Rathfelder's Hotel

by Annie E. Bosworth

"If you are resolved to remain there, Charlotte," I exclaimed, "I cannot of course prevent you—I can't move you against your will—but you cannot expect me to second such a folly, nor will I. I shall leave you at once and try to find my way back, and then uncle will come and bring you home if I succeed in reaching it myself."

"You will do nothing of the kind," cried Charlotte, passionately. "If you dare, Mechie, I will never forgive you. How can you think of anything so wicked? I tell you I am tired to death and frightened to death, and quite unable to walk a step farther. If we stay here, they will be able to find us, but if—"

Charlotte stopped abruptly, for a rustling in the bushes a little distance on our right caused even my heart to bound with terror. We both strained our eyes in the direction of the sound.

"Look there! what's that? Oh, what's that?" gasped Lotty, pointing to a dark spot under a bush.

"Where? what?" I panted out, scarce able to breathe.

"There! don't you see it," she continued in a shuddering whisper and grasping my arm convulsively, "lying down there, crouching?"

I did see it, and felt more terrified than I had ever been in my life before. I saw the dark form of some large animal; and now it was partly raising itself, and gazing at us with great glittering eyes, distinguishable even in the gloom.

"I don't know! come on! oh, come on! quick! quick!" I exclaimed under my voice.

Charlotte, springing up instantaneously, caught my hand and tore away, dragging me after her. But one feeling guided us—to fly from the monster, whatever it was, regardless alike of impediments or course. Having run a considerable distance, suddenly, to our unbounded joy, we found ourselves opposite the very gate leading into the field we had before passed through. Scrambling over it, we now stood a minute leaning against the bars, breathless and panting, to see if we were pursued.

At this part of the Flats there was a large space free of bushes and underwood, and consisting only of sandy turf and innumerable small flowers. Nothing following us was visible as yet, but Lotty suggested the probability of its stealing round through the underwood; therefore we once more grasped each other's hand, and ran for our lives down the field to the bridge. Here we halted, for an obstacle presented itself to our proceeding which we had as little anticipated as any of the foregoing. Happily, we could clearly perceive over the open field that no animal of any kind was in pursuit. All was thus far safe, and requesting Charlotte to join me in heart in thanking the Almighty for having preserved us through we knew not what of peril, we set to work to surmount this last difficulty, namely, crossing the plank over the brook. A thick belt or line of low trees skirted the bank on the eastern side of the river, as this stream was called, and their shade, in conjunction with the fading daylight, so obscured the little rustic bridge as to render the walking across a very critical if not hazardous undertaking. The water was not deep, certainly, but the height from the plank to the bed was sufficiently great to cause us serious injury, perhaps, were we to miss our footing and fall. "What are we to do now?" I said, after contemplating the depth and darkness of the way with a thoroughly perplexed, but, I must confess, a rather amused, feeling. We were so near home now that my anxiety about aunt and uncle was considerably allayed, and our present position had, in my opinion, something irresistibly comical in it.