"With all my soul do I disclaim the wrong I have done him," was the emphatic and generous rejoinder. "He is, indeed, a spirited youth; and well worthy of the favorable report which led me to entrust him with the command—moreover he has an easy grace of carriage which pleased and interested me in his favor, when I first saw him. Even now, observe how courteously he bends himself to the ear of his female prisoner, as if to encourage her with words of assurance, that she may sustain the presence and yells of these clamorous beings."

The boat had now reached the beach, but the difficulty of effecting a passage, through the band of wild Indians that crowded, yelling, in every direction, to take a nearer view of the prisoners, would, perhaps, have proved insurmountable, had it not been for the interference of one who alone possessed the secret of restraining their lawlessness. Tecumseh had descended to the beach, eager to be the first to congratulate his young friend. He pressed the hand promptly extended to receive his, and then, at a single word, made those give way whose presence impeded the landing of the party.

Pursuing their way up the rude steps by which Lieutenant Raymond had previously descended, the little band of prisoners soon stood in the presence of the group assembled to receive them. On alighting from the boat, the youthful captor had been seen to make the tender of his uninjured arm to the lady, who, however, had rejected it, with a movement, seemingly of indignant surprise, clinging in the same moment to her more elderly companion. A titter among the younger officers, at Gerald Grantham's expense had followed this rejection of his proffered arm.

The young sailor was the first to gain the summit of the bank. Respectfully touching his hat, and pointing to the captives, who followed a few paces in his rear:

"General—Commodore," he observed, his cheek flushing with a consciousness of the gratifying position in which he stood, "I have the honor to present to you the first fruits of your good fortune. This gentleman," pointing to the elder officer, "is the commander of the party, and the lady I believe is——"

"Certainly a non-combatant on this occasion," interrupted the General, raising his plumed hat, and bowing to the party alluded to; "Gentlemen," he pursued, addressing the two officers, "I am sorry we do not meet exactly on the terms to which we have so long been accustomed; but, although the fortune of war has made you rather unwilling guests in the present instance, the rites of hospitality shall not be the less observed. But Mr. Grantham, you have forgotten to introduce these officers by name."

"I plead guilty, General, but the truth is I have neglected to make the inquiry myself."

"Major Montgomerie, sir, of the United States Infantry," interposed the elderly officer, completely set at his ease by the affable and attentive manner of the British leader. "This young lady is my niece."

Again the general slightly, but courteously, bowed. "I will not, Major Montgomerie, pay you the ill timed compliment of expressing pleasure in seeing you on an occasion like the present, since we must unquestionably consider you a prisoner of war; but if the young lady your niece, has any desire to continue her journey to Detroit, I shall feel pleasure in forwarding her thither under a flag of truce."