Imogene peered into the darkness beyond, but in consequence of the intensity of the gloom, was unable to ascertain the cause of her horse’s fear, and vainly endeavored to urge her trembling animal forward, at first, by gentle applications of the whip, and finally by kind words and caresses, but with like success. It was with the utmost difficulty that she succeeded in calming his excitement, and preventing him from dashing headlong into the surrounding woods.
At that moment, the moon, which had been hidden for a short time by a passing cloud, again burst forth, lighting up the surrounding darkness, and by the aid of the few faint beams that struggled through the dense foliage overhead, Imogene perceived a man at a few yards distant, standing on the side of the road, partly concealed behind a tree.
Seeing that he was discovered, he stepped into the middle of the path, as if he desired to speak. He appeared to be advanced in years, with long, flowing, silvery locks, and with little or no beard. His frame was still strong and sinewy, though somewhat bent, apparently both by age and toil. His countenance, however, bore but few traces of either age or suffering, and had quite a prepossessing look, were it not for the expression of his eyes, which were cold and repelling, but with a glance sharp and piercing that seemed to read the inmost secrets of any object on which it was cast.
These organs were nearly concealed by a pair of black, shaggy brows, that ill-accorded with the excessive whiteness of their owner’s hair. The stranger, noticing the anxious and half-affrighted look of Imogene, broke the silence by saying:
“Young lady, be not afraid; I am but a poor, harmless old man who has been traveling nearly the entire day over hill and dale, and am only seeking some fit habitation where I may rest my weary limbs.”
Imogene gazed upon the singular being before her, for some moments in silence, unable to utter a word, so sudden was the shock of his unexpected appearance. Recovering herself at length, she replied:
“For what reason, my good sir, are you, at such an hour in a place so isolated. Do you not fear any danger?”
“I entered these woods to seek shelter from the impending storm which threatened to take place during the earlier part of the evening,” he answered. “As for danger, why should I fear? Who would think of injuring a harmless old man like me? No, no, these freebooters of the road look for higher game than I, in my poverty, could offer!”
These last words were uttered in such a sarcastic tone that Imogene, who had been adjusting her horse’s bridle, looked up with astonishment and bent her penetrating gaze upon the speaker, but seeing his harmless and abject appearance, her features relaxed and softened into a look of pity.
Desiring to terminate the conversation, she said: