"I will embark on one of the rivers." "And where will you land?" "I have not the slightest idea. But there, do not be uneasy, I shall find a place." "Then," said Samuel, gazing at him with perfect amazement in his looks, "you are determined?" "I am determined." "Then, as we shall never meet again, come and spend a few days at my house," urged Samuel. "I am very sorry to decline, but I cannot go back. If I were to waste a day, it would be a serious loss of time and money. I must reach my new settlement in time for the sowing." Samuel Dickson, putting his hands behind his back, walked across the room with great strides, backwards and forwards, watching his niece curiously under his eyes. He several times struck the ground with his riding whip, muttering to himself all the time. Diana sat with her hands crossed on her knees, the teardrops falling from her eyes. Suddenly the farmer appeared to have made up his mind. Turning round, he laid his heavy hand on his brother's shoulder. "Joshua!" he said, "It is clear to me that you are mad, and that I alone in the family possess any common sense; never, God forgive you, did more crooked notion enter the head of an honest man. You won't come to my house? Very good. I will then ask you one thing, which, if you refuse, I shall never forgive you." "You know how much I love you." "I know you say so; but this is the favour I ask: don't start until you see me again." "Hem! But--" "I must get home on important business at once. My house is but twenty miles distant; I shall soon be back." "But when?" cautiously asked the emigrant. "Tomorrow, or the next day at the latest." "That is a long delay," continued Joshua. "I do not deny it. But as your paradise, your El Dorado, your beautiful country will not probably run away, you are bound to reach it sooner or later. Besides," urged Samuel, "it is important, very important, we should meet again." "As you will, my brother," sighed Joshua; "I give you my word to wait until the day after tomorrow at seven o'clock in the morning--no later." "That will suit me admirably," cried the farmer; "so good-bye for the present." And with a bow to all, and a smile to Diana, he hurried out of the room. The crowd still patiently surrounded the inn and received him with a loud shout. He, however, took no notice, but rode off. "We could not very well refuse, Susan," said the farmer to his wife. "He is your brother," she replied. "Our only relative," murmured Diana. "True. Diana is right. Children, unharness the animals: we will stop here tonight." And, to the great surprise of the gaping crowd, who hung about after the fashion of idlers, the horses of the emigrants were unyoked and taken to a shed, the waggons placed under cover, without the curious knowing the reason why.