Algernon released the speaker’s arm, and for some moments gazed abstractedly upon the ground; while over his countenance swept one of those painful expressions of the deep workings of the soul, to which, from causes known to the reader, he was subject.  At length he said, with a sigh: 

“Well, Isaac, I have come to behold her once again, and then—­”

He paused, apparently overpowered by some latent feeling.

“And then!” said Isaac, repeating the words, with a look of surprise:  “I reckon you arn’t a going to leave us agin soon, Mr. Reynolds?”

“There are circumstances, unknown to you, friend Isaac, which I fear will compel me so to do.”

“What!” cried the other; “start off agin, and put your scalp into the hands of the infernal, ripscallious, painted Injens?  No, by thunder! you shan’t do it, Mr. Reynolds; for sting me with a nest o’ hornets, ef I don’t hang to ye like a tick to a sheep.  No, no, Mr. Reynolds; don’t—­don’t think o’ sech a thing.  But come, go in and see Ella—­she’d be crazy ef she knew you war here.”

“Ay,” answered Algernon, sadly, “that is what I fear.  I dare not meet her suddenly, Isaac—­the shock might be too much for her nerves.  I have sent for you to go first and communicate intelligence of my arrival, in a way to surprise her as little as possible.”

“I’ll do it, Mr. Reynolds; but—­(here Isaac’s voice trembled, his features grew pale as death, and his whole frame quivered with intense emotion)—­but—­but my—­my father—­what—­”

He could say no more—­his voice had completely failed him.

“Alas!  Isaac,” replied Algernon, deeply affected, and turning away his face; “think the worst.”

“Oh God!” groaned Isaac, covering his face with his hands, and endeavoring to master his feelings.  “But—­but—­he’s dead, Mr. Reynolds?”

“He is.”

For a few moments Isaac sobbed grievously; then withdrawing his hands, and raising himself to an erect posture, with a look of resignation, he said: 

“I—­I can bear it now—­for I know he’s in Heaven.  Stay here, Mr. Reynolds, till I come back;” and he turned abruptly away.

In a few minutes Isaac returned—­his features calm, but very pale—­and silently motioned the other to follow him.  On their way to the cottage, they had to cross the common, where their progress was greatly impeded by a crowd of persons, who, having heard of Algernon’s arrival, were deeply anxious to gather what tidings he might have concerning the movements of the Indians.  In reply, he informed them of the threats made by Girty to him while a captive; and that, having since been a prisoner of the British at Detroit, he had learned, from reliable sources, that a grand army of the Indians was forming to march upon the frontiers, attack some stronghold, and, if possible, desolate the entire country of Kentucky; and that he believed they were already on their way.

“More’n that, they’re already here,” cried a voice; “for it’s them, I ’spect, as has attacked Hoy’s Station, of which we’ve just got news, and are gitting ready to march at daylight and attack them in turn.  Arm, boys, arm!  Don’t let us dally here, and be lagging when the time comes to march and fight!”