It was too dark to betray the color that deepened on the weather-burnt features of the guide; for he felt the consciousness of having lingered in the fort that night, listening to the sweet tones of Mabel’s voice as she sang ballads to her father, and gazing at the countenance which, to him, was radiant with charms.  Probity in thought and deed being the distinguishing quality of this extraordinary man’s mind, while he felt that a sort of disgrace ought to attach to his idleness on the occasion mentioned, the last thought that could occur would be to attempt to palliate or deny his negligence.

“I confess it, Jasper, I confess it,” said he humbly.  “Had I been out that night, —­ and I now recollect no sufficient reason why I was not, —­ it might, indeed, have turned out as you say.”

“It was the evening you passed with us, Pathfinder,” Mabel innocently remarked; “surely one who lives so much of his time in the forest, in front of the enemy, may be excused for giving a few hours of his time to an old friend and his daughter.”

“Nay, nay, I’ve done little else but idle since we reached the garrison,” returned the other, sighing; “and it is well that the lad should tell me of it:  the idler needs a rebuke — yes, he needs a rebuke.”

“Rebuke, Pathfinder!  I never dreamt of saying anything disagreeable, and least of all would I think of rebuking you, because a solitary spy and an Indian or two have escaped us.  Now I know where you were, I think your absence the most natural thing in the world.”

“I think nothing of what you said, Jasper, since it was deserved.  We are all human, and all do wrong.”

“This is unkind, Pathfinder.”

“Give me your hand, lad, give me your hand.  It wasn’t you that gave the lesson; it was conscience.”

“Well, well,” interrupted Cap; “now this latter matter is settled to the satisfaction of all parties, perhaps you will tell us how it happened to be known that there were spies near us so lately.  This looks amazingly like a circumstance.”

As the mariner uttered the last sentence, he pressed a foot slily on that of the Sergeant, and nudged the guide with his elbow, winking at the same time, though this sign was lost in the obscurity.

“It is known, because their trail was found next day by the Serpent, and it was that of a military boot and a moccasin.  One of our hunters, moreover, saw the canoe crossing towards Frontenac next morning.”

“Did the trail lead near the garrison, Jasper?” Pathfinder asked in a manner so meek and subdued that it resembled the tone of a rebuked schoolboy.  “Did the trail lead near the garrison, lad?”

“We thought not; though, of course, it did not cross the river.  It was followed down to the eastern point, at the river’s mouth, where what was doing in port, might be seen; but it did not cross, as we could discover.”

“And why didn’t you get under weigh, Master Jasper,” Cap demanded, “and give chase?  On Tuesday morning it blew a good breeze; one in which this cutter might have run nine knots.”