Alas! my noble boy, that thou shouldst die! Thou wert made so beautifully fair! That death should settle in that glorious eye, And leave his stillness in that clustering hair. Willis. Cursed be my tribe If I forgive him. Shylock. We must now use an author’s privilege and transport the reader to a lofty room in a spacious mansion attached to a fortress. It was far more commodious and gorgeously furnished than might have been looked for in such an isolated spot, though it was now silent and imperfectly lighted by a single wax-taper. The air was fraught with the fine exotics adorning the flower-stands, and the light, dim as it was, fell upon a hundred objects of splendid luxury. The solitary occupant of this apartment had the air of one accustomed to action, and yet not a stranger to habits of thought. He was of no more than middle height, but in his air and gesture there was a tone of decision and command which no advantage of stature could bestow. The features were graceful, the color, that which exposure to the air increases in a skin originally soft and fresh. There was altogether a military appearance in the full and fiery eye which plainly showed the character of his adventurous life. General Lincoln had been sent by the government of England to occupy a fortress on the borders of Canada. Whatever might be the stern peculiarities of his disposition, he was a man well calculated for the important trust reposed in him--for, combining experience with judgment in all matters relating to diplomacy, and being fully conversant with the character and habits of both Indians and settlers, he possessed singular aptitude to seize whatever advantages might present themselves. His policy was to conciliate the adjacent tribes of savages, and through them to destroy the few colonial settlements yet formed. His first object was now in the full tide of successful accomplishment, and when it should be fully ripe, the last would naturally follow. It was midnight, and General Lincoln was pacing the floor of his luxurious apartment, seemingly insensible of the downy softness of the rich carpets under his feet, or the glitter of the splendid lustres over his head. At length, as he turned at the extreme end of the room, his eyes fell on the frame of a large painting, and for some minutes they were riveted to the picture it contained as by a master-spell. It was a portrait--a full-length portrait representing a female at the climax of youthful loveliness, with a charming infant boy resting upon her knees. Well did the gazer remember how fondly he had assisted in keeping the child quiet during the tedious task of sitting, by holding before his little laughing eyes the very toy now figuring in the hands of the mother in the picture before him.