o be seen. With a beating heart,
Mabel examined every opening through the trees, and ascended even to the
upper story or garret of the blockhouse, where she got a full view of
the whole island, so far as its covers would allow, but with no better
success. She had expected to see the body of her uncle lying on the
grass like those of the soldiers, but it was nowhere visible. Turning
towards the spot where the boat lay, Mabel saw that it was still
fastened to the shore; and then she supposed that by some accident Muir
had been prevented from effecting his retreat in that quarter. In short,
the island lay in the quiet of the grave, the bodies of the soldiers
rendering the scone as fearful as it was extraordinary.

"For God's holy sake, Mistress Mabel," called out the woman from below;
for, though her fear had become too ungovernable to allow her to keep
silence, our heroine's superior refinement, more than the regimental
station of her father, still controlled her mode of address,--"Mistress
Mabel, tell me if any of our friends are living! I think I hear
groans that grow fainter and fainter, and fear that they will all be
tomahawked!"

Mabel now remembered that one of the soldiers was this woman's husband,
and she trembled at what might be the immediate effect of her sorrow,
should his death become suddenly known to her. The groans, too, gave a
little hope, though she feared they might come from her uncle, who lay
out of view.

"We are in His holy keeping, Jennie," she answered. "We must trust in
Providence, while we neglect none of its benevolent means of protecting
ourselves. Be careful with the door; on no account open it without my
directions."

"Oh, tell me, Mistress Mabel, if you can anywhere see Sandy! If I could
only let him know that I'm in safety, the guid man would be easier in
his mind, whether free or a prisoner."

Sandy was Jennie's husband, and he lay dead in plain view of the loop
from which our heroine was then looking.

"You no' tell me if you're seeing of Sandy," the woman repeated from
below, impatient at Mabel's silence.

"There are some of our people gathered about the body of M'Nab," was the
answer; for it seemed sacrilegious in her eyes to tell a direct untruth
under the awful circumstances in which she was placed.

"Is Sandy amang them?" demanded the woman, in a voice that sounded
appalling by its hoarseness and energy.

"He may be certainly; for I see one, two, three, four, and all in t