ned upon her, as, like a
spirit, she glided noiselessly forward, her sweet countenance radiant
with the flush of excitement, her eyes dilated and sparkling, and her
glossy ringlets floating on the breeze. Curiosity could no longer remain
unsatisfied; and by one spontaneous movement, from every point of
compass, women and children now hurried toward the center of the common,
to gather the tidings.

The quiet, modest, melancholy air of Ella, had, one time with another,
since her first appearance in the Station, attracted the attention,
and won the regard of its inmates; most of whom had made inquiries
concerning her, and learned the cause of her sadness; and now, as she
gained the crowd, each gazed upon her with a look of respect; and at
once moving aside to let her pass, she presently stood the central
attraction of an excited multitude, of both sexes, all ages and sizes.

"Who are they?" cried she again, turning from one to the other, rapidly,
with an anxious look: "who are the victims of the renegade Girty?"

"We were speaking, Miss Barnwell," answered a youth, of genteel
appearance, doffing his hat, and making at the same time a polite and
respectful bow: "We were speaking of the defeat, capture, and burning
of Colonel Crawford, by the Indians, in their own country, in which the
notorious Simon Girty is said to have taken an active part[19]--news
whereof has just reached us."

At the mention of the name of Crawford, so different from the one she
was expecting to hear, the momentary insanity, or delusion of Ella,
vanished; she saw her position at a glance, and the hundred eyes that
were upon her; and instantly her face became suffused with blushes;
while she shrunk back, with a sense of maidenly shame and bashful
timidity, almost overpowering to herself, and really painful for others
to behold. She now strove to speak--to give an excuse for her singular
conduct--but her tongue failed her, and she would have sunk to the
earth, only for the support of Mrs. Younker, who at this moment gained
her side.

"Never mind it. Miss Barnwell--it don't need any excuse--we understand
your feelings for lost friends," were some of the remarks from the
crowd, as the throng again made a passage for her to depart.

"Goodness, gracious, marcy on me alive! what a splurge you did make
on't, darling!" said Mrs. Younker to Ella, as they moved away by
themselves. "Why, you jest kind o' started up, for all the world like a
skeered deer; a