Near a minute had elapsed before he was observed by Ellen, who had buried her face in her hands, to conceal her fancied desolation from herself.
"Why do you not fly ?" the weeping girl exclaimed, the instant she perceived she was not alone.
"I'm not used to it." "My uncle will soon be here! you have nothing to hope from his pity." "Nor from that of his niece, I reckon.

Let him come; he can only knock me on the head!" "Paul, Paul, if you love me, fly." "Alone!--if I do, may I be--" "If you value your life, fly!" "I value it not, compared to you." "Paul!" "Ellen!" She extended both her hands and burst into another and a still more violent flood of tears.

The bee-hunter put one of his sturdy arms around her waist, and in another moment he was urging her over the plain, in rapid pursuit of their flying friends..