azed out upon the broad bosom of the Ohio, as it glided
majestically along, through the dark shadows of the forest. It then
presented a far different appearance from what it does at this day. No
crowded cities then lined its banks. The flaming steamboat had not
broken its surface; the canoe, gliding noiselessly over it, was all that
gave token of the presence of man. A rude cabin erected in some lone
spot in the wilderness, like a green spot in the desert, showed the
feeble footing which he had upon the soil.

Solemnly and silently the old Ohio rolled along through its hundreds of
miles until it as solemnly and silently united with the great father of
waters.

When one has recently passed through an exciting and momentous
occurrence, and is then left completely alone, it is difficult to keep
from falling into a reverie; the subject which interests the mind most
will finally occupy it to the exclusion of everything else.

Thus it was with Roland Leslie. At first he began speculating upon the
probable success of Leland's enterprise; then upon the probability of
his arresting the attention of Kent, should he chance to be in the
vicinity. Having considered this for some time, he reflected upon the
dangers through which he had passed, and upon the likelihood of further
deliverance from them. This thought called to mind his mishap among the
rocks, and he proceeded to examine his wounds, of which, for some time,
he had entirely ceased to think. These being not very severe, as we have
shown, had failed to trouble him, and he was glad to see that they
needed no more attention.

Again left to his thoughts, they shortly wandered to Rosalind Leland.
Where was she? Was she alive, or already slain? Was there any hope of
meeting her again? Could _he_ do anything toward rescuing her from
bondage? He felt certain that she was alive, although a close prisoner,
and was confident that recovery was possible. That he determined she
_should be_ rescued, and that he should be the one that would do it, was
not strange.

Love will upset the mind of any person, and at times play the _wild_
with him. Leslie was naturally clear-headed, far-sighted and sagacious;
yet, when he permitted his ideas to dwell upon the object of his love,
they sadly misused him. At such times he was another person. He lost
sight of the obstacles and dangers which would have been apparent to any
one gifted with ordinary shrewdness; and he formed plans which, in his
s