"Heaven grant they kill us quickly; it is the only grace we can hope for now." Dizzy and faint and exhausted, they were hurried along by their captors they knew not whither.

They had come out from the forest, and the sun was beginning to shine round them, when they suddenly heard a voice shouting out something the meaning of which they could not catch; and the next moment a body of white men came running up wearing the familiar uniform of French soldiers and officers.
"Uncle!" cried a lad's clear voice, speaking in French, a language perfectly intelligible to Fritz, "that tall man there is the one who saved Corinne and me in the forest that day when we were surrounded and nearly taken by the Rangers.

Get him away from the Indians; they shall not have him! He saved us from peril once; we must save him now." "Assuredly, my son," came the response, in a full, sonorous voice; and Fritz, rallying his failing powers, shook off for a moment the mists which seemed to enwrap him, and saw that a fine-looking man of benevolent aspect, wearing the habit of an ecclesiastic, was speaking earnestly to the Indians who had them in their hands, whilst several French officers and soldiers had formed up round them.
There was some quick and rather excited talk between the Abbe and the dusky savages; but he appeared to prevail with them at length, and Fritz heard the order given: "Take these men into the fort, and give them every care and attention.

I shall come later to see how my orders have been carried out." The men saluted.

They cut the cords which bound the prisoners.