 father. These little arrangements completed, our hero returned to the
fire, around which he found all the remainder of the party assembled, including
Jasper.
 

                                  Chapter XXVI

 »You saw but sorrow in its waning form,
 A working sea remaining from a storm;
 When now the weary waves roll o'er the deep,
 And faintly murmur ere they fall asleep -«
                                             Dryden, Aureng-Zebe, IV.i. 197-200.
 
Men accustomed to a warfare, like that we have been describing, are not apt to
be much under the influence of tender feelings, while still in the field.
Notwithstanding their habits, however, more than one heart was with Mabel in the
block, while the incidents we are about to relate were in the course of
occurrence, and even the indispensable meal was less relished by the hardiest of
the soldiers, than it might have been had not the serjeant been so near his end.
    As Pathfinder returned from the block, he was met by Muir, who led him aside
in order to hold a private discourse. The manner of the Quarter Master had that
air of supererogatory courtesy about it, which almost invariably denotes
artifice, for while physiognomy, and phrenology are but lame sciences, at the
best, and perhaps lead to as many false as right conclusions, we hold that there
is no more infallible evidence of insincerity of purpose, short of overt acts,
than a face that smiles when there is no occasion, and the tongue that is out of
measure smooth. Muir had much of this manner in common, mingled with an apparent
frankness, that his Scottish intonation of voice, Scottish accent, and Scottish
modes of expression were singularly adapted to sustain. He owed his preferment,
indeed, to a long exercised deference to Lundie and his family, for, while the
Major himself was much too acute to be the dupe of one so much his inferior in
real talents and attainments, most persons are accustomed to make liberal
concessions to the flatterer, even while they distrust his truth, and are
perfectly aware of his motive. On the present occasion, the contest in skill,
was between two men as completely the opposites of each other, in all the
leading essentials of character, as very well could be. Pathfinder was as
simple, as the Quarter Master was practised; he was as sincere as the other was
false, and as direct as the last was tortuous. Both were cool and calculating,
and both were brave, though in different modes and degrees; Muir never exposing
his person except for effect, while the guide included fear among the rational
passions
