une of 'Over the hills and far away,' which
my good old grandfather used to hum as a favourite air in Marlborough's
camp, I made some doggerel words:--'This long, long year, a prisoner
drear; Ah, me! I'm tired of lingering here: I'll give a hundred guineas
gay, To be over the hills and far away.'

"'What is it?' says the hunter. 'I don't understand.'

"''Tis a girl to her lover,' I answered; but I saw by the twinkle in the
man's eye that he understood me.

"The next day, when there were no men within hearing, the trapper showed
that I was right in my conjecture, for as he passed me he hummed in a
low tone, but in perfectly good English, 'Over the hills and far away,'
the burden of my yesterday's doggerel.

"'If you are ready,' says he, 'I am ready. I know who your people are,
and the way to them. Talk to the Fawn, and she will tell you what to
do. What! You will not play with me?' Here he pulled out some cards, and
spoke in French as two soldiers came up. 'Milor est trop grand seigneur?
Bonjour, my lord!'

"And the man made me a mock bow, and walked away, shrugging up his
shoulders, to offer to play and drink elsewhere.

"I knew now that the Biche was to be the agent in the affair, and that
my offer to Museau was accepted. The poor Fawn performed her part very
faithfully and dexterously. I had not need of a word more with Museau;
the matter was understood between us. The Fawn had long been allowed
free communication with me. She had tended me during my wound and in my
illnesses, helped to do the work of my little chamber, my cooking, and
so forth. She was free to go out of the fort, as I have said, and to
the river and the fields whence the corn and garden-stuff of the little
garrison were brought in.

"Having gambled away most of the money which he received for his
peltries, the trapper now got together his store of flints, powder, and
blankets, and took his leave. And, three days after his departure, the
Fawn gave me the signal that the time was come for me to make my little
trial for freedom.

"When first wounded, I had been taken by my kind Florac and placed on
his bed in the officers' room. When the fort was emptied of all officers
except the old lieutenant left in command, I had been allowed to remain
in my quarters, sometimes being left pretty free, sometimes being locked
up and fed on prisoners' rations, sometimes invited to share his mess by
my tipsy gaoler.

"This officers' house, or room, was of lo