The chaplain first explored every shantee, fearlessly and with diligence.  Then he descended the rocks, and was lost to view, like those who had preceded him.  A feverish hour passed, without any symptom of human life appearing in the direction of the mills.  Sometimes those who watched, fancied they beheld a smoke beginning to steal up over the brow of the rocks, the precursor of the expected conflagration; but a few moments dispersed the apprehension and the fancied smoke together.  The day advanced, and yet the genius of solitude reigned over the mysterious glen.  Not a sound emerged from it, not a human form was seen near it, not a sign of a hostile assault or of a friendly return could be detected.  All in that direction lay buried in silence, as if the ravine had swallowed its tenants, in imitation of the grave.

Chapter XVIII.

  To deck my list by Nature were design’d
  Such shining expletives of human kind;
  Who want, while through blank life they dream along,
  Sense to be right, and passion to be wrong.

  Young.

The disappearance of Mr. Woods occasioned no uneasiness at first.  An hour elapsed before the captain thought it necessary to relate the occurrence to his family, when a general panic prevailed among the females.  Even Maud had hoped the savages would respect the sacred character of the divine, though she knew not why; and here was one of her principal grounds of hope, as connected with Robert Willoughby, slid from beneath her feet.

“What can we do, Willoughby?” asked the affectionate mother, almost reduced to despair.  “I will go myself, in search of my son—­they will respect me, a woman and a mother.”

“You little know the enemy we have to deal with, Wilhelmina, or so rash a thought could not have crossed your mind.  We will not be precipitate; a few hours may bring some change to direct us.  One thing I learn from Woods’ delay.  The Indians cannot be far off, and he must be with them, or in their hands; else would he return alter having visited the mills and the houses beneath the cliffs.”

This sounded probable, and all felt there was a relief in fancying that their friends were still near them, and were not traversing the wilderness as captives.

“I feel less apprehension than any of you,” observed Beulah, in her placid manner.  “If Bob is in the hands of an American party, the brother-in-law of Evert Beekman cannot come to much harm; with British Indians he will be respected for his own sake, as soon as he can make himself known.”

“I have thought of all this, my child”—­answered the father, musing—­“and there is reason in it.  It will be difficult, however, for Bob to make his real character certain, in his present circumstances.  He does not appear the man he is; and should there even be a white among his captors who can read, he has not a paper with him to sustain his word.”