CHAPTER XXXI.

In October of the same year, a numerous body of Americans, principally troops of the line, had been collected under the orders of General Van Rensselaer, and advantage was taken of an extremely dark night to push them across the river, with a view to the occupation of the commanding heights above the village of Queenston. In this, favored by circumstances, the enemy were eminently successful. They carried the batteries, and at day-break the heights were to be seen covered with their battalions, before whom were thrown out a considerable body of riflemen. At the first alarm, the little detachment stationed at Queenston marched out to dislodge them; but such was the impatient gallantry of General Brock, who had succeeded to the command on this line of frontier, that without waiting for the main body from Fort George to come up, he threw himself at the head of the flank companies of the Forty-Ninth, and moving forward in double quick time, soon came within sight of the enemy.

Among the General's aides-de-camp, was Henry Grantham, who, having succeeded in making his escape at the fatal defeat of the Moravian Village, with a few men of his company, had in the absence of his regiment (then prisoners of war), and from considerations of personal esteem, been attached as a supernumerary to his staff. With him at this moment was the light-hearted De Courcy, and as the young men rode a little in rear of their Chief, they were so rapt in admiration of his fine form and noble daring (as he still kept dashing onward, far in advance even of the handful of troops who followed eagerly and rapidly in his rear), that they utterly forgot the danger to which he was exposed.

On arriving at the ascent, the General for a moment reined in his charger, in order to give time to the rear to close in, then removing and waving his plumed hat.

"Hurrah, Forty-Ninth!" he exclaimed, in language suited to those he addressed. "Up these heights lies our road--on ourselves depends the victory. Not a shot till we gain the summit--then three cheers for old England--a volley--and the bayonet must do the rest!"

So saying, he resumed his hat; and wheeling his horse, once more led his gallant little band up the hill.

But it was not likely that the Americans would suffer the approach of so determined an enemy without attempting to check their progress in the most efficient manner. Distinguished from those around him by his commanding air, not less than by the military insignia that adorned him, the person of the General was at once recognised for one bearing high rank, and as such became an object of especial attention to the dispersed riflemen. Shot after shot flew past the undaunted officer, carrying death into the close ranks that followed noiselessly in his rear, yet without harming him. At length he was seen by his aides-de-camp, both of whom had kept their eyes upon him, to reel in his saddle. An instant brought the young men to his side, De Courcy on his right and Grantham on his left hand. They looked up into his face. It was suffused with the hues of death. A moment afterwards and he fell from his horse, with his head reclining upon the chest of Henry Grantham. There was a momentary halt in the advancing column; all were dismayed at the dreadful event.

De Courcy and Grantham, having abandoned their horses, now bore their beloved leader to the side of the road, and sought some spot out of reach of the enemy's fire, where he might breathe his last moments in peace.

As Henry Grantham glanced his eye towards an old untenanted building, that lay some fifty yards off the road, and which he conceived fully adapted to the purpose, he saw the form of a rifleman partly exposed at a corner of the building, whose action at the moment was evidently that of one loading his piece. The idea that this skulking enemy might have been the same who had given the fatal death-wound to his beloved Chief, added to the conviction that he was preparing to renew the shot, filled him with the deepest desire of vengeance. As the bodies of several men, picked off by the riflemen, lay along the road (one at no great distance from the spot on which he stood), he hastened to secure the nearest musket, which, as no shot had been fired by the English, he knew to be loaded.

Leaving De Courcy to support the head of the General, the young Aid-de-camp moved with due caution towards the building; but ere he had gone ten paces, he beheld the object of his pursuit issue altogether from the cover of the building, and advance towards him with his rifle on the trail. More and more convinced that his design was to obtain a near approach, with a view to a more certain aim, he suddenly halted and raised the musket to his shoulder. In vain was a shout to desist uttered by the advancing man--in vain was his rifle thrown aside, as if in token of the absence of all hostile purposes. The excited Henry Grantham heeded not the words--saw not the action. He thought only of the danger of his General, and of his desire to avenge his fall. He fired--the rifleman staggered, and putting his hand to his breast--

"My brother! oh, my unhappy brother!" he exclaimed, and sank senseless to the earth.

Who shall tell the horror of the unfortunate young Aide-de-camp, at recognising in the supposed enemy his long mourned and much loved Gerald! Motion, sense, life, seemed for the instant annihilated by the astounding consciousness of the fratricidal act: the musket fell from his hands, and he who had never known sorrow before, save through those most closely linked to his warm affections, was now overwhelmed, crushed by the mountain of despair that fell upon his heart. It was some moments before he could so far recover from the stupor into which that dear and well-remembered voice had plunged him, as to perceive the possibility of the wound not being mortal. The thought acted like electricity upon each stupified sense and palsied limb; and eager with the renewed hope, he bounded forward to the spot where lay the unfortunate Gerald, writhing in his agony. He had fallen on his face, but as Henry approached him, he raised himself with one hand, and with the other beckoned to his brother to draw near.

"Great God, what have I done!" exclaimed the unhappy Henry, throwing himself, in a paroxysm of despair, upon the body of his bleeding brother. "Gerald, my own beloved Gerald, is it thus we meet again? Oh! if you would not kill me, tell me that your wound is not mortal. Assure me that I am not a fratricide. Oh, Gerald, Gerald! my brother, tell me that you are not dying."

A faint smile passed over the pale, haggard features of Gerald: he grasped the hand of his brother and pressed it fervently, saying:

"Henry, the hand of fate is visible in all this; therefore condemn not yourself for that which was inevitable. I knew of the attempt of the Americans to possess themselves of the heights, and I crossed over with them under favor of this disguise, determined to find death, combatting at the side of our gallant General. Detaching myself from the ranks, I but waited the advance of the British column to remove from my concealment--you know the rest. But oh, Henry! if you could divine what a relief it is to me to part with existence, you would not wish the act undone. This was all I asked: to see you once more--to embrace you--and to die! Life offered me no hope but this."

Gerald expressed himself with the effort of one laboring under strong bodily pain; and as he spoke he again sank exhausted upon the ground.

"This packet," he continued, taking one from the breast of the hunting-frock he wore, and handing it to his brother, who, silent and full of agony, had again raised his head from the ground and supported it on his shoulder--"this packet, Henry, written at various times during the last fortnight, will explain all that has passed since we last parted in the Miami. When I am no more, read it; and while you mourn over his dishonor, pity the weakness and the sufferings of the unhappy Gerald."

Henry was nearly frantic. The hot tears fell from his burning eyes upon the pale emaciated cheek of his brother, and he groaned in agony.

"Oh God!" he exclaimed, "how shall I ever survive this blow?--my brother! oh, my brother! tell me that you forgive me."

"Most willingly; yet what is there to be forgiven? You took me for an enemy, and hence alone your error. It was fate, Henry. A dreadful doom has long been prophesied to the last of our race. We are the last--and this is the consummation. Let it however console you to think, that though your hand had not slain me another's would. In the ranks of the enemy I should have found--Henry, my kind, my affectionate brother--your hand--there--there--what dreadful faintness at my heart--Matilda, it is my turn now--Oh, God have mercy, oh----"

While this scene was passing by the roadside between the unfortunate brothers, the main body of the British force had come up to the spot where the General still lay expiring in the arms of De Courcy, and surrounded by the principal of the medical staff. The majority of these were of the regiment previously named--veterans who had known and loved their gallant leader during the whole course of his spotless career, and more than one rude hand might be seen dashing the tear that started involuntarily to the eye. As the colors of the Forty-ninth passed before him, the General made an effort to address some language of encouragement to his old corps, but the words died away in indistinct murmurs, and, waving his hand in the direction of the heights, he sank back exhausted with the effort, and resigned his gallant spirit for ever.

For some minutes after life had departed, Henry Grantham continued to hang over the body of his ill-fated brother, with an intenseness of absorption that rendered him heedless even of the rapid fire of musketry in the advance. The sound of De Courcy's voice was the first thing that seemed to call him to consciousness. De Courcy had heard the cry uttered by the latter on receiving the fatal shot, and his imagination had too faithfully portrayed the painful scene that had ensued. A friend of both brothers, and particularly attached of late to the younger from the similar nature of their service, he was inexpressibly shocked, but still cherishing a hope that the wound might not be attended with loss of life, he expected to find his anticipations realized by some communication from his friend. Finding however that the one rose not, and remarking that the demeanor of the other was that of profound despair, he began at length to draw the most unfavorable conclusion, and causing the body of his commander to be borne under cover of the building, until proper means of transport could be found, he hastened to ascertain the full extent of the tragedy.

The horror and dismay depicted in his friend's countenance were speedily reflected on his own, when he saw that the unfortunate Gerald, whose blood had completely saturated the earth on which he lay, was indeed no more. Language at such a moment would not only have been superfluous, but an insult. De Courcy caught and pressed the hand of his friend in silence. The unfortunate young man pointed to the dead body of his brother, and burst into tears. While these were yet flowing in a fulness that promised to give relief to his oppressed heart, a loud shout from the British ranks arrested the attention of both. The sound seemed to have an electric effect on the actions of Henry Grantham. For the first time he appeared conscious there was such a thing as a battle being fought.

"De Courcy," he said, starting up, and with sudden animation, "why do we linger here? The dead"--and he pointed first to the body of the General in the distance, and then to his brother--"the wretched dead claim no service from us now."

"You are right, Henry, our interest in those beloved objects has caused us to be heedless of our duty to ourselves. Victory is our own--but alas! how dearly purchased!"

"How dearly purchased, indeed!" responded Henry, in a tone of such heart-rending agony as caused his friend to repent the allusion. "De Courcy, keep this packet, and should I fall, let it be sent to my uncle, Colonel D'Egville."

De Courcy accepted the trust, and the young men mounted their horses, which a Canadian peasant had held for them in the meantime, and dashing up the ascent, soon found themselves where the action was hottest.

"Forward! victory!" shouted Henry Grantham, and his sword was plunged deep into the side of his nearest enemy. The man fell, and writhing in the last agonies of death, rolled onward to the precipice, and disappeared for ever from the view.

The words, the action--had excited the attention of a tall, muscular, ferocious-looking rifleman, who, hotly pursued by a couple of Indians, was crossing the open ground at his full speed to join the main body of his comrades. A ball struck him just as he had arrived within a few feet of the spot where Henry stood, yet still leaping onward, he made a desperate blow at the head of the officer with the butt end of his rifle. A quick movement disappointed the American of his aim, yet the blow fell so violently on the shoulder, that the stock snapped suddenly asunder at the small of the butt. Stung with pain, Henry Grantham turned to behold his enemy. It was Desborough! The features of the settler expressed the most savage and vindictive passions, as, with the head of the rifle upraised and clenched in both his iron hands, he was about to repeat his blow. Ere it could descend Grantham had rushed in upon him, and his sword, still reeking in the blood it had so recently spilt, was driven to the very hilt in the body of the settler. The latter uttered a terrific scream in which all the most infernal of human passions were wildly blended, and casting aside his rifle, seized the young officer in his powerful gripe. Then ensued a contest the most strange and awful, the settler using every endeavor to gain the edge of the precipice, the other struggling, but in vain, to release himself from his hold. As if by tacit consent, both parties discontinued the struggle, and became mere spectators of the scene.

"Villain!" shouted De Courcy, who saw with dismay the terrible object of the settler, whose person he had recognised--"if you would have quarter, release your hold."

But Desborough, too much given to his revenge to heed the words of the Aide-de-camp, continued silently, yet with advantage, to drag his victim nearer and nearer to the fatal precipice; and every man in the British ranks felt his blood to creep, as he beheld the unhappy officer borne, notwithstanding a desperate resistance, at each moment nigher to the brink.

"For Heaven's sake, men, advance and seize him," exclaimed the terrified De Courcy, leaping forward to the rescue.

Acting on the hint, two or three of the most active of the light infantry rushed from the ranks in the direction taken by the officer.

Desborough saw the movement, and his exertions to defeat it became, considering the loss of blood he had sustained from his wounds, almost herculean. He now stood on the extreme verge of the precipice, where he paused for a moment as if utterly exhausted by his previous efforts. De Courcy was now within a few feet of his unhappy friend, who still struggled ineffectually to free himself, when the settler, suddenly collecting all his energy into a final and desperate effort, raised the unfortunate Gerald from the ground, and with a loud and exulting laugh, dashed his foot violently against the edge of the crag, and threw himself backward into the hideous abyss.

Their picked and whitened bones may be seen even to this day, confounded together and shining through the gloom that pervades every part of the abyss, and often may be remarked an aged and decrepit negro, seated on a rock a few feet above them, leaning his elbows upon his knees, and gazing eagerly as if to distinguish the bones of the one from the bones of the other.

AND THUS WAS THE FEARFUL PROPHECY OF ELLEN HALLOWAY, THE MOTHER OF DESBOROUGH BY WACOUSTA, FULFILLED!

THE END.

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was defying my aunt to such a furious extent, that he couldn't keep straight, but barked himself sideways. The more my aunt looked at him, the more he reproached her; for, she had lately taken to spectacles, and for some inscrutable reason he considered the glasses personal.

Dora made him lie down by her, with a good deal of persuasion; and when he was quiet, drew one of his long ears through and through her hand, repeating thoughtfully, "Even little Jip! Oh, poor fellow!"

"His lungs are good enough," said my aunt gaily, "and his dislikes are not at all feeble. He has a good many years before him, no doubt. But if you want a dog to race with, Little Blossom, he has lived too well for that, and I'll give you one."

"Thank you, aunt," said Dora, faintly. "But don't, please!"

"No?" said my aunt, taking off her spectacles.

"I couldn't have any other dog but Jip," said Dora. "It would be so unkind to Jip! Besides, I couldn't be such friends with any other dog but Jip; because he wouldn't have known me before I was married, and wouldn't have barked at Doady when he first came to our house. I couldn't care for any other dog but Jip, I am afraid, aunt."

"To be sure!" said my aunt, patting her cheek again. "You are right."

"You are not offended," said Dora. "Are you?"

"Why, what a sensitive pet it is!" cried my aunt, bending over her affectionately. "To think that I could be offended!"

"No, no, I didn't really think so," returned Dora; "but I am a little tired, and it made me silly for a moment--I am always a silly little thing, you know; but it made me more silly--to talk about Jip. He has known me in all that has happened to me, haven't you, Jip? And I couldn't bear to slight him, because he was a little altered--could I, Jip?"

Jip nestled closer to his mistress, and lazily licked her hand.

"You are not so old, Jip, are you, that you'll leave your mistress yet," said Dora. "We may keep one another company a little longer!"

My pretty Dora! When she came down to dinner on

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=No. 1 Allan Quatermain.= By H. Rider Haggard =.25= = " 2 King Solomon's Mines.= By H. Rider Haggard =.25= = " 3 My Marriage.= '_THE HEART OF A WOMAN._' A Domestic Novel =.25= = " 4 The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde.= By R. L. Stevenson =.15= = " 5 She: A History of Adventure.= By H. Rider Haggard =.25= = " 6 A Modern Circe.= By the "Duchess" =.25= = " 7 The Red Camellia.= By Fortuné du Boisgobey =.25= = " 8 As in a Looking-Glass.= By F. C. Philips =.25= = " 9 The Marchioness; or, A Marriage by Will.= By Octave Feuillet, author of "The Romance of a Poor Young Man" =.25= = " 10 The Search for Ancestors.= By Fortuné du Boisgobey =.25= = " 11 Dr. Jacob.= A Novel. By M. Betham Edwards =.25= = " 12 Realities of Irish Life.= By W. Steuart Trench =.25= = " 13 The Crime of Chance.= By Frances M. Peard =.25= = " 14 Trench's Wives; or, The Carrington Mystery= =.25= = " 15 The Rose Garden.= A Love Story. By Frances M. Peard =.25= = " 16 The Usurper.= By Judith Gautier =.25= = " 17 Love's Madness; or, The Tarantula's Sting.= A Romance of Baffled Plot and Wasted Passion. By Mathilde Blind. =.25= = " 18 Unawares; or, The Notary's Plot.= By Frances M. Peard =.25= = " 19 The Squire's Daughter; or, The Mystery of Thorpe Regis= =.25= = " 20 Camille; or, The Lady with the Camellias.= By Dumas =.25= = " 21 Lafitte; or, The Pirate of the Gulf.= By Prof. J. H. Ingraham =.25= = " 22 Christine; or, Woman's Trials and Triumphs.= By Laura J. Curtis =.25= = " 23 Out of the Streets.= A Powerful Story of New York City Life. By Charles Gayler =.25= = " 24 Christmas Tales.= By Charles Dickens =.25= = " 25 George Barnwell.= By T. S. Surr =.25= = " 26 The Tenant House; or, Embers from Poverty's Hearth-Stone= =.25= = " 27 Wacousta; or, The Prophecy.= By Richardson =.25= = " 28 Matilda Montgomerie; or, The Prophecy Fulfilled.= By Richardson =.25= = " 29 Our Cousin Veronica; or, Scenes and Adventures over the Blue Ridge= =.25= = " 30 Masaniello; or, The Fisherman's League.= By Alexandre Dumas =.25= = " 31 Ecarte; or, The Salons of Paris.= By Major Richardson =.25= = " 32 Oliver Twist.= By Charles Dickens =.25= = " 33 Canonbury House; or, The Queen's Prophecy.= By Reynolds =.25= = " 34 Ada Arundel; or, The Secret Corridor.= By Reynolds =.25= = " 35 Olivia; or, The Maid of Honor.= By G. W. M. Reynolds =.25= = " 36 The Beggar of Nimes.= By Alexandre Dumas =.25= = " 37 John Barlow's Ward.= A powerful novel of Society. =.25= = " 38 Captain Kyd; or, The Wizard of the Seas.= By Prof. J. H. Ingraham =.25= = " 39 * The Man Outside.= By Professor Clarence M. Boutelle. Illus. =.50= = " 40 * Mrs. Sparks of Paris; or, The Crime at Vintimiglia.= A Realistic Novel. By A. Curtis Bond =.30= = " 41 * Reveries of an Old Maid.= Including her Hints to Young Men Intending to Marry. "A perfect Cyclone of Fun." 40th edition. Illustrated =.30= = " 42 Hardscrabble; or, The Fate of Chicago.= A Tale of Indian Warfare. By Major Richardson =.25= = " 43 Edith Dayton.= A Novel by J. Gordon Bartlett =.25= = " 44 The Dingy House at Kensington.= An Exciting Novel of English Life. By Lady Helen Cameron =.25= = " 45 The Miser's Will; or, The Doom of the Poisoner.= By Geo. W. M. Reynolds =.25= = " 46 Mary Glentworth; or, The Forbidden Marriage.= By Geo. W. M. Reynolds =.25= = " 47 Jessie Cameron.= A Highland Story of Love and Adventure. By Lady Rachel Butler =.25= = " 48 Rory O'More.= A National Romance. By Samuel Lover =.25= = " 49 Paul Ferroll.= A Novel with a Mystery. =.25= = " 50 Geoffrey Trethick; or, The Vicar's People.= A Tale of the Cornish Mines. By George Manville Fenn =.25= = " 51 Kate Penrose; or, Life and its Lessons.= By Mrs. Hubback =.25= = " 52 Hot Corn: Life Scenes in New York.= By Solon Robinson =.25= = " 53 Clare's Fantasy; or, A Cry in the Night.= A Novel by Mary Cruger =.25= = " 54 Joaquin= (the Claude Duval of California); =or, The Marauder of the Mines.= =.25= = " 55 * Mr. Meeson's Will.= By H. Rider Haggard. Twenty-four full-page illustrations. =.25=

=POLLARD & MOSS, Publishers, 42 Park Place, New York.=

THE CRIME OF CHANCE.

BY Miss Frances M. Peard,

Author of "The Rose Garden," "Unawares, or the Notary's Plot," "The Squire's Daughter, or the Mystery of Thorpe Regis," etc.

=One Volume, 12mo, paper cover,= =25 Cents.= =Bound in extra cloth, full gilt side and back,= =50 Cents.=

_EXTRACTS FROM PRESS NOTICES._

"The book is finely written, and exceptionally high in tone, and shows in the character of Rachel a keen sense of humor, which reminds the reader of some of George Eliot's earliest works."

"It is a story of sadness, love, and ultimate joy, and a thoroughly good one in its teaching, having the charm of novelty, freshness, and interest, that few novelists can impart. The 'Crime of Chance' belongs to the higher type. In some respects it presents not a bad imitation of the style and fidelity to nature of George Eliot."

"The characters are firmly, admirably drawn, and the story is one which must easily appeal to the sympathies of all readers of finer sensibilities. The two children, the hero, Rachel and Hestor, are painted with a brush handled with excellent judgment and skill."--_Traveller._

"The 'Crime of Chance' is one of those quiet stories of English country life that imperceptibly win upon the reader's regard, and finally leaves him thoroughly fascinated. It opens with a description of an old farm and its quaint inhabitants, and the impression they make on a little city boy who, having lost his parents, comes there to live with his uncle, Mr. Philip Oldfield. Philip Oldfield's sad history is the chief subject of the book. The remorse that weighs him down, his unhappy love and seemingly blighted life, are all brought gradually before the reader, in the most natural and unsensational manner, deeply moving his sympathies and interest. Some charming bits of nature are sketched in, rendering the work altogether a most readable and desirable one."

"The story is English, and has some account of poachers and gypsies, and uses a little waif from their resorts as an instrument in Philip's recovery. His character is studied psychologically in the vein and force Hawthorne showed in the 'Scarlet Letter,' and his posthumous novel. The description of life and scenery is pleasing, there is no straining after effect, and the tale has the merit of strong and absorbing interest in its perusal, and deserves nothing but the highest praise."

_The above work sent by mail, postage prepaid, to any part of the United States or Canada, on receipt of the price._

REALITIES OF IRISH LIFE.

BY W. STEUART TRENCH.

=One Volume, 12mo, paper cover, 25 Cents.= =Bound in extra cloth, full gilt side and back, 50 Cents.=

_EXTRACTS FROM PRESS NOTICES._

"These sketches of Irish life have attracted much attention and elicited the highest praise for their fidelity to nature, and the simplicity, pathos, and power by which they are marked. No recent work has appeared which so vividly presents the condition of Ireland, suffering under sore political and social grievances, and distracted by contending factions. The author has spent his life in intimate acquaintance with the Irish heart as it beats in the cabins of the poor, and while the stories he tells of Irish life illustrate sometimes that truth is stranger than fiction, the reader will find in them a spell of interest which fiction rarely possesses. We have not in a long time read aught that is more apt to moisten the eyes than the chapter devoted to the simple story of 'Mary Shea.'"--_Buffalo Courier._

"Many of the incidents herein narrated have already been published in one form or another, but never have they been more effectively related than here--the history of the Ribbon Code and some of the results of its system, the outrages perpetrated upon the landlords or their agents, are dramatically told, and while the faults of the Irish disposition are not concealed, their virtues are equally revealed, and show the genuine Irish heart, which is capable of so much that is noble. The book reads like a novel, full of exciting events and truthful characterization, and cannot fail to be read with interest by those to whom the question of the land tenure in Ireland has come to be regarded as one of the most serious which engages public attention."

"It is so written that the painful element of Irish life is not protruded, while there is no glossing of facts or extravagance of national pride. 'Manly' is the title that best describes its spirit, while its literary power, expressed without effort or consciousness, surpasses much of the work of thoroughly-trained skill. It would be well for Ireland if it had many more within its borders like Mr. Trench, for in that case it would avoid the neglect and selfishness that cause distress on the one hand, and the factious and unreasoning bitterness that result from it on the other."

"A strongly dramatic series of pictures, the scope of which is apparent in its title, being founded upon actual observation, and sure to hold the reader's rapt attention."

_The above work sent by mail, postage prepaid, to any part of the United States or Canada, on receipt of the price._

HAGGARD'S NEW BOOK.

THE ONLY ILLUSTRATED EDITION.

Mr. Meeson's Will.

by

WITH TWENTY-FOUR FULL-PAGE ILLUSTRATIONS, _Drawn Expressly for this Edition_,

By Philip G. Cusachs.

ONE VOLUME, 12mo, PAPER COVERS, 25 Cents.

COPYRIGHTED, 1888, BY POLLARD & MOSS.

The only Profusely Illustrated Edition of this Work in the Market.

SEND IN YOUR ORDERS AT ONCE, AND IN ORDERING NOTE THE EDITION No. 55, ECHO SERIES.

Address POLLARD & MOSS, Publishers, 42 Park Place and 37 Barclay Street, New York.

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=SOHMER & CO.=, MANUFACTURERS OF GRAND, SQUARE, AND UPRIGHT PIANO-FORTES WAREROOMS: 149, 151, 153, 155 EAST 14th ST., N.Y.

* * * * *

Transcriber's Notes:

Throughout this work many end-of-line hyphens, either omitted in printing or no longer visible, were assumed to be present and the corresponding word-halves rejoined, without further note.

Many punctuation marks that were mistyped in printing or unreadable have been changed, without further note.

Aide-de-camp and Aid-de-camp both used by the author, as are Amherstburgh and Amherstburg, along with Girty and Girtie.

It's and its used interchangeably by author; this usage retained.

Several compound and hyphenated words appear in varying form, for example "artillery men" and "artillerymen"; "bear skin" and "bear-skin"; "mid-day" and "midday"; etc. Usage retained.

Spelling, including possible typographical errors, has been retained as it appears in the original publication except as follows:

Page 009: Typo "lappel" changed to "lapel" (button of the lapel) Page 011: Typo "oppposite" changed to "opposite" (from the opposite extremity) Page 014: Typo "Graham" changed to "Grantham" (question, Mr. Grantham) Page 015: Typo "Molinex" changed to "Molineux" (Molineux, had so pained) Page 015: Duplicate "in" removed (as in the former) Page 016: Typo "ln" changed to "in" (confidence in his young) Page 018: Typo "aparent" changed to "apparent" (apparent a single shot) Page 021: Extra space in "young ladyyour niece" removed. Space may have indicated omitted comma Page 030: Typo "narrration" changed to "narration" (narration of the anecdote) Page 049: Punctuation after "coolly observed Grantham" unclear in the text Page 052: Typo "padler" changed to "paddler" (paddler, and prostrated) Page 053: Typo "he" changed to "the" (fortunate for the former) Page 056: Typo "unproarious" changed to "uproarious" (because his least uproarious, mood) Page 056: Typo "inbibed" changed to "imbibed" (imbibed enough of his favorite) Page 063: Usage of punctuation by author intentionally retained (asked Captain Molineux?) Page 064: Typo "coroborate" changed to "corroborate" (Villiers can corroborate) Page 074: Typo "Desboroug" changed to "Desborough" (Desborough, I continued) Page 075: Typo "no" changed to "do" (displeasure, "I do not) Page 076: Typo "momentry" changed to "momentary"(however momentary--a) Page 083: Typo "neice" changed to "niece" (his niece, the parties in) Page 084: Typo "were" changed to "where" (where the General still) Page 093: Typo "disposess" changed to "dispossess" (may dispossess of homage,) Page 094: Typo "anticipiatory" changed to "anticipatory" (so anticipatory of coming) Page 094: Typo "shrapnell" changed to "shrapnel" (with shrapnel and grape.) Page 098: Typo "idependently" changed to "independently" (mistaken, for, independently, of) Page 099: Typo "aparently" changed to "apparently" (apparently much greater) Page 100: Typo "mattrass" changed to "mattress" (mattress, lay the form) Page 105: Usage of punctuation by author intentionally retained (in the same breath?) Page 106: Typo "teminated" changed to "terminated" (where the river terminated) Page 106: Typo "depatched" changed to "despatched" (prisoners been despatched) Page 112: Typo "preceeded" changed to "proceeded" (proceeded, while her breathing) Page 112: Typo "inacessibility" changed to "inaccessibility" (wonted inaccessibility to impressions) Page 112: Typo "rediculous" changed to "ridiculous" (guilty of a ridiculous) Page 117: Typo "day" changed to "days" (A few days) Page 122: Typo "add" changed to "and" (from thence, and he) Page 123: Typo "litttle" changed to "little" (the little dependence) Page 123: Typo "asumed" changed to "assumed" (her voice assumed) Page 125: Typo "piqant" changed to "piquant" (piquant a seduction) Page 125: Typo "contibuted" changed to "contributed" (water--all contributed) Page 128: Typo "Manwhile" changed to "Meanwhile" (Meanwhile, although nothing) Page 130: Typo "grangway" changed to "gangway" (gangway, from which, however) Page 132: Typo "eaaliest" changed to "earliest" (One of the earliest) Page 136: Typo "Desborrough" changed to "Desborough" (for Desborough to avow) Page 143: Typo "posess" corrected to "possess" (property I possess) Page 144: Typo "ascessory" changed to "accessory" (some degree accessory) Page 157: Typo "onrselves" changed to "ourselves" (solemnly pledged ourselves) Page 158: Typo "she" changed to "he" ("Henry," he said) Page 164: Typo "wit" changed to "with" (fast quitting, with) Page 164: Typo "oject" changed to "object" (siege. The object) Page 164: Typo "situate" changed to "situated" (the Americans situated) Page 166: Typo "morover" changed to "moreover" (He had moreover) Page 167: Typo "prsceed" changed to "proceed" (the latter to proceed) Page 168: Typo "alloted" changed to "allotted" (to the task allotted) Page 171: Omitted word "a" changed to "was a man" Page 172: Typo "dis" changed to "his" (Gentlemen," addressing his) Page 173: Typo "Kildeer" changed to "Killdeer" (Killdeer I confess) Page 174: Typo "since" changed to "Since" (Gerald said, "Since) Page 174: Typo "your" changed to "you" (to know, but you) Page 177: Duplicate "what" removed (snivelling, as "what) Page 178: Typo "accelarated" changed to "accelerated" (vain, as to any accelerated) Page 179: Typo "prssive" changed to "passive" (passive assent to the) Page 181: Typo "posssible" changed to "possible" (possible to himself,) Page 184: Typo "deperate" changed to "desperate" (desperate grudge--the) Page 185: Typo "grapling" changed to "grappling" (his enemy grappling) Page 186: Typo "resistence" changed to "resistance" (the power of resistance) Page 186: Typo "trottled" changed to "throttled" (throttled, maddened with pain) Page 186: Typo "uncontrolable" changed to "uncontrollable" (uncontrollable, until his anxiety) Page 186: Typo "assassssin" changed to "assassin" (assassin-like in the) Page 187: Typo "beqind" changed to "behind" (behind his back,) Page 192: Typo "indistnct" changed to "indistinct" (indistinct outline, which) Page 192: Typo "exhibted" changed to "exhibited" (who thus exhibited) Page 193: Typo "Gereld" changed to "Gerald" (noise made by Gerald) Page 194: Typo "aentence" changed to "sentence" (uttered the last sentence) Page 197: Typo "fierceet" changed to "fiercest" (arm you with the fiercest) Page 201: Duplicate word "an" removed (an hour too advanced) Page 203: Typo "admited" changed to "admitted" (admitted as an excuse) Page 204: Typo "coo" changed to "cool" (myself to a cool) Page 208: Typo "faught" changed to "fought" (fought with determined bravery,) Page 218: Typo "acuse" changed to "accuse" (to accuse the woman) Page 219: Typo "Tenessee" changed to "Tennessee"; although "Tenessee" is an historical spelling variation, author uses modern spelling in all other instances. (Tennessee man, bred and born,) Page 220: Typo "prefering" changed to "preferring" (this comes of preferring) Page 220: Typo "Fankfort" changed to "Frankfort" (Frankfort--before sunrise!") Page 220: Typo "fight" changed to "flight" (very fact of my flight) Page 221: Typo "massage" changed to "message" (with this parting message,) Page 222: Typo "Queenstown" changed to "Queenston" (stationed at Queenston) Page 224: Typo "Bt" changed to "But" (But oh, Henry!) Page 226: Typo "efferts" changed to "efforts" (by his previous efforts) Page 227: Address at bottom of "47 4th Avenue changed to "74 4th Avenue"; this matches usage in a previous paragraph, and 19th century news articles. Page 235: Typo "Fortune" changed to "Fortuné" (Fortune Du Boisgobey)

End of Project Gutenberg's Matilda Montgomerie, by Major (John) Richardson