The head of the column had reached the water’s edge, when there was a burst of cheering. “That’s our lads,” said the Colonel, “they must have won the day. Halt! We will not seek to share the credit of their victory.” In a few minutes a body of the Fencibles reappeared, with several prisoners and bearing a few wounded men. Their report was that they had encountered the advance guard of the American brigade, which, although elated at the rout of the outpost of habitants, fled at the first fire. The Colonel ordered the men to retire and wait behind the breastworks that commanded the ford. “It is not likely,” he remarked to his adjutant, “that the Americans will now attack us, seeing their design to surprise us has miscarried.” Half an hour later, Hemlock arrived with his braves, at whose girdles hung several fresh scalps. He told Macdonell that the Americans had given up their intention of gaining the ford and had gone into camp nearly two miles above, in a grove beside the river. Seeing how slight was the prospect of more fighting on that side of the river, he was going to join the main-body. On hearing this reassuring news, Maggie slipped away to her canoe and paddled homewards. On coming in sight of the shanty she was amazed and alarmed by the change that had taken place in her short absence. American soldiers were clustered around it, and a few horses picketed. Fearing the worst, she drew near. Seated by the fire were several officers warming themselves and drying their clothes, and with whom her mother was in altercation. “Come to free us, say ye? What wad ye free us frae?” “From the tyranny of European monarchy,” answered an officer with a smile. “It maun be a licht yoke that we never felt. Mak us free, dootless, like that blackamoor servant that’s cooking yer breakfast.” “Waal, no,” said another officer, “yer a furriner, ye know, but yer white.” “A foreigner!” exclaimed Mrs Forsyth, “hae I lived to be ca’ed in my ain house, a foreigner! I belang to nae sic trash. Manners maun be scarce whaur you come frae, my man.” “That’s all right, old woman; the old man will understand how it is. We have come to make you independent.” “Auld man! Auld woman! God forgie you for haein’ nae respeck for grey hairs. My guid man, sir, taks nae stock in ye or your fine words. Nicht and mornin’ does he pray for King George an’ that his throne may be preserved. You’re a set o’ land-loupers, wha hae nae business here an’ its my howp afore nicht you may be fleein’ back to whaur ye cam frae.” “Canada folk are not all like you.” “Ay, that they are. There’s no an’ Auld Country family from here to the Basin that winna gie you the back o’ their hand, an’ no ane that wadna suner lose a’ than come unner yer rule.” Afraid that further controversy might result unpleasantly, Maggie left her attitude of listening outside the door and entered. One or two of the younger officers rose and bowed; the others stared.