The settlers of Clontarf’s Post often called at the cabin of the trader, and were kindly received and cared for. But no one had ever been there but what, on leaving, had declared that there was some mystery about Talbott Taft. Madge Taft was a woman of more than ordinary beauty. She was not more than eighteen, judging from her looks, but from the beautiful and perfect development of her form, one would suppose her to be one and twenty. Her eyes were dark, lustrous and brilliant, possessed of an expression that was indicative of a wild, joyful and fearless spirit--such as only a true heroine could possess. Her hair was black and fine as silk, clustering about her head in shapely ringlets. Her complexion was healthful and white as alabaster, and the hues of the rose and lily were blended in her cheeks. Her hands were small, white and shapely, yet no circlets of gold flashed upon her tapering fingers. Few young men, and in fact few old men, upon whose hearts there was no previous claim, ever called at the cabin of Talbot Taft and went away without realizing the fact that they were in love with the trader’s lovely daughter. But of the many whose hearts had been thus captivated but a single one had ever received a friendly notice from the forest beauty. This son of fortune was a well-to-do young man of Clontarf’s Post, named Townsend Farnesworth. His attentions to Madge were encouraged so far as to be permitted to call frequently at the cabin. Early on the morning of the tenth of September, the day set for the camp-meeting at Wildwood lake, Town. Farnesworth called at the cabin of Talbott Taft to accompany Madge to the meeting. He found her awaiting him, and looking more lovely and bewitching than he had ever seen her before. They did not tarry at the cabin, but at once set off for the lake, which was some two miles distant. Their walk through the cool shaded aisles of the forest was pleasant and exhilarating; and they seemed unusually happy in each other’s society, and chatted and laughed as only youthful lovers could have done. Yet neither knew that the other really did love, for no avowal had ever passed their lips. Arrived at the appointed place of meeting, the young people found that they were the first there, and to pass the time as pleasantly as possible, they walked down to the lake shore and seated themselves upon the moss-covered trunk of a fallen tree. Wildwood lake lay before them, calm and placid, resembling a great mirror set in a rustic frame. No object was visible upon its glassy, unruffled surface to break the sameness of the glittering sheet. The lake was perhaps a mile and a half in circumference, and it was bounded nearly all around with tall, frowning rocks, whose white faces were plowed and fluted by the wear of time. Here and there the black mouth of a subterranean vault was visible, partially hidden by creeping vines and tall aquatic plants.