“You see, my dear Sybil, how it is: ‘A prophet hath honor except in his own city.’ No one out of the Black Valley thinks of accusing you.”
“All the world might accuse me, so that my own old friends and neighbors would justify me,” said Sybil, sadly.
They passed another night in peace, and the next morning, at daybreak as usual, they breakfasted, and then set out on their fourth and last day’s journey.
Again the map and the pocket compass was called into requisition, and Mr. Berners laid out their route for the day.
Their way lay all that forenoon through the beautifully undulating, heavily wooded, and well-watered country lying east of the Blue Ridge.
As before, they broke their journey by an hour’s repose at noon, and then re-commenced it. And at twelve, midnight, they arrived safely at Norfolk.