muscles, expectant of I knew not what. 

 Marc looked at me with some surprise. 

 "It's only a woodpecker!" said he. 

 "But it's only in the spring," I protested, "that he has a cry like that!" 

 "He cries untimely, as an omen of the ills to come!" said Marc, half meaning it and half in jest. 

 Had it been anywhere on the perilous frontier,—on the Richelieu or in the West, or nigh the bloody Massachusetts line, my suspicions would have sprung up wide awake. But in this quiet land between the Habitants and the Canard I was off my guard,—and what a relief it was, indeed, to let myself be careless for a little! I thought no more of the woodpecker, but remembered that sister with the red hair. I came back to her by indirection, however. 

 "And how did you manage, lad, to be seeing Mistress Prudence, and her sister, and the child, and yet no others of the English? A matter of dark nights and back windows? Eh? But come to think of it, there was a clear moon this day four weeks back, when you were at Annapolis." 

 "No, Father," answered Marc, "it was all much more simple and less adventurous than that. Some short way out of the town is a little river, the Equille, and a pleasant hidden glade set high upon its bank. It is a favoured resort of both the ladies; and there I met them as often as I was permitted. Mizpah would sometimes choose to play apart with the child, down by the water's edge if the tide were full, so I had some gracious opportunity with Prudence.—  My time being brief, I made the most of it!" he added drily. His quaint directness amused me mightily, and I chuckled as I shaped the red iron upon the anvil. 

 "And who," I inquired, "is this kind sister, with the even redder hair, who goes away with such a timely discretion?" 

 "Oh, yes," said Marc, "I forgot you knew nothing of her. She is Mistress Mizpah Hanford, the widow of a Captain Hanford who was some far connection of the Governor's. Her property is in and about Annapolis, and she lives there to manage it, keeping Prudence with her for companionship. Her child is four or five years old, a yellow-haired, rosy boy called Philip. She's very tall,—a head taller than Prudence, and older, of 

 Prev. P 7/120 next