“Salar.—Why, I am sure, if he forfeit, thou wilt not take his flesh; what’s that good for? Shy.—To bait fish withal; if it will feed nothing else, it will feed my revenge.” —Merchant of Venice

The shades of evening had come to increase the dreariness of the place, when the party entered the ruins of William Henry. The scout and his companions immediately made their preparations to pass the night there; but with an earnestness and sobriety of demeanor that betrayed how much the unusual horrors they had just witnessed worked on even their practised feelings. A few fragments of rafters were