ther that the hand of the young man held them together,
"you have no dread? You trust freely to our care and willingness to
protect you?"

"I am a soldier's daughter, as you know, Jasper Western, and ought to be
ashamed to confess fear."

"Rely on me--on us all. Your uncle, Pathfinder, the Delaware, were the
poor fellow here, I myself, will risk everything rather than harm should
reach you."

"I believe you, Jasper," returned the girl, her hand unconsciously
playing in the water. "I know that my uncle loves me, and will never
think of himself until he has first thought of me; and I believe you are
all my father's friends, and would willingly assist his child. But I am
not so feeble and weak-minded as you may think; for, though only a girl
from the towns, and, like most of that class, a little disposed to see
danger where there is none, I promise you, Jasper, no foolish fears of
mine shall stand in the way of your doing your duty."

"The Sergeant's daughter is right, and she is worthy of being honest
Thomas Dunham's child," put in the Pathfinder. "Ah's me, pretty one!
many is the time that your father and I have scouted and marched
together on the flanks and rear of the enemy, in nights darker than
this, and that, too, when we did not know but the next moment would lead
us into a bloody ambushment. I was at his side when he got the wound in
his shoulder; and the honest fellow will tell you, when you meet, the
manner in which we contrived to cross the river which lay in our rear,
in order to save his scalp."

"He has told me," said Mabel, with more energy perhaps than her
situation rendered prudent. "I have his letters, in which he has
mentioned all that, and I thank you from the bottom of my heart for the
service. God will remember it, Pathfinder; and there is no gratitude
that you can ask of the daughter which she will not cheerfully repay for
her father's life."

"Ay, that is the way with all your gentle and pure-hearted creatures.
I have seen some of you before, and have heard of others. The Sergeant
himself has talked to me of his own young days, and of your mother,
and of the manner in which he courted her, and of all the crossings and
disappointments, until he succeeded at last."

"My mother did not live long to repay him for what he did to win her,"
said Mabel, with a trembling lip.

"So he tells me. The honest Sergeant has kept nothing back; for, being
so many years my senior, he has looked on me, in ou