monstrance, and persuasion, were equally ineffectual to change their
determination. Their enlistment was voluntary, and they had already
effected the object for which they engaged; they, therefore, considered
themselves released from further orders, and at liberty to return to
their homes; and, with a stern, yet virtuous resolution, they declared,
their consciences could not be bribed by all the gold of France.

Stanhope, vexed at a result which he had so little anticipated, and
conscious that he had, in reality, no control over them, for his command
was merely nominal, was glad to secure the services of the few who still
adhered to him, and to compromise with the remainder. With some
difficulty, he prevailed on them to continue at the fort till he
returned from Penobscot, consenting to abandon his vessel to their
use,--for they were not willing to mingle with the garrison,--and embark
himself, with as many of his own men as chose to accompany him, and a
few Scots, in a smaller one of La Tour's, which could be immediately
prepared for the voyage, and was better adapted to their reduced
numbers.

This alteration occasioned some delay; and La Tour's impatience was,
more than once, vented in imprecations on the individuals, whose sense
of duty interfered with his selfish projects. An adverse wind detained
them a day or two, after every arrangement was completed; but so great
was La Tour's eagerness to depart, that he embarked at sun-set, on the
first appearance of a favourable change, hoping to weigh anchor by the
dawn of day, or sooner, should the night prove clear, and the wind shift
to the desired point. Stanhope remonstrated against this haste, as his
nautical experience led him to apprehend evil from it; the clouds which
for some time had boded an approaching storm, indeed, seemed passing
away; but dark masses still lingered in the horizon, and the turbid
waters of the bay assumed that calm and sullen aspect, which so often
precedes a tempest. But La Tour was obstinate in his resolution; and, as
it was important that the vessels should sail in company, Stanhope
yielded to his solicitations, and left the fort with that dreariness of
heart, which ever attends the moment of parting from those we love.

Mad. de la Tour, soon after her husband's departure, passed the gate, on
a visit of charity to a neighboring cottage. The long summer twilight
was deepening on the hills, as she returned; and, with surprise, she
observed