"Fear nothing; my sister fondles her infant, and she thinketh not of flight; thou seest I am here to intercept her, were such her intention. Now speak with candor, Martha, and say if thou meanest in sincerity that the visits of the Hartford gallant, were less to thy liking than most of thy friends have believed?"
"What I have said cannot be recalled."
"Still it may be repented of."
"I do not number the dislike I may feel for the young man among my failings. I am too happy, here, in this family, to wish to quit it. And now that our sister----there is one speaking to her at this moment, Mark!"
"Tis only the innocent," returned the young man, glancing his eye to the other end of the piazza. "They confer often together. Whittal hath just come in from the woods, whither he is much inclined to pass an hour or two, each evening. Thou wast saying that now we have our sister--?"
"I feel less desire to change my abode."
"Then why not stay with us for ever, Martha?"
"Hist!" interrupted his companion, who, though conscious of what she was about to listen to, shrunk, with the waywardness of human nature, from the very declaration she most wished to hear, "hist--there was a movement. Ah! our Ruth and Whittal are fled!"
"They seek some amusement for the babe--they are near the out-buildings. Then why not accept a right to remain for ever----"
"It may not be, Mark," cried the girl wresting her hand from his grasp; "they are fled!" Mark reluctantly released his hold, and followed to the spot where his sister had been sitting. She was, in truth, gone; though, some minutes passed before even Martha seriously believed that she had disappeared without an intention of returning. The agitation of both rendered the search ill-directed and uncertain, and there was perhaps a secret satisfaction in prolonging their interview even in this vague manner, that prevented them for some time from giving the alarm. When that moment did come, it was too late. The fields were examined, the orchards and out-houses thoroughly searched, without any traces of the fugitives. It would have been useless to enter the forest in the darkness, and all that could be done in reason, was to set a watch during the night, and to prepare for a more active and intelligent pursuit in the morning.