They watched the boat, and half an hour afterward saw it approaching the cottage, when they recognized the hawk’s-feathers—the well-known badge of the Mohawks, and they strove in vain to conjecture the cause of their sudden appearance. It gained the landing-place, and to their surprise, there sprang on shore a gentleman, clad in the garb of their own nation. He paused a moment, as if giving some directions to those he left behind, and then advanced rapidly toward the abode of the emigrant. Lord Temple went forth to meet him, and Anna stole a cautious peep at the stranger whom her father had gone to welcome. There was something mysteriously familiar in that stranger’s look, as her father’s greeting fell on his ears, and a faint smile passed over his features; by that smile he was recognized. She had never seen but one like it—it was the same; and she sprang out, exclaiming, “Do you not know him, father! We knew him well in dear old England, and I know him even here! ’Tis Francois Waldo—my old playmate, and teacher, too;” and the next moment they were clasped in each other’s arms—and Anna was shedding the happiest tears that had ever dimmed her eyes, whilst her father looked on in bewildered amazement, scarcely able to determine whether the scene was real, or one of the strange phantasms of slumber. After recovering a little from his astonishment, however, he said, “Whence come you, my son, and how in the world did you discover our hiding-place? Strange! that the first white face which has greeted us since our flight, should be that of a dear old friend! But, tell me—how came you here among the Quakers, as rigid a Puritan as you were educated under our good Lord Protector?” And Lord Temple greeted the new comer with a hearty shake of the hand, accompanied with a significant glance at his own altered attire!