husband’s wish of taking Henrich on the hazardous expedition; and his being of the party had greatly increased the anxiety and uneasiness which Rodolph’s absence always caused her.  As the days passed on, this anxiety became greater; and visions of fatal encounters with the savages beset her naturally timid mind.  Daily therefore she left her hut, and wrapped in the mantle of fur with which her husband had provided her before he brought her to brave a North American winter, she paced backwards and forwards on the beach, looking out over the dark waters, and lifting her heart in prayer for the safe and speedy return of the wanderers.  Edith and Ludovico accompanied her but they could not share her anxiety.  They looked, indeed, with eagerness for the expected boat which was to bring back their much-loved father and brother; but they soon forgot the object of their search, and amused themselves by climbing the rocks, and gathering the shells which the wintry waves now cast up in abundance.

They were thus engaged when Edith happened to glance to the south and saw the long desired coming round a little promontory that concealed it from her mother as she walked below.  In an instant the treasure of shells and seaweed was forgotten, and little Edith was bounding down to the beach, followed by Ludovico.

‘The boat mother, the boat!’ she eagerly exclaimed, as she pointed in the direction in which it was approaching; and in another moment she and her little brother were at Helen’s side, and all hastening to the landing-place—­that very granite rock on which they had first disembarked on the American shore.  The boat came rear; and as soon as the crew perceived Helen and the children on the rock, they raised a hearty cheer to tell her that all was well.  She saw her husband standing on the prow, and her heart bounded with joy; but she looked for Henrich, and she did not see him, and fear mingled with her joy.  A few more strokes of the oars, and the boat glided up to the rock, and Rodolph leaped on shore, and embraced his wife and children.

‘Heaven be praised! you are safe, my Rodolph,’ exclaimed Helen.  ’But where is Henrich?—­where is my boy?’

’He also is safe, Helen.  His life is preserved; but he is wounded, and unable to come from the boat to meet you.  Bear up,’ he added, seeing that she trembled violently, while the tears flowed down her blanched cheeks ’you need not fear:  the brave boy is maimed, indeed, but I trust not seriously injured.  He is weak from loss of blood, and must not be agitated; therefore meet him cheerfully, and then hasten to make the arrangements for his comfort that your scanty means will permit.’

Helen dried her tears, and forced, a smile to greet her wounded child, who was now being lifted from the bottom of the boat, and gently carried on shore by two of the men.  His pallid countenance, and blood-stained garments, struck a chill to her heart; but she concealed her grief, and silenced the sobs and exclamations of the warm-hearted little Edith and her terrified brother; and then, having affectionately welcomed the almost fainting boy, she hurried away with the children to prepare for his reception in the comfortless log-hut.