to his movements. With a step so noiseless that the acutest
ear would not have detected it, he crossed the floor, took his rifle
from the corner where it had been placed, with equal caution opened
the door, and stood in the open air.

It was a clear star-lit night, and on the placid bosom of the water
shone one star larger and brighter than the rest, as if to light him
on his way. But it was all unobserved by the Indian. He had no eyes,
no ears, no senses, except for the crime he was about to commit. To
him, no crime, but a heroic act. Slowly, and measuring each step as
though a thousand ears were listening, he proceeded in the direction
of the canoe, untied it, and softly pushed it into the stream. As he
took his seat the dip of his paddle made no sound, and thus, stern as
an iron statue, and almost as still, he paddled on.

And now Ohquamehud approached the island. He stopped his paddle and
held his breath, and listened. Not a living sound was to be heard,
not even the cry of a night bird; nothing save the soft flowing of the
water against the shore. Like an eagle circling round and round before
he pounces on his quarry, the Indian cautiously paddled around the
island. From one of the windows, before concealed, he saw a light.
Keeping at a distance, so that the rays should not fall upon him, he
stole around until he had interposed the hut between himself and its
beams. Then, apparently satisfied there was nothing to be feared, he
directed the canoe towards the island, and slowly advanced until its
bottom touched the sand, when he sat still and listened again. Hearing
nothing, he left the canoe, and crouching down, crept towards the
cabin. Having reached it, he applied his ear to the side and listened,
and again advanced. Thus slowly proceeding, some little time elapsed
before he found himself at the window whence streamed the light.
Without venturing to touch the wooden boards, as if fearful they might
communicate a knowledge of his presence, he raised himself almost
imperceptibly at the edge of the window, until he obtained a view of
the interior. Holden was sitting at a distance of not more than six
feet, near a small table, on which a single candle was burning, and
in his lap lay a large opened book, on which his folded hands were
resting. He seemed lost in meditation, gazing into the wood-fire
before him, towards which his crossed legs were extended at full
length.

The Indian slid his hand down to the lock of