fixed his dark eye upon him, as if he would have read
his inmost soul, "you say that you have been a soldier,
and fought with our army on the Wabash. Why did you leave
the service?"

"Because," drawled the ex-militaire, with a leering
expression of his eye, "my captin was a bad judge of good
men when he had 'em, and reckoned I was shammin' when I
fell down rale sick, and was left behind in a charge made
on the Injins at Tippecanoe. I couldn't stand the abuse
he gave me for this, and so I left him."

"Cool, indeed," sneered Mr. Heywood; "now then, Ephraim
Giles, hear my opinion. Your captain thought you were a
coward, for he judged you from your conduct. I, too,
judge you from your conduct, and have no hesitation in
pronouncing you to be a rogue or a fool."

"Well, I want to know!" was the only rejoinder of the
man, as he went on unconcernedly with his whittling.

"Le Noir," said his master to the Canadian, who, imitating
his example, had taken down a long duck gun from the same
side of the hut, "take your dog with you and reconnoitre
in the neighborhood. You speak Indian, and if any of
these people are to be seen, ascertain who they are and
why--"

Here he was interrupted by the gradually approaching
sounds of rattling deer hoofs, so well known as composing