his prospects, and
disappointed his well-founded hopes of still higher advancement in his
profession. His father, an inflexible Puritan, fled to New-England from
the persecution of a church which he abhorred, and, with the malevolence
of narrow-minded bigotry, the heresy of the parent was punished, by
dismissing the son from that honorable station, which his valour had
attained. Deeply wounded in spirit, Arthur Stanhope retired from the
service of his country, but he carried with him, to a distant land, the
affection and esteem of his brother officers,--a solace, which
misfortune can never wrest from a noble and virtuous mind.

On the present occasion, Stanhope made his arrangements with coolness
and precision, and received from everyone, the most prompt and zealous
assistance. The alarm, which the appearance of the French at first
excited, had gradually subsided; but still there were so many volunteers
in the cause, that it was difficult to prevent the shallops from being
overloaded. Constables with their batons, and soldiers, with fixed
bayonets, guarded the place of embarkation, till, at a given signal, the
boats were loosed from their moorings, and glided gently over the waves.
A loud shout burst from the spectators, which was succeeded by a
stillness so profound, that, for several moments, the measured dash of
the oars was distinctly heard on shore. An equal silence prevailed on
board the shallops, which were rowed in exact unison, while the men, who
occupied them, sat erect and motionless as automatons, their fire-arms
glancing in the bright sun-shine, and their eyes occasionally turning
with defiance towards the supposed enemy.

Arthur Stanhope stood on the stern of the principal vessel, and beside
him Mr. Gibbons, a young man, who watched the progress of the
pleasure-boat with eager solicitude,--for it contained his mother and
sisters. It had then nearly reached the island; their pursuers, probably
in despair of overtaking them, had relaxed their efforts, and rested on
their oars, apparently undecided what course to follow.

"They are observing us," said Stanhope's companion, pointing to the
French, "and I doubt they will return to the protection of their ship,
and scarce leave us the liberty of disputing the way with them."

"They will consult their prudence, in doing so," replied Stanhope, "if
their intentions are indeed hostile, as we have supposed."

"If!" returned the other, "why else should they give c