"And with such expectations I will apply for the additional grant," said Mr. Campbell, "for to have neighbors in this solitude, I would almost make them a present of the land."

"I suspect that in a few years you will have neighbors enough, without resorting to such an expedient," replied Mr. Emmerson, "but according to your present proposal, they may be better selected, and you may make terms which will prevent any nuisances."

The works at the mill proceeded rapidly, and before the hay-harvest the mill was complete. Alfred was very careful, and paid every attention to what was going on, and so did Martin, that they might understand the machinery. This was very simple. Mr. Emmerson tried the mill, and found it to answer well. He explained every thing to Alfred, and put the mill to work, that he might be fully master of it. As it was a fortnight after the mill was at work before Mr. Emmerson could obtain a pa.s.sage back to Montreal, Alfred and Martin worked both mills during that time, and felt satisfied that they required no further instruction. The soldiers, at the request of Mr. Campbell, were allowed to remain till the hay-harvest, and as soon as the hay was gathered in, they were paid and returned to the fort. Captain Sinclair, who, from his letter, had been expected to arrive much sooner, came just as the soldiers had left the farm. It need hardly be said that he was received most warmly. He had a great deal to tell them, and had brought out a great many presents; those for poor little Percival he kept back, of course. Emma and Mary were delighted to have him again as a companion, and to resume their walks with him; a fortnight thus pa.s.sed away very quickly, when his leave of absence expired, and he was obliged to return to the fort.

Previous, however, to his going away, he requested a private interview with Mr. and Mrs. Campbell, in which he stated his exact position and his means, and requested their sanction to his paying his addresses to Mary. Mr. and Mrs. Campbell, who had already perceived the attentions he had shown to her, did not hesitate to express their satisfaction at his request, and their best wishes for his success; and having so done, they left him to forward his own suit, which Captain Sinclair did not fail to do that very evening, Mary Percival was too amiable and right-minded a girl not at once to refuse or accept Captain Sinclair. As she had long been attached to him she did not deny that such was the case, and Captain Sinclair was overjoyed at his success.

"I have spoken frankly to you, Captain Sinclair," said Mary; "I have not denied that you have an interest in my affections; but I must now request you to let me know what are your future views."

"To do just what you wish me to do."

"I have no right to advise, and no wish to persuade. I have my own path of duty pointed out to me, and from that I can not swerve."

"And what is that?"

"It is that, under present circ.u.mstances, I must not think of leaving my uncle and aunt. I have been bred up and educated by them; I have as an orphan shared their prosperity; I have a deep debt of grat.i.tude to pay, and I can not consent to return to England to enjoy all the advantages which your means will afford, while they remain in their present isolated position. Hereafter circ.u.mstances may alter my opinion, but such it is at present."

"But if I am willing to remain with you here to share your fortunes, will not that satisfy you?"

"No, certainly not; for that would be allowing you to do injustice to yourself. I presume you do not mean to quit your profession?"

"I had no such intention; but still, if I have to choose between you and the service, I shall not hesitate."

"I trust you will not hesitate, but determine to adhere steadily to your profession for the present, Captain Sinclair. It will not do for you to give up your prospects and chance of advancement for even such a woman as me," continued Mary, smiling; "nor must you think of becoming a backwoodsman for a pale-faced girl."

"Then what am I to do if, as you say, you will not leave your uncle and aunt?"

"Wait, Captain Sinclair; be satisfied that you have my affections, and wait patiently till circ.u.mstances may occur which will enable me to reward your affection without being guilty of ingrat.i.tude toward those to whom I owe so much. On such terms I accept you willingly; but you must do your duty to yourself, while I must discharge _my_ duty toward my uncle and aunt."

"I believe you are right, Mary," replied Captain Sinclair; "only I do not see any definite hope of our being united. Can you give me any prospect to cheer me?"

"We are both very young, Captain Sinclair," observed Mary; "in a year or two, my uncle and aunt may be less lonely and more comfortable than at present. In a year or two the war may end, and you may honorably retire upon half-pay; in fact, so many chances are there which are hidden from us and come upon us so unexpectedly, that it is impossible to say what may take place. And if, after waiting patiently for some time, none of these chances do turn up, you have yet another in your favor."

"And what is that, Mary?"

"That, perhaps, I may be tired of waiting myself," replied Mary, with a smile.

"Upon that chance, then, I will live in hope," replied Captain Sinclair; "if you will only reward me when you consider that my faithful service demands it, I will serve as long as Jacob did for Rachel."

"Do so, and you shall not be deceived at the end of your services, as he was," replied Mary; "but now let us return to the house."

Captain Sinclair departed the day afterward, quite satisfied with Mary's resolution.

CHAPTER x.x.xII.

As Henry had predicted, during the autumn the whole family were fully employed. The stock had increased very much, they had a large number of young calves and heifers, and the sheep had lambed down very favorably.

Many of the stock were now turned into the bush, to save the feed on the prairies. The sheep with their lambs, the cows which were in milk, and the young calves only were retained. This gave them more leisure to attend to the corn harvest, which was now ready, and it required all their united exertions from daylight to sunset to get it in, for they had a very large quant.i.ty of ground to clear. It was, however, got in very successfully, and all stacked in good order. Then came the thrashing of the wheat, which gave them ample employment; and as soon as it could be thrashed out, it was taken to the mill in a wagon, and ground down, for Mr. Campbell had engaged to supply a certain quant.i.ty of flour to the fort before the winter set in. They occasionally received a visit from Captain Sinclair and the Colonel, and some other officers, for now they had gradually become intimate with many of them.

Captain Sinclair had confided to the Colonel his engagement to Mary Percival, and in consequence the Colonel allowed him to visit at the farm as often as he could, consistently with his duty. The other officers who came to see them, perceiving how much Captain Sinclair engrossed the company of Mary Percival, were very a.s.siduous in their attentions to Emma, who laughed with and at them, and generally contrived to give them something to do for her during their visit, as well as to render their attentions serviceable to the household. On condition that Emma accompanied them, they were content to go into the punt and fish for hours; and indeed, all the lake-fish which were caught this year were taken by the officers. There were several very pleasant young men among them and they were always well received, as they added very much to the society at the farm.

Before the winter set in the flour was all ready, and sent to the fort, as were the cattle which the Colonel requested, and it was very evident that the Colonel was right when he said that the arrangement would be advantageous to both parties. Mr. Campbell, instead of drawing money to pay, this year for the first time received a bill on the government to a considerable amount for the flour and cattle furnished to the troops; and Mrs. Campbell's account for fowls, pork, etc., furnished to the garrison, was by no means to be despised. Thus, by the kindness of others, his own exertions, and a judicious employment of his small capital, Mr. Campbell promised to be in a few years a wealthy and independent man. As soon as the harvest was in, Malachi and John, who were of no use in thrashing out the corn, renewed their hunting expeditions, and seldom returned without venison. The Indians had not been seen by Malachi during his excursions, nor any trace of their having been in the neighborhood; all alarm, therefore, on that account was now over, and the family prepared to meet the coming winter with all the additional precautions which the foregoing had advised them of. But during the Indian summer they received letters from England, detailing, as usual, the news relative to friends with whom they had been intimate; also one from Quebec, informing Mr. Campbell that his application for the extra grant of land was consented to; and another from Montreal, from Mr. Emmerson, stating that he had offered terms to two families of settlers who bore very good characters, and if they were accepted by Mr.

Campbell, the parties would join them at the commencement of the ensuing spring.

This was highly gratifying to Mr. Campbell, and as the terms were, with a slight variation, such as he had proposed, he immediately wrote to Mr.

Emmerson, agreeing to terms, and requesting that the bargain might be concluded. At the same time that the Colonel forwarded the above letters, he wrote to Mr. Campbell to say that the interior of the fort required a large quant.i.ty of plank for repairs, that he was authorized to take them from Mr. Campbell, at a certain price, if he could afford to supply them on these terms, and have them ready by the following spring. This was another act of kindness on the part of the Colonel, as it would now give employment to the saw-mill for the winter, and it was during the winter, and at the time that the snow was on the ground, that they could easily drag the timber after it was felled to the saw-mill.

Mr. Campbell wrote an answer, thanking the Colonel for his offer, which he accepted, and promised to have the planks ready by the time the lake was again open.

At last the winter set in, with its usual fall of snow. Captain Sinclair took his leave for a long time, much to the sorrow of all the family, who were warmly attached to him. It was arranged that the only parties who were to go on the hunting excursions should be Malachi and John, as Henry had ample employment in the barns; and Martin and Alfred, in felling timber, and dragging up the stems to the saw-mill, would, with attending to the mill as well, have their whole time taken up. Such were the arrangements out of doors, and now that they had lost the services of poor Percival, and the duties to attend to in doors were so much increased, Mrs. Campbell and the girls were obliged to call in the a.s.sistance of Mr. Campbell whenever he could be spared from the garden, which was his usual occupation. Thus glided on the third winter in quiet and security; but in full employment, and with so much to do and attend to, that it pa.s.sed very rapidly.

It was in the month of February, when the snow was very heavy on the ground, that one day Malachi went up to the mill to Alfred, whom he found alone attending the saws, which were in full activity; for Martin was squaring out the timber ready to be sawed at about one hundred yards' distance.

[Ill.u.s.tration: THE INDIAN LETTER.]

"I am glad to find you alone, sir," said Malachi, "for I have something of importance to tell you of, and I do not like at present that any body else should know any thing about it."

"What is it, Malachi?" inquired Alfred.

"Why, sir, when I was out hunting yesterday, I went round to a spot where I had left a couple of deer-hides last week, that I might bring them home, and I found a letter stuck to them with a couple of thorns."

"A letter, Malachi!"

"Yes, sir, an Indian letter. Here it is." Malachi then produced a piece of birch bark, of which the underneath drawing is a fac-simile.

[Ill.u.s.tration]

"Well," said Alfred, "it may be a letter, but I confess it is all Greek to me. I certainly do not see why you wish to keep it a secret. Tell me."

"Well, sir, I could not read one of your letters half so well as I can this; and it contains news of the greatest importance. It's the Indian way of writing, and I know also whom it comes from. A good action is never lost, they say, and I am glad to find that there is some grat.i.tude in an Indian."

"You make me very impatient, Malachi, to know what it means; tell me from whom do you think the letter comes?"

"Why, sir, do you see this mark here?" said Malachi, pointing to one of the lowest down on the piece of bark.

"Yes; it is a foot, is it not?"

"Exactly, sir; now, do you know whom it comes from?"

"I can't say I do."

"Do you remember two winters back our picking up the Indian woman, and carrying her to the house, and your father curing her sprained ankle?"

"Certainly; is it from her?"

"Yes, sir; and you recollect she said that she belonged to the band which followed the Angry Snake."

"I remember it very well; but now, Malachi, read me the letter at once, for I am very impatient to know what she can have to say."