Then came over our heroine the full consciousness of her situation and of the necessity of exertion.  She cast a rapid glance at the body at her feet, saw that it had ceased to breathe, and fled.  It was but a few minutes’ run to the blockhouse, the door of which Mabel had barely gained when it was closed violently in her face by Jennie, the soldier’s wife, who in blind terror thought only of her own safety.  The reports of five or six rifles were heard while Mabel was calling out for admittance; and the additional terror they produced prevented the woman within from undoing quickly the very fastenings she had been so expert in applying.  After a minute’s delay, however, Mabel found the door reluctantly yielding to her constant pressure, and she forced her slender body through the opening the instant it was large enough to allow of its passage.  By this time Mabel’s heart ceased to beat tulmultuously and she gained sufficient self-command to act collectedly.  Instead of yielding to the almost convulsive efforts of her companion to close the door again, she held it open long enough to ascertain that none of her own party was in sight, or likely on the instant to endeavor to gain admission:  then she allowed the opening to be shut.  Her orders and proceedings now became more calm and rational.  But a single bar was crossed, and Jennie was directed to stand in readiness to remove even that at any application from a friend.  She then ascended the ladder to the room above, where by means of a loophole she was enabled to get as good a view of the island as the surrounding bushes would allow.  Admonishing her associate below to be firm and steady, she made as careful an examination of the environs as her situation permitted.

To her great surprise, Mabel could not at first see a living soul on the island, friend or enemy.  Neither Frenchman nor Indian was visible, though a small straggling white cloud that was floating before the wind told her in which quarter she ought to look for them.  The rifles had been discharged from the direction of the island whence June had come, though whether the enemy were on that island, or had actually landed on her own, Mabel could not say.  Going to the loop that commanded a view of the spot where M’Nab lay, her blood curdled at perceiving all three of his soldiers lying apparently lifeless at his side.  These men had rushed to a common centre at the first alarm, and had been shot down almost simultaneously by the invisible foe whom the Corporal had affected to despise.

Neither Cap nor Lieutenant Muir was to be seen.  With a beating heart, Mabel examined every opening through the trees, and ascended even to the upper story or garret of the blockhouse, where she got a full view of the whole island, so far as its covers would allow, but with no better success.  She had expected to see the body of her uncle lying on the grass like those of the soldiers, but it was nowhere visible.  Turning towards the spot where the boat lay, Mabel saw that it was still fastened to the shore; and then she supposed that by some accident Muir had been prevented from effecting his retreat in that quarter.  In short, the island lay in the quiet of the grave, the bodies of the soldiers rendering the scone as fearful as it was extraordinary.