"Right away--we have waited too long already. The evening is well along, and we're losing time." The sounds which succeeded showed that the party were moving nearer the river shore, having been standing a few feet off while holding the conversation. Back in the darkness of the wood, Rosa and Ned were invisible, while they were able to catch the outlines of the moving figures when thrown against the dim sky beyond. It was plain that the party meant to use the canoe in which the girl had spent a portion of the afternoon, and which, it was intended, should serve as a vehicle to carry the whites to the other side. The redmen were heard placing the boat in position, and the splash of the paddle was noticed as all took their places, and the oarsman assumed his duty of guiding the craft, burdened to its utmost capacity, across the Susquehanna. Colonel Butler, who had been so talkative a few minutes before, and also accommodating enough to reveal his purposes to those most concerned, seemed to have gone to the other extreme, for nothing more was heard from him. Captain Bagley took upon himself the task of directing the movements of the others, whenever they needed direction. The canoe, with its occupants, left the shore and was impelled into the Susquehanna, heading for the other bank, invisible in the gloom of the night. Before the craft had vanished, however, Ned caught sight of a couple of figures on the bank immediately in front of where he was standing with Rosa. "'Sh!" she whispered, detecting the fact at the same instant; "they have left a couple behind." At this instant one of the forms turned and advanced toward them, the distance being so short that he had taken but a few steps when he arrived. "Did you see them?" he asked, when he was at their side. "See them? Of course we did," replied Rosa, recognizing her brother, "and we heard them, too. They've been standing and talking together right here, close enough for us to hear every word they said." "Well, what did they say?" "It would be hard to tell what they didn't say," replied Rosa, with something of her old spirit of mischief. "Colonel Butler is very sweet on some young rebel, which I am afraid is about my age, and looks very much like me. He has gone across the river to catch me before I can reach Wilkesbarre, but I don't see why he need be in a hurry, for I don't think we'll see that place within a couple of weeks, unless Lena-Wingo gets in more of a hurry than he is now." This "satirical" remark was intended for the ears of the Mohawk, who had approached during the last few seconds, and who did not lose a syllable; but it would have taken more bitter words than ever fell from those sweet lips to stir any resentful feelings in his dusky breast. "Talk much," was the only response he made, thereby uttering a truth which not even the young lady herself would deny. "What else did he say?" asked Jo, referring to Colonel Butler.