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Tous les autres exemplalres OFlginaux sont filmte en dommengant par la premiere page qui comporte une empreinte d'impression ou d'illustration et en terminant par la dernlAre page qui comporte une telle empreinte. Un des symboles su!yants apparattra sur la dernlAre image de cheque microfiche, selon le cas: le symbols —^ signlfie "A SUIVRE", le symbols y signlfie "FIN". Les cartas, planches, tableaux, etc., peuvent Atre filrn«s i des taux de reduction diff6rents. Lorsque le document est trop grand pour Atre reproduit en un seul clich«, il est fiim« A partir de I'angie sup«rieur gauche, de gauche A droite, et de haut en bas, en prenant le nombre d'images nicessaire. Les diagrammes suivants iliustrent la mtthoda. 1 2 3 1 2 3 4 5 6 ■,^41^ LUCELLE; OR, THE YOUNG INDIAN. r A ROMANCE. LONDON : PRINTED AND PUBLISHED BY E. LLOYD, 12, SALISBURY-SQUARE, FLEET-S'l-REl£T. I8H1 . (33) ■'■ f ;2. i"j « 1 "S ^ ^ ■;1 ■'1 ■»« : ... 1 1 J < . 1 . .n^ C dulj we ( tere thri pati LUCELLE; 0», THE YOUNG INDIAN. •--. ^'-1^*1*? INTRODUCTION Our object in publishing a novel of so much intere»t, will, we doubt not, be duly appreciated by our very numerous and intellectual readers. At times, when we could not introduce history, we have endeavoured to place, in its stead, the in- teresting objects of fiction, founded upon facts. In the present instance, that thrilling und truly inteierting labject, " Love," is tbe meteof of wr present oc«a patipn, No-i » LUOBLLE : OR, THE ■We beg very respectfully to introduce to our readers the novel of "Lucelle; or, the Young Indian/' under the yery positive impression of their reading. CHAPTER I. ' The world may laugh, and sneer and jeer m much as it pleases, and pretend to look upon love as a " very little thing," M after all. so long as the human heart is constituted as it is, this passion wiU continue tp he like the rod of the ancient prophet, the Tnaster feeling of the fioul. No dramatic composition 13 bearable un- less it is well spiced wilh the" tenderpassion," and a work of fiction would be as dry as a last year's robin's nesl, unless those peculiar emotions which draw the two sei.es together have a very oonspicuous place in it, and form one of the leading leatures oi the story. ; i h' 1 Men and wera«n, aottectively, may affect to despise a drama, arja novel wnicli contiiins a large quantity itf love ^ack stuff, when talking aboi«^8«^h compositions , but, individuallv, they are goveiined by this very thing which Hhey attect to riai- cule and Uugh at sntnuch. Thty have two characters, an exterior and an inte^ rior. and ft mavTa^ difficult for even intimate friends or familiar acquaintances to determine which predoraina«6». Every one knows his own heart and his private history, except fldl&r ag^is sins may be concerned ; to these he may be, ana probably is blind. 3B«t few df fhe human race have ever hved to the age of puberty, wholhave not, at some period of their lives, fallen in love, as the phrase eoes. That is an enoch in human life which youth most vividly remembers, and Icre r-annot erase it from the tablets of the heart, la six of the seven ages which the Bard of Avon has so graphically described, the passion of love is strongly telt, or the time distinctly remembered when it first threw its halo about the heart. So stron- does this sentiment reign in the human breast, that when one object oi affection is lost,' the heart puts forth its feelers for another to fill tne aching void, even beiore the time has expired during which common decency, >abit, or custom has decreed that outward signs of mourning should be worn. No class so soon falls in love irwidoWs and widowers. Even the youth whose heart sighs like a furnace, feels not the tenderness which beauty and loveliness mspire sooner than those of riper years, who have lost the objects of thfir first attachmem ; and we have no riason to doubt but the lean and slippered pantaloon, whose hose are a woi Id too wide for his shrunk shanks, has atifl the emotions ot love. ^We have never known a widow, however much the infirmities of age might bend her down, wlio did not cherish a wish, and sometimes indulge a secret hope, "i»^* ^''^'/^ "^''' ,^^ married again ; or, if lie was a bachelor, that he expected every day .thut some circumstunce would happen which would introduce him to some fair woman. How often men wish, and even hope for cerUain things, without lifting a hnger to ohtain them! Well, hope keeps the heart from breaking, and makes lite tolerable. . , When Quocn Elizabeth requested Shakspeare to write a play, and m reduce into It his unimitated and inimitable Falstuff as a lover, she only reflected the spirit of the ago in wl.ich she hved. Although never married herself yet she thouo-ht us m.rch about love as any of her lovmg subjects She '"'8^^* jia e been too proud to marry, but she was not too cold to love. Ihe queen. whi.n si t gave this order to the'great poet, not only mad. kno«^ her own teehogs a d represented the feelings of her subjects, but also embodied tbo^e emotions which hive actuated the human heart in every age of the wor d. The peop e of all . ..nations who have cultivated and cherisi.ed a fondness f^^,*^;,^'' ''^^ j'^^^^^f/" 1 !• r-, ,: _ -..„,,_ „i,,,....e.iif.nji •n"'-'* «>vical as the lark,, and active and sprightly as the deer of her own native forest. She was now about eighteen years of age, and the first-born of the old Frenchman's family. As migh^ be reasonably cxpectei, she was the idol of her father and pel of all who knew her ; but the circle of her acquaintances and friends 'vas very limited. The pro- fession of her father was hunting, apd he cared for nothing else. M. dc la Motte had always secured the friendship of the Indians, and maintained f^ {:erfectly neu- tral position among the belligerent parties. His lodqe was within a s^tope's throw ef the lake, situated on the south ajde of a high bluff, which extended quite down to the lake's shore, find protected the hut of the hunter fronj the col^ north winds during the inclemejik seasons of the year. A small brook triqkled by his ha.bitation and mingled its waters w^^h those of lh|e lake, forming a little harbour for his hiich canoe, which Lucelle delighted to skim oyer the lake during the summer season. She never fell better than when she wa» paddling the conoe over the calm bosom of the lake wikh a paddle ina;eniously. wrought by her own hands. The vessel was m^de by a young Iroquois Indian, and purchased of him by her fiither. This sou of the forest had often seen Lucelle and wquld'1have.l6ved her if he had dared to do so. At any rat?, the c-'xnoe was niore beautifully made and nicely finished beciause the youns? Iroquois 'k»ewf-f that the fnir Lucelle would sometimes sail in it as well as her father. We may as well describe the person of our herione n'^w as at any other time. Her form was light, hut yet every muscle had full play when she moved, giving her a graceful fulness anq, beauty of motion whieh might have become the ino^t fashionable saloons of Paris better than the humble sequestered dwelhng sha- occupi,ed. Her conaplexion was a beautiful brunette, her hair black as the ra- ven's wing, and fell in rich clusters over her finely moulded neck and shouldera her eyes were very dark and sparkled with great brilliancy when sljetvas excites but in her calmer mooients tli,eir sparkling brilliancy did not destroy that softness) of expression which loye is calculated to produce in prince or peasant, her fore-, hejid was not high and broad, neither was it low nor pinched up at the temple8,f bj!* !*. \"?'1S "vnanflffl insf r-nnilffVi in o-iv!" tV-.a KrsVinlrler is /rirrppf iiir^n nf hf>n!jt.v, and t^Ct ofl at the same time it impressed him with the assurance, that there was no lack of LTJCEt LE : OR, THE Intiliectlial jpbWer in the fair possesgor, lier nose was beautifully chisselled, and the fcxpressioh about herrcouth evinced great firmness nnd repolution, as well as noirth Iknd (Julck wit. On the whole, her face and form were exceedingly beautiful and fc'evVilching. No young man of taste and refiiitment could see her and remain an l«'different spectator. The French officers and soldiers, who at that time occupied Ihe fort of Ttconderoga, were all snaitten with her charms, but she had invariably pursued such a course of conduct, whenever she liappened to meet them, that they dared not make any advances beyond what strict modesty and true delicacy \rould approve and justify. Although she appeared by her conduct and motions to be entirely ingorant of her charms, and her powers to please the other sex, yet she was not so. Many a time had she looked into the mirrored surface of the lake, while she was dexterously paddling her canoe over it, and beheld her beautiful face and curling '.air re- flected from the deep bonom of the watprs. Ah ! she had all the instincts of an accomplished wojnan in civilized and polished life. These taught her that she was beautiful and possessed powers to please . And often had she said within her- self that she oould exercise them whenever an object was presentedwhich she deemed worthy of her heart. Stracge as itmay seem, Lucellewas ambitious, and deter- mined to seek fame and reputation in some way. The spirit and enthusiasm of the times inspired her young heart with strange fancies, and excited within her bosom emotions of ambition. She could not, like her father, remain nentral and indifferent t* the^cenes which surrounded them. Thev lived in the midst of wars most cruel and blood-thirsty. While her father cared not which government he lived under, whether of France or England, her feelings and impulses were all on the side of the former. She disliked the British, and yet she sometimes dreamed of having a British officer of hi[»h rank and wealth for her husband, in case she could not obtain a French ooe. One morning, in the latter part of July, sne was off upon the lake in her canoe. The weather was very fine. Scarcely a single cloud as big as her fair hand could be seen any where above the horizon. It was towards noon, and not a breath of air rippled the calm surface of the lake. The sunbeams lay upon the placid waters and made them shine like burnished siiver. The trees upon the shore were deeply laden with green foliage, and the high bluff around Tinconde- rosa looked beautiful and grand. Mansfield Mountain and Camel's Hump raised their lofty sumUiits far above the clouds on the eastern side of the lake, and range after range of mountains rose one after another upon the western shore of this beautiful sheet of water, the whole forming one of the grandest and most picturesque views to be seen in any country. Lucelle was letting her boat lay calm and still Hpon the water, and admiring the beautiful Lcenery which sur- rounded her. She sometimes wisVed that she could be the mistress of some splen- did establishment, and then again it would seem hard tor her to leave the lodge where she was bom and the little trout brook which trickled along ly its side. A thousand ambitious emotions pressed her heart, and % thousand fancies flitted across her mind. She thought of the wars, and even of seeking the bubble reputation at the cannon's mouth. *» Oh ! how I should like to be engaged in a battle 1" she said to herself as she sat in her light canoe, looking towards the fort, and saw French soldiers prome- nading upon the steep bluff which rises perpendicularly up from the shore of the lake, and prevents all approach from that quarter. " But it is not so pleasant to be fired at, or cut in pieces by a British sword. The young Indian told me the other day that it was expected the British soldiers would attack the foit in the course of the summer. My father has two guns, and one of them is just big enough for me. I have shot a good many ducks and other game with it, and why couldn't I shoot a British officer with it ? Ah ! J had better shoot him with my bright eyes, and make a husband ef him. Father says he don't care who beats, if the otters and beavers are not frightened off by their guns. Strange he don't take YOUNG INDIAN.I •idea with the French, his own nation ; I don't so much wonder that he don't fight for the British. They've nlways h«en the enemies of the French, and trying to make slftves of them. He snys, if they will let him alone a^d permit him to roam the fields, he will not disturb them Hunting has great charms for bim I like'the sport of the chase too, but then there jirc some other things I love hetter : at any rate, I think I should love them better " These and many other things ran through the mind of the lovely and ambitious Lucelle as she sat in her boat, viewing the beautiful prospect around her. "It is a lovely day," she continued to muse to herself. "But it is really warm. No cool breeze from the north has yet sprung up to ripple tlie smooth surface of the lake, and the reflection of the sun from the water is quite oppressive. I think I must leave this beautiful spot and seek the shade." While she thus communed with her own thoughts, she cast her eyes towards tho shore, and 8a,w the young Iroquois sitting on a rock at ihe mouth of the brook, where she moored )ier light canoe, and gazing upon her. This young fellow was one of the handsomest Indians belonging to any of the numerous tribes which were then scattered over the couotry. He was about twenty, two years of age, tall and straight as an arrow, of quick and easy motions, and courage which knew no danger. As we have before intimated, he would ha''e loved Lucelle, if he had dared to be so presumptuous ; but he never breathed such a thought to her. His acts and every motion evinced he was her faithful friend, if not her lover. She had never yet seen any white man she esteemed so highly as she did him, but she did not love him. Such a thought as that never found a lodgment in her mind. She was too proud and aspbiog: to marry a red son of the forest, and her h^art was too kind not to retorn the friendship he had manifested towards her. They were indeed friends, and not unfrequently seen together on the shores of the lake, with their guns, but sometimes in the forest, two or three hours' walk from her father's lodge, insomuch that the officers and soldiers of the fort began to speak of them as lovers. She was aware of this ; but then she had too much iodepenitence of mind and character to be annoyed by it. When she saw this Iroquois at the landing place of her boat, she gracefully plied her paddle, and her light vessel swept over the water like a duck, and soon its neatly curved nose was run into the brook. She leaped upon the rock where he sat, and bid him a cordial good morning. " Where have you been these two or three days ?* she inquired. '* 1 haven't seen you since last Monday. Have you been hunting, or looking after tha British?" . " I have been up the lake," he replied. " I saw some of my red brethren about thirty miles south from here, and they told me Gen. Amherst would oe here one of these days with an army, and make an attack upon the fort." (• Do you think he will come ?" asked Lucelle, gazing upon his copper-coloured face, as if she would read his thoughts before his tongue expressed them. "I don't know what to think," he reolied. "The British feel now quite encouraged, and intend to drive the Frencn from the country or make slaves of them. I shouldn't be surprised if an attempt was made to take the fort before many weeks. The British are rallying their forces at many points. It is said they intend to attack Quebec too." ♦• Ah !" they cannot conquer that strong place," she said. " I went there last summer with my fotber, the longest journey I ever made. But we went by water almost all the way. I used to paddle our canoe a good deal of the way myself. We had a good many furs, and father brought home quite a pile of silver and gold with him." *' Wkat does he expect to do with all his money?" inquired the young Indian, while a smile passed over his countenance, and he gazed on the beautiful counte- ' nance of the fair Lucelle. " That's more than I can tell you," she replied. " He loves to hoard it up to look at it: He kai been Accumuiating it eyer since I was born: He sometimes* LUCELLE ; OR, THE in the evening, takes it out from the boxci and count* it all over, and then carefuHy puts it awny again." He's laying it up for you," lie replied. " You'll have a good fortune left when he dies. •* I don't care anything ahout money, unless I should have eiiouj^h of it to liuy the best housff in Quebec, nnd live there," she answered. "And trien, if the British should conquer it, I shouldn't care about living there." " If you could marry a rich officer, and live in a splendid house, vou would like, I conclude," he replied. " Ub, Lucelle, you're proud and ambitious. I would not leave tbcfe woodn, where I have always lived, for all the splendour in the woild. I love the brooks, the lakes, the mountains, and th« valleys. All have chorms for me." " I love all these things too, but then there are other fine things in the world I should like to see," she replied. " I should like to live in London or Paris. I've oftea heard father speak of the se cities. Yoti say I'm prunrf. Well, I know I am, and how can I help it ? It is born in me, and will snow itself." " I expect you will \ye some great lady yet, and I hope you will be, if you wish to be,'' he answered. " You arc a white woman, nnd such are sometimes very proud ; but I'm an Indian, and never can be great, however much I desire it. I sometimes wish I was white, bat then it is wrong to indulge sueh wishes." " You must marry some Indian girl as handsome as yourself, and then you will be just as happy as if you v.'ere white, and a great man," she answered. " I often think if I ware less ambitious I ahonld be more happy ; but still I sigh for some- thing beyond what this beautiful forest aiTords. I souietimes think I wilt take up arms, disguise myself as a young man, and fight the Knglish. I don't see \Vhy I couldn't shoot them as well as I can shoot wild ducks. I've often beat father down in yonder cove, and killed more at a shot than he i^ver did. He aays I would TOaidd gazing upon them. After a few more words had passed between them, Lucelle went into the lodge, and'ker friend struck off into the woodg '^oh^ aa: u _ -n',^ uluu^i i yo W( ha an ca ^Jia^j ■; . £ 'hut f»9'i.: ': . Mr CHAPTER tl.' ' .u.. u.. - " " . .: M . .. • , , . (j.ji j'aol) uuiju/Hi''. •■ When I.ucelle entered the lodge, her father was riedfimng upon a rudely con- structed behch partidly asleep, but he av^bke from his siumber, when he heaid the light footfalls ^ his dangtiler. . He saw at a glance 'that she was somewhat excited. , , " Where have you been," Lv.elle, since you came ashore?'' iriqnired her father, rising up and lighting his pipe. " I thought 1 saw yon paddling towards the land- ng Eome time ago." "I vf&s,'- she replied. "When I ran the'caooe up into lied, while* smile lit up his wrinkled and weather-beaten countenance. " It happened Oh' a day which I never shall "' Why not forget that day as welTas any other?" she itiquired, feeling her curiosity much excited, and b«ing anxious to .hear the reason. "It was the day when you were hoin," he replied. ''That was*,seventeen years ago last January, and so you're very neai eighteen, an age when young , women begin to think about b ing married. " I hav'nt thought much about that yet, father," she replied. '• I hav'nt seen any one yet I should be witling to have." • " I hope not," he said. •* Time enough yei thetie dosien years for you." '* But do tell me about young Turok's father," she said. " I want to hear more about him." « Don't you prefer to heer something about his son !" said the old man, smil- ing and gazing very quaintly into Lucelle's face. «* I have seen him, but 1 have seen his father," she replied. *' You do not think, father, that I particularly love tiie young Indian, do you 'i He's our friend, and as such 1 respect and highly esteem him. — He's one of the handsomest InHtntno T liMa«^. A«»j^»> arkn*% A lt£.>. "if^rl ^e\£\ a tt V\c nt%t^Ma marry an Indiani if b« was made of goldt' ^^j tiT? ssv £17 uvtSi-vtinrsts-*. ^ v^u - A UV7%a. TTVtta^ h h n fi LUCELLE ; Oft, TUE YOtNO INDIAN. '•Well, well. Lucelle, I was only joking," he replif.d. "I did not supple you would. Turok is a nice fellow, and his fether was a ?ery clever m»n. When he was quite old, he came here in a dreadful stonn in the month of Jannaiy. It happened to be the very day you came among us. He had been several days out and a storm coming on, he could neither reach his own wigwam as soon as he calculated, nor kill any game for food. When he came in, he was almost ex- hausted with hunger and fatigue. 1 gave him a Utile food along by degr^-es, and he recovered so much that the next day he was able to proceed on to his camp, which Wi s then about ten mile« from here. I never saw any human being manifest so much gratitude as thut poor old Indian did. He had a powerRil frame, and a robust coustitution, but to be almost three Uiiys wituuut iowu cauie Very near costing hiin his life, If he Jwd had five miles faitUer ,to travel through No, 2, — ^ 10 LUCELLE ; OR, THE 4 \ ■ the deep snow that day, he would never have reached my shelter, Hia little dog eame almost aa near starvation as his old noaster. I never beheld two ^oie piti- able objects since I have made these woods my home, and I never desire to again." Lucelie listened with beating heart and swelling bosom to' the story about the old Indian. She was so much affected at his recital, that the tears chased each other down her cheeks in rapid snccession. With all her high, ambitious notions, and aspirations for fame and distinction, she had a heart lull of tender sensibilities, and overflowing with the milk of human kindness. «* 1 thought the Indians could always get game enough to keep them from star- ving," she said, in a voice choked with sobbing. "They do generally," replied her father. "But I remember that was a very extraordinary time. It had been snowing and blowing for five days without any cessation at all, and besides, the weather was very cold, and the game very scarce, as it, always is on such occasioM. Even partridges will plunge into the snow and bury themselves beneath the white covering to got out of the way of the storm. I have 3ometime8 travelled a whole day and not seen even a squirrel to shoot at. But I was always careful to carry with ma a pretty good portion of food to guard against what might happen." " Oh, father, Turok uja the Britiah soldiers are coming to take the fort," ihe said. " How does he know that ?" he inquired. "I have had some fears of it re- cently." *' He heavd «f it Irem sone Indians at the head of the lake," she replied. " Well, Lueetta, wt Wttst be quiet and be aa friendlv to one party as to another," he said. '* The I n4iam» will never hurt us, and I don't sea why the British should, if they should take t||* Psf^ m^y more than the French have. Perhaps some of tke soldiers mighl attempt ta latl^ pe. if they thought I Imlaay money, but they will not suppose that„ and wt "hall be safe ; besides, the eAeers would punish them if they should do violence to an oki wan. They would W troubled to find the money, if they should breaJk in wpai wt" '• I'm mow aftaidl o|t$« B(itn& than I am of th« French, or of the Indians," she said. ** I tion't like them. If they should atteapt to rob us, they should find out how well I can fire a gun.*' " You weal^n't shoot them, would you ?" he adked, smiling at the erect posture she awniBed, and at her iaak, flashing eye% " Ju mkk as I woul«l pop over a wud duck,** she answered. " Thai would be norarder? ' said the old hunter. *' We4. cton't t)Uf murder, and why shouhk't they be murdered i" she in« qnire(|. *' It would he ri^t ta eheat hem in Self-defence, but if they don't trouble us, we will let them aloBe^" he noi. ** U wtH make but little difference to as, who commaHde the &rt, whether French or Eaglish." •• Yon'N %FK«tehmaB, lather, nd why don't j'ou take sides with the French ?' she asked, " The French government did noi use me well before I left the country," he replied. " The king and hia ministers would not pardon me Of a crime of which 1 Was accused and found gui)t3s'' "A crime!" she repeated, in much surprise. "Were you ever guilty of crime !" •' No, I was not guilty, but was convicted on the testimony of a witness who swore falsely," he replied. "No, no, Lucelie. I was not gu.liy, and Heaven knows I was not." " Of what crime were you convicted ?" she anxiously inqnired. ** Of forging my brother's name," he replied. "But that brother pursued me with the revenge of a devil rather than with the feelinirs of a brother. He wanted me to leave Paris, and he knew, if I was convicted of a crime, I should leave the country »R 800D a9 my 9«atence expired* Fax three yettrs was 1 kept in prisoir. YOUNG INDIAN ^i At the expiration of that time, I was released from jo, and then fled from my country." "Why should your brother be 80 cruel?" she asked. " Our father was aged, and sny brother thought he could not continue long, and so he took that method to get rid of me, that he might have all our father's estate after his decease. I became disgusted with the government, and with my own kinsmen, and came over to the new world." " You never told me so much of your life before," said Lucellc. •* True, I never have/ he replied. " And it were well, perhaps, if I had not told yon." " Oh, father, I'm glad you have done so,'' she replied. " Dft you ever expect to go back to France V ^ .,„ , '. . « Why do you ask me, Lucelle?'" he inquired. " What put that mto yotir head?" «• That young Indian told me," she answered. « He did not sav you were actually going to take that journey, but inferred from what you said to him thai you sometimes seriously thought of it." , • » '< That yonng fellow has a good raetrory, and seems to take a deep mterest in •whatever concerns us," said the old man. ** 1 do remember saying something tVhfmabom visiting the land of my birth ; but I had forgotten the circumstance. Turok is really our friend, and so was his father. If he were not an Indian, I should be almost tempted to let him have you for his wife." " Perhaps he would not have me," she replied. " Perhaps not !" repeated her father, ironically. '* No doubt he loves you more than any other person does, except your own father. And indeed he is worthy of your highest reward, but the races ought not to mingle their blood. Let theca remain separate and distinct. This young Indian will always be our friend, fof he will never forget the act of kindness 1 did to his father. Leth/mbeour friend. The time may come when his services may be valuable to us." " I shall do nothmg^ father to forbid his friendship, neither shall I conduct myself towards hJra in such a manner as to encourage his hopes that I would be- come his wife. That I like him I candidly confess, but love him I never can. ' " Oh ? Lucelle, you have relieved my heart of a great burden," said her fether. •«For several months I have watched your movements as well as his, and some- times 1 feared vou might love him ; bnt now I am entirely satisfied. Seek his company as much as yen please, but do not encourage him to hope for anything beyond what friendship can give. Deceive him not ; for I should rather see you sink in yonder lake to rise no more, than to knovr that you have deceived such & young man. Hnmble as my situation in life is, I'm too proud to have my daughter become an Indian's wife." #i.«„i.j» " And your aaughter is too prood to have an Indian for her busbandi replied Lucelle, standing erect, and gar.ing proudlv into her father's withered face. ** Unlike the white man, Turok will never urge you to a compliance with hi« wishes, and 1 doubt whether he will ever disclose his passion to yoo," he said. " He will keep the flame shut up in his own heart, and there let it bum.* ' '* I hope it will ; but could wish it might go out entirely if any does burn in fiis heart," repl-ed Lucelle. " While Turok and I were talking at the landing, that officer Delano was standing not far off and gazing most mtently upon us. I don't like his appearance at all. I've found him before staring at me when I've been oa the shore of the take." ., » . .^ " You must beware of him, Lucelle," said her father. «He would ruin you if he coidd, but I have not many (ears, lor I think you can withstand all his arts. Don"t you think you can ?" " I do indeed, father," she replied. "He can never Lave any power over me, 1 Kke Twrok bettor than I do him, and wo-j'.d tell him so, if he should name love :o me." • 12 LUCELLE; OR, THE «* I Will go out and kill some partridges or some other game," said the father. •• You had better remain in the hous , a the weather is extremely warm." The old hunter took his gun and started out into the woodi, while Lncelle went a few paces from the lodge to visit her mother's grave. She often visited th^s sacred spot, which was situated on the side of a small hill near the brook. It was a beautiful and romantic place, commanding a fine view of the lake, and the scenery upon the opposite side. A small block of limestone marked the spot where were deposited the earthly remains of her mother and two children. Near the head of the grave were a little bunch of wild flowers which Lucelle transplanted there and culti. vated with her own hands. Almost every day through the warm dry season, she would fetch water from the brook in a vessel made from birch bark, and water the flowers. Young Turok made this little watering-pot, and gave it to her in the early part of the season. It was made in an oval form, with a strip of birch bark nicely punched with holes, fastened across one end, through which the fair Lucelle let the water trickle upon her flowers. It was beautifully stained with bright red and purple colors, and the handle, or rather bail, was neatly carved from white ash wood. This was also stained with different colours, and some fine moss nicely fitted to the part designed for the hand. The whole was a \ety ingenious piece of work, and cost the young Indian several days of steady labour. But he performed the task with a light heart, and exercised all his mechanical skill and ingenuity, which were by no means inconsiderable. He gave it to her about the middle of May, and she had kept it very choice, using it for no other purpose than watering her flowers, and hanging it carefully up in a particular place in the lodge after using it. When she went to the grave, she took this vessel with her for the purpose of watering her flowers, and just as she was sprinkling them with this little shower ou ' j^' ^'*"**°*"t Delano made his appearance at a few paces distant from her. She did not at first discover him, but continued the process of gently watering her delicate flowers, while he stood, partially concealed by a buiich of bushes, silently watching her. ^ " Grow on, bright flowers, for the season is fast approachini^ when your beau- tiful leaves will be nipped and withered by the frost," she* said, in a voice loud enough for the young oflicer to hear, while she was pouring the pure brook water upon them. " I, too, shall have my season, but it will not be long, for time flies rapidly away. Oh, that I could do something to makejmy name known beyond these woods ! And yet I love these scenes, and especially this sacred spot. Oh, how I should desire to carry it with me if I should leave my native forest, and these flowers, this brook, and this beautifal watering-pot too, which young Turok so ingeniously made, and generously gave to me." " She mentions the name of that youiig Indian who is so often with her," said Delano to himself. " My suspicions, 1 fear, will turn out to be true. She loves him. No, no. Such a beautiful creature can never love an Indian. And yet Turok is really handsomer in face and form than nineteen-twentieths of the young white men. But he must not marry her. She must be mine. What a fool i am that I have not declared my passion for her long ere this ! I may have deferred it already too long She's proud, there can be no doubt, for her coun- tenance and every motion of her beautiful form show it. To her pride, then, will I appeal, and if truth be not sufficient to win her heart, I can utter seme false- hoods. I'm poor, I know, but then I can say I'm rich, and that she shall live in splendour. I must approach and have some talk with her. This opportunity must not pass unimproved. Her father is not here, and the young Indian has gone. Now is my time." As these thoughts chased each other through his mind, he stopped from be- hind the bushes which had partially concealed him from her view, and her eyes fell on him; but she did not suddenly start, nor let hei watering-pot fall from her hands. She was not afraid of him, although he was an ofiicer, and therefore she contimieu to water her flowers until he auproadied within arm's length of her. <• God day to you, Lucelle," he said, gazing iuto herldark eyes, and wishing YOUNG INDIAN. 13 to imprint a kiss apon ber full red lips. . " It is a beautiful day, but rather wrarfh and dry. Your flowera would droop, I conclude, in such weather as this unless you watered them. I've often looked at those flowers and supposed they must be watered often, they app;ar so fresh and beautiful." " Yes, sir, I take great pleasure in washing the dust from their leaves. &nd refreshing; their roots with the pure water from the brook,'* she replied. •« It is a baautiful employment most surely," he replied. " By the appearance of the glace there is a grave here, I conclude." "The grave of my mother, sir," she answered. " I visit this place quite often . I love tol come out here early in the morning, and listen to the birds as they sing in the branches of the trees. My mother was once very fond of the music of birds. She has often led me out on the banks of that little brook when I was a little girl, just big enough to toddle along by her side, to listen tu the sweet songs of these warblers. Oh, those days were happy ones indeed. I then had no asiurations for anything beyond these scenes." " Do you now wish for anything the woods do not furnish ?" he inquired. " For nearly eighteen years I have gazed upon this forest and this lake, and is it strange, sit, that I should sometimes sigh for a change ?" she asked casting her dark eyes upon him as she would read his inmost soul. " Surely it is not : but it would be most sinpularly strange if you did not wish for other sights besides these which the forest affords," he replied. " True, my sweet girl, you adore these wild and romantic scenes, but then you might shine as an ornament in more civilised and highly cultivated life. You transplanted those flowers at the head of your mother's grave. They once grew in another place, and yet they look fresh and beautiful here, as when you first took them from their native bed." '* Oh yes, sir, I think they look even more blooming and fresh than they did then," she replied. *' I was very careful when I dug the roots up to remove considerable earth with them ; besides I never let them lack water, especially when the air is hot and dry." *' So you would look more fresh and blooming if you were transplanted from your native forest to some city where you could ficure in fashionable life," he said. " What pure brook water is to these flowers, would be a fine house and rich ap- parel to you. Your beauty would adorn any palace, even the most fashionable one in Paris." " Were you ever in Paris ?" she inquired. " Indeed, my dear girl, that's my native city," he replied. '' After the war is over, I expect to return there again. I left many gay friends there, beside" a very handsome fortune. But I thought more of the glory of France than I did of all these things. When her power is fully established among her colonies here, and her rights fuUv acknpwledgtd, I shall go to my native city — to my beloved Paris, and then spend the remainder of my days in ease and affluence." *• I wish my lather would go to that city," she said. " That was his native place." " i thought so by his motions and looks," he replied. " The life in the wood which he has lived, nor his age, has entirely blotted out all the marks of a city life which were placed upon him in his younger days. His still easy and graceful manners show that he was well bred. Me received impressions in youth which old age can never erase. You too have nany of his motions, but you did not learn them in the city, but rather from his c;. ".lople. Women and men are too imitative creatures. 1 have had it often upon my mind to ask your father where his native place is, for J. thought he must have lived in other places besides Vaq forest. I'm now satisfied. I always feel a peculiar gratification when I find my conjectures are correct. I have the vanity to believe that I can judge a man's character very nearly correct after I have seen him a few times, and pardon me when 1 say I' think I can a woman's too. I had some acquaintance with your lez in times past." ,**.' l4 LUCELLE; OR, THE *' Perhaps you have a beautifal wife in Paris to moan over yoor absence," said Lucelle, feeling some curiosity to learn whether he was a married man or not. " Oh, no, I was never married nor in love before i came into thia wilderness," he replied. *• Well, surely you could not have seer anything to wake that tender passion in yeur heart since you have come here," ohe said, while a pleasant smile played over her beautiful (ace. '• Not until I saw the wild flower before mc," he replied, returning her smile. ** Then you love these flowers at the head of my mother a grave as well as I do," she said, making him believe she thought he alluded to the flowers instead of her- self. •« I'm very fond of the wild flowers which grow in the fojests. I al- ways stop to gaze upon them when I happen to pass them in my walks in the woods." "I did not speak of flowers, but of a flower," he replied, emphasising the last word on the sentence, and shrewdly looking at her. " Then you have seen one more beautiful than all these, have you?" she in- quired. "When I found these, I thought they were more beautiful than any I had seen, so I selected and transplanted them here. If I could have seen the beautiful one you apeak of, I presume I should have chosen that." •* Did you r.ever see yourself in the mirror surface of the lake when you have been gliding over its waters in your light canoed' he asked, assuming a very cunning look. " Oh, yea, quite often when do winds ripple its fair bosom," she replied. *' Then have you seen that same flower of which I spokt," he answered, drawing towards her, and laying his hand upon the watering-pot she still held. Ho would have been glad to seize her hand, but she was not yet ripe for that ; at any rate he felt 18 if it might be advancing a single step too far ; therefore he contented him- self by placing his hand on the vessel very near hers. She turned her deep black eyes upon him in such a gaze that he was plad he did not venture to press'her hand as his first impulse prompted him to do. Her lips made no reply to this indirect declaration ot his pwsion, but she stood erect and silent. He felt as if she intended to rebuke him by her silence and nmnners without the aid of words. He thought for the moment he should rather face the British army than such a pair of black eyes. He was really embarrasaed for a short time. At last the thought struck him that as his hand was on the watering-pot lie would, by some means or other, take it, examine it, and praise it. " Thi« is a beautiful vessel to water your flowers with," be said, taking it from her hand, and looking at it with apparent admiration. " Did you make and paint it so eleoanily ? If you did, vou must be quite a genius." " Oh, no, I did not make it," she replied. " 1 have not ingenuity ensugh to make such a beautiful artielo. It would take more ready and better practised fingers than mine. Young Turck made, and gave it to me last spring, and I've used it ever since, but very carefully. It is a very pietty present. Don't you think 80?" ••;•'•» ' *' The article itself is very well, but the donor is not so engaging," he replied " l don't havp a very high opinion of the Indians. I've seen too much of them to place much ? jnfidence in them. They are a treacherous race and foil of deceit." " Your *' I 8' ^)C any ot, r o very f r to with sa n* irok is not treacherous and deceitful, is he?" she inqaired. •ou think he is not," he replied. " But I wouldn't trust hiro nor le copper-coloured race out of my sight. At one hour they'll appear our face, and at the next take your scalp off. You cannot trust tkem LiUcsUe I wish to ask you one 'Question;" " You vi&n ask me two if you pleas'e," she^said. '* Bat you muat allofW me l© act ray own pleasure in answering them." ♦ ^ **■■ YOUNG INDIAN. 15 her " Ob, certainly," he replied, softenini down a little when he saw how prompt, ready, and resolute she was. '< Do you love that young Indian P" " Why do you ask me that question ?" she inquired, very indifferently. " Have you ever tnuught that I did ?" " I have not been able to find out what I thought," he replied. " He has been witli you often, and you have received presents from him. And that is not all. You seen:; to prize this birch burk watering-pot very highly, and to take very special care of it. This I have just had froifi your own lips. Now can you blame me for having some suspicions that you and he are on familiar terms with one another?" " I attach no blame to yoij at all," she replied. " You have a right to yo:ir own thoughts, and 1 have a right to give my heart to whom I please. Turok is ray friend, but not my lover. Ho has never declared his love to me. And I'm quite certain he never will. Humble in life as I am, and worthy bi> Turok may be, I could never assent to marry him. He and I belong to two separate and distinct raceo. And I feel as il these two races ought to be kept separate and distinct. You know my mind." " I do indeed, and glud am I to hear you thus express yourself," he replied. "You have too many charms, and too much peisonal beauty to spend your days in an Indian's wigwam. You were made for more polished society, and to mo'^^e in more splendid circles. Would you i^ot choose such a life, if it were in your power?" " I know I'm proud and ambitious, but it would be folly for me, situated as I am, to expect such a life," she replied. "It is in your power,' he said, seizing her hand, and suddenly bringing it in contact with his Ups. *' Forbear i" she said, withdrawing her hand, and suddenly leaving him standing by her mother's grave motionless as a statue. A moment before he kissed her hand his heart was full of hope that she would be easily conqtiered, but now a cloud came suddenly and unexpectedly over hi^- prospects. Standing a few mo- ments and gazing upon her retreating form until he saw her enter her father's lodge, he turned upon his heel, and repaired to the fort, much dispirited. I CHAPTER III. nor Rumours became ripe among the officers and soldiers of Ticonderoga Fort that tne British and provincial troops, under the command of General Amherst, were on the march through the woods by the way of Lake George. An attack was expected, and much excitement prevailed within the garrison. Some of the officers were of opinion that the best policy was to set fire to the fort, and flee to Crown Point, a position farther down the lake, where they imagined they could more successfully resist the British forces. Others were of a different opinion, and thought it best to defend their present position. It was not yet tfertainly known to them that the enemy was on the march for the purpose of beseiging the fort, although some friendly Indians had told them that sucn was the fact. While they were under the excitement which these rumours naturally produced, ILieutenant Delano was despatched with twenty men to scour the woods in every direction within ten miles of the fort, and bring intelligence in case any evidence of the enemy's movements was discovered, tending to confirm the tidings which the Indians had nr^viously hrought- It was thft next day after Delano had his inter- view with Lucelle de la Motte at her mother's grave, when he was ordered upon this reconnoitring expedition. The night previoua bad been a resti«S9 eoe for 16 LUCILLE; OR, THfi YOUNG INDIAN. tand it." *• I'm aware of it, nny dear sir," replied the young officer. " And fortnnite indeed is he who love^ her who loves him. 1 was once plaiied In no very enviable pos tion before I liit Pans. A bj utiful girl of one of tlie Lwt flimilies in France lell in lo»e with me, but 1 could not return her affection. I regretted that, but I was not in fault myself. I made no efforts to win her heart, but she gave it volun- tarily, and before I was aware of it." **' If she was so beautiful and belonged to such a high family, why did yoO not reciprocate her afTection ?" modestly inquired Lucelle. «'Ah! dear girl, there was that indefinable something lacking in her person or minnners which my heart sighed for ," he replied. " Wnat it was I cuuld never divine unless it Was hurf eye<." "What of her eyes f" inquired Lucelle. Where they not handsome and expresive I " Tiiey were generally thoajht to be very handsome and expressive, but they ■were a light blue,' he r «plitid, fondly gazing into the bewildering depths of her dark orbs, which were now lighted up with peculiar brilliancy. At any rate he thought so. *' Very well said, atid a handsome compli-nent to Luf^elle's blac eyes," thought (r father. " If he loves hor, and what he says of himself be true, he would m ake fine match for Lucelle. But I must know more about him before I give hun too much encouragement. 1 should be pleased to have Lucelle marry a rich man of Paris 5 for I intend to return there one of these days when I collect money enough to carry me to the city of my birth. Perhaps this young officer has money as well as rank." These thoughts were running rapidily through the old hunter's head, while visions of splendour were floating in the imagination of his ambitious daughter For afew moments silence reigned in that old habitation, and no one seemed disposed to break it. Both father and daughter were chatiged in their feelings towards the French oflScer. Lucelle had never fancied him, but now she felt as if an union with him might enable her to realise some of her dreams of happiness and splendour. Delano with e:igle eyes watched the workinsts of their countenances, and flattered himself that mitteTs were tending to a very favouiableissiie. The character he assumed wasei tire y false, for he had never seen Paris in his life, nor crossed the broad Atlantic. He was born of low parentage in Cape Breton, but by dint of great exertions be had obtained a lieutenancy in the army. His heart, va^ corrupt, and notwithstanding his great pretentions to a love for France, he was reaiy at any monent to abandon the service of his country, if he thought I'e could improve his condition by so doing. It had been whispe ed amon<>' the officers and soldiers of the fort that old De la Motte had accumulated, £y the sale of furs, a considerable sum of m')ney. This rumo ir he was not a stranger to, and added somewhat to the charms of Lucelle; still beloved this beautiful maid for her owii charms, aside from any influence that gold might produce, and Was determined to have her at all hazards. *' It is strange how n iittie matter wili influence the heart !" he continued " I thinlc it very possible I might have loved that beautiful Parisian belle, if her eyes her a YOUNG INDIAN. 19 rhile and had baon somewhat of a d«eptr b^ne. and her hair and oainplexiou had b«en not quite go blonde. I have al vays been told tha I am rather pttrticiilaiaiid f«i>ttdoua» and I |ii|)pii%(' I ftin. That young lady tlioimht io no doubt. When I left Parii fur the ghiry of France, ihe waa ;a great dittf^ii of roiod, so aoine of my friebdi told me." " And have you not since heard from her P" inquired Lucelle, in a vo«ee whose accents told liow deep waa her sympathy for the joung lady who bad fallea so hopelessly in love with him. ♦' Oh. Lnceile, I did hope you would spare me from answering moh a question,* he replied, assuming an air of seriomne^s. and gazingly irUf^ a r act. " Cu: I will answer you fronklv and honestly. 1 have heuid from her. In less than a yaw from the time I left my native city ; she pined away und died of a broken heart." A tear stood trembling in Lucelle's dark eye, which the youna: officer watched, with peculiar sensations of delinht, for he fancied tliat the big drop famished Strong evidence that she believed his false story. " Yes ; mv dear Lucelle, she died in all her youth and beauty, went down to an untimely grave," h»; continued, wipins? one eye with his han^^-)1' YOUNG INDIAN. %i •,' /»;■ two .olcliers about a subject in which they imve not the least perionul interest ''''•'T.lon't understand why they .hould have n.a te my hurd-wrned money a lub- ject of the.r convorHution or dispute." ..id the old man. "They, don't intend to "^^ Nott lof/g as I have any command >ver them." answered the officer "They •hould be «ho if they attempted anything of that kind. I presume however, there's no daLer of olr soldiers doing' such deed,. They are too much afra.d of P""'? di;i:-t Xp-e there was any danger.-' said .he old man ; " I spoke of it more "./do ^rk^ap^r monev in silverr incjuired the officer "If yo« do you ^ilUaveapiloo/itoneofthese days, lo big that you could not carry .t with ^""'it is T rincipally yellow," replied the old hunter, smiling. /« Tm thinking rust has not ye cormpled it/althoSgh some of the piece, have been m my uossessn^n ?mm?te? of a century. Th^ pile is not .0 large yet but Lucelle and I couiJ shoulder Srememberei city, I shall he flush. ^^ The letter of my agent says my estate has been very productive since my absence." • 1 n i„ \t^,t^ a T wnnM «• I have no objections to answering your questjon/ said De la Motte, I \yould nnt bnwpvcr wish to make the matter too public. . t- « -Oh su- vorcan rely upon me. I shall never d vul«e any secre wh.ch you „av Plea e to entr st me wit?,." replied Delano, feeling his ear ,tch to hear how Such gold the
ite at any hook except an Indian's." " What do you mean by that ?" anxiously inquired Dslano, with a beating heart ;in 1 swelling bosom. * " Mean by that !" echoed Jo, as he was familiarly called; «• why, I mean just what I said. They say that she has bit at a young Indians hook, and that he has caught her. Well, young Tuiok is a devilish smart, ingenious fellow, if he is an Indian. He's straight as an arrow, active as a deer, and strong as a bear. I should hate to fall into his hands if he were angry." •' She love an Indian," exclaimed Delano, apnarently in wrath. " Why Jo you talk like a fool. If she is so beautiful as you say she is, do'you think she would marry an Indian? Nonsense! man. She'll never be guilty of that " '♦ Perhaps she will not ; but I've seen them together many a time id the woods ** said Jo, somewhat excited at the sharp rebuke of th(? officer. " I once saw a triri of skill between them in shooting a grey squirrel upon the top of a tall dry pine- tree with the bow and arrow. Turok fired first, and cut otf a part of the poor squirrel's tail; but that only frightened him a little, and made him change his position on the limb of the tree. He laid as close to the limb as he could get, and looked sliiy down at his tormentors, as if he wished they v?ould let his tail alone. Lucelle drew her bow mot gracefuly, while a smi'e played over her pretty face' and her bosom heaved with pleasant emotions, and off went the arrow with the T -J 3 ■'^ •• -" ^"^ -iiwiiv. o iic«u cAactjy nail vvay ijcUt^eii bis eyes, and down he came plump into the fair creature's sun-boimet, whirh she held out to receive him the moment she let the arrow fly. And the woods echoed with bar joyous laughter, aud the young Indian laughed as heartily as she did, appa- y 24 LUCELLE ; OR, THE YOUNG INDIAN. Vm I rently enjoying tbe triumph of her skill as much as he would his own in case he ''*?< S'?hcy'se\^ you1-"inquired the officer, with a heart almost rendy to burst with race and indignation at tlie young Indian. „ « No • T was concealed m a bunch of bushes a short distance from them, reolied Jo. " I wanted to see the sport and not disturb them with my presence. They appeared to me very much like lovr ., although I don't know much about love myself, or how lovers ought to act." '« Did vou see him kiss her ?' asked Delano, almost breathless with anxiety. " Certainly I did not," replied Jo. " He didn't make any attempt to kiss her, if he had, I suppose he might have done that thing, for he was near enough to her to take a kiss or eive une." ^ . , • •' Were their faces near together ?" asked the officer m a tremulous voice. " Quite near when they were examining the hole the arrow had made m the poor squirrel's head," answered the imperturbable soldier. , . v i «'Thcn he didn't kiss her, you say ?" replied Delano, feeling somewhat relieved from the sensations which crowded round his heart before Jo made h.s ans^ver "Yes: I said he didn't kiss her; but then he might have kissed her, he an- swered. "They were so much engaged with the sport of shooting the sqmn el that they put off the kissing business till some other time. No doubt the young fellow has^issed her a thousand times. VVhatof that? .Who could be alone n. the woods with such red lips and not kiss them ? Not I, if she would let me. and I hardly ever kissed a woman in my life." . " y1 do Lucelle injustice, sir," said the young officer, ewe llmg w, h prulo but more with indignation against young Turok, for fear he had kissed the loved ouo °^^' NoTn'ustice at all, lieutenant," replied the soldier, beginning to feel his tem- per rise a little .t the pomposity manifested by Delano. " I hare no doubt Lucelle s E virtuous fetaale, and if she intends to marry that young Indian, theie is no harm in permitting him to kiss her, or even in her kissing him. " She never intends to marry him," answered Delano. «« Prav sir, how do you know that ?" asked the soldier m a stern manner. ^ " I had it yesterday from her own lips, and she would not speak falsely. s:ad " Verv well, I will take her own declaration," replied Jo. " I didn't know jis she had been Questioned by any one in relation to that point ; perhaps you hav^. more interest in her than I was aware of. 1 yielc the poiiit, but at the same time I must be permitted to say that she will not marry any officer or soldier belui.gnig to OUT establishment. * . . ,. , , i , ^ • ,. i The soldier now began to be suspicious that Delano had been figuring round after Lucelle. and, if so, he was determined that' she should know his true cha- racter and standing among the officers and soldiers of the gammon. Prideaux was well acquainted with him, and knew his origin and a I about him. He suspected that Delano had been palming himself off upon her for a great deal more than he wa ; for he was considered the greatest liar and bra.adac.o there was in tlie whole camp. Jo Prideaux was a hard customer for the young officer, and it will be t i:ranere if he don't find him eo. , . ^ xi. r "The officers of the fort will not call on you for a recommendation to the favour of any one, either man or woman," said Delano. . '• I presilnie some of the officers will not," replied Prideaux emphasising quite strongly the word some, " for. if they do, they would not be likely to gain much ^^'' Well. sir. you will please to attend to your duties while you're under niy crmmand, and give me no more of your «aucy woris," saia Delano, very pompously. Prideaux made no reply, except a contemptuous sneer upon his <=7";;!;'^;'^1"''»^; be conf.rued into one. This intrepid soldier did not fear Delano, for there «as not ©ne in the company who would take sides with this young pompous officer; every LUCELLE ; OR, THE VOUNG INDIAN. ' 25 one believed him to be a consummate scotrndrel, and all knew he was an errant coward as ever wore an epaulette or dangled a sword. The company now marched along, following the course of the broek, which flowed towards the south-east into the lake. Delano did not intend to go so far from the fort that he could not return to the fort before nightfall, for he was toe much of a coward to be out after dark, and the soldiers knew it. As they slowly said I every marched along upon the banks of the brook, Prideaiix hinted to his comrades that he would frighten their pompous leader before they proceeded much farther. It sometimes happened that Delano would pluck up courage, and walk ahead of his company, in order to show that courage which he did not possess; but more often he to«k his position at the side of the platoon, and .strutted along there. Prideaux watched his opportunity, and, when Delano was marching along ahead of them, he sang out, in a voice that chilled the blood of the young man in his veins, — No. 4. 26 LUCELtE ; OR, THfi I ■ n i ! I ; nearly ia th« «* Hark ! it seems to me I hear the tramp of the enemy. Alls>.'iaenlyatop(.ed, while Delano ran back and placed himself centre of lUe company as he could iu bis tright und consternation •'Hark'" said another soldier, who understood the trick, in a voice scarcely aboveawhispcr- crouch down, and be still as death, or we may be fired upon tlLr bodi.' made into riddUng-siev s in the twinkling of an ey. ; for the Bnta^ "'VlIl'companvi'T^mediately dropped on their knees to carry out the joke, and fri Jhten thdrleader. The uembhn,. and frightened Delano was not satisfied with irignun "'«';"=" . , . . hu„„ed the ground much closer than his com- punf 'nTd " InV, ctd\t" etS beffi the pfsteriors of IV.deau.. who had great dStv in com oiling himself, so as not to burst out into a fie of loud Imghter. AU remainerin this pos.ticn a few mo^nents, apparently every instant expecting '''^::G:^^:^i^^rS,l^^r.^r whi^peredDelaodn a voice trembUne with ?ear, close behi«d Prideaux. It «emed to Prideaux as if it were 1 vni,.P fmm ou of the eround, *o close did the o«eet'* face press the ground. '°Fo, ou" country'^ S^and f^ the glory of France let ua advance and give our tL ser orfigfat," 8«id Pridewx, inl voi«e a. resolute as hecoaW make .t ?or laujhrng^isinl up. and aiming h.s gu«,*sUbe were about to blaze away into the very hearts of their foee. • ^ j tu • The whole company, following the example of Jo. rose up. and pointed their ..uns at me thick bu^hes ahead of them. Ddano did not rise irom his recumbent ^ture Xn the oSiers did, but did soa« .&«:. and wWte tl«ir death-dealing wea- P'^^V^e^Son^J t,-":xclai»edtl« t«.mbli.^g IMano, in the «gony of his SSSft r±is^hi^ ^?rtr?L;-; to the fort as soon as possible. ' The coiKpany did not mind poor Delano. 1»ut, receiving a hint from P"deaux fWv kdvS Ilowly in the dinSction their guns were aiming, aad were soon almost they a^^*"*=*'*";*'7f their irp'ibline leader, io U»e bashes. The young officer was lost to tl^« /'^^^^/^^X ' he^^^^^^ advance, lert he should meet the r^v-s^fire atd^^ ft«d t^ luX kst he should be kft .lane ; he stood f hUnaTn'thrhOTnbk dilemma, as if lie wouU drt>p m pieces, and sink into trembling in that homoieoe ^^ ^^^^ ^^ h, jbat J>el«K,'fl unmention- 'vl ''±e as we" rr/hirhad been thrown into the bwok, on the benks of ables were as wet t^ "JiSer this excess of moisture proceeded from profuse ittS ortLi^ome ofhS ^XlTll^^'^ior others to^dge ; for he said he § Zot eel'hirv^tf competent to settle that important quest«a. Af. r hP eomnanv had proceeded a short distance into the bnahes, they halted ^ li o T/ Luno saw this movement by some of those who were in the and trailed arms, ^^^^"^jf,^*^^^'^^^ ^o b«atL more freely again ; still he was rear, and not out ?J o^^'S** Yfter the lao'^e of a few minutes, the company came tr Wf ;LTwi:"' thtf v^aUamTadfr stood, with countenances unscored hv battle, or distorted by fear. -Have the enemy fiedr anxiously inquired Delano, stanng wildly around him ^reckon they h^^^^ replied Prideaux, -fur we couldn t see the whites of .1. ir< if we md vou would have heard terrible cracking with our guns, r .r W4rriJ:d'tJg.ve them ooe broad.de, and jhe. if they didn t re- ^'f^ki::rx^^'^^^ t::^^:::^^^^^^ sid Deian. - we ihey may """"^ & . - :„ Hanger every moment while we SvM«l the «aemy. »>«l bri-g ^ tttog. to the fort. YOUNG INDIAN. 27 ly in th« scarcely ed upon, i Briti«h oke, and Red with bis com- lad great hug titer, xpe cling 1 a voice f it were and. and give make it way into ted their !cumbent ling vvea- iny of his iding the r guns at ^ " Re- ;he report Prideaux, on almost SScer was meet the he stood i sink into nmention- benks of im profuse he said he hey halted ere in the till he was pany came ) UQSCored •ound him. whites of our guns, didn't re- 0. « We t while we ,t€ly if we "Well, hare yon seen him?" inqnired Prideaux, struggling to repress a smile, "Which )ie felt rising from his heart to his lips. " 1 have not, but 1 suppose you have," replied Delano. " No, I haven't," answered Prideaux, looking very cunningly upon his com- mander. *' We haven't any of us seen the enemy with the naked eye, Ijut yet he may be advancing, for 'all that," caid :inother soldier, smiling most provokingly. Delano was so much frightened, that he did not yet understand the tr»ck they had played upon him, ' was still trembling with fear. Notwithstanding the times were really critical, and the enemy was actually expected to besiege the fort of Ticofideroga, yet Prideaux and bis companions enjoyed this sport with the young lieutenant with a right good relish. " Let us retreat to the fort," said Delano. '* Nothing will be gained standing here." " But everything may be lost," replied Prideaux. " Hark ? Didn't I hear something?" The lieutenant again shook with fear, and even ran to the cunning Prideaux, as if that soldier could protect him from the assault of the foe he so much dreaded. Prideaux still kept himself in a listening attitude, very much to the amusement of liis companions, as wel) as to the horror of their cowardly leader. " After all, I believe I heard nothing but the water trickling over the pebbles," said Prideaux, smiling. «« But it is well to keep a strict watch in these dangerous times. Belter be over watchful than too careless and secure." *'I believe, now, we've all been frightened at our own shadows," said another soldier. *' I think the enemy has not been near us. We bad better proceed on and see what further discoveries w« can make." " No, we'll go no farther from the fort," said Delano. " We can take a circuit round, and so draw towards the garrison before nightfall. It will not be safe to be out after dark." *' Nonsense !" said Prideaux. " None but children are afraid of the dark. If the enemy approach us at all, they will do so by the way of Lake George. Our duty is to push on as far as the. lak', and reconnoitre in tl at region. W e can do 80, and then return to the fort at a seasonable hoar. If we should be out in the evening, the bears won't catch us. It is but a shoit distance to Luke George, and I move we go there before we retnrn. It was expected that we should go ag far as that at least." Their cowardly leader remonstrated at first against such a proceeding, bat finally yielded, with fear and trembling, to the feneral voice of the company. They now took a more westerly direction ; but Delano was seen no more pomp- ously strutting ahead of his company. He kept himself in the rear, greatly to the amusement of the whole party. They proceeded on, and soon stood on the shores of Lake George, a beautiful she-t of water, about thirty miles in extent. The scenery about tills lake is grand and beautiful. For wildness and piclu- resque beauty it even exceeds that around Champlain. It was now approaching night, and discovering no signs of the enemy, they concluded it was best to start for Ticonderoga. None consented to this arrangement more readily and willingly than the young lieutenant. In going back to the fort, he even took the lead a part of the way. especially the last part. Neither Prideaux nor any of the rept of the company undeceived him as to the game they had practised upon him. True, he was not so much of a consummate fool as not to have any suspi- cions of them, for he did have, and could not well avoid it. Soon after they left Lake George they beard a crackling noi«e in the bushes not far distant, and made a halt. Again the poor lieutenant was almost friglitened to deatii. ivt nrsc rnaeaux aim me oihcr um uoi rhuw hui i..cy m'g-.t i-.x-,,-^ come across a scouting party of the enemy, but soon their fears were quieted by the appearance ol Turok. When be first came up to them, he was apparently- much fatigued by hurried travelling in the woods ; for big drops of sweat stood upon his manly brow and his finely chiselled nose dilated at every respiration, n't I! 28 LUCELLE ; OB, THE fl li ■ w I! i . The appearance of the young Indian indicated that he had made some important discoveries, and was on his way to inform the commander of the fort. AH were elad to eee him, with the exception of the iieutenMit. He hated the looks of hxin now more than ever, since Prideaux had told of his trial of ekill in shooting with his beloved Lucelle. „ , j /• .1 u .i.». .^^ •• Ah ! well met," exclaimed Prideaux, as Turok emerged from the bushes and bent his steps towards him. " Some news of the enemy I dare say, for those big drops of sweat don't ap pear ^on your brow for nothing, lis not a tritling affair which makes you sweat so." .. , • ^ j u'„ Delano came up close lothevoung Indian with great anxiety depicted on his countenance, but Turok gave ' him a look of proud disdain, and retreated from him a few paces, as much as to say he did not wish to hold any correspon- dence with him. The lieutenant felt that his dignity was offended, and was highl3' displeased, but he concealed his ill-natured feelings as much as possible, and said, " Any news of the enemy ? See any traces of them ? ^ . , Turok stood, and proudly and disdainfully gazed upon the young officer, but did not open his lips to make a reply. Prideaux and his companions were nighly gratified wiih this demonstration on the part of the young Indian ; tor '» t^^^y ever despised any human creature, Dekno was the being. Prideaux now thought he would see if he could not unloose Turok's tongue. , 1 ,. -j t> • " You have seen some signs of the enemy, I know by your looks, aaid Pri- deaux. " You will tell me, an old friend and acquaintance, not only ot yourseU, but of somebody else, who resides at the other end of this brook. You under- stand, eh ?" r • i -i j 1 A gleam ofjoy illuminated the manly face or the young Iroquois, while a dark shadow passed over the countenance of Delano, who ground his teeth together and clenched his hands in rage. Turok saw his anger, but he feared him not. •« I Will speak to you of what I know of the enemy's movements, for you have too much courage to be frightened at your own shadow," replied Tarok. Ihe enemy are approaching, and will besiege the fort in two or three days, and, perhaps, >t sooner- . i tv 1 •♦ When did you see them ?" anxiously inquired Delano. « Be not alarmed, coward; for they are not within shooting distance yet, ^' M^au? Ind hU companions could not rofrain from laughing at the well-timed remarks of the young Iroquois. Poor Delano, but for his fear and cowardice, wmild have shown his wrath, and attempted to chastise the yo»"S.^'^^«f.f°\J J insolence on the spot, but as it was. he grinned and bore the insult the best "^"^ ^The°n they won't fire upon us immediately," said Prideaux, laughing and winkinff at his companions. . ... ^ ^ " No I think not.» replied Turok, taking the hint and smiling most contemp- tuou^y upon Delano. " W. can probal ly reach the fort with whole skms. unless some one of the company should die of fear, a horrible death for an officer or a '° - True fioCh, Turok," replied Prideaux. " I should ratl.er be shot ariy time than kick the bucket the way you speak of. Ive n > doubt some cow rd-^acua iy sul- tmore pain in fearing de^ than they would if a bullet shot .hou.d go plump '^K young lieutenant felt as if he could almost swear to the truth of what Prideaux staid, although he lad never had a bullet pass through him, and never intended to if he could avoid it. ... ,, ,,.„ « Rut where did vou discover the enemy ? inquired another soldier. ..Near the head ot the lake," reeled Turok -ahere appears to be quite au army of egnlars and provincials encamped on the shores of the lakes, under the Command of Gen. Amherst, as 1 was informed by an old Indian whose can.p i.n t more than half a mile this side of the enemy." *i„.«„„i, >» ♦« Well, then, we shall have some warnx work of it befpre we get through, :! i YOUNG INDIAN. 29 Prideaux. " The Britiih are tleterrainpd to maka no half way business of it this time. Do you think the enemy outnumber us ?'' " Three to one, I've no doubt," replied Turok. " The fort may hold out awhile against the siege, but in time would be obliged to surrender. The old Indian told me the British general had provisions and stores enough with him to prolong tlie siege until the lort would be starved out. The French, in my opinion, •will have to yield sooner or later. 3f they make resistance and attemj t to defend the fort> they will be taken prisoners of war, but if they abandon Ticonderoga and retreat to Crown Point, they may save themselves from such catastrophe," '< I'm of your opinion," said Prideaux. "But I should like the sport cf making a few holes through the regulars with ray trusty old piece." " We will go to the fort immediately," said Delano, " Let us make no more delay. The information is important, and the sooner it is communicated to the commander of the fort the better it will be for all concerned." •' I will go on ahead and make the communication," said Turok. " Come, Prideaux, go with me. We can travel faster than the rest. The lieutenant might be fatigued should he attempt to kei p up with us," " I'll go with you." replied Prideaux, " if thy companions are willing," They all readily gave their consent, but the intrepid leader. He was anxious to be the first one to deliver the message, but the young Iio-juois was determined that Delano should not take any advantage to his own credit of the news he had been at so much pains to obtain. He preferred to be the bearer of the tidings himself. "Nay, we will go together," said Delano. " It will have a more military ap- pearance." '• Then I will go alone; for I'm not yet under your command, and probably never shall be," proudly replied Turok. " And I'll go too," said Prideaux. " In times like these we mustn't wait for the orders of every little petty officer who thinks more of himself than other folks think of him," And away ran Prideaux and the young Iroquois, leaving the lieutenant and his party to bring up the rear. In less than an hour, they reached the fort, and the important news was commutiicated to the commander. Great excitement now prevailed in the garrison. The commander of the fort had orders to retreat from place to place towards the centre of operations at Quebec, rather than to run the risk of diminishing the French force by surrendering prisoners of war. The young Iroquois was questioned in every variety of form. Some doubted the truth of the story he told, but the officers and ^Idiers generally believed his report, and govemed themselves accordingly. At first the French appeared to be resolute to hold their works and make preparations for a regular defence — therefore im- mediately on the receipt of the intcllisence which Turok brought, e-zery man was engaged in doing soraethmg to strengthen the position which the French then held at 'Ticonderoga. i-il CHAPTER V. It was a bright and beautiful morning the next day after the young Indian brought the intellivrence to the fort of the movements of the enemy. Lucelle was out i.i.r.n tl,P lake in her canoe, taking a water excursion merely for her own pleasure. Much conversation had passed between her and her father relative to the interview they had with Lieulenunt IXluno, and the professions of l)ve he had made, her father had become decidedly in favour of the pretensions of the officer to .as ter's hand. He had reflected much upon the proposals he Lad made. Dreams oaugh ■ U: ! ! I i so ILUCELLE; OR, THE of a?ain visiting Paris floated more than ever in his brain. He supposed his brother was still living and enjoying his ill-gotten estate. The height of his ambition was now to return to his native city umler circumstances which might excite his brother's envy. Knowing he bada daughter whose beauty would vie with any in Paris, he felt ambitious to show her off in that proud metropoliR. And now he vainly imagined he had an opportunity of exhibiting her as the wife of a gentleman of honour, fortune and fashion. These visions of splendour blinded his judgment, so that he could not see the true character of the man upon whom he so much relied to advance his favourite schemes. No ; the father was much pleaded ■with these bright prospects; and it may be quite naturally supposed that a portion of the same kind of spirit was breathed into the heart of the daughter. It was so : bnt yet Lucclle felt as if she could not love the officer, notwithstanding the daz- zling prospects held out before her excited imagination by her union with him. " Oh, how I long to be in Paris !" she said to herself, as she was peacefully Testing in her light canoe upon the quiet bosom of the lake. " But vet I know I do not love Delano now. 1 wonder if 1 shonld love him. Father thinks I should lore him after we were married and gone to Paris. But why should 1 be more likely to love him in the city than in tne forest P Oh, I wish I knew. If Turok had as much money as Delano, and was not an Indian, I could be more happy with him. He loves me ; but he never told me so. Delano is very bold in declaring his passion. After all he may not love me half so much as Turok does. Why do I dream so often of Turok ! I wish I had never seen him, and then perhap-i I might have loved Delano raore. If 1 marry him, and go to Paris, J. never shall see this beautiful lake I Jove so well, nor these hills and brooks, where I have roamed from earliest infancy. I'm not so happy now as I was a few days ago. It then seemed to me I should always live here, and have Turok for my friend and guide. It will be as hard to part from him as from these lovely scenes. 1 wish Turok would tell me how much he loves me. But why do I have sucli a wish ? I cannot have an Indian tor my husband. And why not ? The same great Being made both races. No, no, I could not marry Turok, and yet my heart tells me I love him more than any other person, except my father." While she was thus communing with her own thoughts, tne young Iroquois saw her off on the lake, and went down to the landing. Seating himself on a rock, and fixing his eyes upon Lucelle, as she was floating over in the canoe he made with his own hands, he said withm himself, " Oh, the Great Spirit has made me an Indian, and the proud heart of that vonder maiden wi 1 never let her marry me. Oh, that she knew how much I love her, and what sacrifices I would willingly make for her good. Does she know that Jplove her more than all things els^e on earth 1 I never told her with my lips, and yet my actions have been more elo- quent than words. She must not marry Delano, for he's a villain and a coward. Prideaux has promised to tell me more about him, for he knows him well. He say he IS not only a coward but a knave. Can Lucelle be pleased with him ? Her father may, because he is an officer ; but he's not fit for an officer, and all the soldie'-s say so. Ah ! she's coming towards the shore. I will give her warning about Delano, and perhaps I may hnve courage to tell my own love for her. I wish I had done it months ago. But what good will it do ? It will only trouble her, instead of afl^ording her pleasure," The fair nymph now turned the prow of her beautiful canoe towards the land- ing place, and, gracefully dipping her neatly carved paddle into the vvatcr, she soon ran her light vessel into" the brook. She had not seen her Indian friend since she had parted with him at the same place some days before, when Delano was gazing upon iiim. As the canoe came up, he reached out his hand and. politely waited upon her out of it — a thing he never did before in all his life. " Good morning to you," she said, while a smile played over her fiusucu cheeks. " Where have you been ?" " To Lake George," he replied. " I came from there last night." *' Why did you go there V she inquired. " Did you go hunting 1" ** Not after such game as vre usually kill at this season of the year," he replied ! YOtNG INDIAN. •1 *' I weut to »ee what discoveries I could make about the movement* of the British. You know it h • been rumoured that they would attack the lort here, and I thought I woull go and see if 1 could diacover a«y traces of them." * Anddid > ou lind out anythiug about theio ?" she inquired. " Indeed I did," he aoswered. " There is a large a/my encaroped on the shores of Lake George, and I have no doubt they will soou be here." " Have you informed the commander of Uie fort f" she inquired. « I have, and great preparatious are being made to defend the fort against the attacks oi the British," he answered. " P t it will be in vain, for the British forces are too many for the French. The fort will be obliged to surrender, and the sooner it is done the better. If they do not abandon the works and fly to some other place, they will be all taken prisoners." " I wish tlie French would conquer them,'' said Lucello. "So do I, but it is impossible,' he replied. " How should you feel to have Lieutenant Delano taken prisoner and carried off ?" The fair nymph gazed upon him, and wondered why he should have made such a remark, for she did not suppose he could know anything of recent movements. . , ,, t\ i " You're silent, Lucelie, and look serious," he conUnued, « Do you love Delano?" , , ** Oh, my friend, for such I must call you. I don't know v/hat answer to make you," she replied. " Yes, I do. too. I can answer the simple question you asked me, and I will do so frankly. I must confess 1 do not love him : but father thinks he's rich, and we can all go to Paris." j i i / u " Go to Paris!" he repeated in a tone of voice which told how deeply lie felt " Would you go to Paris and leave behind all these beautiful scenes— this lake, your canoe, these hills and trees, this little brook, whose wholesome waters you have drank so many summers, and above all, and more than ail, the beautiful spot of earth which covers the earthly remains of your mother ? Yes— can you, be willing to leave your mother's grave, which you have wet with so many tears, and the wild flowers growing upon it, which your own hands have watered so many times?" Lucelie burst out into a fljod of tears and wept like a child. Her heart was too full for utterance, and she sank down upon the rock, burying her face in her hands. The young and noble Iroquois bent over her, and the tears from bis owa eyes dropped upon her glossy silken hair. For some minutes both were silent, and too much overcome by the violence of their own emotions to break the silence and give vent to their feelings. « 1 would not say aught to makj you unhappy, Lucelie, he continued, in a voice full of sympathy and love. " But believe me when I say th&t I would do anything lawful to be done to make you happy." •* 1 know you would," she sobbed. " You are indeed my friend, and as such I esteem you as high as any one on earth. Perhaps I ought to except my father " . " Yes ; your father is your best friend, now your mother rests in silence U! on yonder hill-side ; but I will make any sactiflce your father would for your h^- piness and comfort," he replied. t • u " Oh. Turok, we hare spent many happy days together, and sonaetiroes I wisb they mi»ht never end," she answered in broken accents of grief and discomfort. '♦ Ah ! Lucelie, indeed we have," he replied. " 1 too, wish they mght never end until death shaU place you beside vour mother m yonder grave. Would you be willmg to have your body buried in a strange land so fto: away from your mother? 1 would not forsake the spot where my parents are buried tor all the splendours which any city can atford. No, no, Lucelie. Let me die where I have lived, and Uie sceiie oi acaui wouiu oc picaadui, mica v^.~p....-u , -j—s tJiatant and strange country.'* . „ , y j- The fair girl was agitated by powerful emotions. The voice of the young ludiaa was muBic to her ears, and she secretly wished Delano bad such a voice. 32 LUCELLE ; OR, THE YOUNG INDIAN. '•*% ' "!l. l\ " Do you love me V* she asked, in a voice full of innocence nnd simplicity. " Do you wish my lipa to express what ray actions have told you many a time ?* he replied. '« Have tliey not spoken to you more eloquently than tongue can speak? Ah, yes, and more truly too. for the lips can easily lie." " Xou need not tell me more," she said, in great agitation. " Why did I ask you such a question P I did wrong, and hope you will pardon me." "You've done no wrong," he replied. " You've never wronged any one, and cursed be he who accuses you of it. No, no, Lucelle. I've been in the wrong. I'm a dispised Indian. The white people look upon my race with contempt. 1 ought not to have loved you in the first place, and in the second I oughi ot to have told you of it. Long have I kept the secret closed op in my heart, except what my actions have revealed. You will pardon me for now disclosing it with my Hps. 1 would have avoided it if I cou'iJ, but at the moment I had no control over myself. You now know all. Despise me for it— forbid me to come into your presence— say you do not love me in return— anything— but do not place confi- dence in Delano, and leave the scenes of your youth and your mother's f;rave, to go with him into a distant and corrupt city. I'fear he is a knave and will deceive you. He may pretend to love you, and perhaps he may now, but you never can be happy with him. His heart is corrupt, and yours is innocent. Aud how can two such hearts unite in lore ?" " Do you know anything of his character?" she anxiously inquired. '* Tell my father if you know him to be a villain. Better teli him than me." ** I ki ow but iHtle of him except what 1 have seen, but Joseph Prideaux h s known him from his youth ; he can tell you and your father too all about him. He has promised to give me a history of him, but has not yet had time f ince I came from Lake George. Hush ! there he stands now, watching us as he did before. I vvill leave you, and make him believe I did not discover o ice him. Mark well what i have said, and be not deceived as you value your own happiness." Saying this, he leaped across the brook, and with the fleetwess of a deer bounder'. away among the trees of the forest. Lucelle had not time to bid hira stay ere he was upon the margin of the brook, even if she had been disposed to lay such iojunction upon him. , ■, , Soon as he had gone she started towards her father's lodge, but before she had proceeded far, Delano met her. She was much agitated, but concealed her emotions as well as she could under the pressure of circumstances which was then " Oh, Lucelle, the British are expected here eve-y day," he said. " I should have* seen you last evening, but we were so busy in making preparations for defence ai:;ainst the expected attack of the British that I could hardly find time to breathe.' There is great excitement in the fort. Many think we had better abandon th- ■ place rather than be taken prisoners by our enemies. I'm of that number." " Wliat does the commander think ?" she inquired. " He hardly knows what to think," he replied. . •« He consulted me this very morning, and I gave him my opinion fully and frankly. If they insist upon fight- ing, I shall take leave myself, for I'm determined not to be taken prisoner, and • carried the Lord only knows where. I'm unwilling to be forcibly separated from you now, when our prospects are so bright." Lucelle made no reply to his remarks, for she was not very well pleased with such patriotism as hp had shown. To leave the fort at such a perilous time, when it was necessary that every man should do his duty in order to defend it, did not look to her very officer-like nor patriotic. He tliought it strange that she did not urge him to leave forthwith, and offer to conceal him in her father's lodge. This really looked equally strange to him, but he put the best face he could upon the matter, and let it pas^ without showing his spleen. " I had a very fatiguing day yesterday,",he continued. " I was despatched with R company of men on a reconnoitring expedition, and a set of more arrant cowards LUCELLE ; OR, THE YOUNG INDIAN. 3.T I never knew. I ascertained at leiiRtli tluit tlio enemy were encamped npon tlio Hhorc'8 of Liikc (ieorgc. Imnudiutoly 1 returned :uid gave tlio alarm to the officer of the fort." Lueelle heard liim llirounh, and know that cillior ho, or Turok, had uttered a fuUeiiood, hilt she was unwilling to holievo for a single moment that her Indian lover was the guilty one ; for, during her whole ac(iuaihtanco with him, and that had been ever since childhooil, she had never known him to utter a single untruth. Upon everything he said she relied with the utmost confidence, and never doubted to his word. She thought she would not inform Delano of what Turok had told her, but let him go on without interruption on her part. Lucelle still remained silent. ,, " 1 saw that Indlau bound away ffom you a few moments ago, he contmued. <' Why does he follow you round so much ? You ought not to condescend to speak with him, especially when you are alone with him, but instantly leave him unles^ lie does you." ^0. 6. 34 LUCELLF. ; OR, THE un< " He is my friond he " Condescend to spoftk with him !" slm repeated in «urpmo, ^ the frien'»''2!' I ,nay soon bo said that he i. puying his addresses to >««. ^ \'« 7'" '^J'f ."^^^^^ than mv proud spirit could bear. 1 have half a n.md to chastise hmi lor his im- pertinence in troubliiiR you so mucli to keep out of h!s way. ' , , •< Oh. he don't trouble me at all," «he i.inocontly rGpl.e.l. " And if you should attempt t!.e chastisement upon him you speak of. I fear you would be iii"«t »'''- vcrely beaten ; for lie is a tremendous strong person, l-athcr says he can Hog . my two men he has ever seen. I've seen him leap twice as far as across this brook. He can jump as far as a deer. 1 would not touch hmi li I were you. •' 1 could flog his eyes out in five minutes, if I should take hold of bim in ear- nest " he replied, drawing himself up to bis utmost height, and assummg a very com^c^eou Took. " Why, 1 whipped a man m the city ot Paris who was twice as stio-ng as Turok is. Ah, Lnc?lie, it would not be safe for urn to fa U m o my hands. It is the generally received opinion, from some exhibitions of streng h 1 have made, that tj.ere isn't a man in (he fort I cannot handle as easy as the father ''°""war not' aware of your great strength," she replied. " You don't look so '''•a may^not, but my muscles are very firmly knit together," he answered, feeling the muscles of his arm, and placing her hand upon it. ,„„„„pr "I will take your word for it," she said, in a very stern, roprovmg manner suddenly withdrawing her hand, and gazing upon mm most intently, as it sne oiu not thank him for the liberties he bad taken. . He was evidently displeased with her movement, but aitiully ^^n^^^^ « J ,f;\''" tated feelings, and requested her to go with him t« the lodge as he had ^'"t 'itt e time to spare, and wished to see her father. She consented, and they walked to the lodge, where they found the old hunter quietly smoking his P'Pe- " Good morning, my good friend," said Delano to I)e la Mo Ue, " 1 "^ ^ W ° see you thus enjoying yourself this fine morning, while we at the fort «;<= a I J^, ;;_ tie and confusion. 1 hope one day to see you smoking a splendid pipe m youi na *"''^' r^sh T were there now," replied the old man. " I begin to think I have lived long enough in the woods." ,,. , , i ,„ v«nn1i -Indeed you have, and I hope you will not be obhged to stay here much longer," replied Delano. " You've heard the news, I suppose, about the approacn of the enemy?'' , .., , ti.o ci>r.v«« «' Yes, Tiirok told me that he discovered the British encamped upon t'le snous of Lake George, and brought the news to the fort last night, replied the out hunter. " That yoang Indian Is a smart follow. A company hke ram '■v"""' "^ essential service in keeping off the British." m« ,.,n<. r.nrfnl Delano did not at all like the turn the conversation had taken. He was u arm. that Lucelle might detect him in a falsehood, as her fathei- had repeated vrliat Turok told him, which did not square with his statement. •« My p^mm is, that we must give pp t)ie fort, for we hm not force enougu to YOUNG INDIAN. 35 ny frionil dog,' he liiiH d«nc I8C atthf not treat , and I'm avc never 1- on any strumcnt. ilians and I niucli, it 1)0 more or his iui- ou should most sf- n Hog liny lis brook. m in car- ig a very vas twice 11 into my strength I the father 't look so ed, feeling t^ manner, if she did ed his irri- but little walked to a. happy to ire all bus- in your na- have lived liere much c approach the shores ed the old , would do was ft-arful Bated what B enougli to defend it against the numbers the Urilish will brin- into tha f.eM, na.d the oiricer. •« I should be willinc to fmht as long ns any man, but to tig'at ngamst so mucti odd., and then bo taken prisoners, i« not true valour. l»olicy m war is my maxim. 1 might have been more willing (o be taken prisoner, and carried away to Albany orEoston. if I had never H«en your daughter, but now I [a"""^ .^"'l^/^ »"^'' .separation. It would be worse than death i^.U. I.I (ound when ''g'^'ngm de- fence of the fort, that I must be tak^i prisoner, 1 beli.vo I should tight oi^ unt I death put a final end to my action.^ rfe made this remark to see T'^'f ^"f ' U would have upon Lucelle. He was in hopes she would exclaim against «uch HCts of temerity and rashness ; but she remained most provokmgly silent, ami didnt Btcin to cure whether he was killed or not. u ■ • i, ,-• •« Then you think the b'rcnch have not loitc cuout;li to withstand the Bntish . said the old man. " That is my opinion, and I think they had better make good their retreat, when they can do so with safety." "You're right in your conclusions," said Delano, rejoiced that the old hunter thought as hedidufon t\m point. " If they still persist "'^ f g^/S.' r,risoner thought I should leave them to their own destruction. I will not be t^^l^ P"««"«^ HO lo5g as I have legs to make my escape. True courage does not require .in an to stand and Hght when he knows he shall either be shot or taken, f ^ «"°;i' conclude to make my escape from the fort, couldn't I find a sate refuge m your '" NoC this was Delano's object in visiting the old h""ter to ask a slieUer from him. for he had trembled with fear ever since J"^ l^^^'^^'^'^J^^^ „^,7. ""'".' frightened him so yesterday. Beside«. he was determined /« Jj;;*' ^^'^J^^ i"^. money, if he could not get his daughter, but both he would like to have the liap piness of. . . ... „„„„ It was sometime before the old man gave any reply. It was u subject upon which he deliberated very seriously before he inadc an answer. .^^of .i... " You hesitate," continued Delano. " It is for your ^^^^i f .^"^^ ^^X pr i - I take this course. I want you to accompany me to Pai s ; bi it I «^ ^ikcn pr soncr. or shot in the heat or strife of battle, an end will be put to ^a' J^^J^^ : My life I do not value but for the sake of Lucelle. I do not wish to ve if 1 can not have her to live with me. Without her, I count ul n.y estate n Pars but dross, and with her I should prize every franc in proportion as it might add to her pleasure and liappiiiess." i i • M would do anything to save you iVoin being taken prisoner. W^^^^^^^ severe upon those who harbour deserters." said the old ^u"tcr. I tear, it you should make my lodge your shelter, you would be found, and then both would have to suffer the severest penalty of the law.' " What, then, can I do ?" anxiously inquired the lieutenant. •« Hide yourself m the wood, till after the battle is over, and then join the vie torious party," replied De la Motte. , , ,. ,• i. ,,o„ "I'll do it," said Delano, jumping at the suggestion, and feeling as if he was '""hlhc,-, do you tl,;»k To™k wo„U utter a f"J-^°*;VS" "Setter . suffer his right baud to be cut oft first. "Then Delano has spoken falsely," she replied. ,.„,„.:„„ d6 LUCELLE; Oil, THE intelligence to the fort. Turok told me he did. Now there is a lie between them, and I'll never believe Turok has lied, unless I have strong proof." *' Tliis must be looked mto," said her father. "If Delano will lie about one thing, he may about another, and no dependence can be placed upon him. Joe Prideaux knows him. I will ask him : he will tell me the truth." " Turok says he's a coward and a knave, and I begin to think so," said Lucellc. *' He also said that Prideaux could tell all about him, and warned mc not to be deceived by him." " I must confess, Lucellc, these circumstances excite my suspicions,'' he .said. " I'm satisfied, from what he has just said about deserting the army when his services are most needed, that he is a coAvard and a knave," replied Lucellc. " I would never marry a man who would desert his country in a time of danger, if he were made of gold. I could never be happy with him, if he treated me ever so well, because I should know his heart was corrupt. I'm really afraid of him.'' The old hunter's suspicions, as well as bis daughter's, were excited, and he was determined to probe the matter to the bottom. CHAPTER VI. Another day had passed, and the enemy had not made his appearance before the fort. The note of preparation wa& still heard among the French, and the young Iroquois was scouring the woods in every direction in the vicinity of the garrison, and watching the movements of the British. No out was more anxious than he was to have the French come oft' victorious, and yet his hopes were by no means buoyant. , From what he saw of thv. enemy, and from what the old Indian told him, he was forced to believe tliAt tlie British regulars and proviricials would have an easy task to drive the French from Ticonderoga. Lucelle too was as anxious as young Turok. Often might she have been seen taking a circuit of more than two miles from the fort, and looking out for the approach of the enemy. She was not afraid of being captured or killed by the British. Iler father tried to keep her in his lodge, but ever since Turok had informed her the enemy were encamped at Lake George, she was exceedingly anxious to do something for the good of the French. All her partialities were in their favour, and her prejudices against the English. It was an interesting sight to see this beautiful nymph racing through the woods with the fleetness of the deer, her long, dark hair flowing over her neck and shoulders, and her eyes sparkling with the brilliancy of the gazelle's. Joe Prideaux, at the head of the six soldiers, was despatched to watch the first approach of the enemy, and a better soldier could not have been selected from the garrison. Bold, resolute, and >et cautious and shrewd, he was ever jfresent where duty called him. He had six good trusty Fienchmen with him, who were ready to fight at any moment. Prideaux kept constantly in motion, determined that the enemy sbouid not approach unless he discovered him in season to give timely notice to the commander of the fort. The part of the forest where he kept his vigils most was some two or three miles from the fort to Lake George on the route he supposed the enemy would not usually take. He knew the ground so well that he had no doubt Amherst with his army would pass not far distant of the place he had seicCicd ;i3 the tiieatfcoi his operiitioiis. '• Hark !" whispered Prideaux to his men as they stood beside a crystal spring which gushed out from under a large rock, on the side of a small hill, distant from the fort nearly two annd a half n.iles, " I thought I heard footsteps of man or beast. Yes—don't you hear the bushes crackle?" YOUNG INDIAN. 37 Soon as the words had escaped the soldier's lips, Lucelle emerged from some tliick alders which grew in a small valley through which the water from the spring ran. She wore a light cap of blue cloth and a calico loose dress, bound round her waist with n narrow strip of tanned deer akin, and moccasins upon her small feet, made from the same nmtcrial. The dress came down about half way between her knees and ancles, disclosing a pair of finely moulded legs as ever any French danseiise sported on the stage. Iler moccasins were made by Turok's mother, and after her'deceasfc, he gave them to Lucelle. She had.on, also, leggings or pantalettes, made of deer skin, elegantly wrought with moose hair, and neatly fitted to her leg. These were also a present from an old Indian squaw who was a great friend to her father for the kindness he had shown her husband when in distress. She had a small gun upon her shoulder, and a feather from the wing of an eagle in her cap. She had purposely rigged herself out in this style, thinking sh might meet the enemy, and if she did, she wished to look as hai;dsome as she could, and excite their admiration. Her pantalettes and moccasins she did not wear often, but she put them on now for the purpose of adding to her beauty. " Ah ! it is neither man nor beast," continued Prideaux, as Lucelle, with light step and graceful motion, approached them. " It is Lucelle de la Motte, armed and equipped as the law directs. She is a beautiful creature, and will shoot more hearts with her dark eyes, than bodies with her gun." With a smile on her beautiful face, she ran up to the spring, and taking a little birch bark cup from her girdle, dipped it into the cool waters and drank. " I was very thirsty," she said, " I know this little spring well, and have drunk of its pure water many a time. Will you have my cup and drink also, or have }ou already slaked your thirst ?" " We have drunk once, bnt we'll drink again for the sake of drinking from your beautiful dish," replied Prideaux, taking the cup and dipping into the spring. •* Thic water is really refreshing to us soldiers," she said, smiling and drawing her symmetrical form up in true miltary style. "True, Lucelle, and we'll drink to the glory of France," said Prideaux, drinking himself, and handing the little cup to Lucelle, who drank and gave it to the others. " 1 think I can tell who made this cup and gave it to thee," continued Prideaux, smihng. " You may try," she replied, and almost charming the company with her bright, sparkling eyes. " The ^oung Iroquois," replied Prideaux, wirlking very significantly. '* It is a perfect specimen of his ingenuity. He's a glorious fellow, Lucelle, and you need not be ashamed to own hiu? as a friend.'* " Indeed I am not," she replied. "You haVe guessed right. He did make it, and gave it to me some months ago." *' 1 thought 80," he replied. " There is a certain finish about everything he touches his hand to, which I always kriow. He's the best fellow we have. It was he who first discovered the enemy and brought intelligence to the fort." " I thought it was Lieutenant Delano," she replied, wishing to leorn something of his character. " He told me^ he did, and surely a French officer would not lie, would he V" "Delano!" repeated Prideaux^ bursting into a loud laugh, joined by all the others, who knew him as well as Prideaux did. •' Delano ! Lieutenant Delano i" repeating over the name, and laughing still mwe loudly. The loud laughing of Prideaux and his company spoke more eloquently to Lucelle than any words they could have uttered. From it she learnt their opinion of One young lieutenant without doubt. *' Then you know the young officer, do you P" she inquired. •* Yes, like a book,' replied Prideaux. He's a most arrant coward, besides being a c(>nsummate knave. I frightened him most prodigiously in the woods, the day Turok discovered the enemy. We had sport enough with him for one day. He j:.| T t 38 LUCELLE ; OR, THE I At one time I thought the spasms wouldcany him trembled like a poplar leaf, off' to the (>lher world." '* Is the city of Paris his native place ?" asked Lucelle. » No he was bori- in a log house in Cape Breton," he replied ; " but llicn he'« none the worse for having been born in a cot, if he did not attempt to make folks believe that he sprung from noble origin in France. His parents arc poor as church mice; but then he's none the worse for that, if he didn't attempt to torce the belief upon people that thev were rich, and that he lias a great estate in France. Ah! Lucelle, he's a' miserable dog, make the most of him you can Be not deceived by him. His vanity I could endure but for Lis corrupt heart. That would carry him any length in crime. All the restraining grace he iias about him is his cowardice. This may prevent him from committing any fla- grawt crunes, where courage is required in their commission. Be on your guard against him, and trust him not." _ _ • v> u "Why was he not sent out to-day on a reconnoitring excursion 7 she '' There are two very good reasons for that," replied the soldier. " In the first place he's no more fit for it than a monkey ; in fact 1 should prefer a decent sized baboon ; and in the second place he can't be found. He's among the nnssing ; he ran away yesterday, verv much to the gratification of the officers and soldiers ot the fort, if he should be 'found, they might and probably would, take notice enough of him to shoot him." , <. i ^ i » " I thank you for your frankness in telling me just what I wanted to Know, she said. " He has been telling his pompous stories to my father, and he was more than half inclined to believe them." , ^ „ " Luckily for you, Lucelle, that you have learnt the coward's true character, said Prideaux ; " but he has cleared out, and fortunate will it be forhira if he is not discovered." . , ,. r . u i <'Will he not return, think vou?" she inquired, concealing what she knew about his designs to desert the French army, and his asking to be sheltered m her father's lodge. . j • ♦„ u <• Not so long as the sound of a gun is heard, or the gleaming of a sword is to be seen " replied the soldier. « I should not be at all surprised to hear that he had ioined the enemies of his country, should they happen to be victorious. Lucelle recollected that her father had told him to join the victorious army, and «he regretted the circumstance most bitterly, but she had too miuch shrewdness and cunning to reveal the fact to Prideaux and his companions in arms, well knowing that such advice, coming from her father, might co^^ him his head, bhe had often urged him to lend his aid to the French, in their struggles for liberty a-ainst the British, but he had always refused, and would take no part m the wars upon either side. The English he never liked, and the French government, once having n locted his petition for a pardon, he never would forgive the mjury, and invariably refused to take up arms in defence of the rights of the colonies. " Do vou expect the enemy will attack the fort soon V she inqmred. " Every hour I'm expecting to discover some advance guards, or reconnoitring parties, sent out by General Amherst," replied the soldier. "The British general is a cautious, prudent officer. I'm informed, and we must look out for his wily "^°« dI^ you intend to shoot some of the red-coats?" asked Prideaux. " You're aruicd, I perceive." •, i -.T..1 u^ t " Oh, 110 ; father has forbidden me tc fire a gun on either side, but I thought 1 would come out, and sec if 1 could make any discoveries, and inform the officers of the garrison." ^ ,., „ " Well done, bravo Lucelle," said Prid-aux ; " I hke your courage. Come, will you go with us ? It is time we were on the move." '« I will go alone in another direction, and, if I see any movement ot the enemy, I will Hy to the fort with the fleetness of the deer," she replied, while her eye^ sparkled with great brilUancy, and her bosom swelled with patriotic emotions. him YOUNG INDIAN. 59 she was " The British regulars couldn't catch me— I'm more accustomed to running through those forests than they arc.'' IVicleaux and his conipunions laughed heartily at Lucclle's courage, and, prais- in-r her for her good quahtics, wheeled off from the spring, and struck into the woods towards f.ukc (leorge, leaving the fair goddess of ihe forest to take her own course. Having taken another cooling dniught from the spring, she starteil off towards the south. She pursued that direction some time without making any discoveries. While she was thus wandering about, yonng Turok was reconnoiter- ing in another direction. As he piissed aloug through some thick bushes that grew on a low piece of ground, in his way towards Lake George, further south than Prideaux and his party directed their course, he heard a rustling among the fallen leaves, and crackling of some dry sticks. He suddenly stopped and listened, but all was still. The sounds which struck his ears a moment before were now hushed, and nothing was heard but the purling of a little brook, which ran through the valley near where he stood. He observed the direction froni which the sounds proceeded, and bent his steps cautiously towards the place, his gun cocked, and half raised to his shoulder, ready for any emergency. Lieutenant Dchno (for it was he whom the young Indian heard) had a faint glimpse of the form of a man through the bushes, and, su])posing it to be one of the men from the fort, he softly crept luidcr a windfoll, and concealed himself in the dry tap, stowing .his body as closely as he could under the trunk of the fallen tree, whicii was borne up a short distance from the ground by the limbs. The poor officer lay in this place of concealment still as he could ; but he was se much frightened, that his hard breathing fell on the (juick car of the young savage, and led him to the spot where the coward had so snugly bestowed himself. *' Come forth !" said Turok, in a clear, distinct voice, as he stood upon the trunk of the fallen tree, but a few paces from the trembling deserter. Delano knew the voice of the young Iroquois, and ho trembled a thousand times more than if a British soldier had stood before him. The cowardly deserter was then on his way to join his enemies, and give them all the information in his pos- session ; but Turok did not know this fact, neither did he suspect it, for he thought Delano was even too mucii of a coward for that. The deserter kept his position, and did not at first obey the summons of the Indian. " Come forth, you coward, oi I'll leave your carcass for the eagle and the crow to feed upon," continued Turok, drawing his gun to his shoulder, and pointing it at the trembling lieutenant. Delano saw the gun aiming at him, and expected every momimt to hear the sharp report, and feel the bullet pierce his heart. Unable to hold still any longer, he sprang from his hiding-place and attempted to run, but the young Indian was too quick for him, for before he waa ten feet from the place of his cancealment, Turok bounded towards him like a tiger, and seized him by the shoulder. Delano trem- bled under his grasfS, as if an catamount was upon him. " Let me go, and I will never be seen in these forests again," exclaimed Delano, in a voice choked with cowardly fear. " Do let me go, and I will fly from these regions." " Whither would you tiee ?" asked Turok, tightening his grasp upon the officer',s shoulder and gazing into his fear-stricken countenance. "Anywhere you may please to order," replifd Delano, " Would it not be safer to carry you back to the fort, and there let you be shot as a deserter?" asked Turok, in a voice which mads his victim tremble in every joint and muscle. " Oh, for Heaven's sake, do not carry me back to the fort," he exclaimed, so piteously, that the Indian's sympathy was really excited. He thought he never heard such a mournful cry from human throat before. " Would you deceive ,1 fair young nvmph, and pa.kd iu the hushes, he made good speed and progress on t^l route. f n b 1) LUCELLE; OR, THE YOUNG INDIAN. 41 Having travelled as fast as liis legs would carry him, about three-fourths of a mile in the direction which he supposed would lead him to the British encamp- ment, he heard a noise ahead of him as if some one was travelling in great haste. He was much frightened, but before he could conceal himself under another tree- top, the fair Lucelle met him face to face, She instantly cocked her gun, and brought it to her shoulder as if she were about to fire, )n, he '* Hold ! dear Lucelle," he exclaimed, dropping upon his knees in terrible fear, and gazing wildly into her face. *' Don't fire ! It is I—your own friend and lover.' ' "Own friend and lover!" she repeated, recognising who he was that knelt so bliniblv hofnrp liAr WVinn oKo fivot mat- Ki.v. oh« A,A .■.<>!• li-r.^,.. UJ™ u-.j. xV^ 1.1 "- -/-■ • - "i- isiliij 3!i\ lim li'H' »^ll--Tr USUI, uUt lltUUgilt he mk[ht be one of the enemy lurking about. " Yes, one that adores you," he replied, " and would lay down his life to sav§ yours. You didn't recognise me at ftrst, did you ?" No, 6. wrww«™«KKEB^«iB'sJto-ia I LUCELLE ; OR, THE '« No. I did not, and would to Heaven I had not now," she replied her dark eyes flashing fire, and her heart beating with strange emotions. f^^n*' ^n^ lover indeed !" she continued. " Coward and traitor ! Ray that, and for once m Your life YOU will speak the truth." , < '^"°'°i,fXS ritVto ?h.; totoadVof the eSemy, and afforded an asvlum to the soa ping partes S'"gSfrt^,=n. » Ya7s' eirLucelle but once since her in^ K;i"fthTm r 1 i w odV^tn'sle wa: en route with intelligence for the tervnw "™ "™ ;.„,:„,■ ,1,. movements of the Br tish atniy. He was then coinraandet of the tort ol the '""""J" .^ ,™ ° „,jj i,e,to'cnt served only to ?erW the fether had alTeady entered his soul, and darkened his smrit. He feared Bnt mide still held the ascendency over love ; this, together with hei tathci s ui- fluiu?e hS as yet estrained her from accepting the proposals of the young Iro- r-. r.i I _-,. „-„~.„.i f,.«T- p h»art that did not love, and love sincerely and irniy too. They spoke to her more eloquently than any words, gitted in speech as ii. was, ho could have uttered. . , ^.i.„,-,i' „ „u„ i,. j The id^a of going to Paris still had charms for her, notwithstanding she had YOUNG INDIAN. 4r ■ as III' she liad given up all hope of bciiiy accompanied by Lieutenant Delano. Her father still cherished the hope of seeing once more his native city. True, the bright visions which the very pompous lieutenant had created were faded away, but still the old and long cherished hope was left to keep his heart whole. Not long after the French evacuated the fort at Ticonderoga, and the British had taken possession of it, Lucelle and her father were seated on a bluff which commanded a good view of the lake, conversing about this contemplated journey to Paris, and other matters. The air was calm, a gentle breeze fanning their cheek* and slightly rippling the smooth surface of the lake. * "*' These are beautiful scenes, father, and I should regret to leave them," «tie said, leaning her head on his shoulder, and brushing back the grey hairs from hii wrinkled brow. *' Don't you think I should sigh for this wild scenery, and thia beautiful lake if I were in Paris, where I could see no brooks nor trees V " You would see so many beautiful things there you would forget that you had been brought up in this wild forest," he replied, smoothing her polished forehead, and looking into her dark eyes. " But we shall not be here to listen to the gentle breezes as they sigh thfvtfgh the branches of these trees, nor hear the music of that brook," «he replied " Would to Heaven we could carry the gisves with us." • "Tell me, Lucelle, if there's nothing eke you would carry with yOUP" he inquired. *• Oh, yes, father, the brook, the trees, and thia beautiful lake," she answered.— *• I would carry all with me, that my eyes might see them until death should place his seal upon them, and shut out the light of day." " To be plain and frank with you, Lucelle, I would ask if the young Iroquois docs not make you love these scenes more than you would if you had never leen him ?" he inquired. She hung her head in silence for a few moments, and then said,— "Turok asked me how I should feel to leave my mother's grave ? He said he would not leave his father's grave, for he should be unhappy if he did.'* *' The Indians think more of their ancestors* graves than the civilized white peo- ple," he replied. "Ah! Lucelle, Turok is a cunning, shrewd Indian. But few Indians of his age are so cunning as he is, I've never known one more so. He alluded to your mother's grave purposely to make you more reluctant to leave these scenes. There are many in Paris who would be attracted by your beauty, and seek your hand. Think of these things, Lucelle, before you give your hand to an Indian. You may have children, and how should you feel to be the mother of half Indian children !" Lucelle's pride was alarmed ; for her father knew exactly what string to play upon, and what chord of her heart to touch. She made no reply to his remarks, but her countenance told the straggle which pressed her heart. It was a struggle between pride and love — a contest which sometimes Stjverely agitates the human soul. Had she been called upon at this moment, and compelled to give an answer, pride would have carried the day and gained the victory over love, aided and strengthened by parental influence as it was in her case. "See ! father, Turok is coming now across the lakel" she exclaimed, evincing more anxiety in her voice and countenance than the old man liked to see, or than she would have been willing to express, if she had had time for reflection before she spoke. But the impulse of her heart showed itself ere she was aware of it, or before she thought of what her father had been telling her. Most gracefully did the young Iroquios paddle his birch canoe across the lake to* wards the place where they were sitting. It skipped over the water like a thing of life, while the owner sat straight as an arrow, motioning his arms, and dipping his paddle into the placid bosom of the lake in measured time. Lucelle thought she never saw him look more beautiful and interesting than at that rnoment. Oh, how she wished he was iiol an Indian I But she would not havo his face, form, colo.' of skin, cxpressiou of countenance, or a single feature changed, an « Enough !'' said Turok. "I must leave you for the present. " Where ''o you propose to go now ?" inquired Lucelle, m the voice of kindness and solicitude. u • j i*. " To the place where I was born— to the spot were my father was buried. It has been some days since I stood over his grave. I feel as if there was something lacking when I have been long absent from that sacied spot," said Turok, bound- ing away into the woods, and leaving them to wonder at his sudden flight. CHAPTER TX. 1 1 Two days had passed since Lucelle saw the young Indian. On the third day ; just at nightfall, she was sitting at the door of the lodge, anxiously waiting for her father's return. He went out that afternoon, but did not return quite so •oon as she expected him. While she was thus waiting, she saw her father ap- proach. When he had reached within a few paces of the door where she was, a loud report of a gun fell upon her ears, and at that moment her father leaped mom the ground and fell dead at her feet. A bullet had pierced his heart. She c** ntly arose and bent over the prostrate Iform of her father ; but his lips were '"*d up, and his eyes were glazed. Death had placed his seal upon his aged w. While she was in this attitude, Delano came out of a thicket of bushes r by and approached her, unobserved. K; came up close behind her, and ore she was aware of his presence, said,— YOUNG INDIAN. 53 " Lacelle, dear Lucelle, it was I who shot your father, and all for the love ^ have for you. Now you muxt be mine. We will go home, for you shall live no more in these forests. There's money enough in the lodge, and we can live happy together. '^^^ *' Never vile wretch !" she replied. " Death were indeed a blessing compared with such a fate ! Out of my sight, monster ! 1 cannot longer endure thv nre- ence ! Begone foul murderer !" o . «- / i"«= r /i.' ^ o v*"® "°* by such hard names, or I here swear you shall lies as low as your father, ke answered, stepping to seiac her by the arms. At this moment the yoang; Iroquois rushed to the scene of danger, and seized Delano by the shoulder, exclaiming,— ^ ' " Wretch ! I'm too late to save the father from your cowardly shot, but the daughter shall be shielded from your polluting touch.' And the young Indian hurled the dastardly coward to the ground as if he had been a child in his pewerful grasp. " Mercy ! I pray thee !" exclaimed the trembling scoundrel, •' Oh, spare me ' and I will never again be seen in these forests. Oh, do spare my life, and I will leave this place for ever." !» ic luy me, ana i will '• Never !'- replied Turok raising his tomahawk. '< Die, thou monster for thou art not safe to run at large." And^he buried his tomahawk in his forehead quite up to the eye. One irroan ana alhwas over. The French officer was a corpee at his feet ' r. 'l^.lZ^u ^\^ ^^^^^ ^^f"^ •' ''°"^'" <=ontinued I'urok. «• He was so vile wbile he lived that he does not deserve a burial now he's dead. I will throw the dead body from yonder bluff into the lake, and let what fish that will, feed on the loathsome carcase." " Oh ! my God," exclaimed Lucelle. " Forgive me for wishing that Imy deli- yerer was notjan Indian. And thou, Turok. forgive my thought. I rjjoice that tnou art what thou art : for I would not. have thee changed." - And she threw her arms about his neck, and for the first time in her life she Kissed him. He lelt the pressure of her warm lips on his cheeks, and a thrill of joy passed through his heart. Never before was the youBg Iroquois so happy as at this moment. Years of joy seemed to be compressed into a single moment, and he thanked the Great Spirit that he had lived to witness such an hour. At length Turok exclaimed, gating upon the dead bodies before him,* " Your father's body must be buried beside yonr mother's, but Delano's doe not deserve a burial." The fair maid stood in silence for a few moments, as if she were wranned in di«eT» reflection. ^*^ ^ ^ " Nay, Turok, although Delano was a graceless villain while he lived, yet nwel he s dead, let us bury cur resentments with his body. He, too, belonged to the human family. However much we might hare despised his wicked soul let us now that soul has gone to its creator, decently bury the body which it once ani mated. Let us not visit the ini(iuities of his soul upon his lifeless body His form IS the same as ours, and the idea of throwing it into the lake, to be devoured by the fishes, or other creatures which inhabit the water, is revolting to the /cel- 1 ngs of my heart. No, no, Turok, although he has murdered my father, and oer- haps would have shed ray blood, if I had not yielded to his wishes, vet I will not seek revenge upon the dead." ' j ' ""«- The young Indian stood and gazed, first on one lifeless form and then on the other. He did not at first feel the force of Lueelle's reasoning. Bright and ta- lented as he was, he had some of the Indian's notions. He had always such a hate against Delano while he lived, that he could not have any regard for' his body now that he was dead. To give it a decent burial was more than he thought jus- tice required, according to his ideas of justice. The remarks of LuceUe set him to hinking, J< My first impulse was to throw his body into the lake," he said. " But why should I harbour the spirit of reyenge against a lifeless form, which has not power bi LUCELLE ; OR, THE YOUNG INDIAN. ^^y M i to do good or hurt. You may be light, and your wishes shall be gratified. I wil' bury the body, but not near where your father is buried. I will carry it beyond the brook, and deposit it in some place where we may not see the grave." " Do so, Turolc, and I nhall feel better satisfied than if you threw it into the lake as you would the carcase of a dog," she answered. " It is human, and I would not willingly see it become a prey to the wild creatures of the forest, or the fishes of the lake," Turok now took the body of Lucelie's father, and carefully laid it out on a bench in the lodge. He then carried the body of Dela> > across the brook, and buried it ■with the clothes on in a bye place. After he had performed this service over the last remains of the French lieutenant, he dug the grave for the body of the old hunter beside that of his wife, and decently interred it. Lucelle found a stone upon the shores of the lake, and with her own hands placed it at the head of the grave. It was really an interesting, but melancholy spectacle, to see these lovers performing the last sad rites over the earthly remains of a departed friend. But no funeral in town or city was ever conducted with more solemn feeling and purer emotions than this was. Long did the mourners linger over the grave after it was filled with earth, and many a tear Avaa shed upon that sacred spot. Tttrok after the death of Lucelie's father never left her, and it is hardly needful to add that in the course of a few months they were married. A happier couple was not to be found in those regions. They lived in the same lodge in which Lucelie's father resided ever since her birth. Their union was blessed with several beautiful children. When they were married they assumed the name of her father, and by that they were ever afterwards known and called. Even at the present day there are living in Canada some of the grandcliildren of this worthy couple ; but few traces of the Indian blood are left by which they can be distinguished. That the crossing of the breed improves the stock, was amply verified in the case of Turok and Lucelle, for their children and children's children were among the most enterprising and talented of the age. But we must bring our historical narrative to a close. The conquest of Canada was completed in September of the year 17G0. The war continued six years, and six battles were fought during the struggle, the fortune of which was equally divided. The fi^st of these was fought at the meadows, near fort Du Quesne, in which Draddock was slain and the French were successful. The next contest took place at Lake George, where Duskau waa defeated, and taken prisoner. The third was at Ticonderoga, in which Abercrombie was defeated, and Nlontcalm gained the victory. The fourth was at Niagara, where the French were com- pletely overcome. In the fifth, which was fought on the plains of Abram, Wolfe and Montcalm both fell, two of the greatest, most accomplished, and bravest generals that ever appeared in America, But the British gained the victory. The sixth was at Sillery. In] this battle Murray was defeated, and M. de Livy was victorious. The grand contest for wi>ich the war was begun, was now decided. The British nation and colonics, for more than seventy years had been endea- vouring to accomplish this work, but without success. A large country was now added to the British dominions^ and an end put to the depredations and ravages ef the Indian tribes : and the future prospects of the colonies bore the aspect of tranquillity, prosperity, rapid increase and improvement. AH these hopes seemed to be realized by the [treaty of peace signed at Paris three years afterwards. By this treaty the King of France ceded and granted to the British king in full right, the whole country of Canada with all its dependencies* TH£ END. *»iid*B: Piinted liy B. Lloyd, 12, ialiilmryijqusre, rieet-street. **>■>■ utified. I wil' arrv it beyonti ive." rew it into the n, and I would t, or the fishes out on a bench , and buried it s seivice over e body of the found a stone he head of the ;e these lovers 1 friend. But [ing and purer ^e after it was hardly needful liappier couple idge in which id with several i of her father, at the present vorthy couple ; distinguisned. ied in the case re umong the eat of Canada six years, and jh was equally Du Quesae, in e next contest taken prisoner, and Montcalm ch were com- iS of Abram, ed, and bravest victory. The . de Livy was w decided. )d been endea- ntry was now s and ravages i the aspect of hopes seemed lerwarda. By [ in full right.