Such was the state of things, when some weeks after the freshet, Mr. Armstrong acquainted his daughter, at the breakfast-table, with his intention to visit Holden that day.

“It is a long time,” he said (four days had elapsed), “since we have seen him, and there are things upon my mind I would gladly speak about.”

A few months before, such a declaration from her father would have suprised Faith, but now she regarded it as quite natural.  The intimacy between the family and the Recluse had become such, and the commanding character of the latter had acquired so great an influence over both its members, that neither of them saw anything strange in the deference paid him.  She, therefore, acquiesced with some common-place remark in the proposal, begging to be remembered to the old man.

Accordingly, after breakfast, Mr. Armstrong walked down to the wharf, thinking it probable he might find some boat going down the river, by which he might be left at the island, intending, should he not find the Solitary there, to go to the Indian settlement.  Nor was he disappointed.  He found a fisherman making preparations to cast off his boat, who cheerfully consented to convey him to the place of destination.  Mr. Armstrong jumped into the boat, and, the wind favoring, they rapidly scudded down the stream.

The fisherman, a fine, frank fellow, of some thirty years of age, to whom Mr. Armstrong was well known, at least, by reputation, although the recognition was not mutual, endeavored to engage him in conversation, but without effect.  Although answering politely any questions, he made no remarks in return, and the conversation soon languished for want of material to support it.  Poor Josiah Sill, finding his social qualities not appreciated, soon himself relapsed into silence, wondering what could induce his companion to seek Holden, and connecting his reserve in some mysterious way with the visit.  Finding the silence not altogether agreeable, Josiah finally burst out with “Yankee Doodle,” which he amused himself with whistling together with some other favorite tunes, until they reached the island.  As they approached they caught a glimpse of Holden entering the house, and Josiah landed his passenger, promising to call for him on his return in the afternoon, though Armstrong expressed a doubt whether he should remain so long.

“If you ain’t here, there won’t be no harm done,” said the good-natured fellow, “and it won’t take a minute to stop.”

Mr. Armstrong having thanked him and wished him success, advanced to the cabin.

He found Holden in the outer room, engaged in his usual employment, when at home, of weaving baskets.  A large quantity of prepared saplings, split very thin, lay scattered around him, while bundles of walnut poles, the crude material of his manufacture, were piled up in the corners ready for use.  With a quick and dexterous hand the Solitary wove in the ribbon-like pieces, showing great familiarity with the work.  Without desisting from his labor, he expressed pleasure at the visit of his friend, and requested him to be seated.