Four o’clock in the afternoon arrived; and now the happy captain, with his rangers, might soon be expected; when Jane, her preparations all complete, at last issued from her chamber, and announced her intention to walk out upon the prairie and gather some wild flowers. Several of the younger girls proposed to accompany her, but with a smile and a blush she declined their companionship. It was not pressed upon her, for each had a suspicion of her object. The mothers called their daughters aside, and whispered— “She is going to meet the captain—let her go alone.” And, in confirmation of the suspicion, she passed out to the southward and took a path which led in the direction of the road along which the captain was to come. Somewhat more than half a mile from the house stood a little grove, within which she had often met Edgar on his visits to her father’s, and from this point her parents usually saw them approaching the house together. It was to this grove that she went—by a circuitous route, however, so as to justify her excuse for leaving the house, by gathering a few late flowers. She had been absent from the house little more than an hour, when, rounding a “point” of timber, which puts out from the creek about two miles below the farm, a cavalcade of twenty horsemen was seen, and at once recognized as Edgar’s company of rangers. Another body, about equal in number, was seen at the same time several miles to the west, but all attention was now directed toward the south, in expectation of the appearance of the rangers. The elder ladies smiled sedately, in memory of their own youthful days, and prophesied— “He’ll not come with the company—you’ll see Jane and him coming up that path, after awhile.” And the event justified the prediction—at least in part; for, on arriving opposite the little grove Edgar turned off, and directing his companions to ride on, put his horse to a gallop, and was soon within the shadows of the rendezvous. A vine and a fallen tree, together, formed a pleasant seat; and here, when the skies were clear and the sunlight warm, he had often found her awaiting his approach. He sought the old place now, but she was not there! “She must be out soon,” he muttered to himself; and springing to the ground, he assumed the seat which he had expected to find occupied. He was disappointed, and both his face and attitude betrayed it. He leaned his rifle against a tree and threw himself back to wait, patiently as he might, for what was not likely to come had he waited till morning! His eyes wandered vacantly over the scene for some minutes, when, suddenly springing up, he exclaimed— “She has been here and gone away!”