for a few seconds. "Ay," said he,
"many a time have I heard the old minister at Pine Point say that."

"Pine Point!" exclaimed March in surprise.

"Perhaps they're true, after all," continued Macgregor, not noticing the
interruption. "Oh! Mary, Mary, surely I did the uttermost when I
forsook ye. Let me see the words, boy; are they there?"

A strange suspicion flashed suddenly on the mind of March as he listened
to these words, and he trembled violently as he handed him the book.

"What--what's this? Where got ye my wife's Bible? You must," (he added
between his teeth, in a sudden burst of anger) "have murdered my boy."

"Father!" exclaimed March, seizing Macgregor's hand.

The dying man started up with a countenance of ashy paleness, and,
leaning on one elbow, gazed earnestly into the youth's face--"March! can
it be my boy?" and fell back with a heavy groan. The bandages had been
loosened by the exertion, and blood was pouring freely from his wound.
The case admitted of no delay. March hurriedly attempted to stop the
flow of the vital stream, assisted by Mary, who had been sitting at the
foot of the couch bathed in tears during the foregoing scene.

Just then Dick returned, and, seeing how matters stood, quickly
staunched the wound; but his aid came too late. Macgregor, or rather
Obadiah Marston, opened his eyes but once after that, and seemed as if
he wished to speak. March bent down quickly and put his ear close to
his mouth; there was a faint whisper, "God bless you, March, my son,"
and then all was still!

March gazed long and breathlessly at the dead countenance; then, looking
slowly up in Dick's face, he said, pointing to the dead man, "My
father!" and fell insensible on the couch beside him.

We will pass over the first few days that succeeded the event just
narrated, during which poor March Marston went about the wild region in
the vicinity of the cave like one in a dream. It may be imagined with
what surprise the trappers learned from him the near relationship that
existed between himself and the fur trader. They felt and expressed the
deepest sympathy with their young comrade, and offered to accompany him
when he laid his father in the grave. But Dick had firmly refused to
allow the youth to bring the trappers near his abode, so they forbore to
press him, and the last sad rites were performed by himself and Dick
alone. The grave was made in the centre of a little green vale which
lay lik