ning there, and all, feeling the strength of his
spirit, obeyed him without asking why.

Only Braxton Wyatt uttered doubts with words and sneered with looks. He
too had become a hunter of skill, and hence what he said might have some
merit.

"It seems strange that Henry Ware should come so suddenly when he might
have come before," he remarked with apparent carelessness to Lucy Upton.

She looked at him with sharp interest. The same thought had entered her
mind, but she did not like to hear Braxton Wyatt utter it.

"At all events he is about to save us from a great danger," she said.

Wyatt laughed and his thin long features contracted in an ugly manner.

"It is a tale to impress us and perhaps to cover up something else," he
replied. "There is not an Indian within two hundred miles of us. I know,
I have been through the woods and there is no sign."

She turned away, liking his words little and his manner less. She
stopped presently by a corner of one of the houses on a slight elevation
whence she could see a long distance beyond the palisade. So far as
seeming went Braxton Wyatt was certainly right. The spring day was full
of golden sunshine, the fresh new green of the forest was unsullied, and
it was hard to conjure up even the shadow of danger.

Wyatt might have ground for his suspicion, but why should Henry Ware
sound a false alarm? The words "perhaps to cover up something else"
returned to her mind, but she dismissed them angrily.

She went to the Ware house and rejoiced with Mrs. Ware, to whom a son
had come back from the dead, and in whose joy there was no flaw.
According to her mother's heart a wonder had been performed, and it had
been done for her special benefit.

The village was in full posture of defense, all were inside the walls
and every man had gone to his post. They now awaited the attack, and yet
there was some distrust of Henry Ware. Braxton Wyatt, a clever youth,
had insidiously sowed the seeds of suspicion, and already there was a
crop of unbelief. By indirection he had called attention to the strange
appearance of the returned wanderer, the Indianlike air that he had
acquired, his new ways unlike their own, and his indifference to many
things that he had formerly liked. He noticed the change in Henry Ware's
nature and he brought it also to the notice of others.

It seemed as the brilliant day passed peacefully that Wyatt was right
and Henry, for some hidden purpose of his own, perhaps to