Joshua was one of those men who, without being deceitful, was very reticent, and never told his thoughts. Diana, like a true heroine, traversed the faintly traced paths which led to her uncle's house, a hunting knife in her belt, and light gun in her hand. For further safety she was accompanied by Dardar, a large black and white dog, something between a wolf and a Newfoundland, terribly ferocious, and of mighty strength, as tall as a good-sized donkey, and who would have tackled a bear in defence of his mistress, whom he obeyed with the docility of a child. With such a guardian Diana had nothing to fear from man or beast; moreover, the country was too little known to the squatters to allow a young girl to go out quite unprotected in the country, however short the distance. Contrary to her usual mood, the young girl was quite joyous; her freedom, which allowed her to give free vent to her thoughts, had driven away the tinge of sadness which generally clouded her beautiful face. She went along careless and dreaming through the fields, playing with Dardar, who, proud of the charge he was set to guard, ran wildly before her, dashing into the bushes and thickets with an intelligent glance that was almost human. The young girl soon reached the river, where a kind of ferryboat had been provided by means of which to cross the river, here neither broad nor deep. In a few minutes Diana was across and within sight of her uncle's residence. Inside the log hut, which was extensive, were seated two men, with a bottle of whisky before them. These were Samuel Dickson himself and George. Two horses, still saddled and smoking, were fastened in the court. They must have been on a long journey. "You are a pretty fellow to make me gallop about in this way in search of you. I am not very handsome, but I am not ugly enough to frighten you." "I simply did not see you." "No nonsense. Do you think to keep me in ignorance of your motive in coming this way?" The young man blushed deeply. "Do you know my brother Joshua?" asked Samuel. "I met him once or twice in Boston, but I do not think he ever noticed me," said George Clinton. "Shall I introduce you to him?" said Samuel. "He has his faults, but he is a very worthy man." "I don't think it would be wise just now." "I don't think," continued the American, "that you have waited to be introduced to my niece." "Sir," cried the young man, dropping his glass. "Ah, ah!" cried the American, laughing, "That is the way you break my crockery. These lovers, these lovers. Do you think to cheat an old opossum like me? You love my pretty niece, which is very natural; you are a good fellow, and together will make an excellent couple." "I regret to say it cannot be so," sighed George. "Why so?" cried Samuel. "I see you are so good, I can no longer refuse to enlighten you." "That is right. Confess, for I am your true friend."