The aged patriarch of the family bowed his head and was silent. From the broom-corn the gentle voice stole again: Why sings the robin in the wood? For him her music is not shed: Why blind-brook sparkle through the field? He may be dead! he may be dead! The murmur of Miriam's musical lamenting had scarcely died away on the dreamy air, when there came hurrying forward from the garden--where she had been tending the great thanksgiving pumpkin, which was her special charge--the black servant of the household, Mopsey by name, who, with her broad-fringed cap flying all abroad, and her great eyes rolling, spoke out as she approached-- "Do hear dat, massa?" "I hear nothing, Mopsey." "Dere, don't you hear't now? Dey're coming!" With faces of curiosity, and ears erect, they listened. There was a peculiar sound in the air, and on closer attention they discerned, in the stillness of the morning, the jingling traces of the stage-coach, on the cross-road, through the fields. "They are not coming," said old Sylvester, when the sound had died away in the distance; "the stage has taken the other road." "Dat may be, grandfather," Mopsey spoke up, "but for all dey may come. Ugly Davis, when _he_ drive, don't always turn out of his way to come up here. Dey may be on de corner." As Mopsey spoke, two figures appeared on foot on the brow of the road, which sloped down toward the Homestead, through a feathery range of graceful locusts. They were too far off to be distinctly made out, but it was to be inferred that they were travellers from a distance, for one of them held against the light some sort of travelling bag or portmanteau; one of them was in female dress, but this was all they could as yet distinguish. Various conjectures were ventured as to their special character. They were unquestionably making for the Homestead, and it was to be reasonably supposed they were Peabodys, for strangers were rare upon that road, which was a by-way, off the main thoroughfare. The family gathered on the extreme out-look of the balcony, and watched with eager curiosity their approach, which was slow and somewhat irregular--the man did not aid the woman in her progress, but straggled on apart, nor did he seem to address her as they came on. CHAPTER SECOND. ARRIVAL OF THE MERCHANT AND HIS PEOPLE. "It is William and Hannah," said the Patriarch, towering above the household grouped about him, and gaining an advantage in observation from his commanding height, "I am glad the oldest is the first to come!"