leaped into his canoe, sent it swiftly across the stream, ran up the opposite bank, and disappeared in the woods, before they had recovered from their confusion, or thought of having recourse to their rifles to stop him. “Slipped through our fingers and gone!” said the sheriff, with an air of chagrin and disappointment. “Yes, for this onset,” said Codman, the next to volunteer remarks in the provoking nonplus in which they now all found themselves. “Yes, but I should like mightily to know how he got wind of our movements? If the devil didn’t tell him, I don’t think he done as well by his friend as he ought.” “Perhaps,” rejoined the sheriff, after the laugh of some and the approving glances of others, which had followed the characteristic remark of the trapper, had passed away,--“perhaps he, or some of his family, caught a glimpse of these scouts round their clearing during the day; or perhaps he has an accomplice, or tool, whom he had engaged to watch public movements, and bring him word.” “I have thought of some such thing, myself,” remarked Phillips. “In the case of his robbing our camp, last fall, I felt quite confident he must have had some accomplice, or some secret agent, to take off the furs for him. If he has such an one now, I think it must be a Jesuit priest, as I have heard that such a looking personage has, once or twice, been seen at Gaut’s house since he moved into the settlement.” “Well, if the villain has such a character as that in tow, he would be devil enough for all common purposes,” responded the sheriff. “But, however all that may be, I fear he has struck a line for Canada, and this is the last we shall ever see of him in this country.” “Not for Canada,” confidently said the hunter; “for I know enough about him to make me feel quite sure that he will never again trust his head within reach of British authority.” “Ah!” exclaimed the sheriff, “what is it you know?” “I think it had better not be told just yet,” answered the other, decisively. “Let us first see whether he can’t be caught and hung here, for his last crying offence.” “But do you think he can yet be overtaken, and arrested?” asked the former. “Certainly I do,” returned the hunter, with earnest confidence. “He must, and _shall_, be taken! God’s curse is on the man; and he will never, I tell you, _never_ be suffered to escape us.” “Well, then,” resumed the sheriff, thoughtfully, “what course do you think he will take, and where secrete himself, so that he can be found? I, on my part, stand ready to do every thing in my power to bring the miscreant, of whose guilt I think there can now be but little doubt, to immediate justice. Now, as you are said to be a man of observation and energy, Mr. Phillips, let us have the benefit of your opinion and advice in the matter.”