He waited a moment, and then the gentler side of his nature triumphed.

He bent over the forms, kissed each in turn, straightened up, and pointing to the eastward, said to Ben--"Go dat way--you safe--goodbye." "Goodbye," replied the lad, knowing it was useless to protest.
Like the gliding of the shadow of a cloud, the Delaware passed beyond the circle of light thrown out by the fire into the deep gloom of the wood.

The moccasins pressed the dry leaves without giving back any sound, and he vanished.
"That makes a change of situation," was the conclusion of Ben Ripley; "he's gone, and I become the general of this army; there's no telling what danger may be abroad tonight, so I will keep my eyes open till sunrise, to make sure that no harm comes to these folks." And ten minutes after this decision the lad was as sound asleep as his mother and the two little ones.
But there was One who did not slumber while all were unconscious.

He ever watches over His children, and,--though there were many perils abroad that night, none of them came near our friends.
The camp fire which had been burning so brightly grew dimmer and lower until the figures could hardly be seen.

They gradually became more indistinct, and finally the gloom was as deep as anywhere in the dense woods.