ained at the great caravansary, and he was vainly endeavoring
to have at least a note despatched to our address, when the artist, who
had meantime finished his sketch and descended the North Mountain on his
way home, entered the office. He was weary from a toilsome walk under
heavy trappings, but hearing a fellow mortal in distress, and partially
learning the cause, his habitual kindness of heart induced him to say to
the stranger that he was about to walk over to the Laurel House, and
would lead the way, if he chose to follow. The professor, despairing of
his ability to make any more comfortable arrangement, accepted the
offer, and prepared to follow his guide.

'Our foreign visitor was a tall, athletic man, with a noble forehead and
piercing black eyes. His attire was irreproachably neat, his
patent-leather boots rather thin for so rough a walk, especially as he
was just then much out of health, and he carried a heavy basket of
fruit, which he had kindly brought from a tropical clime to give
pleasure to his friends. He added to a generous and affectionate
disposition profound learning in languages, science, and philosophy, and
was a devoted patriot and lover of liberty. He had, however, landed in
New York during the terrible riots of last summer, and had hence imbibed
no very exalted idea of the orderliness of our population. He was of
course totally unaware of the frank confidence placed by man in his
brother man among our Northern mountains.

'When the outside door was reached, the artist paused to gather together
his pointed staff, sketching box, and other _traps_. These implements
were evidently not familiar objects in the professor's experience, as he
supposed they might be part of the gear of a peddler, and hence
conceived a certain distrust of his guide. The artist was tall and
handsome, with a vigorous frame, a long, waving beard, a slouched hat,
and garments rather the worse for much exposure to the suns, winds, and
rains of a summer spent in the open air. One who did not examine the
clear eyes raying the essence of truth, and the high-cut features
bearing the unmistakable impress of manly honor, might perhaps have
erred with the stranger, and have supposed it possible that 'the man'
(as the professor invariably called his guide when he related the
adventure) might be a brigand intent upon luring travellers into byways
for sinister purposes. This idea was strengthened by the character of
the pathway chosen b