Spring came, and there was some skirmishing on Lake Ontario. Erie was entirely in American hands. But on land there were only a few raids by the Americans, who had a new general, Winfield Scott, who was carefully training the army with which he meant to take Upper Canada that summer. If he did not, he well knew Canada would not be taken at all, for England was making peace with France. Earnestly Canadians were praying that peace might be made with the United States also, though they were as ready as ever to fight if the American flag should again be carried across their border by armed men. A breathless June evening Bee stood alone in Betty's garden, thinking that July was very near, and feeling desperately afraid. Betty had spoken to her very decidedly--"Of course you will marry Vere in three weeks." To herself she said, "The boy is steady enough now, and this wretched business of Ned Edgar's refusing to take back his shameful lie that Vere never gave him the letter, makes it all the more necessary that we should stand by him." Alone in the hot June dusk Bee shivered. She was too young and too affectionate to be able to defy Sir John and Betty, and as she helplessly prayed for some one who could advise her, a man who walked noiselessly as an Indian, came beside her, and she held out her hands to him with a little cry of joy. "Papa Edgar; you have escaped! But you are so thin!" "Prisons aren't palaces," said Edgar indifferently, "In the winter there was no fire and in the summer no air, below decks, where we were. We lay on the bare planking. But down in Montreal harbour, our prisoners were on similar other prison hulks so I had nothing to complain of--it was the fortune of war. At last Tahata came one night and helped me to escape." Edgar bore his enemies no grudge for his rough prison--he lived in a rough age--it was really the memory of Ned that had aged him, and he tried fiercely to stop Bee when she mentioned his name. He still thought him with Sells the deserter. But the girl insisted on telling him all, and the light of her faith in his son kindled hope in his heart again. Ned might be, nay, must be, soon proved innocent. Then another thought made him exclaim, "But you must not marry this villain, child." "You will help me not to, sir," said Bee confidently as she clung to him, and Edgar frowned to himself. He was on duty, scouting with his Indians, and he had snatched only a moment to speak to his one-time ward. He knew he was helpless to aid her; he could not possibly take her from the Haslems. Then among the bushes he saw the dark face of Kawque the scout. Kawque was to stay at St. Davids, and used to quick thinking and daring action, Edgar spoke reassuring farewell as on sudden impulse he went to the Indian.