Part 39 (1/2)

”A song of the chase or a boat song, we don't care which,” said Smith.

”Well,” replied Helen, with a smile at the ardor of the men. ”If you can imagine it is morning instead of evening, perhaps Scott's 'Hunting Song'

will do.”

The paddles almost ceased plying, and in the still night, her sweet contralto voice filled the air from sh.o.r.e to sh.o.r.e.

”'Waken lords and ladies gay, The mist has left the mountain gray, Springlets in the dawn are steaming, Diamonds on the brake are gleaming; And foresters have busy been To track the buck in thicket green.

Now we come to chant our lay, 'Waken lords and ladies gay.

”'Waken lords and ladies gay!

To the greenwood haste away.

We can show you where he lies, Fleet of foot and tall of size; We can show the marks he made When 'gainst the oak his antlers frayed.

You shall see him brought to bay, 'Waken lords and ladies gay.

”Louder, louder, chant the lay, 'Waken lords and ladies gay!

Tell them youth and mirth and glee Run a course as well as we; Time! stern huntsman! who can balk, Staunch as hound, and fleet as hawk?

Think of this and rise with day, Gentle lords and ladies gay!”

Sweetly the echoes died away over the water, thanks of appreciation were murmured, and they were calling upon Beaumont to fulfil his promise when another song was wafted from the sh.o.r.e towards them.

”Why, that's Bateese,” cried the Doctor. ”He can sing better than I can.

Listen to him to-night, mine will keep for another day.”

”Hearken!” whispered Helen. ”How quaint it is!”

Plus jolie femme ees nice an' neat, I sorry ven I leave 'er, Mit eyes so blue an' lips so sweet She's cunnin' as de beaver.

She love me well, dis gal of mine, For her I toe de scratch, sir; Ba gos.h.!.+ her name is Emmiline An' I will be her match, sir.

For she was reeche, wid pater's gold An' farm down by de rivare; But mon cheval, it had be sold An' all my tings, pis aller.

But now I work so hard again To make up for my losses; An' nevare more will give her pain But cover her wid kisses.

An' from dis time I'll work and wait As never yet did lover; An' pray Mon Dieu to bless our fate An' make her mine forever.

Den my sweet vife, ma fille so true, Wid my fond arms around her, Vill bless ma life, sweet entre nous, An' make me still de fonder.

An' when de leetle garcon come An' fille so p't.i.te an' jolie, We bless de Lord an' for de same Will give him all de glory.

The last verse almost took Helen's breath away, and, forgetting all about Beaumont's song, she bade the officers good-night, and with Harold hastened on sh.o.r.e to their own dwelling.

CHAPTER x.x.xII.

It was July before Colonel Battersby's column, after a long march from Montreal, reached Kingston and joined the forces of General Drummond, and none too soon, for word had been forwarded of the disastrous invasion of the Niagara frontier under Brigadier-Generals Scott and Ripley. Fort Erie had been taken, and Commander-in-Chief Brown, with a heavy force, had advanced against Major-General Riall and defeated the British forces at Chippewa. The country was ravaged, St. Davids burned, Niagara threatened.