Then she rose quickly and went on tiptoe to the tent-door. Her hand trembled a little as she touched the canvas gently--so gently that it scarcely stirred. She held her breath, she put her eye to the partition, she looked out and saw---- Mr. Fisher's little black dog! Tom was awakened by a long, merry laugh that rang out like a bell on the still night air, and echoed through the forest. He thought Gypsy must be having another fit of somnambulism, and Sarah jumped up, with a scream, and asked if it wasn't an Indian. The night passed without further adventure, and the morning sun woke the girls by peering in at a hole in the tent-roof, and making a little round golden fleck, that danced across their eyelids until they opened. They were scarcely dressed, when Tom's voice, with a spice of mischief in it, called Gypsy from outside. The girls hurried out, and there he sat with Mr. Hallam, before a crackling fire over which some large fresh trout were frying in Indian meal. "Oh, why didn't you let us go, too?" said Gypsy. "We took the time while you were asleep, on purpose," said Tom, in his provoking fashion. "Nobody can do any fishing while girls are round." "Tom doesn't deserve any for that speech," said Mr. Hallam, smiling; "and I shall have to tell of him. It happens that I caught the fish while a certain young gentleman was dreaming." "O--oh, Tom! Well; but, Mr. Hallam, can't we go fishing to-day?" "To be sure, you can." "How long do you suppose you'll stand it?--girls always give out in half an hour." "I'll stand it as long as you will, sir!" Tom whistled. The trout were done to that indescribable luscious point of brown crispness, and the breakfast was, if possible, better than the supper. After breakfast, they started on a fishing excursion down the gorge. It was a perfect day. It seemed to the girls that no winds from the valley were ever so sweet and pure as those winds, and no lowland sunshine so golden. The brook foamed and bubbled down its steep, rocky bed, splashed up jets of rainbow spray into the air, and plunged in miniature cascades over tiny gullies; the wet stones flashed in the light upon the banks, and tall daisies, peering over, painted shifting white outlines of themselves in the swelling current and the shallow pools; here and there, too, where the water was deep, the fish darted to the surface, and darted out of sight. "Isn't it _beau_--tiful!" cried Sarah. "Pretty enough," said Gypsy, affecting carelessness, and trying to unwind her line in as _au fait_ and boyish a manner as possible. "You girls keep this pool. Mr. Hallam and I are going a little ways up stream," said Tom. "Now don't speak a word, and be sure you don't scream if you catch a fish by any chance between you, and frighten them all away."