horrors of war may here assail her even to destruction, yet, except under circumstances wherein no duty can be broken, no principle either of religion, honour, or decorum infringed, you may solicit her to fly with you from the scene of evils, but I am persuaded you will solicit in vain."

" My son, until the Great Father shall entitle you in the opinions of men to be her protector, which you are aware, under present circumstances, cannot take place, it will be well if you refrain from disturbing her with solicitations to which she cannot yield, since there would be impropriety in her doing so."

" Now, my children, it is time for you to separate. Daughter, attend me: I wish to conduct you home while it is yet day."

" It will be whenever our father pleases,"

" It will then be, when both safety and propriety combine to permit, But, my son, be comforted: her absence will not be unnecessarily protracted."

" Then, farewell, my beloved! and may the Great Guardian of all purity protect you in every peril, and assist you through every difficulty!"

" Farewell, Charles! may he likewise be your protector!"

" Now, Nancy, Now, my dear, there need be no longer any delay of our happiness. Mr. Adderly has brought a clergyman with him, who can make us man and wife. If you will consent to it, I shall talk to his reverence on the subject, and engage him to perform the ceremony, as soon as you shall think convenient. But, O! my dear, let it be soon!"

" Have you spoke to my father about it yet?"

" No, my love; but I am sure he will have no objection. You know he has long since said that he had none to our marriage, provided we had a clergyman convenient to perform it. Now we have a clergyman, Nancy, and I expect your father will keep his word."

" I expect so too, and if he has no objection---then---then---But you and he for it, Doctor!"

" Oh, my dear! give me a sweet kiss for that, I will immediately converse with your father, and have the happy day appointed."

" You may do as you think proper,"

" It was unfortunate, that he should belong to the prelacy, wha had only cleared aff a sma' part o' the abominations o' the whore o' Babylon, as the worthy gospel minister o' Maughrygowan, Alexander Carmichael, used to say."

" Weel, my bairns, gin ye will marry, e'en in the name o' Gracious, do sae, an' dinna teaze me mair aboot it. It is better to marry than to burn, Saint Paul says; an', feggs, gin ye didna marry noo wi' my wull, ye micht do waur in spite o' me. I dinna like them limbs o' the pope. But they ca' themsel's Christians, though the fule fa' me! gin they ken aucht aboot it; yet syne ye maun gang thegither, its better to be married in their gate than no be married ava. It was an auld saying in Maughrygowan, `O' twa puddles, aye choose the cleanest.'"

" Oh, Maria dear! there they are! what shall I do? I never shall be able to face those impudent looking officers, and funny looking ladies. Oh, I feel already ashamed!"

" Fear nothing, it is a trying occasion, I acknowledge; but I am convinced you will go through it creditably. Why, Nancy, you really look so well that you need not be ashamed to show yourself in any place, or before any company."

" But they will be all looking at me, Oh! how will I stand it! If none but our own family were to be present, I could do well enough, I believe---but such a number of strangers!--- I wish Paddy had been far enough when he asked them."

" You must have courage, Nancy, the two or three first minutes will carry you over the whole difficulty. The first look at you will give these people a favourable impression; and they will not, for civility's sake, you may depend on it, after that, attempt to stare at you, at least with any rudeness or intention to hurt your feelings."

" I wish the affair was over altogether!"

" I myself wish it, I assure you, both for your sake, and my own, for I anticipate that it will be too jovial a scene for my taste. But, Nancy, we must have courage, and perform our parts as well as we can. Your part, I am aware, will be by far the most difficult; but I am persuaded you will acquit yourself properly. Keep up a good spirit; you will get through it more easily than you expect."

" I shall get through it, I know I shall, but then I doubt it will be with a great deal of blundering; for I really know nothing about such a matter."

" Nor is it necessary, I presume, I should suppose, that it is the priest's duty to inform you. Every young woman who is going to be married is not supposed to be acquainted with the forms of the ceremony. The contrivers of these forms must, therefore, have provided for this circumstance."

" There is no help for it now, I must just do my best, but I could almost wish that I had not to undergo the trial."

" Why, are you not getting a good man and a fond lover for your husband? and will not that atone for any little temporary inconvenience of this nature. But, believe me, you will not feel half the confusion you expect."

" Why, Miss Frazier, this is really a novel and charming scene to which we have been invited. I should not have missed the delight of being here to-day for the world."

" The business of this day is, indeed, altogether a novelty here. I believe that nothing of the kind has before taken place in these woods. The singularity of the situation, and other circumstances, for a wedding-party, it is natural should make some impression on your mind; and, as you have no doubt the good nature to view some things with indulgence which you cannot altogether approve, so you may, perhaps, on account of not having expected much to give satisfaction, be inclined to yield to what is really tolerable, more credit than it deserves."

" I see nothing, but what the most fastidious would acknowledge to be delightful; and the occasion is so interesting--- a beautiful young woman going to be married to a fine looking young man---really, Miss Frazier, the whole is charming! What say you, Madame Joncaire, is it not charming? But the bride herself---I must have her opinion."

" It is, indeed, admirable! and in the wild woods too!---who would have dreamed of such a thing! and such a place, and such people!---Why, Madame de Vamploise, I am really charmed! But I wish to hear the bride's opinion of the matter. My dear, will you favour us---"

" I have not had sufficient means of judging how these things should be, to know whether we are here likely to conduct them right or wrong. But we shall do the best we can to make you and the rest of our company comfortable."

" La! now, this is not what we want to know. We want to know, my dear, how you like your present situation--- We are so charmed with it, that we hope you too feel happy. Why, I remember when I was myself going to be married---It was at Bourdeaux, a very gay place, I assure you---how I felt! for the whole world was present---and Monsieur de Vamploise was so gay and agreeable, not like the dry, prim, Dutchman-looking piece of gravity that he now is---"

" Heh! what say you now, my chucky? Why, to be sure I was always pleasant--- but, as to your Dutch comparison, my dear--- Why shouldn't a Dutchman be as pleasant as another man? Answer me that, my spouse!"

" No catechising, I beg of you, It is my province to be inquisitor; and I will inquire of our fair bride here, whether you, Madame de Vamploise, have given her fair play in your discourse, for I know it is seldom that you give it to any body."

" How so! Monsieur d'Abbeville?"

" Because you unmercifully exert all your powers against us, when one half of them would be as much as we could have any reasonable chance of resisting. But, apropos, I think we had better have this ceremony performed before dinner, and then we shall be at ease, and have nothing to do afterwards but enjoy ourselves."

" Nobly said, your reverence! I second your motion. What says the bridegroom?"

" I have no objection, We are in this matter under the priest's control. Let him regulate it as he chooses."

" Well, then, we shall prepare."

" What! I am really glad to see you, Mr. Washington, you remember Venango yet, I hope?"

" Very well, and I remember you too. You have kept your words good with respect to Shanapins, I hear; but no matter, it is the fate of war, and the sword devoureth one man as well as another."

" You remark excellently, Mr. Washington. But I hope you are not come among us this time with any proposals to drive us from this pleasant country. By G---d, all the treaties that can ever be penned in Virginia, will not induce me to leave it!"

" You may rest at ease on that subject at present, I come here on no official business; I am merely a private visiter."

" Then let us drive public concerns to the devil, for this day at least, Mr. Washington. We are come to a wedding, and have nothing to do here to-day but to be merry. I hope you will have no objection to join us?"

" I will have no objection in the world,"

" I think, Mr. Washington, that it is in your power to afford us another agreeable day like this, by giving Monsieur d'Abbeville another job Suppose you detain us for to-morrow. By my faith, we will take it as a great kindness."

" There is nothing more remote from my power at present, I assure you, sir, I cannot see how you could have fallen upon such a conjecture."

" No conjecture, could be more natural. Who could look at that young lady without admiration? By heavens! if I were a young fellow like you, I could not---nay, pardon me---as it is, I cannot---and my wife says that she feels the same sentiment towards you. Upon honour, Mr. Washington, if I did not see that you are otherwise engaged. I should become jealous of you. See that leering dame of a wife of mine, she cannot keep her eyes off you."

" It is yourself, sir, I perceive, that she is looking at, But will you not hurt her feelings by the levity of these observations?"

" No, no, she's too cunning a puss for that. Besides, you may be easy, sir, and speak freely; for curse the word of what we say will she understand."

" Ha! ha! there for you now! I knew she had hit you with her sharp glances, Mr. Washington, although you alleged that she had cast them at me. By heavens! sir, you perceive that her eyes are like the quills of a porcupine."

" That is a strange comparison, I rather think they are like the stars in the firmament."

" Ha! sir, you are too sublime for me."

" Alas! if this most lovely of created beings refuses my love, how wretched I shall be! My heart destitute and forlorn, shall bleed at the desolation of its hopes; but it shall be still more miserable at the thought of the troubles and dangers with which, if she will not leave this Wilderness, she will soon be surrounded. War! shocking and barbarous war with savages, will ere long penetrate to these wilds; and Maria, oh, Maria! how I delight to name thee!---Oh, how wilt thou escape its fury! But I will urge, I will entreat, I will implore thee to fly with me while there is yet time, while thou art yet safe, and before the coming tempest bursts around thee. Oh, with what eagerness I should march in the ranks of those brave men who shall be sent here to drive the enemies of my country from their usurped fastnesses, if I were sure that she who is dearer to me than life, would not suffer in the conflict. But I will prevail on her---O heaven! grant that she may consent to become my own, that I may lodge her in a place of safety."

" Oh, that she were once the mistress of my household! how doubly sweet and delightful would then the shades of Mount Vernon be to me! It may be so; I may yet be so happy; and the time may not be far distant. To-day, to-day, I am resolved I shall ascertain the state of her feelings. Oh, God of heaven! grant that they may be favourable."

" Maria, my daughter, thou art kind. It pleases me to see that thou lovest me. But do not grieve too much. Some day thou wilt follow thy mother."

" My mother! my ever affectionate and kind mother! thou art going to leave me. I will indeed regret---bitterly and long will I regret, thy departure, for thou wert ever good and kind to thy daughter. Oh! canst thou not bless me before thou goest?"

" Oh, Maneto, bless my child!"

" You will not be surprised, Mr. Washington, that I feel so much for the loss of this Indian princess, who has been to me ever since my infancy, the most constant of friends, a companion in pastime, a sister in tenderness, and a mother in affection. By this stroke of fate, I really feel bereaved of a long cherished source of happiness."

" It is, indeed, a great trial for a sensible and grateful mind to witness the death of a beloved object, and one too from whose affection it has been accustomed to derive happiness; and these trials must still be most severely felt in the days of youth, when the frequency of their occurrence has not in any manner strengthened the heart against their impression. But, Maria, you know the duty of resignation to the will of heaven. I need not teach it to you; it is enough to remind you of it; and what is duty, you are aware, should, at all times, obtain the preeminence over feeling."

" You are right, Mr. Washington, I know it is my duty not to repine at such a dispensation. I therefore do not repine. But it would be unnatural, nay, I believe it would be a breach of duty, not to feel for the irreparable loss of such a friend."

" To feel is, indeed, natural, nay, not to feel would argue an insensibility of heart, unamiable, offensive, and culpable. But you, Maria---ah! you do not possess this; but--- but---forgive me---I would say, that you should not call this loss irreparable. Providence can repair it tenfold for you. Ah, Miss Frazier! you can never want friends. Every one who sees, who hears you---but I will not now talk so. I wish to say, that I do not blame your manifestation of feeling on this occasion. Nay, it pleases me to behold it. I esteem you the more for it. Oh, Maria, Maria! I would have you to consider me as one who has never seen any thing connected with you but what he must esteem, and---"

" Mr. Washington, I will be candid, and confess that I believe you esteem me, even more than I deserve. But you are not acquainted with all my weakness of heart, my frailty of disposition, and, shall I add, the errors into which I am conscious of having fallen---"

" Accuse not thyself unjustly, Child, accuse not thyself unjustly, I know every action of thy life; I know each affection of thy heart; nay, I know almost the very thoughts of thy soul; and I know thou art as innocent and pure as the nature of thy species will permit; and, hear me, maiden, if there be on earth a being of human origin who can match thee in purity and excellence, it is the youth who now stands by thy side."

" Prophet! I pretend not to---"

" Hear me, my son! for I am sent for, and must, in haste, go to conduct the obsequies of the queen whom this maiden deservedly loved as a mother. I know something of mankind, even in the state you call civilization; and I know something of you, and can compare you with your brethren, and if I should ascribe to you more qualifications than purity; if I should ascribe to you prudence, courage, humanity, greatness of soul, and true love for your fellow-men, and all these in as high a degree as ever man possessed, I would not ascribe them wrongfully; and if heaven spares thee to thy country, the opinions of mankind will confirm my words."

" My son, hear further. I would caution thee to protect thy heart. I know it to be in danger of suffering the pangs of disappointment. Beauty and worth may inflict a wound which they cannot cure. Adieu, my children!"

" Alas! he knows too well the state of my heart! but what can be the danger to which he alludes? Disappointment! alas, it may be so; I may not be capable of inspiring her with---but, Miss Frazier! I am raving, forgive me---my concerns I will not obtrude upon you this evening, as you may be desirous of devoting it to sorrow for your lost friend. Let me only entreat that you will not indulge the softness of grief to the injury of your health; and that in reflecting upon one lost friend, you will remember that there are many yet left you."

" I thank you, Mr. Washington, for the consoling idea; and shall be careful to bear the goodness of God to me in this respect constantly in mind, so that, instead of murmuring at my lot, I trust I will be enabled to feel grateful."

" Oh, Charles! while thou livest I know I shall never be destitute of a friend. Oh, heaven! protect this object of my first and only love---for if he were snatched from me, then--- then should I indeed be miserable!"

" I cannot but perceive, that this excellent young man loves me. If, indeed, it were God's will, I should wish that it were otherwise; for, although I may esteem, I may admire, his numerous and engaging accomplishments and eminent virtues, yet I cannot return him love for love. My heart cannot be his: it is too sincerely and exclusively given up to another. Oh Washington, Washington! for thy own sake, excellent, admirable young man! how fervently do I wish that thou wouldst fix thy affections upon one who could return them---for thou art worthy of being beloved--- alas, I know it---and yet I cannot love thee."

" How happy did I long feel, in the possession of the parental affections of that kind and amiable being who is now no more. Never more will she smile upon me, and press me to her bosom; never more shall I listen to the words of instruction, to the lessons of virtue, that flowed from her lips! Alas; those lips, and the warm heart that beat in that bosom, are now cold and insensible, and will soon mingle with their kindred earth. Never more will they feel the glow of affection, or utter the words of kindness. Never more will they contrive benefits for me, or speak comfort to my soul. But why do I say never? Is there not another, and a happier world, wherein faithful friends, who are thus separated, are destined again to meet, and enjoy each other's society for ever? Yes, thanks to the great Deity, there is such a world! My departed friend believed it---Tonnaleuka believes it---my parents have taught me to believe it---the sacred oracles of our faith confirm it---the heavens, and the earth, and the whole face of nature show it---and all our harassed feelings, our disappointments, and misfortunes; our bereavements, our pains, and our sorrows of this world, all find consolation and solace in the idea. Glory to God for it! I will cherish, I will dwell upon the sweet reflection, and anticipate, even here, the delights of a future existence!"

" Brothers and sisters, before you commence your funeral dance, before you convey your beloved queen into her last dwelling, and sing over her the song of your sadness, listen to my words."

" You appear all to be healthy just now, and full of life, and many of you, no doubt, promise yourselves the enjoyment of a long existence---for there are many of you yet young. But listen to me. What avails health, or youth, or the full tide of flowing blood, when Maneto says you must die? Then disease or accident, or perhaps the hatchet of war, does its duty; and then we return, as the queen our sister has done, our bodies to the earth of which they were made, and our souls to the Great Spirit who made them in a manner he has not revealed to us. Why, then, should we be proud of this life, or seek to render any of our fellow-mortals, who may enjoy its transitory existence, miserable?"

" Alas! listen to me. The existence is but transitory, whether it be of joy or of misery, that we can experience here. She who lies there, I have seen young, happy, admired, and beloved. Many of you have also seen her so. Think of it, brothers and sisters: does it not appear as if it were but yesterday? But look at her now! Where are the smiles which drew warriors after her?--- where are the graces which captivated counsellors and chiefs?---where is that dignity of mien, and that authority of expression, which both men and women delighted to obey? Alas! they are to her as if they had never been, and to us their existence is like a shadow, passing only through our recollection, as if we had but seen it in a dream! Such will be the fate of the sensations of all here---nay, of all mankind! We are but the insects of a day: the fleeting hour of sunshine passes---the night of death comes, and we are no more! So rapid, and of such little consequence, is our present existence."

" But listen to me, brothers and sisters---The manner in which we use that existence is of consequence. And why? Because there is another; and one to which we must immediately proceed, and receive the reward of bliss or of wo, as we have here earned it."

" Listen again! Ye grieve for Alliquippa---ye think she has been unfortunate, in being thus separated from you whom she loved to reside among. But hear me---she has been fortunate in the transition, because she was virtuous, and good-hearted, and did her duty, and for these things her spirit is now receiving a glorious recompense from the Almighty Maneto!"

" Then, brothers and sisters, what I would now advise you to do, is this---When you think of her who lies here, let it be to imitate her virtues. You will never then have cause to fear the approach of death---Nay, the sooner he comes, it will be the better for you, as you will thereby the sooner obtain the reward of your good conduct from the justice of the Great Father, who will then receive you into his favour."

" Now, brothers and sisters, you may perform your solemnities, and bury your queen. I go to worship the Great Father."

" Here, Maria, is the place where I first beheld you; and from that moment to this, the image that you then impressed upon my mind has never for one instant left it---Ah! never, never will it leave it!"

" Mr. Washington, I hesitate not to credit your assertions; for I know that your mind is superior to the common custom in which the gay part of your sex, I am informed, indulge themselves, of seizing all occasions to flatter ours, even often at the expense of truth. And because I believe you, and esteem you so sincerely as to feel an ardent desire for your welfare, I will candidly say, that I am sorry you should have viewed me in the light you have done."

" O Maria! do not use these chilling expressions. How can you, if you esteem me, and wish for my welfare, regret that which has afforded me the sweetest sensations of my life! that which, although it has, indeed, occasioned me many hours of painful anxiety, has, nevertheless, been the delight of my existence, the sacred charm which has often buoyed my hopes into rapture, and presented to my enamoured view the lovely vision of felicity which it might be my lot to enjoy! Oh Maria, do not say you are sorry for this!"

" Alas, Mr. Washington! if I respected you less, I might feel less sorrow on this subject. But you deserve to be happy, and to make you so, the woman of your choice should be capable of loving you with an ardour equal to your own---with an ardour of which I feel, and must for ever feel, myself incapable. In short, sir, it is my earnest wish that you should bestow upon a more suitable object, those affections of which I am but too conscious I am not worthy."

" Not worthy! not worthy of my affections! Ah, then, what woman on earth can be worthy of them? Oh Maria! I have seen, I have been acquainted with many females; and if I were to make, in your hearing, the comparison which my fancy has often formed between you and the fairest, the best of them, your modesty would not tolerate it. You would not listen to me;---you would command me to be silent. Alas! to draw the picture which my imagination has formed of your person and your virtues, would excite your incredulity, and subject me to the suspicion of insincerity. But with you, with none, will I ever be insincere. Oh! if you cannot---"

" Sir, I must interrupt you. If I thought you could be insincere in any of your professions, I would abandon every good opinion I have hitherto had of mankind. I must, therefore, believe that you do entertain the exaggerated and erroneous opinion of my good qualities which you mention. But this is owing to the generous impulse of your nature, which has led you astray, and induced you to give me credit for excellences which I do not possess. Permit me to say, that you do not know me sufficiently to judge of me accurately. If you did, it might relieve us both of much uneasiness. You would see the necessity of forming a better choice; and, because I know that it would contribute to your happiness, I should rejoice that you had done so."

" Maria! Oh, tantalizing girl! Another choice, did you say! No; let heaven hear me! I swear that, unless thou dost peremptorily and finally refuse to be mine, I shall never form another choice; and even then, should that ever be, which heaven forbid, my choice may be the dictate of duty, but I never shall be impelled to it by that warm, that irresistible feeling of heart and soul, which urges me to sue thee to become the partner of my love, the mistress of my fortune, the fondly-cherished wife of my bosom, the dear, the sweet source of all my earthly happiness. O Maria! wilt thou not yield to it? wiltthou not become mine? This Wilderness is an unfit---"

" Mr. Washington, excuse me; but I must speak, to undeceive you---or---or rather to remind you, that I have already said I can feel for you every thing but love---alas, that---that alone is impossible---and without love, how could I assent to the proposals with which you honour me. No, sir, I will submit it to your own feelings--- without my heart, would my hand be worth accepting?"

" Time, time, my sweetest of maidens! time, and my long-continued anxious assiduities, would excite your gratitude; my sufferings on your account, oh! they must surely excite your pity; and gratitude and pity would soon produce love. Oh, Maria! you would not be long so cold, so indifferent, so cruel towards one so devoted to you, as you expect. You could not---it is not in your nature---"

" Ah, sir! you know not, you cannot know, my feelings on this subject. You may charge me with cruelty---alas, sir, I am not cruel. That I feel pity for you just now, heaven is my witness; but that I never can feel love, heaven also knows."

" Maria, you talk mysteriously, Indeed, my love, I cannot understand you. You pity me, and you will never love me! But, enchanting maiden, although you say it, I will hope against it; and trust that time will soften your heart, and dispose it towards---"

" Never, never! I cannot be---"

" Oh! use not these cruel words, I will not ask you at present to be mine. I will have hope---I will have patience---But, O! fly this Wilderness, my beloved, for there will soon be no safety for you here. Oh Maria! this circumstance is at present the great, the immediate object of my solicitude. The legions of a powerful nation will soon carry their thunders into this forest to root their enemies out of it. The conflict will be dreadful; and oh! to what accidents wilt thou not be then exposed? If thou wilt not fly from peril as my wife, let us persuade the whole of thy friends also to go. I will yield them shelter. I will bestow upon them comfort and abudance in a pleasant asylum, where thou, whose safety is more dear to me than the air I breathe, wilt have nothing to fear from the evils of war."

" Sir, you are kind and generous; but it is your nature, and does not surprise me---for what virtue could you display that would surprise me! Yet I would not do myself justice if I did not express my gratitude for the friendly solicitude and liberality which has dictated this proposal: but I cannot see that my father's family are in such danger as to induce their removal from a place where they have so long resided, and where they have often, in the worst of times, of late years, experienced safety."

" The war that is now threatened, will be quite different in its extent and consequences from any they have yet seen; and as the savage tribes that will be engaged in it are much exasperated against every thing British, no doubt its ferocity will be greatly aggravated beyond any thing that has yet arisen from former wars in this country. Your family will, therefore, be more exposed than formerly. Ah! Miss Frazier, I indeed tremble for your safety, unless you can be prevailed on to leave this place before the bloody era commences."

" Mr. Washington, peculiarly circumstanced as my father's family is in respect to all the parties who are likely to engage in the war you anticipate, I do not suppose, that, unless some of them take an active part in the quarrel, there is much danger of our being molested. With the French and Indians we are now on terms of intimacy. Our feelings and affections are with the English, it is true, and the French may suspect this, yet so long as we join neither party, I think that neither will injure us. But you may lay your proposal for our removal before my father. With his determination in this matter I must of course comply; but your solicitude on my account must be kept altogether out of view."

" I will try this expedient, I may prevail with your father, and by this means have the satisfaction of securing your safety, to effect which was the great object of my present visit to the Wilderness."

" God has aye been gracious to me, since I cam' into thir backwoods; an' though a' ye represent in sae freen'ly a manner may be true, yet I wunna noo mistrust his providence; for ye ken hoo the prophet reprimanded the godly Asa for trusting in the strength o' Egypt an' no' in the arm o' the Lord."

" The day we should attempt it, you may rely on it, a troop of horse, and a tribe of Indians, at the very least, would surround us, and force us to take up our abode, not in our own dwelling again, it is true, but in Fort Du Quesne; so that all we should gain by the attempt would be to make them enemies who are now our friends. No, I think we can be of more service to the British cause by remaining here, and keeping on good terms with their enemies, for then, you know the opportunity for a little stratagem in war may be more conveniently watched."

" My son, I know there will be an alarming time in this quarter, and I fear that that young woman will be peculiarly exposed. But make your mind easy. I will think of your generosity towards her, and her friends, and shall not be less solicitous for their safety than yourself. Hers, in particular, you may be assured I shall watch over with all the anxiety and care you can wish. Ah, sir! think you I can be indifferent to the fate of her who has grown up from her infancy to what you now see her, under my tuition and care! Be satisfied, I will protect her as I would the apple of my eye."

" Give me one more promise, my father, and I shall be satisfied, promise me that if thy power should fall short in protecting her, for thy will I do not distrust, thou wilt give me the speediest intelligence of whatever misfortune may befall her, so that no time may be lost before I can fly to her deliverance."

" I promise thee this, And since thy country will soon need thee much, go now, attend to her call, and take my blessing with thee, and may heaven preserve thee long for the benefit of millions!"

" Thank thee, father, and farewell!"

" If you wish to drive the French from Fort Du Quesne, if you wish to save our border-settlers from the depredations and horrors which the savage allies of our enemy meditate against them as soon as the season will permit their irruptions, you will attempt it without delay. Time passes on, the day fast approaches when the Indians will strike their winter-tents, and prepare for war and devastation. The enemy which supports and encourages them to mischief, is every day strengthening himself. While he is yet weak, the means you can already command, may drive him from his strong-hold, afar from our borders, and compel the barbarous tribes, who do his bidding, to remain quietly in their own forests, without daring to search for human victims upon our frontiers."

" If, on the other hand, you delay till the fort on the Ohio is completed, and until it shall be filled with troops and stores from Canada, the favourable moment will have departed for ever, and the power of a nation may not then be able to do what could now be done by that of a colony."

" Here, here it was that, while standing in this spot, that vision of light so unexpectedly burst upon my view! There she sat, as fixed to this place I listened to the tones of her enchanting voice. Ah! I will never forget that moment when she looked up and showed me a countenance of more than mortal beauty, such a countenance as my imagination in its romantic moments had often attempted to depict, but had never before seen, and till then, had despaired of ever seeing. Oh! what varied sensations both of joy and misery have I since sustained! But, alas, little of joy appears now to be before me. I might have been happy had I never seen her: but no---thank heaven I have seen her, I have conversed with her, although it has ruined my peace; for such an idea, such a lovely idea, as her image alone could impart to my soul, was necessary to make me happy. She refuses me, alas, but she esteems me, and the time may come when her heart may be disposed to love; for heaven surely could not have made her so essential to my happiness, without ordaining her for me!"

" My son, I could wish thy hopes to be better founded,"

" Father, thou knowest the maiden, Ah! tell me---thinkest thou, can her heart ever be mine?"

" My son, the chances are now against thee, but the fates may in the end be favourable. I will neither desire thee to hope nor to despair."

" But hear me, my son, there is a person concealed in these woods from the enmity of the French. He is of a generous and daring mind, a Briton like thyself, and like thyself, a soldier. He has heard of thy coming with an armed force, and longs to join thee against the enemies of his country. Wilt thou receive him?"

" With great pleasure, and a hearty welcome, May I ask his name?"

" Charles Adderly,"

" I am glad of it, He is a young man of indeed a gallant spirit, and will be a real acquisition to me. I have often of late wondered where he was concealed. I heard of his rescue from the French, and could not think he had made his way to Philadelphia, otherwise it would have been publicly known. But where shall I see him?"

" Let me first inquire when you intend returning to your army?"

" To-night I believe; as it is moonlight, I think I need not delay longer."

" Then to-night, at ten o'clock, he shall here meet you, if that hour answers,"

" I shall make it answer,"

" Then, farewell, my son,"

" Ah, my love! I almost feel inclined to reject that liberty, and to forego that honourable service, which is now open to me, since they will be purchased at the dear rate of leaving thy vicinity, of depriving myself of these sweet visits with which thou hast made my asylum happy. Oh Maria! honour calls me---but how can I think of removing so far from thee?"

" Charles! I indeed feel uneasy at the thought of your being again exposed to the hazards of war. But it is perhaps your duty, Tonnaleuka approves of it, and he knows better; at least, he can judge more cooly on this matter than I can. I pray that God may watch over your safety---"

" And oh! may he watch over thine, thou lovely, but tender plant, whom I must thus leave exposed to all the rude storms of a barbarous forest! But my absence shall not be long, my love---we shall soon advance forward under our prudent and heroic leader, and root our enemies out of their strong holds."

" It is a comfort to me, that you will be under such a chief. I know him, my Charles---I have heard Tonnaleuka speak of his qualities, and I am persuaded that if wisdom can command success, and virtue deserve it, it will follow his standard. But, oh Charles! he may be successful, and yet thou be lost, lost to thy Maria. Alas! alas! I cannot help trembling when I think of the numerous accidents of war to which thou wilt soon be exposed."

" Fear not, my dearest, my best beloved! Fear not---the God whom thou servest, and who made thee so pure and so lovely, will preserve me for thy sake."

" I will never cease to pray fervently, that he may---and, although I cannot help suffering fear lest misfortune should assail the betrothed of my heart when he becomes so exposed to danger, yet I will not distrust either the power or goodness of that God, who, I know, is as able to save in the whirlwind as in the calm. And, oh Charles---may I conjure you never to cease to trust in him, and implore him to be your guide, as well as your guard."

" Maria, my sweetest love! it is my duty to do so; and since thou desirest it, it shall be my study, it shall be my pleasure, my---"

" Oh, Charles! I trust that it has always been thy pleasure. Oh, say not that it is to gratify me that you would make it so."

" Maria, hear me, my love! I have never yet been insensible to the delight that arises from worshipping God, and I hope I never shall. But to obey thy injunction is in itself a pleasure, distinct and rapturous, which until my heart ceases to beat it shall keenly feel; and even the first of my duties, the worshipping of my God, shall derive additional pleasure from thy commanding it. Oh Maria! do not think me profane when I say that religion appears to me more lovely when it is recommended by thee."

" My children, you are now about to separate. Let it be with fortitude and resignation. The will of heaven respecing you cannot be yet known. But repose confidence in your Great Father, and serve him; and whatsoever accidents may befall you, be assured that, although they may produce temporary distress, they will in the end result in your lasting advantage. Such, such, will ever be the happy fate of those who, amidst all trials, maintain their integrity."

" This, my children, is my advice. I wish you to attend to it."

" For you, my son, this night at ten o'clock your chief will await your coming to the place where I will conduct you. Be ready, therefore, to meet him---and study to love and obey him, for he is worthy of love and obedience. I would also say, imitate his virtues; but they are inimitable."

" And now, my daughter, Bid this young man farewell, and come along with me. I doubt not but heaven will again grant you to meet, and perhaps at no distant period."

" God grant it, Then since it must be so, farewell---farewell, my love! farewell."

" Miss Frazier, I was beginning to despair of seeing you before I set off. You seem to be like the great huntress of the Grecian mythology, who esteemed the shades for nothing so much as their concealing her from the eyes of visiters."

" I have always, in good weather, been fond of the woods, although I did not seek them to-day, I assure you, for the purpose of avoiding visiters; and with respect to those who now honour us with their presence, they are the last in the world towards whom I should be disposed to act the part of the shy Diana. No, no, sir, they stand too high in my estimation for that."

" Notwithstanding which, you have for the last six hours at least, exclusively favoured the rocks and the streams with your company, to the great disappointment and vexation of us your poor visiters, who have been the whole afternoon fretting and pining so much at your absence, that we could have wished ourselves changed into rocks, and trees, and fountains, if so we could have enjoyed your presence. But it was perhaps as well, as we now enjoy it the more sensibly, on account of having so severely felt the want of it."

" I am really glad that I can make any atonement for my fault, But methinks, Mr. Washington, that if the company had suffered so very much from my absence, it would hardly exhibit the contented, good-humoured, and sprightly countenances I now behold."

" It is only when you are present, that you can perceive such happy countenances,"

" I acknowledge it, I have not the power of seeing through hills and rocks, and cannot exactly behold felicity any where but in my presence. In some cases, however, it may be right to judge of the past by the present; and if so, I cannot suppose that any of you here have been very unhappy this afternoon."

" Ah, Miss Frazier! you know that the minds of men are variable; and you have yourself seen plants drooping in the rain, that have almost instantaneously erected their heads, and become lively and gay in the sunshine."

" I have seen such appearances, and I believe, sir, that you have not erred in resembling them to the fickle tempers of men---a strange race of beings, for so assiduously avoiding whom, I cannot but give the woodland goddess you spoke of, some credit."

" I acknowledge you have the advantage of me in this respect, I cannot retort upon you; for I know no one of the gods who ever thought of avoiding women, otherwise I might eulogize his firmness, although I confess that I would heartily condemn his taste. But, alas! Miss Frazier, to speak seriously, it was cruel to deprive me of your company to-day. My stay here must be very short, and I wished to have all my friends in this place around me while it lasted. O! would to heaven that every member of this family were now at Mount Vernon, safely removed from the havoc and distress which barbarous war has destined for this quarter of the country. But I trust God will protect you, if I cannot."

" Ye were aye frienly an' kin', an' hae a gude religious heart o' yere ain, whilk I'm muckle mistaken if God dinna bless to abundant satisfying, as oor minister at the Juniata used to say. Ah! it's a pleasing sicht to see a soldier wha fears naethin' but to offend his God; an' I doot na but he'll, in every strait, remember your trust in him, an' keep you in the hollow o' his hand, and under the shadow o' his wings. For me, syne ye hae ta'en up the sword in a gude cause, to stop the ravages o' thir French an' Indians on oor christian neighbours, I'll aye pray for your success."

" Some Indians have informed the Governor this very day, that you are approaching with several hundred Virginians to attack the fort. The whole garrison has in consequence been, during the afternoon, in commotion; and I waited a couple of hours longer among them than I intended, in order to see what measures they would adopt. After holding councils of war, making speeches, and drinking wine in abundance, they at last resolved to detach about a hundred men to watch your motions, impede your progress, and send you to the devil, I suppose, if they can. These fellows started at a quick pace about an hour and a half since, under one Major Jumonville; and may heaven send them all safely into your clutches."

" I must then return immediately to my camp, in order to prepare for their reception,"

" Wisely said, but you must take care not to fall into their hands on your way. Let me see; they have taken the northern route, I suppose that they may come upon you from behind--- though heaven only knows what they mean. I'll watch them, however, and give you timely notice of their movements."

" We must now set off, and endeavour to avoid them as well as we can, The night will favour us, in case they come upon our course."

" There are private and near paths, Let me think a moment---can I not procure you a guide? Doctor Killbreath, or Archy --- No---the Doctor's too ignorant of the country, and Archy is a---blockhead. I had better conduct you myself, till you're out of danger; and then, trust me, sir, I shall soon scent the designs of the Frenchmen."

" This, I believe, is the best arrangement, I thank you, Mr. Frazier, for your zeal. I hope it shall yet be in my power to reward you."

" As you choose for that,"

" The sooner we are off now the better, If Mr. Adderly were here, I think we might proceed immediately."

" Mr. Adderly! does he go with you?"

" I am told that such is his desire,"

" You will find him a brave fellow, worth a dozen Frenchmen, so long as he has nothing to do but to fight. But as to warcraft, sir---why he can no more think of overreaching an enemy, than of cheating a creditor. He will make a daring soldier, but a confounded bad leader."

" He has honour and courage, He has also talents and education of the first-rate kind; and if he disdains low cunning, permit me to say, that it is only what every great leader should do. Foresight, prudence, coolness, fertility of invention, and promptitude of execution, which are the great requisites of a commander, are in no respect akin to fraud and deception. But we will not waste time on this subject, Paddy: is it near ten o'clock?"

" Let us see what this madam says: I just set her by the dial at the garrison to-day. The moon's pretty clear---I can discern it: it appears to be within about ten minutes of ten."

" We must then be off, Let us call Vanbraam, and bid adieu to our friends."

" Damn that scoundrel Jumonville! He'll sacrifice his men to his madness, and give us trouble too. But I'll pop a ball into his cap, to teach him sobriety."

" the French having only two days before received their long-expected supplies from Canada, had already, with a force of nearly a thousand Europeans and as many Indians, commenced their march to meet the British, and could not be more than half a day's journey distant."

" God is my witness, that there is no one here who feels more reluctant to embrace such a measure than I do. My whole heart has become bent on relieving this country from the influence of the French; for while they rule here, I know well that Indian outrages will never cease to afflict our frontiers, and entail upon our back-settlers a precarious and wretched existence. But we must, at present, yield to the imperious mandate of fate. The force of the enemy is overwhelming. In Fort Necessity we may be able to defend ourselves until our friends send us succours, which we have every reason to expect cannot now be long delayed."

" Thus, gentlemen, I have laid before you the real nature of our situation, and the measures which it appears to me the preservation of our troops require us to pursue. I now submit it to your decision, whether to adopt the disagreeable alternative of returning to our fort, which I have recommended, or of pushing forward or remaining where we are, and thereby tempt destruction, either from the hand of the enemy, or the more terrible one of famine."

" Alas, and am I doomed to be cut off from her presence? Is she fated thus to reside within the reach and under the power of an enemy, whose outrageous and ruffian tempers are but too well known? Ah! what troubles and persecutions will she have to suffer, if her enchanting beauties should happen to excite the passions of any of these lawless and unrestrained Frenchmen? Oh, my God! there is distraction, there is frenzy in the idea. Heaven preserve her from such trials!"

" Ah, then, you don't like Frenchmen, don't you?"

" By Jasus! two to one is foul play, my honey--- would you kill the gentleman?---Ah! blood and thunder! is it my master, you thieves? then, to the devil with your damned carcass!"

" Huzza for old Ireland! Now, master, for the other rascal!"

" Not so fast, my brave Peter, he calls for quarter."

" By the holy Bridget! then I'll quarter him in a jiffy,"

" I order you, Peter, to desist and leave this man to me. You see he is disarmed, and defenceless. It would be murder to kill him!"

" Murder to kill a Frenchman! by my sowl that's a new doctrine! But if he was the devil, you may save him if you wish it, my honey! But what will you do with him?"

" I will have you, to throw down that weapon, and catch him by the shoulder or the neck, if you think proper, only don't strangle him, and push him before you to the fort yonder, where we will dispose of him as may be found suitable."

" Think, on the consequence of our being defeated on this occasion. Hordes of merciless savages will be let loose upon your defenceless wives and children, who will riot in their destruction, and will, ere they send their miserable victims to eternity, inflict on them every species of torture they can invent. Oh, I therefore conjure you, my fellow-soldiers, to be steady and strong to-day, and if possible, save your country, and her children, from such calamities."

" Tell Monsieur De Villiers, that he very much mistakes both our situation and our dispositions, if he calculates on our accepting such terms.--- The only terms I shall accept are these,---That we shall be allowed the honours of war, permitted to retain our arms, baggage, and stores of every kind; and also to take our own time to march without molestation back to Virginia.---Rather than capitulate on any other conditions, I shall bury myself and every man who shall adhere to me, amidst the ruins of our Fort. De Villiers need not, therefore, trouble me with any other answer than an acceptance of these terms."

" that young Washington is an obstinate commander, but I see he is a brave one;---and I believe I can make nothing more of him, without considerable slaughter.--- Let him have his terms, therefore, in the name of heaven, so that I may get him out of this part of the country."

" We, the officers of the Virginia regiment, are highly sensible of the particular mark of distinction with which you have honoured us in returning your thanks for our behaviour in the late action; and cannot help testifying our grateful acknowledgments for your of what we shall always esteem a duty to our country and the best of kings."

" Favoured with your regard, we shall zealously endeavour to deserve your applause, and by our future actions strive to convince the worshipful house of burgesses how much we esteem their approbation, and, as it ought to be, regard it as the voice of our country."

" Signed for the whole corps, GEO. WASHINGTON."

" It is with great pleasure that we announce the arrival in our city of that gallant young man, Charles Adderly, who commanded the party sent out in the beginning of last winter, to take possession of the lands belonging to the Ohio Company, in our western wilderness, and upon which the French garrison of Le Boeuf committed the daring outrage which has been often mentioned in our paper in terms of indignation, and which we rejoice that our mother country has at length determined to chastise, in a manner becoming her rank and dignity among the nations."

" Mr. Adderly's friends had been for several months uncertain of his fate, and their joy on being again blessed with the society of one so much valued and beloved, after he had, as many supposed, fallen a victim to savage revenge and cruelty, will not be easily imagined. This gentleman's adventures in the western wilderness, during the last winter, we are informed, have been of the most singular and romantic character. Until the appearance of the gallant Washington in that quarter gave him an opportunity of joining his countrymen, he owed his safety only to concealment in the lonely dells and darksome caverns that abound in that dreary wild. Great, indeed, must have been his sufferings, and miraculous his escapes, during the inclement season he was obliged to seek shelter in such lurking-places."

" We trust that Mr. Adderly, or some of his friends, will one day favour the public with a narrative of his adventures, during his excursions to the west. We are persuaded that there are none but would feel extremely interested in the perusal of such a work."

" Dear regions of silence and shade! Soft scenes of contentment and ease, Where I could have pleasingly stray'd, If aught in his absence could please."

" for, I can see no objection that the parties to this contract can have to perfecting its obligation, since they must, each of them, on the first inspection, be convinced of getting value received. But as it is a kind of business in which I have no experience, being now in my fifty-ninth year, without having ever bargained for a wife, I will leave it to your management, for you must know better what is needful to be done in the premises. Only I wish you to make every reasonable despatch, lest, by keeping the bargain in suspense, Arabella may miss a profitable market."

" There is no danger of that, your niece, you may be assured, will for these ten years to come, be as disposable a commodity as any of her kind in the province. But you may depend on it, Mr. Walworth, that I too anxiously wish her to become my daughter-in-law, to delay its accomplishment any longer than the nature of the transaction will require."

" The greatest favourite I have in the room, and, I believe, the best young lady in the city, is Miss Walworth."

" I have always thought her an uncommonly fine girl, eminently beautiful and accomplished, and mistress of nearly forty thousand pounds in ready money, besides her expectations from the banker. Charles, I shall be glad if you secure this young lady for your partner to-night."

" If she will consent to it, I shall do so; for I really believe her to be a very amiable young woman."

" And don't you think her also handsome?"

" Very much so,"

" Have you ever seen any woman you thought more so?"

" That is rather an embarrassing question, I request time to reflect on an answer."

" Well, Charles, no matter about an answer; I wish to see her your partner to-night, at any rate,"

" If it be in my power, sir, you shall be gratified."

" Perhaps my presence will only spoil the agreeable import of your conversation,"

" If you think so, sir, you know what best becomes you to do. I presume Mr. Morley has more good-breeding than to offer his presence where he imagines it is not wanted."

" I beg pardon, Miss Walworth, it was only my fears of being an intruder that suggested the idea. I hope Captain Adderly does not conceive me one. If he says the word, I shall retire."

" I am perfectly satisfied with your presence, neither do I believe that Miss Walworth feels it disagreeable. You must, indeed, Mr. Morley, be much altered since I knew you, if you have become an unpleasant companion."

" I have no objection to the gentleman's company, but he himself seemed to think that we did not want it. Did you not think so, Mr. Morley? I must have you to speak candidly on the question."

" I really did think then, my fair catechizer, that you might have something of a confidential nature to discuss, which my presence would interrupt: I therefore expressed the idea, so that if it happened to be correct, I might at once relieve you of the interruption; for I assure you, my friends, much as I value your society, I do not wish to enjoy it at the expense of your satisfaction."

" Well, let us drop the discussion, and since Captain Adderly has no objection to your company, and you seem to desire his, I have no right to interfere between you. But, perhaps, gentlemen, you would both feel more comfortable in my absence."

" Oh, Miss Walworth! how can you think so? Surely you do not suppose that my late residence among the Indians has made me such a savage as that?"

" No---far be it from me, to think so. But there are some young fellows who, I believe, have never been five miles out of the bounds of Penn's city, whose manners frequently appear as if they had been altogether bred among savages."

" Miss Walworth, if my inconsiderate expression has offended you, I recant it.--- But no---it was truth---I really perceive that my presence has disagreeably interrupted the enjoyment of more pleasing company."

" Whether I prefer the company of others to yours, or not, has, surely, Mr. Morley, nothing to do with my assertion as to the savages I have seen bred in Philadelphia; for, I assure you, I have seen some in this city so rude, that, although their friends and their fortunes may sometimes gain them admission into good company, I would, for my part, rather see one of the wild Chippeways stalking into my presence."

" You are too severe upon the youth of your native city, who felt for Morley, as he perceived him much mortified; "

" God forbid, the same Paradise that contained an angel, we are told contained also a serpent. But what say you, Mr. Morley, what say you, my friend, would it not be for the advantage of some of our young people, ladies, I believe, as well as gentlemen, to visit the savages to get their city rust rubbed off? Pray, Captain Adderly, what kind of women are those squaws?--- Have you ever seen any of them you thought handsome? But, Mr. Morley, be pleased to be seated, and then Captain Adderly will let us hear of those Indian women."

" Miss Walworth, I am all complaisance to the commands of the fair, One smile from beautiful lips will always remove from my mind the impression of a thousand frowns."

" Ah! you are very good-natured, I know, but, my dear sir, you look so well in the pet, that it would be a pity you should not sometimes fall into it; and then again you are so much improved on your recovery, really it is delightful to see you go through the process of a little ill-humour. But let us bear of the squaws? Do they ever get angry, Captain?"

" Angry! no, no, Miss Walworth, they leave that for their husbands."

" That's right, I wish our pretty white ladies would also do the same. How charming they would be!"

" It would be very unfortunate, sir, especially if all our white men were so difficult to keep in order as you. Captain Adderly, do the savage men ever get angry?"

" Very frequently with each other, but seldom or never, I believe, with their women."

" Thank you, sir, hence at once is seen the reason why the squaws are so good-natured. I'll warrant you, if they had some of our Philadelphia bucks among them, they would soon change their tempers. But you didn't tell me if they are handsome?"

" Ah! Miss Walworth, you must excuse me there. My eyes, I believe, have too much Christian partiality in their vision, to be a proper judge in this matter; and present beauty I have ever felt blind-folding in its qualities."

" I understand you, sir, although it is odd, too, that beauty should have upon you an effect so different from what it has on other people, who generally accuse it of too much brightness. Yonder are some ladies opposite to us, from whose countenances I will undertake to say, that Mr. Morley will acknowledge he sees light issuing; and let him converse but five minutes with any one of them, he will protest that her eyes dart flames. How then, sir, could they blind-fold you?"

" Perhaps by excess of light, Men, you know, have been struck blind by lightning. But yonder is the signal for another set.--- Miss Walworth, have the goodness to honour me---"

" It is a matter, sir, that cannot concern you. I have a right to bestow my affections, yes, and my hand too, upon any person I choose---and if I have preferred Captain Adderly, it has been my own pleasure to do so, and I hope, sir, I am not accountable to you for my preferences or my conduct."

" Ah, here is Charles himself coming!"

" Captain Adderly, that gentleman has just had the impertinence to question me as to the disposal of my heart, and to complain of the preference I have given you, as if I were not my own mistress, and could not bestow my affections upon whom I please. He has, indeed, teazed me this some time past, with his ridiculous addresses, in a manner that I am determined to tolerate no longer."

" I hope he has not insulted you?"

" No, he has not exactly insulted me, his language is of too whining a nature for that. But I wish to God he would, for the future, refrain from annoying me with his importunities. I will here repeat to him, that I shall give my hand to whomsoever I choose---and I will add, that his presence can be at present dispensed with."

" I shall, then, proud fair one, bid you good morning, But I must first state to Captain Adderly, that I have no quarrel with him; and, heaven knows! it is still further from my wishes to have any with you. My only fault has been, in spite of myself, loving you too sincerely; a fault which I shall, if possible, endeavour for the future to correct. But if I should not be able to do so, believe me, I shall not, at any rate, disturb your peace with the man you prefer."

" Oh, my Charles! you know not, although I ought to have told you, how much I have been lately teazed with that young fellow."

" Miss Walworth, what the nature of your intercourse with Mr. Morley has been, you know it is no more my right to inquire than it was his to interrogate you about your intimacy with me. I would be equally culpable with him if I were to do so; and you would be equally entitled to resent my conduct."

" How, Charles! can I understand you? Do you not speak mysteriously? Is it not in my power to prefer you to him, and have I not done so? Has my conduct not all along shown it? Have you not, therefore, privileges on which he had no right to presume?"

" I acknowledge, that you have a right to regulate, according to your own pleasure, the privileges you allow your friends, and I cannot but feel grateful at the superior confidence you seem willing to repose in me, and I can at least make this return for it, that I will not betray it."

" What means this? this cold chilling return! the privilege I allow my friends! Is it Captain Adderly that speaks so!"

" Oh, Charles! surely I have not deserved this from you. You, from whose attentions I have derived so much pleasure---you, to whom I have given up my heart---to whom I have now exposed all my weakness. Alas! have I been deceived by your professions! If so, I am indeed miserable!"

" Be calm, Miss Walworth, Alas! be composed, my dear madam; whatever professions I have made, they may have been mistaken, but I assure you that they never were intended to be so. For the future my conduct shall lead to no mistake. Miss Walworth, I shall leave you now to become tranquillized, and believe me, it shall afford me great pleasure to hear that you have succeeded."

" Oh, Charles! Charles! do not leave me thus, without some assurance that you love me; for, alas! you have raised a doubt."

" How different is this woman from the mild, the modest, the retiring Maria!"

" Excuse me, Miss Walworth, from my soul I pity you, but I can assure you of nothing more at present."

" Then---then--- what means that covenant concerning us, into which your father and my uncle have entered?"

" What covenant?"

" Is it possible that you know not of it?"

" I assure you, upon my honour, I know nothing of it,"

" Ah! then, I am doubly deceived, My uncle spoke of it as a marriage treaty, and I presumed, alas! what errors have I not presumed, that it was your doing."

" Miss Walworth, by heavens! I believe you have indeed been deceived! The innocent, the unmeaning pleasure I took in your company may have led to all these mistakes; but I shall now endeavour to correct them. May heaven forgive me, I really believe I have sinned against you. But I will stay no longer, lest I repeat my fault."

" Sir, appears that you took your flight at the very time you should have attended to make your explanationst o a beautiful young lady, whom, by your pretensions and professions, you have betrayed into the belief that you loved her, and thereby succeeded in making an impression on her heart. Your departure under such circumstances, is looked upon, and I am sorry to say, with an air of great probability, as an intended desertion of this young woman: and the whole city is now crying out shame against you for such perfidious conduct. Have you aught, sir, to say in extenuation of your fault?"

" My father, it grieves me to hear you address me in such language, and it grieves me still more to think that you have been capable of suspecting, may, of accusing me of perfidy to any person. But I have this consolation, amidst the misfortune of your displeasure, to be conscious that the charge on which it is founded, is unjust; and the only thing I can say in extenuation of the fault you mention, is, that it never was intentionally or knowingly committed."

" What say you? Did you never make love to Miss Walworth? answer me, honestly, as you value my favour or my displeasure."

" I will answer you honestly then, my father, I never did."

" You never did! What then meant all your attentions to her, your perpetual running after her company, gallanting with her, flattering her, and complimenting her beauty and numerous excellent qualities, of which it is well ascertained, that you were not sparing?"

" Father, pardon me if I say that you are too well acquainted with the manners of the world, not to know the true value and import of such compliments, as in the thoughtless hours of amusement and gaiety, our sex has been long in the habit of paying to the other, and which the other has long been in the habit of receiving as unmeaningly as they are given. Beyond such common-place compliments, I assure you I have never gone in my intercourse with Miss Walworth; and allow me to justify myself by saying, that in paying her these compliments, I conceived that I had done nothing but what, from the customs of society, her youth and accomplishments entitled her to expect from any man who had any pretensions to good-breeding."

" So, after all it appears, that the amount of your attentions towards her, was mere good-breeding."

" So I consider it,"

" But it seems that both the young lady, and the whole city, consider it otherwise,"

" Both the lady and the city must be mistaken, then, although in consideration of the lady's feelings, I will say so to none but you, to whom, alone, I am anxious to justify myself."

" Certainly you know the meaning of your own conduct best, But, pray, how did it happen that you paid such unusual attention to one to whom you now profess your heart to have been indifferent?"

" Ah, sir, may I remind you, that the intercourse which called for these attentions, was not, at first, of my seeking; and through its whole continuance, it is with extreme reluctance, I say, though it be only to the ear of a father from whom I wish to conceal nothing, that I was more sought after, or else fortuitously thrown into her company, than would many a time have been my choice."

" This statement may be correct, and I am sorry for it, although it pleases me to find that you have yet done nothing to deserve the censure which is gone abroad against you. But, Charles, I had set my heart upon your marrying this young woman. I wish anxiously to see you established in life; and in the whole city, I do not know a match that would be more advantageous to you, nor could I imagine that any could be found more attractive. Her uncle is also desirous to form the connexion, and we had gone so far, on the presumption that no objection could arise on your part, as to arrange the conditions of the marriage articles. The reason of my not communicating this to you, was, that I expected every day to receive an application from you on the subject, which would have been the most natural course of proceeding, and by far the most agreeable to all parties. I am sorry that the proposal must originate, at last, with me; for as matters exist now, I perceive that there is no other expedient left. Your consent is alone wanted, to effect a union which must give great and permanent satisfaction to all concerned, and on which the whole community had lately set their eyes and expectations. What say you, my son, will you consent to marry the richest and most beautiful young lady in the city, whose love for you is now so unequivocally declared, that ever since the day of your supposed desertion, she has not appeared in company, nor, as that letter on the table states, left her bedchamber. But you may peruse it, sir, it is from her uncle, and I hope it will make some impression upon your mind."

" Dear Sir---The progress we have made in the transaction, in which your son and my niece were to be the parties disposed of, had induced me to hope for a speedy and final settlement of the affair; but I am sorry to say, that owing to some misadventure on the part of your son, the bargain is likely to fail on your side. My niece, which was the part of the concern for which I stood engaged, is still substantial and ready for delivery, when the equivalent shall be forthcoming, and the demand made."

" Your son, it appears, after having, by much management, embezzled the esteem or love, or heart, or whatever you women's-men choose to call it, of my niece, has become a defaulter and decamped from the premises, leaving her in a very destitute and forlorn state. She will not leave her own chamber; and as she scarcely makes use of an infant's allowance of nourishment, I fear that her health will give way, if it has not already done so, under the pressure of this unexpected shock."

" As the head and principal manager of the firm from whose deficiency in the stock of proper conduct, our present embarrassments have arisen, I call upon you, as you value the honour and standing of your establishment, as well as the credit and prosperity of ours, to make all exertions to procure the needful, and by promptly acquitting yourselves of your obligations, relieve us out of our present distresses."

" Your due attention to these matters, is earnestly requested at as early a day as you can command."

" I am, with proper consideration, your most obedient servant,"

" Robt. Walworth."

" I am, indeed, sorry that Miss Walworth has taken this matter so much to heart, But I cannot see why so much blame should be attached to either you or me in the affair. For my part, I stand pledged to her for the performance of no engagement whatever; and, my dear father, pardon me, when I make use of an expression, which I apply solely to this banker's interference, I have no notion whatever of being in this manner bullied into a marriage."

" Charles, This letter is addressed to me. Its style may not be exactly what a pupil of Trinity College would consider suited to the subject, but it conveys explicitly enough the meaning of the honest man who wrote it; and is designed only to call upon me, who have pledged myself to forward the intended connexion with all my influence, to exert that influence in procuring your consent to it. Now, Charles, what I have to say on the subject is this: I know that love can never be produced by an exertion of authority, or by the use of threats, and since you have satisfied me that you have not, as is reported, acted meanly towards Miss Walworth, I am not now disposed to use either. But I would recommend you to think seriously, and as a man of feeling, upon the situation of the lady who has evidently become attached to you; and I know so much of the tender passions, that I have more reliance upon your becoming impressed favourably towards her on account of what she feels for you, than from the fear of any threats or displeasure I might exercise to enforce your compliance. I wish you, therefore, my son, not to drop the intercourse you have lately held with her.--- Visit her as before, that you may put a stop to the malicious exultation of those who now feel a triumph in her supposed desertion, and if possible, incline your feelings to think tenderly of her."

" I shall visit her, my father, in obedience to your commands; but I trust that your good sense will not, in the mean time, require any further promise from me."

" Captain Adderly, you have given that coxcomb Morley a triumph over me, which it was ungenerous in you to allow. But that is of no consequence; this triumph I can well bear, nay, I can bear without much agony the scandal of tea-tables, and the contempt of the world, that you have procured me, but I cannot bear your disdain without sinking under it. It is now too late to say that I do not love you, but I will entreat nothing from you. It is kind in you to visit me.--- It may rescue me from the contempt of my enemies; and on your part, it shows compassion, but, alas! what is compassion from you without love?"

" Miss Walworth, I have for some time past, been impressed with the idea that you really believe I feel some aversion towards you. But I assure you, I have no such feeling. I am not blind to your various excellences. I see them, and I esteem and admire them---nay, there is only one of your sex in the world who possesses more of my admiration. Ah! if it were not for her dear image pre occupying all my heart, it might, in all probability, have been long ago yours, for next to her, I am persuaded you are the only woman whom I ever saw, that I might have been brought to love. But after having seen her, it is impossible I can ever love another. Thus, Miss Walworth, you see the esteem I have for you, by the confidence I now repose in you; and you also see the utter impossibility of my having returned you that tenderness and affection with which you have been pleased to honour me. But, believe me, I never for a moment felt disposed to triumph over you on account of your showing me your attachment. Such feelings, I know to be beyond our own control; and because you must be convinced that they are so, I hope you will be the more ready to pardon my seeming indifference for those attractions which the whole world acknowledges, and to which I never was blind."

" I feel, alas! that these feelings are indeed beyond our control. I thank, sincerely thank you, for this confidence. I see now the barrier that separated us, and perceive that it can never be overcome. I shall try, therefore, to struggle with my destiny; and I trust shall yet be able to view you in a light, in which, I believe, you will afford me reciprocity, that of a true and faithful friend."

" Happy, happy shall I be ever to consider you such, and I pray heaven soon to restore you to that health and tranquillity of mind which will promise me the long enjoyment of such a blessing."

" Alas! into what destruction may not the imprudence of your commander plunge you! Ah, what will avail your unrivalled discipline, and your invincible courage, if his headstrong rashness acts as your evil genius, and drives you foolishly, barbarously, and uselessly into some abyss of ruin, where neither courage nor discipline can serve you! And you, my country, of what dreadful consequence would such an event be to you. Your peaceful citizens would then, indeed, feel tenfold the horrors that they have ever yet felt, from the bloody tomahawk, and the scalping-knife of the rapacious and savage foe. And thou, O thou beloved of my heart! thou fairest, purest, dearest object of this visible creation! ah, it may be that thou wilt be the first to suffer! alas, it may be that thou hast already suffered for the friendship of thy family towards me. Or, oh God, it may be that some lawless, licentious Frenchman may have been excited to horrible lust for the possession of thy incomparable charms, and may have made thee the helpless, perhaps the mangled victim of some diabolical deed! Oh God! Oh God! support me under the agony of such an idea!"

" Sons of warriors! bold and brave, Now we haste against the foe, Now like warriors we'll behave, And lay the fell invaders low. We'll lay them mangled in the dust; Their bones shall rot, Upon the spot; Their flesh---what wolves and panthers spare, Shall yield corruption to the air; The arms we bear not off, shall rust, Which when our sons and daughters find, As through the woods they chase the deer; They'll call our valiant deeds to mind, And say--- Sons of warriors! now be strong, Hurry to the glorious strife; Drive the leaden showers along, And fiercely wield the scalping knife! Bold children we of warlike race! Our sharpen'd steel Their hearts shall feel; Our tomahawks shall pierce their brain, Who dare to meet us on the plain, And think us from that land to chase, Which Maneto the mighty, gave, And which our father's ne'er would yield!--- Are we less strong! are we less brave! No! soon we'll prove it on the field! Hark, our murder'd fathers cry--- The execrated enemy! They fiercely come As ours, in former days they wrought, But vengeance now you will afford!"

" My orders are to pursue these fellows, and colonel Washington, I have not been so long a soldier, I hope, without knowing how to lead an army over a ford not more than knee deep, in the face of a stronger opposition than a few Frenchmen, without asking advice from any man. I shall ask your opinion when I think I need it."

" Alas! This is indeed madness---I am afraid we shall pay dear for it. We must do our duty, however."

" I shall obey your directions alone, Colonel, to-day, as I know they will not be inconsistent with my duty."

" Come on, my brave soldiers! we must rescue our companions yonder from impending destruction. If we only give sufficient employment to the savages in any of these ravines, our soldiers may escape. Let us try this eastern one, it appears the more easily assailable. Hark! the French above yonder have fired upon our men already. At it, my boys, and every man do his best either by firing, or by the bayonet, to destroy the savages. Widen your ranks---the less compactly you rush on, the better---Forward!"

" Keep these Indians in play, my brave fellows, for some minutes, and with the blessing of God, I shall soon return to you."

" Follow me rapidly, keep on this side, and shoot every savage you can see as you fly past---but delay for nothing!"

" To the bank of the river now, my brave men!"

" Beloved of heaven! I will not detain you, for I know your errand must be one of haste. Alas, this has been a calamitous day! I saw you escape in safety, and I thank the Great Spirit. My son, Charles Adderly, has not been so fortunate! But to what the Great Being orders, we must submit. Farewell, my son, I will not detain you."

" Father, if thou lovest me, oh, watch over the safety of Maria! alas, she is too beauteous and too tender a flower to be safe amidst the storms of such a desert. Let me know, wherever I may be, if aught befalls her."

" I shall watch over her, and shall let you know if she be unfortunate. I concealed myself here that I might salute, and bless you, as you passed. Farewell, and may the God whom you worship still protect you, as he has done this day!"

" Farewell, father,"

" Ah, Nelly! they are something like Christian soldiers. They put me in min' o' Ireland and Maughrygowan. Oh, may God help them against the savages!"

" Amen,"

" Tell him, my dear Nancy, that I am really indisposed. The horrible scenes of this day have rendered me incapable of seeing any body. Oh, Nancy, Nancy! God only knows how terribly my heart is at this moment torn with suspense and agony!"

" that he was not surprised at her being terrified, and he was very sorry that the affair had taken place so near her; but he hoped that both Miss Frazier, and the whole family, in whose welfare he protested himself to feel greatly interested, would have recovered from their terrors by the time he should next have the pleasure of visiting them."

" Oh, Nancy! although you know the secret of my heart---little, little can you imagine what I this afternoon have suffered. Oh! had they found him there mangled with the rest of these murdered men, I feel that a few days would have terminated my sufferings, and you would have burried me in the same grave with him I loved. Alas! I am not yet altogether relieved of my apprehension; but I will trust---Oh! I will pray, fervently pray, to my God for his preservation."

" Oh, Nancy! if there be comfort on earth for me, that holy man can administer it. Would to heaven, that all Indians had hearts like his! Tell him, my sister, that I wish to see him."

" Oh, father, how I feel relief in your presence, from the torments which this terrible day has inflicted upon my mind. I thank God, that you, at least, have met with no misfortune."

" My daughter, Much, indeed, have I felt for your situation to day; for I knew the agony you would suffer in consequence of these bloody deeds. The youth whom you love was in the midst of them; but be comforted, for he did not fall, neither is he a prisoner in Fort Du Quesne. But I shall before many hours discover the direction that his captors have taken, and the great Spirit, I doubt not, will protect him."

" Daughter, dry your tears! This storm will blow away. A calm will succeed, and sunshine will yet---for the Great Spirit is just---gild your course, and compensate for these afflictions. One noble and glorious youth has this day been miraculously preserved by his care, amidst the thunder that pealed around him, and blasted hundreds by his side. My daughter, Washington is safe, and the Father of the world has shown kindness to men."

" I know it, Father, I have beheld that excellent young man out of reach of the foes, whom, I am told, he alone restrained in their murderous career, and amidst the intensity of my other griefs, I felt consolation at the sight."

" My daughter, I rejoice that you so respect this hero, although you know not half his virtues, half his worth to the world---that world which the Great Being has not forsaken since he has spared him to it; for my daughter, while he lives the cause of mankind may suffer, but need never despair."

" I know, Father, that great public good is likely to result from Colonel Washington's career, if Providence prolongs it. I am sensibly aware of his worth, greatly do I rejoice in his safety, and ardently do I hope for his prosperity. But ah, there are griefs that, at present, come closer to my heart. Charles Adderly--- Oh, Father! is he not in danger, and can I be in comfort!---Alas, alas, I cannot!"

" My daughter, I know your heart, I will not therefore blame your feelings. I sympathize with them. Charles Adderly I esteem, I love---for he is worthy of both. But I despair not of his deliverance from danger. The Great Spirit preserved him once, when in as much peril as now, and he is as mighty to save as ever."

" My daughter, I again ask you to be of good cheer---I must now leave you. I go to discover where they have taken him for whom you grieve. Farewell!"

" Farewell! And oh, may the God of all things grant success to your exertions!"

" Look out of that casement, and behold a feast which gladdens my eyes, I must away to enjoy it."

" Oh, my dear sister! I have been terribly frightened---do not leave me! I beg thee! do not leave me till the morning. I have had a dreadful dream---"

" Be composed---Maria! This is owing to yesterday's alarm! You should not lay these things so much to heart. But I will just inform my husband, who is afraid you have taken sick, that the noise was but the effect of a dream, and shall then return and stay with you till the morning."

" How in the name of heaven! have I been so long ignorant of such a lovely creature residing so near me! Such a jewel in such a Wilderness! But I am a fortunate man to have discovered her at last. I will make her my wife, for it would be worse than villany to pollute so much purity! nor do I suppose it would be so easy a matter, for she appears as modest as she is beautiful. By heavens, I will seriously offer her my hand. She surely cannot refuse to become mistress of Fort Du Quesne; and I shall be happy in the enjoyment of such a treasure! I wish the morning was come, for I will not be content till I know her mind, and till I have made her my own property."

" Miss Frazier, I am really happy to meet you here all alone, in this charming place. I hope you have recovered from your yesterday's fright. I could not be easy, I assure you, without coming to see whether you had thrown it off."

" You are very kind, sir, but I presume you had more important business to bring you here at so early an hour, than merely to inquire after the state of a stranger's mind."

" Upon my honour, Miss Frazier, no other business in the world than just to see, and to converse with you, brought me from fort Du Quesne this morning. Ah! believe me, my charming girl! I think no business in the world half so sweet or so important as enjoying your society. I wish to God I had only known you sooner, we should by this time have understood each other better."

" It might readily enough have been so, for I protest, sir, that I cannot understand you now."

" Ah! my dear Miss Frazier, you may say so, but I cannot believe you---your pretty tell-tale eyes say that you understand well the nature of my visit. How can you mistake it! But I will make it plainer to you. Ever since I first saw you, I have been so fascinated, I could think of nothing else. I feel as if there was nothing else worth thinking of. Even the hurry of the battle yesterday could not drive you for a moment from my thoughts, and as soon as the enemy was driven off, I hastened to see you. Ah, I feel as if I could live by looking upon you!"

" You would derive very little benefit from such diet, and I am afraid that before long you should find it very little to your satisfaction."

" Nay, Miss Frazier, by my soul, these pretty cheeks, those ruby lips, those sparkling eyes---ah! you may banter me, and laugh at me if you choose, but, by heavens, I never saw any thing in the world I loved half so much to gaze upon!"

" Monsieur De Villiers, my heart is too much laden with sorrow at present, to laugh at any thing, otherwise, I believe, that such unmeaning, such frivolous, and pardon me, if I say, such ridiculous nonsense, would provoke my mirth. It is, sir, equally beneath your dignity, and unsuited to the present state of my feelings."

" Ah, my pretty banterer! then I shall speak seriously to you. Your charms have warmed my heart to a sincere, uncontrollable passion. I love you, by heavens I adore you! ah, I have never seen a woman I could love as I do you!"

" Sir, this language seems as mad as what you just now uttered was foolish. Both, I must say, are unworthy of you, and disagreeable to me."

" Pardon me, madam, Can it be unworthy of me to love so much excellence! No---by all that is sacred, I swear, that if I were the grand monarch himself, I should think you worthy to share my throne. I love you, Miss Frazier, with an honourable passion, at which the most sainted purity could not take offence. My hand is free, my fortune respectable, my heart devoted to you. I offer you them all, and shall feel myself the happiest of mortals if you accept of them."

" Sir, I thank you for being so explicit, and candid with me. I will consider you to be serious in these liberal offers, and shall be explicit, candid, and serious in reply to them. Then hear my reply, and set it down on the tablets of your memory, as one which neither your power, nor even that of your grand monarch himself, should he lend you his aid, will ever induce me to alter---I utterly and decisively reject them."

" You do! Then it exactly comes to this issue, my fair tempter, that as I feel I cannot live without you, you must become mine in spite of yourself. But I wish for your voluntary consent; for, upon my honour, I should be very loth to compel you."

" Sir, we may as well drop the conversation. My voluntary assent to your proposals you never can have. In the attempt to pronounce it my tongue would wither in my mouth. With respect to compelling me, you cannot be so irrationally wicked. You cannot be so devoid of good sense as to expect that compulsion will ever produce affection; nay, you must know that the excitement of absolute abhorrence would, it is more than probable, be its consequence."

" Then tell me, fair one, what I am to do! Tell me how I shall obtain thee, thou ensnarer of my senses! for obtain thee I must. Without thee my life will be nothing---worse than nothing---it will be a burthen I will not be able to bear. But, by all my hopes of salvation, thou shalt be mine, if I should---but no, I will not say it, I will not resolve it, for I cannot resolve upon any thing offensive to thee. Oh! consent to my proposals, become my wife, and live happily with a man who adores, who shall for ever adore thee."

" Sir, you have my answer already. It is final, unalterable, and need not be repeated."

" Then, proud girl! either you or I, or perhaps both of us, are doomed to wretchedness. Permit me, at least, to kiss your hand before you drive me off in despair."

" Well, Ranttell!"

" Your servant, sir,"

" I want you on a special service, Lieutenant, which I expect you will manage exactly as you shall be directed."

" To a fraction, if possible."

" There is a lady in the case, Ranttell."

" A pleasant affair, sir, next to shooting the English, and a damned sight better than burning them, as these devils of Indians will have us to do!"

" That's my business, not yours,"

" Your pleasure, sir,"

" A captain's commission, Ranttell, will be yours, my brave fellow, the moment the lady's brought into the fort."

" Snug's the word, a neat job, by St. Dennis! Where is the dove's nest, Monsieur Le Governor?"

" At Turtle Creek, a daughter of the old Irishman,"

" What! not Doctor Killbreath's wife, I hope, but no matter, sweet's the eye upon a pretty girl, whether married or single."

" You mistake, do you think me such a blackguard as to seduce another man's wife?---no---no, Lieutenant, you mistake the matter."

" I beg pardon, but I am glad the Doctor is out of the scrape at any rate, for he cured me of the cholic last spring, when our own bungling surgeon could scarce tell what ailed me. But I suppose it is the pretty rosy-lipped, sweet countenanced lady, the Doctor's sister-in-law, that I saw last winter when out in that quarter on a hunting trip. By the Lord, she's a dainty. Had I been the Doctor, I know which of the two sisters I should have chosen for a help-mate."

" But more persons than one, have a choice, you know, where two are concerned."

" Perfect logic, your honour,"

" Well, sir, you know the lady---I love her to distraction---I wish to marry her---she's an angel, and I would not for the world pollute her. I told her so, but she is rather shy about the matter. I want you to bring her here, as I think I could here persuade her with more effect, than in the woods under her father's wing yonder. You neither need ask her consent, nor that of any of her friends. Take twenty smart fellows with you, enter the house boldly, and bring her off without question. But, take care, Ranttell! offer her no insult, as you would avoid getting a ball through your brains. Remember, she is to be my wife."

" It shall be all done as fairly and politely, as you would ask her to dance a rigadoon, But when shall we set out, Monsieur Le Governor?"

" by my faith, but I made good speed this morning, It is not twelve yet. In half an hour, Ranthell, be off. Give each man a dose of rum before you start, and another when you come in sight of your destination, and I shall expect you back by sundown. Good morning---be polite to the lady, and civil to the family."

" I'll manage it as neat as a new made plume in a grenadier's cap,"

" Good day! my friend Frazier! My best wishes for your family,"

" We thank you, but as my father does not speak French, you will excuse his silence."

" With all my heart, Mrs. Killbreath. But pray, my sweet madam, where are all the rest of your people? I hope our fighting here yesterday, has not frightened them away."

" My brother Paddy, and my husband the doctor, are out hunting since the morning, and I believe we are all present except them and my sister, who is rather indisposed since the alarm she received during yesterday's battle."

" You have stood that affair pretty well, I perceive, Mrs. Killbreath, See how hardy people become when they are married. But is your sister so sick as to permit no visiter, my fair friend? I have a message I wish to deliver to her."

" A message for Maria, Pray, sir, who can it be from?"

" From a most true and hearty friend she has at the garrison,"

" Inform me of it, and I shall communicate it to her, and immediately let you know her answer,"

" I am instructed only to communicate it to herself,"

" I shall tell her so,"

" Excuse me, ladies! excuse me for this unmannerly intrusion. But I must plead the necessity I am under of obeying my commander. My dear madam, I have to inform you of Governor De Villiers's request that you will honour him with your company, this evening, at fort Du Quesne. I have been ordered out with a party of soldiers to escort you there."

" Alas, alas! I see I am undone---Oh! Nancy, Nancy, they are going to take me from you. I might have known it---alas! I might have concealed myself, but I could not think he would have perpetrated such instantaneous violence. Oh, my God, preserve me!"

" What is the meaning of this, lieutenant Ranttell? what do you want with my sister? She cannot have done any thing either to injure or offend the Governor."

" Nor does the Governor, my sweet madam, wish, or intend to do any thing either to injure or offend her. It is pure love, Mrs. Killbreath, that is at the bottom of this affair. But, my fair lady, I am ordered to shew you all possible politeness, and have a horse, as fine an ambler as ever paced over the sod, ready and comfortably caparisoned to carry you to the fort. Pray, now will you permit me to help you on him?"

" Ah, sir, have mercy! Oh! I beseech you, for the love of heaven, do not assist to plunge me into ruin! Heaven will bless you if you let me escape."

" I am but a soldier, madam, and must obey orders you know."

" And oh, sir, would you carry me---me, who never harmed you, to misery, to destruction!"

" There is no danger, madam, of either, I assure you, so long as we have a gun in the fort, and a soldier to fire it, not a soul on earth shall harm a hair of your head. But we must be off, madam, and please let us go in good humour together; for, confound me, if I like to be at variance with a lady."

" What's wrang, Maria, my bairn? I hope the officer wants naething uncivil wi' you?"

" Ah, father, my dear father! I am undone!"

" Sir, there is no use in fretting about the matter. Monsieur De Villiers has taken a fancy to your daughter. He has ordered me to carry her to the fort. He will, I assure you, offer her no harm. On the contrary, he wishes to make her his wife; and will treat her as tenderly as the pupil of his eye!"

" What says he?"

" Wants my dochter into the fort among soldiers! an' withoot her consent too. Get oot of my hoose this precious moment, ye rascal, to come here on sitch an errand, or by the Great God!---may he forgive me for sitch an oath!---I'll turn ye oot by the shoothers."

" My friends, all this is to no purpose. There are twenty brave fellows without yonder who will enforce my commands. So, my sweet madam, you had as good come along without giving us more trouble, or permitting this old gentleman to get into a scrape."

" Alas! since it is so, then God alone can protect me Oh God! oh God!"

" I'll cleave you to the yearth this moment, if you get not oot, an' no vex my bairn in this gate---"

" Now, my fair maiden, the day is our own---let us be going. I am sorry for the scuffle, but it was the curst hot-headedness of that foolish old man that occasioned it. I wished the thing to be done in peace. Mrs. Killbreath here can loosen these ropes as soon as we are gone.---"

" But take care, Mrs. Doctor, and this old dame here, I wish her also to take care not to allow the old dotard, and his hair-brained son to follow us; or, by God! if they do, we shall shoot them!"

" Sir, since such is my fate, keep your hands off me, and I will submit; but before you separate me, perhaps for ever from these beloved beings, my father and mother, permit me to embrace them."

" It is all reasonable, do so with all my heart; only remember I can afford you but little time for the ceremony. And pardon me, Mrs. Doctor, if I interfere in women's concerns, but I see there is one thing you are likely to forget. The lady's stay in the garrison will, perhaps, require some changes of raiment."

" Farewell, my dearest, dearest sister! And oh! may God deliver you from these men."

" Oh! my bairn, my lovely bairn! I canna let you leave me. I will go wi' you. Where'er they pit you, canna be owre bad for me. I will watch owre you, an' comfort ye amang the soldiers."

" My mother, I know not what to do, much could I wish they would permit you to go with me, but I fear it would break your heart to witness my misery."

" Alack! it will break my heart to think of my bairn being in distress, an' me no' wi' her to share it, an' to comfort her."

" Pardon me, ladies! but we have no time now to discuss matters; and as my instructions relate only to one lady, I believe I shall be, at present, so moderate as not to exceed them. So, my good mother, you had better walk within doors, and pacify old crack-brain yonder, who will no doubt pronounce many a solid curse upon us before we reach Du Quesne. But, my sweet fair one! you were the prize I was sent to capture; be so good, therefore, as to come along. Yon gallant steed impatiently champs his bit, as if he longed for his lovely burthen."

" Oh, heavenly God! my bairn! my bairn! my lovely, my innocent bairn, is lost!"

" Heaven's curse upon the fiends! they hae ruined me, an' a' my comforts!---But God forgie me, I should curse nae yen. I leave them to thy hands, oh Lord! Deal wi' them according to thy own pleasure; but oh! have compassion upon this afflicted family. Protect my bairn, an' restore my wife!"

" Oh! Great Spirit and Father of the universe, assist me in the endeavour, and grant success to what thou hast thyself suggested. I depend on thee, on thee alone to protect that suffering maiden and restore her again to her friends."

" My son, show this wampum to the sachem, Takshuma, who is their leader. He will protect you from any injury, and perhaps, give you all the information we require. I should have gone on this errand myself; but, Maria, the child of my heart, is now in distress, and I cannot forsake her."

" My son, my inability to attend to the affairs of Charles Adderly, may, at this crisis, be fatal to him, unless Takshuma grants the petition which, in my name, and upon the testimony of that sacred wampum, I authorize you to deliver to him.---Tell him that Tonnaleuka, the adopted son of the deceased Fallakamsah, formerly chief sachem of the tribe of the Mingoes, and the prophet of Maneto for fifteen tribes, requests Takshuma, sachem of the Caughnewagoes, to grant the English prisoner Charles Adderly, if the Caughnewago counsellors should condemn him to be burned, that which no prophet of Maneto has ever been refused when he asked it for a condemned prisoner---namely, seven days after his condemnation to make his peace with Maneto before he be given to the flames."

" If I had this petition in writing, I should, no doubt, remember it better, and deliver it more correctly to the sachem."

" My son, you shall have it in writing then, for your own use. Only show not the paper to the sachem, for he will either despise you for requiring such as assistant to your memory, or he may look upon it as a forgery of your own, for the chiefs and prophets of our people never use such means of communication with each other."

" Miss Frazier, I am sorry, to my very soul I am sorry, that you should have compelled me to take this step. But I felt that I could not live without you, and I had no alternative. Endeavour to make yourself comfortable in this abode, such as it is, I wish to God it was a palace for your sake."

" Sir,"

" Oh, my dear father and mother, what must you not feel at this moment! heaven support you under this trial."

" Be pacified, my lovely maiden, Your feelings are too tender. You are by far of too timid and apprehensive a disposition. I assure you that you will suffer no evil here, and shall also take care to remove any uneasiness your friends may feel on that account. The urgency of passion, irresistible passion, for you, alone, constrained me to separate you from them. But, believe me, it was not to make either you or them unhappy; and, upon the honour of a soldier, I promise that any thing short of parting with you, I shall submit to, in order to make your residence with me agreeable."

" Alas, then, I need expect no relief from misery, for nothing short of a separation from you, and restoration to my friends, can afford such relief. Oh, restore me to them, and I shall never cease to bless you, I shall never cease to pray for your happiness!"

" What! no---no---you know not how I adore your loveliness, or you would not expect me to part with it so soon. It would be folly indeed, to throw that treasure out of my hand, for which the whole world could not afford me an equivalent. But the whole world, Miss Frazier, cannot now deprive me of you. That blessed consideration makes me ample amends for your present displeasure. Oh, smile upon one who doats on you, and be reconciled to yield to the ardour of his affections, by becoming his wife, and his whole future conduct, he pledges his salvation, shall be regulated so as to make you happy."

" Sir, never---never! You have already had my answer on that subject; an answer which no earthly consideration can ever induce me to change. No, my heart would burst to pieces ere my tongue should utter a promise to be yours."

" Well, my sweet tormentor, you would inflict a pang into my soul, would you, by such a manifestation of hatred for me? But, by heavens! you are beautiful, and so long as I can behold those fascinating features, I shall feel no pangs of any kind! When I shall feel sorrow, I shall fly to you, and gaze upon you. The sight of your charms will quicken me into joy, and to clasp them to my enraptured bosom, will transport me into bliss."

" Maiden! You say you will never promise to be mine. Be it so. I can, if I please, dispense with that promise, and yet be happy. For know, my enchantress, you are at this moment mine to all intents and for all purposes, as completely and absolutely, as if the priest had made you so. It is for your own sake, my fair one, and not for mine, that I wish the forms to be gone through. What say you?---will you consult your own reputation, your own purity, and the satisfaction of your friends, and pronounce the vow which will make me happy without making you wretched."

" Never! never. If I am doomed to wretchedness, no act of my own shall ever be, with my knowledge, accessary to it. If I cannot control the power of others over me, I can, at least, control the meaning of the words that I utter, and never shall I utter any which will entitle you to exercise authority over me."

" Say you so, obstinate, foolish girl? But your obstinacy, or if you prefer the phrase, your firmness on this point, shall be tried. By heavens! if I did not love you too sincerely to seize your charms, and rifle your sweets without ceremony, I would not delay my bliss one hour. But harsh, inconsiderate as you are, your purity and satisfaction of mind, are worth something in my estimation; they are worth at least a few days postponement of my happiness. It shall be, therefore, postponed that it may be the sweeter when it comes; for, by the great God, I swear, it shall come with your own consent, if I should shake your very soul to its centre in order to extort that consent from you! This is my determination, seducing, obdurate girl! I shall now leave you to reflect upon it. But your lovely hand shall first impress rapture upon my lips."

" Oh, would to my God!"

" You are master here, sir, and no doubt, despotically enough disposed to make all such matters bend to your will. My opposition to your taking this liberty, would I am therefore persuaded, be fruitless, and should not relieve me of your presence, let me feel it as disagreeable as I may."

" Then my presence is still disagreeable to you, well, let it be so, since yours affords me delight, by the Holy Virgin! I will enjoy it. But, my fair one, I wish you to join me in this breakfast, for, by my faith, I did not bring you here to starve you."

" Sir, on condition that you avoid the subject so grating to my feelings, I shall partake with you, but on no other."

" Oh! how happy, Miss Frazier, should I be, if you were thus the voluntary and permanent mistress of my table, and myself! Oh, will you not consent to receive the hand of the man who loves you beyond all the world?"

" The reply, sir, that I have so decisively given to that question already, I think might be sufficient to convince you of the inutility of repeating it. That reply was made never to be changed, and it never can be changed!"

" Other methods must then be tried, for by heavens! I must have you for my own, if there be energy in human power to effect it!"

" It is these cursed Indians, that are going to hold a council concerning our English prisoners, a number of whom they are resolved to burn. I have been trying to persuade them from it, but it won't do. They must be gratified; otherwise they'll go off in dudgeon, and I cannot spare them at present, lest the British under Dunbar should think proper to make a trip this way. I must attend their counsel now and save as many lives as I can."

" Oh, for the love of heaven! Monsieur de Villiers, save these unfortunate men. God will bless you for the deed."

" Since it is your wish, my sweet one, I shall do my utmost; but these savages claim so much merit for their fighting the day before yesterday, that I fear I shall make but little of them, especially as they captured these men themselves. So eager, Miss Frazier, are they for burning their prisoners, that I am told a party of them left the field of battle with one or two captives whom they were resolved not to be baffled in sacrificing, and carried them southward, lest, if they had brought them to the garrison, I should have interfered to save them. But I perceive the old Mingo prophet, Tonnaleuka, among them. This promises well, as he is always averse to burning prisoners, and he has more power over them than I have. Between us, I think we sball be able to save some of these Englishmen."

" Oh! I beseech you to save them all, if you can,"

" That is impossible, I have already conceded that they should have at least twelve at their disposal; they claimed this as a reward for their conduct in the late battle, and I could not well refuse them. The present counsel is to determine how many more they shall have, as well as to select the twelve for whom they have already stipulated. If the Mingo prophet assists me, I think, however, we shall be able to save the remainder."

" That prophet is a good man, I know he will assist you, and may heaven also assist you in the benevolent work."

" Amen, Good morning, my sweet girl. I will think of your wishes, and if possible protect these men."

" For he, alas, my unfortunate Charles! He must be in the hands of those inveterate savages who fled with their victims lest the French should rescue them from their barbarity. Ah! my Charles, to what an evil destiny have we both been born!"

" Miss Frazier, I am heartily glad to get rid of these savages, and once more enjoy the delight of your presence. It is like changing the company of fiends for that of an angel."

" Ah! sir, tell me, Has any thing been done for the poor Englishmen? Have you secured their safety?"

" They are all safe, thank God! except the twelve I mentioned to you who have been selected by lot. I exerted myself greatly, since I knew it would please you. They have given up all the others to us as prisoners of war."

" And what---what! is to become of these unfortunate twelve?"

" Why I fear much that the savages will burn them, according to their custom in such cases,"

" And oh, Monsieur de Villiers, is there no way left to save them from such a cruel fate? Have you not force enough, influence enough, to protect them. Oh, think that these men may have tender relatives---fathers, and mothers, wives and children, whose hearts are at this day in agony to ascertain their fate! Oh, think, feel, if thou canst feel for the misery of others, what will be their horror, their distraction, when they hear that those so dear to them have come to such a terrible end. Oh, do something to save them, I conjure, thee if thou wouldst expect salvation thyself!"

" Why, my sweet enchantress, why plead so strongly in behalf of men of whom thou knowest nothing, and who neither know nor care any thing about thee; and yet be so indifferent to the prayers and entreaties of one who adores thee? Why feel and tremble so much at the idea of mere strangers being burned to death by a fire of wood, and show so little compassion for one whose life thou art barbarously consuming in the flames kindled by thy own charms? Ah! why, cruel girl, accuse the savages of barbarity to their victims, who are their enemies, when thou art thyself as barbarous, and hard-hearted to thy own lover---to me, alas! who love you with a passion too violent for me to bear long unrequited and live."

" Sir, it is to no purpose that you talk in this manner. Tell me, tell me, can you do any thing to save these unfortunate men?"

" Tell me first, my angel, can you, will you do any thing to save me from a worse fate?"

" Oh, my God, direct me, merciful Power! what to say--- what to do!---Alas, sir, to what straits would you drive me, say---say---for heaven's sake, can you save these men?"

" If you give me your hand at the altar, as the price of their lives, you shall have them, if I should turn out my garrison to rescue them from the stakes."

" Oh, heavenly Father! to what a situation am I reduced! Alas, sir, I cannot, I cannot---Oh, hear me---I would, ah! I think I would give it to you to save these victims, but alas, it is pledged, irrevocably pledged to another."

" Your hand pledged to another! Your hand pledged to another, and no doubt your heart too--- Miss Frazier, is it not so!"

" Alas, sir. I cannot deny it. But surely, surely, if it be in your power, you will not let these unhappy prisoners die."

" Die! yes---that they must. But---but, perhaps, no, It is---that is, it may be still in your power to save them. You are not married, I hope?"

" No, sir."

" Then, my lovely fair one, these men may yet be safe. Let us make a bargain.---Let your hand be mine, and their lives shall be yours."

" Alas, sir, have I not told you that my hand is already pledged."

" Merely pledged, what signifies that? A mere verbal promise. The wind of the mouth, which, when it passes into the air, is nothing. Miss Frazier, you will surely not place such a trifle, such a nonentity into competition with the lives of twelve human beings. Say the word, my sweetest, tenderest, loveliest of women, utter that which humanity calls upon you to utter, and they are safe."

" Alas, sir!---Oh, what can I do? but it is impossible. I cannot unsay what I have said. I cannot forfeit my truth! No, no, rather than that, let me first die the death allotted to these men!"

" Then these men whom you devote to the flames shall die!"

" Look, hard-hearted girl, at those poor men now under sentence to suffer, within one hour, the most terrible of all deaths, burning at the stake! Look at them on their knees imploring thee to deliver them from a fast approaching and cruel fate. I have told them that their destiny is in thy hands, that if it pleaseth thee, I will defend them from the vengeance of the savages, and procure a reversal of the condemnation that has been passed against them. Wilt thou save them, or wilt thou let them perish?"

" Five minutes, my love, Let five minutes pass without promising to become my wife, and these men shall be ordered away to the stakes and the faggots already prepared for their execution---"

" Oh, barbarous man! have mercy, have mercy! God of heaven, I have killed her!"

" Oh! tell me---they have not surely sent them to the flames! The governor cannot be so barbarous! Let them be saved---let them be saved! Alas! I cannot bear to have them burned!"

" They are, my love, respited until to-morrow at noon, in order that you may have time to deliberate leisurely, and decide upon their fate and mine. And, oh! may I conjure you, Miss Frazier, before that time, to resolve on saying the word, which will save them from destruction, and me from despair! I shall now leave you, that you may enjoy repose. Give your commands to Halmanna, this squaw, and she will supply you with whatever the garrison can afford to make you comfortable."

" Oh, my father, your Maria has at length known misfortune--- she has suffered misery, she has felt despair---Oh, art thou now come, as thou wert ever wont, to administer peace and comfort to my soul?"

" My daughter, I am come for that purpose, and I thank our Great Father, it is in my power."

" My daughter, hear me! my words are comfort, and they are truth. Thou hast this day been greatly imposed upon by the wicked governor of this fortress! The prisoners whom thou sawest, are not condemned to suffer, nor are there any now under such condemnation. Alas! those who were condemned---twelve gallant soldiers, my heart still bleeds for them---were meanly given up by the Governor ere I could interpose in their behalf, and in despite of all my exertions, they were carried across the Alleghany river at noon this day, and committed to the flames. Their sufferings are by this time terminated, and the tribes will, on this occasion, require no more victims."

" Hear me, my daughter. Those who were sentenced to die, returned not back to the fort after leaving it this morning. A band of Ottawas went directly with them to the place of death, and many of my red brothers who did return to the fort, followed immediately after dismissal, to view the sacrifice."

" Hear me farther. As I was amidst the English prisoners, after the Indians had withdrawn, assuring them of their safety, for they understood not the language in which their fate was decided, and therefore knew it not, the Governor came among them. He ordered twelve of them to be separated from the rest. He promised them permission to return to their countrymen under colonel Dunbar, if they would advance into the middle of the fortress-yard, and there kneel, uncovered, before a young lady who should appear at the window of his residence, and obtain in that humble posture, her consent to their enlargement. He informed them, that while making their supplications, they should not speak, as the lady did not understand English; (for his whole scheme was a system of falsehood,) but that he himself should convey to her the purport of their request, and report the lady's answer. He has since informed them that your answer will not be given till to-morrow noon. In the meantime, the men are duped by his artifice to expect liberty which he will not grant, as you have been deceived into the belief that they were petitioning to be rescued from a danger which they neither dreaded, nor have any reason to dread."

" Therefore, my daughter, hear my advice. Persevere in your refusal to become this man's wife. Powerful as he is, the Great Spirit is more powerful than he, and will frustrate all his designs against you, because he loves virtue, and you are virtuous, and because he hates vice, and this man is vicious. Before many days, I trust that the Great Spirit will raise up a deliverer for you, and disappoint the tyrant in his designs."

" My daughter, treasure this my advice in your heart, and fear neither the cunning nor the force of the tempter."

" Father, you have indeed comforted me, You have restored life to my soul. For myself, I now fear nothing, since thou, whose words have never yet deceived me, hast bade me not fear. But, Oh, father! forgive my weakness, when I say I am still wretched, since there is one whom thou knowest to be dear to me, in danger. Alas! I need not name him. Canst thou tell me aught of him?"

" My daughter, I know thy heart is distressed on account of that youth. I have discovered the path his captors have caused him to tread, and hope too, that the Great Spirit will extend to him a share of that mercy with which he is ever ready to aid the virtuous and that he will rescue him whose misfortunes you lament, from the dangers that surround him."

" My daughter, I again recommend you to be of good cheer in all these matters. Inform not the Governor that you know his perfidy. It would only exasperate him, and induce him to have recourse to other stratagems which might involve you in fresh troubles. Require time to deliberate, ere you give an answer to his demands. A little delay may bring you deliverance. But never, never, on any account, answer him according to his wishes. For, my daughter, you know him to be wicked. Uniting your fate with him, would be, therefore, to join in his wickedness. But I need not counsel you thus, since I know that your virtue is firm, and your heart constant."

" Oh, father, thou hast ever been to me the source of wisdom and the inspirer of virtue. Next to my heavenly Preserver, I owe to thee the chief blessings of my life. Whilst thou watchest over my safety, methinks that no evil can befal me. Oh, father, wilt thou watch over that of Charles Adderly? Alas, what would protection be to me if he meets with destruction!"

" My daughter, hear me---all that is in my power to do for that young man, is now doing; and when I say I doubt not of his safety, why should you doubt of it? Why should you tremble, when I say to you, be of good cheer on his account as well as your own? Our great Father, on whom you must never forget to place your principal dependence, will never fail you. He will, as the oracles of your religion say, `make all things work together for the good of those who love him."

" My child, that military parade at which the Governor is now employed, will soon be over. He will then, no doubt, return to you. I must, therefore, withdraw. May the Great Being on whom you depend, protect you, and keep you firm!"

" Thanks to Maneto, she is now free from her fever. But a worse complaint will seize thee, Halmanna, if thou disobeyest my directions."

" Far be it from me, to disobey the prophet of Maneto."

" Then may Maneto bless thee,"

" Miss Frazier, I need scarcely express my happiness at seeing your serenity and contentment so far restored while under my roof, that I think you could in time bring yourself to live comfortably with me. This circumstance affords me some hope that my application for your hand may not be altogether in vain, and that perhaps you have come to the resolution to decide favourably upon the important affair now committed to your award."

" Sir, I have been thinking of that affair; but it is really one of too much importance to be decided without more deliberation than I have yet given it."

" Ah! Miss Frazier! surely you cannot hesitate to interpose a single word between twelve fellow-beings and destruction; and you know the hour speedily approaches, which, without that interposition, shall consign them to their fate."

" Monsieur De Villiers, I have never yet asked a favour from you for myself, and when I first entered these walls I conceived that I never should. I have now changed my mind so far as to make a request, which I hope you will not refuse to grant."

" Ask it! my sweet one, and any thing but parting with you, that is within the compass of my power to grant, I pledge my honour shall not be denied you."

" My request is moderate, altogether within your power to grant. It is only that I may be indulged with a few days longer time to deliberate on this matter; for I feel it impossible to bring my mind to such an instantaneous change of feeling, as to forget the youth to whom I am pledged, and promise to wed another, by the mere effort of only one day's consideration."

" It is perhaps reasonable; it is perhaps natural, that this should be so; and you will never find me, my bewitching girl, inclined to treat you unreasonably. You shall have a few days; but, oh! let them be few---for my heart longs, exceedingly longs, to call you its own!"

" Give me one week, alas! I fear even that will be too short for my purpose!"

" My fairest love! must I postpone my bliss so long? But I will indulge thee. I will show thee by so doing, that I value thy comfort, thy wishes, more than I do my own. I will now hasten to inform the unfortunate Englishmen that they have obtained from thee at least one week's reprieve from their awful sentence: and oh! may they at last obtain from thy humanity their final deliverance! Think not that I am cruel towards them, my fair one. Alas! thou art cruel towards me; and if they be sacrificed, it shall be to thy barbarity---they shall be the victims of my rejected love."

" What can this chief want with me? But he can want nothing but good, since his errand is sanctioned by Tonnaleuka."

" How sorry I am, Miss Frazier, to find you a captive in such a place, and in the hands of such a man!---But I forget---you do not know me in this disguise. Alas! has the form of him who loves you with an ardour beyond whatever man has felt for woman, made so slight an impression upon your mind, that the mere changing of the hue of his countenance can conceal him from your recollection? Must I name to you the man who loves you with a tenderness and a devotedness, which none but himself can ever feel?--- alas, must I name to you---George Washington?"

" Oh, my friend! friend of the oppressed! hero of thy country! how is it that you have ventured upon this dangerous ground? I tremble lest you be discovered. The Indians would have no mercy upon you, and the French who possess this place are scarcely less barbarous."

" To rescue you, my soul's beloved, I did not hesitate to venture here. Ah, where would I not venture for such a purpose! But, fear not, Miss Frazier, I come strong in the confidence of doing a good deed; strong in the confidence that he who has preserved me amidst more eminent dangers, will preserve me through this; or if I should fall doing my duty, and in the attempt to serve thee, thou fairest, most injured of my country's daughters, it shall be a fall so honest, so glorious, that my conscious spirit will in other regions look back upon it as a matter of joy and exultation."

" Ah, sir! was it not rash to risk that life on which, perhaps, the salvation of a nation depends, for the safety of an individual!"

" It is never rash to perform our duty, no matter what may be the risk.--- Thou wert in distress. I was informed of it. That information was a call from heaven to hasten to thy rescue, and I fear not but that heaven will assist me in accomplishing it."

" Yes, I have confidence in your success, although I know not by what means you intend to effect it. But you are the favourite of heaven, and whatever you may undertake I know will succeed. But were you not afar off when I was seized? It is yet but a few days since. By what strange means could you hear it, and by what miracle are you here, in the midst of the terrors of fort Du Quesne so soon, and uninjured?"

" I shall inform you, It was the evening before yesterday. I had just returned from the procession which conveyed General Braddock to his last home, when your brother Paddy entered my tent. He acquainted me in a few words, but they were words that cut me to the heart, that the French had attacked your father's house, and carried you off to Fort Du Quesne, by order of its Governor. Alas, thought I, now indeed is come to pass that which I long feared would be the consequence of so much beauty living so far from the protection of the laws and customs of regular society! But it was no time for retrospection. How to rescue you from your ravishers was the only question. To think of force was vain. The remnant of the Virginians left by the late battle, scarcely exceed a hundred, and Dunbar is commander of the regulars. But even had I possessed an adequate force with which to attack this fortress, to bring that force against it, would not have been the surest way to effect your deliverance. It would have warned the tyrant that he was in danger of losing you, and he would have removed you to some secret place, where perhaps all our diligence could not have found you. Personal exertions were, therefore, the only means I had left, and I resolved to try them. The prophet had desired me to meet him in his cavern, with as little delay as possible, in order to decide upon the measures we should adopt. Before coming to any determination, therefore, I thought proper to hasten there."

" I accordingly informed Colonel Dunbar, who, on account of the harassed and fatigued state of his men, does not intend to leave his present station for several days, of my intended absence; and furnishing Paddy with a horse, he led the way with great rapidity, and we arrived at the prophet's concealment last night. I at once approved of the plan he had formed, and as he had already provided all that we conceived necessary for its execution, we set out from his cavern about two hours since, and thank Providence, have thus far succeeded. The rest remains for the night to accomplish. All that I require of you is, that you will be courageous and firm in the part you will have to act. Tonnaleuka provided a disguise for you as well as for me, and as soon as the people of the garrison have gone to rest, if we can only make our way out of the fort, he will be in waiting at no great distance, with horses ready to carry us to safety. This is the dress you are to assume."

" These, when the proper time arrives, you will throw over your other clothes, and thus concealed, you will act as my interpreter with the sentinel, and solicit his permission for me to pass out of the fort to worship, according to the custom of the Piantia chiefs, beneath a red-oak tree, to which you are to guide me."

" Alas! if the sentinel refuses, we shall be detected, and then---oh, sir, your destruction will be inevitable. It is better not to attempt it---it is, indeed too dangerous. Why should you suffer along with me? Let me bear my own misfortunes alone! It would only double their weight upon my head, if your generosity should involve you in them."

" Fear nothing, dearest Maria! if the sentinel should refuse, I shall have a remedy at hand. We need not now trouble ourselves with the fear of such a difficulty, for I assure you, that if we overcome all others, we shall overcome that also."

" Ah! I perceive, that there are indeed, other difficulties of a perilous nature. The Governor may come and discover you here, and you will be undone."

" He knows me only, as the character I now personate---a chief of the Piantia tribe, come here by order of his nation, to form a treaty of alliance with the French. Tonnaleuka is my interpreter, and the Governor has agreed to give us an audience to-morrow morning after breakfast. In the mean time he has given directions that I shall be entertained in this house with all proper respect. The squaw Halmanna has received her particular instructions from the prophet, which you are aware, she will not be easily induced to disobey."

" As to the governor finding me here: he will, you may be assured, return with too much bustle and noise from the revels, to take me by surprise; and I can easily resume the apartment that has been allotted to me, before he advances to the house. So, on the whole, Miss Frazier, I do not see that I stand in much danger of being detected."

" I trust in God that you will not be detected, and, I believe, the matter is prudently arranged. I shall endeavour to do all in my power to promote its success; for, alas, upon its success alone does my deliverance from a horrible destiny depend."

" No, by heavens! I shall not be guilty of such folly. If I have patience, I shall have her on more easy and agreeable terms. Bewitching being! you have set me mad; you have rendered me wild! by the sorcery of your charms!---Ah, by heavens, you know not the sacrifice I make in delaying my bliss!"

" Hell and fiends! If I must bear this torment longer, it cannot be in the overpowering presence of her beauties!"

" Miss Frazier, thank heaven, the moment is favourable. Haste, lovely maiden, throw on your disguise. Be of good courage, and let us proceed from this abode of wickedness and brutality---God will open the way for us."

" Hallo! who comes there?"

" You are my interpreter, remember, as I do not speak French."

" We are friends,"

" And where are you going, my friends, at this hour? Why does your comrade remain dumb, mistress?"

" This is the Indian chief, that came here to-day with the Mingo prophet. He cannot speak your language, and on that account requested me to solicit your permission for him to pass out to worship the Great Spirit beneath the branches of the red oak, as all the chiefs of his nation have been accustomed to do at this hour of the night, twice every moon, once in the full, and once in the wane."

" And pray, Mrs. Squaw, what is your business with this chief? Let him go and worship till he rots, if he pleases; but for you, my dame, I would advise you rather to go to sleep. He can worship devoutly enough without your help, I dare say. Turn back, mistress, if you please."

" Ah, sir, my good soldier! I must indeed go with this chief. He is a stranger, and does not know where to find a red oak tree---I must guide him."

" Let him take the first tree he meets, it will answer the same purpose, whether it be oak or hiccory. But as for you, dame square-toes, I say you shall not pass here to-night. No, by St. Peter! I shan't risk disobeying orders so far."

" Sir, Sir, this chief declares that he will not go without me. Oh! pray, do now, my good friend, permit us both to pass, and heaven will bless you!"

" Heh! who are you? I protest you seem somewhat too christianized for a squaw. By the holy mother! but I believe there is something wrong in this affair. The Governor has a lady in keeping. I think I must keep you both within the walls, till we see who you are. I'll be broiled, if it would not cost me a bullet in my heart, if I allowed that lady to escape. Back to your quarters this moment, or by the devil! I shall call the guard."

" Alas! we are discovered, we are ruined! Ah me! he threatens to call the guard upon us!"

" Ah! Colonel Washington, to you I owe more, more obligation and gratitude than I can express."

" Miss Frazier, to the Almighty I owe thanks that he has made me the humble instrument of preserving the loveliest of his creatures from wretchedness. I owe these thanks for this never-to-be-forgotten blessing, even on my own account; for, alas! had that son of barbarity succeeded in his designs against you---never, never from that day should I have known comfort in this world. Miss Frazier, I have told you often with what ardour and sincerity I love you, how much my happiness in life depends upon a union with you; and although you have not thought proper to encourage my passion, by affording me one single whisper in its approval, yet I have persisted to love you, and even to look forward with a fond hope to the day when you might be brought to afford me some return of affection, and perhaps receive me as the happy partner of your fate."

" Ah, think, beloved of my soul! how much your present situation requires a protector---how absolutely it is necessary that you should leave this lawless Wilderness, where men of untamed and licentious passions rule every thing according to their wicked fancies and caprices, unrestrained by either the laws or the opinions of civilized society. For your own sake,---for you are now become the mark against whom the violence of their ruffian passions will be directed---for the sake of that angelic purity which is here exposed to the attacks of fiends---for the sake of your own happiness, the ruin of which is pursued with barbarous avidity by the tyrant of these wilds,---fly with me to the protection of society and laws. Give me---me, who will otherwise never enjoy this world with satisfaction, the right to become your protector, and to secure you an asylum where none will dare to molest you, and where the friends you love may also live in security and comfort."

" My brave, my generous protector! how can I answer you! Would to God that I could recompense your kindness, that I could show my gratitude, that I could prove to you how much I esteem your virtues, and admire your nobleness and heroism of character, by any other means than that which you ask! But, alas, my most valued, my most admired friend, you ask what it is not in my power to give---what is not mine to give yes; I will intrust thee with the secret of my heart. I owe thee this---ah, what do I not owe thee!---but my confidence thou shalt have. Perhaps I have withheld it too long, and thereby encouraged thee to entertain hopes which, sorry, sorry am I to say, must end in disappointment--- my heart, sir, is another's."

" Another's!"

" I am to blame, sir, for not revealing this to you sooner; but, alas, I was too timid, or rather I was ungenerous enough to fear the effects of a rivalship between you and the youth who had gained my affections before I saw you, for, believe me, that, even when you first sought my heart, it was not mine to give you."

" Then, Maria, I know my fate---it is to linger out a life in this world, as long as Providence may please to continue it here, without seeking, without hoping, without caring for personal happiness. But I am resigned. It is the will of Providence. My soul, I know, shall never sink under any calamity, since it does not now sink under this, which is the severest I can ever experience. But, Miss Frazier, although I can submit without murmuring either at you, or at Providence, to this forlornness of my own fate; although I can submit to part with those blissful hopes which for more than eighteen months have formed the great solace of my life, the hopes of you and happiness---yet your welfare, believe me, is as great an object of solicitude with me as ever. I therefore again repeat an offer I once before made to you, that you, and all your friends---and it must be remembered that from this date your friends will be no longer safe in this neighbourhood---should remove to Virginia, where I shall engage to settle them in comfort, safety, and respectability."

" Your petition has been granted, father; but it only prolongs Captain Adderly's life till Monday at noon."

" Alas, what of Captain Adderly! where is he? oh, tell me---tell me! for heaven's sake what is to become of my Charles!"

" At the prophet's request, he has been respited from the flames till Monday; but then I fear that his death will be inevitable. The Indians, with great reluctance, granted him this reprieve. The faggots are already---"

" Thank my God! thank my God, she will yet live!"

" Thank thee, thank thee, oh, Great Spirit of the universe! Oh, thou who restorest this suffering child to us, do thou support her under the trials thou hast brought upon her! If the youth of her choice must die this awful death, do thou enable her to bear the shock."

" Charles Adderly! Oh, the savages! they have consumed my love! Take me! take me! burn me with him! Ah, I feel myself in flames! my heart is already burning! I am glad of it! Charles, my beloved, our sorrows will soon end!"

" Captain Adderly, alas, it is so; she loves him. Her happiness depends upon his welfare. Happy Adderly! at least thou hast been happy, for thou hast been loved by such a being. Oh, Maria, Maria! how I could have cherished thee in my bosom! But though thou art never to be mine, mayest thou be happy!"

" I must leave you hastily, Miss Frazier, I am glad to see that you are recovering. Support your trials with fortitude, and may the God of heaven yet restore you to happiness. Farewell; my duty now calls me elsewhere."

" Farewell, generous, benevolent Washington! Farewell, noble-hearted young man! I never shall forget thy kindness."

" Alas! she---pure, harmless, lovely, helpless and defenceless, might also be in the hands, and subjected to the insults and tortures of the merciless savages, who would now be let loose in all their wantonness of barbarity, to wreck their vengeance upon every individual of British origin that should come within their power! And she---he groaned deeply as the idea passed through his mind---and she, alas, was immediately within their power, the power of fiends, (he mentally exclaimed,) who will neither regard her sex, nor her youth, nor her innocence, nor her loveliness! ah, my Maria! What can thy Charles do for thee? in bonds here himself, and in wretchedness---Oh, if I could bear thy misfortunes and my own together, how should I rejoice! Oh heaven! wilt thou not protect her whose purity is so like thy own? But why do I rave; perhaps, thou dost protect her---perhaps, even amidst these disastrous times, she is safe---oh! to obtain that assurance, how boldly would I face, how gladly would I endure the fiercest torments the savages can inflict upon me!"

" Brothers---thank Maneto! We have inflicted a sweet and glorious revenge upon the oppressors of our fathers. These oppressors are proud---they think to grasp the whole earth.--- They robbed and murdered our fathers, and took more land from them than they can use. That land they unjustly hold to this day; yet they are not satisfied. They thought to rob us too, Caughnewagoes! They thought that we had hearts like the timid deer, and that they had no more to do than to shew their faces, and we should fly."

" Brothers---they say that the mere treading upon our ground makes it theirs, and they think that wherever we see the prints of their fect we should abandon the country."

" Brothers---they came against us with many men, strongly armed, and we were few; but the Great Spirit taught us how to conquer them. I do not think that they will soon again be so foolish as to disturb us, for they have been taught a lesson."

" Brothers---we lost some of our people by their steel. Hillsamash, who had fought thirty battles, and taken three hundred and fifteen scalps from our enemies, has been slain. That man before you slew him. I saw him with my eyes. They grew dim. The sparkles of horror flashed before them as the horrid steel ran through the body of my friend."

" Brothers---he is gone to Maneto. But we must avenge his death. Are ye for kindling the flames?"

" Listen, brothers, to the desire of Tonnaleuka, the holy prophet of Maneto. The prisoner Adderly is not prepared to die. In sacrificing him, it is only the body, not the spirit, we wish to punish. Maneto will be offended if we deprive him of this man's soul, which is not now fit to go into his presence."

" Brothers, Tonnaleuka, the great prophet, who declares the will of Maneto, asks the quarter of a moon of longer life for this man, that his spirit may, in that time, prepare itself for the company of the Great Father who made it."

" Brothers, I think we dare not refuse this to the words of the prophet, for the prophet's words are the words of Maneto."

" Brothers, I respect the prophet, because I worship and adore Maneto. I will therefore join my assent with yours to allow the destroyer of my brother seven days longer to breathe the air and to see the sun."

" But, brothers, hear me; I grieve much for Hillsamash, and long exceedingly to feast my eyes with the sacrifice of the man who slew him. Is it not natural? He was a brother who reflected honour upon our parentage. I could shed tears for him, but I am resolved never to shed tears for any thing. That prisoner deprived me of him, and my heart shall not feel at ease till I see his destruction. The grief of my soul shall disappear and waste away, as the flames waste the flesh from the bones of that man; but not till then."

" Brothers, I shall not oppose the desire of Tonnaleuka; but lest my indignation against the destroyer of Hillsamash should not permit me to bear to see him live the time requested by the prophet, I shall go westward to hunt, but shall return on the day of sacrifice to delight my soul with beholding the torments of the victim."

" The prophet would have come himself after you, and would perhaps have rescued you altogether, but for a very unfortunate occurrence which took place at our house yesterday, and which will require all his attention for a few days. If he can get off from that business before your reprieve is expired, I think he will yet save you."

" What, sir, has taken place at your house?"

" Why, sir, I think I may as well tell you the whole matter; your heart is stout enough to hear bad news, I hope, although I know it will try you a little. In short, captain, the commander at Du Quesne sent out a party of troops, who attacked our house, bound the old man and Archy with ropes, (Paddy and I were from home) frightened the old woman and Nancy out of their wits, and carried off---Maria, with whom---"

" Maria! carried off to Du Quesne! Alas!---Oh, doctor, I could curse, eternally curse the villains! But what,---oh, in the name of heaven, what can I do for her?"

" Nothing, sir, but there are hands at work for her rescue more powerful than yours can be. I trust they will be successful."

" Oh heaven grant that they may! but,---ah, these bonds restrain me. Oh God! why am I thus, when my heart's treasure is in distress? Oh heaven, is there to be no end to my misfortunes!"

" Be calm, captain, had I known you would have felt this matter so violently, I should not have informed you of it."

" Talk not to me of feeling violently! Great God! what in heaven or earth could make me feel violently if this could not! Oh God! Oh God! that I could act violently too! then these hell-hounds of Du Quesne should soon learn what it is to molest innocence and loveliness like hers. Talk not to me of feeling violently: those who cannot feel as I do, have never loved as I do. Ah, no! never one loved as I do. Oh, Lord of mercy! save her, save her, and let me perish!"

" Hear me, brother, I thought not that the white men loved each other so well. This man bears his own fate without complaining; but he rages, even to madness, when he hears of a friend being in distress--- and distress which cannot be more fearful than his own. Are there many of your people of this temper?"

" Many among us feel much for the distresses of their friends, but there are few, I believe, who carry their feelings to such excess as Captain Adderly does on this occasion."

" I honour him for it, and shall take care that he be not tortured as the friends of Hillsamash desire he should, before his death. He must be sacrificed, for he has slain a warrior, and is sentenced; but we need not torture him. Neither the red-hot iron, nor the burning brand shall be lifted against him."

" I go before you, to the awful doom. But this is, perhaps, a privilege as my sufferings will be the sooner ended. I am not afraid to die; but the manner is terrible. Would to God that these barbarians would send a bullet through my heart; they might then consume my dead carcass as they please. But I must submit to the tortures, though my soul shudders within me, yet I will brave it out."

" Farewell, Bartley, Your fate is, indeed, preferable to mine. Seven days less of such mental torment as I shall endure is no trifling consideration. May God take you to himself!"

" You are a stranger to me, sir, but you are a Christian and a Briton, and your countenance bespeaks humanity. I think, therefore, that you will not refuse to grant an easily performed request to a dying man."

" If in my power, I will assuredly grant it,"

" You carry a rifle,"

" Yes, sir,"

" It is charged I suppose,"

" It is, sir,"

" My heart would be thankful for its contents ere these savages commence torturing me,"

" You shall have them,"

" May heaven bless you, Farewell! I hope we shall yet meet in heaven;"

" Brothers, be cautious in this matter. This man is the messenger of Tonnaleuka. He has, it is true, defrauded you of your just vengeance against a prisoner, and dared, profanely, to interfere with the customs of your fathers. I will not excuse him---but he bears the holy wampum of Tonnaleuka, and we should dread the displeasure of the prophet."

" Brothers---Tonnaleuka himself will condemn his action. Let us detain him prisoner until we inform the prophet of it. Whatever punishment he may award, we shall inflict. The prophet knows best how such an outrage should be punished; or he will consult Maneto on the subject, and instruct us how to act."

" Ah, is it thou, matchless Washington, that hast restored me to life?"

" It is, my friend, and I shall do more, I shall restore you to happiness."

" Ah, knowest thou, wonderful man, knowest thou what can make me happy?"

" I do know, If any thing on earth can make thee happy, it is the heart and the hand of the loveliest, purest, and most endearing woman in the creation---Maria Frazier!"

" Angel of mercy! Where--- where is she? Is she still in safety?"

" Thank God, she is safe from all present danger. You are now safe also; and may you both long continue so."

" And it is to you, Colonel, that they both owe it, I wish you---from my soul, Captain, I wish you joy, of both your life and your love. You may thank Colonel Washington for both. He plunged into the heart of Fort Du Quesne, and rescued, singly and alone, my wretched sister-in-law out of the midst of the Governor's house as safe and unhurt as she entered it.---But with your leave, gentlemen, what if we search these deserted wigwams, (for I perceived the squaws running off, as we approached, as fast as their yoke-fellows,) for something to eat; for after our long rapid ride, I confess I should think a slice of venison an excellent dainty."

" I propose, first, that we find some clothing for Captain Adderly; and then we shall think of what is best to be done for refreshing our frames."

" My portmanteau, will furnish him a suit of as good captain's uniform as there is in the army. I knew the Captain would be naked; and while you were assembling the men at the Great Meadows, I provided the dress."

" She shall not be disturbed from her repose, All I want is to enjoy the happiness of feeling myself in the same habitation with her till the morning."

" You will, at least, if you persist in gratifying this piece of useless impatience, disturb Tonnaleuka's repose, a matter which I am sure would give you no pleasure; and, then consider, that as the prophet may not have accommodations for you in his subterranean abode, you might be obliged to sit moping and dozing by the fireside, either breaking your heart or dreaming nonsense, till a reasonable time in the morning should afford you the wished-for happiness. No, you have, just now, my friend, too much need for the refreshment of a few hours comfortable rest yourself after what you have undergone, for me to permit you to take this whimsical step."

" Well! do as you please with me, You are not so hot brained as I am; and, as you do not feel so acutely in this matter, you can judge more cooly, and, no doubt, more correctly."

" Alas! he knows not how acutely, how severely I feel in this matter."

" My child, I have a presentiment that there is good news approaching us,"

" Heaven grant it! But, alas, I am so accustomed to hear of nothing but disasters, that---Oh, God of goodness, is it so!"

" My dearest Maria! My dearest love! have we met---have we, at length, met!---oh never, never again, while we live, shall we part!"

" Oh Charles! it is you, indeed, whom I again behold. Thanks to a merciful God, you are yet living! By what miracle has he preserved you from your awful doom? Oh, are you not yet in danger?"

" No, my dearest love, I am in no danger; but that thou art safe---that I find thee here---that I thus clasp my treasure to my heart thanks! glory to the God who has thought of us in mercy! who has rescued us out of distress unspeakable; who has brought us together in a manner, indeed, miraculous; by means of an exertion of such a combination of wisdom, courage, benevolence, promptitude and energy of action, which no earthly being but one possesses!"

" Ah! I see it; I might have known it! It is he, it is he! Nothing that man can do is difficult for him. My deliverer is thine. Oh, Washington, Washington!"

" Thanks, thanks, thou incomparable man! What can I say to express the weight of our obligations to thee?"

" Miss Frazier, spare your thanks. The witnessing of your joy on the present occasion is an ample recompense for my exertions. But let me say that it will recompense me still more amply to witness the confirmation of your permanent felicity. Captain Adderly, give me your hand."

" The struggle is now over, and I am what I should be. My friend, that lady by your side I have loved, as I shall never love another. But you possessed her heart, before she possessed mine. You are become necessary to her happiness---her happiness, in competition with which I value my own as nothing; and I know well that she is necessary to yours. Take her, my friend; make her your own; and oh may you be long happy together!"

" My best of friends! You---you alone could be capable of this. I shall not attempt to express my gratitude. It would be in vain. But a heart like yours can easily imagine it.---Ah, then you loved my Maria. I once for a moment suspected it. But I was secure in her fidelity, and cast the suspicion from my soul as injurious towards her. Highly, highly can I estimate the sacrifice which, on her account and mine, you now make of those heavenly hopes which must have accompanied a love for her; and highly should I appreciate myself if I could imitate thee in the magnanimous self-denial of sacrificing such hopes at the shrine of friendship and duty. But, alas, I feel that I am not capable of such virtue. Oh Maria, your Charles acknowledges his inferiority to that man!"

" And well may you without a blush acknowledged it, For ah, who can compare with him in virtue? oh, what do we not owe him!"

" My children! this scene, indeed, affects me. I knew Colonel Washington capable of much, but I scarcely thought him capable of this; for I knew the fervour of his love for that maiden, and I know with what adamantine bonds, (said he with unusual energy) love, like his, binds the human heart."

" My children, I cannot speak my joy at this happy meeting---Oh may the Great Father who raised up this heroic deliverer for you, make you long the objects of his care in this life, and in that of immortality, the inheritors of his eternal love!"

" Miss Frazier, there is yet one thing remaining to set my mind at ease respecting you, that is, your removal from this desert, where you are now beset with perils, imminent, innumerable, and terrifying. I entreat you to leave it with the man of your choice. Give him a legal right to protect you in the midst of society. I shall then be assured of your safety, and become, if not happy, at least resigned, and perhaps, content with my lot."

" Sir, Captain Adderly is aware of my only objection to the wishes he has often expressed on this subject. This objection still remains. If it were removed---but of that I see, at present, no probability---I will not affect to say, that I should advance any other."

" Oh Maria, my dearest love! Do overlook that objection under present circumstances. It is one which, under any circumstances, ought not to intervene between a union of hearts like ours. It is of too trifling a nature, surely, to be put in the balance against your safety and my happiness. Believe me, my love, my father is not of such a mercenary mind as you imagine. He will place no importance upon gold, in comparison to the permanent happiness of his son. He has both too much liberality as a man, and too much tenderness as a father, for that."

" But his consent, at all events, should be first procured, You are his only son; he has no doubt been an indulgent father; and it would be giving him real ground for offence, if you should take such an important, irretrievable step without his approbation, nay, without his knowledge."

" Miss Frazier, these sentiments become you; they are just such as I should expect from your acute delicacy of feeling, and strong sense of propriety. But I am glad that there are no other obstacles in the way. These shall vanish. I shall contribute to remove them. You know me too well not to suppose that I shall be the obliged party if you accept the offer I am about to make. It has pleased providence to bestow upon me a fortune amounting to even more than affluence. A portion of this I can easily, and shall gladly, devote to the promotion of a purpose so dear to my heart as your safety and welfare; and must beg leave to make over to you deeds of such a property as shall reconcile your future father-in-law to your alliance with his family. I trust---"

" Ah! Hear me---Where will your generosity, your kindness for this young woman have an end?"

" Hear me, permit me to speak. You have plunged into the midst of her enemies, and snatched her from ruin. You have relinquished in favour of a rival the most fondly cherished wishes of your soul, to promote her happiness, and now you would bestow fortune upon her."

" But, hear me, glorious young man! and believe me, she requires not this last instance of your generosity. She is rich---as rich, even in worldly goods, as the father of any man whom she may make her husband, should wish her to be. She is my hieress. She is my daughter! my only, only child! Oh, Maria, Maria! I am no Indian--- I am a son of Europe. Oh, embrace me, I am thy father!"

" My father! My father, and have I really such a father--- am I not indeed an orphan? But I long felt it, although I knew it not. I never felt forlorn in thy presence. Oh, gracious God! thou art kind. This, indeed, this crowns the mighty blessings thou hast this day conferred upon me. Oh, my father, my father! I feel thou art indeed my father. Why did I not know my happiness sooner?"

" Daughter of my love! in your infancy I saw you happy and safe, and I was content. In the latter years, you were also, until within these few days, as serene and comfortable as perhaps the state of womanhood will permit. I would not, therefore, disturb this serenity of your bosom for no purpose, and I saw none that could be answered by doing so. I had acquired an influence over the inhabitants of these wilds by my assumption of their manners, and of the character of a prophet among them, which had been often useful to themselves, and which I believed might on some emergency be useful to you and to your friends. I wished, therefore, to maintain this character undiscovered and impenetrable to all the world, so long as it might be attended with such benefits. I perceive that you, and they, and I, must now, all of us, leave the Wilderness, from whence that repose, and safety which once blest it, is fled. We must mix in the ranks of society, my daughter. The scene will be new to you, and it may for a while be irksome. But it will afford you safety, and an opportunity of performing duties, and consequently of being useful to both yourself and others, which cannot here be found."

" But, my friends, I perceive that you are surprised at this discovery, and, no doubt, feel a curiosity, since you find I am not an Indian, to know what I really am. I shall at present give you but a brief sketch of my history. At a more convenient season, I may, perhaps, enter more minutely into its details."

" I am, by birth a Scotchman, and a Highlander. My European name is Mackintosh, a name to which my zeal for an unfortunate cause has given a place in the history of Britain. At the death of Queen Anne, it is well known that the friends of the house of Stuart, among the most zealous of whom I ranked myself, for I was then young, enthusiastic, and rash, resolved to attempt the re-establishment of its exiled representative upon the throne of his ancestors."

" The Earl of Mar was the first to raise the standard of insurrection in the Highlands, and I was the first to join him with the whole strength of my clan, consisting of nearly a thousand of as brave men as ever wore tartan. We soon heard that Mr. Forster, the Earl of Derwentwater, and some others had raised forces in England to support the same cause, and were on their way to join us in the Lowlands of Scotland. I was detached at the head of twenty-five hundred men to meet them in the Lothians. The Frith of Forth had to be crossed in the face of a strong naval force, aware of our design. By various manoeuvres, however, we drew off the attention of the ships from the place of our embarkation, and, during the night, arrived safe on the southern shore. I immediately invested Leith, which surrendered; but the Duke of Argyle hastily throwing himself into Edinburgh with a large body of troops, I was deprived of the capital. I proceeded, therefore, without delay, to join our English confederates, who waited for us at Kelso some distance southward."

" Being now nearly six thousand strong, we resolved to push boldly into England, in order to encourage our adherents there, and strike some sudden blow against the Hanoverian government."

" Fortune smiled kindly enough upon us until we reached Preston, where she ceased for ever to encourage our cause. General Willis there besieged us with a formidable army. We were compelled to surrender, and I, together with all our leaders, was carried to London, and imprisoned in Newgate. About the same time, the Earl of Mar was defeated in the Highlands, and the friends of the Stuarts gave up the contest."

" They paid dear for it, however. Almost every week brought into my prison intelligence of the execution of some of my confederates, few of whom, after condemnation, received mercy. I who had been much more active than many who had suffered, had therefore no reason to expect any. For several months there was no word of my trial. At length I was desired to prepare for it, as it should take place in a few days. Several of my fellow-prisoners, also under the charge of high treason, were to be tried at the same time. The evening previous to the sitting of the court, I engaged five of these to assist me in an attempt to escape. We soon mastered the jailer and his assistants, and in a moment dispersed ourselves in different directions amidst the crowds of London. Less than a week afterwards found me at the court of St. Germain's, the titular sovereign of which received me with great respect and cordiality."

" My Scottish property was now lost to me by an act of attainder, and I was declared an outlaw. I was soon in beggary, but the interest of the Stuarts was sufficient to procure me a captain's commission in the French army. In a few years I was sent as lieutenant-colonel of a regiment to Canada. My superior, disliking the climate, soon returned to Europe, and I was made colonel. In this capacity I was stationed for a number of years at a fort near the falls of Niagara. Here I had an opportunity of becoming thoroughly acquainted with the manners and customs of the Indians, as well as many of their languages; and also of greatly improving my fortune, by purchasing their furs, and transmitting them for sale to Quebec, where I had formed connexions with mercantile houses for that purpose."

" I had never yet thought of entering upon the marriage state; for, although I had not been indifferent to the sweets of female society, yet, perhaps the sense of my misfortunes and unsettled condition of life, had prevented any woman from making a serious impression upon my heart. But I was now doomed to behold one to whose graces, accomplishments, and virtues, I felt delighted to pay homage. It was during a visit I paid to Quebec on pecuniary concerns, that I first beheld her. She was the daughter of Monsieur d'Anville, commander of the Quebec garrison, and only a few years from France. I became entirely captivated with her charms, and although I was then thirty-seven years of age, and she but twentytwo, and although she had refused the hands of numerous suitors, I had the happiness to gain an interest in her heart. Her father at first made some difficulty about consenting to our union. He was rich and noble; but I was so too, and he at length yielded."

" We were somewhat more than a year married, when by Monsieur d'Anville's interest I was appointed to command the garrison at New-Orleans. In proceeding there, I was instructed to descend the Ohio river, to take notes of the most eligible situations for a chain of forts which the French government then contemplated erecting, so as to secure the possession of the whole country from the St. Lawrence to the Gulf of Mexico."

" I set out with my wife, who was attended by one female servant, in the autumn of 1734. We were accompanied by six officers, who had also received appointments at New-Orleans. We advanced on our journey, receiving assurances of friendship from the different tribes on our route, and without meeting with any accident, until we reached the mouth of French Creek, when unfortunately our servant girl died, and my wife was left without any female attendant. We felt this accident the more acutely, as Maria, which was my wife's name, was then far advanced in pregnancy, and there was no possibility of replacing our deceased servant with another from Canada previous to the time her confinement was expected. In this dilemma we heard of an Indian queen residing on the bank of the Monongahela, not far from our intended route, whose society, it was thought, would be the most suitable the country could afford to my wife under present circumstances. We accordingly hastened there, and Alliquippa received us with great friendship and kindness."

" Maria, however, still felt so uncomfortable at the prospect before her, with only savage women to attend her, that it was with great joy we were informed of some white women being in the vici dian language, when I spoke in any other, they conceived that there was something supernatural about me, and began to reverence me in my insanity, as a person under the effects of prophetic inspiration."

" As this opinion of these savages had probably saved my life, I believed it best when I recovered, not to undeceive them. I rather took some pains to confirm them in it. At length my desire to inquire after my child became so strong, that I privately left the Iroquois with that intention. I had proceeded eastward as far as the Scioto river, when a party of the Mingoes seized me. I, however, understood their language, customs, and opinions too well, to feel much alarmed. The delay in my enquiry after my child, that the accident would occasion, grieved me most. My appearance, both as to complexion and dress, was altogether Indian, for I had, in order to avoid danger on my journey, used their dyes in colouring my skin. I also had resolved to avail myself of the hint which the credulity of the Iroquois had given me, if I should fall in with any of the tribes, to pass upon them as a prophet. I therefore represented myself to the Mingoes as origiginally belonging to a remote nation of Canadian Indians, and as frequently having had visions by which I was instructed to go towards the Ohio in order to teach the tribes in that quarter the will of the Great Father."

" It happened that these Mingoes, had, at that time, some prisoners whom they had taken from the Ottawas in a battle, and concerning whom they were the next day to hold a council, which they invited me to attend. I immediately determined to try what I could do to save these prisoners, by working on the belief which their conquerors seemed to entertain of my prophetic mission, and succeeded beyond my expectation."

" I was in consequence of this incident, inspired with the resolution of remaining among the Indians for the purpose of using the influence I had thus acquired, in order to tame their manners, and restrain their barbarous practices towards their enemies. With this view, I solicited adoption into the tribe of the Mingoes, and their principal sachem, Fallakamsah, who had lost a son in the late fight with the Ottawas, received me with all the usual formalities, in his stead."

" My desire to make inquiry after my child, however, still urged me to proceed eastward. I informed Fallakamsah, that a vision had ordered me to that quarter, and requested his cousent to my journey. He at once gave it, observing:"

" Fallakamsah never will oppose the revelations of the Great Spirit"

" I came to Frazier's. He did not know me. I saw my child, I kissed it, and pronouncing a blessing upon its head, returned to the Mingoes, for the purpose of extending my influence among the Indian nations. I succeeded, and was soon acknowledged by all the neighbouring tribes as the undoubred prophet of Maneto."

" In a few months, I again visited my daughter, and formed the resolution of making a concealed residence in her vicinity. I soon discovered this cavern; it was naturally well suited for my purpose; and with considerable labour and perseverance I rendered it still more so by constructing its entrance as you find it. It was whilst I was employed in this undertaking, that my intercourse with Frazier's family, in the character under which they have ever since known me, commenced. In a dell, a short distance from this place, I found Paddy, who was then but a small boy, lying on the ground crying piteously, with a fractured limb. I carried him home, and by this means obtained an unsuspicious introduction to the intimacy of the family. Previous to this, my visits had been few, and made cautiously, for I feared discovery from the superior means which Gilbert and his wife had of knowing me. I escaped such discovery, however; for simple and undisguised themselves, they placed implicit confidence in my story, and looked upon me to be nothing more than I pretended. "

" I now became the instructor of my child, and I felt happier than ever I thought this world could make me, since it no longer contained her who had given me the only true relish of existence I had ever enjoyed. I had no desire to return to society. My all was here, in the Wilderness. My child was here, the last sad home of my wife was here; here was the spot---ah, how often have I watered it with my tears! where the remains of her once lovely form were interred. Here, too, was the theatre of my usefulness to humanity. By my authority over the minds of the savages, I have had the happiness to save many a human being from destruction. In maintaining that authority, however, I must not conceal that I was often obliged, in imitation of the Catholic priesthood in former times, to work miracles; in successfully effecting which I have been long greatly assisted by the shrewdness and dexterity of Paddy Frazier, who alone is in the secret of my being an European, although he knows nothing more of my history. It was by his management that the eagle which was sacrificed instead of Doctor Killbreath, at Le Boeuf, was found so opportunely bound to the Rock at Lake Erie, and numberless other instances---"

" that a party of French soldiers, commanded by De Villiers himself, had just surrounded his father's house, threatening to burn it, and to carry the whole family prisoners to Fort Du Quesne, in order to compel them by torture to discover the place of Maria's concealment."

" Fear not, Miss Frazier, for your friends. I have a force at hand sufficient to rescue them from these tigers of the forest. My life for their safety.--- Father, comfort thy daughter till we return. And now, Captain Adderly, and you, Paddy Frazier, follow me!"

" Turn, execrable villain! and defend yourself."

" In the name of the devil, who are you,"

" I am the avenger of Miss Frazier's wrongs, Knowest thou that name?"

" By heavens, then, you are her lover, I suppose--- the destroyer of my bliss! Have at thee, then!"

" So perish all the foes to virtue, and the oppressors of innocence! Maria is avenged! I at length have done something to deserve her!"

" Ye hae, wi' the blessing o' God, delivered us frae the house of bondage, an' wherefore should we no submit to be guided by you to the land o' safety? for I trow we canna' bide langer here, let us gang whar' we will, unless we want to fa' into the pit o' destruction."

" Noo, Nelly, did I no tell ye mony a time that the prophet could na' be an Indian. He had aye owre muckle sense, an' gifts sae like a Christian, that he couldna' ha' talked better on what was richt an' wrang, an' what was true religion, gin he had been born at Maughrygowan."

" An' I aye had a notion, that the French officer, wha was sae affectionate to his wife, wad yin day or ither come back to look after his dochter."

" It is no wonder, my son, that you became enamoured of this sweet blossom of the forest, and felt such an ardent desire to plant her in your bosom, and carry her to a more congenial air. I really give you credit for waiting with so much patience during the slow process of obtaining my consent."

" I deserve no credit, on that account. Whatever is due to my forbearance in not making her permaturely my own, and depending on your indulgence afterwards for pardon, is altogether owing to her. Even at this moment her consent to make me happy depends upon yours."

" Then mine you shall have without another moment's delay, Secure her as speedily as you can, Charles, for I really believe that she is a prize, and may heaven make you long happy together!"

" Thank you, thank you, my dear father!"

" I shall sign and seal articles, as to money matters, with the Laird this very night,"

" As you please, for that, father,"

" I thank you, colonel, I thank you, frae the very bottom o' my heart, for your kindness to me an' mine; baith for what ye hae done, an' what ye noo offer to do. But I canna gang to bide in Virginia, whar' there are sae mony black-a-moors, the very sicht of wham wad gar my flesh creep to look at. But I'm as thankful as gin I took your offer; an' I'll no forget, no, while my saul an' body hang thegither, I'll ne'er forget, to pray for blessings on your gude heart, as aften an' sincerely as I'll pray for my ain bairns"

" Never mind me, my lads! push on---you know your duty."

" Carry me there, and let me die in it."

" Tell Washington, that I die happy, for I die victorious, the death of a patriot soldier, worthy of having been his follower!"

" Alas! a brave man is cut off in his prime! so were my sweetest hopes once extinguished!"

Site & Project by:
Satoko Kakihara, Panya Lyons, Nathaniel Rice, Douglas Wilson

James McHenry's The Wilderness (Volume 2)

An online, searchable database

- Humanities 198J Final Project, Fall Quarter 2004 -
Stanford University

All Dialogue By :

James McHenry's The Wilderness (Volume 2)

An online, searchable database

- Humanities 198J Final Project, Fall Quarter 2004 -Stanford University

All Dialogue By :

- Humanities 198J Final Project, Fall Quarter 2004 -
Stanford University