h wind
sprang up, and a sharp frost sent every leaf, pinched off, flying away,
and the next morning a few only hanging to dead boughs gave a somewhat
warm tinge to the otherwise dark green and dark brown appearance of the
lake shore.

"Excellent! it would give my dear people at home some idea of the
beauties we have out here," exclaimed D'Arcy, who happened to look in
the day Sophy had finished her sketch. "I should be so thankful if you
could make a copy for me; still more so if I might aspire to possess the
original."

"What could have made Sophy blush so just now?" said Charley to Agnes,
after D'Arcy had taken his leave. "There the dear thing stands looking
at the lake: what a wonder to see her doing nothing."

D'Arcy leaped gaily into his boat, hoisted the main-sail, a large one
for her size, cast off the painter, and hauling aft the main-sheet as
she paid-off with the fore-sail, waved an adieu to his friends on shore.
The lake sparkled brightly as miniature waves curled over its surface;
faster and faster the boat flew amid them, seeming to delight in her
freedom. The breeze freshened; a black cloud came up along the course
of the river from Lake Huron; it rushed across the sky, followed by
others, casting a shadow over the lake. A shriek from Sophy made Philip
rush out from his workshop, saw in hand, followed by Harry. The white
sail of D'Arcy's boat had disappeared, and a dark mass was alone visible
on the spot where she had been.

"He is a good swimmer, and will have got upon the bottom," cried Philip;
but his heart misgave him, for the cold wind had made D'Arcy put on his
thick coat and heavy boots; Harry ran towards their large boat. The
sails and oars were on shore. "No, no,--the canoe!" cried Philip. An
Indian hunter, a friend of D'Arcy's, had left his canoe on the beach in
the morning. The paddles were in her. To launch her and step gingerly
in was the work of an instant; and fast as Philip and Harry could ply
their paddles, the light canoe flew across the lake.

The rest of the family were soon on the shore; Mr Ashton, who saw the
danger to which his sons were exposed in their eagerness to save their
friend, watching their progress with the greatest anxiety. He
unfortunately did not understand the management of a boat as did his
sons; nor did Peter, or he would have gone after them. The canoe tossed
up and down, apparently scarcely able to buffet with even the small
waves, to the lashing