IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) :.o I.I 112.8 ty If IIM i^ IIIIIM — 6" M 2.2 1.8 11-25 il.4 IIIIII.6 V] <^ /a W ^i 7 .;^ y -^ Photographic Sdences Corporation 23 WEST MAIN STREET WEBSTER, N.Y. 14580 (716) 872-4503 \ iV ^/ 12X 16X 20X 24X 28X 32X The copy filmed here has been reproduced thanks to the generosity of: Thomas Fisher Rare Book Library. University of Toronto Library L'exemplaire film6 fut reprodult grdce it la g4n6rosit6 de: Thomas Fisher Rare Book Library, University of Toronto Library The images appearing here are the best quality possible considering the condition and legibility of the original copy and in keeping with the filming contract specifications. Original copies in printed paper covers are filmed beginning with the front cover and ending on the last page with a printed or illustrated impres- sion, or the back cover when appropriate. All other original copies are filmed beginning on the first page with a printed or illustrated impres- sion, and ending on the last page with a printed or illustrated impression. Les images suivantes ont m reproduites avec le plus grand soin, compte tenu de la condition et de la nettetd de l'exemplaire filmd, et en conformity avec les conditions du contrat de filmage. Les exemplaires originaux dont la couverture en papier est imprim6e sont film6s en commencant par le premier plat et en terminant soit par la derniire page qui comporte une empreinte d'impression ou d'illustration, soit par le second plat, salon le cas. Tous les autres exemplaires originaux sont filmds en commenpant par la premidre page qui comporte une empreinte d'impression ou d'illustration et en terminant par la dernidre page qui comporte une telle empreinte. The last recorded frame on each microfiche shall contain the symbol — ♦- (meaning "CON- TINUED '), or the symbol V (meaning "END"), whichever applies. Un des symboles suivants apparaitra sur la dernidre image de chaque microfiche, selon le cas: le symbole — •»• signifie "A SUIVRE ", le symbole V signifie "FIN". Maps, plates, charts, etc., may be filmed at different reduction ratios. Those too large to be entirely included in one exposure are filmed beginning in the upper left hand corner, left to right and top to bottom, as many frames as required. The following diagrams illustrate the method: Les cartes, planches, tableaux, etc., peuvent dtre film6s d des taux de reduction diff6rents. Lorsque le document est trop grand pour dtre reproduit en un seul clich6, il est film6 d partir de Tangle supdrieur gauche, de gauche d droite, et de haut en bas, en prenant le nombre d'images ndcessaire. Les diagrammes suivants illustrent la m^thode. ' t 2 3 32X 1 2 3 4 5 6 -■jthAI^Jf^'f^ ^ <^A u §: ^ ji»vmliyTH.Sheph«rd .Ichn I'.cnnc'.i .'im' ? Nrw^'atc Slrett .03.1 SAl!?ifi'!;€Tji®FS Hv THF ALjrHGRECG v--- .-'-£ JEWS DAUCHrtK TTC CIC CAPTURE OF' THE PIRATE AT QUEBEC . V PREFACE. CoJLD I think that tho lollovring pages contained any merit suflScient to atone for their many faults, I should pen these introductory lines with a less unfaltering hand. As it is, I can only commend my book to the indulgence of the reader. If I have any satisfaction in sending it forth, the qualities productive of that satis- faction are merely of a negative character-— consisting of an absence of the false philosophies now in vogue, and the polluting pitch of licentiousness, evils which too surely convey to the inexperienced mind a poisonous contagion, more swift and deadly than that the eastern prince imbibed, while turning over the fatal leaves bequeathed him by his seer. , , . . And nonr my bubble is blown. For the evanescence ii PREFACE. of its existence I am fully prepared, and shall be wel ' content if any thing in the form or colouring of the momentary trifle please even the passing glance of the condescending beholder. But some will say life has more serious ends than to be frittered away in creating or in beholding mere bubbles. This is true to a certain extent ; yet even in bubbles there may be found matter of important observation, and touches of beauty sug- gestives of ideas refining to the taste and softening to the disposition. The Bard of Avon found " good in every thing ;" and so will most rightly tempered minds. If, then, my book wholly fails to yield improvement as well as gratification, let the reader share the blame. To those who think that the orders of fiction should be preserved as distinct from each other as the orders of architecture, both the treatment and design of this work will give great offence. It is not strictly a domestic or a sentimental story, neither is it an humorous or a fashionable story; nor does it claim kindred with any decided school whatever, but partakes, perhaps, of all. Another more serious argument among adverse critics will be this — that the professed heroine does not chiefly sustain what interest there may be found here. For (his license which I have taken I make no plea other than that the nature of my design required an exception to what I admit should be held as a general rule. FRIPACB. Ill With respect to the characters I feel that I have not done justice to my own conceptions. In the Pirate I aimed to show a man whose vices were all of an open description, and originated in one single passion, and that a comparatively rare one — the hve o(rttle. He is temperate, dignified, firm, but not cruel ; brave, cour- teous, and always suffering a secret struggle between his principles and the enthralling power of his master passion. His son, Clinton^ was drawn from the life, and therefore should have been more skilfully portrayed. The goddess to which he s&crifices himself and others is pleasure. Of a poetical temperament, of a delicate organisation answering to the faintest play of fancy and feeling, without any fixed principles to guard these dangerous gifts, he plunges, upon the first disappoint- ment he meets in life, into dissipation, and, as an almost natural consequence, into fraud, to support that dissipation. His culpable conduct to the artless Lucy, is a picture of what too frequently takes place in real life. The proud lords of creation can descend to very petty vanity, and in order to gratify it will peril the peace of ^.he young and inexperienced female without remorse. In suddenly removing Clinton from fortune and happiness to a grave beside hor, I have performed an act of poetical justice. Of the other persons who figure in this story I shall here say nothing more than 1 W I? PRBPAOI. that £ucy is perhaps the female character most likely to interest the readers* affectioru — Jeme, their e^eem^^ Lad, ffetieVf their imagination. I have onlj now to request that those persons who have honoured the present work during its progress through the press with their very liberal patronage, will accept from me many heartfelt thanks, and some apolo- gies. I say some^ because I wish it to be distinctly under- stood that only once, and that at the commencement of my task, have I been the cause of those vexatious de- lays that have occurred in the publication. This grievous fault, and others more depending on mv own efforts, will, I trust, be found remedied in the Historical Romance I have recently undertaken, to which, in conclusion, I beg to solicit the kmd attention of my well wishen. ^ I HE CANADIAN GIRL ; or., THE IPQEAITE ©I? T'^MltE LAKES- CHAPTER I. She wandered on from morn to night ; High were the trees— the lake waa broad ; And not a sheltering roof in sight, Nor friend to cheer the lonely road. Toward the close of a warm and bright day, a young girl was walking alone in one of the sublime wildernesses of Upper Canada. She might be fourteen or sixteen years of ace. Her head and feet were uncovered ; and the tattere^d English frock which she wore, with tight sleeves, barely hiding her shoulders, left her arms also exposed, ns she walked slowly, she leaned on a strong branch of a tree that she had picked up, but it was evident, that even with the assistance of this, she could scarcely move om\ rds, so much was she fatigued. In truth, her solitary journeying had continued nearly 9 Tin: ( \\.\i i\\ cinr., all the (lav ; during \vlii( li time slu* liad not seen une human habitation. FJonndlcss woods surrounded her; and, with the lake whoso margin she pursued, were silent to aw fulness. Scarce a l)ird amonj; the trees or on the water was seen or heard ; sometimes a lawn darted from the thicket on her right to slake its thirst in the clear broad stream, and at the sight of tiie girl, scoured off to join its companions ^t a distance ; hut the noise the animal made tended rather to heighten, than disturb, the deep rej)Ose of the scene. The brief Canadian «nnimer had opened here all its finest beautic s, which the mois- ture exhaled from the lake, prevented from becoming scorched and withered. The soil, always fertile, had now cast up its rarest productions, which no band of man had sown or planted. Long grass, of a brilliant green, covered all th(> wild imdulations of the ground, as far as the windings of the hike and the woods permitted them to be seen. Herbage, in luxuriant variety, mingled with the grass, and exhibited the utmost freshness, its tints comprising all shades of green, with sometimes a bright brown or red. Occasionally, openings in the tangled underwood, revealed spots of fairy-like beauty, sheltered under the long overhanging branches (tf enormous trees, and in such spots the few coy flowers Avhich graced the solitude, were principally gathered. There were six majestic trees standing apart from the thicket to which they belonged, like a family growing in close union, side by side : their far-extending roots touched the water, and their combined foliage formed a dark shade upon the grass for a considerable distance round about them. They were Canadian oaks, of ancient growth, and of mure than the usual size of that species. THK CANADIAN UIRL. 8 As tlic girl {idvaiicod toward theso oaks, sho perceived that the knotty (ibrcs of their roots mado the ground, on the lak(! side, very hard and unequal for her blistered feet, thoreloro she turned aside to the thicket, and fol- lowed its course instead of that of the stream. She had not gone many yards forward before she heard the dick of a rille behind, and turning her head quickly beheld two Indian hunters in the shade of the detached group of oaks ; one was on his knee taking aim at some object on the top of a tall cotton-wood tree, just beyond the spot where she stood, and the other stood in an easy attitude by his companion's side, ready to watch the re- sult of the shot. The next moment the frightfid scream of a young eagle rang through the air at the same time with the startling report of the rifle. The noble bird fell to the earth beating its wide wings with a loud noise, in the agony of death. " We have her — we have her!" shouted both the hunters, in the Indian tongue, springing forward to seize their prize. " 'Tis the calumet eagle, brother,'* said the taller hunter, " tliat carried off the red deer so gallantly, last sunset ; she's as brave a white-head as ever wore plume. I know her own screech — it is the loudest and the fiercest I ever heard." " She has scree( hed her last, poor bird l'' said the other, who was a twin- brother of the hunter who had just sicken. " We are i)i luck to day! this has heou the best shot aimed for these twelve moons paat! Come, help me to sling it upon my back." The tallest hunter, however, stood >\ itn his keen black eyes fixed with awe upon the thicket, and allowed his brother to buckle the leathern strap diound the body of 4 THn CANADIAN GIRL, the eagle, unassisted. The two Indians exactly resembled each other in all points, excepting height. They were well-made, muscular, and handsome; and apparently had no more than just reached the period of manhood. Their countenances expressed openness, honesty, and darinof : they were inseparable at all times. Their rifles were made of the same kindof dark wood, of one length, and of the same weight ; the pouch and horn which each had hanging from the shoulder, were of one shape and size; and the scanty, primitive garment of skins, with the hair outwards, was worn alike upon both figures. In the deer-skin belt drawn around each waist was placed a broad knife in a leathern sheath, with a stout handle of buckhorn, both made of one pattern. " What is it that my brother sees ?" asked the shorter Indian, who was stooping over the eagle, and with aston- ishment perceived the awe-struck looks of his companion, for which he could discern no adequate cause. " SoMy!" cried the other, with uneasiness: " 'Twas a white spirit! No woman of the Pale-faces would be abroad here — 'tis an impossibility ! If she had the foot of a hunter, she could not reach the nearest settlement before to morrow's dawn I" A few more words passed between the Indians, and then leaving the bird which thev had had the unusual good fortune to bring down, they pressed side by side into the thicket, whore the girl had appeared to the taller hunter — but she was not to be seen. " What did I say to ytui ?" said the Indian who had espied her. '• Did I not see a white spirit that had come from the Indian's happy hunting-grounds whitlu'r our fathers are gone?" THE CANADIAN GIRL. " We will search further/" said the other, sending a keen glance around: " there may be some Pale-faces here, from tl:e farm of the good old white man, the Pastor, as they call him — he that teaches them out of the Great Book : they come many days journey to hear him ; they may be lying shaking in the grass now, for fear, thinking we are savage hunters who would take them prisoners and scalp them. These Pale-faces, brother, have womens hearts, and their women are like the fawns, they drop down at the sound of a rifle !" " JNo ; it was a white spirit," said the taller ; " I saw it pass under these outside trees, alone, before you fired. Hark ! did not the bushes rustle'?" and he stooped with his hand in that of his brother, attentively listening for a considerable time. All was still, however ; and they both became convinced that no human beinof was near: fuUv satisfied of this, after the most vijjilant watchfulness, ■J O / they returned to the spot where they had left the bird of prey. The taller Indian looked on with quiet exultation, uliile the other traced the passage of the lead through its body. " A clean shot, Sassa !" said he, turning it over, and pointing with his finger to the ruffled and stained feathers on the left side of the breast. " It hit her right under the wing!" Sassa disdained to express the pleasure he felt, but it was sufficiently seen in the dancing light of his fearless eye, and in the proud, but smiling curve, of his lip. Grasping the legs of the eagle with both hands, and exerting all his muscles to support the weight, the shorter Indian swung the bird on his back, and proceeded with it to the side of the lake. Sassa followed, carrvino- the 6 TnB CANADIAN GIRL. two rifles on his right arm, while his left assisted in supporting the body of the eagle, the left hand affection- ately resting on the farthest shoulder of his brother. " This is the first calumet eagle you have touched since we have hunted together, Sassa," said he who born the bird. " It is a rare piece of luck ! but who can tell," he added, " that it always lived in a nest ? Our peopio have wonderful traditions ; and the good white Pastor told us, Sassa, what we know to be true, that the Great Spirit can do greater things than we know of Who can tell," he said, turning upon his brother a look of real seriousness, " long before the crack of a bullet was heard in the Canadas, or the mocassin on the foot of an Indian had pressed the grass of the wilderness, the spirit of the eagle you have killed might have dwelt in another shape — the shape you have just seen, Sassa ?"" " Would the spirit of an eagle dwell in a woman of the White race, when it was once so seklom found in their men ?" asked Sassa. The other did not reply ; but throwing down his burden at the edge of the water, stood reflecting; then exclaimed under the sudden im- pulse of that generous affection for which both these Indians were remarkable, " I am glad my brother struck the eagle ! It is fit that Sassa, who has tho steadiest hand, and sharpest eye, among the braves of our tribe, should win feathers with his own rifle for his head ! It shall be told to his honour before the aged hunters in our lodges !" Sassa stretched out his hand — and his proud lips quivered with manly s'^wsibility, as, emulating the grace- ful humility of the other, he said, " The old huntf.rs have given my brother the nam*> of the Eagle Eye; and the buffalo, and moose-deer, know that ids hand is stt ady !" THE CANADIAN GIRL. 7 He paused — leaning in a dignified attitude on his rifle, then resumed, with something of passion in the depth of his tones, " Shall I tell the son of my father, that our hearts are as one ? This eagle which he sees, is his ; and the buck, whose plump side sheathed his arrow to the head yesterday — is mine. Have we not one lodge ? Do we not eat together? The Pale-faces have taken away our woods on the west, (where Lake Erie, and the rivers wliich run inland, have borne our fathers canoes,) but here they come more slowly — ^here they dread more the snow and the cold. My brother and I, with the few that remain of our tribe, will hunt here as our fathers hunted in days past ; and Sassa will die with his fellow hunter— for he was born with him !" As he concluded, a canoe, covered with sheets of birch-bark, which had been hidden under the bushes and weeds of the bank, shot into sight upon the water. The valuable prize the hunters had obtained was placed between them in (he narrow vessel, and they were soon at the opposite side of the lake, where vast trees formed a dark wall, growing within the boundary of the stream. From the hollow trunk of a decayed beech-tree, when the twin-brothers had disappeared, stepped the girl, half doubtful that she had indeed concealed herself so effec- tually. She looked anxiously on all sides ; and then, with the aid of her branch, again endeavoured to move for- ward; but her limbs failed to perform their office, and she sank on the ground. Night came on, and mists rising from the lake, hung suspended between the sky and the earth; but the air was soft and refreshing to the wearied and fevered girl. She had found a little honev in the tree-hollow which I 8 THE f.A.N/. i;i.\N Gii;i„ had sheltered her, and had spread it over half of a small cake that had been given to her when she started upon her extraordinary journey ; with this she drank a little fresh water, that she obtained in the hollow of her hands from a rill which bubbled up from the jjround within the labyrinth of the thicket, and flowed past her temporary resting place. When the last morsel of her cake was eaten, she clasped her hands on her knee, and looked lip fixedly to the darkening heavens. Her lips moved with inward prayer ; and instead of expressing appre- hension, her pale countenance was irradiated with a smile of thankfulness. She next arranged for herself a couch of balsam-tree boughs, and broad leaves, in a spot entirely hidden from sight, just within the thicket, and there yielded to the welcome slumber that stole swiftly over her senses. When she awoke, it was with a convulsive start, and she sprang up crying in shrill tones that sounded far through the thicket, " Father — father — take me in the boat! Leave me not in the burning ship 1 O, father, as you hope for mercy, save me I save me !" The words died off on her tongue, as, trembling from head to foot, she revived to consciousness. Looking at her bed of balsam, her lips moved again with thankful emotions. She kneeled down, and thanked the Almighty that she was safe. It was strange that so young a girl, entirely unprotected, in a place so wild, and lonely, should be thankful for her safety ! Yet so it was — and the feeling was ardent too, again producing a flickering smile on her lips, as she took up her branch with renewed activity, and proceeded on her toilsome way. The mists were dissipated by the rising sun, which threw its long THE CANADIAN GIRL. tracks of fire on the lake. Wild-ducks were floating out from their coverts, and arranging their feathers with their bills ; woodcocks and snipes, in considerable numbers, added to the exhiliration of the scene ; and, as the lake narrowed, she heard the loud clarion notes of a pair of majestic swans, that moved slowly and heavily over the surface of the water. The heat increased; — but she walked onwards with the steadiness and speed of one who had from her birth been inured to danger, hardship, and fatigue, and who was supported by a resolution based upon no common motives, which buoyed up her spirits to a pitch above that usual with woman. About the time of noon she rested in a sweetly shaded spot, where she providentially found a piece of bison- meat and some scraps of renison, which had been cooked and left by hunters; there were other remnants scattered around, all of which she collected in the skirt of her frock, as she acknowledged with tears, the kindness of Him who feeds the young ravens when they cry. Thus re- plenished, she felt new vigour, and, hope leading the way, she pressed on once more, having bound around her feet some broad leaves which defended them for a time from the ground. When the leaves wore oflF she replaced them with fresh ones, but by this time the way had grown much softei* and easier, lying on a gentle descent, and covered with a thick layer of turf, and tender grass ; a breeze, most grateful and refreshing, abated the fervent heat ; and cascades, and small water courses, delightfully varied the plain upon which she was now entering, and replied to the soft murmurings of the breeze with a soothing, and stilly sound. « . I 10 THB CANADIAN OIBU CHAPTER II. " I would you did but see how the storm cliaf-'S, how it rages, how it tali 08 up the shore ! but that's not to the point."— Shakspe ire, " They hurried us aboard a bark ; Boro us some loajjups to sea ! whore they prepar'd A rntteii carcase of a boat, not rigg'd, Nor laclcle, sail, nor mast ; the very rats Instinctively had quit it : there they hoist us, To cry to the sea that roar'd to us ; to sigh To the winds, whose pity sighing back again, Did U6 but loving wrong." — Sliakspeare, The recollections of the young girl just introduced, went as far back as her fourth birthday. On that day she was in the interior of a ship which tossed very much under one o^ those violent storms which are so frequent and dangerous on Lake Superior. — This lake is the largest and most elevated, as well as the most remote, of the singular inland chain of great North American seas of fresh water, which, says a writer, " may well be considered the wonder and admiration of the world ;" beyond this lake, lie interminable wastes of the dreariest possible description, utterly uninhabitable, and buried under perpetual winter. During that storm she remembered lying in her fa- ther's cabin, while he sat by her, eudeavouring in a very THE CANADIAN GIRL. 11 kind manner, to keep down the terror which every now and then caused her to scream aloud, and to cling round his neck in convulsions. Frequently he was called upon deck, by the title of " Mate !" and then an old sailor, called Toby Haverstraw, took her father's place, and administered brandy to her. The storm being over, she was led by her fiither to the forepart of the vessel, and shown the boiling waves, which, as far as the eye could see, appeared like mountains of white foam, inter- sected by pitchy vallies, and gulfs of frightful depth. The clouds seemed to hang so low as almost to touch the crests of these dazzling and innumerable heights — ^and altogether, the spectacle was such as the child could never forget. It prpcijjitated her mind forwards in intel- ligence, and roused lier faculties to premature action. She could retrace with what extraordinary quickness, after that day, she had imbibed new ideas, and how swiftly her capacity for affection had enlarged itself Her father was loved with more and more devotedness ; — the water and the skv unfolded more and more wonders: — the ship was more and more a place of strange occur- rences ; — and these composed her world for several years. She became pleased with every variation of the atmosphere. She learnt by degrees to admire the very phenomena which caused her dread. Isolated from all but her father, and ignorant of the world, she early en- tertained the design of devoting her life to his good. He was a man of proud and careless mien, and of a reserved, disdainful temper, which had procured him the nickname of " Seignior," among the crew, who, nevertheless, paid great deference to his distinguished nautical skill and courage. He seldom suffered his child i 12 THE CANADIAN GIRL. to leave his cabin in order to go on deck, unless in company with him, and then never kept his eye off from her until she returned to it again. When she was getting dull, he would send in Toby Ilaverstravv to entertain her by answering her multitudinous questions concerning such a coast, such a sea, or such a storm ; and to provoke her to question him further, the sailor would tell tales of marvellous events that he had picked up from seamen at diffbrent periods of his marine life. Hence, Toby be- came also much loved by Little Jenny, which was the name he bestowed on her. The use of these two words was a particular favour permitted to Toby by the mate her father, and to him only, for none else were allowed to address her by any other but the English appellation — Miss Anderson. Her father himself called her Jane, ^s did likewise the captain — a grave, good old man, who seemed to leave all the active management of the ship to Leonard Anderson — his mate. Jane was sometimes left on shore in the care of persons on whom her father could rely — once she was left at Quebec, in Lower Canada, in the house of the captain's lady, where she learnt more of the true nature of right and wrong, of good and evil — with the addition of the ordinary rudiments of female education — than ever she had learnt before. There was an originality about the little girl that delighted Madame Barry, and she took considerable pains with her. This lady was childless, having lost her only son in the disease known as the March fever. Lonfr-endurinsr grief for his loss had imparted to her bearing an air of touching melancholy, which called forth the sympathy of ^11 who approached her. She constantly retained her THE CANADIAN GIRL. 13 mourning dress, which she purposed oaring without chanjre durinjr the remainder of her life. Its never- varying style, a la Francaise, rather stiff and antique, but charmingly relieved with snowy-white frills, ker- chiefs, and ruffles, harmonised with, and expressed her character; her precise head-dress, composed of white crape, under the surveillance of a reputed French- Canadian milliner of Quebec — suited very well the settled placidity and gravity of her matron features, which were marked with the sorrows and trials of fifty years. The captain, her husband, was fifteen years older than herself, and it was while Jane Anderson was at his house that he was gone upon what he had hoped would prove his last expedition, before he finally gave up a sea life. And his last expedition it proved — for he never returned more. Madame Barry, leading Jane by the hand, daily visited the Quebec Harbour in search of her husband's vessel, or with the expectation of receiving some intelligence of it; but month after month passed away, after the period when his return was ex- pected, and hope was gradually changed into agonising doubt and apprehension. At length Madame Barry re- ceived tidings that a vessel had been cast away in the north channel of the St. Lawrence, between He aux Cou- dres and Quebec, where many shipwrecks had before occurred. Further particulars arrived to confirm her worst fears ; and at length it was proved, beyond all doubt, that it was Captam Barry's vessel which had sunk almost in eight of the bay of La Prairie, on the north side of He aux Coudres, and it was supposed that all on board had perished. But in a short time after came still more distressing i; i M THE CANADIAN OmL. tidings. Tlie weather, at the time of the wrccUInf* of the Antelope vessel, belonf»inf]r to Captain Barry, had been particularly calm, and this circumstance, joined with others of a still more suspicious nature, led to the appalling supposition that the ship had been purposely found»!red by some of the crew. Madame Bar-" no sooner became convinced of the truth of this report, than she sold olfher few possessions and entered a convent of Quebec, Ui)j)er Town. Pitying the forlorn condition of Jane Anderson, whose father she supposed had perished with the captain, Madame would have taken the friendless girl into the convent with her, and would have provided for her educauou ind mainte- nance there, unti^ she was grown to a mort advanced age. But her kindly intentions were frustraed, by the sudden disappearance of the object for whose benefit they were exerted. Jane was wandering in the extensive garden adjoining Madame Barry's residence, when her father and Toby Haverstraw appeared on the path before her, just within the gate. She would have screamed for joy, but was prevented by the former, who immediately took her to the St. Lawrence river, and placed her in a small boat, which, rowed by Toby and another sailor, quickly reached a long, but liglitly-framed ship, that Jane had never seen before. Upon this vessel she heard her father hailed as " Captain," instead of " Mate," the latter office beinir now assijrned to Tobv Haverstraw. Before she had done wondering at this and other strange alterations, for which she could not account, and of which she received no explanation, Leonard Anderson directed tlie " Vulture " to be set for- ward up the St. Lawreuce, toward the great Lakes q\ wrecking of I Barry, had ance, joined ?, led to the )n purposely need of the V possessions ivn. Pitying se father she dame would nt with her, xnd mainte- t advanced I' e;l, by the benefit they *'A '^.. ,\ n • ,vv; m adjoining p and Toby , just within )y, but was k her to the )oat, which, )hed a long, leen before. " Captain," assigned to )nderinff at she could xplanation, I be set for- it Lakes oi' : ' ti trawn byT!I\Shei ■■•8r>i a;; -J siKi": .j\Sh '.AY 1-OW.N hi' ,\ SKTTl.Kvr. WoBwtfMKTT^ u.ais^oii A- y„-iv •. THB CANADrAN OinL. lil Upper Canada.— It was done ;— and tho Pirato (for such was Anderson now) contliiiRul navi;jfating on these in- land soas, his 'hiu;,'htor living in his cahin, until the pe- riod of tho opening of our story, when Jane had left tho ship under circumstances of peculiar terror, and had fled for refuge to the wilderness. At tho evo of iier second day's journey, being exhausted, she lay down hy a settlement and slept. She had walked during those two days from a river connected with tho Ottawa, a d stance of thirty or foity miles, but had now, though she know it not, reached tho place of her desti- nation. She was roused about midnight by tho noise of a North American rattle-snake, one of which had coiled itself under some dwarf bank-pines almost close by the felled tree on which she had pillowed her head. She arose immediately; but found her joints so stiff and painful that she could scarcely stand. Now, indeed, her heart sank fearfully; she stood moveless for a consider- able time, hardly daring to breathe, but yet all the time endeavouring to call up sufficient of that energetic courage, which was native in her heart, to resist the in- fluences of her dreadful situation ! Presently, while a clammy dew overspread her face and her hands, while she appeared under tho starry sky, and amid the dusky foliage, as a fixed and rigid figure of marble, the cautious dash of the paddle of a canoe came upon her ear as the most welcome sound ever heard beneath heaven. She turned her head in the direction from whence the sound had come, and beheld a scene of the most picturesque description : — an oval basin of calm clear water from the lake lay stretched out in front of numerous log-houses and cabins, which were backed by lofty pines, firs, and 111 I ; 16 THE CANADIAN GIRL. cedars ; its banks were formed of high and wild green slopes, thickly bordered with bank-ijincs, juniper shrubs, and other small trees, such as flourish principally in low, well-watered districts. The dark surface of the water mirrored these around its edges, while in the centre the twinkling orbs above were reflected with all their solemn beauty. But the eye of the girl gazed not at any of those parts of the picture — neither did she take any notice of the bold ridge of rocky hills which ran by the settlement on the right, exhibiting a lofty mass of shade, and an out- line of positive grandeur — nor did she observe on the left, an abrupt and deep ravine, which descended from the level land; — ^but her eye was strained throu 'h the all- pervading glooraj on perhaps a dozen bright red lights, which were burning near together — sometimes stationary, sometimes moving — a few inches above the surface of the water. She knew they were formed of blazing pine- knots, placed in iron baskets at the heads of fishing-boats; and thus she was aware that succour was nigh. ** Ah !" she cried, trembling and weeping with ex- citement, " I shall yet be safe ! I have reached the 8*»ttlement whereto I was directed. In a few minutes — only a few minutes — I shall have made the fishers hear me, and then I need fear no more !" She endeavoured to call aloud, but her voice was weak and hoarse, with the heavy cold she had caught by sleeping on the damp ground. Having walked with pain and difficulty to that part of the bank nearest the lights, and farthest from the dangerous rattle-snake which she had espied, she again strove to attract the attention of the fishers ; but failing, sat down close to the water and wept aloud, drooping Iier head on her knees, and clasping her bands over it i vild green er shrubs, ly in low, the water entro the ^ir solemn y of those notice of settlement id an out- )u the left, I from the h tlie all- red lights, stationary, surface of Lzing pine- ing-boats; TUB CANADIAN UIRL- i7 \ <' i ••• ; fj:' : .':. ' •/ \\ :.•-. i. ■: • V uj^.y' . ;: : ".7 I " • , ;-■ V' jiA ; CHAPTER III. " What is my offence?"— iS^Xr«j)e - ■ h', " Judgment !" muttered the farmer (or backwoods- man), casting his eye toward a young man of very pre- possessing exterior, who advanced to the left side of the arm-chair in which the benevolent pastor sat. " Judg- ment! were I on the States-frontier, out of reach of the law — a tough hiccory-branch, and a stout cord, should soon give the rogue judgment ! There ho stands, pastor V' continued the half-wild settler aloud, pointing to the youth, who. with a smile of calm contempt seemed to defy his threats: — "there he stands — the knave I »»i!h that cursed care-for-nothing look of his — which I TVB CANADIAN GIRL. If rtmeut were horn Pastor d people — ard in such ^ill you be thing of the ntly rapped rds; and at uarter of an of the farm, f his angry please you, itor, " I win. y for me to »r, and place ist first hear inverse with give such a backwoods- [)f very pre- t side of the t. « Judg- of reach of stout cord, re ho stands, ud, pointing empt seemed -the knave t lis — which I gn^ has stolen away the wits of all the foolish gn)$ in the two farms !" — ... '* Softly, my godd Joshua," interrupted the pastor ; ♦* we will see justice done to you — do not fear. What is your name, young man V* - " Nicholas Clinton," replied the person addressed, with a peculiarly pleasing tone of voice, accompanied by a respectful bend of the head. ^ " And your country ?" demanded the venerable pastor. " Germany " " Germany — Germany — " repeated the interrogator — ^your name is not German — T think ! it is more like one of my own country. Your appearance is English, too." At these words Nicholas Clinton avoided the pas* tor's eye, and appeared slightly embarrassed. %:r,( ' " And how long have you been from Germanv V* said Pastor Wilson. .' - ; . .s>^ ,4 " Nearly four years," replied Clinton. " And what were your intentions in emigrating hither r " I came to see a near relative, my moiuer, who lived in Lower Canada," was the reply ; " but the ship in which I sailed was foundered ; its commander, Captain Barry, and all his crew sank with it. I got to land by floating on a piece of the wreck, until a passing vessel picked me up. Afterwards, I made my way with great difficulty to this part of the country, and then — ^" " He imposed on me, so that 1 took him into my farm !'* exclaimod the backwoodsman ; " and here he has been treated like one of my own sons — let him deny itifhecanl" ,i i;-'^ ^^.''. ^i ',: ,; ■.*...., >;. i ,f- .,• ^j, , " I never will deny it !" said Clinton. " I have found m 15; : K) TIIS CANADIAN- aiRU you hospitable and generous — and I have done all thftt lay in my power to repay you. Certainly — I could not toil as you and your sons have toiied : my frame/' he said, stretching out his arms, and surveying his verj slight figur3 with a smile, " is of a different quality from your's.— I was never made to wield the hatchet ; — but I have kept your reckonings — penned your letters — con- tracted your bargains — and seen your timber floatecl down the Ottawa, for sale — besides — " ; . . " Corrupting the household!" cried farmer Joshua,^ with a look of rage. --.! i " Whom have I corrupted?" asked Clinton, very coolly. : .., =. ..;,.>. .;,.-•;: ;. - ■ -i It j^. " Whom !" repeated the backwoodsman. " Here, Dan — ^Dan, step out into the light, boy) and tell your tale !" With an air of authority he beckoned as he spoke to one of his sons, whom the females of the household were endeavouring to keep back. "Come hither, Dan — or it will be worse for you !** exclaimed the fathfir. " Put aside the babbling women, and tell Pastor Wilson the truth. — Do you hear !" The last three words were pronounced with startling |>ower, and they were answered immediately by the ap- proach of Dan to the head of the room, whither he was followed close by his mother and sisters. " If you speak one word more than is true — ^may your tongue be blistered for a twelvemonth !" said the settler's wife. *'■ > '■' ''• - ♦tjf i:;> :* ' ^«t^ --.i • « Go ! — you were always a mischief-maker, and a trouble-sower, you were, Dan! Could nothing serve your turn, but you must set this fire raging ?" cried M» eldvist sister, with bitter emphasis, .a .. ■• ^ . . TRB CANADIAN OIRL. II ** I piirss,'* said Dan, casting a half*Rpol(^elic luok totrard Clinton, " I have made more stir here than 1 meant to make." " Why I am glad to hear you say so !" said the pastor, who felt secretly much interested for the youth. " Well, then, after all it is some slight offence — nothing of any consequence, which Nicholas Clinton has committed.*' " He tells you a lie, if he says it is no more !" cried the settler. " There was a time when no son of mine durst stand and speak a lie in my hearing ! and as it is —I warn him — I warn himl'* . .v< -''• c'^*•' ->'v' " Father," said Dan, laying his hand on the settler's arm, " I will tell the pastor every word I told you— only do not let mother and the girls rail on me. — ^Bid them not look at me as if I invented the story to drive out Clinton from our house. As sure as I am standing on our own 'arth, mother," he continued, turning toward the females, " I mean Clinton no harm ! You know no one in the farm had the liking for him I had. Havn't I taken his part often when my brothers complained against him? — Havn't I been his friend up to this present lime V* *• Its true ! — Its true 1" cried the settler : " I have noticed it." -v. 'v 'r,^.^., r. j.._ ■ .».;,•,. " His friebd!" reiterated the mistress of the farm.— *♦ You havn't man enough in you, Datt, to beany raan's friend — you know you havn't!' ., y:,rt s *' Go— go !" exclaimed the three young women, ' with stinging disdain. *' You take his part !"— Ill would ' betidd Clinton's cause— if only Dan were to defend it !" " There now, father !" cried Dan ; " they mock me and upbraid me, as ifl — *' ,.*. ,,- *>>fi7-^ • ... S2 TUB CANADIAN OIRL. <* Go on r' imperatively exclaimed the settler ; and his sou hastened to give a tolerably clear account of Clinton's offence. The very large apartment in which this animated scene occurred, was, as we have said, the principal room of the farm. The praiseworthy industry of the settler's wife and daughters, had kept this, and every other part of the building, in a state of thorough cleanliness. The eye could not rest upon any spot which indicated neglect All was well ordered, shining, and regular. The com- monest utensils were made to serve for ornament as well as use. The three expansive window-benches were loaded with flowers ; and the white-washed walls were hung with ranks of implements of husbandry, fishing, and hunting spears, rifles, knives, shot-pouches, dirks, &c., which were kept in admirably neat array — ready for instant use — by the four sons of the settler. The fire- place, in the centre of the apartment, consisted only of a vast hearth, and a chimney ; which, being without fire, afforded the inmates of the farm another spot for di playing the flowers of the season. The lower end of the room, connected with the kitchen, exhibited a goodly collection of trenchers and drinking cups, in rows, on each side of the doorway — ^the upper rows being of bright metal, the under rows of polished horn. The opposite end of the room led into the sleeping apartments, and it was at this end that the pastor sat, in a large easy chair, to decide, in his capacity of magistrate, upon the case brought before him. He was nearly seventy years of age, but his cheek was fresh and ruddy, and his frame bore not the slightest vestige of decay: his silver hairs were covered with an English clerical hat, looped up at THE CANADIAN OIBL. V9 Uia ades : his figure was perfectly upright, and one }eg rested horizontally over the other, neatly coveted with black cloth gaiters. He retained, in these sohtudes, the black dress, the white lawn ends depending from his cravat, and the silver knee and shoe-buckles, which had together characterised liis appearance when, in former years, he resided on a benefice of the county of Suffolk, in England. His countenance expressed the goodness and mildness of his disposition ; his manners were unas- suming and kindly; and his speech was particularly persuasive, affectionate, and instructive. u',' c r.- .-, 7 At his left hand, stood in an easy, careless position, the young man who was known in the farm as Nicholas Clinton, " the scholar." His throat had been bared on account of the heat, and its uncommon fairness con- trasted the sunburnt tinge of his face, which, however, added richness to, rather than injured, his almost femi- nine complexion. His figure was rather below the middle height, very slenderly formed, but of most ac- curate proportions, making up in activity what it wanted in strength. His manners were such as might have been formed by superior education and society; and yet, to a very close observer, there was something in them not easily to be defined, which was not altogether satisfactory. On the surface, he was all that was pleasing ; and no one knew better how to adapt himself to different characters in order to accomplish an object — ^than Nicholas Clinton. . ^ , .^ Farmer Joshua, the Canadian settlor, from the States, who was standing opposite Clinton, might bo viewed in some respects, as a specimen of his class. He stood mora than six feet in height — sinewy — shrunken— "Of great h!! h-. 1 II li * TRB CANADIAN OIRU itrength— and unrefined manners. His dress was ft long broirn surtout, of the coarsest possible manufketnr^ irith leg^ngs of the same sort of cloth. His face hftd been exposed to the elements until it had become neailj at dark as that of an Indian, and bu&ay black hair, matted ftbove it, considerably added to the uncivilised character of his aspect. A slouching stoop of the shoulders, mftde his height seem less than it was, and in some measure disguised the strength which he possessed. There waa in his features an invincible independence, a perfect re- liance on his own resources, and a patriarchal authority. The inroads of civilization into the wilds which he had penetrated, he viewed with great jealousy ; and his aver- sion against persons from civilised parts, was easily ez«' cited, and difficult to be overcome. - The sons of the settler all more or less resembled him* Hie eldest, who bore his father*s name, had married the daughter of a States frontier-man, and had built a farm vA cleared some acres of land around it, at a convenient distance firom that in which he had been reared up. On the present day he had joined his brothers and sisters in Ms father^s house, to hear the charge which Dan, the settler^s second son, had brought against the favourite — Clinton. The wife of farmer Joshua the elder, was in ^nost re- spects a partner suitable for him. She w.vs robust, ac- tive, and cleanly, although violent in her temper, and rough in her manners. Her daughters inherited her virtues and infirmities ; but few more healthy, lively energetic women existed, than those brought up beneath ihe eeitlor^s roof. Refinement, which so much enhances the beauty of the sex, is not without many attendant THE (JANADIAN GIRL 25 evils, trom which these persons were free. The perfection of the female condition, perhaps, would be, when, to the attainments, the soilness, and sensibility of polite society, were added the advantages of the uncultivated. The forlorn Jane dropped her netting as Dan spoke his charge against Clinton. She saw that all parties were expectant, and as Clinton had behaved to her very kindly, her sensibility was awakened for him, and she tremblingly hoped he would be cleared from the threatening dis- honour. When her eye turned toward the accuser, and from him to the accused, the contrast between them in- creased her prepossession for the latter ; and, misled by fancy and by deceptory appearances, she entertained not a doubt of his innocence. Her own acquaintance with misfortune, the sense of her own solitary situation, united with inexperience, induced her to yield to first impress- sions in favour of Clinton, without examination. He had thrilled her youthful heart, when he told the pastor his brief story, and tears of pity and of sympathy filled her eyes. She had ill endured to hear and see the settler's behaviour to him ; her colour came and went ; she breathed quick THB CANADIAN OIRL. 27 r overcome* « I was," replied Clinton, colouring, as some secret remombranco was awakened by the inquiry. " You have been accustomed to writing, to books, and to accounts ?" asked the pastor. Clinton replied in the affirmative. " But for this untoward affair, I should havelbeen glad to accept your services," said the pastor. " You honour me," said Clinton, bowing; and while the receding flush left a paleness on his cheek, a half smile played on his lips. " And now, Nicholas Clinton," cried the pastor, " let us hear your answer to the settler's son." " No, sir," said Clinton, with a negligent air ; " 1 make no answer to hiniy whom I too perfectly despise ! I would not put myself to the trouble. He has declared my offence — it is for you to give judgment, (which I trust will be severe enough to satisfy the farmer,) and so the matter is concluded." The pastor deliberated, and found it difficult to en- tertain a serious belief that Clinton's intentions had really been of so guilty a nature as Dan described. The lattei had evidently been reluctant to give his testimony, and had faltered in different parts of it ; he had contradicted himself more than once, and both at the commencement and termination had said with anxiety, that perhaps Clinton might not have meant exactly what he said. Then the pastor considered what Clintoa had remarked concerning his own disposition and habits ; and the good man could not but feel that the scholar must have been very much out of his proper element here, where manners were so rough, language so unpolished, ignorance of literature so entire. He saw at once that the settler and Clinton could never have assiml'-tpd, and therefore far- 28 THK CANADIAN OTRL. j 1 ill .1 ''! mer Joshua's bitterness did not in the least prejudice his mind against the young man, but on the contrary, rather disposed him to bo lenient. Suspicions more than once crossed his mind, that the whole charge was an in- vention on the part of Dan, and it was under this im- pression that ho again requested Clinton to defend him- self if he could do so. " Sir," said Clinton, " only to yourself will I conde- scend to make any remarks upon this most extraordinary accusation ; and I entertain not tho remotest hope that by them, I shall at all succeed in removing tho stain from my character. Reputation is a brittle thing, and once broken, there is no repairing it. But you will perhaps be surprised if I attempt to turn my enen '- weapons against himself; in other words, if I chargj him with tho very design which he has said was mine. He told mo there were dollars to a considerable amount concealed here, or I should not have known that circumstance ; and he needed my counsel how to turn the money to most account, or he would not have risked a discovery by placing confidence in me. When I was fully master of his intentions, I resolutely told him, that, if ho did not immediately swear to abandon them, I would expose him ; then, as I imagine, fear drove him upon this supposed remedy — and I am made the scape-goat of his guilt" " What depravity !" exclaimed the pastor. " To whatever part of the world men go, there does evil flourish among them !" " Now mav I never handle an axe, or shoulder a riflo more," cried the settler " if this is not the blackest lie that ever mortal coined ! Dan ! havn't you a word to say f'>- yourself? Are you struck dumb 1 I'd wager my y TIIR CANADIAN OIRL. 20 rlf^ht arm, boy, you shouM speak quick enough, if it warn't for the law, you should !*' The jKistor fixed a frowning look on the settler's son, who displayed to appearance all the signs of guilt on his face, his eyes being wildly fixed on Clinton, while his lips moved inarticulately, and a burning red hue ensan- guined his bronzed visage. Dan had been the least liked in the settlor's household, except by his father, who regarded all his children equally with strict impartiality. At this unexpected turn of af- fairs, family pride naturally inchncd even those who had always been jarring with him, to stand forward for his vindication ; but wht'n t!>oy saw his confused, alarmed looks, and observed, as they construed it, his guilty si- lence, one whispered with the other, and no one spoke for him but the settler himself. " Where are you, — ^his brothers — his sisters — his mother?" cried farmer Joshua, casting his eye down the room : " have you no nat'ral feeling for the boy ! Is there none among you who will use your tongue for him ? Shame! — Shame! You .could talk fast enough for a worthless puppy !" " Dan's got a tongue of his own, let him deny what Clinton says," said the eldest daughter. " If it is not true, let him say so." " Speak, fool — ^speak !" cried the settler, turning im- peratively to his spell-bound son. " Tell the gentleman- rogue he lies !" ' r ; . «' I darn't father— I darn't," at length articulated Dan, with difficulty, and then throwing himself down upon a seat, he hid his face. The settler groaned, and walked at once into the open i 't ■'I 4 'J ; I : alK 3i' 1 30 THB CANADIAN GIRL. air. TTie pastor arose : — ^** There is no more to be done," said he : "I leave you, Daniel, to your conscience, and to tl 3 natural punishments which wrong-doing brings. As a justice, I conclude here, I haye no means whereby to demonstrate your offence more perfectly, neither are they needed. I am afraid that even your nearest friends concur in convicting you. My office as a minister, how- ever, gives md the privilege of entreating you to let this timely discovery, work your ultimate good. I will not think you are yet familiar with thoughts of crime — I would rather suppose that you have been tempted beyond your strength, and so have let go your honesty only for a time ; — God knows ! This young man, Nicholas Clin- ton, was a stranger in your house ; he had been torn by a mysterious p-ovidence from the society to which he had been accustomed ; he was far from his relatives and friends ; and yet you would have laid upon him the im- putation of guilt he never committed, and have seen him driven from your father's house, innocent, yet a miserable and degraded man — branded with your crime !" The pastor buttoned up his coat, and pressed his hat on more firmly, then grasped his walking cane in his right hand, and replaced his cambric handkercliief in his pocket. " I wish you all good day," said he to the as- sembled family of the settler. " My Lucy will be this way I suppose to-morrow, with her brother, and may step iu among you to dinner, if they will be welcome." " It is many a month since I saw them," said the set- tler's wife. " I thought they had clean put us out of mind. Farmer Joshua will have some plump fruit for them to taste ; it is as good as any raised by Mr. Arthur, so you may tell him, pastor," She endeavoured to con- to be done," science, and oing brings, ms wbereby neither are arest friends nister, how- u to let this I will not 3f crime — I pted beyond isty only for cholas Clin- een torn by 'hich he had elatives and him the im- ve seen him a miserable ssed his hat cane in his rchief in his i to the as- nll be this r, and may ivelcome." said the set- t us out of np fruit for Mr. Arthur, ired to con- ''J THE CANADIAN OIRL. 81 ceal the pain which the disgrace of her son occasioned her, and looked as lively as usual, when she came out at the door to see the pastor depart. « I had nearly forgot," said he, " the young man within, dame, will hardly like to stay in the farm after this occurrence ; and his presence might very possibly Stand in the way of Daniel's reconciliation with his fa- ther, besides causing unforeseen unpleasantries. Now as he is destitute of a home, and as employment suitable to his attainments does not abound in these districts, I will take him to assist my grandson and myself in our little nest among the rocks, if it be agreeable to him, to you, and to the farmer.'* " As for me," said the settler's wife, " I shall be heartily glad to see him so well provided for, and we can't think old Joshua will be sorry to lose him. To speak the sober truth, Pastor Wilson, Clinton has been of very little service to him — ^he is too clever, and too bookish, for our way of life ; he would never make a far- mer while the world lasts." " You are exactly of my opinion," said the pastor ; ** and it happens fortunately that just such an one as Clinton I have for some time wished to have with me, to-» ■ " ^^' '■' " Yes," interrupted the settler's wife, without cere- mony, " very true ; and as I was saying, Pastor Wilson, Clinton is no helper to old Joshua ; and I can't say, if the truth be told, but I shall be glad to sen him away^ tf I only know he is comfortable ; for he is a gentleman, that Pll say, and very civil and obliging to me and the girls. I have lo ig seen something in Dan, pastor," she said, with a sigh, " that 1 have not liked; and I must I > 32 THE CANADIAN GIRL. 1? if it ii say, if the truth be told, I thought that al) was not right." " I hope he will see his error, and amend it," said the pastor.— ■" But here comes Nicholas Clinton." The pastor found that the latter was taking his leave of the farm, and that he was about to f;o he knew not whither. A kind smile from the benevcient old gentle- man, invited him to pause in his hasty progress from the house, and to turn back. The pastor held out his hand, Clinton took it, and bade hi.ii farewell. "No," was the rejoinder, " you must walk along with me; and, periiaps, while we improve our acquaintance, I may persuade you not to forsake the wilderness alto- gether just yet, because one unpleasant affair has troubled you in it." « Clinton appeared to hesitate; but presently, with a very ingenuous manner, accepted the proposal, and after exchanging many adieus with the females of the farm, set forward with the pastor across a romantic country, to the house which the latter occupied, occasionally stopping with him to admire some striking feature of the extensive landscape, some new beauty in the water, the earth, or the sky. In front of the settlement of farmer Joshua, they passed the glassy fishing-water, called the Trout-pool, on the bank of which Clinton himself had discovered Jane. The bark in which he was, when he first saw her, had been a little in advance of the others, and as he was raising the spear in his hand to strike one of the fish which were gathered around his boat, attracted by the lights hung out, the appearance of a female figure sitting by the edge of the water, close at hand, startled I- THE CANADIAN GIRL. 33 him. He rowed to tlie bank, and her plaintive entreaties for succour became audible to his ear. In the other boats were the settler and his sons, and these, being summoned near, unanimously agreed to take her directly to the nearest house, which was that of farmer Joshua. It was done ; and after Jane had a little recovered from the effects of her long and trying journey, she was per- mitted to remain in the farm, on condition that she would assist the females in the labours of the interior. Clinton pointed out the exact spot where he had first seen her, and described these particulars to the pastor, who was much interested in the recital, and wished that he had spoken to her on his recent visit. Their route was toward the chain of hills or mountains which Ijnunded the broad valley on the south and south- west. The sun was setting in the horizon behind the most remote of these elevations, and coloured, with the most splendid tints, the light vapours which played about tiiem, ;vhile the great plain of the sky was softening into evening's milder hues. The atmosphere was delightful ; the sod soft and green ; and the groves which opened before them, seemed " for contemplation formed.",' At length they struck into a pine-wood, where trees, most of whom age had overthrown, lay embedded in the soil, and formed a natural road a quarter of a mile in length, all superfluous branches and bushes having been cut away, and the interstices between the fallen logs filled up, by the care of the pastor's grandson. The way nar- rowed beyond this, and became dim and uneven — it had been left so by the taste of Arthur Lee, who had per- mitted the feathery evergreens to grow here without pruning, and the yellow-pines to overshadow the ascend- F ! > i^ilt., f i I! ■¥ '' i , 1 ' ■• i ■'! i ill y '!•! 1 ^ it [i 34 THK CANADIAN GIRL. ing ground in their native majesty. A spring of water, like crystal, murmured pleasantly along by the feet of the travellers; and the cooing of the American wild-dove was heard at intervals. The pastor pointed out to his young companion a pair of these birds, which were perched on the top of a tall larch tree. Clinton stepped backwards, and viewed them with admiration as thoy were defined against the western sky, which showed to advan- tage their delicate forms, their rich azure down, and the tints of green, crimson, and gold, which, with every motion they made, were seen to variegate their breasts and wings. ■ The ground rose steeper, and the sweet scents of a garden and orchard mingled upon the air. " I can smell," said Clinton, " some of the fruits of England, and could almost fancy that I were now approaching one of her happy, rural cottages." The pastor looked surprised: "England! have you been in England T' Clinton wouM have corrected himself, but the pastor added, " I now /mow you are a countryman of mine — I feel convinced of it !" " I am," said Clinton : " but — as my friends there — move rather in an — elevated circle — I had not wished — " " Say not a word more," said the pastor : " when you are disposed to give me your confidence freely, I will re- ceive it; in tlic meant'me I bid you welcome to my little domain, for we are now on the borders of it." The conversation that had taken place between the pastor and Clinton since they left the farm, had been so interesting ard various, that it had served very much to familiarise them with each other. The pastor was na- THE CANADIAN OIRL. 35 turally of an unsuspicious temper ; and the easy, fasci- nating talk of the young man, abounding with sentiment and poetry, charmed him insensibly ; although he re- gretted to perceive that he was tinctured with modern scepticism. A turn led them to the outskirts of the orchard, which was spread over the declivity of a dell, and abounded with the fruits of Europe. Clinton expressed in lively terms his admiration of the scenery, and the pastor's eye ranged around with blameless pride and pleasure. Althoutrh nijiht was just setting in, vet the briohtness of the sky, and the purity of the air, occasioned all objects to api)car distinctly defined, the shadows only investing them with a softness and solemnity peculiarly captivating to the imagination. The house stoo