Woodcock shook his head, arose from his seat, placed his
girl upon the bench, and then, taking his gun, opened the
door and retired from the house. The charm was broken—
the hallowed and hallowing influence dissipated. The tran-
sition to his old feeling of hardness and half-regretful
defiance was accompanied by a sigh as painful as it was
profound, and by the characteristic exclamation, " It's no
use."

Mr. Moxon waited, before proceeding, for the restoration
of silence, but order and attention were not secured for
some minutes. Both Mr. Pynchon and Mary understood
and appreciated the cause of Woodcock's withdrawal, and
felt disturbed. Peter Trimble's curiosity was very much
aroused. Bending down in a mock effort to fix his shoe,
he exclaimed to the victim at his side, in a low whisper,
" Indians !"

The boy was instantaneously and involuntarily on his
feet, his neck stretched up, looking out of the window.
Down came the long stick of Henry Smith upon his head,
and down came the boy. The stick was so near to Peter
that his ghmpse of the cobweb was this time extremely
brief and uncertain.
As soon as the sermon had begun to attract serious atten-
tion, Peter made another errand to his shoe, and whispered,
"What did you see?"

" Stars," replied the boy, unconscious of anything but his
last impression.
This reply came near proving too much for Peter's
gravity, and it was a long time before he could command
himself with sufficient confidence to raise his head.
