hy roots of an uptorn
tree, gazed earnestly at the desolate man. The morning sun was
unclouded, and the trees and shrubs imbibed the sweet air of the month
of May; yet there seemed a gloom on Nature's face, as if she
sympathized with mortal pain and sorrow Roger Malvin's hands were
uplifted in a fervent prayer, some of the words of which stole through
the stillness of the woods and entered Reuben's heart, torturing it
with an unutterable pang. They were the broken accents of a petition
for his own happiness and that of Dorcas; and, as the youth listened,
conscience, or something in its similitude, pleaded strongly with him
to return and lie down again by the rock. He felt how hard was the doom
of the kind and generous being whom he had deserted in his extremity.
Death would come like the slow approach of a corpse, stealing gradually
towards him through the forest, and showing its ghastly and motionless
features from behind a nearer and yet a nearer tree. But such must have
been Reuben's own fate had he tarried another sunset; and who shall
impute blame to him if he shrink from so useless a sacrifice? As he
gave a parting look, a breeze waved the little banner upon the sapling
oak and reminded Reuben of his vow.

. . . . . . . . . . .

Many circumstances combined to retard the wounded traveller in his way
to the frontiers. On the second day the clouds, gathering densely over
the sky, precluded the possibility of regulating his course by the
position of the sun; and he knew not but that every effort of his
almost exhausted strength was removing him farther from the home he
sought. His scanty sustenance was supplied by the berries and other
spontaneous products of the forest. Herds of deer, it is true,
sometimes bounded past him, and partridges frequently whirred up before
his footsteps; but his ammunition had been expended in the fight, and
he had no means of slaying them. His wounds, irritated by the constant
exertion in which lay the only hope of life, wore away his strength and
at intervals confused his reason. But, even in the wanderings of
intellect, Reuben's young heart clung strongly to existence; and it was
only through absolute incapacity of motion that he at last sank down
beneath a tree, compelled there to await death.

In this situation he was discovered by a party who, upon the first
intelligence of the fight, had been despatched to the relief of the
survivors. They conve