Ralph Boyd began at once the energetic restoration of his property. A few of the old servants had already found their way back, and others, tired of dwelling amid the constant alarms of Indian camps, began to arrive in small bands, as soon as they heard that the proprietor had returned, until nearly the whole of the original force of the plantation was restored to it. Aided by these free and willing workmen, the young planter repaired the great house and numerous outbuildings, cleared and replanted the weed-grown fields, trimmed the luxuriant growth of climbing vines and shrubbery, and, within a few months, could gaze with honest pride over an estate unexcelled for beauty by any in Florida.
In these undertakings Nita tried, for the sake of her friends, to exhibit an interest, and in their presence to appear cheerfully content. With all her efforts, however, she could not conceal the fact that she was pining for her old forest life, and would gladly exchange the luxuries of civilization for the rude camp of her warrior lover, could he but be restored to her. She spent much time, clad in her Indian costume, and roaming the wilder portions of the plantation, mounted on one of those fleet-footed ponies for which Florida was famous, and which were descendants of the old Andalusian stock brought over by De Soto. One of the girl's favorite haunts was the bank of a spring that boiled from a bed of snow-white sand, amid a clump of stately magnolias, about a mile from the great house. Here she would sit for hours, plaiting sweet-scented grasses into graceful shapes, as she had learned to do among the maidens of King Philip's village; but always thinking such sad thoughts that her work was often wet with scalding tears. At such times Ko-ee, as she called her pony, circled about her in unrestrained liberty, nibbling at grasses or leaves, here and there, but always quick to come at her call, and behaving much like a well-trained watch-dog, fully aware of the responsibility of his position.
One mild and hazy afternoon early in the new year, when the weather was of that degree of perfection that it so often attains just before the coming of a "Norther," Nita sat by her favorite spring, and Ko-ee browsed near at hand. All at once the pony uttered a snort, pricked up his delicate ears, and began to move uneasily toward his mistress. As she glanced up from her work, she was filled with terror at the sight of a man standing but a few paces away, and regarding her earnestly. Her first impulse was to fly, and her next was to fling herself into his arms; for in that instant she recognized the brother whom she had not seen since that night of cruel separation nearly four years before.
"Louis!" she cried. "Louis, my brother! Is it you? Are you really alive? I thought you were dead, together with all whom I have ever loved. I knew you had escaped and joined our friends in fighting for their rights and our rights; but they told me you were killed, and I thought I was alone in the world."
NITA SAT BY HER FAVORITE SPRING.
"Even if I had been killed, dear, you would not be alone, so long as Coacoochee is left; for he—"
"Louis! How dare you? He is dead!"
"Dead, sister! Coacoochee dead, when he but now sent me here to find you; when but four days ago I fought by his side in the fiercest and most splendid battle of this war? He was wounded, to be sure, though not seriously; but as for his being dead, he is no more dead than you or I. What could have put such a belief into your mind?"