“The night,” pursued Villiers, no one noticing the interruption save by an impatient ‘pish,’ “gave every indication of a speedy break up.  The ice yet floated along in disjoined masses, but with even greater rapidity than on the preceding day.  Two alternatives remained—­ either to attempt the crossing before further obstacle should be interposed, or to remain in Detroit until the river had been so far cleared of the ice as to admit of a passage in canoes.  With our leaping poles, we were not so much at a loss, but the fear entertained was principally for the safety of the sleighs.  Nothing dismayed, however, by the dangerous appearance of the river, the ladies, after due deliberation, courageously resolved on returning without delay, and we accordingly set out on our somewhat hazardous expedition.

“Notwithstanding it was, as I have already remarked, the close of winter, the cold was intense, and we were warmly clad.  I do not know if you have ever seen Cranstoun’s huge bear skin coat, (an affirmative nod was given by De Courcy,) well:  in this formidable covering had he encased himself, so that when he quitted the town, surmounted as his head was moreover with a fur cap, he presented more of the appearance of a dancing bear than of a human creature.  In this guise he attached himself to the sleigh of the D’Egvilles, which, in crossing, happened to be the farthest down the river, of the group.”

“What a domn’d loong time ye are teelling that stoopid stoory Veelliers,” at length noticed Cranstoun, wheeling round and regarding the narrator with a look of ill assumed indifference, “a coold a toold it mysel in half the time.”

“I am afraid you would not tell it so faithfully” replied Lieutenant Villiers, amid the loud laugh which was now raised at Cranstoun’s expense.  “You see it is so good a thing I like to make the most of it.”

Here Cranstoun again turned his back upon the party, and Villiers pursued,

“The main body of the expedition had got nearly half way across the river, when suddenly our ears were assailed by moanings, resembling those of some wild beast, mingled with incessant and ungovernable laughter.  Checking our course, and turning to behold the cause, we observed, about a hundred yards below us, the sledge of the D’Egvilles, from which the almost convulsive laughter proceeded, and at a considerable distance beyond this again, an object the true character of which we were some time in discovering.

“It appeared, on subsequent explanation, that Cranstoun, who had been whispering soft nothings in the ear of Julia D’Egville, (here the Captain was observed to prick his ear without materially altering his position) hem!  Cranstoun, I say, it appeared had also taken it into his head to give her a specimen of his agility, by an attempt to clear a space between two masses of ice of somewhat too great a breadth for a heavy grenadier, buttoned up to the chin in a ponderous bear skin coat.  He succeeded in gaining