t the least brilliancy; and his arguments were all so clear and
practical, as to carry with them far more weight than was usual in the
violent partisan discussions of the period. Beulah fancied him a Solon
in sagacity, and a Bacon in wisdom. Her father, without proceeding
quite as far as this, was well pleased with his cool discriminating
judgment, and much disposed to defer to his opinions. The chaplain was
left out of the discussions as incorrigible.

The middle of June was passed, at the time colonel Beekman began to
think of tearing himself from his wife, in order to return into the
active scenes of preparation he had quitted, to make this visit. As
usual, the family frequented the lawn, at the close of the day, the
circumstance of most of the windows of the Hut looking on the court,
rendering this resort to the open air more agreeable than might
otherwise have been the case. Evert was undecided whether to go the
following morning, or to remain a day longer, when the lawn was thus
occupied, on the evening of the 25th of the month, Mrs. Willoughby
making the tea, as usual, her daughters sitting near her, sewing, and
the gentlemen at hand, discussing the virtues of different sorts of
seed-corn.

"There is a stranger!" suddenly exclaimed the chaplain, looking towards
the rocks near the mill, the point at which all arrivals in the valley
were first seen from the Hut. "He comes, too, like a man in haste,
whatever may be his errand."

"God be praised," returned the captain rising; "it is Nick, on his
usual trot, and this is about the time he should be back, the bearer of
good news. A week earlier might have augured better; but this will do.
The fellow moves over the ground as if he really had something to
communicate!"

Mrs. Willoughby and her daughters suspended their avocations, and the
gentlemen stood, in silent expectation, watching the long, loping
strides of the Tuscarora, as he came rapidly across the plain. In a few
minutes the Indian came upon the lawn, perfectly in wind, moving with
deliberation and gravity, as he drew nearer to the party. Captain
Willoughby, knowing his man, waited quite another minute, after the
red-man was leaning against an apple-tree, before he questioned him.

"Welcome back, Nick," he then said. "Where did you leave my son?"

"He tell dere," answered the Indian, presenting a note, which the
captain read.

"This is all right, Nick; and it shows you have been a true man. Your
wages