"This way then, madam," replied the lad, leading the way to the woods.
"I have another reason for haste," Sybil explained as they went on. "I know that the court is now in session at Blackville, and that the judge has rooms at the hotel. I know also that the court takes a recess at one o'clock. It is now eleven; if we make moderate haste, we can reach the village in time to find the judge and secure an immediate interview. Do you not think so?"
"Oh yes, madam, certainly."
"Does this path become more difficult as we descend?" inquired Sybil, as they threaded their way along an obscure, disused foot-path, leading down the narrow thickly wooded valley.
"Oh, no, madam, not more difficult, but much less so. It is a very, very gradual descent down to the outlet of the valley. By the way, did you ever observe, Mrs. Berners, how much all these long, narrow, tortuous vales between the spurs of the mountains, and leading down to the great valley, resemble the beds of water-courses emptying into some great river?" inquired the boy artist, looking with interest into the face of his companion.
"Oh yes, and many geologists declare them to have been really such," replied Sybil.
In such discourse as this, they beguiled the hour and a half that they spent in walking down this hidden valley to its opening near the ferry-house, on the Black river, opposite to Blackville.
Here, while waiting for the boat, which was on the other side, Sybil drew her thick black veil closely over her face, and whispered to her companion:
"I would not, upon any account, be recognized until I get before the judge. So I will keep my face covered, and my lips closed. You must make all the necessary inquiries, and do all the talking."
"I will do anything on earth to serve you, lady," replied the lad, lifting his hat.