rt distance above the mill. But, in the mean time, unfortunately for
Marco, the steamboat had regained its liberty, and when Marco and the
boy came in view of it again, as their horse stopped at the edge of the
water, they saw, to Marco's dismay, that she was ploughing her way
swiftly up the river, being just about to disappear behind a point of
land which terminated the view of the water in that direction.

"They are gone," said Marco, in a tone of despair, "they are gone; and
what shall I do?"

"Can't you go in the stage?" asked the boy, hoping thus to say a word of
encouragement and consolation.

"No," said Marco, "I don't believe there is any stage from this old
mill. Besides, I don't know where to go. I should not have thought that
Forester would have gone off and left me."

"Was he on board the steamboat?" asked the boy.

"Yes," said Marco--"that is, he was to go on board--but I left him at
the tavern."

"Perhaps he is there now," said the boy. "Let us go and see."

Marco approved of this plan, and they turned the wagon, and rode towards
the tavern. As soon as the horse stopped in the yard, Marco leaped out
of the wagon, and ran in. He found Forester reclining upon the sofa,
where Marco had left him, asleep.

Marco advanced towards him, and took him by the shoulder, roughly, to
wake him up, saying,

"Forester! cousin Forester! wake up! the boat has gone."

Forester opened his eyes--looked wildly at Marco, and then put his hands
to his head, pressing his temples with the palms, but he did not speak.

"The boat has gone, cousin Forester," continued Marco.

"Then what good does it do to wake me up so roughly?" asked Forester.

"Why--I--thought you'd want to know it," said Marco; "but why did not
you come down?"

"Because," said Forester, "you were to come and tell me, I thought, when
they were ready to go."

Marco had no reply to make to this suggestion, and he was silent. He
found, afterwards, on farther conversation with Forester, that he was
quite unwell. His head ached, and his face was flushed, as if he was
feverish. Marco related to Forester an account of his adventures on the
raft of logs. Forester thought that he had had a very narrow escape.

Marco expected that Forester would have rebuked him very sharply for his
fault in going upon the logs at all. But he did not. After Marco had got
through with his account, Forester only said,

"Well, Marco, you evidently did wrong in getting upon the