r not to take us by surprise. I am going to meet the--to
meet the men, and to bring father in. You must prepare mother for the
sad, sad tidings--yes, Beulah, for the worst, as everything depends on
the wisdom and goodness of God!"

"Oh! Maud, this is dreadful!" exclaimed the sister, sinking into a
chair--"What will become of mother--of little Evert--of us all!"

"The providence of the Ruler of heaven and earth will care for us. Kiss
me, dear sister--how cold you are--rouse yourself, Beulah, for mother's
sake. Think how much more _she_ must feel than we possibly can,
and then be resolute."

"Yes, Maud--very true--no woman can feel like a wife--unless it be a
mother--"

Here Beulah's words were stopped by her fainting.

"You see, Smash," said Maud, pointing to her sister with a strange
resolution, "she must have air, and a little water--and she has salts
about her, I know. Come, Nick; we have no more time to waste--you must
be my guide."

The Tuscarora had been a silent observer of this scene, and if it did
not awaken remorse in his bosom, it roused feelings that had never
before been its inmates. The sight of two such beings suffering under a
blow that his own hand had struck, was novel to him, and he knew not
which to encourage most, a sentiment allied to regret, or a fierce
resentment, that any should dare thus to reproach, though it were only
by yielding to the grief natural to their situation. But Maud had
obtained a command over him, that he knew not how to resist, and he
followed her from the room, keeping his eyes riveted the while on the
pallid face of Beulah. The last was recalled from her insensibility,
however, in the course of a few minutes, through the practised
attentions of the negresses.

Maud waited for nothing. Motioning impatiently for the Tuscarora to
lead the way, she glided after him with a rapidity that equalled his
own loping movement. She made no difficulties in passing the stockade,
though Nick kept his eyes on the labourers, and felt assured their
_exeunt_ was not noticed. Once by the path that led along the
rivulet, Maud refused all precautions, but passed swiftly over it,
partially concealed by its bushes. Her dress was dark, and left little
liability to exposure. As for Nick, his forest attire, like the hunting
shirt of the whites, was expressly regulated by the wish to go to and
fro unseen.

In less than three minutes after the Indian and Maud had passed the
gate, they were drawi