Suddenly a canoe appeared, and in it a hideous old squaw, who approached the shore, and stretching out a long bony hand drew her away from her mother's side, and in spite of her terror made her step into the frail boat, which instantly flew down the stream into the darkest and wildest of the storm.

She stretched out her arms for help--Percy stood still upon the bank, as if anxious but unable to give it--Maurice waved his hand to her, and turned away.

She seemed to know that he was deserting her for ever, and in an agony of fear and sorrow she gathered all her strength to call him back.

The effort woke her.

She lay trembling, with tears of agitation pouring from her eyes, while the storm which had mingled with her dream raged furiously round the Cottage.
Morning came at last, dim and dreary.