In the meantime, La Porte, anxious to rescue his wife, frequently called her aloud by name; and at last she heard his voice, and replied with an exclamation of joy.

The Indians. on hearing this, believed she was the object of the enterprise, and formed a rampart around her and the infant she held in her arms. The French attacked them with the animation peculiar to their character; but it was in vain. The Indians repulsed them with their spears, and raised a wall of the slain before themselves. La Porte, almost distracted, commanded the torches and combustibles to be lighted, and the wigwams in which the squaws and papooses of the Indians were lodged to be set on fire. The flames spread with appalling rapidity – the shrieks and screams of the burning victims pierced the hearts even of the infuriated Frenchmen; but the Indians stood in their places like adamant, with a constancy of purpose that the adventures of European war have never surpassed. By the light of the flames, the Indians were enabled to make a fearful retaliation-they bent their bows and drew their arrows from their quivers, and in the first shower of their shafts every arrow bore a billet to the heart of an enemy. Another such desolating volley had destroyed the French: but at this crisis one of the sachems, fixing his eye on La Porte, called on his Indian companions to stay their arrows for a moment; and placing one of his own on his bowstring, he levelled it at the breast of the intrepid Frenchman.

The sachem was standing at the time beside Madame La Porte, and by that circumstance he was protected from the muskets of the assailants. On both sides there was a pause--the fate of La Porte seemed inevitable -when his lady, with heroic presence of mind, as the bow was drawn to its full bent, snatched a burning brand, and dashed it at the hand of the sachem, the harmless arrow dropped at his feet. The French raised a shout,-La Porte rushed on the sachem, and sabred him to the ground. This decided the conflict for a time. The Indians made no further resistance, but fled from their encampment, and abandoned all to their enemies.

Here the curious sagacity of the Indians in this desperate condition of their affairs, shewed itself. On escaping from the entrenchments of their camp, instead of scattering themselves, they ail instinctively ran, as if they had been directed by a command. to the spot where the boats of their enemies were lying, and cut them adrift. They then planted themselves under the bank, and, with bent bows and fixed arrows, waited the return of the French. La Porte, when he found the camp abandoned, mustered his men, and led them back to where they had left the boats, with the intention of re-embarking. The Indians heard them coming, and suppressed their breathing. The French drew near, and went straight to embark: those who were foremost gave the alarm, that the boats were gone. In the same moment a shower of the Indian arrows made dreadful havoc among them. La Porte was standing with his wife and her child leaning on his arm, when this terrible ambuscade so suddenly burst upon his men. But possessing that presence of mind which qualified him to undertake the difficult enterprise in which he was engaged, he directed his wife to lie down with her child; and calling to

such of the soldiers as had torches and combustibles, to light them, and to plant them on the ground, he charged the Indians in their lurking places under the bank, and before many of them could escape, he was their master again. The contest was now unequal. The Indians, however, rallied on the top of the bank; and the torches illuminating the shore, enabled them to take perfect aim at the French. La Porte, though he escaped himself, saw with dreadful feelings his men falling around him one by one.

By this time the garrison of Fort St. Louis, anxious spectators, had discerned by the lights on the shore that the boats were thrown adrift, and justly apprehending from that circumstance that their comrades had the worst of the conflict, manned the two or three boats which remained at the garrison, and went to their assistance. They arrived at the critical moment when the Chevalier La Porte and his few remaining companions were exhausted with fatigue, and their ammunition nearly all expended. The reinforcements cheered the French and dismayed the Indians, who, nevertheless, with the constancy of their fearless nature, maintained themselves upon the top of the bank; and the heavens having by this time cleared up, their tall forms, darkly seen by the star-light, presented conspicuous targets, as it were, to the aims of the French: thus, in their turn, they fell as fast as the soldiers of La Porte, whom they had so nearly destroyed. Victory being now decidedly with the French, La Porte was anxious to re-embark his few remaining men; but as the Indians stood firm, the honour of the French would not permit them to listen to prudent counsels, and with one voice they declared their determination

not to retreat.

In the meantime, Madame La Porte, who, with her child, had continued lying on the ground, to escape the arrows of the Indians, during a short pause in the battle raised herself, holding her child in her arms, to see the aspect of the conflict: while in this position she was discovered by an Indian, and almost in the same moment the infant was pierced with an arrow. She felt him shudder—and then he was dead, but she clung to the lifeless body, and again stretched herself on the ground.

At this moment, La Porte seeing that the firmness of the Indians was not to be overcome by attacking them in front, despatched a few of his men under the bank of the river to attack them in rear. This manoeuvre

was successful. The Indians finding themselves between two fires, uttered a wild shout and again fled; but it was not the flight of defeat. They rallied in the darkness, and before the French could reach them they were descending towards the landing-place,through a narrow path which wound through the bushes towards the bank where the boats lay. Here they found Madame La Porte lying on the ground, still embracing her lifeless infant; and one of them was on the point of despatching her with his tomahawk. It happened, however, that among the French who had fallen there was one, who, though severely wounded, was able to use his right hand, with which he still grasped his sword. Seeing the peril of the lady, in the same moment that the Huron raised his tomahawk, the wounded man, with a desperate effort, plunged his sword into the heart of the savage. By the exertion he in the same instant expired.

At day-light the two bodies were seen as they died. The Indians holding the tomahawk, was still in the position, though he lay upon his back, in which he had raised his arm; and the Frenchman's sword stood in the heart of the Indian, grasped with seemingly the same energy with which it had been fixed there.

During this conflict on the shore, La Porte, who had hurried up the steep bank with his men, in quest of the fugitive Indians, not finding them returned to re-embark, satisfied with his victory; but when he again reached the top of the bank, and saw, by the gleam of the morning, which now began to dapple the east, the Indians in possession of the boats and the landing-place, with his lady besmeared with blood, he was for a moment struck with consternation: it was, however, only for a mo The undaunted courage, and the bold expedients with which the unconquerable Hurons had fought and circumvented him, fired his French emulation, and he determined not to leave the field while a single Indian remained. A few words told this resolution to his men. They shared his pride and spirit, and with a unanimous voice they cried, as if inspired simultaneously by the same instinct," Let each take his man !” and rushed down upon the Indians, of whom as many as there were Frenchmen almost in the same instant fell beneath their swords.

ment.

Only three of these determined warriors now remained. Yet these three stood as resolute in stern sublimity as if they were still surrounded by their heroic companions. They fixed their arrows to their bow-strings, and were on the point of taking aim, when two of them were pierced with as many bullets. Such unsurpassed heroism moved the admiration of all the French, and La Porte ordered that last warrior to be spared. But the Huron would not accept the boon. His arrow was ready in the bow -he raised it--took aim-and it quivered through the heart of La Porte He himself sunk at the same time under the swords of every Frenchman who was near enough to inflict a blow.

So ended this intrepid adventure. The bodies of La Porte and his child were placed in one of the boats, and, with Madame La Porte, were slowly conveyed to the garrison. The bodies of the slain were next morning buried by the French where they lay.

THE VOICE OF LOVE.

[FROM THE INSPECTOR.]

Oh! if there is a magic charm in this low valley drear,

To cheat the pilgrim's weary way-the darkened soul to cheer,
It is the soothing voice of Love that echoes o'er the mind

Like music on a twilight lake, or bells upon the wind.

Oh! dull would be the rugged road and sad the wanderer's heart
Should that celestial harmony from life's dark sphere depart
Oh! how for that far distant land would sigh the lonely breast
"Where the wicked cease from troubling, and the weary are at rest.”

Ꭱ .

MARIE, OR THE BLUE HANDKERCHIEF.

[FROM THE FOREIGN LITERARY GAZETTE, NO. 3.] Returning on foot from Orleans to Chateau de Bardy, in the month of October 1828, I saw a regiment of the Foreign Guard* marching before me on the same route. I quickened my pace to hear the military music. which I love so much but the music ceased; and only a few faint measures of the distant drum, marking the uniform step of the soldiers, reached my ear.

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After half an hour's march I saw the regiment enter a small plain, surrounded by a wood of firs: I inquired of a captain whom I knew, if they were going to manœuvre. "No," replied he; we are going to try, and probably to shoot, a soldier of my company for stealing from a citizen, in whose house he was billeted." "What !" said I, " judge, condemn, and execute him in the same moment?" "Yes," replied he, "these are the rules of our capitulations." This from a disciplinarian would bear of no reply, as if every thing had been foreseen in those capitulations, both fault and punishment, justice and humanity itself. "But if you are curious to see it," added the captain, "I will procure you a place it will not last long." I have ever felt an interest in sad sights of this description. I imagined that I was about to learn in what manner death is depicted on the face of a dying man ;-I followed the captain.

The regiment had formed square; behind the second line, on the skirts of the wood, some soldiers were occupied digging a grave. They were commanded by a sub-lieutenant; for in the regiment every thing is done with order, and there is a certain discipline even in digging a man's grave. In the centre of the square eight officers were seated on drums; a ninth, to the right, and a little more in advance, was writing negligently on his knees, merely as if to shew that a man was not killed withoutsome form.

The accused was called forward. He was a young man, of tall stature, of a mild and noble appearance. With him advanced a woman, the only witness who deposed against him in this affair. But when the colonel was about to interrogate him, the soldier said, ""Tis useless, I will confess all; I have stolen a handkerchief in this lady's house."-The Colonel. "You, Peter! you, famed for a good fellow ?"-Peter. "It is true, colonel; I always endeavoured to satisfy my superiors, but indeed I did not steal for myself; it was for Marie."-Colonel. Who is this Marie ?"-Peter. " "Tis Marie, who lives yonder......in our country ......near Aremberg ...... where the big apple-tree stands .... I shall then never see her more !"-Colonel. "I do not understand you, Peter; explain yourself."-Peter. "Well, then, colonel, read this letter ;"and he delivered him the following letter, every word of which is still present to my recollection.

Swiss Royal Guards, in the Service of France.

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t Term of service, extending from seven to fourteen years, used in all foreign armies, many regulations of which are peculiar to the Swiss troops, governed by military laws, totally independent of those of the country where they take service, and many features of which are distinguished by the most cruel and rigid discipline.

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My dear friend Peter,-I profit by the recruit Arnold, who is engaged in your regiment, to send you this letter, and a silk purse, which I have made on purpose for you. I was obliged to hide from father to make it; for he always scolds me for loving you so much, and says that you will never return; but you will return, won't you? yet, even should you not, I shall love you. I promised myself to you the day you picked up my blue handkerchief at the dance of Aremberg, to bring it to me. When then, shall I see you?' But what pleases me is, that I'm told you are esteemed by your officers, and loved by your comrades. Yet you have another year to serve. Do it quickly, for then we'll be married. Adieu ! my dear friend Peter. "Thy dear Marie."

"P. S. Try and send me also something from France: not for fear that I shall forget you, but that I may wear it about me. You must kiss what you send me. I am quite sure that I shall find the place you have kissed immediately."

When the perusal of this letter was ended, Peter resumed : "Arnold," said he, “delivered me this letter last night, when I received my billet. All the night I could not sleep; I thought of the country and of Marie. She asked me for something from France: I had no money; I have engaged my pay for three months for my brother and my cousin, who returned to our country some days ago. This morning, when I got up to march, I opened my window; a blue handkerchief hung from a line; it resembled Marie's; it was the same colour, the same white stripes. I had the weakness to take it, and to put it in my knapsack. I went into the street-I repented: I was just returning to the house, when this lady ran after me; the handkerchief was found upon me. This is the truth: the capitulation requires that I be shot; shoot me, but do not despise me."

The judges could not conceal their emotion; nevertheless, when the vote was put, he was condemned, unanimously, to death. He heard the sentence with coolness; then approaching his captain, he begged him to lend him four francs. The captain gave them to him.

I saw him then advance to the woman, to whom the blue handkerchief had been restored, and 1 heard these words: " Madam, here are four francs; I know not if your handkerchief is worth more, but even should that be, I pay it dear enough for you to forgive me the rest." Then tak ing back the handkerchief, he kissed it and gave it to the captain: "My officer," said he, "in two years you will return to our mountains: if you should pass by Arembergh, ask for Marie, give her this blue handkerchief, but-do not tell her-how I have purchased it." Then he knelt, prayed to God, and marched with a firm step to execution.

I then retired and entered the wood to avoid seeing. the end of this cruel tragedy. Some musket-shots soon informed me that all was over. Ι returned an hour after; the regiment had retired, all was calm: but, on skirting the wood to regain the road, I perceived, at a few paces before me, traces of blood, and a mound of earth newly turned up. I took a branch of fir, made with it a sort of cross and placed it on the Grave of poor Peter, forgotten now by all the world except by me and perhaps by Marie. French of Etienne Bergnet.