nch are a head-over-heels nation, and
usually come forward in a random way; so we may look for them, if they
come at all, on the other side of the island."

The discourse now became exceedingly desultory, touching principally,
however, on the probabilities of an invasion, and the best means of
meeting it.

To most of this Mabel paid but little attention; though she felt some
surprise that Lieutenant Muir, an officer whose character for courage
stood well, should openly recommend an abandonment of what appeared to
her to be doubly a duty, her father's character being connected with the
defence of the island. Her mind, however, was so much occupied with her
guest, that, seizing the first favorable moment, she left the table, and
was soon in her own hut again. Carefully fastening the door, and seeing
that the simple curtain was drawn before the single little window, Mabel
next led the Dew-of-June, or June, as she was familiarly termed by
those who spoke to her in English, into the outer room, making signs of
affection and confidence.

"I am glad to see you, June," said Mabel, with one of her sweetest
smiles, and in her own winning voice,--"very glad to see you. What has
brought you hither, and how did you discover the island?"

"Speak slow," said June, returning smile for smile, and pressing the
little hand she held with one of her own that was scarcely larger,
though it had been hardened by labor; "more slow--too quick."

Mabel repeated her questions, endeavoring to repress the impetuosity
of her feelings; and she succeeded in speaking so distinctly as to be
understood.

"June, friend," returned the Indian woman.

"I believe you, June--from my soul I believe you; what has this to do
with your visit?"

"Friend come to see friend," answered June, again smiling openly in the
other's face.

"There is some other reason, June, else would you never run this risk,
and alone. You are alone, June?"

"June wid you, no one else. June come alone, paddle canoe."

"I hope so, I think so--nay, I know so. You would not be treacherous
with me, June?"

"What treacherous?"

"You would not betray me, would not give me to the French, to the
Iroquois, to Arrowhead?"

June shook her head earnestly.

"You would not sell my scalp?"

Here June passed her arm fondly around the slender waist of Mabel and
pressed her to her heart with a tenderness and affection that brought
tears into the eyes of our heroine. It was done in the f