The day following that of the capture of the American detachment was just beginning to dawn, as two individuals appeared on the skirt of the rude clearing in which the hut of the man we have just described, had been erected.  The persons of both these, wrapt in blue military cloaks, reposed upon the dark foliage in a manner to enable them to observe, without being themselves seen, all that passed within the clearing, from the log hut to the sand of the lake shore.  There had been an indication by one of these of a design to step forth from his concealment into the clearing, and advance boldly toward the house; but this had been checked by his companion, who, laying his hand upon his shoulder, arrested the movement, pointing out at the same time, the leisurely but cautious advance of two men from the hut towards the shore, on which lay a canoe half drawn up on the sands.  Each, on issuing from the hut, had deposited a rifle against the rude exterior of the dwelling, the better to enable them to convey a light mast, sail, paddles, several blankets, and a common corn-bag, apparently containing provisions, with which they proceeded towards the canoe.

“So,” said the taller of the first party, in a whisper, “there is that d——­d rascal Desborough setting out on one of his contraband excursions.  He seems to have a long absence in view, if we may judge from the contents of his provision sack.”

“Hist,” rejoined his companion, “there is more here than meets the eye.  In the first instance, remove the pistols from the case, and be prepared to afford me assistance, should I require it.”

“What the devil are you going to do, and what do you mean?” asked the first speaker, following however the hint that had been given him, and removing a pair of duelling pistols from their mahogany case.

While he was in the act of doing this, his companion had, without replying, quitted his side, and cautiously and noiselessly advanced to the hut.  In the course of a few minutes he again appeared at the point whence he had started, grasping in either hand the rifles so recently deposited there.

“Well, what is the meaning of this feat? you do not intend, Yankee fashion, to exchange a long shot with poor Molineux, I hope—­if so, my dear fellow, I cry off, for upon my honor, I cannot engage in any thing that is not strictly orthodox.”

He, thus addressed, could scarcely restrain a laugh at the serious tone in which his companion expressed himself, as if he verily believed he had that object in view.

“Would you not like,” he asked, “to be in some degree instrumental in banishing wholly from the country, a man whom we all suspect of treason, but are compelled to tolerate from inability to prove his guilt—­this same notorious Desborough?”

“Now that you no longer speak and act in parables, I can understand you.  Of course I should, but what proof of his treason are we to discover in the mere fact of his departing on what he may choose to call a hunting excursion? even admitting he is speculating in the contraband, that cannot banish him; and if it could, we could never descend to become informers.”