This sylvan lodge was cheered and refined by the presence of his wife and children, whose daily household occupations were assisted by numerous servants chosen from the warm-hearted people who had left their own Green Isle to find a home in this wilderness.

Amidst such scenes and the duties of her station we may suppose that Mrs. Talbot, a lady who could not but have relinquished many comforts in her native land for this rude life of the forest, found sufficient resource to quell the regrets of many fond memories of the home and friends she had left behind, and to reconcile her to the fortunes of her husband, to whom, as we shall see, she was devoted with an ardor that no hardship or danger could abate.

Being the dispenser of her husband’s hospitality,—­the bread-giver, in the old Saxon phrase,—­the frequent companion of his pastime, and the bountiful friend, not only of the families whose cottages threw up their smoke within view of her dwelling, but of all who came and went on the occasions of business or pleasure in the common intercourse of the frontier, we may conceive the sentiment of respect and attachment she inspired in this insulated district, and the service she was thus enabled to command.

This is but a fancy picture, it is true, of the home of Talbot, which, for want of authentic elements of description, I am forced to draw.  It is suggested by the few scattered glimpses we get in the records of his position and circumstances, and may, I think, be received at least as near the truth in its general aspect and characteristic features.

He was undoubtedly a bold, enterprising man,—­impetuous, passionate, and harsh, as the incidents of his story show.  He was, most probably, a soldier trained to the profession, and may have served abroad, as nearly all gentlemen of that period were accustomed to do.  That he was an ardent and uncompromising partisan of the Proprietary in the dissensions of the Province seems to be evident.  I suppose him, also, to have been warm-hearted, proud in spirit, and hasty in temper,—­a man to be loved or hated by friend or foe with equal intensity.  It is material to add to this sketch of him, that he was a Roman Catholic,—­as we have record proof that all the Deputy Governors named in the recent commission were, I believe, without exception,—­and that he was doubtless imbued with the dislike and indignation which naturally fired the gentlemen of his faith against those who were supposed to be plotting the overthrow of the Proprietary government, by exciting religious prejudice against the Baltimore family.

[To be continued.]

HUNTING A PASS.

A SKETCH OF TROPICAL ADVENTURE.

[Continued.]

CHAPTER II.