evealed. That evening there was sadness at Colonel Zane's
supper table. They felt the absence of the Colonel's usual spirits,
his teasing of Betty, and his cheerful conversation. He had nothing
to say. Betty sat at the table a little while, and then got up and
left the room saying she could not eat. Jonathan, on hearing of his
brother's recapture, did not speak, but retired in gloomy silence.
Silas was the only one of the family who was not utterly depressed.
He said it could have been a great deal worse; that they must make
the best of it, and that the sooner Isaac married his Indian
Princess the better for his scalp and for the happiness of all
concerned.

"I remember Myeerah very well," he said. "It was eight years ago,
and she was only a child. Even then she was very proud and willful,
and the loveliest girl I ever laid eyes on."

Alfred Clarke staid late at Colonel Zane's that night. Before going
away for so many weeks he wished to have a few more moments alone
with Betty. But a favorable opportunity did not present itself
during the evening, so when he had bade them all goodbye and
goodnight, except Betty, who opened the door for him, he said softly
to her:

"It is bright moonlight outside. Come, please, and walk to the gate
with me."

A full moon shone serenely down on hill and dale, flooding the
valley with its pure white light and bathing the pastures in its
glory; at the foot of the bluff the waves of the river gleamed like
myriads of stars all twinkling and dancing on a bed of snowy clouds.
Thus illumined the river wound down the valley, its brilliance
growing fainter and fainter until at last, resembling the shimmering
of a silver thread which joined the earth to heaven, it disappeared
in the horizon.

"I must say goodbye," said Alfred, as they reached the gate.

"Friends must part. I am sorry you must go, Mr. Clarke, and I trust
you may return safe. It seems only yesterday that you saved my
brother's life, and I was so grateful and happy. Now he is gone."

"You should not think about it so much nor brood over it," answered
the young man. "Grieving will not bring him back nor do you any
good. It is not nearly so bad as if he had been captured by some
other tribe. Wetzel assures us that Isaac was taken alive. Please do
not grieve."

"I have cried until I cannot cry any more. I am so unhappy. We were
children together, and I have always loved him better than any one
since my mother died. To have hi