were out hunting, unconscious of the proximity of any foe.

Stark was on his feet in a second. This was just the chance for the
Rangers. Seizing their arms and hastily conferring together, they
laid their plans, and then divided themselves into three companies
of three, planning to fetch a circuit, keep under cover, and thus
surround the little company, who would believe themselves entirely
overmatched, and some of whom would surrender at discretion, if
they did not all do so.

Stark, Fritz, and Charles remained together, taking a certain path
as agreed upon. They crept like Indians through the wood. Hardly
the breaking of a branch betrayed their movements. In Charles's
eyes the slumbering fire leaped into life. He always lived in the
hope of again meeting his foe face to face. He knew that he was
probably within the walls of Ticonderoga. Any day might bring them
face to face once more.

Softly and cautiously they crept through the brushwood. Stark had
made a sign of extra caution, for some nameless instinct seemed to
have told him that they were near the quarry now. He paused a
moment, held up his hand as if in warning; and at that instant
there suddenly arose from the heart of the wood the unwonted sound
of a sweet, fresh girl's voice raised in a little French song!

The men looked at one another in amaze. Were their ears deceiving
them? But no; the trilling notes came nearer. Involuntarily they
pressed forward a few paces, and then came to a dead stop. What was
it they saw?