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“ You have exceeded my expectations,” said Arthur; s and next week I shall raise your hire, and make you a sharer in the product of those two meadows under the great crag which bears my name. I have for some time proposed to advance you. No thanks, Jacob—I am not in a mood to receive them. I am grateful to you for this favour you have done me. Now be so good as go to the house, company are arriving, and your services may be required; you may put up their horses, and assist the other servants, who are all as busy as they can be in preparing for to-morrow.”

Jacob accordingly went to the lodge, in compliance with his master's request, leaving Arthur musing alone. The Pastor was shut up in his library, where he had remained almost unseen during the past week. Jane was compelled to receive all the friends that came to the valley on this occasion, and they were not few. Among them were Miss Bathurst, Farmer Joshua and his wife, and a son of the latter, who had once been an admirer of Miss Lee. It was usual for many persons to come from settlements around to the Sabbath services, conducted by the Pastor in a large log-house, on his granılson's estate. Those who came from places the most distant sometimes arrived on the Saturday evening, at the lodge, where they always found a bed and a hospitable welcome. It was thought the preparations for the Sabbath, by public prayer, in the chapel, would not be performed on the present evening; but the place was lighted as usual, and at the exact time the Pastor entered, leaning upon the arm of his grandson.

There was no pulpit; a chair, a reading-desk, and cushion, included all that was provided for the minister,

the small assembly having for their seats, rude benches, chairs, stools, and round blocks of some imperishable wood.

My friends," said the Pastor, “ since last we met here to celebrate the praises of the Eternal, I have lost one who was dear to me." His voice trembled, but presently grew stronger. “ Shall I say lost? You knew her; she met with us here from week to week; she has sang with us of the joys of heaven. Tell me, my friends, is she not living vet? May not the hearts of the bereaved firmly fasten on the belief that she is happy, though we see her not?

According to the simplicity of that assembly one did not hesitate to rise and reply to the Pastor-it was the Indian, Sassa, whose brother sat by him, all the fire of his eyes quenched in tears of feeling.

My father asks,” said Sassa, speaking in tolerable English, his breast heaving with that enthusiasm religion so frequently arouses in the soul of the child of nature, “ if our white sister is living yonder,” he pointed with his finger upwards, impressively, “and if she be happy ?” He looked around, standing in a noble position. There was something exceedingly elevated on his countenance, his eye was full of a sublime depth of expression. “ My father who has taught us in the Great Book, asks thisand Sassa the brave tells his father-Yes. Has she not lived as the Great Spirit told her to live ?—therefore she must be gone to that happy country where the Great Spirit is. Has she not conversed with the Great Spirit here, and has He not called her away with his own voice? He will not deceive his children. Look and see.” Sassa pointed to the large folio on the Pastor's reading desk ;

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the minister bowed down his face, for the Indian had strengthened his heart, and he inwardly thanked God for the words of the convert. 66 The Red men know that they will not die,” said Sassa. They know they must go away from their tribe, from their wives, and from the woods and prairies in which they have hunted—but they will not die! Ask them ;-they will tell you they shall live as long as the moon. They will tell you they shall eat buffalo-flesh, and corn, and fish, after the earth is laid on them. They will tell you the bad Indians will be punished, the good Indians will be happy-very happy. And if the Red men know all this, do not the White men know more? Look in the Great Book, and see.” Again he pointed, and the Pastor said to the assembly

“ He has spoken well. Let there be no selfish repinings in Christian mourners hearts. Some are here, who have lost, like me, beings whose lives seemed as dear as their own. Ah, friends! shall we murmur at Providence ? The Indians teach us lessons, shall we not show them examples? Help me to say, God be thanked for our sorrows, as well as for our joys, for we know that all things shaļl work together for good to them that love God.”

The usual form of devotion was then gone through, and did not occupy in the whole a half an hour. A stranger would have seen a heartfelt spirit of union and of gravity pervading the chapel, but no sound of grief would have informed him of the peculiar sorrow in which all shared. The hymn last sung, it was well known, had been a favourite one with Lucy, and the Pastor and Arthur were observed to close their books,

and at the same instant to kneel down. The sympathising congregation went on to the second verse only, and then ceased of their own accord. The concluding prayer was offered up by Arthur, it was brief and affecting.

On coming out of the chapel the Pastor saw his principal communicants collecting around him ; each comforted and condoled with him, speaking with the utmost • deference and good will. He received their kindness as it was meant, shook hands with each, and informed them that the burial would take place shortly after the next sunrise, in order that the services of the Sabbath might proceed without any interruption. After this scene, which had been trying to his fortitude, he returned to his study, and spent most part of the night in prayer. Arthur, also, retired to his own room, and remained secluded until the day dawned. The family apartment accommodated all the females of the house, including the visitors, plain but clean beds having been put up round the sides. The coffin had been removed to the chamber which Lucy had occupied. In the spacious kitchen, ranges of beds accommodated most of the male servants and the male visitors, the rest slept on the second story. Upon Jane had fallen the mantle of Lucy's domestic authority; all the house had been placed under her superintendence, though contrary to her wish.

Just as it was growing dark she went with Deborah to the poultry-yard, and to the small pond adjoining, where they fed the fowls and swans, a task which had been Lucy's exclusively. Jane was stooping to caress one of the stately birds which floated close to her, when she saw Clinton standing at a few yards distance. His back was towards her, and he seemed looking at the

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numerous windows of the house. She raised hersell instantly, and turning to Deborah, whispereil

“ Who is he standing near us there?"

“ Whisht, darling! I know him ; its the villain who desarted our dear Miss Lucy, as O'Reilly desarted me,” said Deborah, with energy. “ III luck light on him, for a desaiver as he is !"

Clinton turned, and came deliberately near. pearance was much altered. He seemed to have joined himself to the daring hunters of the woods, for in his right hand was a carabine, and at his waist a shot pouch, a knife, and a wallet ; a small pack, also, was slung at his back; a cap of fur covered his head; and he wore mocassins and leggings.

Miss Anderson," said be, with more respect than familiarity,“ will you have the goodness to tell me why it is that I see the windows of the lodge all curtained so closely ?”

“Oh! agrah! Is it yourself that asks?" began Deborah, with a wrathsul countenance.

6 Shame on

ye

for a desaiver! and its I that wish you may never meet with any one in the time to come to love you as she who lies, poor young lady! in her coffin, in that same chamber which you may see over the kitchen, only the window-curtains are down and hide it. You know that same room well enough, you do; for many's the time I have heard you playing the kitar under it, witching the heart out of her with your singing, and so you did, like a false gintleman as you were, and shame on ye!"

Clinton placed his carabine on the ground, and seemed moved :-“ Miss Anderson," said he, after a minute's wilence, “ can you not so far feel for me, as to permit

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