during his absence.  Another young Scot and myself, together with two or three non-descripts, formed the winter establishment.  Having just quitted the scenes of civilized life, I found my present solitude sufficiently irksome; the natural buoyancy of youthful spirits, however, with the amusements we got up amongst us, conspired to banish all gloomy thoughts from my mind in a very short time.  We—­my friend Mac and myself—­soon became very intimate with two or three French families who resided in the village, who were, though in an humble station, kind and courteous, and who, moreover, danced, fiddled and played whist.

[1] This gentleman’s name was Cockburn;—­he met his end a few years afterwards in a very melancholy manner, while on his way to Montreal (having retired from the service).  He rolled over the canoe on a dark night, and disappeared for ever!

There was another family of a different status from the others, that of Capt.  Ducharme, the king’s interpreter, a kind-hearted, hospitable man, who frequently invited us to his house, where we enjoyed the charms of polished society and good cheer.  The captain’s residence was in the Iroquois division of the village; this circumstance led us to form another acquaintance that for some time afforded us some amusement, en passant.  We discovered that a very ugly old widow, who resided in that quarter, had two very pretty young daughters, to whom we discoursed in Gaelic; they answered in Iroquois; and in a short time the best understanding imaginable was established between us, (Mac and myself, be it always understood.) No harm came of it, though; I vow there did not; the priests, it seems, thought otherwise.  Our acquaintance with the girls having come to their knowledge, we were one day honoured with a visit from the Iroquois padre; the severe gravity of whose countenance convinced us at a glance of the nature of his mission.  I must do him the justice to say, however, that his address to us was mild and admonitory, rather than severe or reproachful.  I resolved from that moment to speak no more Gaelic to the Iroquois maidens; Mac continued his visits.

We always amused ourselves in the evenings with our French confreres, (whom I have mentioned as “nondescripts,” from the circumstance of their being under no regular engagement with the Company,) playing cards or fiddling and dancing.  We were on one occasion engaged in the latter amusement en pleine midi—­our Deputy Bourgeois being one of the party, and all of us in the highest possible glee, when lo! in the midst of our hilarity, the hall door flew open and the great man stood sternly before us.  The hand-writing on the wall could scarcely have produced a more startling effect on the convivial party of old, than did this unexpected apparition upon us.  We listened to the reprimand which followed in all due humility, none more crest-fallen than our worthy Deputy.