 allied to anguish. It was this unusual mixture of wild
and keen mental agony, with native, simple, joyousness, that had most struck
Mabel, who, in the interview just related, had a dozen times been on the point
of believing that her suitor's heart was only lightly touched, as images of
happiness and humour gleamed over a mind that was almost infantine in its
simplicity and nature, an impression, however, that was soon driven away, by the
discovery of emotions so painful and so deep, that they seemed to harrow the
very soul. Indeed, in this respect, the Pathfinder was a mere child. Unpractised
in the ways of the world, he had no idea of concealing a thought of any kind,
and his mind received and reflected each emotion, with the pliability and
readiness of that period of life. The infant scarcely yielded its wayward
imagination to the passing impression, with greater facility, than this man, so
simple in all his personal feelings, so stern, stoical, masculine and severe in
all that touched his ordinary pursuits.
    »You say true, sarjeant,« Pathfinder answered - »a mistake in one like you
is indeed a more serious matter.«
    »You will find Mabel sincere and honest in the end, give her but a little
time.«
    »Ah's! me, Sarjeant!«
    »A man of your merits, would make an impression on a rock, give him time,
Pathfinder.«
    »Sarjeant Dunham, we are old fellow campaigners - that is, as campaigns are
carried on here in the wilderness; and we have done so many kind acts to each
other, that we can afford to be candid - what has caused you to believe that a
girl like Mabel could ever fancy one as rude as I am?«
    »What? - Why a variety of reasons, and good reasons, too, my friend. Those
same acts of kindness, perhaps, and the campaigns you mention; moreover, you are
my sworn and tried comrade.«
    »All this sounds well, so far as you and I be consarned, but they do not
touch the case of your pretty da'ghter. She may think these very campaigns have
destroyed the little comeliness I may once have had, and I am not quite sartain
that being an old friend of her father would lead any young maiden's mind into a
particular affection for a suitor. Like loves like, I tell you, sarjeant, and my
gifts are not altogether the gifts of Mabel Dunham.«
    »These are some of your old modest
