Before him lay a short reach of open, moonlit glade, then came Dead-Man’s Forest.
Every thing was in perfect repose. In front the dark, somber wood stretched away; behind was the settlement, sleeping on the hill; and around him was the ghostly, quiet glade.
“You are treading on dangerous ground; take care!”
Hallo! who said that in such a quiet, far-away voice? Who spoke? Hallo!
The voice did not reach his ears—he did not hear it; but it spoke for all that. He went on.
He was plunging into the haunted forest; in another moment he would be lost to sight in the ghostly mazes.
“You are treading on dangerous ground; take care!”
He did not hear the warning, and went on. He passed a thick tree in the middle of the wood; a man glided out from behind its trunk; there was a dull, heavy blow, a deep, rattling groan, a fall; and a man was bleeding on the ground in Dead Man’s Forest.
Robert Jeffries returned to his cabin, very much out of humor. His revenge was yet to come; he was forced to wait; and he ground his teeth.
A light was burning in the little cabin when he entered, and Katie was sitting by it, sewing. She looked very sweet and lovely as she sat there, and his heart first softened, then became adamant; let any man insult her—the tenderest, purest girl in the world.