it ain't a French frigate!"

This was the exclamation that roused Claude. He at once returned to
himself, and turning to Zac, he asked him what he meant. Zac said
nothing, but, handing him the spy-glass, pointed away to the west,
where a sail was visible on the horizon. That sail was an object of
curious interest to others on board; to the lieutenant and seamen of
the wrecked vessel, who were staring at her from the bows; and to
Cazeneau, who was with them, staring with equal interest. Claude took
the glass, and raising it to his eye, examined the strange sail long
and carefully, but without being able to distinguish anything in
particular about her.

"What makes you think that she is a French frigate?" he asked, as he
handed the glass back to Zac. "I cannot make out that she is French
any more than English."

"O, I can tell easy enough," said Zac, "by the cut of her jib. Then,
too, I judge by her course. That there craft is comin' down out of
the Bay of Fundy, which the Moosoos in their lingo call Fonde de la
Baie. She's been up at some of the French settlements. Now, she may
be goin' to France--or mayhap she's goin' to Louisbourg--an' if so be
as she's goin' to Louisbourg, why, I shouldn't wonder if it mightn't
be a good idee for our French friends here to go aboard of her and
finish their voyage in a vessel of their own. One reason why I'd
rather have it so is, that I don't altogether like the manoeuvrin's
of that French count over thar. He's too sly; an' he's up to
somethin', an' I don't fancy havin' to keep up a eternal watch agin
him. If I was well red of him I could breathe freer; but at the same
time I don't altogether relish the idee of puttin' myself into the
clutches of that thar frigate. It's easy enough for me to keep out of
her way; but if I was once to get under her guns, thar'd be an end of
the Parson. This here count ain't to be trusted, no how; an' if he
once got into communication with that there frigate, he'd be my
master. An' so I'm in a reg'lar quan-dary, an' no mistake. Darned if
I know what in the blamenation to do about it."

Zac stopped short, and looked with an air of mild inquiry at Claude.
Claude, on his part, was rather startled by Zac's estimate of the
character of Cazeneau, for it chimed in so perfectly with Mimi's
opinion that it affected him in spite of himself. But it was only for
a moment, and then his own self-confidence gained the mastery.

CHAPTER VII.

CAUGHT IN A TR