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In due time and in perfect safety the " young ones" ■|rrived, under the careful escort of an uncle who iwned a farm not far from his brother-in-law's grant of md, and who had indeed been one of Mr. Ilolford's [hief inducements to setthiig in Upper Canada. And ^linnie's time was so completely taken up with the ii hi 12 ROSE AND MINNIE, r 1 care of them, and with assisting and directing oldHadoptc Mary in the management of household matters, thatHof Fel she found no more time for "gaping at*' the river, ■ her ar or anything else, for a while. Bwhen with 1 alder and d( the \yi CHAPTER 11. There were three of the "younger ones." Den- ham, a bright manly boy of twelve ; Ella, a fair-haired lassie close upon ten; and Harry, just passed his fifth birthday, whose first birthday had been his mother's dying day and had left the four children orphans. Since then the supervision of all things appertaining to the "young ones'* had devolved upon the elder sister, at that time herself but a little lass of thirteen, but thoughtful beyond her years. And having the while made good use of the excellent opportunities of learning all needful branches of a lady's education, which her father had afforded her, she was now no mean governess for Ella and Harry, nor even for Denham when aided and supple- mented by Mr. Holford. EuU of these now accustomed duties, and of man^ new and less familiar ones, the time did not lag with Minnie Holford in the littlefarmhouse by the Otonabee, and winter melted into spring, and spring passed into the hot, full-hued, magnificent Canadian summer, be- fore she was well aware how rapidly the time had flown. And if Minnie had begun to admire her newl) partly tenng all its summ( forest to reli( "0 walked " only here p "I A chu "Yi that, a yet I s doing Look seems long re mothei she ha ; I II: OR, THE LOYALISTS. 13 »> cting old ■ adopted country even in the frozen and bitter month tters, that ■ of February, much more did siie do so when she saw the river, ■her arrayed in the gorgeous hveries of June and July; when the rocky banks of the Otonabee were crowned with the waving and full-foliagcd branches of the alder and the birch, the cedar and the maple-tree, }ind decked with the soft hues of the Canadian rose the harebell, and the lady's slipper; when the glit- 1^6""! tering clearness of the crystal waves reflected in all its depth of radiant colour the intense blue of the summer sky, and the sombre grandeur of the vast forest gave the needful setting of dark back-ground to relieve and set ofl* all this wealth of brilliant colour. *' Only one thing is wanting, papa," she said as she walked with him by the side of the leaping river, " only one thing to make both this scene and our life here perfect in beauty and enjoyment." "I think I guess the thing you mean, Minnie. A church spire ! Am I not right ?" *' Yes indeed, papa. How increasingly one misses that, and all which its presence would imply. And yet I sometimes fear that one 'vill in time get used to doing without it, and cease to Tv-el desirous for it. Look at our good old Mary, now; how little she seems to care." " There is a reason for that over and above her long residence in the Bush. When she left your dcur mother's service to marry that thriftless Irishman, she half adopted his creed. Half only, — there was I. fair-haired 3assed his been his r children all things devolved srself but eyond her use of the d branches d afforded ■ Ella and lid supple- d of many )t lag with Otonabee, massed into mmer, be- had flown. her newly partly the mischief of it, for so she grew indifferent 14 ROSE AND MINNIE ; I ,7 n I'! ■ I u jo}'ful "I I US( there and p })rcve] have crectii vou (] to ace "^ the AVi duced to both sides. The youngest girl, you*' foster-sister, who, I hear, takes after the fatlier in person and character, Mary allowed to be brought up in the fnther's faith, and Rose is as staunch a Roman Catholic as Jessie is a Protestant. As for the mo- ther, she is a fnithful old soul, as she ever was, and right glad am I that I chanced to find her in this locality when I cnme out here, and so had the oppor- tunity of securing her services, but I fear she has halted between two opinions so long, that she has no particular religious faith of her own left." "Does the farm pay well, papa?" asked Minnie a little abruptly after a few minutes' pause." " Very fairly now that I am getting it into working order, and am following your uncle's directions andlmio-lit advice in my plans of farming. What are you think- ing of, little daughter ? some scheme is floating through your busy brain. Let me hear it." Minnie laughed at her father's quick reading of her countenance, and coloured a little. " I was only tliinking how nice it would be to set aside a portion of the income each year for the building of a church. ]^ut I am afraid you will laugh at my thought as a silly one." " Far from that, my child. I think it is a very right and good thought. We have been blessed with more success than often falls to the lot of new set- tlers, and it will be most ungrateful and undutiful if we do not return at least a tithe for the direct sei-|coun^ vice of the great Giver of our success." OR, THE LOYALISTS. 15 Gr-sister,| •son and! ) in thei Roman | the mo- was, and icr in tlnsl he oppor-j r she liasj )he has no !(1 Minnie] ;o working! ctions andi you think- ngthroughl reading of! I was only* e a portioiij f a church. I thought asi it is a veryl )lessed \vith| of new set- undutiful il 1 direct sei-l *'0h papa, will you really do it?" exclaimed Minnie joyfully. "Most certainly I will. A tenth of my income I used always to set aside for sucli purposes, and there is nothing in my present })osition, humbler and poorer though it be than was my former one, to prevent my doing the same now. I am glad you have suggested so good and definite an object as the (section of a church here. Only I hope, dear child, you do not anticipate that our sole eU'orts will be able to accomplish the work.'* *'No, I did not think that. But if one settler led the way it is very likely that many others would be in- duced to join in such a scheme, and their united eftbrts might raise a j)retty church, — like Weston Church." Minnie's eyes sparkled with deligL!. Her father smiled. "You must not hope for stained glass and carved j wood work the first year. Curb your enthusiastic I thoughts a little, my Minnie. You will have to be I content probably with small steps at first. And now that I may have the wherewith to contribute to these small steps, (and the larger ones too in due time,) I must go and superintend boy Jonathan and my [two hired ' helps' in the field." And so when the summer and autumn crops were Isafely in, and the Eall wheat sown, and winter (al- [though it held off until remarkably late that year) ^as impending, Minnie was called into her father's 3ouncils, and the first sum for the building of their 16 ROSE AND MINNIE ; J ) 1 ^3 I i ;:! • ■ I ■ I: f future parish church was laid by. It was the first Sunday in November, and though the day was frosty and cold, the first great fall of snow had not yet made its appearance, so that they turned out after a while and strolled up and down the river bank, without feeling inconvenienced by tlie cold. *' We will call our church 'All Saints,* papa," said Minnie ; "the day is but just past — last Wednesday; it will remind us of this happy commencement of the undertaking. Beautiful Otonabee, how much more dearly I shall love you when a church bell chimes over your waters !" " It is in this way that many of the churches have been provided in this country," said her father. " There is, alas ! but too much division here, and an alarming multiplicity of sects, but still here and therej are to be found steady and devoted sons of thel Church, who gradually leaven the neighbourhoodj around them. In due time I hope we may have oui own bishop for the Upper Province, and increase ourj scanty supply of clergy, which now, I am told, num bers under the hundred ; and for this wide expansi of country, which is becoming every half year mon and more thickly settled over, this is a sadly scant allowance. Our late revered Bishop, Dr. Stewartj felt this keenly, and it was undoubtedly the anxiet he felt about the spiritual needs of his vast and ill provided diocese which wore him out quite as muci as his excessive toils." but at las retur be en \\hicl provii] 11 wh itell loces "I low t see li OR, THE LOYALISTS. 17 " He was long in the country, was lie '\ot, papa, before he became IJishop of (iuebcc ?'* "Ever since the year 1807. And both as priest and bishop he has been one of the most zeah)us, devout, and successful missionaries that the Canadas have ever been blest with. He devoted the whole of liis private income to acts of cliarity and the needs of the Cliurch. lie was especially active in clmrch- budding, and he shrank from no labour, privation, or fatigue wliicli was necessary for tlie due fuhilling of his sacred tr'^f. Think, ^Minnie, of your own fatigue in travelling here, of those two long suc- cessive days spent in the ox-sleigh during the cold spring, and then you can somewhat imagine what missionary i)riests and bishops must have to go through, who endure such journeys, and harder and more perilous ones still, as the regular habit of their lives, and as a j)art of their sacred duties. The Bishop was I but in his sixty-second year when he was compelled lat last, by rapidly failing health, to resign his post and return to England, lie never allowed himself to [be embroiled in the political agitations and party strife Iwhich for some time past have been )'ife in both |l)rovinces, but especially in Lower Canada, and yet ill who met him felt that he took the most lively and iiitcUigent interest in the welfare and prospects of his liocese, both secular and ecclesiastical." ** lie must have been a splendid bishop, papa ! How many good bisho])s the colonies have had ! [t seems as if the hardships and rough life they 18 ROSE AND MINNIE; 1)1 \i 1 ;■ underwent made tliem, both in simplicity of manner and in single-hearted saintliness of purpose, resemble the primitive bishops more closely even than the bishops of the mother-country/' "Each man to his place, Minnie. Perhaps the excellent Biishop Stewart would not have made so good an English prelate/' Their conversation was here interrupted by the approach of the blanket-shrouded and not ungraceful figure of an Indian woman, who with the stealthy step coimnon to all the North American savages had gained upon them unawares. She did not speak, but stood before them in silence, at once dignified and respectful, until they cliose to notice her. She was somewhat small of stature, and slightly made. Her dark features were by no means devoid either of beauty or of pleasing expression, and were hghted up by a pair of large, dark eyes, in whose liquid depths you might read all the passing emotions of courage or timidity, love or aversion, which might be passing! in the mind of their owner. At the moment when! she presented herself before Mr. Ilolford and his daughter, their expression was one of exceeding! sorrow and depression. "What is it, Anoonk ?" said Mr. Ilolford, who! had already made acquaintance wiih her, and had experienced several little acts of graceful kindness at her hands when hunting in the vicinity of the Indian encampment. "You look sad to-day. Are] you in any trouble ?" I' '''i'v OR, THE LOYALISTS. 19 igraceful stealthy ages had peak, but iiied and She was de. Her either of ighted up id depths f courage )e passing: lent when: d and hisj exceeding Iford, who , and had I kindness lity of the day. Are! "Anoonk is sad/' answered the young Indian, in a measured and musical tone of voice that was more patlietic than the wihlcst outburst of Limentations. "For her it is dark m'ght even while the sun shines. And the lau^hiiif^ voice of the u:^v river does but sadden Anoonk the more. I'ur Sckoskee, tlic u'roat chief lier husband, lies sick. lie looks at her but lie does not know her, his liands are hot like pine- logs on the heartli, and he would drink all the waters of the lake could xVnooidv bring them txj him. The medicine-man cannot cure him. Anooid; has listened to the })ale-face preacher, and she trusts no more in the medicine-man.'" *^I am very sorry to hear that Sekoskee is so ill,*' said Mr. Ilolford kindly. " He has got a fever upon him, evidently, Anooi k. If it will be any comfort to you I will come and see him directly ; but remember I am no medicine-man. And pray, Anoonk, speak what English you can, for my dauglitir does not understand a word of your pretty hmguage yet, and I myself only understand half of what you say." Anoonk's rraceful and artless way of expressing her gratitude to the '^ Lofty Pine,*' as these Indians had called Mr. Ilolford, on account of his height and somewhat strtely bearing, quite won j\limiie's heart, who was already much prepossessed l)y the young squaw's interesting ai)pearance and sweet voice. "Let me go with you, papa," she pleaded; and after a little hesitation Mr. Ilolford consented. It [was a cold walk, for by the time they started it was 20 ROSE AND MINNIE; Hearing sundown, and the way lay over a bleak plain and through a dark and dismal cedar-swamp for the best part of the journey. But Minnie was so much in love with her new acquaintance that she declared she liked the chillness of the air arid the gloom of the swamp, and would on no account turn back under the escort of " boy Jonathan/' who chanced to be out that way, having been on the prowl for squirrels and chissmuidvs in the maple-wood beyond. On reach- ing the chicPs wigwam they found the unfortunate "Rising Sun" in a very bad state. Mr. Ilolford would not permit Minnie to go inside the wigwam, not being sure of the nature of the Indian's malady, so she was obliged to content herself with expressing to Anoonk many kind words of sympathy for her distress, and promising to prepare a large jug of I cooling drink which might help to allay his fever. Anoonk's lustrous eyes glistened with tearful delight as she heard Minnie's kind promise, and thought of! the good that might come of it. "White girl good to poor Indian sick," she said] in broken English, mindful of Mr. Ilolford's infor- mation touching Minnie's ignorance of the Indiaiil tongue. " Indian squaw forget never. "White girl sick, hungry, Anoonk run help her." And to| Miiniie's surprise the Indian slipped her pretty darkj arm round her neck and kissed the "white girl's"! cheek with great warmth. Not less heartily ditlj Minnie return the salute, and a strong friendshiji sprang up between the two from that day. By hiJ I j on, THE LOYALISTS. 21 Wigwam, i malady, ixpressiug y for her re jug of his fever, ful delight liought ofj /' she said] )rd's infor- the Indiaiil AVhite girlj ' And to pretty darli| father's desire she n frained from ai'ain visitini; tlie Indian encampment until all risk of fever and infec- tion was gone ; but tlie " Rising Sun" shook oH' his attack, severe though it had been for a time, and then tlie h'ght-footed Indian squaw was not more often to be seen about the precincts of the httle farm by the Otonabee than was the slender English girl (" White Cloud," as her new acquaintances called her,) to be seen tripping fearlessly through the groups of fierce-looking and somewhat uncouth Chip- pewa warriors in the Indian encampment, on her way to visit the pretty Anoonk, whose untaught courtesy and wild, but never rough ways, greatly entertained her Eimlish visitor. One reason for this growing intimacy was, that ^Minnie cherished a hope which she at present divulged to no one, — not even to her father, — the hope of winning Anoonk to Chris- tianity. She shrank from saying anything about it, from the fear that her attempting to do so might be presumptuous, young as she was, and not specially called to missionary work. But despite this fear, this hope took fast root beside the church- building hope, and lightened many an hour that might otherwise have been weary and aimless in the backwood farm by the Otonabee. heartily dial y friendship By h4 ay ! 22 ROSE AND MINNIE CIIAPTER III. r It was on the same Sunday evening in ^NTovember, 1837, when ^linnic first made acquaintance with Anoouk, that tliat foster-sister of liers who lias been several times mentioned, — byname Rose Kirkpatrick, — was flitting down a small bye-street of the St. Law-- rence suburb in the town of Montreal, with a light and hasty step. She paused halfway down the street^ and havini^ c^lanced throuu;h the half-curtained window of o]ie of the houses there, tapp hI at the door with three little distinct raps. It was quickly opened by the only person within, an old woman with that peculiar combination of very bright black eyes with peculiarly brown, wrinkled, and withered skin, so frequently seen among the elder female peasantry in France. The short petticoats she wore, the bright coloured shawl-kerchief pinned across her red boddice, the high white cap upon her head, together with the image of the Blessed Virgin, painted in blue and gold, which stood over the doorway, and the black crucifix fastened over the chimney-place, bespoke her Norman origin and Norman faith at a glance. She embraced the young girl, and kissed her on both cheeks. " Come in, Rose. I knew who it was, by the three little taps. Baptiste comes thundering in, — dear cliild ! — with one great knock, enough to bring the door down. Oh Rose, Rose, my heart is sore -■■* I in" h Bapti^ Th mothc by as Irish race, gainec \ OR, THE LOYALISTS. 23 )vember, ice with lias been jpatrick, St. Law- I a light le street I windov. loor with )enecl by ith that ;yes witli skill, so santry in le bright boddice, with the )lue and ;he black bespoke ance. i her on , by the ng in- to bring •t is sore about this boy — this dear boy of mine. Have you any comfort to bring me ?" She had drawn the Irish girl — for Rose was of Irish extraction by tlie father's side, and took miglitily after him, — to a low stool by her side, and was caressing tlie luxuriant masses of dark hair which were pressed against her knees as Rose rested her forehead there. The troubled expression on both the old and the young woman's face deepened as Pio^e gave her answer. ''Alas, motlier," — even amidst all her trouble the girl bhished at the epithet which liad slipped from her in their oneness of anxiety for the absent 13ap- tiste, — "I have no comfort to bring yoti ; I lioped you might have had some for me." " He has not been with you then, this evening?" " Ah, no ! and worse, I know wliere he is. He is at the house of John Idler, and there are manv more of les F'ds de la Liheric there to-night. They are drilling there again. Oh, where will all this end?" "The good God only knows. Night and morn- ing have I prayed to the Blessed Virgin for iny Baptiste. Listen, here he comes." The thundering single rap at the door which his mother had described, was answered on this occasion by a similar one from the interior given by the pretty L'ish visitor ; who, with the buoyant vivacity of her race, forgetting for the moment all her anxiety, re- gained her gaiety at the approach of her lover; and u mmt •MNM Its i! Ifi. 24 ROSE AND MINNIE ; ■J I >' springing from her low seat bestowed both her little clenched fists with mock fury upon the inside of the much-enduring door. Then opening it quickly, she stood with much demureness in the doorway. " \Yell, Monsieur Baptiste, and how do you think that sounds? Ah, well! and where also are your manners, startling two ladies after tliat fashion ?" " Dear little one !'* was Baptiste's brief reply, as, encircling her with his strong arm, he took lover-like vengeance upon her for her saucy rebuke by im- printing a kiss on the pouting lips. But, notwith- standing the gentleness of his manner towards Rose, the young man's clouded brow did not relax, nor did his face soften, except for an instant, from the ex- pression of stern fixedness which it had worn when the door was first opened to him. He crossed over the wooden floor of tlie little apartment, (the only marked difference between the dwellini^s of the French Canadian peasantry and those of Normandy, where the fioors are usually of stone,) and greeted his mother with even more tenderness than he had be- stowed upon Eose, but with equal gravity. Then followed a somewhat awkward pause. The oppression of his pre-occupied and somewhat gloomy mood weighed upon both his companions, though they did not like openly to comment upon it; whilst he soon became instinctively conscious that he was being watched by two pair of affectionate and anxious eyes. Eose endured this restrained interview for but a short time, and bidding her future mother- OR, THE LOYALISTS. or, in-law adieu, with hearty embraces she took her leave. "I shall go with you, my pretty Hose," said Baptiste; and side by side tlie lovers walked back to the town. Neither spoke for awhile, though Baptiste from time to time looked down with a mo- mentary lightening of his sternness at the plump, pretty little figure tripping along beside him. Rose was the first to break the silence. '* Baptiste," she said, with all that peculiar earnest- ness which contrasts so strongly and frequently with Irish vivacity, " there has been something more than usual going on at John Idler's to-niglit. Oh Baptiste, my own dear Baptiste, for your mother's sake and for mine, have nothing to do with those men. Why should you join them ? What liberty do you want more than we have? What greater I happiness than our peaceful and pleasant life? Ex- cept," she added, with a deepening blush, "that we sliould spend it quite together, with no breaks and [no partings, as we shall do soon." "Dear little one, you know nothing about it," |was her companion's answer. "But, Baptiste," she urged, "let me then know something. Answer my questions. What greater liberty, what greater happiness do you and your com- )anions want ?" "Again I say, my little Eose, that you know lothing, and can know nothing; you women only tare for happiness, and if you get but a little of that, 26 ROSE AND min::ie (,; I li you are content. "We men, on the contrary, care for much more j we want not only hnppinoss, but our full share of it ; we want freedom, and our rights also as well ; we do not love to pay our money for great })ensions to people of high place, or to have land which should be ours kept back to supi)ort the Protestant ministers. AVe will not be kept in sLwisli subjection to a set of bad rulers chosen for us by the Queen's government, who know nothing of our wants, and only care to get the places, the pny, and the power. Let us choose for ourselves ; let us tax our- selves ; let our taxes be to benefit ourselves -, let us choose our own rulers ; in a word, let us have freedom, for without freedom there can be no happiness. Ex- cept," he added, breaking short in his oratorical flow of wisdom, and speaking with the gentleness he always used to his betrothed, "except for the good children, like my Eose, who are easily content.^' " But you see I am not content," answered Rose half sadly, half archly. "I do not understand all your fine reasons for being discontented ; and so with- out reason, and for want of reason, I am sharing the same discontent. O Baptiste, Bapliste! do notj CO to these drills. Leave these men altoj'-etlier. Do not listen to them, do not belong to them, I implore you. Listen rather to what the good father says.— Alas," she added, checking herself and speaking yet I more sadly, " but you no longer come to mass ! i And you have not heard the beautiful letter, written I to us all by the Bishop, telling us to have nothing to OR, THE LOYALISTS. 27 do with these disturbers of the peace ! Bnptiste, all this is separating us, will separate us quite some day. My heart mijigives me." And the warm- hearted Irisli girl burst into a flood of tears. . "j\Iy little Eose, you excite yourself too much. Why should this separate us? True, I have been too much occupied to go to church quite regularly," and liap- tiste averted his head uneasily, to hide a mantling flush upon his cheek which he could not (piite keep down; "but we, — we Sons of Liberty, — have a trrrat work to do. There are some who do not under- stand us, — as, for instance, that execrable man who has issued a warrant against our glorious leaders, Papineau and the others. Also," he addi-d with a half smile, "the good little Hose does not quite understand us. But when the brave Sons of Liberty have accomplished their work, then she will perceive how great it was, and she will glory in her Baptiste. Will she not?" They had reached Eose's destination as he spoke. ** Adieu, Baptiste. I shall love you always," she Isaid, tenderly and evasively. "And may the good God and all the saints guard and instruct you !" And so sadly and downcast, all her lighthearted- Iness clouded and her gaiety fled, Rose parted from [this young "Son of Liberty" who had so glorious la work to do ; while he strode home again, ill at ease [with her, himself, and all the world. The foretaste Ihe was getting of liberty was not quite so sweet as he had anticipated. i! 28 HOSE AND MINNIE ! ) 1 ■ ;i| "While Baptiste tosses unea!?ily on his pillow, mingling dreams of his pretty Hose in strange confusion with visions of muskets and flags of liberty, — alias rebel- lion, — of gloomy drillings and exciting " liberty ^' speeches, it may not be amiss to give a somewhat clearer idea of the Canadian " grievances," (so called,) than could be gathered from the mi.^guidcd lad^s own speech to his betrothed. The chief grievance, according to their own ac- count, given in the celebrated "Grievance Book/' lay in *Uhe unlimited patronage of the Crown^ and the abuse of that patronage by the Colonial Ministers." This branched out into a multitude of heads; each of which soon became an independent grievance of it- self. The election of the members of the executive and legislative councils, of the officers of the Lower House and of the Indian department, and olher State patronage, all swelled the list of complaints. It was asserted by the agitators, and not altogether without reason, that tlie " Tamily Party " as they were called, i. e. the original settlers and their families, held too exclusively all the best and most lucrative official situations, and that the provinces were thus governed by a clique who looked after their own interests rather than the public weal. So greatly did the Ee volutionists magnify this abuse, that they were ready in their wisdom to throw off their allei^iance to the English government and to precipitate themselves into the arms of the United States, with all the prospect of obtaining for themselves a King Stork OR, THE LOYALISTS. 29 iningUng loii with 1^5 rebel- liberty '' omewhnt ) called,) ad's own I own ac- [)ok," lav and the inisters." each of ice of it- executive le Lower tlier State ;. It was 3r without ere called, , held too ve official 5 governed I interests id the Ee- rt'ere ready nee to the themselves th all the [ing Stork in exchange fur — we will not be so disloyal as to say a King Log, but what they considered to be a King Log. Another sore point, which like the former had many oft'sJioots, was the alleged mal- administration of the public moneys of the land. Tiie j)ension-list, the expenses of King's College, (now I the University of Toronto,) and the Upper Canada College, as well as the money granted in aid of I emigration, wore some of the chief branches of the money grievance : while that concerning the land embraced both the disposal of the waste lands of the Crown to emigrants, and also the much-vexed ques- tion of the Clergy Reserves, which amounted to a seventh part of the lands surveyed throughout Upper Canada. That many of these things needed n^form cannot be denied, but that the mode of obtain- ing reform pursued by the Radicals was a right, or as regards the leaders of the rebellion an honest- hearted one, admits of still less question. There can be hardly a doubt that these leaders were actuated by a restless and selfish ambition, and only made use of the pretexts summed up in the " Grievance Book " as a cloak for their own self-aggrandising projects. But amongst their followers were men of very various shades of character, impelled by very various motives. Some might be in their measure and degree as selfish, restless, and ambitious as the heads of the move- ment, but many more were simply ignorant and misled, like Baptiste Lemourier. "With a brow as gloomy as that with which he had 30 ROSE AND MINNIE; I forwai of the forenc ness 1 cliaiigi from 1 sealed mured child-l appear uncoul Virgin garlaiK reiiuiai gone to rest, and a licart full of uneasy foreboding*,! Baptiste rose on the following morning. Rose's words came back to his memory with all the force of a prophecy. "Baptiste, this is separating — will separate us quite some day.'* He tried to put them away as the mere idle fears of an ailectionate and ignorant girl, but again and again they returned upon him, as also did her naive and simple questions as to what greater liberty or happiness he wanted. Questionings arose in his own mind as to whetherl they had indeed a fair cause and the blessing of God upon their undertaking. He remembered within himself that he had intentionally stayed away from Mass, because he did not wish to hear what the good father so often and so strongly said on thel devotic subject of the growing discontent and the bind-B The ing together for what the priest roundly termedBthan 1 "unlawful purposes," which this good man had, toBjie we bis no small grief, observed among some of hisBfast. flock. Tor, to their credit be it remembered, tlieBof hin lloman Catholic clergy, with one or two solitary ex-|[britrht ceptions, were most eriV^iest in the cause or loyaltv and order, from the nruch-revered Bishop IMacdoii nell to the humblest oi the parish priests. All these thoughts working on Baptiste/s naturally honest and conscientious mind, brought him to the resolution o( withdrawing from his present companions as soon as he could. But he could not back out of the compact in any underhand way. Against such a proceeding some of his best quaUties revolted, — his straight "Tl thee, much intendf as he that m a love The OR, TUE LOYALISTS. 31 forwardness, braver}^, and lioiic^t pride. A meeting of the Flls de la Llberte was to be held that very forenoon. Thither he vvouhl go, and with all open- ness and fairness would tell his comrades of his change of intention, and would publicly withdraw from the association. His resolution thus taken, he sealed it by a '' Pater noster " and an '* Ave," mur- mured hastily, yet not without a certain touching, child-like wish to do right and fulfil that which appeared to him in the light of a duty, before an uncouth little black-brown image of the Blessed Virgin beside whose pedestal still rested a blue head- garland and a drooping wreath of the same colour, remnants of old Jacqueline Lemourier's j\lay-tide devotion to *' Our Lady.'* Then with a gayer step and a cheerier face than had belonged to him for many a month past, he went in to his homely but substantial break- Ifast. His mother's face brightened at the sight I of him, — brightened doubly when she saw how Ibright he was. "The walk with the pretty Rose was good for Ithee, my child," she observed gaily, unwitting how much nearer to the truth her words went than she liutended. "Pretty and good," was Baptiste's cheerful answer las he saluted his mother. "It reijices me to see [that my mother, as well as I myself, bears so tender love for my Eose." The meal was a quiet but a happy one, Baptiste's ^! 32 ROSE AND MINNIE; inward satisfaction communicating itself to Jacqueline | witliout her having any distinct reason for this change | of mood. As soon as it was concluded, he slipped I away, end contrived to get a hurried interview with Rose, to whom he at once told his intention of with-j drawincj from the association of the Sons of Liberty. I If anything could have rewarded him, the glad smilesl and approving words of his betrothed must have donc| so, to say nothing of some other pleasant tokens ofj allection and renewed confidence. A few hours later found Baptiste wending his wayi tow^^rds the a})pointed place of rendezvous, — namely, i tlie yard of Bonacina's tavern in front of the Ame-| rican Presbyterian Churcli in Great St. James's- street. He was a little behind the aj)pointed timeJ and when he entered the yard he found the rest of| his confreres, to the number of two-hundred-and-| fifty, already assembled, and listening witli deep attention to an inllammatory and vehement speech which was being addressed to them by one Thomas] Storrow Brown. ''Patriots of Canada," he was saying as Baptistej joined the throng, '' shall we remain any longer passive and inert ? Shall we any longer suffer our-j selves to be trampled down by the heel of oppres- sion ? Shall we tamely endure the ignominy putl upon our leaders and upon our noble cause by tlitj j)roceedings of Lord Gost'ord ? Shame be to us ill we do. Alreadv we have remained inactive too \ousi,\ and have suil'ered the Lion to trample upon the] OR, THE LOYALISTS. 33 Beaver", to our shame and disgrace. Let us rouse ourselves, brave Sons of Liberty, and assert our riglits. Let us shew the tyrant that we are not to be de- spised, nor our just demands refused. Sons of Liberty, let us go forth and carry all before us." There was much more to the same effect, and eve; as he spoke the excitement and restlessness of the crowd grew to a higher and hii^her pitch, until at length their enthusiasm was so raised that they were ready for any exploit, however foolish or daring. And the word of command being given, they sallied forth full of magnificent courage to " assert their rights" and "liberate their country.^' Thrown out of his original plans by this simul- taneous movement, Baptiste, though unwillingly, fell into the ranks. He had had no opportunity of announcing his determination of withdrawing from them, and to do so without having aiiuounced it was repugnant to his feelings of honour and faith towards his comrades, ill-chosen though these had been.. Besides, it would have looked cowardly to shnk off just f>t the nif^me ! of action and danger. So that, albeit with renewed feelings of regret and uneasiness, and with ul), the peculiar bitterness of having seen an error and made resolutions of amend- ment too late, he marcl ed on with the exulting band of revolutionists. Great as was tlie alarm with wliich the sigl't of so large a body of armed incurgcTits insj-lrec' tli^ peace- • The emblem of Oanadri, f^imm '! I . I 34 ROSE AND MINNIE ; ii'l able inhabitants of Montreal, their first exploit was neither very noble nor calculated to produce any results but that of arousing the indignation of the loyalists. It consisted in shooting at and slightly wounding an unoil'ending carpenter of the name of Whitelaw. Though this glorious act, however, in L • way advanced the reforming cause, it was sut- ficient to draw down upon les Flh de la Liberie the vengeance of a)i opposite association called '' The Doric Club," in wliich were enrolled most oi the young loyalists of Montreal. These spcediiy rol- lecting ill large numljers, fell upon the rebels; **.\d soon in the midst of the fray a cry of des])ait rose from their ranks, "General Brown is taken prisoner." The passions of both parties were now u;v Tiie so-called General was rescued from the hand> of the Dorics, and the contemptible mob-vengeance of window-breaking was commenced in good earnest by the Sons of Liberty aloncf the whole of St. James- street. In this puerile and base mode of warfare Baptiste took no part. lie had been foremost in the rescue of tlieir overpowered leader, but stone- Hinging he held lo be beneath a Lemourier, for poor and peasants though they were, Baptiste cherishe'l a certain not unwholesome pride of family, whicl had for generations borne an honest and good name, both in 1' ranee and Canada; had rendered faith- ful service to their seigneurs, and had maintained (alas ! for the degeneracy of Baptiste) a fair chu' racter for loyally to the government undrc whici I lliey but drov St. I made their figlit hand Bapt heart opeiK 'ireak I'renc ;ige t slirriu be ni\ (•J:iCLr inent watcl he L.' inc'-; d(,.Va :ca'1v his cu of the o])pcn ria'^c r cf lii-l B;-j)-K Biiroij OR, THE LOYALISTS, 35 loit was uce any 1 of the sliglitly le name however, was sut- ; Lihcvte ed '' The =;t ot the ;cliiv rol> % s])air vosc p\'isoner/' ^?- fn ne they lived. The success of the rebels, however, was but temporary. The loyalists quickly rallied and drove General Brown's forces before them into the St. Lawrence suburb. Hero Ics Flls de la Liberie made a stand in Dorclicster-street, and turning on tlieir pursuers with redoubUxl fury, recommenced tlie fight in good earnest, and in the mch'e foe met foe hand to hand. This was a style of vvarfire which Baptisto did not at least despise, and tliougli at heart he still disapproved, — his eyes yet further o^iened, perhaps, by that little episode of window- hreaking, — it was hardly possible for a vivacious French Canadian of but thiee-and-twenty years of ■jn-e to maintain anvlhini^ like neutralitv when such stirring work was going on on every side. *'It will be my last and only fight on this side/' he mentally (jaculated; *' afier this one unfortunate entangle- ]i:ent, Ptose, my mother, and loyalty shall be my watchwords." And having made this inward resolve, lie h't j ).: ~'jlf drift with the present tide of excite- mc' i;:.u r(^[\')id the blows which were showered dc/.Vii '^1/11 his party by the Dorics with full and leady imcres.. Suddenly a littlt; lailing oil' among cherishe'.ll his comrades left Baj)tiste Lemourier in the forefront ily, whicllof the fight, and face to face with a tall and slight rood name,! Quickly and daintily the potarjc was served, although in homely fashion. But though it was gratefully partaken of by the half-frozen and fa- mished Baptiste, and though his mother's reception! of him meltt'd a portion of the dark cloud of despair which had gathered over him, that terrible reckless- ness of mood was not dispelled. Jac(pu'line's observant eye saw that something was I still weighing heavily on his mind, and when, after having eaten slightly of her long-kept supper, he| rose, and said gloomily, " I must away again, mo- ther," she was not surprised, although she received! the announcement with a sit^li from out of the very depths of her already sorely tried heart. She did not oppose his going. She knew — rumour has such] swift broad wings — all about the afternoon's events, includini^ the hand-to-hand skirmish between her sonl and the Baron de Chauvin. She only said, " So soon, my child! And what can thy mother do for thee?"| " She can pray for her lost son," said Baptiste] with a faltering voice ; " she can believe him less! wicked and reprobate than others will call him I she can cherish him in her heart in spite of all his faults." " She does all this," responded Jacqueline, tenderlyi Then added with ready tact, " And she will do he| best that the pretty Rose shall do it also as well." Baptiste shook his head, while a spasm as of acut^ OR, THE LOYALISTS. 43 pain passed over liis fine features. He bent down and kissed her fervently. "The c^ood God bless thee, my mother, for thy love," he murmured, and left the cottage precipitately. She had touched inadvertently upon the sorest chord of all, and pained when she would fain Imve consoled. If Rose could but have s[)()ken such words herself, all might have been well, but in the absence of that certainty which this alone could give, her lover^s doubting, and perhaps not unnatural, thoughts concerning her, were the goad that spurred him desperately on in his mistaken course. The iiiext day found him on the opposite bank of the river in company with a little baml of armed pea- .santry, some of them fugitives from Montreal, like I himself, who having once broken bounds and brought themselves under the stigma of rebellion, were ready for any further violence; and more than ever enger for success, in the hope that if it did not justify their cause to themselves and all the world, it would at least save them from punishment, and by the triuuiph of their party earn for them some kind of reward. And ere the week so inauspiciously commenced at Montreal was out, in L'Acadie, and all along the [banks of the Richelieu, the insurgents appeared in [arms, committing numerous acts of depredation and plunder in the name of liberty; while the regular nil tary, as well cs the volunteers, were called out maintain the cause of law and order. 41 ROSE AND MI^NIE; CHAPTER IV. With the break of day on Tuesday morning, Rose also was up and stirring, and as soon as the duties of| domestic service allowed her so to do, she hurried down to the cottage of her future mother-in-law. It was a painful meeting to both herself and Jac- queline. Each had some additional piece of ill ne\vs| to give and receive, and old Jacqueline's fortitude, unsustained Ly her son's presence or the necessity! of doing anything for him, often broke down in a| burst of mournful lamentations. The most heart- breaking thing to both was a short letter which had been delivered into Rose's hand just as slie wasl setting out to go to Jacqueline. It was from P '».| tiste, not in his own handwriting, but writte liis dictation by a more accomplished friend. Iiil it were briefly expressed all the miserable suppo- sitions over which he had been brooding during! tlie previous niglit. It concluded with saying, "that as Rose had cast him off," (thus at once converting his own mistrustful supposition into a certainty,) " he was resolved never again to return to INIon- treal. And that as he considered himself now irre- trievably embarked in the reforming cause, he haJj joined a band of his companions who were on tlieir way to the Custom-house at St. John's, andl should prove himself active in the oidy course that was left him.'' Long and bitterly the women wept over this mis- OR, THE LOYALISTS. 45 Live. "All, wliy did he liavo m little coTindcnce in lie? I pleaded with him earnestly on Sunday night; )ut I said nothing harsh, — believe me, dear Jacque- line, I said nothing harsh." She seemed to recollect lerself with a start. *' Ah me ! I remember now. said something about his being a Jils c/e la Lt/jerte [separating us ! Is it possible that he could so utterly have misunderstood me as to think that 1 desired juch a separation ? Alas, mother ! if sOj I have sent your son away from you by my thoughtlessness. )h, mother, mother ! do not reproach me, do not late me. For I have sent him away from myself too ; and T, tco, am desolate, — oh, so desolate !" She need not have feared ; reproaches wei >; not in Tacqueline's nature for any one, least of all for her son's betrothed. Besides, she felt sure that even (lad Hose's words had the effect she f(>ared, those rords were guiltless of any such intent. Jacqueline R'as a woman, and she could read a woman's heart )etter than her son could ; she did not doubt for moment that Hose's clinging affection would have )utlasted many a darker and more aggravated fault than any of which the misled and impetuous Bap- liste had yet been guilty. "Mother," said Hose, after a time, "there is no ise in our any longer remaining here, and there may )e great danger to you possibly as Baptiste's mother. Madame Lavale has told me that she no longer needs ly help, because she saw me on Sunday evening with bptiste. We will go together up the river^ and !- 46 ROSE AND MINNIE ; 'i I 'I make our way to iny own motlier and my sister Jessie. They will gladly receive us, and advise us| what to do for our Baptiste." After a little discussion this plan was agreedl upon. They got together what few things they could })ut into small compass, and ])repared to| start up the river at the first opportunity. Jac- queline was acquainted with a man who frequently conducted some of the peculiar flat-bottomed lateauk used on that part of the St. Lawrence up to Kings- ton : and he readilv consented to stow her and Eose with their few goods into some boats which he was to take up the river in the course of a few days. These boats are verv liu-ht, beinu; made of bircli-bark, and terminate in a point at each end. They are pro- pelled by oars and sails, and carry also drag-roj)es for! towing, and long poles for setting them through \\\\ strong currents or rapids which they have to en- counter on Iheir wav. Thev mostlv co in little hri- V V V o gades of from four to fifteen boats together, for tin sake of rendering mutual assistance in the rapi(^, each boat beiniJ!; managed bv four or five men. A;'« iu)sc's late employer was in a hurry to be (]ui\: of her since she had discovered her cojinection witij r)aj)iiste, she at Jacqueline's invitation took up liel abode at the old woman's house. It was a sad, uii- settled time for all in the perturbed districts, buj saddest of all for those who, like Hose and Jacquelinej had near and dear actors enu;aii;ed in the strugul I' &"o^ '&::■ Day by day fresh accounts came in of the terribl laudatc reconn: would invadei Tlionia the 1110 round Iponenti I the lea( ftlie Gc laud flu from B suspect on acc( less dis site pai Baptist only to ture fr( i OR, THE LOYALISTS. 47 encounters between the military and tlie insurgents, with varying success on either side. One day tlie tidings were that the armed peasantry had seized tlie chateau of a Monsieur Dcbartzch, residing, and hold- ing lands as seigneur, at St. Charles; that the rebel leader had feasted himself and liis men, to the number of 1,400, within the walls of the dismantled chuteau ; had cut down the finest trees on the manor, and had forced the seigneur to fly for his life on horseback ; and that a liberty-pole surmounted with tlie cap of [Liberty had been set up at the same place, with the laudatory inscription, " u Pii})ineau par scs concitoycns recomiaissans." Another day the very opposite news would be brought, to the eil'ect that the audacious invader of the Chuteau Dcbartzch, namely General ThonuiS Storrow l^rown, with the prime leader of the movement, Papineau, had fled from their vantage- I ground before an inconsiderable number of their op- ponents; that numerous arrests had been nuide of the leaders and chief men among the rebels ; and tliat the Government was gaining the day. Tiius ebbed and flowed the fierce tide of civil war. [Separated from Baptiste, ami unable to obtain any news of him, suspected and distrusted by their loyali:?t neighbours on account of their connection with him, and hardly less distrusted by those whom they knew of the oppo- isite party on account of their known disapproval of [Baptiste's present course, Jaccpieline and Bose were [only too glad when the day arrived for their depar- fture from Montreal. It was an arduous undurtuk- 48 ROSE AND MINNIE; ing for two women, poor, ignorant, and unaccus- tomed to travelling, to go so great a distance by them- selves, especially after leaving the bateau at Kings- 1 ton. But in due time and without any signal mis- haps they accomplished their journey, and, unexpected I visitors though they were, received a hearty and ready welcome at Weston Farm, as Mr. Holfordhad named his place in memory of his former Enghsh home. As there was not room enough for tht a'o new-comera among so many children in Mr. Holford's house, | Rose and Jacqueline were passed on to the tene« ment owned by John Kirkpatrick, Rose's brother,! who lived but a stone's throw from Mr. Holford's house, and having but his young wife and baby to accommodate, had plenty of space for his sister andl her old friend. Great was the excitement produced by Rose's ac* count of the insurrection in the Lower Province,i among these dwellers in the Bush. Foi tliough MaC'j kenzie and others had long been busy in fanning the| embers of discontent in Upper Canada, no overt move- ment had as yet taken place there, and as news traJ veiled but slowly and uncertainly to the remote banksl of the Otonabee, the settlers there were not at all awarel of the extent or degree to which the revolutionarj] agitation had been carried in either Province. They were not destined, however, to remain longl in ignorance upon this point, for the refugees froml Montreal had been with them but a few days when! a proclamation issued by the Lieutenant-Governor arj OR, THE LOYALISTS. 49 unaccus" by them- t Kings- ;nal mis- lexpected md ready H ad named oine. As I iW-coiners! [*s house,, the tene. s brother, Holford'sj d baby to| sister and| Rose's ac Province,! )ugh MaC'l mning \h\ vert move-l news tra-| lote banbj it all aware rolutionarj ;e. main long! ugees from days when! )vernor ar rived, which both announced the celebrated outbreak of the 4th of December at Toronto, and also called upon all loyal subjects, in the Queen's name, to join in forcibly putting down the rebellion. Minnie's cheek paled visibly. " Must you go, papa, and leave us all by ourselves ?'* " My child, we must all do our duty, and summon up our best courage that we may do it cheerfully, — I by going to aid the besieged city, and you by being brave and diligent for a little while alone at home. Alone, though, you will not be, for our good stout-hearted Mary is a host in herself, and ' boy Jonathan,' as we call him, is a strapping youth, and steady withal. Cheer up, little daughter ; I shall be back as soon as I can, of that you may be very sure. )) Very earnestly did all that little congregation join in the prayer " For the time of War and Tu- mults," which Mr. Ilolford read that night in the course of the evening service : for so anxious was this good Churchman that his children should not grow up with that indifference to all fixed forms and sound principles of religion which too often ends in indiffer- ence to all principles of religion whatever, and is one of the chief dangers of a Bush life, removed as it usually is from the reach of the Church's ministra- tions, that he took upon himself the office of deacon, and read Matins and Evensong every day to his family. The next morning rose cold and lowering, the ll 50 ROSE AND MINNIE; i; I • weather appearing to sympatliize with the clnldren's downcast and despondent feelings at the departure of their father. Minnie and Denham accompanied him through the wood to their uncle's house, who had sent down a messenger on the previous evening to make this arrangement. Here a couple of sleighs were in readiness, each capable of holding six persons, and harnessed to a pair of Mr. Irvin's best horses. Tor " Uncle Henry" was a loyalist to the backbone, a bachelor, and a prosperous settler of many years standing in that township, so that his time, money, and energies were altogether at his own disposal; and most zealously had he thrown them into the service of the State at this trying moment. Three or four gentlemen who lived yet farther back in the Bush than the Holfords and ^Ir. Irvin, had already joined the expedition; and as they went along it was arranged that other settlers living in the neighbour- hood, towards the south-west, should be picked up by Mr. Irwin's extra sleigh, as they passed in that direction. ]\Iuch as j\Ir. Hoi ford felt the parting from his children, and anxious as he was about their well- being whilst he was away, it was impossible to resist the feeling of exhilaration which soon stole over every member of the little band thus hastily sum- moned at the distant cry of war, — an exhilaration j partly caused by the very difficulties with which they had to contend in this their first outset; for it was no smooth country road over which they were to| OR, THE LOYALISTS. 51 travel. The dark pine-forest, whose tall black tops swayed and clashed together with a moaning sound as the bitter wind swept ceaselessly through them, lay before them, and in many places the drifts and waves of snow lay knee-deep and more, while many a treacherous hole, they well knew, yawned on cither side, in which a luckless horse might be absolutely buried in the piled- up flakes if he chanced to swerve from the right track. Nevertheless, true EngHsh- meii as they were, the very dangers and toils of the way dispelled the sadness which several of them felt at leaving their homes and families, and roused a spirit of cheerful daring and determination which set at defiance the gloom of the weather and the occasion. Wrapped up in fur caps and rough gloves, mocassins and undressed deer-skin cloaks, they felt but did not fear the freezing wind, and as one and another of the volunteer recruits joined the party, their good spirits rose yet higher, and friendly greetings and pleasant jokes were merrily bandied about. As they got nearer to the scene of action, however, grave and saddening tidings reached them all along their route; tales of violence and depredation already committed by Mackenzie's rebel army, — of waggons, cattle, and other suj)plies forcibly seized from unwilling loyalists, and lonely farm-houses visited with lawless purposes by these misguided men. Tiie feeling of the country in general was evidently against them, but it was as evident that the machinations of the crafty leaders of the movement had got together a large arid powerful ^^mrmmmm i 02 ROSE AND MINNIE ; body of malcontents, and that many valiant and loyal lives would most probably be sacrificed ere the re- bellion could be crushed and the blessings of p'^ace restored to Upper Canada. On their arrival at Toronto the little party from the Otonabee found themselves but one of many similar and larger reinforcements which had been, and still were, flocking into the city from all quarters in answer to the proclamation of the Lieutenant- Governor. The market-place of the town, a sub- stantial and loopholed building, above which is the town-hall, was converted into the citadel and head- quarters of the loyalist army, and well stored with grape-shot, ball-cartridges, bayonets, and other war- like stores, offensive and defensive. Here might be seen the citizens of all classes, judges and councillors, merchants and mechanics, together with the country gentlemen, farmers, and labourers from a distance, motley in dress and even in accoutrements, but uni- form in determination and loyal purpose. And among them, thinking it no derogation to his sacred office to take part in such a cause, might often be seen the earnest, dignified, and laborious Archdeacon of Toronto, Dr. Strachan, so soon to become the first Bishop of Toronto. Not that he took active part in the military proceedings, as did the chief laymen of the city ; that would have been unbecoming his position ; but in every way that was consistent with his office he supported the loyalists and en- couraged them by his personal influence, which had I OR, THE LOYALISTS. 53 great and deserved weight throughout the entire province. The events of the next few days at and near To- ronto are too well known to need a detailed recital. IIow the veteran Colonel Moodie was first sliot by the rebels while attempting to ride down Yonge- street into the city, and afterwards dragged into Montgomery's Tavern, and cruelly insulted in his (lying moments; how Dr. Home's house, situate near the toll-gates, was burnt by the insurgents, MacktMizie himself personally superintending this proceeding ; how on Thursday, the 7th of December, the lovijiist forces rode out and succeeded in dislodging the rebels and putting them to ignominious (light, burning their stronghold, namely Montgomery's Tavern, and entirely dispersing their army, — are matters of recent history, and must be fresh in the minds of many. But although this particular attack of the malcontents was defeated, the hydra-headed monster — " sedition, privy con- spiracy, and rebellion" — was not crushed ; and those who had so readily banded toicether to maintain the cause of order and loyalty, as readily remained, pre- pared to meet the next move of their adversaries. And here I may remark in passing, that this strife in Canada was yet another instanc^ of the trutli and wisdom with wdiich our Liturgy has been framed, in connecting so closely " sedition, privy conspiracy, and rebellion " with " false doctrine, heresy, and schism." For the Cliurch, including both its lay and ecclesiastical members, was from first to last mi^ 54 ROSE AND MINNIE; i !■ ■1 I most markedly on tlie loyal side ; and it was re- marked by thouglitful observers who were in Canada at the time, that the majority of those who joined the movement (at least in Upper Canada) were young men who had been brought up without any fixed religious notions at all, as in those days of extensive settling and limited Church action either in the way of schools, pastors, or places of worship, was the case with but too large a [)roportion of the then rising generation. The Church left her children to stray in that beautiful and fertile wilderness as sheep without a shepherd, until those who had left the mother- country as good and orderly Church people became careless and indifferent for lack of the means of irrace and the pastoral labours that might have ke])t them cari'ful. Church j^eople as conscientious, devout, and well-educated as Mr. Ilolford do not form the majority of those who yearly emigrate to our western colony, though happily for themselves and the new country, there are an increasing immber of this type. But the larger part are the })oor and the half- educated, well-disposed it is true in many instances to be led right, but not capable of keeping either them- selves or their children steadily in the truth without some aid, and v^y liable — that aid wanting — to be led into any scliism or heresy, however extravagant. And accordingly we find camp-meetings, Millerism, !Metho(lism, D.ividism, and a hundred other strange sects, with their false and often blasphemous excite- ments, seducing those who would in all probability OR, THE LOYALISTS. 6($ have remained true children of tiie Church if tliey had been provided with more of her care. But to return to our story. CHAPTER V. Meanwhile the da^s s^pent so busily and actively by the absent father at Toronto, past^ed slowly and sadly, albeit busily too, with the children at We.^ton farm. " Minnie," Denham had said as they walked back through the frosty woods on the morning of the 5th of December, '*you must let me do all I can to help you manage things while })apa is away. I know I am not old enouii-h nor biu* enou!i;h to do so much as I should like, and you will, after all, have most of the burden to beiir, but vou must let me help you all I can. Will you, Min?" There were tears, as much of suddenly roused fondness and ail'ectionate pride as of sadne.^s, in Minnie's eyes as she kx/kcd down at her ytjung brother's bright, earnest face, so like Mr. Ilolford's, with its broad forehead and lari-e blue eves. The boy was possessed by an enthusiastic admiration of, and a chivalrous devotion to, his pretty Tind graceful elder sister, — feelings which she returned witli a love and a pride in his noble looks and still nobler qualilies, which were almost motht-rly. "You are always a help and comfort to me, Den- ham," she replied, putting her hand into his, " and 66 ROSE AND MINNIE ; never more so than now." They were too down- hearted and too anxious about their father as well as themselves to say much more just then. And so they walked home hand in hand, gaining courage and confidence from tliat tacit compact of mutual help and support. How well that compact was kept the sequel will shew. The weeks rolled on and Christmas Day arrived, and yet they l;ad no tidings of their absent father, for the only letter which he had been able to send to them had been intercepted on its road by the rebels. It was but a cheerless Christmas Day, though Minnie did her best to make it bright for the younger ones. Nor was she the only anxious elder in the party, — old Mary's face wore a look of trouble which had a more immediately personal source than th(! anxiety of the family whoin she served; and Minnie, always thoughtful for others, was not long in discern- ing tlie cause. "You are anxious about Eose, Mary," she ob- served sympathizingly, following the direction of Mrs. Kirk Patrick's eyes, which kept glancing aside from the snvoury dinner which she was dishing to the little woodhouse across the yard, where her youngest daughter was busy gathering up a few light dry chips in her apron wherewith to replenish the fire. *' She frets about Baptiste Lemourier,'' said Mary, with a heavy sigh. " She says nothing and she does not cry, but she weeps inwardly, and it's kiUing her. Miss Minnie. Look at her face. — Hush ! here she OR, THE LOYALISTS. 57 ^1 com'?s.'* And Mary turned all her attention and looks upon her gravy and vegetables, as Hose re- entered the kitchen. It was true enough that the poor girl's face shewed signs of sufTering, which were but too plainly visible even to less anxiously observant eyes than her mother's. The plump outline of the laughing cheek was thinned, and much of its bloom was gone ; the merry lips which used to be always parting with some laughing sally or gleeful smile were now closed with an expression of mournful pa- tience and determination to endure which was very sorrowful to see. She was a special favourite with ^linnie. There was a certain naive and childlike sim- plicity about her which won upon Minnie more, upon the whole, than did Jessie's sedateness and slightly self-conscious wisdom. Her sad looks pained this good little woman, and took away her appetite for her Christmas dinner. " She must not brood all by her- self over her troubles," thought she to herself during tlie said dinner, "tliat must be bad for any one. To be sure, she has Jacqueline to talk to, but then one never gets too much of sympathy. I fancy it's an article of which the demand usually exceeds the sup])ly." And Minnie began to blame herself severely for having been so busy with her brotliers and sister ^as to have omitted talking to Rose before about her lover and his possible whereabouts. Dinner over, she he does [drew the Irish girl aside, and soon had gently won ing her, , lirr way into her confidence. For Rose was not re- lere she served. The pride which has a large share in pro- down- well as ind so age and lal help cept the arrived, i father, send to ? rebels. Minnie er ones, e party, e which ban the Minnie, discerii- she ob- of Mrs. de from to the ,'oungest ry chips d Mary, 'tk 58 ROSE AND MINNIE; m (luciiig that qualify was quite fort'ign to lior opcu and afTcctionatc nature. She took gratefully all the re- lief from her pain which she could get, and was too simply wise to make her burden any heavier by refus- ing, for dignity's sake, to let any one bear a little uf it with her. Except the expression of her sympathy, it was little enough that ]\Iiniiie could do for her; but symj)athy goes a great way with many peopk', and, as ]\Iiiinie rightly guessed, the demand here exceeded the supj)ly. *' 1 cannot add to dear Jacqueline's troubles by telling her all mine," said Roj^e, plaintively, **aiid so I have to tell them to myself, and to the Blessed Virgin, until my heart is sore for a word — a spoken word — of comfort. Oh, I could bear it if 1 had given him up to a good cause. But to think of what has parted us, to think of the companions he is with, of the deeds they have done, — there is the pain. That my Baptiste, of whom I was so proud, should have joined with such as tliese !" "Ah, Hose, you may be sure his heart is not witlii^ ^"^^'if^l- them, however he may have got ensnared by them forp''^"^^ I ^ a time. Dear old Jacqueline's son and your be-B''''^^'c J>' trolhed, sweet Kose, cannot be at heart one of th''«^» P'''*^}^ black rebels." Isis'ers " You think not, Miss Minnie ? Al. . is a com-r towards Indian some I door wi old fac( sweet-lc i told ]\ (liiv e^ «B the b cstrani 1)0 SMI for voi I to his So i Rose's was lii lady, w points have n Ani( which a visit with rr o .^he sai mine he would otherwise have ^cone." And then slie OR, THE LOYALISTS. 59 told Minnie all about tlioir conversation on the Snn- (Inv evening just preceding the lirst outbreak of les FlJs lie la Liberie. " Be comforted, Rose. You did and said all for I little ufK ^''C best. And doubt not ]5aptiste's heart is not ynipathy ^ estranged from yon ; it yrnrns after you, you may be sure, wherever he is. Perhaps in the end his love I for you will be just the leading star to guide him buck to his duty and loyalty." So they talked on by the Christmas fire until ubles bvB^^^^'* brightened face shewed how much her grief \ was lightened by the sympathy of the gentle little hulv, whose ready tact made her understand the sore a spoken p points of other folk's troubles, even though she might % have never felt the like. Among the many little works of Christian charity I wliich Minnie had laid bv for the festival week, was \ a visit to Anoonk, whom she was teaching to read, with great patience and no small success. " Hose," she said, *' will you come with me to the Indian not witlii! ^''^f^'i^pjiis"^' I ''^in 8^"i"& ^o see my friend Anoonk, them forE^"^^ ^ think the walk will do you good. Besides, you our be-H''''^^^ never seen her, and you will be amused at her of til' rP'''*^yj 0^^ \\\.\\q ways." And so the two foster- Lsis.ers set out on their way one bright afternoon is acom-'^"^'^^^^ ^^^ close of the Christmas week to go to the nr heart h ^'^'^^'^^^ camp. Jacqueline -watched them from the fcii' -someB^'^o^ ^^'i^^^ ^ pensive smile on her benevolent, wrinkled •ther thaiiB^W face ''The English lady is as good as she is then sliel^^'sst-looking. Already she has done good to my )pen and the re- was too bi refus. for her; y people, and here ''and so e Blessed had given what has is with, m. Thai! uld have! }' h CO ROSE AND MINNIE Biiplislo'a llosc ; iliis ig two or tlirci; limrs iliat slir lias had Koso out to walk witli her. Ah, iliat one also is a good \f\v\. iShc deserves to liavc my n;i|)- tisle, for slu^ loves him iridy." They liad not t^^one more than half way towards their journey's end when they saw a light and grace- ful liMle li<;ure coming along the track in front I fll (< Anoon k!' '1: d^^ (^xelanncd iMinnie, m snrpri (( II ()\V strange! Why 1 was just coming to see yon. >> (( And Anooidv came to see the ' White Cloud > )i sail I tl le vouiiir Ind lan, 111 her 1 ow musical voice 'I leii, tend(M'imr a lett(M*, she added, " Anoonk hrinirs a lei n ter for the old white stjuaw," — meaning by this^ Man Kirk pat rick. Minviie took tlie missive with so mc suri)ris( "How ever did you come by a letter for Mary, dear| Anoonk ? — But you are mistaken," she aiidi'd, as slii' looked more closely at the superscription, "this i^ not for the ohl squaw, but for the young one hero, Here, take it, Hose. The direction is (piite cloar.H ci ( V oil. l{ose Kirkpalriek.' Anoonk knew not of y while slie is aware that Clary's name is Kirkpatrick and therefore concluded that any one of that name must be your mother." Jvose's pah? cheek glowct brilliantly as she took the letter into her hand aiiill opened it, but the next, moment it paled again a; swiftlv, and she would have fallen had it not beeij for ^liunie's prompt support. Anoonk looked on A gravely aim wonuering .h 5^y- OR, TIIK LOYALISTS. 61 "What is il, dear Hoso?'* whisjxTcd Minnie. ''Is it any ill tidings, think you ?" "No, no," answered liose in a voice linlf sfiflt-d with agitation. " It is from liapti-ste. Oh, I am so [,'l:id— so sorry. Holy Virgin, I do not know what I am staying !" "First tell me what makes you glad," said Minnie, adroitly, "and do not stand still in the snow, it ia had for you. Anoonk, come with us." "Oh, I am glad," said Rose, "because he writes to inr ; because he says — yes, see, hen; it is — he is no longer a 'Son of Liberty.' lie wants me to -say that I forgive him ; he wants to see ine : — but oh, he is ill, very ill. That is sad news. But take the letter. Sec, read it; it is very short." It was indeed short ; in fact, it contaiuful litth; more than what ilosc had already briefly told Minnie. It concluded by saying that the bearers of the note would tell Rose all the rest. "Who are they who have brought it, Anoonk?" enquired ^linnie of the Indian, "and why did they brin<' it to vou ?" "Two red men brought it. They did not know the white man's house;. They knew the river; they knew Sekoskee's dwelling; they brought it that Anoonk might give it to the s(juaw," "I understand," said Minnie, who by this time had become quite au fait of Anoonk's abrupt and broken English, and had not only taught the Indian to speak that language more correctly, but had even o2 ROSE AND MINNIE ; learned some of the IndiaTi words. "I UTiderstand. Anoonk means, Rose, that these Indians who brought your letter were directed to this part of the country to find us, but not knowing tlie exact spot, and being well acquainted with the locality of the Indian village, they went there to gain more precise information as to our whereabouts, and finding that Anoonk knew us, they entrusted the letter to her." '' Tlie stranger red men live in Sekoskee's wigwam while they stay. To-morrow they go to their houses,'' said Anoonk. Tlie three girls pursued their way to the said wig- wam, where they found tlie two " stranger red men,"— tall and haiulsotne men, Moliawks from the Bay of Quiiite. In personal ap})earance they had decidedly the advantage over the Missasaguas, to which tribe Sekoskee and Anoonk belonged ; they were Chris tians moreover, and spoke very tolerable English. Their story was short and plain. Baptiste Lemourier had been found by one of their tribe in (he Indian wood; in the townsliip of Tyendinaga, badly wounded aiui unable to move. They had taken him under tlitir care, had nursed and tended him, and finally at hi; earnest request had undertaken this lengthy journey in order to bring his letter to Hose. Having fullilleii their mission, they intended returning to their home; on the morrow, as Anoonk had said. " I must go with them," said Rose to Minnie, in a tone of determination that presupposed ojipositioii and set it at defiance before it was expressed. Siit OR, THE LOYALISTS. 03 was mistaken, however, for Minnie was too wise to make any. She did not feel quite certain of the wisdom of the scheme, it is true, witliout a furtlier re- flection, but if opposition was to be made, she left it to Rose's own mother and Baptiste's mother to make it. With them Hose's persuasions soon carried the day. The ^lohawks, though strangers and somewliat fierce- looking men^ were evidently thoroughly friendly, or tliev would not have taken the trouble to lujrso Baptiste and convey his letter so long a distance for him. And the difficulty of the escort being got over, the rest of the plan was suitable and natural enough. The TvendinaM Indians had with them a horse and sleigh, and on the morrow, undci- Anoonk's guidance, they arrived at John Kirkpatrick^s house, and found Rose all ready prepared to take Anoonk's place in the sleigh, and go with them to the Bay of Quinte. Good old Jacqueline saw her depart without any jea- lous regrets. " Ilis old mother tried to keep him in the right way," she said, simply, "and could not do it; if Eose can, it will be the happier for us both. At least she can try, and God's blessing go with her." Rose's journey was swift aiul prosperous. No polished Europeans could have been more careful nor more thoughtfully courteous to their jjretty young i charge than were these two dark-skinned and fierce- looking Mohawks. And when tiiey at length arrived under the shadow of the Indian woods, the simple but stately welcome to their land, which they ex- pressed with the measured dignity of language com- il 64 ROSE AND MINNIE; mon to all the North American Indians, moved the susceptible Irish girl even to tears. Emerging from the broad belt of forest-land through which they had been travelling, they now came upon a wide, cleared slope, bounded at its lower extreme by the clear, glittering waters of the Bay of Quinte, and dotted over with neat farm-houses and patches of cultivated ground. Hither, towards the close of the last century, had the loyal Mohawks emigrated, choosing raiher to leave their native valleys by the fertile banks of the Mohawk river, than to relinquish their allegiance to tlie British sovereign when that land became a part of the United States. They were members of the Church of England, and brouglit with them the altar-cloth and communion-plate of their cliurch. Nor was it long before they erected a pretty Gothic edifice, about a mile from the Bay, where their sacred treasures were deposited, including three large marble tablets engraved with the Ten Coqi- mandments, which had been presented to the tribe by Queen Anne. Nor was this picturesque stone church the result of other people's care on their behalf; for the greater portion of the funds necessary for its erection were contributed by the Indians themselves. They prized their holy faith to a degree which might put to shame many of our white Canadian settlers, and did not rest satisfied until both church, school, and parsonage-house graced their new land. The two Indians who had Rose in charge took her to one of the most comfortable-looking of the houses OR, THE LOYALISTS, 65 ved the througii me upon extreme Quinte, patches close of nigrated, ^s by the elinquisli hen that 'liey were brought i-plate of \v erected the Bav, including .'en Co Ill- tribe by lie church ilialfj for •y for its einselves. ch might 11 settlers, |h, school, took her Ihe housis in the village, and there consigned her to the care of an old squaw, whose kindly dark eyes, though not absolutely like, somehow reminded the young stranger pleasantly of her dear old friend JacqueHne. Her guides explained to this old woman who Rose was, and what was her errand; i^hen with a few words of graceful farewell they turned their horse's steps to their own dwelling. This old Indian spoke no English, or next to none, and it was only by signs, therefore, that she and Rose could communicate. Under these circumstances she wisely thought the best thing she could do was to take her young guest at once to the sick man, and let the two pale-faces explain things themselves to each other. Slie beckoned Rose to follow her accordingly, and led her into a little apartment, plain enough cer- tainly, unpainted, and wanting in many of the little finishings and elegancies of a white settler's farm- house, but by no means uncomfortable nor destitute of attractiveness. The window looked down over a well- cultivated piece of the broad slope on which the set- tlement is situated, into the bright and dancing bay, across which one might see the beautiful, well-wooded shore on the further side of the lake. Some sacred prints adorned the walls, and the iloor was garnished with Indian mats of bright colour and choice weaving. But on none of these things did Rose's eye rest. The room contained but one thing for her, and that one thing was the thin, pale, dark-eyed being, more like the ghost of Baptiste than like Baptiste GG ROSE AND MINNIE ,1 liiinself, lying upon the carefully piled-up bufTalo robes on the opposite side of the room. How she flew to him, and caressed him like a sick child — as he was ! How she soothed him and calmed his agita- tion, controlling her own the while, that she might not hurt him ! How she murmured of nothing but joy at meeting him again, taking scrupulous heed to make no allusion which might pain or distress him ! He was very weak yet, for his wounds had been severe, — just in that state cT weakness when even the strongest and hardest man does not object to being treated with more of petting and tenderness than they usually care to have. He leaned his head against her shoulder, and listened gladly to the kind words which his betrothed lavished upon him, uii- mingled with the slightest syllable or tone of re- proacli. A stream of confidence and great content- ment flowed back into his troubled mind ; and then it broke upon him how grievously he had mistrusted, as men often do mistrust, a good woman's plighted love. How in Rosens, as in many another warm and tender nature, that love included many varying shades of affection, and contained within its rainbow-like circle a tinge of many other hues of the crowning grace of charity; — how with strange and rapid play of feeling she could look up with all the reliance of the submissive future wife, and look down with all the gentle indulgence anc. unexacting tenderness of the fond unselfish mother. He was supremely happy at that moment, and if he was getting rather better OR, THE LOYALISTS. G7 bufTalo ow she .11(1 — as s agita- ; mi gilt ing but heed to ;ss him ! ad been en even bject to nderiiess his head the kind lim, un- e of re- content- and then istrusted treatment than he deserved, why, it is wliat we most of us get many times in our own lives from One who is wiser than any fellow-creature can be, however pure and good. Hose would not let him talk mucli at first, and very soon the good old Indian came in to feed her patient, and to insist, by signs sufficiently imperative, and little guttural words that had a most ominously determined sound, that Rose also should eat and drink. CHAPTER VI. Soon, however. Rose was at Baptiste's side aanin, and as he grew calmer and more accustomed to her being there, she let him talk as much as he would, and pour out his griefs to her, for indeed she was as ea£j;er to hear all that he could tell her as he was I to impart his story. It was a pitiful tale of skir- pljo-lited p "^i^^'t*^; hardships, ill-plaimed schemes, and unworthy Irarm and If leaders, who, as ambitious democrats too often will do, lo- shades I thought more of their glory in success, and their own ibow-like crowning rapid play eliance of . with all lerness of ily happy Ipcrsoind safety in defeat, than of their cause or of their I misguided followers. Paj)ineau, the chief mover of itlie insurrection, and Brown, who was the first of the i Irebel leaders who opeidy broke the peace, fled at the Ifirst taste of defeat, with several other kindred sj)irits ; whilst one, — Girod, a Swiss by birth, who had been foremost at Grand Brule, — stung by remorse or her better B^'^'"^^^^' ^^ ^^'^^^ ^^^^ disgrace of failure, put an end to 68 ROSE AND MINNIE; !« his own life rather than fall into the hands of those against whose authority he had risen. "Oh, Rose, I was ashamed of my cause," said poor Baptiste, bitterly. " I had never heartily loved it. I know not how it was that I got entangled in it. I was blinded by my own conceit and pride, I think. But when we commenced our work, then my eyes were opened. They put me often into the working parties who were set to destroy the bridges over the river Eichelieu. Such miserable warfare it seemed to me, to destroy all that useful work : how coukl we benefit our country, which General Brown had always been talking about, by destroying all these and killing our countrymen and fellow-towns- people ? But it was late to begin thinking thus, then. For, as for one's freedom in the army of the Liberators — ah, bah ! — it was no more there. If I had tried to run away they would have put a ball through me. If I had gone away quietly with the intention of letting no one know it, they would soon have brought me back, as they did one of my com- rades who fled ; and him they stuck with their pikes while he was on his knees crying for mercy." " Poor Baptiste ! poor child !" said Eose, sooth- ingly, " it was hard for you. Having gone forward too quickly, you could not go back." "Ah, Rose, you are too good to me. There wasi the error of it. Why did I go on with them so long?" "You meant to turn back. You told me so that! OR, THE LOYALISTS, 69 )t those 3) Monday morning wlien all the misery began, but, as you have told me, you did not get the opportunity." " I had many opportunities before then, liose. Why was it that I left o(F going to Mass ? AVliy did I come less often to see you ? Solely because the good father and you also sj)oke against the Sons of Liberty. And I thought it a fine thing to he drilled, to be a patriot, to have 'a glorious work to do,' as they said, and I would not hear au\ thing against them. O Hose, I did truly think that 1 had a glorious work before me. I was so blind and stupid as that.^' " Do not thiidi more of that, my B.iptiste," urged Rose; "tell me how you were wounded.^' "It was just after that terrible night which we spent — some of us that is — by the liichelieu, keeping guard and destroying the bridges, as 1 said. Aii, tiiat night ! I shall never forget it. The rain fell in lorri-nis, — i, was half rain, half hail. The roads were uj) to our knees in mud, which also was half-frozen. As one walked, first a mocassin stuck in this mud, then one's boot, then one's whole foot. Several times the troops under Lieutenant-Colonel Hughes and se, sooth- BColonel Gore came up with us and drove us away. le forward ■Still we kept on. When the morning came I could lot feel my hands or my feet, I feared they were There wasLlmst-bitten ; and both I and my comrades who were I them sopvorking with me were so stiff we could hardly move. ^^ e hoped we should have been then allowed a little me so thatfctest; but at half-past ten o'clock, a messenger came said ly loved \"led in d pride, rk, then into the 5 bridges :arfare it rk: how il Brown 3ying all w-towns- ing thus, ly of the lere. If )ut a ball with the ould soon my com- \eir pikes 70 ROSE AND MINNIE; down from Sf. Drnis : reinforcements were needed tliere, and we were marclied up and across the river. Firing was going on fiercely on the nortli side of the village, and all the houses were fortified by our partv. "We did not get there till nearly all the fighting \va? over, but we misunderstood our orders, — at least our leader, Monsieur Desrivieres, did, and we inetj Cornet Sweeny and the Montreal Drnt'oons in full I retreat, — we having taken the wrong road. Tlipvl rode through us, cutting us down on every side, I know little about what happened, for I was left bv my companions for dead by the roadside, and I sup. pose the enemy rode on, leaving me for dead also." Rose gave a little shudder. "Oh, Baptiste, lia^l I oidy been there ! I tremble to think of vou Iviii: there wounded a?id cold, even though I have you saff now. Who found you ? I will love him for eve.j for his goodness to you.'' "Not too fast, my little Eose," said the sick maul smiling, and looking more like himself again thaJ Kose had yet seen him look all that day. "Yoj must not G;ive awav what is mine without askin;? iij first for my permission. But I will give it this tin: — if you do not love him too much, that is ; for tij man who picked me up was none other than the brci ther of my mother's old friend — Jean Varelle, t!:j same who took her and you up to Kingston in hf'fcau ; and for love of my mother he took me to lij own house. But there I could not feel secure; I wi afraid of every one ; of my own party and the loyalijj cludin OR, Tilt: LOYALISTS. 71 botli. I was impatient and unreasonable; woundetl as I was, I beii:ii;ed him, in a sliort time, to take me -Civ-3 )} sented to my wisli "You were a very foolisli, hoadstroni^ child, Bap- tiste," interposed Hose gravely, "you niij^ht liave rcsses in kind. "When I arrived as far as this," he added, con- cluding his little tale, " my strength altogether failed me, and I should have died in the Indian woods had it not been for these 2'ood Christians ; for they are also up the river, I'or a long time he would not [ 3ur party, B hear of this, and said it was as l)ad as putting his I ' '■ " hand to murder me; but after awhile he saw that he ' made me but more ill by refusing, and his brother | having by that time returned to Montreal, he con- ' j killed yourself by this attc-mpt to travel, llowcvrr,'* she added, archly, "continue, and let us hear how the foolish chihl conducted himself afterwards." I "I know I Was foolish, dear Jiose; but I was ; (lying with a great hunger and thirst to see you, and j I could not be (juiet. But truly, Jean Vanlle i thouidit that it had killed me more tlia i once, as we • struggled up the rapids. Ah, my Rose, I thought of t nothing but you. If I couUl only get n(Mr you and j i^et your forgiveness, I felt 1 should die in peace ; and I I thought only of dying." ; "You must think of it no more, Baptiste. Your mother has not seen vou vet. For manv vears she and I will need you to be our consolation and ji»y." Baptiste could only answer by reiurning her ca- 72 ROSE AND MINNIE J Clirisfianf, and most kind, flionc^li, alas ! they are lierelics — Protestants of tlie Eti'Mish Church. But thry are as kind to me as if they were Catholics." Aye, and as loyid too, Baptiste might have added, as any Cliristinns to be found among the white popu- lation of Canada. *' The rest you know/' said Baptiste, a little lan- guidly, as he laid his head back and looked con- tentrdly up into the dark earnest eyes of his bc- trollu'd. He had talked some time for a sick man, and he felt wearv, and looked so. "Talk no more all this evening/* said Rose, gently and gaily. "1 will sing you to sleep. I have not sung since the sad day we parted, — but to- night T could sini:: like a bird on a tree. For have I iw\y got my B;i})tiste again?" And in her sweet rich voice she commenced sini'- ing some of those lovely Irish airs which are so wildly pl.iiiitive, and tender, and gay, all in a breath. The old s(jnaw, their hostess, stole in to listen, and no(Kl('d her lu^ad with many a grunt of approval, while her dark eyes filled with tears at the touching fidls of those simple songs, even though she under- stood nothini»; of the words. Very sweetly and }>eacefully the next three weeks glided on in tliat Indian house by the Bay of Quinte. Full of growing uud daily increasing health and strength of body and mind for Baptiste ; full of a gentle repentance, and an increasing admiration of his future wife, which called into play all the nobler OR, THE LOYALISTS. 73 ley arc , But added, e popu- ttle lan- ed con- liis be- ck mail, d Rose, leep. I J -but to- ll have I ;ed sing- i are so a breatli. sten, ami approval, touching le under- ee weel^^ f Quintt^. 3aUh and full of a [ration of lie nobler elements of his lioncst and manly charncter, which had been only dimmed for awhile, not (pieuclied, by the headi^trong tide of his youthful petulance and pride; full of peace and great happiness for both the lovers, and through them to their hospitable and warm-hearted hosts. It was a refreshing lull amid the whirlwind of civil contention and the fierce rush of war and havoc. So mucli stronger was Biiptiste, indeed, in a short time after Rose's arrival, that he was beginning to think that it was time to burden the hospitality of his Indian friends no longer, and had concerted with Rose some small presents to be offered to them tis tokens of their gratitude, when one morning a great stir was perceived by him in the settlement. Oxen and horses were being got ready on all sides, and harnessed to waggons arul carts ; men, women and children were all astir, and evcrvthini; betokened some general movement on the part of the IMoliawks. It was yet but early morning, and Ba})ti^te had but just risen. Dressing himself quickly, therefore, he went out to enquire the cause of this uimsual bustle. As he came out of the house the Indians were all flock- ing into church. Whatever their enterprise, it was clear that it was a good and just one, upon which they could beseech the blessing of God without irre- verence, and clear also that to their devout minds the asking of that blessing was the fitting preliminary to anv undertakiniiC. "What is the matter ?'' enquired Bapliste of the 74 ROSE AND MINNIE first Indian whom he encountered as they returned from the cliurcli wlicn tlie service was concluded. " Whither are you all bound ?" "We go to Kingston/' answered the man, quietly, ''to figlit for our ^lotlier across the great Lake. Her enemies have armed themselves ay;ainst her rule. They march against Kingston to-morrow. AYe go to meet them. They will not return upon their war- path." lie pointed to a time-hon.oured Union Jnclv wliicli one of the tribe had just unfurlei], with a grave light- ing up of his stern hut not unhandsome features whicli n'as very singular and impressive. What if their banner had a few rents in it, and was somewliat the worse also in brilliaicv of colour for stress of time and weather, it was none the less the honoured sign of their allegiance to the great ]Motlier in t!ie distnnt land from whom th<^y received their beloved pastor, from whose ancestors theirs had received the one faith. Iler God h-id become their God; her people had become their ])eopk: ; her cause had be- come their cause; and hke Iluth, they were ready to follow^ their Naomi even to the death. Baptiste's pale face iluslied, half with shame, half witli eager and sudden resolve. IIow mucli more noble and manly was tins ])ronipt devotion of the red men to their white Queen, than his hasty and fnful adherence to those rebel leaders who had caused so much nn'sery to the land ! One thought pos^-esscd him, one burnin«: desire, — to blot out the staiii of -.(CTrfW^ OR, TPIB LOYALISTS. 75 Ills disloyalty by giving himself witliout delny, by sacrificing himself, if need be, to the better and truer cause. "But Enptisto, your health!" said the anxious Rose, to whom he instantly communicated his wish. "Are you fit vet to eniraci^c in anv more fiirhtini^? Consider how short a time it is since vou were too weak to get up out of your bed. You are indeed much better, but is not this 'rying ;v)ur strength too soon?" " But, Rose," responded Ba])tiste, sadly and earn- estly, ''my honour, — for even a })easant onglit to liave his honour, Rose. I will nnswer vou word for w'ord. Is mv honour clear enouLih that I should not en^an-e in anv more fii'-lititii'- ? Consider how sliort a time it is since I was foolishlv ami madlv fiu-hlincf on the wrouii" side. Would it not be cowar;llv to remain quiet, and not atone for my error now that I have a chance? Oh, 'lose, say thou wilt he n-lad to have me go, — send me to fi^ht for the riuht as once thou didst wui.' me buck i'roiii the wronu:." "Go then, Bi'ptiste, go," exclaiuunl Hose, catch- ing his enthubiii.-!m ; "figlit manfully for the Queeii, and the blessing of the good God and the saints go with thee." For a moment he caught her in his ;irms, then ran into the house to make the few needlul pr('[)aralions. But though she had given h.er consimt, Ros(,''s heart somewhat misj^^ave her, as she looked her last oti the spare figure, and wan though now smiling face of her 7Q ROSE AND ajINNIE; betrothed. "Ah, if I have done wrong to let him go ! How shall T answer it to Jacqueline ? Blessed Virgin, l.ow miserable is all this fighting !" The services of the Mohawks were most gladly accepted by the authorities at Kingston. They were put into barracks, and patrol duties were assigned to them by Lieutenant-Colonel Si;- Richard Bonny castle. The town of Kingston was threatened by an attack on the 22nd of February from a large force of insur- gents, who somewhat grandiloquently styled them- selves the " Army of Liberation," under General Rens- selaer Van Rensselaer and William Lyon Mackenzie. But so prompt and energetic were the measures taken for the ))rotection of that town, tliat the insurgents were deterred from venturing fartiier than Hickory Island ; and finally, by the combined efforts of the Belleville riflemen and the Indian warriors under Major ritzgerald, they were ignominiously driven away, leaving behind them their stores and ammuni- tion. When, the danger being over and the enemy fled, the Mohawks were about to return to the woods of Tyendinaga, they were urged to accept the usual pay of militia. Bat this they with characteristic dignity declined: — '*We came to do battle for our Mother across the Great Waters, not to be paid. If she is pleased with her red children, we are rewarded." And so they returned empty-handed, but satisfied in heart, to their liomesteads by the shores of the Bay of Quinte. As for Baptifte, he would have been glad of a little IT IllfS OR, THE LOYALISTS, n more hard fighting. In the eiitliusiasm of liis re- pentance he longed to do a great deal to testify his sorrow and sincerity. But he had done all that lay in his pjwer, and was obliged for the present to be 'ontent. Rose, at least, was thoroughly content to liave him back again. "Now, dear Bnptiste,^' she urged, "let us have no more fighting. Let us go up to the little farm by the Otonabee, and let Jacque- line see you. IIo'v will they all rejoice with us at the sight of you !" Little did Rose guess what was going on that very night by the side of the brawling river. CHAPTER YIL It was a dark, stormy night. The wind whi'^tled and howled around the little farm-house by the Oto- nabee as if it would raze it from its foundations and cast it into the foaming rapids of the river, then whirled away through the pine-forest shrieking as it went, and tearing the tops of the trees with remorse- less hand. Denham had just piled up the wood-fire to a cheer- ful blaze, and drawn Minnie's ciiair close between that and the table on which stood her large house- wifely basket, overflowing with little socks and stock- ings, torn pinafores to be carefully patched for the hundredth time, and shirts of Denham's with the buttons off. It had been a moot point between this 78 ROSE AND MINNIE; ii I young gentleman and liis sister wlictlier she sliould be allowed to add his faulty linen to her weekly task of mejiding, Denhani contending that it was quite enough that she should have to work for the children, and that he ought to be on her hands no longer, but rather, in Bush fashion, should learn to turn his hand to anything, and make and mend for himself. But Minnie would not hear of it, and her objections car- ried the day, " It was all very well for him to do such a little job just once or twice for practice," she said ; " slic did not like boys to be utterly helpless in such matters, but Denham would not always live in the Bush, and if he wanted a little change in the even- ing time from his Latin and mathematics, drawing or cabinet-making was a much more useful and fitting re- creation for him. And besides, she should lose just the portion of her needlework she liked the best if she had not his things to do." And so the point was settled, and Denham^s thouglitful anxiety to save his sister's toil could only find vent b} making him take a scrupulous care about the unnecessary rending of his ffiu-ments which no other motive could have in- duced him to do. She liad not yet come down from the little upper room, (for their house boasted a second story, albeit that it was more after the fashion of a loft than a sleeping-chamber,) where she was putting little Harry to bed, when a somewhat im- perative raj) at the door made Denham hasten to open it. On such a nii^ht as this it was excusable in any one, be he who he might, to be somewhat hasty OR, THE LOYALISTS. 79 in (lemancling admittance. A tall man entered, the moment the door was opened, letting in with him a gust of snow and wind \\hiuh made Denham invo- lantarily shiver. The stranger was very tall, — it might be six feet or more. He had a long, melancholy- looking face, a sallow complexion, and very thick, black eyebrows, which gave a lowering look to his heavy eyes; eyes that rested in a slow, fixed manner upon any one whom he chanced to look at, in a way that was peculiarly unpleasant. "It is a mighty cold night," he said, slowly, as he walked towards the fire, eyeing Denham in the mean- time in the fixed manner we have described. Di'iiham set a chair for the stranger with an air of innate courtesy which gave a grace to all that the boy did. " You must be almost frozen if you have travelled far through such a storm as this," he observed. "I have not come far," said the slow-speaking stranger, "but a little distance in this wind is enough to chill the blood." There was a little pause. Deidiam did not like to make more enquiries for fear of seeming iinpertinently curious, aiid there was something in his guest's^ gloomy and sinister aspect which checked the ready tlow cf ordinary c)iit-chat. Denham was not sorry when Minnie's entrance relieved him from the weight of the stranger's leaden eyes, which now turned slowly upon her with the same intent gaze. " You are the children of AViliiam Ilolford, I be- 80 KOSE AND MINNIE j If lieve ?** he observed, interrogatively, after Minnie had offered refreshments which were apparently very ac- ceptable to the traveller. " And your father is away ?'* he added, on receiving from Minnie an affirmative reply to his first query. Minnie did not feel called upon to state the nature of the occupation which took Mr. Ilulford from home, and therefore she again simply answered, "Yes." *' Long away ?'* said the catechetical stranger. " Some little time," replied Minnie, shortly, annoyed at the cold stare and persistent questionings of their unprepossessing guest. " Now Ella, dear," she said, turning to her little sister, " get your work. I am going to work also, while Denham reads to us." Denham immediately took the hint, and drawing his seat to the light, opened his book, and turned the leaves quickly to find his place. Before he could do so the sallow-faced man interposed another question. ''When does your father come home?" "Perhaps he wants to see him," thought Minnie to herself, taking herself to task at the same moment for the feelings of dislike and irritation that were momentarily gaining ground in her usually charitable and kindly mind towards this man. She answered his question by another, however : — " Do you want to see him. Sir? You can leave any message or note with me that you please." " Ah ! you don't know, then, when he is coming back," observed the man, with an air of quiet satis- faction which made his heavy visage yet more uii- i< hope 'e OR, THE LOYALISTS. 81 lie liad ery ac- ery. ; nature 1 home, s." er. annoyed of their jhe said, t Minnie moment hat were haritahle answered you want issage or s coming Aiet satis- more un- pleasing. Minnie, wlio was by Tiatnre soinewliat nervous and timid, could gladly have walked out into the wind and snow to iiave avoided the pertinacious glare of his great black eyes as he made this last remark. She controlled herself, however, and merely repeating, " I can give him any message you like to leave," signed to her brother to begin his read- ing, hoping by that act to induce the stranger either to state his errand, if he really had any, or to go away if he had oidy stepped in for refreshment iind a tem- porary shelter from the storm. " I shall not trouble you," said the stranger, rising ; "nor shall I trouble you longer with my presence." His long legs carried him almost in a single stride from the fireside to the door ; he opened it, and was gone. Minnie would fain have said something cour- teous as a parting speech, that at least her guest might have a pleasant last reminiscence, but he was gone before she had time to say anything. Ilis last movement was the quickest that he had made during the whole of his visit. "What an odious man!" exclaimed little Ella, as the door closed upon the obnoxious visitor. " You turned quite white, Minnie, when he stared at you so rudely." " Did I ? Certainly I have seldom before seen any one whom I disliked so much at first sight. I hope I was not rude to him?" she added, appealing to Denham. " You coidd not be rude if you tried," answered 82 ROSE AND MINNIE; her brother. " Even when you answer any one briefly, you do it with a tone of voice and a little gentle lighting up of your dear eyes which turns it into the sweetest courtesy.'* "Hush, Denham," said Minnie, laughing and blushing, as she laid her finger on his lips, "what a flatterer you are, you will turn my head ; there is no getting an honest opinion out of you. But now let us think no more of this disagreeable man. Read to us, dear Denham, and let us forget him." IIow much more Minnie's dislike and timidity might have been aroused had she known that the stranger who had been sitting by her fireside was none other than Samuel Lount, the blacksmith, of Yonge-street, the notorious rebel leader and the sworn ally of Mackenzie, Fletcher, Lloyd, and the other demagogues more especially connected with the affair of Montgomery's Tavern, it is impossible to say ; but even as it was, all Denham's reading and all Ella's m^rry prattle failed entirely to restore her equanimity, or to drive from her mind a shuddering recollection of those heavy, sinister eyes, and that coldly impertinent questioning voice. She did her best, however, to conceal her uncomfortable feelings from her brother and sister, and the evening wore away as usual. The Evensong was duly said, the fires were covered up, the fire-arms were loaded,— for in that lonely place and in these unsettled times it was a matter of mere ordinary precaution to do thus much, — and all retired to bed. a litl Minn poinl( OR, THE LOYALISTS. CHAPTER YIII. 83 g and " what ;re is no now let Bead to timidity til at the ?ide was smith, of and the and the ted witli ossible to g and all tore her uddering and that did her e feelings ling wore said, the loaded,— tied times ion to do It nnight have been a little past midnight or more when Denham was awoke by a gentle hand laid upon his shoulder, and starting up in bed found his sislcr standing by his side, her little bare feet and white night-dress but lialf concealed by a heavy cloak which she had hastily thrown round her shouklers. Her white face and trembling limbs in one moment roused in the lad a spirit and courage far beyond his years. There was clearly some danger at hand, and his gentle sister, woman-like, was terrified at its ap- proach ; now was the time for him to support and aid, if possible to protect her. "AVhat is amiss, dear iNIinnie?" he asked, witli a calmness which helped Minnie to regain a portion of her own. While he was speaking he was quickly slipping on shoes and trowsers, that he might be ready for action in case of any emergency. Confi- dence and courage are hap})ily almost as infectious as their reverse, and Minnie's cheeks lost a little of their deathly whiteness and her limbs a little of tluir uncontrollable agitation when she saw Dciiham's readiness and coolness. '' Come into my room," she said, " I have some- thing to shew you.'* "And I've something to shew you,^^ he said, with a little oddity of expression, which almost made Minnie smile, despite her terrified excitement, as he pointed to her little white toes, which both looked 84 ROSE AND MINNIE; and were half frozen. " Whatever may be the mat- ter, it cannot be made better by your catching cohl/' That Httle practical, commonplace observation about so every-day a matter as * catching cold' wonderful!)' helped on Minnie's restoration to her usual state of calm and thoughtful self-possession. She drew a long sigh of relief as she consciously felt the strained excitement of her mood relax. '^ Oil, Denham, perhaps it is not as bad as 1 fancied. But to confess the honest truth, I was so scared that I just leaped out of bed and rushed to vou without waiting to think at all. It's a wonder how I got hohl of this cloak. But I shall soon be brave now I've got hold of you." If Denham himself had felt courageous before, doubly so did he feel after that little speech of his sister's. While thus speaking they had mounted into the little upper room, where Minnie slept with Ella and little Harry, Mary and Jessie occupying a portion which was boarded off from the rest; while Denham and Mr. Holford slept downstairs. And here the cause of Minnie's alarm became at once ap- parent. Through the window, which looked west- ward, — awnv from the river and in the direction of John Kirkpatrick's farm, — a lurid, smoky glare might be distinctly seen, and from time to time, as the wind, which had only partially abated, swept through the forest, a tongue of flame might be seen for a moment heaping up so that its jagged point could be seen above the intervening pine and cedar-trees. OR, THE LOYALISTS. 8 o le mat- cold." 11 about derfully state of drew a straiiK'd ad as 1 [ was so ushed to .\ wonder soon be s before, jh of bis mounted dept with upying a st; while s. And once ap- ed west- rection of are might the wind, ougb the a moment 1 be seeu ""Wliat do you think it is, Minnie?'^ said her brother, after bavini' surveyed the scene for a minute or so. "Is it an accident to Kirkpatriek's farm? or tlie forest fired bv IiuHans? or possibly — can it be? — a sii^'nal of distress from the Kirkpatricks?" "None of these, Deiiham. I know not wliy, but I feel convinced that this has to do with the visit of tliat evil-faced man who came liere to-ni'^ht. Den- liam," she added, in a frightened whisper, " it's the reb.ds!" By one of those strange presentiments which some- times seem sent by a merciful IM'ovideiice as fore- warnings, she had divined the terrible truth. A cold tlirill of horror shot throui^di Di-nhaiu's heart. There are few people who, finding themselves "in a strait" between the perils of raging and deadly elenuMUs and those of wicked and iiifuriated men, would not with eager earnestness make David's choice, — "Let us fall now into the band of the Lord, and let us not fall into the band of man." Deidiam made no reply for a moment. lie would not increase bis sister's alarm bv addin;;' his coiivic- tions and fears to hers. Tiieu he said, " In any case, Minnie, there is some mischief near, and we nmst b(* prepared. Get yourself and the children dressed, darling, while I wake Mary and Jessie, and see to the guns and the fastenings." Amid all her alarm Minnie could not but feel a fond admiration of the manliness, thoughtfulness, and promptness wbicb the necessities of this try- V] r voice and shouted \wr brother DeiilKun's name. Again and again she did tliis, but the moaning of the wind and the clashing of the branches were the only sounds that made answer. Had she been alone she would have sat down on the ground where she was, and commit ting herself to God's keeping, made no further efibrt to escape from her perilous position; 92 ROSE AND MINNIE; but for the sake of the child in her arms she ac'ain began to struggle onwards, th,<- he might have tlie chance, all faint as tliat chance was, of reaching some shelter before the cold had seriously affected him. Oh that terrible wind ! How it numbed the poor girl's limbs, how it nipped them sharply, and yet more sharply, until the excruciating pain was almost more than she could bear without tears. She waded on through the deep snow nevertheless, now and then raising her voice as before in that hopeless cry, — " Denham ! help, Denham !" A verse came somewhat quaintly into her mind, — "Speak unto the children of Israel that they go forward ;" and albeit that the apphcation was by no means exact, it came upon Minnie, as such sudden thoughts in seasons of great trial often do, with all the stern force of a personal admonition. Yes, heedless of pain, heedless of the toil of the way, and the uncertainty of tlie end, " Speak unto the children of Israel that they go for- ward." And so she struggled on, staying herself upon that one thought, that He who went before them with the fiery cloud, went before her too, though not so visibly. "Minnie," whispered the frightened child in her arms, " will those men come after us any more ?" " No, darling ; I think not. Are you cold ?" " No, Minnie, hardly at all. But you are, I know, by the sound of your voice. Let me walk, darhng Min, I'm too big for you to carry." Hush, my pet; the snow is too deep for you t( OR, THE LOYALISTS. 08 again ve the r some n. Oh r girl's b more t more ded on ,d tlien cry,— mewhat children that the le upon of great personal s of the ,he end, go for- horself t before her too, her in :e?'' I know, darling for you to get tlirough : and we must go on, we must not stand still. Harry, darling, do you know that we are in great danger?" she added, in a low, sweet voice, that awed but did not frighten the little fellow. •' We are both in great danger of dying, Harry. I am afraid I cannot find the track to Uncle Henry's house, and we shall be lost in the forest, if I cannot find it ; and then either the wolves may come upon us, or the snow may freeze us. I want you to lie (juite still, and to say your little evening prayers, Harry, for yourself and for me.'* " Yes, Minnie." And the little boy, lying quite still as she had told him to do, began whispering his prayers to himself. His sister's quiet voice, and the safe feeling of her warm arms round him, pre- vented him from feeling the fear he otherwise would at the prospect of wolves and frost ; and the specially calming occupation which she had set him, kept his little mind peacefully employed, and suggested all the thoughts which could most inspire him with fortitude and courage. As for Minnie herself, she was learning by sharp experience what a terrible capacity the body has for feeling pain, and for trans- mitting its own sensations of weakness and agony to the mind. With all her resolution and all her bravery, she could not keep back the tears which fell down her cheeks, and froze as they fell. Her limbs felt heavy as lead, so that she could scarcely drag. them after her; and the searching pain which she was enduring tortured every part of her with 94 ROSE AND MINNIE; sharp anguish. " By Thine agony and passion j by Thy precious death and burial, good Lord, deliver us !" The words escaped from her lips almost un- awares, wrung from her by the extremity of her suf- fering, which made her instinctively take refuge in prayer, and fly for aid to Him who was the "Man of sorrows, and acquainted with grief." The next moment she felt almost ashamed to have used such solemn words only because she was in bodily pain, — the more so that the pain was sud- denly and considerably abated. She did not know that it was "the bitterness of death" through which she had been passing, — that the struggle was over now, the glory quite secure, the rest already begun. Fainter and fainter grew her steps, heavier and yet more numb her limbs, less and still less the bitter aching. And now the last fatal symptom of death by cold stole over her, — an unconquerable, irre- sistible desire to sleep, a desire which the most reso- lute will has no power long to combat, since it is the result of disease, set up in the very organ through which alone the will can act upon the rest of the body. She knew, of course, as every one does, the cause of this sleepiness, and its probable result; and she fought against it as long as she could, ever mur- muring to herself her little watchword, "Speak unto the children of Israel that they go forward." Bat it was all of no avail. Dimmer and dimmer grew her consciousness, her feet refused to obey her; and instinctively clasping little Harry yet more tightly in OR, THB LOYALISTS. 95 ion; by , deliver lost un- her suf- efuge in Man (( i to have B was in was sud- lot know gh which was over dy begun, r and yet the bitter of death ible, irre- ost reso- ;iuce it is III through gst of the does, the jsult; and jver mur- 3eak unto Id." But ler grew her; and tightly in her arms, she sank down upon the soft snow. One faint thought glimmered through her waning con- sciousness, a thought of how there had come to the children of Israel, at last, a time of " going forward" which had taken them out of the weary wildernes?, and brought them to the land of Canaan, and to their promised rest. It was the last movement of her oppressed brain, and it left a faint, sweet smile upon her pale, sleeping lips. "Minnie dear, Minnie," said little Harry, moving uneasily in her still arms, ''did you hurt yourself when you slipped down ? The snow's so soft, I don't think you did. But, Min, darling, do tell me, — do speak to me." There was no answer; only the clasp of the gentle arms relaxed a little, as the boy fidgeted about to get a look at her face. "She must have gone to sleep," said the child, a little ruefully ; " and now, perhaps, the wolves will come and eat us while she is asleep." He would have cried at this really alarming idea, but that he was afraid of " waking poor Minnie, who must be so tired with carrying him so far in the snow." The little lad, fully dressed himself, closely wrapped in the big cloak from the keen wind, and well away from the snow, was comparatively quite warm, and never dreamt — poor innocent child ! — that cold, and not fatigue, had caused his sister's sleep, nor yet what kind of sleep it was. Anxious always to obey Minnie to the full extent of his capability, and to please her as much as he could, he said his prayers 96 ROSE AND MINNIE; again, and then nestling himself up closely upon her quiet bosom, the little fellow also dropped fast asleep. But his was the healthy sleep of a tired and over-excited child. /I CHAPTER IX. Meanwhile, Denhara and Ella had been drafrgeil in an entirely diiferent direction by the two rulTmns who conducted them forth into the woods. Jessie Kirkpatrick, whom they soon discovered to be none of the Holford family, but only the daughter of the old servant, being kept, together with her mother, and set to provide supper for the rebels, under threat of being shot if they hesitated in so doing. "You may help your^^elves, you ruffians,'* the sturdy old woman had said, setting herself reso- lutely down in a chair, as soon as they released her arms. " The things in the house is none o' mine, and I'll set no supper, save for my master and his bairns. If you shoot me honest, I'd prefer it to being spared dishonest. And oh !" she added, bursting out into a wail of sorrow, "it's thankful I'd have been to have been shot, sooner nor have seen the blessed childer dragged out of their father's house, this gate." And the old nurse threw her apron over her head, and wept bitterly, perfectly regardless of the threats and curses the men showered upon her. Jessie, however, was more timid, possibly also more OR^ THE LOYALISTS. 97 upon :d fast uJ and ira^geil ruffians Jessie be none !r of the mother, ,er t\\reat ns, if the elf reso- d her jase imne, an( IS bairns bg spared out into been to B blessed )use, this )ron over ta idless of I upon her. also more self-interested, and therefore more compliant: she was attached to the family in a calm and moderate way, but she had no inclination to risk her life or invite rough usage by such scrupulous fidelity as her mother's. And the men, finding the pretty daughter willing to attend to their wants, contented themselves with her services, and left the old woman to herself. But to return to Denham and his younger sister. They were left not in the heart of the forest, like poor Minnie, but in the centre of u wide meadow, some hundred acres in extent, which, c< ered with one unvarying sheet of snow, looked like a wln'tc lake in the centre of the black, sno^^ crow»ied furest. Not th*^' there was light to see anything- distinctly r>t the time when Denham and Ella found them- selves deserted there by their rough conductor, but they knew the spot well, and insomuch were better off than their sister and little brother. Denham's first thought was of Minnie, as Minnie's had been of Denham. Both felt that in union of thought and aid would be strength, and both were tenderly anxious for each other. But Denham's lusty shouts of ** Minnie 1 Minnie !" found no more response than hers had done. Then they walked on a little w^ay towards a narrow, rapid creek, that even in this icy time hurried along so rapidly as to escape being frozen. "Denham, I see sometfeg moving," said Ella, after a minute or two's silence, during which time they had been plodding diligently on through the H t 98 ROSE AND MINNIE deep snow. They were both of them tolerably well cloined, for while Minnie had been busy dressing little Harry, Ella, with her sister's occasional assist- ance, had slipped on a fair supply of warm garments, and they did not consequently suffer much in this night-walk, cold though the beaver-meadow was. " It's a horse, and something behind it \" joyfully exclaimed Denham, after looking for a moment in the direction in which his sister had pointed. He gave another loud shout, and, to his no small joy, it was answered by a voice so peculiar, that there was no mistaking it even at that distance. " It's Ichabod Clapshaw, Denham,'' said little Ella. " I think he'll be good to us, queer though he is." In a few minutes the horse and sleigh were along- side of the two children. Ichabod gave a whistle of surprise at beholding the two young Holfords in the middle of the beaver-meadow at this time of night, and for a minute or so seemed too much astonished to make any further remark. Then he said, drily enough, and with his own peculiar Yankee drawl, "Guess it's pretty considerable late, Denham, for you and Ella to be out. What's the reason you're not to hum ?" In a few words Denham gave him a hasty account of what had befallen them, while Ichabod employed himself in lifting little Ella into the sleigh, and set- tling an undressed deer-robe comfortably about her. " Humph !" grunted the American, when Denham had finished ; " and so they've fixed it that way, have OR, THE LOYALISTS. ly well ressing assist- :ments, in this as. joyfully nent in d. He il joy, it lere was ttle Ella. 16 is/* re along- a whistle rds in the of night, stonished aid, drily ee drawl, iham, for on you're y account mployed , and set- )out her. Denham way, have they, the eternal villains, the .if 99 and Icliabod, in his wrathful indignation, continued to pour forth on them a string of strange epithets, not unmixed with oaths and curses as strange, which none but an Ame- rican would even so much as have thouglit of. " Ichabod," said Denham, with more dignity than one might have expected from one so young, " })r;iy do not speak in that way. You should not use those violent expressions of any one, not even of eiuMiiics aiul bad men. And besides, they are not fit for my sister to hear." " Hold yer impudence, young 'un," said Tciiaborl, roughly, but good-humouredly, " and come ^loiig. I mean to drop then,\ 'ere words, I do, for the sake of that gal Minnie. 'Yes," he added, as he gathered up the reins, and prepared to drive back again from whence he came with the two children, '^ I'd do a sight o' disagreeable things rather nor vex her." "But, Ichabod," said Denliam, anxiously, "there is the worst of it. Minnie is in the forest, too, some- where, for they dragged her out of the house- door just before me ; but where she is I do not know. Pray do not take us home to your place till we have found her." " Worse nor useless, Denham, to look for her, without lights, in the forest, when it's as dark as the bhnd man's eyes to-night. I come across to help at the fire, which I reckon is over to John Kirk- patrick's, and I did not calculate to bring lanterns along to see a blazing house by." 100 ROSE AND MINNIE ; il "Cheer up," he added, seeing Denham cover his face with his hands with a gesture of despair, " we'll be to hum spry 'nough, and my old woman ^11 take care of Ella here while we go and look for t'other teu." Tchabod's clearing lay a little way to the north side of the beaver-meadow and its belt of forest. And having awoke his wife Priscilla, — commonly called Cilly Clapshaw, a name whose libellous sound was by no means in accordance with the dame's shrewd character, — he consigned Ella to her care, and started out again with Denham, a long lad of his, called Job, and a farm 'help,' to look for the miss- ing ones. Tlicy took with them lanterns, and a couple of guns, in consideration of the company they might possibly fall in with on their way, and for hours they searched the woods in all directions in the hope of finding her, but all with no avail. The morning broke at last, — a black, cold day ; the same keen, cutting wind still blew over the frozen snow, and dark grey clouds covered the sky. They had just turned back along one of the forest tracks which they had pursued until it came out by the side of the Otonabee, without finding any trace of steps or any marks of the lost Minnie, when they saw a cutter, drawn by a fine grey horse, trotting briskly along the road before them. " Uncle Henry's grey mare !" exclaimed Denham. " And I guess 'tis Holford himself driving," added Ichabod. ' we'll I take other north forest, nmonly 5 sound , shrewd re, and [ of his, he miss- 1, and a company wav, and lirections aU. Denham. ig," added OR, THE LOYALISTS. 101 Poor Deiiham was almost overcome with the rush of conflicting feelings. It was a terrible meeting this, for he could see by his father's joyous aspect and unclouded brow that he as yet knew nothing of the calamity which had befallen his family. "Denham, my dear boy/' he exclaimed, as he leaped from the cutter and affectionately greeted his sou, "why I thought to surprise you all at break- fast. I have spent the night at Uncle Henry's, not liking to knock you all up so late last niglit, for it was late when we arrived. But you are beforehand with me." Denham had turned his face hastily from his father to hide liis choking tears, and was making a feint at tightening a buckle in tlie grey marci's harness. IIow should he break the dreadful news ? Ichabod spared him the painful task. "I'm glad to see yer to hum, Ilolford," he said gravely ; " and to tell yer the truth it's time you were, for matters isn't jist all right up there. We're on a grave bit of a job, Ilolford, and the sooner you know it the better. It's jist no more nor less than that your gal Minnie's niissin', and it's been a con- siderable snowy night for a delicate young critter like her to be out." He would not tell him any more of the bad news juct then ; — that Harry was also with Miiuiie, that the insurgents had broken into his house, and, as they had every reason to believe, had burnt John Kirkpatrick's farm, were additional evil tidings which i i' 102 ROSE AND MINNIE ; I ; I t< he would hear but too soon. At first the poor father seemed paralyzed by the suddenness of the stroke, but in a short time his manly energy gathered itself together, and he turned back with the melan- choly and disheartened searching party, to make yet another effort towards his daughter's recovery. Ko one spoke much after that ; there were lines of stern sorrow already marked on Mr. Holford's face which kept all tlie rest of the anxious and mournful little band more silent even than before. In the chilly light of dawn they now perceived tracks which had escaped them by the partial help of their lanterns, and following these they came at last to a spot where one of the footsteps, evidently the resolute, firm steps of a strong man, turned back again and went in the direction of Weston Farm. "They left her here," whispered Denham to Ichabod, "as they did Ella and me in the beaver- meadow." Ichabod nodded, and quietly but quickly they pur- sued the slurred, uncertain tracks left by the smaller and weaker feet which had also travelled this dreary path. They had not gone very far upon this fainter track when Ichabod, who was in the front of the party, suddenly stopped. Denham, who was imme- diately behind him, guessed with a sudden heavy thrill at his heart what it was that he had foiiiitl; with a great effort he stepped forward to Ichabod's side, and then he also stood still. Thus, one by one they gathered round in a little circle, utterly OR, THE LOYALISTS. 103 poor of the ithered melan- ike yet f. ^0 of stem e which ul little lerceived tial help came at evidently lied back "arm. iham to e beaver- they pur- le smaller Ills dreary ^us fainter ,nt of the as imme- ,en heavy lad fonnd; Ichabod's s, one by ;le, utterly stunned at the scene before their feet. There in the cold grey morning h'ght she lay, her little white- garmented figure hardly discernible from the white couch on which she rested, whose snowy covering bad drifted up over her feet, and lightly powdered over the warm cloak which was yet closely wrapped round the sleeping Harry. Yes, there they both lay sleeping still, — but what a different sleep ! what a different aspect the two faces wore ! The boy's nearly-covered cheek so fresh and glowing ; hers, as it lay against the cold snow, so still, and pale, and marble-like. No one could have a moment's doubt that hers was the sleep from which she would never wake here. But oh, that smile upon her lips; that told plainly enough that her waking-place would be where " the pure in heart shall see God." " If ever any one went to heaven out of this world, she's gone there," said Ichabod, chokingly. Those were the only words spoken by any of them. They roused little Harry gently up, and put him in the cutter with Job and the farm ' help ;* then sadly and reverently they lifted the white-robed figure of the frozen girl, and placed it in Ichabod's sleigh ; Mr. Holford and Denham walking mute beside it, while Ichabod led the horse by the rein. Thus, solemnly and quietly, they went back to what was left of Weston Farm. 104 ROSE AND MINNIE; !■ CHAPTER X. Some four years have passed ; the troubles that dis- tracted the fair land of Canada are laid to rest, and by a great number of the inhabitants they are no more thought of. The schemes of good and the plans of progress that had been arrested by that period of general disturbance and bloodshed have flowed again into their old course. Missions that were hindered are now again flourishing and increasing ; farms that were desolated have been restored ; the tide of emi- gration pours gladly once more into a land of peace and — to the thrifty and industrious — of plenty ; a bishopric has been established at Toronto, and, at Newfoundland, villages have grown into towns; and villages and towns alike rejoice in newly erected churches, and are gladdened by the chime of fes- tival bells. But no great wrong ever passes awny from the earth without leaving its bitter fruit; no evil blossoms into a bad existence and fades again, and leaves all things as if it had never been. The Otonabee still dances along over its rocky bed be- neath the dark shadows of its tall pines and its stately oaks, but the church that should have graced its bank is no more thought of; the open-hearted, dark-eyed Anoonk, so intelligent and ready to be instructed, and so influential a person, as being the chiefs wife, with all the tribe, is still in the dim twilight of her heathenism ; and a whole family still OR, THE LOYALISTS. 105 it dis- t, and I more ans of iod of [ again ndered ns that of emi- if peace plenty ; ,0, and, towns ; erected of fes- away uit; no again, The 3ed be- and its graced hearted, to be eing the the dim mily still 5S 1. y wear mourning in their hearts, and will do so ror many a long year to come, for her who was the light and stay and comfort of them all. And, alas ! how many a district, — liow many a friend, — how many a family, could tell just such a tale as this in con- nection with the rebelhon of 1837-39, varying of course in detail, but only too similar in general drift. The farm by the Otonabee has been transferred to Baptiste and Eose, who, with old Jacqueline, now live there, and boast a tiny Jean Baptiste, of whom they are not a little proud. It was too sad a dwell- ing-place for the Holfords after the terrible occur- rences, with their mournful results, of that dark Pebruary night. In fact, the whole of that part of the country had become so distasteful to Mr. Hol- ford, that he had moved down soon after into the Western District, and taken some land close by the village of St. Thomas, lying to the north of Lake Erie, where Denham, diligently pursuing his studies in the hope of one day being able to take Holy Orders, has the advantage of the help and occa- sional tuition of the excellc.t Rector, a graduate of Oxford. John Kirkpatrick's burnt farm-house is built up again, and Jessie is married and settled at Toronto. But there is one place which is a centre of attrac- tion and a bond of union to them all, whither the little, warm-hearted foster-sister Eose makes many a pilgrimage, and w here she sheds many a tear : ' i 106 ROSE AND MINNIE; OR^ THE LOYALISTS. where rough old Ichabod too sometimes goes, and comes away so softened and subdued that Cilly does not hear a rough word or an oath from his lips for many weeks : where Denham also comes when he can, and thinks over all the sweet sisterly counsel and sympathy he once had ; and gathers up anew, with fresh earnestness, all the good feelings and high resolutions with which those counsels and that sym- pathy inspired him. It is a quiet, shady grave in Peterborough churchyard, with a httle wooden cross at the head of it, and distinguished by nothing ehG save by the lovely and fresh-kept flowers which are always blooming there. Eor those who knew her, need no graven name on stone or marble to help them remember their Minnie. Only round about the pedestal of the cross Denham has written, in letters of bright azure, " The darkness is past and the true Light now shineth." PRINTED BY JAHB8 FARKEK AUD CO., CROWK-TARD, OXFORD. ft rs. s, and iy does lips for len he counsel » anew, id high at syin- ;rave in en cross iiig else licli are iCW her, to help 30ut the 11 letters the true SFORD. Vi MISCELLANEOUS TALES, a &c. "^K- ^' m' f^flmk ; or, The Queen of the Fairy Cross The Matin r.ell 01(1 Christmris . . . • . The Village Choristers . , . . Mount GaiH ; or, !M;ini.'''s Christmiis Eve The Garden of Life : an Allegory . Woodleiph ; or, Life and Death . Ann Ash ...... Angels' AVork The Californian Crusoe. A Mormon Talc Amy Grant; or. The One Motive The Two Homes . , , Dawn and Twilight. 2 vols. Ada's Thoughts Htorm and Sunsliinc The Pastor of WcUhourn The Singers of the Sanctuary Chronicles of Camber Castle Coxc's Christian Ballads. Complete . Fvonneth; or, The Rear-Guard of the) Grand Army ..... J Speculation Scholar and Trooper Footprints on the Saiuls of Time . riLGEIM'S PKOGRKSS, (forthc use of^ Children of the Church of England-. >■ Illustrated. Cloth, gilt , . . ) Cheap edition, Illustrated .... d. 4 6 6 6 6 6 6 6 6 6 C IV. 3 6 2 G LoKDON, (377, Strand) : J.vmes Taiikeu and Co, fi^^S^§. /■'\ Tm A y^w^ 5J^ ¥s: M m^ 'L\ < v.. CHILDREN. SEVEN FAIRY TALES. ly; \^' K >>! 1. Little Tno C. ami his Companions . 2. Ulric and L;iura .... •3. Sholto and his Little Dog BowowBky 4. Rose and the Fairy Helpful . 5. The Fairy Devoirpilla 6. PansoiU'i and his Sister Soigncuso . ' Bonnatura Complete in One Volunir, t/ilf cdgcn, 2s, COXE'S CHRISTIAN BALLADS. dreamland. \d. Hymn of Boyhood. liJ. England. Id. Lenten Season. It/. Chronicles. \d. f^bimcs of England. \d. Churchyards. \d. 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