in the wood there."

"Oh, you would look wild too, father, if you had seen and heard what I
have. Oh, mother! Oh, Julia! you never will believe what I have to tell
you."

"I have something to tell you, too, Mr. Edward," said his mother; "and
as you are out of breath, and out of your wits, I will tell my story
first, which I assure you is quite a romantic little tale to pick up by
the way-side."

"Well, do be quick, mother, if you please, for what I have to say is so
wonderful."

"No doubt; each one always thinks his own wonder the most wonderful. But
I will not try your patience any longer. Do you remember our speculating
on an empty carriage, which we saw drawn up under a tree with a man
standing by it, about half a mile back?"

"Yes, very well--but what of that, mother?"

"It was an idle inquiry about that carriage of the good-natured
communicative blacksmith that led to the story, which I am going to tell
you. It seems that carriage is to convey a young woman to New-York,
whence she sails for France."

"Oh, I saw her--I saw her," exclaimed Edward. "It can be none other."

"Well, Edward," said Mrs. Sackville, "I will give place to you; for I
see you are in such a state of fermentation, that I am afraid your story
will evaporate in exclamations, while I am telling mine."

Edward thus relieved from restriction, proceeded to recount with the
animation of an eye-witness, all he had seen and heard. His audience
listened to him with the most flattering attention, and at the
conclusion, repaid him with exclamations, that proved they were
adequately impressed with the extraordinary scene he had witnessed.

Julia wished he had noticed whether the chief (for thus he had chosen
throughout his narrative to designate his hero) wore moccasins or shoes,
and whether his legs below his mantle, were bare, or covered with
leggins. She thought too, he might just have staid to see whether the
girl made the vow or not: and his mother congratulated him that the
Indians had not executed summary justice on him, and shot him flying for
a spy.

"My story," said Mrs. Sackville, "will serve, Ned, as a sequel to yours,
or rather, an explanation of it. It seems that this young girl, who is a
Miss Bernard, had left the carriage when we saw it, on the pretence of
going to take leave of her mother's sister, who is doubtless the old
woman you saw. You were so fortunate as to discover her real errand. She
is the daughter of a Frenchman--R