Meanwhile, I looked in vain for the reptile which had caused this alarm, and finding myself left entirely alone, I concluded to follow the footsteps of the valorous William and his gentle sister. Crossing the stream, and clambering the bank on the opposite side, I found myself in a charming grove of tall young trees of rapid growth. All was still, save the whistle of the robin, or the solitary call of the cat-bird. I wandered along, almost forgetful of the cause which brought me hither, when at the entrance of a thicket of young hazels, seated at the end of a fallen tree, and leisurely employed in stripping the bark from a sapling branch, which he seemed desirous of forming into something resembling a walking stick, I discovered “Our Bill.” Surprised at the quiet in which I beheld him, contrasted as it was with his late trepidation and alarm, I immediately accosted him with enquiries after his sister. “She isn’t far, I guess.” “Do you know where she is?” “Yes.” “I wish to see her.” “Well—stop a bit.” “I want to know if she is not hurt?” “Hurt?—what should hurt her?” “The snake, perhaps.” The boy grinned archly. “Bill,” said I, “what has become of that snake, think you?” “I’m sure I don’t know.” “Do you think there really was any there?” “I’m sartain I cannot tell.” “Well,” said I, advancing, “I shall continue my search till I find Nancy.” The boy started up, and putting his fingers to his mouth, blew a shrill whistle. I looked at him, in order to discover, if I could, the end and aim of this new fantasy. A rustle among the bushes at a little distance was heard. I turned my eyes in the direction of the sound. There was Nancy, and by her side, one of his arms encircling her waist, stood as fine and good-looking a country youth as one would wish to see. They were about parting,—a few more last words—a kiss and then farewell. Nancy came tripping toward the spot where she had left her brother, but on seeing me stopped and looked confused. I hastened to re-assure her; and quickly retracing our steps to the brook-side as a sort of rendezvous, we soon were joined by our companions. So much for the strategy of “Our Bill.” Gathering up our fruit as well as we were able, we pursued our way through the mazes of “Huckle-berry” wood. Bill who had been for some time in advance of our party, now came running toward us announcing our near approach to the house of Betty Nares the fortune-teller. “The fortune-teller—the fortune-teller” was echoed from lip to lip. And, “who will have their fortune told?” was asked of each, by the other.