The Indian dropped upon all fours, and entered the passage; and the dog bounded in, in advance of his master.
“Good-by, old home,” said the hermit, taking a last look at the apartment. “Mebbe I’ll come back again, and mebbe I won’t, that’s all.”
The curtain fell and the cave was tenantless.
The underground corridor seemed interminable; but, at last, Oonalooska paused. The end was reached.
It was the noiseless work of a few moments to admit an invigorating current of night-air into the gloomy way, and the Shawnee emerged upon terra firma.
“Now for the river,” whispered Hewitt, throwing himself in advance of the party.
The night was dark around, though many stars twinkled in the blue overhead.
Eudora trod in the hermit’s tracks, and her lover leaned upon the arm of Oonalooska.
At length they stood upon the right bank of the Scioto. It was lined with thick clumps of weeping willows, the leaves of which touched the dark water, causing many faint ripples, that fell ominously upon the ears of the hunted quartette.
The hermit glided from his companions, and, after a long absence, returned with the startling information that his boat was gone!