“Brother must be much better than he was,” the girl observed, as they hurried on, “for he has not once been into the shed to look at the barrels!  Before he went into the openings, he never entered the house without drinking; and sometimes he would raise the cup to his mouth as often as three times in the first half-hour.  Now, he does not seem even to think of it!”

“It may be well that he can find nothing to put into his cup, should he fall into his old ways.  One is never sure of a man of such habits, until he is placed entirely out of harm’s way.”

“Gershom is such a different being when he has not been drinking!” rejoined the sister, in a touching manner.  “We love him, and strive to do all we can to keep him up, but it is hard.”

“I am surprised that you should have come into this wilderness with any one of bad habits.”

“Why not?  He is my brother, and I have no parents—­he is all to me:  and what would become of Dorothy if I were to quit her, too!  She has lost most of her friends, since Gershom fell into these ways, and it would quite break her heart, did I desert her.”

“All this speaks well for you, pretty Margery, but it is not the less surprising—­ah, there is my canoe, in plain sight of all who enter the river; that must be concealed, Injins or no Injins.”

“It is only a step further to the place where we can get a lookout.  Just there, beneath the burr-oak.  Hours and hours have I sat on that spot, with my sewing, while Gershom was gone into the openings.”

“And Dolly—­where was she while you were here?”

“Poor Dolly!—­I do think she passed quite half her time up at the beech-tree, where you first saw her, looking if brother was not coming home.  It is a cruel thing to a wife to have a truant husband!”

“Which I hope may never be your case, pretty Margery, and which I think never can.”

Margery did not answer:  but the speech must have been heard, uttered as it was in a much lower tone of voice than the young man had hitherto used; for the charming maiden looked down and blushed.  Fortunately, the two now soon arrived at the tree, and their conversation naturally reverted to the subject which had brought them there.  Three canoes were in sight, close in with the land, but so distant as to render it for some time doubtful which way they were moving.  At first, the bee-hunter said that they were still going slowly to the southward; but he habitually carried his little glass, and, on levelling that, it was quite apparent that the savages were paddling before the wind, and making for the mouth of the river.  This was a very grave fact; and, as Blossom flew to communicate it to her brother and his wife, le Bourdon moved toward his own canoe, and looked about for a place of concealment.