with it the coolness and fragrance of the
forest. The wind was far from being fresh, though there was enough of
it to drive the _Scud_ merrily ahead, and, perhaps, to keep attention
alive, in the uncertainty that more or less accompanies darkness.
Jasper, however, appeared to regard it with complacency, as was apparent
by what he said in a short dialogue that now occurred between him and
Mabel.

"At this rate, Eau-douce,"--for so Mabel had already learned to style
the young sailor,--said our heroine, "we cannot be long in reaching our
place of destination."

"Has your father then told you what that is, Mabel?"

"He has told me nothing; my father is too much of a soldier, and too
little used to have a family around him, to talk of such matters. Is it
forbidden to say whither we are bound?"

"It cannot be far, while we steer in this direction, for sixty or
seventy miles will take us into the St. Lawrence, which the French might
make too hot for us; and no voyage on this lake can be very long."

"So says my uncle Cap; but to me, Jasper, Ontario and the ocean appear
very much the same."

"You have then been on the ocean; while I, who pretend to be a sailor,
have never yet seen salt water. You must have a great contempt for such
a mariner as myself, in your heart, Mabel Dunham?"

"Then I have no such thing in my heart, Jasper Eau-douce. What right
have I, a girl without experience or knowledge, to despise any, much
less one like you, who are trusted by the Major, and who command a
vessel like this? I have never been on the ocean, though I have seen it;
and, I repeat, I see no difference between this lake and the Atlantic."

"Nor in them that sail on both? I was afraid, Mabel, your uncle had said
so much against us fresh-water sailors, that you had begun to look upon
us as little better than pretenders?"

"Give yourself no uneasiness on that account, Jasper; for I know my
uncle, and he says as many things against those who live ashore, when
at York, as he now says against those who sail on fresh water. No, no,
neither my father nor myself think anything of such opinions. My uncle
Cap, if he spoke openly, would be found to have even a worse notion of a
soldier than of a sailor who never saw the sea."

"But your father, Mabel, has a better opinion of soldiers than of any
one else? he wishes you to be the wife of a soldier?"

"Jasper Eau-douce!--I the wife of a soldier! My father wishes it! Why
should he wish any su