perhaps, by the recollections of his own distant and beautiful France—
"Vive le vin, vive l'amour," &c. &c.
" 'Tis well you understood the knave!" whispered the scout, when they had gained a little distance from the place, and letting his rifle fall into the hollow of his arm again; "I soon saw that he was one of them uneasy Frenchers, and well for him it was, that his speech was friendly, and his wishes kind; or a place might have been found for his bones amongst those of his countrymen."
He was interrupted by a long and heavy groan, which arose from the little basin, as though in truth, the spirits of the departed lingered about their watery sepulchre.
"Surely, it was of flesh!" continued the scout; "no spirit could handle its arms so steadily!"
"It was of flesh, but whether the poor fellow still belongs to this world, may well be doubted," said Heyward, glancing his eyes quickly around him, and missing
