Gazing high into the far away Eternity where all seemed lovely and serene, I said, "Silence is the token of love. Fanny is; yes, she still lives, but she is silent and in her silence she loves me still." Then the stars, hills and trees, like friends, came near and shared with me my troubles, and as I sank upon the ground overcome I thought I was a child again and mother whispered low and sweet, "Love your enemies and Jesus will love you." Resting upon a bed of leaves with my boots for a pillow, the angel of dreams took me in her fair arms. Fanny and I were walking beside a laughing crystal stream, gathering wild flowers, whose fragrance seemed to fill the balmy air, where familiar birds came and warbled sweet notes over our heads while the soft sunshine bore upon the scene, peeping into the shady grove and forming our peaceful nook into a perfect bower of love. Here upon a bank strewn with tiny violets I kneeled at Fanny's feet and asked her to become my wife. She did not speak, but looked on me with her own sweet smile as she glided softly away. I arose to follow her, when I awoke and found myself alone in the dark woods. [Illustration: POOR JIM, LONELY BUT NOT ALONE, FANNIE IS NEAR.] Morning came at last, and not being able to taste my food, I trudged on, and in a few days reached Springfield, where I first assumed the name of James Hall. There I worked about ten days for a man named Anson Newell, but when I learned there were two families there from Salem I feared detection and decided to go. HUNTING FOR BABY I now abandoned the idea of living with the Indians and worked my way over the Green Mountains, then down the Hudson River to New York. During the winter my mind was continually on my baby boy, and when spring came I started East to try to locate him. At Hartford I stayed a few days, hoping to find someone from Casco Bay, but being unsuccessful I went on and spent the night with about thirty Indians in the dark grove south of Wabbaquassett Lake. Here I found a buck and his squaw, who had lived near Casco Bay, but they knew nothing of church affairs. Next morning near Stafford, just as I was turning north from the river bend, I met a party of hunters, one of whom I recognized as Josiah Converse, from near Casco Bay. After passing, I overheard him remark--"That man looks and walks just exactly like Jim Burroughs, and if I did not know he was dead, I would swear it was he." This remark disturbed me, for I had thought that my full beard and shabby clothes had disguised me. Soon I passed near my baby boy but did not know it.