hat hesitating manner, "I don't know's
thar's any body exactly sick--but--"

"But what, Isaac?" interrupted Algernon, with a start.

"Why, Ella, you know--"

"Yes, yes, Isaac--what of her?" and grasping him by the arm, Algernon
gazed upon the other's features with a look of alarm.

"Now don't be skeered, Mr. Reynolds--thar han't nothing happened--only I
'spect she's bin a thinking o' you--who every body thought war dead--and
she's kind o' grown thin and pale on't, and we war gitting afeared it
might end badly; but as you've come now, I know as how it'll all be
right agin."

Algernon released the speaker's arm, and for some moments gazed
abstractedly upon the ground; while over his countenance swept one of
those painful expressions of the deep workings of the soul, to which,
from causes known to the reader, he was subject. At length he said, with
a sigh:

"Well, Isaac, I have come to behold her once again, and then--"

He paused, apparently overpowered by some latent feeling.

"And then!" said Isaac, repeating the words, with a look of surprise:
"I reckon you arn't a going to leave us agin soon, Mr. Reynolds?"

"There are circumstances, unknown to you, friend Isaac, which I fear
will compel me so to do."

"What!" cried the other; "start off agin, and put your scalp into the
hands of the infernal, ripscallious, painted Injens? No, by thunder!
you shan't do it, Mr. Reynolds; for sting me with a nest o' hornets,
ef I don't hang to ye like a tick to a sheep. No, no, Mr. Reynolds;
don't--don't think o' sech a thing. But come, go in and see Ella--she'd
be crazy ef she knew you war here."

"Ay," answered Algernon, sadly, "that is what I fear. I dare not meet
her suddenly, Isaac--the shock might be too much for her nerves. I have
sent for you to go first and communicate intelligence of my arrival, in
a way to surprise her as little as possible."

"I'll do it, Mr. Reynolds; but--(here Isaac's voice trembled, his
features grew pale as death, and his whole frame quivered with intense
emotion)--but--but my--my father--what--"

He could say no more--his voice had completely failed him.

"Alas! Isaac," replied Algernon, deeply affected, and turning away his
face; "think the worst."

"Oh God!" groaned Isaac, covering his face with his hands, and
endeavoring to master his feelings. "But--but--he's dead, Mr. Reynolds?"

"He is."

For a few moments Isaac sobbed grievously; then withdrawing his hands,
and raising hims