dow. "I could even prefer to see the enemy than to look any
longer on this fearful array of the dead."

"Hush! Here they come. June thought hear a cry like a warrior's shout
when he take a scalp."

"What mean you? There is no more butchery!--there can be no more."

"Saltwater!" exclaimed June, laughing, as she stood peeping through a
loophole.

"My dear uncle! Thank God! he then lives! Oh, June, June, _you_ will not
let them harm _him?_"

"June, poor squaw. What warrior t'ink of what she say? Arrowhead bring
him here."

By this time Mabel was at a loop; and, sure enough, there were Cap and
the Quartermaster in the hands of the Indians, eight or ten of whom
were conducting them to the foot of the block, for, by this capture, the
enemy now well knew that there could be no man in the building. Mabel
scarcely breathed until the whole party stood ranged directly before
the door, when she was rejoiced to see that the French officer was among
them. A low conversation followed, in which both the white leader and
Arrowhead spoke earnestly to their captives, when the Quartermaster
called out to her in a voice loud enough to be heard.

"Pretty Mabel! Pretty Mabel!" said he; "Look out of one of the
loopholes, and pity our condition. We are threatened with instant death
unless you open the door to the conquerors. Relent, then or we'll no' be
wearing our scalps half an hour from this blessed moment."

Mabel thought there were mockery and levity in this appeal, and its
manner rather fortified than weakened her resolution to hold the place
as long as possible.

"Speak to me, uncle," said she, with her mouth at a loop, "and tell me
what I ought to do."

"Thank God! thank God!" ejaculated Cap; "the sound of your sweet voice,
Magnet, lightens my heart of a heavy load, for I feared you had shared
the fate of poor Jennie. My breast has felt the last four-and-twenty
hours as if a ton of kentledge had been stowed in it. You ask me what
you ought to do, child, and I do not know how to advise you, though you
are my own sister's daughter! The most I can say just now, my poor girl,
is most heartily to curse the day you or I ever saw this bit of fresh
water."

"But, uncle, is your life in danger--do _you_ think I ought to open the
door?"

"A round turn and two half-hitches make a fast belay; and I would
counsel no one who is out of the hands of these devils to unbar or
unfasten anything in order to fall into them. As to the Quarter