the
tenderness of a mother he raised the wounded man in his arms, and
endeavored to discover the place and character of the wound, in order
to staunch, if possible, the bleeding. But it was soon apparent that
all such attempts would be useless, and only tend to aggravate the
pain without leading to any desirable result, so long as the clothing
was allowed to remain on. The better course seemed to be to remove him
immediately to the hut. As gently, therefore, as possible, the old man
bore him to the boat, and deposited him upon its bottom. A few strokes
of the paddle sent it back again to the island, and soon the wounded
stranger was lying on a rude, but welcome bed. Here the first thing to
be done was to divest him of his coat and such other clothing as hid
the wound. Having performed this duty, which was done by cutting off
the coat and tearing the under garments, the next care of the old man
was, in the best manner in his power, to apply bandages to stop the
blood, which trickled from the right side and shoulder. This was done
with no little skill, as by one who did not then see a gun-shot wound
for the first time. The process was accompanied by an occasional
groan, when the bandages pressed the wounded parts too closely, which
the sufferer seemed to try to suppress, appearing, at the same time,
to endeavor to express his thanks, by a smile and the soft glances of
his eyes. Any attempt at exertion was instantly repressed by his kind
nurse, who never failed, when it occurred, to enjoin quiet.

"Thou art weak from loss of blood, young man," he said, "but I am
mistaken if there is much danger. Yet, a narrow escape hast thou had.
Be thankful to that Providence, by whom the hairs of thy head are all
numbered, and who permitteth not a sparrow to fall without notice to
the ground, for so directing the shot that they only tore the outer
flesh, without reaching a vital part. And so, hereafter, when the
evils of life shall assail thee, may they penetrate no deeper than the
surface, nor affect thy immortal soul."

Here the young man made a motion, as if about to speak, but he was
interrupted by the other.

"Nay," said the Recluse, "thou must obey me for thy own good, and I
have forbid all speech. It will start the blood, and weaken thee still
more. Compose thyself, now, while I leave thee but for an instant, to
discover, if I can, a boat going to Hillsdale."

We will avail ourselves of the absence of the Recluse to describe