Great was their astonishment when they saw the golden-haired girl with her fearless bearing, and the handsome lad standing beside her, still breathless and bewildered.

“Release these men,” said Stark briefly; “they have been told off for the service of this lady.  Let them resume their charge, and return in safety to the fort, or continue their chase in the forest at pleasure.  We do not war with women.

“If you wish to see some pretty hunting, Mistress Corinne, Rogers’ Rangers are at your service, and the haunts of bird and beast are well known to us.”

The girl’s eyes sparkled.  She was as full of the love of adventure as any boy could be.  She looked at her brother, but he shook his head in doubt.

“I think our father would not wish it,” he said.  “I thank these gentlemen most gratefully for their courtesy and chivalry, but I think we must be returning to the fort.  It may be that the shots will have been heard, and that soldiers may be coming in search of us already.

“We shall not forget your kindness, sir.  I trust the day will come when we may be able to requite you in kind;” and he held out his hand, first to Stark and then to Fritz.

Corinne had looked a little mutinous at first; but when her brother spoke of a possible sortie across the water from the fort, her face changed.  Perhaps she was not quite so confident of the chivalry of the French soldiers as she had been of that of the Rangers.

“Perhaps it is best so; yet I should have loved to scour the forest with Rogers’ Rangers.

“Are you the great Rogers himself?” she asked, turning to Stark, and then letting her glance wander to Fritz’s fine face.

“No, Mistress Corinne; Rogers himself is away farther afield,” answered Stark.  “This is Fritz Neville, and I am John Stark, whom he honours with the title of his lieutenant.”

“Fritz Neville—­John Stark,” she repeated, looking from one to the other, a smile in her frank, sweet eyes.  “I shall not forget those names.  I shall say them over every day to myself, and pray that in times of warfare the saints will watch over and protect the brave English Rangers, who had us as prisoners in their power, and let us go away safe and sound.”

She held out her hand as she spoke, first to one and then to the other of the men, both of whom took it reverently, pressed it, and bowed low with a sort of rude homage.  The other Rangers sent up a little cheer for the brave young lady who spoke their tongue so well; and the French soldiers, who looked a little ashamed of the predicament in which they had placed themselves, smiled, and became friendly and at ease, realizing that all was well.

“We will escort you to your boat, lady,” said Stark; “you will suffer us that privilege.”

“Ah yes, if it will be safe.  But they will not dare fire from the fort when they see that our company is returning.  I would I could take you back with me, and introduce you to my father and uncle; but perchance it would not be safe.”