Joe loaded himself with a great basket filled with provisions for the journey.
And together they all set forth from the Haunted Chapel. It was a clear, cold, starlight night. The gravestones in the old church-yard glimmered gray among the brushwood, as the fugitives picked their way through it.
When they reached the narrow path leading through the thicket, they had to walk in single file until they emerged from the wood and found themselves upon the old road running along the river bank. Here the wagon with a pair of draught horses was waiting them.
Their luggage was put in on top of bags of potatoes, turnips, etc., with which the back part of the wagon was loaded. Then Captain Pendleton assisted Sybil to mount to a seat made by a low-backed chair with a woolen counterpane thrown over it. Lyon Berners got up into the driver’s place. All being now ready for the start, Captain Pendleton and Joe come up to the side of the wagon to bid farewell to the travellers.
“Heaven bless you, Pendleton, for your faithful friendship and zealous labors in our behalf,” said Mr. Berners, warmly shaking the Captain’s hand.
“Amen, and Amen! We shall never forget, and never cease to thank and bless you, dear friend,” added Sybil, with tears in her eyes, as she gave him her hand.
“May the Lord grant you a safe journey and a quick return,” said Clement Pendleton, as he pressed the lady’s hand and relinquished it.
“And I sez Amen to that! Oh, Marser! Oh, Missus! come back to your poor old Joe soon! His heart will snap into ten thousand flinders, if you don’t!” sobbed the poor negro, as he shook hands with his young master and mistress.
Then with a mutual “God be with you,” the four friends parted.
Captain Pendleton, sighing, and Joe, weeping, bent their steps up the banks of the river towards the fording place, where they would have to cross to find their horses on the other side.