d, as they approached nearer to the
water's edge, and the rays of the evening sun fell brightly upon them,
he also saw that the arms of that graceful and familiar form carried an
infant.

'Surely it is an illusion!' he exclaimed. I have so long pictured to
my mind that blessed sight, that at length my fancy seems realized. It
cannot be!'

But again his name was called--not now with an Indian accent, but in
the manly English tones of Edward Winslow 'Bring down a canoe, Roger!'
he shouted across the Water. 'Edith and your child cannot swim this,
arm of the sea.'

It was then true! Edith--his beloved wife--was there and only that
narrow inlet divided them! The Indians had sprung to the shore, and
were waiting his directions, to go in search of a canoe; but for a few
moments he did not regard them, so riveted were his eyes, and all his
senses, on the opposite shore. But now he remembered that only by means
of a boat could he attain that shore; and making a signal of wild joy
and welcome to Edith, he hurried up the creek with the Indians, and
rapidly unloosed the moorings of his canoe, which lay securely behind a
projecting rock. He leaped into it, leaving the natives on the shore,
and paddled the canoe swiftly down the creek, to the spot where Edith
stood waiting to receive him, trembling with agitation and joy.

When the first burst of emotion, at this, long-desired meeting with his
wife and hitherto unknown child, had subsided, Roger warmly welcomed
the friend who had so kindly protected them during their long journey,
and brought them to the wild spot that was now his only home. He then
led them to the canoe, and, with Winslow's assistance, soon rowed them
to the other side, and conducted them to his, infant settlement.

The huts were indeed erected, and covered in with shingle roofs; but
their appearance promised little of outward comfort to Edith. Yet an
inward joy and satisfaction were now permitted to her, which, at one
time, she had never hoped to enjoy again on earth; and all externals
were as nothing when compared with this. Nevertheless, she exerted
herself with all a woman's taste and skill to arrange the simple
furniture of the hut, and even to add a something of decoration; and
both her husband and Winslow wondered at the improvement which she soon
effected in the appearance of the dwelling, and the ingenuity with
which she converted the rudest materials into articles of use or
ornament.

Her joyous