ma of his pipe after
him. I thought his conduct was very strange; but then I had always
regarded him as a singular man. He had never gone to the landing when a
steamer arrived. If he wanted any stores, or wished to send to St.
Louis for anything, he always commissioned Matt or me to do his
business for him. He had never whispered a word in my hearing in regard
to his past history, though he took a great interest in me.

I went into the Castle, and found that Miss Ella was as comfortable as
the circumstances would permit. I put some pitch wood on the fire,
which made the room light enough to enable one to read in any part of
it. I prepared some supper, of which she ate very sparingly, though
when, like an accomplished housekeeper, I apologized for the fare, she
declared that it was very good.

I had to unload the wagon; but the barrel of flour was still too much
for me, and I asked Mr. Mellowtone to help me, and he came to the front
of the Castle for that purpose. I lighted a pitch-wood torch, and went
out. Miss Ella followed me, and insisted upon holding the torch, when I
began to thrust one end of it into the ground.

Mr. Mellowtone could not help seeing her; and when I was ready to roll
down the barrel of flour on the skids, I saw that he was gazing at her
very intently.

"What is this young lady's name, Phil Farringford?" he asked, in a low
tone.

"Ella Gracewood," I replied.

"My daughter!" exclaimed he, with deep emotion, as he sprang towards
her.

CHAPTER X.

IN WHICH PHIL VISITS PARADISE, AND FIRES AT AN INDIAN.

Ella raised the torch, and gazed earnestly into the face of Mr.
Mellowtone.

"Father!" exclaimed she, springing into his arms.

I took the torch from her hand, utterly confounded by the scene. I
could not see how Mr. Mellowtone could be the father of Miss Gracewood,
for I knew enough of the customs of society to be aware that the
daughter bore the parent's name. They wept and sobbed in each other's
arms, and I was so touched that I could not help crying, too.

"You are but little changed, Ella," said the father. "Only a little
taller."

He stepped back and gazed at her, as if to note the change which time
had wrought in her.

"And you don't look any older than when we parted; how well I remember
it!" replied Ella, her pretty face lighted up with joy. "Only your
clothes are different."

Mr. Mellowtone wore the costume of the woods--a blue hunting-shirt, or
frock, over pants s