Chapter: "Then go we in, to know his embassy;
  Which I could, with ready guess, declare,
  Before the Frenchman speak a word of it."

  _King Henry V._


A few succeeding days were passed amid the privations, the uproar, and
the dangers of the siege, which was vigorously pressed by a power
against whose approaches Munro possessed no competent means of
resistance. It appeared as if Webb, with his army, which lay slumbering
on the banks of the Hudson, had utterly forgotten the strait to which
his countrymen were reduced. Montcalm had filled the woods of the
portage with his savages, every yell and whoop from whom rang through
the British encampment, chilling the hearts of men who were already but
too much disposed to magnify the danger.

Not so, however, with the besieged. Animated by the words, and
stimulated by the examples, of their leaders, they had found their
courage, and maintained their ancient reputation, with zeal that did
justice to the stern character of their commander. As if satisfied with
the toil of marching through the wilderness to encounter his enemy, the
French general, though of approved skill, had neglected to seize the
adjacent mountains; whence the besieged might have been exterminated
with impunity, and which, in the more modern warfare of the country,
would not have been neglected for a single hour. This sort of contempt
for eminences, or rather dread of the labor of ascending them, might
have been termed the besetting weakness of the warfare of the period. It
originated in the simplicity of the Indian contests, in which, from the
nature of the combats, and the density of the forests, fortresses were
rare, and artillery next to useless. The carelessness engendered by
these usages descended even to the war of the Revolution, and lost the
States the important fortress of Ticonderoga, opening a way for the army
of Burgoyne into what was then the bosom of the country. We look back at
this ignorance, or infatuation, whichever it may be called, with wonder,
knowing that the neglect of an eminence, whose difficulties, like those
of Mount Defiance, have been so greatly exaggerated, would, at the
present time, prove fatal to the reputation of the engineer who had
planned the works at their base, or to that of the general whose lot it
was to defend them.

The tourist, the valetudinarian, or the amateur of the beauties of
nature, who, in the train of his four-in-hand, now rolls through the
scenes we have attempted to describe, in quest of information, health,
or pleasure, or floats steadily towards his object on those artificial
waters which have sprung up under the administration of a statesman[21]
who has dared to stake his political character on the hazardous issue,
is not to suppose that his ancestors traversed those hills, or struggled
with the same currents with equal facility. The transportation of a
single heavy gun was often considered equal to a victory gained; if,
happily, the difficulties of the passage had not so far separated it
from its necessary concomitant, the ammunition, as to render it no more
than an useless tube of unwieldy iron.

The evils of this state of things pressed heavily on the fortunes of the
resolute Scotsman who now defended William Henry. Though his adversary
neglected the hills, he had planted his batteries with judgment on the
plain, and caused them to be served with vigor and skill. Against this
assault, the besieged could only oppose the imperfect and hasty
preparations of a fortress in the wilderness.

It was in the afternoon of the fifth day of the siege, and the fourth of
his own service in it, that Major Heyward profited by a parley that had
just been beaten, by repairing to the ramparts of one of the water
bastions, to breathe the cool air from the lake, and to take a survey of
the progress of the siege. He was alone, if the solitary sentinel who
paced the mound be excepted; for the artillerists had hastened also to
profit by the temporary suspension of their arduous duties. The evening
was delightfully calm, and the light air from the limpid water fresh and
soothing. It seemed as if, with the termination to the roar of artillery
and the plunging of shot, nature had also seized the moment to assume
her mildest and most captivating form. The sun poured down his parting
glory on the scene, without the oppression of those fierce rays that
belong to the climate and the season. The mountains looked green and
fresh and lovely; tempered with the milder light, or softened in shadow,
as thin vapors floated between them and the sun. The numerous islands
rested on the bosom of the Horican, some low and sunken, as if imbedded
in the waters, and others appearing to hover above the element, in
little hillocks of green velvet; among which the fishermen of the
beleaguering army peacefully rowed their skiffs, or floated at rest on
the glassy mirror, in quiet pursuit of their employment.

The scene was at once animated and still. All that pertained to nature
was sweet, or simply grand; while those parts which depended on the
temper and movements of man were lively and playful.

Two little spotless flags were abroad, the one on a salient angle of the
fort, and the other on the advanced battery of the besiegers; emblems of
the truce which existed, not only to the acts, but it would seem, also,
to the enmity of the combatants.

Behind these, again, swung, heavily opening and closing in silken folds,
the rival standards of England and France.

A hundred gay and thoughtless young Frenchmen were drawing a net to the
pebbly beach, within dangerous proximity to the sullen but silent cannon
of the fort, while the eastern mountain was sending back the loud shouts
and gay merriment that attended their sport. Some were rushing eagerly
to enjoy the aquatic games of the lake, and others were already toiling
their way up the neighboring hills, with the restless curiosity of their
nation. To all these sports and pursuits, those of the enemy who watched
the besieged, and the besieged themselves, were, however, merely the
idle, though sympathizing spectators. Here and there a picket had,
indeed, raised a song, or mingled in a dance, which had drawn the dusky
savages around them, from their lairs in the forest. In short,
everything wore rather the appearance of a day of pleasure, than of an
hour stolen from the dangers and toil of a bloody and vindictive
warfare.

Duncan had stood in a musing attitude, contemplating this scene a few
minutes, when his eyes were directed to the glacis in front of the
sally-port already mentioned, by the sounds of approaching footsteps. He
walked to an angle of the bastion, and beheld the scout advancing, under
the custody of a French officer, to the body of the fort. The
countenance of Hawkeye was haggard and careworn, and his air dejected,
as though he felt the deepest degradation at having fallen into the
power of his enemies. He was without his favorite weapon, and his arms
were even bound behind him with thongs, made of the skin of a deer. The
arrival of flags, to cover the messengers of summons, had occurred so
often of late, that when Heyward first threw his careless glance on this
group, he expected to see another of the officers of the enemy, charged
with a similar office; but the instant he recognized the tall person,
and still sturdy, though downcast features of his friend the woodsman,
he started with surprise, and turned to descend from the bastion into
the bosom of the work.

The sounds of other voices, however, caught his attention, and for a
moment caused him to forget his purpose. At the inner angle of the mound
he met the sisters, walking along the parapet in search, like himself,
of air and relief from confinement. They had not met from that painful
moment when he deserted them on the plain, only to assure their safety.
He had parted from them worn with care, and jaded with fatigue; he now
saw them refreshed and blooming, though timid and anxious. Under such an
inducement, it will cause no surprise that the young man lost sight, for
a time, of other objects in order to address them. He was, however,
anticipated by the voice of the ingenuous and youthful Alice.

"Ah! thou truant! thou recreant knight! he who abandons his damsels in
the very lists!" she cried; "here have we been days, nay, ages,
expecting you at our feet, imploring mercy and forgetfulness of your
craven backsliding, or, I should rather say, back-running--for verily
you fled in a manner that no stricken deer, as our worthy friend the
scout would say, could equal!"

"You know that Alice means our thanks and our blessings," added the
graver and more thoughtful Cora. "In truth, we have a little wondered
why you should so rigidly absent yourself from a place where the
gratitude of the daughters might receive the support of a parent's
thanks."

"Your father himself could tell you, that though absent from your
presence, I have not been altogether forgetful of your safety," returned
the young man; "the mastery of yonder village of huts," pointing to the
neighboring entrenched camp, "has been keenly disputed; and he who holds
it is sure to be possessed of this fort, and that which it contains. My
days and my nights have all been passed there since we separated,
because I thought that duty called me thither. But," he added with an
air of chagrin, which he endeavored, though unsuccessfully, to conceal,
"had I been aware that what I then believed a soldier's conduct could so
be construed, shame would have been added to the list of reasons."

"Heyward!--Duncan!" exclaimed Alice, bending forward to read his
half-averted countenance, until a lock of her golden hair rested on her
flushed cheek, and nearly concealed the tear that had started to her
eye; "did I think this idle tongue of mine had pained you, I would
silence it forever, Cora can say, if Cora would, how justly we have
prized your services, and how deep--I had almost said, how fervent--is
our gratitude."

"And will Cora attest the truth of this?" cried Duncan, suffering the
cloud to be chased from his countenance by a smile of open pleasure.
"What says our graver sister? Will she find an excuse for the neglect of
the knight in the duty of a soldier?"

Cora made no immediate answer, but turned her face towards the water, as
if looking on the sheet of the Horican. When she did bend her dark eyes
on the young man, they were yet filled with an expression of anguish
that at once drove every thought but that of kind solicitude from his
mind.

"You are not well, dearest Miss Munro!" he exclaimed; "we have trifled
while you are in suffering."

"'Tis nothing," she answered, refusing his offered support with feminine
reserve. "That I cannot see the sunny side of the picture of life, like
this artless but ardent enthusiast," she added, laying her hand lightly,
but affectionately, on the arm of her sister, "is the penalty of
experience, and, perhaps, the misfortune of my nature. See," she
continued, as if determined to shake off infirmity, in a sense of duty;
"look around you, Major Heyward, and tell me what a prospect is this for
the daughter of a soldier whose greatest happiness is his honor and his
military renown."

"Neither ought nor shall be tarnished by circumstances over which he has
had no control," Duncan warmly replied. "But your words recall me to my
own duty. I go now to your gallant father, to hear his determination in
matters of the last moment to the defence. God bless you in every
fortune, noble--Cora--I may and must call you." She frankly gave him her
hand, though her lip quivered, and her cheeks gradually became of an
ashy paleness. "In every fortune, I know you will be an ornament and
honor to your sex. Alice, adieu"--his tone changed from admiration to
tenderness--"adieu, Alice; we shall soon meet again; as conquerors, I
trust, and amid rejoicings!"

Without waiting for an answer from either, the young man threw himself
down the grassy steps of the bastion, and moving rapidly across the
parade, he was quickly in the presence of their father. Munro was
pacing his narrow apartment with a disturbed air and gigantic strides as
Duncan entered.

"You have anticipated my wishes, Major Heyward," he said; "I was about
to request this favor."

"I am sorry to see, sir, that the messenger I so warmly recommended has
returned in custody of the French! I hope there is no reason to distrust
his fidelity?"

"The fidelity of 'The Long Rifle' is well known to me," returned Munro,
"and is above suspicion; though his usual good fortune seems, at last,
to have failed. Montcalm has got him, and with the accursed politeness
of his nation, he has sent him in with a doleful tale, of 'knowing how I
valued the fellow, he could not think of retaining him.' A Jesuitical
way, that, Major Duncan Heyward, of telling a man of his misfortunes!"

"But the general and his succor?"

"Did ye look to the south as ye entered, and could ye not see them?"
said the old soldier, laughing bitterly. "Hoot! hoot! you're an
impatient boy, sir, and cannot give the gentlemen leisure for their
march!"

"They are coming, then? The scout has said as much?"

"When? and by what path? for the dunce has omitted to tell me this.
There is a letter, it would seem, too; and that is the only agreeable
part of the matter. For the customary attentions of your Marquis of
Montcalm--I warrant me, Duncan, that he of Lothian would buy a dozen
such marquisates--but, if the news of the letter were bad, the gentility
of this French monsieur would certainly compel him to let us know it."

"He keeps the letter, then, while he releases the messenger!"

"Ay, that does he, and all for the sake of what you call your
'_bonhommie_,' I would venture, if the truth was known, the fellow's
grandfather taught the noble science of dancing."

"But what says the scout? he has eyes and ears, and a tongue: what
verbal report does he make?"

"O! sir, he is not wanting in natural organs, and he is free to tell all
that he has seen and heard. The whole amount is this: there is a fort of
his majesty's on the banks of the Hudson, called Edward, in honor of his
gracious highness of York, you'll know; and it is well filled with armed
men, as such a work should be."

"But was there no movement, no signs of any intention to advance to our
relief?"

"There were the morning and evening parades; and when one of the
provincial loons--you'll know, Duncan, you're half a Scotsman
yourself--when one of them dropped his powder over his porretch, if it
touched the coals, it just burnt!" Then suddenly changing his bitter,
ironical manner, to one more grave and thoughtful, he continued; "and
yet there might, and must be, something in that letter which it would be
well to know!"

"Our decision should be speedy," said Duncan, gladly availing himself of
this change of humor, to press the more important objects of their
interview; "I cannot conceal from you, sir, that the camp will not be
much longer tenable; and I am sorry to add, that things appear no better
in the fort; more than half the guns are bursted."

"And how should it be otherwise? Some were fished from the bottom of the
lake; some have been rusting in the woods since the discovery of the
country; and some were never guns at all--mere privateersmen's
playthings! Do you think, sir, you can have Woolwich Warren in the midst
of a wilderness, three thousand miles from Great Britain!"

"The walls are crumbling about our ears, and provisions begin to fail
us," continued Heyward, without regarding this new burst of indignation;
"even the men show signs of discontent and alarm."

"Major Heyward," said Munro, turning to his youthful associate with the
dignity of his years and superior rank; "I should have served his
majesty for half a century, and earned these gray hairs, in vain, were I
ignorant of all you say, and of the pressing nature of our
circumstances; still, there is everything due to the honor of the king's
arms and something to ourselves. While there is hope of succor, this
fortress will I defend, though it be to be done with pebbles gathered on
the lake shore. It is a sight of the letter, therefore, that we want,
that we may know the intentions of the man the Earl of Loudon has left
among us as his substitute."

"And can I be of service in the matter?"

"Sir, you can; the Marquis of Montcalm has, in addition to his other
civilities, invited me to a personal interview between the works and his
own camp; in order, as he says, to impart some additional information.
Now, I think it would not be wise to show any undue solicitude to meet
him, and I would employ you, an officer of rank, as my substitute; for
it would but ill comport with the honor of Scotland to let it be said
one of her gentlemen was outdone in civility by a native of any other
country on earth."

Without assuming the supererogatory task of entering into a discussion
of the comparative merits of national courtesy, Duncan cheerfully
assented to supply the place of the veteran in the approaching
interview. A long and confidential communication now succeeded, during
which the young man received some additional insight into his duty, from
the experience and native acuteness of his commander, and then the
former took his leave.

As Duncan could only act as the representative of the commandant of the
fort, the ceremonies which should have accompanied a meeting between the
heads of the adverse forces were of course dispensed with. The truce
still existed, and with a roll and beat of the drum, and covered by a
little white flag, Duncan left the sally-port, within ten minutes after
his instructions were ended. He was received by the French officer in
advance with the usual formalities, and immediately accompanied to a
distant marquee of the renowned soldier who led the forces of France.

The general of the enemy received the youthful messenger, surrounded by
his principal officers, and by a swarthy band of the native chiefs, who
had followed him to the field, with the warriors of their several
tribes. Heyward paused short, when, in glancing his eyes rapidly over
the dark group of the latter, he beheld the malignant countenance of
Magua, regarding him with the calm but sullen attention which marked the
expression of that subtle savage. A slight exclamation of surprise even
burst from the lips of the young man; but instantly recollecting his
errand, and the presence in which he stood, he suppressed every
appearance of emotion, and turned to the hostile leader, who had already
advanced a step to receive him.

The Marquis of Montcalm was, at the period of which we write, in the
flower of his age, and, it may be added, in the zenith of his fortunes.
But, even in that enviable situation, he was affable, and distinguished
as much for his attention to the forms of courtesy, as for that
chivalrous courage which, only two short years afterwards, induced him
to throw away his life on the plains of Abraham. Duncan, in turning his
eyes from the malign expression of Magua, suffered them to rest with
pleasure on the smiling and polished features, and the noble military
air, of the French general.

"Monsieur," said the latter, "j'ai beaucoup de plaisir a--bah!--ou est
cet interprete?"

"Je crois, monsieur, qu'il ne sera pas necessaire," Heyward modestly
replied; "je parle un peu Francais."

"Ah! j'en suis bien aise," said Montcalm, taking Duncan familiarly by
the arm, and leading him deep into the marquee, a little out of
ear-shot; "je deteste ces fripons-la; on ne sait jamais sur quel pie on
est avec eux. Eh, bien! monsieur," he continued, still speaking in
French; "though I should have been proud of receiving your commandant, I
am very happy that he has seen proper to employ an officer so
distinguished, and who, I am sure, is so amiable, as yourself."

Duncan bowed low, pleased with the compliment, in spite of a most heroic
determination to suffer no artifice to allure him into forgetfulness of
the interest of his prince; and Montcalm, after a pause of a moment, as
if to recollect his thoughts, proceeded,--

"Your commandant is a brave man, and well qualified to repel my assault.
Mais, monsieur, is it not time to begin to take more counsel of
humanity, and less of your courage? The one as strongly characterizes
the hero as the other."

"We consider the qualities as inseparable," returned Duncan, smiling;
"but while we find in the vigor of your excellency every motive to
stimulate the one, we can, as yet, see no particular call for the
exercise of the other."

Montcalm, in his turn, slightly bowed, but it was with the air of a man
too practised to remember the language of flattery. After musing a
moment, he added,--

"It is possible my glasses have deceived me, and that your works resist
our cannon better than I had supposed. You know our force?"

"Our accounts vary," said Duncan, carelessly; "the highest, however, has
not exceeded twenty thousand men."

The Frenchman bit his lip, and fastened his eyes keenly on the other as
if to read his thoughts; then, with a readiness peculiar to himself, he
continued, as if assenting to the truth of an enumeration which quite
doubled his army,--

"It is a poor compliment to the vigilance of us soldiers, monsieur,
that, do what we will, we never can conceal our numbers. If it were to
be done at all, one would believe it might succeed in these woods.
Though you think it too soon to listen to the calls of humanity," he
added, smiling archly, "I may be permitted to believe that gallantry is
not forgotten by one so young as yourself. The daughters of the
commandant, I learn, have passed into the fort since it was invested?"

"It is true, monsieur; but, so far from weakening our efforts, they set
us an example of courage in their own fortitude. Were nothing but
resolution necessary to repel so accomplished a soldier as M. de
Montcalm, I would gladly trust the defence of William Henry to the elder
of those ladies."

"We have a wise ordinance in our Salique laws, which says, 'The crown of
France shall never degrade the lance to the distaff,'" said Montcalm,
dryly, and with a little hauteur; but instantly adding, with his former
frank and easy air, "as all the nobler qualities are hereditary, I can
easily credit you; though, as I said before, courage has its limits, and
humanity must not be forgotten. I trust, monsieur, you come authorized
to treat for the surrender of the place?"

"Has your excellency found our defence so feeble as to believe the
measure necessary?"

"I should be sorry to have the defence protracted in such a manner as to
irritate my red friends there," continued Montcalm, glancing his eyes at
the group of grave and attentive Indians, without attending to the
other's question; "I find it difficult, even now, to limit them to the
usages of war."

Heyward was silent; for a painful recollection of the dangers he had so
recently escaped came over his mind, and recalled the images of those
defenceless beings who had shared in all his sufferings.

"Ces messieurs-la," said Montcalm, following up the advantage which he
conceived he had gained, "are most formidable when baffled: and it is
unnecessary to tell you with what difficulty they are restrained in
their anger. Eh bien, monsieur! shall we speak of the terms?"

"I fear your excellency has been deceived as to the strength of William
Henry, and the resources of its garrison!"

"I have not sat down before Quebec, but an earthen work, that is
defended by twenty-three hundred gallant men," was the laconic reply.

"Our mounds are earthen, certainly--nor are they seated on the rocks of
Cape Diamond; but they stand on that shore which proved so destructive
to Dieskau and his army. There is also a powerful force within a few
hours' march of us, which we account upon as part of our means."

"Some six or eight thousand men," returned Montcalm, with much apparent
indifference, "whom their leader wisely judges to be safer in their
works than in the field."

It was now Heyward's turn to bite his lip with vexation, as the other so
coolly alluded to a force which the young man knew to be overrated. Both
mused a little while in silence, when Montcalm renewed the conversation,
in a way that showed he believed the visit of his guest was solely to
propose terms of capitulation. On the other hand, Heyward began to throw
sundry inducements in the way of the French general, to betray the
discoveries he had made through the intercepted letter. The artifice of
neither, however, succeeded; and after a protracted and fruitless
interview, Duncan took his leave, favorably impressed with an opinion of
the courtesy and talents of the enemy's captain, but as ignorant of what
he came to learn as when he arrived. Montcalm followed him as far as the
entrance of the marquee, renewing his invitations to the commandant of
the fort to give him an immediate meeting in the open ground, between
the two armies.

There they separated, and Duncan returned to the advanced post of the
French, accompanied as before; whence he instantly proceeded to the
fort, and to the quarters of his own commander.

 Five days into the siege of Fort William Henry, Heyward discovers that the French have captured Hawkeye. Inside the fort, Heyward sees Alice, who teases him for not seeing her and her sister enough, and Cora, who seems distressed. Though the French forces eventually release Hawkeye, the French leader Montcalm keeps the letter that Hawkeye carried from General Webb. Montcalm requests a meeting with Munro, but Munro sends Heyward in his place. The French general urges Major Heyward to surrender, reminding him that France's bloodthirsty Indian allies are difficult to hold in check

