Grant, to whom Pownal and Bernard were both known, invited the little party to take a sail with him, assuring them there was no danger. The invitation was at once accepted by Miss Bernard, though the more timid Faith hesitated, and the four took their seats. The group of persons, as before observed, were at the head of the Severn, and the wind was drawing up the river, it was, therefore, necessary, to beat against the wind at starting. To the surprise, in particular of the ladies, this was done with the most perfect ease, the vessel, on her sharp runners, making but little lee-way, and obeying her helm more readily than any boat in water. Indeed, obedience was instantaneous. She whirled round as quickly as one could turn one's hand, requiring promptness and presence of mind in the steersman. Thus, like a bird, with smooth and equable motion, she flew with her delighted passengers, in many a zig-zag, down the Severn, until they had gone as far as desired, when round she spun, and before the breeze, houses, and men, and trees, gliding by as in a race, dashed up to the starting point. Upon leaving the ice-boat, the eyes of Pownal discovered the tall form of Holden, in the midst of a group of persons whom he appeared to be addressing; and upon his mentioning the circumstance to the others, it was proposed to join him. Accordingly, they added themselves to his audience. Several large baskets were lying near him on the ice, and so engaged was he in his subject that he took no notice of the approach of his four young friends. The address was not without a burst or two of eloquence, springing out of the intense conviction of the speaker, and was listened to respectfully enough. Not that a convert was made; not that there was a person present who did not regard his notions as the hallucinations of a disturbed intellect, but a part of the bystanders esteemed and respected him as a man of noble and generous disposition, lavish of his small means towards those whom he considered poorer than himself, and never faltering in any act of kindness on account of hardship or privation; while the rest, as already intimated, felt a sort of awe in his presence from the mystery that surrounded him. Among the spectators was our old friend, Tom Gladding, leisurely engaged in whittling out a chain from a pine block, some twelve inches in length, from which he had succeeded in obtaining three or four links that dangled at its end, and listening with a comical expression, as if he were anticipating some fun. The Enthusiast had hardly concluded his exhortation before Basset, who stood on the outside of the ring during its delivery, stepped forward, and placing his hand on Holden's shoulder, informed him he was his prisoner. Holden made no resistance, but drawing himself up to his full height, and fastening his eyes sternly on the constable, he demanded: "What art thou?" "My name is Barnabas Basset," answered the constable, a little embarrassed.