Lone are the paths, and sad the bowers,
    Whence thy meek smile is gone
But oh! a brighter borne than ours,
    In Heaven, is now thine own.’  HEMANS.

We have observed that very few deaths took place in the colony of New Plymouth during the second year of their exile, and after the fatal stroke that deprived them of their President; but among those few, there was one that carried grief and desolation into the hearts of the family with whom our story is chiefly connected, and who were already deeply afflicted by the loss of the first-born.  Ludovico Maitland had always been a delicate child, and on him, consequently, the care and attention of his mother had been principally bestowed.  Helen had watched and tended him through all the severities of the first winters in the New World, and many had been the privations that she had voluntarily endured, unknown even to Rodolph, who would not have suffered her thus to risk her own health, in order to add to the comforts of her youngest and most helpless child.  When the blessed springtime came, and all nature began again to smile, she hoped that Ludovico would also be renovated, and bloom again like the flowers he loved so well.  And her hopes appeared to be realized:  for the sweet playful child resumed his sports, and the bright color again glowed on his soft cheek; and his parents deemed it the hue of health.

At the time when Henrich was stolen away, the little fellow had been remarkably well, and even Helen’s fears for him had almost subsided; but, whether it was the effect of the shock that he sustained when he saw his brother seized by the fierce savages, and torn away from him, and when he fled so breathlessly to tell the fearful tidings; or whether it was merely the result of his own delicate constitution, which could no longer bear up against the change of climate and food—­ from that time, he visibly declined.  It is true he never complained, and his cheerful spirits were unaltered; but the watchful eye of affection could trace the insidious steps of disease in the changing color, and the too frequently brilliant eye.

Since Edith had lost her constant friend and companion, Henrich, she naturally devoted herself more to her younger brother, and little Ludovico became not only her lively play-fellow, but also her intelligent pupil; and the occupation which she found in the care of the engaging child served to divert her mind from the first real grief she had ever known.  Her mother’s sorrow, though borne with the most perfect resignation, had greatly affected her health; and as she had entire confidence in Edith’s steadiness, she was glad to leave the care of Ludovico principally to her, especially when she observed the good effect which the new responsibility had on her spirits.  The two children were, therefore, left much to themselves; and, with their mother’s sanction they passed a great portion of their time at the camp of Mooanam, where they were always most kindly received, and where they made rapid progress in acquiring the language, and also many of the useful and ingenious arts, of their swarthy friends.