gave the stranger a curious glance. He looked
exactly like her father, save that he was dressed almost wholly in
buckskin, and had a wild, forest-like appearance. Then, as she
scrutinized him more closely, she perceived a slight scar on his left
cheek. This was not on her father's face.

"You are not my father; but you are very like him," she said.

"I am not your father, little maid. I came to thank these people for
their kindness to me a few years ago."

"Are you he whom I found by the brook, wounded and dying?" asked
Charles.

"I am."

"Your mysterious disappearance occasioned much comment."

Before the stranger could frame an answer, the door was again thrown
open, and this time it was Cora's father, in reality, who entered the
house. She sprang to him, saying:

"Father, I see now there is a difference between you and him!"

For the first time, George Waters saw the stranger. As their eyes met,
each started, gazed at the other a moment, as if to be assured he was
right, and then George Waters cried:

"Harry!"

"George!"

A dramatic episode, such as is so often acted upon the stage, or
described in novels, followed, and, by degrees, the small audience
caught from words dropped by the men, that they were brothers, who had
long been separated, and had been searching for each other.

When the excitement attending the discovery had in a measure subsided,
the brothers walked down toward the spring, where, seating themselves on
a moss-grown stone, George Waters told his brother of joining Monmouth's
army, of being arrested and sold as a slave in Virginia, and of his
escape and long perilous flight to New England.

"Where have you been since you were here, Harry?"

"I was a captive among the Indians for a few months, was liberated by
some French Jesuits and went to France and thence to England, hoping to
see you. I was several weeks at our old home near Stockton. Then I came
back to America and have been in New York trading in furs."

A silence of several moments followed. George, whose soul seemed stirred
with some deep emotions, asked:

"Harry, while in England, in Stockton, did you see her?"

Harry knew to whom he referred, and he answered:

"No."

"Where is she?"

"I know not."

"Do you know whether she be living or dead?"

"I do not."

"God grant that she be dead!"

At this moment, Cora, who had followed behind them and overheard their
strange words, came forward and asked:

"Father,