nderstood.
It was a common artifice to scatter the herds, and to profit by the
confusion. But Mahtoree had, as it would seem in this particular
undervalued the acuteness of the man he had assailed. The phlegm with
which the squatter learned his loss, has already been seen, and it now
remains to exhibit the results of his more matured determinations.

Though the encampment contained many an eye that was long unclosed, and
many an ear that listened greedily to catch the faintest evidence of
any new alarm, it lay in deep quiet during the remainder of the night.
Silence and fatigue finally performed their accustomed offices, and
before the morning all but the sentinels were again buried in sleep. How
well these indolent watchers discharged their duties, after the assault,
has never been known, inasmuch as nothing occurred to confirm or to
disprove their subsequent vigilance.

Just as day, however, began to dawn, and a grey light was falling from
the heavens, on the dusky objects of the plain, the half startled,
anxious, and yet blooming countenance of Ellen Wade was reared above the
confused mass of children, among whom she had clustered on her stolen
return to the camp. Arising warily she stepped lightly across the
recumbent bodies, and proceeded with the same caution to the utmost
limits of the defences of Ishmael. Here she listened, as if she doubted
the propriety of venturing further. The pause was only momentary,
however; and long before the drowsy eyes of the sentinel, who overlooked
the spot where she stood, had time to catch a glimpse of her active
form, it had glided along the bottom, and stood on the summit of the
nearest eminence.

Ellen now listened intently anxious to catch some other sound, than the
breathing of the morning air, which faintly rustled the herbage at her
feet. She was about to turn in disappointment from the enquiry, when the
tread of human feet making their way through the matted grass met her
ear. Springing eagerly forward, she soon beheld the outlines of a figure
advancing up the eminence, on the side opposite to the camp. She had
already uttered the name of Paul, and was beginning to speak in the
hurried and eager voice with which female affection is apt to greet a
friend, when, drawing back, the disappointed girl closed her salutation
by coldly adding--"I did not expect, Doctor, to meet you at this unusual
hour."

"All hours and all seasons are alike, my good Ellen, to the genuine
love