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These Indians readily responded to the appeal of the Frenchmen's calumet, invited them ashore, and feasted them.

Captain Savage did not deign a reply, but our grappling-irons being ready, our helm was put hard a starboard, we ran alongside the brig, and had her fast locked in a deadly embrace. Although the Frenchmen's suspicions had been aroused, they had made no preparations to receive us; yet as we ran her on board, we saw that there were numbers of people on her deck.

Just think of it! But it has not been filled for more than a hundred years. "No, I didn't see it," replied Hans. "It is down in the cellar, and I didn't want to go there without father. I heard some of the visitors telling about the marks of the Frenchmen's hatchets on its sides. One of the times they captured the castle, they tried to break open the tun. They thought it was full of wine.

In the first place, lemonade is not much drank, as you may suppose, among the French in winter; and, in the second, my beverage had an appearance of ostentation, from being one of the dearest articles I could have called for. Unhappily, I dropped my newspaper it fell under the Frenchmen's table; instead of calling the garcon, I was foolish enough to stoop for it myself.

The two flags of England and France flew out as before from the peaks of the two ships. "Morton has boarded the Frenchman," cried Lord Claymore at length. "No doubt now as to the result. The Frenchmen fight bravely though. At them again, my boys! Hurrah! hurrah! hurrah! hurrah!" shouted Rolf. "Down comes the Frenchmen's flag." The fight was over, the "Scorpion" was the victor.

I wish there was not quite so much tide, though it is in our favour; it is setting us bodily down towards the shoal water. Keep the lead going, there, in the fore-chains. We should do none the worse, sir, if the Frenchmen's boat were cut adrift."

If Wales has its Snowdon and Cader Idris, the Highlands have their Hill of the Water Dogs, and that of the Swarthy Swine: If Wales has a history, so have the Highlands not indeed so remarkable as that of Wales, but eventful enough: If Wales has had its heroes, its Glendower and Father Pryce, the Highlands have had their Evan Cameron and Ranald of Moydart; If Wales has had its romantic characters, its Griffith Ap Nicholas and Harry Morgan, the Highlands have had Rob Roy and that strange fellow Donald Macleod, the man of the broadsword, the leader of the Freacadan Dhu, who at Fontenoy caused, the Lord only knows, how many Frenchmen's heads to fly off their shoulders, who lived to the age of one hundred and seven, and at seventy-one performed gallant service on the Heights of Abraham: wrapped in whose plaid the dying Wolfe was carried from the hill of victory. If Wales has been a land of song, have not the Highlands also? If Wales can boast of Ab Gwilym and Gronwy, the Highlands can boast of Ossian and MacIntyre.

When La Motte and I went up to them to see what could be done, they could only exclaim, holding up their glasses, "Come here, old fellows! The Frenchmen's liquor is good, and they are jolly cocks, and we never wish for better companions. Come now, take a glass, you'll not taste finer anywhere."

"Then I would advise you to get rid of the rum-casks at once," said the surgeon. "I see that your people are already eyeing one of them as if they were about to broach it; and if they get drunk, which they certainly will, we shall be in the Frenchmen's power."

Captain Nicholls, considering the case desperate, went to all the Frenchmen's cabins, begging them to rise; he said, that, although their lives were not in danger, their assistance was desired at the pumps, where it would be of the greatest service. They got up accordingly, and cheerfully lent their aid.