“I must say, Sergeant Dunham,” Cap at length commenced in his peculiar manner, “that there has been mismanagement somewhere in this unhappy expedition; and, the present being an occasion when truth ought to be spoken, and nothing but the truth, I feel it my duty to be say as much in plain language.  In short, Sergeant, on this point there cannot well be two opinions; for, seaman as I am, and no soldier, I can see several errors myself, that it needs no great education to detect.”

“What would you have, brother Cap?” returned the other in a feeble voice; “what is done is done; and it is now too late to remedy it.”

“Very true, brother Dunham, but not to repent of it; the Good Book tells us it is never too late to repent; and I’ve always heard that this is the precious moment.  If you’ve anything on your mind, Sergeant, hoist it out freely; for, you know, you trust it to a friend.  You were my own sister’s husband, and poor little Magnet is my own sister’s daughter; and, living or dead, I shall always look upon you as a brother.  It’s a thousand pities that you didn’t lie off and on with the boats, and send a canoe ahead to reconnoitre; in which case your command would have been saved, and this disaster would not have befallen us all.  Well, Sergeant, we are all mortal; that is some consolation, I make no doubt; and if you go before a little, why, we must follow.  Yes, that must give you consolation.”

“I know all this, brother Cap; and hope I’m prepared to meet a soldier’s fate —­ there is poor Mabel —­ "

“Ay, ay, that’s a heavy drag, I know; but you wouldn’t take her with you if you could, Sergeant; and so the better way is to make as light of the separation as you can.  Mabel is a good girl, and so was her mother before her; she was my sister, and it shall be my care to see that her daughter gets a good husband, if our lives and scalps are spared; for I suppose no one would care about entering into a family that has no scalps.”

“Brother, my child is betrothed; she will become the wife of Pathfinder.”

“Well, brother Dunham, every man has his opinions and his manner of viewing things; and, to my notion, this match will be anything but agreeable to Mabel.  I have no objection to the age of the man; I’m not one of them that thinks it necessary to be a boy to make a girl happy, but, on the whole, I prefer a man of about fifty for a husband; still there ought not to be any circumstance between the parties to make them unhappy.  Circumstances play the devil with matrimony, and I set it down as one that Pathfinder don’t know as much as my niece.  You’ve seen but little of the girl, Sergeant, and have not got the run of her knowledge; but let her pay it out freely, as she will do when she gets to be thoroughly acquainted, and you’ll fall in with but few schoolmasters that can keep their luffs in her company.”

“She’s a good child —­ a dear, good child,” muttered the Sergeant, his eyes filling with tears; “and it is my misfortune that I have seen so little of her.”