“I shall not dispute the matter, Judge Temple; this night will I go;
and I invite the company to attend, and then let them decide between
us.”

Richard was busy during most of the afternoon, making his preparations
for the important occasion. Just as the light of the settling sun had
disappeared, and a new moon had begun to throw its shadows on the
earth, the fisher-men took their departure, in a boat, for a point
that was situated on the western shore of the lake, at the distance of
rather more than half a mile from the village. The ground had become
settled, and the walking was good and dry. Marmaduke, with his
daughter, her friend, and young Edwards, continued on the high grassy
banks at the outlet of the placid sheet of water, watching the dark
object that was moving across the lake, until it entered the shade of
the western hills, and was lost to the eye. The distance round by
land to the point of destination was a mile, and he observed:

“It is time for us to be moving; the moon will be down ere we reach
the point, and then the miraculous hauls of Dickon will commence.”

The evening was warm, and, after the long and dreary winter from which
they had just escaped, delightfully invigorating. Inspirited by the
scene and their anticipated amusement, the youthful companions of the
Judge followed his steps, as he led them along the shores of the
Otsego, and through the skirts of the village.

“See!” said young Edwards, “they are building their fire already; it
glimmers for a moment, and dies again like the light of a firefly.”