“It is only by comparison that they can be true, Winnie, certainly; —­ except in the case of those persons whose power of enjoyment is by some reason or other taken away.”

“But you like that hymn very much?”

“Yes.  Don’t you?”

“I like part of it very much, and I like the tune; but I like to be able to say all the words of a hymn.  How sweet that was!  —­ Governor, don’t you think it would be pleasant to stay here all night?”

“Singing?”

“No —­ but talking, and sleeping.”

“I am afraid it would sadly hinder to-morrow’s talk, and oblige you to sleep instead.”

“Then I’ll go right away.  Do you think we shall be at Wut-a-qut-o in the morning?”

“If the wind holds.”

By Winthrop’s care and management the little cabin was made not absolutely uncomfortable, and Winnie’s bed was laid on the floor between door and window so that she could sleep without being smothered.  He himself mounted guard outside, and sleeping or waking kept the deck for the whole night.

“Governor,” said Winnie cautiously putting her head out at the door, just as the summer dawn was growing into day, —­ “Governor! —­ are we there?”

“We are here.”

“Where?”

“Lying at Cowslip’s Mill.”

“Oh! —­”

The rest of Winnie’s joyous thought was worked into her shoes and dress and bonnet-strings, and put away in her bag with her night-cap.  How fast it was all done! and she pushed open her cabin door and stood on the deck with Winthrop.

Yes —­ there was the green wooded shore —­ how fresh to her eyes! —­ There was Mr. Cowslip’s brown old house and mill; there was the old stage road; and turning, there two miles off lay Shahweetah, and there rose up Wut-a-qut-o’s green head.  And with a sob, Winnie hid her face in Winthrop’s arms.  But then in another minute she raised it again, and clearing away the mute witnesses of joy and sorrow, though it was no use for they gathered again, she looked steadily.  The river lay at her feet and stretched away off up to Shahweetah, its soft gray surface unbroken by a ripple or an eddy, smooth and bright and still.  Diver’s Rock stood out in its old rough outline, till it cut off the west end of Shahweetah and seemed to shut up the channel of the river.  A little tiny thread of a north wind came down to them from Home, over the river, with sweet promise.  And as they looked, the morning light was catching Wut-a-qut-o’s grave head, and then hill-top after hill-top, and ridge after ridge of the high mountain land, till all of them were alight with the day’s warm hues, while all beneath slept yet in the greys of the dawn.  The brother and sister stood side by side, perfectly silent; only Winnie’s tears ran, sometimes with such a gush that it brought her head down, and sobs that could be heard came to Winthrop’s ears.  They stood till they were hailed by the old miller.