.

"Of how little value are human calculations! Just at that moment, when
we were so sanguine of being able soon to escape from our desert prison,
an event occurred, which rendered that escape altogether impossible--for
years at least, and it might have been, for ever. But I will detail the
circumstance as it happened.

"It was on the afternoon of the fourth day after we had entered the
valley. We had just finished dinner, and were sitting near the fire
watching the two children, Mary and Luisa, as they rolled in joyous
innocence over the smooth green sward. My wife and I were conversing
about the little Luisa--about the unfortunate end of her father and
mother--both of whom, we believed, had fallen victims in the savage
massacre. We were talking of how we should bring her up--whether in
ignorance of the melancholy fate of her parents, and in the belief that
she was one of our own children--or whether, when she had grown to a
sufficient age to understand it, we should reveal to her the sad story
of her orphanage. Our thoughts now reverted, for the first time, to our
own wretched prospects, for these, too, had been blighted by the loss of
our Scotch friend. We were going to a strange land--a land where we
knew no one--of whose language, even, we were ignorant--a land, too,
whose inhabitants were neither prosperous of themselves, nor disposed to
countenance prosperity in others--much less of the race to which we
belonged. We were going, too, without an object; for that which had
brought us so far was now removed by the death of our friend. We had no
property--no money--not enough even to get us shelter for a single
night: what would become of us? They were bitter reflections which we
drew from thinking on the future; but we did not permit them to torture
us long.

"`Fear not, Robert,' said my noble wife, placing her hand in mine, and
looking cheerfully in my face; `_He_ who has guarded us through the past
is not likely to fail us in the future.'

"`Dear Mary,' I replied, roused to new life and energy by her consoling
words, `you are right--you are right--in Him only let us trust.'

"At that moment a strange noise sounded in our ears, coming from the
direction of the forest. It seemed distant at first, but every moment
drew nearer and nearer. It was like the voice of some animal `routing'
from extreme terror or pain. I looked around for the ox. The horse was
in the glade, but his companion was not to be