"Help!" he cried: Turner must be on this side, and would hear him. "Help!" In vain--twice, already, had he stretched out his hand to a projecting branch, twice had the current's speed sucked him away from under it. Now, again, a saving branch stretched out towards him--with a last exertion of strength, he threw himself upwards and towards it; he clutched the rocking branch which projected far into the river. But, oh! unfortunate wretch, it gave way! it was but a floating reed which had settled there, and that broke in the grasp. The mulatto sank--the waves curled and gurgled above him. He yet clutched the treacherous reed in his hand, and bore it with him into the deep. But there--yet again--as if in the battle of struggling and wrestling life with the silent deep, the dark figure reappeared from its watery grave; yet again it turned its wild defying look up to the bright, silent, friendly moon, that quietly and holily poured down her peaceful light, as well on the passion-torn sons of man, as on the cold, slumbering, earth, and the silver-gleaming stream. Yet again, a wild, blasphemous curse bubbled from the ashen lips of the mulatto, and the convulsed body sank for ever into the unceasingly further-rolling flood, as though nature would no longer suffer that hideous distorted mask to abide further in the wondrous harmony of her forms. Their caution awakened by the flight of the mulatto, the Germans watched their remaining prisoner with the greater attention and care, and the whole of them now retired to Wolfgang's dwelling, partly to pass the remainder of the night there, partly to maintain a fire, beside which the remaining pursuers, whom they also expected to arrive shortly, might warm and refresh themselves. However, hardly had Wolfgang completed the arrangements for the convenience of his guests, before, to the surprise of all, he led out his horse again, and told the men that he was about to ride back to the settlement that very night, to communicate the happy tidings of the result of their hunt to Madame Hehrmann, and relieve her mind, for that the anxiety of the mother for her daughters so shamefully carried off, must be boundless. Pastor Hehrmann at first tried to prevent him, but as he probably was alarmed for his poor wife himself, unless she should shortly receive good tidings concerning her daughters, he ultimately offered himself as a companion, and, notwithstanding Wolfgang positively declined this at first, and affirmed that the pastor stood almost as much in need of rest and care as his daughters, and that they must at all events have a protector, yet the father was not deterred by that. "I leave them to the care of their noble-minded preservers," he said, grasping Werner's hand; "and to-morrow follow us as quickly as you can--we shall await you impatiently."