the bellow as we dashed round the circle-no wonder the imps believed Satan was after them in bodily form."

"Aweel, maisters, ye lookit lak the de'il. Ye fuffed fire lak auld Clootie hissel," said McGregor, as he took one of the corpse-white masks in his hand, a mere shell hewed from a mammoth turnip, fashioned with cavernous eye-holes, a grinning mouth, a high, hooked nose secured by a peg, and with four stout cords as a convenience in fastening the contrivance to the head of the wearer, who appeared like a moving corpse.

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Hecht, sirs! but it's a fearsome face. It do lookit lak a ghaist a-glowrin' an' a-girnin'. Nigher ane cooms i' the candle-licht the mair awfu' it lookit! The guid-father did weel; it's the luck they tak 'ee for a bogle, else the dwellin' wad noo 'a' been a-reekin' an' the murderers red-wat-shod 8 i' the morn!" croaked the old butler dismally, in the broad Scottish dialect he fell into whenever unduly excited.

"Bear a hand, McGregor, no time to be crooning!" called Captain Lawrence, rather impatiently. "We must take this poor, abused body above stairs and compose his limbs decently."

The morning broke, clear and cold, the sunlight streamed through the narrow chink where, all the dark hours preceding the dawn, the faithful Canarsee had kept his vigil. Not a tufted head had appeared, not an unwonted sound had mingled with

the clash of the falling sleet and the roar of the wind, sounds that died away and were succeeded by a hush as of death ere the day dawned.

The fire was quenched upon the icy earth, leaving naught beside a mass of grey ashes and blackened, charred embers upon which the dancing sunbeams shone aslant, turning the ice-laden branches of the trees to masses of shimmering diamonds, amethysts, topaz and emeralds, in bars and slender wreaths outlined sharply against the opal sky.

"Mohawks gone back to own country, not come back," declared Canady, when, after sunrise, he returned from the examination of the trail he had followed, until satisfied of the direction which the war-party had taken. With the first dawn he had quietly left the house, taken up the broad trail of the retreating Indians, and satisfied himself that they were on their homeward way.

"You think there is no danger of another attack to-night?" questioned the Captain.

"Not come here-mabbe go some wigwam on trail-mabbe go to Mohawk country not stop-do' know."

After a hearty breakfast Captain Lawrence knelt with his household and devoutly thanked God for their providential deliverance from the massacre that had menaced all beneath his roof.

The day passed without alarm, and no sound of war-whoop disturbed the night, but early upon the second morning after the attack the brig Nautilus cast anchor at the little landing, the Captain bringing the intelligence that Lady Ann Hutchinson, with her entire household, had been massacred at Throgg's Point, the attack having been made by the Mohawks shortly after ten o'clock on the previous evening. The dwelling had been burned, the outbuild

ings destroyed, the cattle slaughtered, and after completing their murderous work the savages had beat a retreat, taking with them the spoils they had collected, but not a single prisoner. Every white person was slain-men, women and children lay weltering in their life-blood beneath the pitying stars when the slayers embarked in their canoes on their retreat to their own country.

As on the former occasion, they had lain in wait during the day, to sally forth under cover of darkness on their mission of slaughter.

Colonel Lawrence gladly embraced the opportunity of sailing to the Isle of Wight, and although the seamen, with all the superstition of their calling, and the times, demurred against taking a dead body aboard, Captain Broadbent, willing to accommodate a man in the high standing of Captain Lawrence, put aside his own secret misgiving and consented to receive the mutilated remains.

Canady has no people-no home, he will go with his white brother, to live in the wigwam of the Montauks, and they shall be his people," declared the bereaved young warrior. "When Mohawks come to kill red brothers, Canady take scalps. Ugh!"

At sunset the rude coffin, fashioned by the carpenter at the little settlement, was borne to the waiting boat, the two passengers stepped in and were rowed to the ship, and with a fair wind the Nautilus sailed away.

CHAPTER XL

THE SLAVE SHIP

"Over the roar of the signal gun
The surging billows swept;
Over the peaceful, dreaming forms

The treacherous waters crept;

And the midnight sky, like a funeral pall,

Hung low o'er the sinking ship,

And the cry of terror, 'We're lost, we're lost!'
Went trembling from lip to lip."

HE green ocean waves, fringed with snow-white foam, rose and fell in measured rhythm, sparkling and shimmering under the rays of the round moon sailing upward in aerial splendour toward the zenith, a disc of burnished gold paling the galaxy of stars in the pearly November sky flecked here and there with fleecy cloud mists, ever changing as they floated softly in the opal arch.

A fair wind filled the canvas of the Nautilus, bearing her smoothly onward toward the Isle of Wight, a destination she was swiftly nearing.

Captain Broadbent, her weather-beaten, staunch commander, impatiently paced the quarter-deck, giving an occasional order to the wheelman, as he glanced at the compass within the binnacle, or whenever his keen eye detected, by the drawing of the sails, that the vessel was off her course by a quarter of a point.

Leaning against the taffrail stood Henry Lawrence, his eyes fixed thoughtfully, almost sternly, upon the long lines of spray flashing back the moon's

silver in prismatic lustre, while the ship sped over the rippling waters, his thoughts with the maiden he was soon to meet, whose sire, asleep in death, lay in the cabin below.

By his side stood Canady, a picturesque figure, enveloped in a bearskin robe, his arms folded across his chest, an impersonation of manly strength, his head towering above the brawny marines near at hand.

"Big canoe!"

The Indian uttered the brief sentence, and pointed eastward.

Seven bells had just been struck.

"I see nothing. I think for once you must be mistaken, Canady," returned Colonel Lawrence. "Neither the Captain nor the lookout appears to have noticed a sail."

"Indian see 'em in moonshine-pale-face brother see 'um bimeby," answered Canady, and with his eyes fixed intently in the direction he had indicated, he awaited the discovery by the lookout.

Sail-ho!" shouted the lookout two minutes later, the stentorian shout ringing over the water like a trumpet call.

Whereaway?" called the Captain, as, glass in hand, he swept the broad expanse.

About two points off the lee-bow, sir."

Aye, aye," responded the Captain, as instantly he levelled his glass in the direction given by the lookout, and there, in the moonglade, less than a mile distant, was a long, low-hulled, rakish-looking craft that appeared to be sailing close-hauled, but her behaviour would seem to suggest that her wheelman was but a novice, as one moment she would luff until her sails were all aflap and the next moment she would swing off two or three points free.