en, friend, if
it be Heaven's will, I will return to thee, and help thee out of thee
troubles."

With these words, Nathan turned from the soldier, setting out upon his
dangerous duty with a courage and self-devotion of which Roland did not
yet know all the merit. He threw himself upon the earth, and muttering to
little Peter, "Now, Peter, as thee ever served thee master well and
truly, serve him well and truly now," began to glide away amongst the
ruins, making his way from log to log, and bush to bush, close behind the
animal, who seemed to determine the period and direction of every
movement. His course was down the river, the opposite of that by which
the party had reached the ruin, in which quarter the woods were highest,
and promised the most accessible, as well as the best shelter; though
that could be reached only in the event of his successfully avoiding the
different barbarians hidden among the bushes on its border. He soon
vanished, with his dog, from the eyes of the soldier; who now, in
pursuance of instructions previously given him by Nathan, caused his two
followers to let fly a volley among the trees, which had the expected
effect of drawing another in return from the foes, accompanied by their
loudest whoops of menace and defiance. In this manner Nathan, as he drew
nigh the wood, was enabled to form correct opinions as to the different
positions of the besiegers, and to select that point in the line which
seemed the weakest; while the attention of the foe was in a measure drawn
off, so as to give him the better opportunity of advancing on them
unobserved. With this object in view, a second and third volley were
fired by the little garrison; after which they ceased making such feints
of hostility, and left him, as he had directed, to his fate.

It was then that, with a beating heart, Roland awaited the event; and as
he began to figure to his imagination the perils which Nathan must
necessarily encounter in the undertaking, he listened for the shout of
triumph that he feared would, each moment, proclaim the capture or death
of his messenger. But he listened in vain,--at least, in vain for such
sounds as his skill might interpret into evidences of Nathan's fate: he
heard nothing but the occasional crack of a rifle aimed at the ruin,
with the yell of the savage that fired it, the rush of the breeze, the
rumbling of the thunder, and the deep-toned echoes from the river below.
There was nothing whatever occurr