inducted in the uniform of their lost companion, they
were resolved to satisfy themselves without further delay.
A basin of warm water and a sponge were procured from
the guard-room of Ensign Fortescue, who now joined them,
and with these Captain Blessington proceeded to remove
the disguise.

In the course of this lavation, it was discovered the
extraordinary flow of blood and brains had been produced
by the infliction of a deep wound on the back of the
head, by the sharp and ponderous tomahawk of an Indian.
It was the only blow that had been given; and the
circumstance of the deceased having been found lying on
his face, accounted for the quantity of gore, that,
trickling downwards, had so completely disguised every
feature. As the coat of thick encrusted matter gave way
beneath the frequent application of the moistening sponge,
the pallid hue of the countenance denoted the murdered
man to be a white. All doubt, however, was soon at an
end. The ammunition shoes, the grey trowsers, the coarse
linen, and the stiff leathern stock encircling the neck,
attested the sufferer to be a soldier of the garrison;
but it was not until the face had been completely denuded
of its unsightly covering, and every feature fully exposed,
that that soldier was at length recognised to be Harry
Donellan, the trusty and attached servant of Captain de
Haldimar.

While yet the officers stood apart, gazing at the corpse,
and forming a variety of conjectures, as vague as they