"Ha! Winthrop -- glad to see ye! how do you do? Haven't seen your face this great while. Winnie? is it? -- Glad to see ye! She's growed a bit. Come right along into the house -- we'll have something for breakfast by and by, I expect. I didn't know you was here till five minutes ago -- I was late out myself -- ain't as spry as I used to be; -- Come!" -- "Oh Governor, let's go straight home!" said Winnie. "There's time enough yet, Mr. Cowslip, for your purposes. What o'clock do you suppose it is?" "Well, I s'pose it's somewhere goin' on to six, ain't it?" "It has left five. We can breakfast with Karen yet, Winnie." "Oh do, Governor!" "If you'll give us a boat instead of a breakfast, Mr. Cowslip, we will thank you just as much, and maybe take your hospitality another time." "But won't you stop and take just a mouthful first? you'd better." "No thank you. We shall have to take it up there; and two breakfasts a day don't agree with me." With some sorrow on Mr. Cowslip's part, this was submitted to. The boat was got out; Hildebrand dropped into it and took the oars, "guessing he wouldn't mind going himself;" and Winthrop and Winnie sat close together in the stern. Not to steer; for Hildebrand was much too accustomed an oarsman to need any such help in coasting the river for miles up and down. CHAPTER IV. Away, away, from men and towns, To the wild wood and the downs -- To the silent wilderness Where the soul need not repress Its music, lest it should not find An echo in another's mind. SHELLEY. Winnie drew a breath of gratification, as the oars began to dimple the still water and the little boat rounded out from behind the wharf and headed up the river; the very same way by which Winthrop had taken Mr. Haye's two young ladies once long before. The tide was just at the turn, and Hildebrand made a straight run for the rocks. "How pleasant it is to hear the oars again!" Winnie said. Winthrop said nothing.