was as I had thought, abandoned; and yet as I looked about in the dim light it had the air of being used, but by vagrants it might be, or outlaws. To this, however, I did not give a thought, for my mind was full of the past, and with such excess of sorrow that scalding tears burned my cheeks as I stood motionless where I entered. The desolation of the place and its stillness, as of death, filled my sorrowing heart to overflowing. Before me, as in the days that had passed, I saw my father and mother, and kneeling in tender care of her, La Reine; Black Hawk, too, stern and threatening, stood at my elbow! and then again on the broad river, with face upturned, in regret of life and scorn of his enemies! and still again bearing my mother tenderly to his hut! Alas! it was but a vision, and where they had been only solitude and desolation now reigned. Thus I stood grieving, until my tears being wasted, I set about to find, if I might, some memento that I could take away in remembrance of the dear ones who were gone. Alas! even the worn bow, relic of other days, that I hoped still to find, it too was gone. Searching vainly in the darkened room, I finally turned in despondency of spirit to retrace my steps; but while my hand was on the latch, and I stood looking back in vain regret, the voices of men reached me from without. Alarmed, and remembering the cabin in Murderer’s Hollow—for such things one does not easily forget when young—I stopped and listened. As I did so, and as if to give the thought reality, the soft voice of Burke reached me, coming toward the door behind which I stood. Frightened, and yet having some control over myself, I looked about for a place of concealment, and doing so, caught sight of the darkened room from which Black Hawk had taken the oaken paddle. Hastening thither, I had barely reached its welcome shade when Burke entered. Finding no exit, nor indeed having time to search for one, I crouched down in an angle of the little room, scarce breathing for the fear that laid hold of me. Lying quiet, my heart beat aloud and with such strokes that Burke must surely have heard had he listened; but unsuspecting, he did not cease speaking to the man who followed. At first I did not much regard what was said, expecting each moment to be discovered and dragged to the light; but of search they seemed not to think, believing the cabin tenantless as before. Thus left alone, I quickly recovered myself, so that, whether I would or no, I could not but hear what they said. "You have better quarters here than in the old place," Burke’s companion at last exclaimed, "though they are as gloomy as the portals of the infernal regions!" "Yes, yes; and such places are the best for my trade. I don’t spend much time here, though. I’ve learned that it’s less dangerous in the forest," Burke replied.