Mabel now began to parley more resolutely with Muir, for her uncle seemed disposed to quiet his conscience by holding his tongue, and she plainly intimated that it was not her intention to yield the building.

“You forget the capitulation, Mistress Mabel,” said Muir; “the honor of one of his Majesty’s servants is concerned, and the honor of his Majesty through his servant.  You will remember the finesse and delicacy that belong to military honor?”

“I know enough, Mr. Muir, to understand that you have no command in this expedition, and therefore can have no right to yield the blockhouse; and I remember, moreover, to have heard my dear father say that a prisoner loses all his authority for the time being.”

“Rank sophistry, pretty Mabel, and treason to the king, as well as dishonoring his commission and discrediting his name.  You’ll no’ be persevering in your intentions, when your better judgment has had leisure to reflect and to make conclusions on matters and circumstances.”

“Ay,” put in Cap, “this is a circumstance, and be d——­d to it!”

“No mind what’e uncle say,” ejaculated June, who was occupied in a far corner of the room.  “Blockhouse good — got no scalp.”

“I shall remain as I am, Mr. Muir, until I get some tidings of my father.  He will return in the course of the next ten days.”

“Ah, Mabel, this artifice will no’ deceive the enemy, who, by means that would be unintelligible, did not our suspicions rest on an unhappy young man with too much plausibility, are familiar with all our doings and plans, and well know that the sun will not set before the worthy Sergeant and his companions will be in their power.  Aweel!  Submission to Providence is truly a Christian virtue!”

“Mr. Muir, you appear to be deceived in the strength of this work, and to fancy it weaker than it is.  Do you desire to see what I can do in the way of defence, if so disposed?”

“I dinna mind if I do,” answered the Quartermaster, who always grew Scotch as he grew interested.

“What do you think of that, then?  Look at the loop of the upper story!”

As soon as Mabel had spoken, all eyes were turned upward, and beheld the muzzle of a rifle cautiously thrust through a hole, June having resorted again to a ruse which had already proved so successful.  The result did not disappoint expectation.  No sooner did the Indians catch a sight of the fatal weapon than they leaped aside, and in less than a minute every man among them had sought a cover.  The French officer kept his eye on the barrel of the piece in order to ascertain that it was not pointed in his particular direction, and he coolly took a pinch of snuff.  As neither Muir nor Cap had anything to apprehend from the quarter in which the others were menaced, they kept their ground.

“Be wise, my pretty Mabel, be wise!” exclaimed the former; “and no’ be provoking useless contention.  In the name of all the kings of Albin, who have ye closeted with you in that wooden tower that seemeth so bloody-minded?  There is necromancy about this matter, and all our characters may be involved in the explanation.”