As perhaps the reader has surmised, the person referred to by the parents and the lovers, had once sought the hand of Marian. He had made his appearance in the village a year or two previous, and gave his name as Tom McGable. Further than this, nothing was known. He professed to belong to the Eastern states, and had no relations or acquaintances in the village. He was a thin, nervous, sharp-featured man, with long Indian hair, dark, restless eyes, and a forbidding cast of countenance. He was a person of awful passions, and was dreaded by all who knew him. Marian turned from his advances with loathing, but he pertinaciously persisted until he was driven from her house. He left, vowing revenge; and rumor shortly after reached the village that he had gone further west and united with the Indians against the whites. There was good reason for this report, as all knew that he was a man who would stop at nothing that might gratify his vindictive feelings. CHAPTER II. THE FATE OF THE FLAT-BOAT. AS was predicted, the storm soon cleared away, and the morning dawned bright and beautiful. Birds were singing and flitting from limb to limb, the water sparkled upon the grass and twigs, and by the time it was fairly light, the whole village was astir. Down in the water, but safely moored to shore, rested a flat-boat, waiting for its living freight, before being loosened from its fastenings. As the commotion in the village increased, numbers commenced wending their way toward the river, and in a short time nearly all stood upon the shore. The majority carried furniture and utensils with them, which, by passing over several planks, were deposited upon the boat. The farewells were now given. There were ten men, seven of whom had wives, besides Marian, so that the entire number was eighteen. With the exception of the latter, these had embarked all of their wealth and possessions upon this perilous undertaking. Marian embraced her parents, received their last advice, and, as she passed over the plank, encountered Mansfield. "Good-by," she said, gayly; "I shall soon expect you." He took her hand, and, holding it a moment, said: "I trust we shall be separated but a short time, dear Marian. I have lain awake all night thinking of this, and I believe there _is_ danger--danger not only upon the river, but after you have reached your destination. You know to whom I refer--and oh! let me beseech you to be careful of exposing yourself. God bless you! Good-by, and may we soon meet again." He wrung her hand, as she passed over the boat; the plank was drawn on board, the fastenings unloosened, and the flat-boat commenced slowly moving with the current. "Good luck to you!" called out Abbot. "Look out for danger; have your eyes open for decoys, and don't, under any pretense, be induced to leave the center of the stream. If you are betrayed, you will have no one to blame but yourselves, for you are now warned."