last wish of a dyin man.” The officer gave a sign with his hand, and the rope was untied. “Prisoner, are you ready?” “Yes, kurnel.” Turning to the firing party, the officer gave the successive orders--make ready,--present,--fire! Hardly had the last word been uttered, than the prisoner, with surprising agility, gave a backward leap into the river, and the volley swept over where he stood, the bullets ricochetting on the surface of the river behind. “The Yankee scoundrel! Has he escaped? Ten pounds for him alive or dead!” shouted the officer. There was a rush to the edge of the wharf, and the soldiers fired at random amid its posts, but the American was not to be seen. “It is impossible for him to escape,” the captain said to Morton, who had come to aid in the search. “He would have been hung had we had a gallows handy, and if he has escaped the bullet it is only to be drowned, for the river runs here like a mill-race and will carry him into the rapids.” The soldiers jumped on the boats and scanned wharf and shore, and seeing no trace came to the conclusion that from his backward leap he had been unable to recover himself and did not rise to the surface. Satisfied the man was drowned, the soldiers were ordered back to the guard-room and the stir and hurry in getting the flotilla ready were resumed. Soon afterwards Morton was seated at the mess-table, which was crowded, for there were detachments of two regiments on their way from Quebec, where they had landed the week before, to Upper Canada. The company was a jovial one, composed of veteran campaigners who had learned to make the most of life’s pleasures when they could be snatched, and joke and story kept the table in a roar for a couple of hours, when the colonel’s servant whispered something in his ear. “Comrades,” he said, rising, “I am informed the boats are ready. The best of friends must part when duty calls, and the hour we have spent this evening is a pleasant oasis in our long and toilsome journey through this wilderness. We do not know what difficulties we may have to encounter, but we who braved the sun of India and stormed the Pyrenees will not falter before the obstacles Canadian flood and forest may present, and will carry the flag of our country to victory, as we have so often done under our glorious chief, Wellington. We come to cross swords not for conquest but to repel those invaders, who, professing to be the champions of liberty, seek to bolster the falling cause of the tyrant of Europe by endeavoring to create a diversion in his favor on this western continent. We shall drive the boasters back, or else will leave our bones to be bleached by Canadian snows; and we shall do more, we shall vindicate the independence of this vast country against the ingrates who smite, in the hour of trial, the mother that reared them, and shall preserve Canada to be the home of untold millions who will perpetuate on the banks of these great rivers and lakes the