trustworthy fellow, and came straight to me instead
of blabbing the secret at the canteen. The
enemy are wide awake across the border; they
hope to catch us napping."

"The enemy?" cried I, half-incredulously;
"why, the roads are sealed up. The drifts are
deep enough to smother twenty armies; not a
gun, not a waggon, can get along through the
loose snow, and the war must wait till there is
a smooth hard surface for the march."

"What do you say to that? Is that smooth
and hard enough?" said Haworth, pointing to
the frozen surface of Lake Ontario, where a pale
blue sheet of polished ice, striped with fleecy
streaks of snow, reflected the countless stars of
a Canadian night.

Haworth proceeded to tell me that a force
of Americans, powerful in comparison with our
feeble garrison, had secretly assembled on the
south shore of the lake, and, led by experienced
guides, designed to cross the ice, which was
strong enough to bear the weight of a considerable
body marching in Indian file, according
to the custom of western guerilla warfare. The
Indian who brought the news, and who had
been sent by one of the spies in British pay
whom our government then maintained on the
frontier, had, by a prodigious effort, crossed the
frozen lake on snow-shoes, without rest or
refreshment, and had arrived an hour before. At
the time of his setting out, there were many
dangerous places not frozen over to a sufficient
thickness, and there was every likelihood that
several hours would elapse before the enemy
began an advance, which they fully counted on
as a surprise.

"Why, let them come," said I, cheerfully,
and wondering at Haworth's face; "we've got
the ramparts well finished, a stout palisade, and
bastions that would not disgrace Quebec itself.
We shall beat them off, and the repulse will
be worth a step in the Army List to both of
us."

Haworth shook his head.

"They won't come here; small as our fort
is, they know it to be well armed and in good
repair, and too hard a nut for them to crack.
I forgot to tell you that the invading force
will not consist of American regulars, but of
twelve or fifteen hundred of the New York
militia, under a notorious partisan, Colonel
Carter—-"

"Carter? You don't mean Jeremy Carter,
the plundering rascal who was near being
cashiered for his cruelty at Senetchwan, near
Sandwich, where he burned the village?"

"I do mean him," said Haworth. "He is the
most unscrupulous leader on the frontiers, but
he is a daring dog, and is not unpopular with
the mob of his native state. As I told you, he
has under his command at least twelve hundred
militiamen: not to mention a force of six
hundred Mohawk Indians in the pay of Congress.
And their destination is Hamilton."

This explained Haworth's unwonted emotion.
In the fort of Hamilton, at the western extremity
of the lake, was residing, as I well knew,
one very dear to him. Jane, Major Lee's only
daughter, was affianced, with the full approval
of her surviving parent, to Arthur Haworth,
who was her cousin, and it was understood that
their marriage was only deferred until my
captain should be gazetted major. It was only
natural that he should be alarmed by the
prospect of a sudden attack upon the fort under
Major Lee's command, the place being weak
and the garrison slender.

"You see," said Haworth, "the general has
been deceived by false reports, and has drawn
away every available bayonet towards the Lower
Province. Since the detachment of the Sixtieth
were ordered off to Kingston, Lee has scarcely
had men enough to mount guard and do fatigue
work. And, depend on it, the Americans know
well what a rich prize they will get, seeing that
money, cannon, powder, and stores of all kinds
are waiting there for transport to Toronto. The
old major, you know, is as brave as a lion, but
his resistance will probably lead to a massacre
when the fort falls, and Carter is likely to have
neither the will nor the power to restrain his
savage allies, led as they are by Wild Cat,
the very worst of the Mohawk nation. What
can I do? Even if I dared abandon my
post, to march the men to Hamilton is
impossible, and Jane may perish while I am idling
here."

Haworth was as gallant and good a fellow
as any in our army, but he was utterly unmanned
by the horrid vision his boding fancy had called
up. I could not but own to myself, as I strove
to comfort him, that he had reasons for his
worst misgivings. But what could we do?
Even supposing that my commanding officer
could venture, at the risk of ignominious dismissal
from the service, to abandon his post, our
hundred and nine effectives could never cope with
the superior numbers of the enemy; and the road
was hopelessly impassable to any but the most
adroit woodsman trained to snow-shoes. The
lake presented a tempting expanse of flint-hard
ice, but we knew that along the coast to
the westward there were many spots where the
flowing water from brook and creek had spoiled
the uniformity of the surface: substituting rough
"hummocks," cemented together by treacherous
"glaire," for the firm and polished sheet that
stretched away in front. A good many of our
men were raw recruits from England, unused to
ice, and certain to flounder and exhaust
themselves in drifts of any depth, while only half
a dozen of the old soldiers were even tolerable
performers in snow-shoes. A rescue, therefore,
seemed impossible.

"What on earth can I do?" said poor Haworth;
"the major has not, to the best of my belief,
sixty men under arms. The stockades are rotten,
the earthworks are waiting till our sappers are
at leisure to patch them up, and yet I know the
stout old soldier won't surrender. His resistance
will be just enough to rouse the devil in the
hearts of those without; and when the Indians
get at the spirit casks, who can tell what
barbarous frenzy may take possession of their