"She went away to look for you," Matthew replied; "she left a long, long time ago."
Fred could not suppress a painful cry.
"And she didn't come back?" he asked excitedly.
"No," Matthew muttered.
"Then she, too, was captured," Fred explained sorrowfully, "and she is in the hands of the Indians."
"Oh! Oh!" Matthew cried bursting into tears. "What have I done?"
"Be silent now," Fred warned him. "The Indians are following me. Let me briefly tell you how it all came about. I crept up to the place where the boat was hidden, but found it one. There was no noise, and so I thought I was safe. The boat might have slipped down into the stream. I stood up and looked, when suddenly the Indians seized me, tied me, muzzled me, and carried me off up the bank."
Matthew looked at him with dread written all over his face.
"Fred," he said, "you were captured?"
"Yes," the other replied, "I was, and those cowards at once took me into the woods, where quite a large band of Pequots were assembled."