She mused sadly, gazing down upon the horse's neck, and hardly seeing or thinking of the way she took. In the mean time, Woodchuck trudged on by her side, with his head erect, his face lifted towards the sky, his pace steady and assured. Edith suddenly and almost unconsciously turned her eyes towards him. There was a tranquil elevation in his countenance, a lofty resolution in his look, which gave her thoughts, in a moment, another direction. She was parting from a well-loved home and cherished associations, with some clouds hanging over her, with some anxieties dogging her path, but with a probability of soon returning, and with many a sweet promise of future happiness. Yet she was sad and downcast. Woodchuck was marching onward, wittingly and voluntarily, to a certain and terrible death; and yet his march was tranquil, firm, and resolute. She felt ashamed of her tears. Nay more, as thought ran on, she said to herself,--
"There is something more in life, something higher, nobler, grander than any human passion, than any mortal enjoyment, than any mere earthly peace, can give--something that comes from Heaven to aid and support us in our struggles here below. My poor companion knows and feels that he is doing his duty, that he is acting according to the commandment of his God; and he is calm and firm in the presence of death, and in the separation from all earthly things. And I--what have I to suffer, what have I to fear, in comparison with him?"
She made a great effort; she shook off her sadness; she wiped the tears from her eyes, and said a few words to Woodchuck in a quiet tone. He answered briefly to her actual words, but then turned at once to the feelings which he believed to be in her heart.
"Ah, Miss Prevost," he said, "it's a sad thing for a young lady like you to part, for the first time, with those she loves when they are going to battle; and I don't know that a woman's heart ever gets rightly accustomed to it. But it don't do to love anything too well in this world--no, not even one's own life. It's a sad stumbling-block, both in the way of our duty and our happiness. Not that I'd have people keep from loving anything. That would never do. They wouldn't be worth having if they couldn't love their friends, and love them very well; but, I guess, the best way is to recollect always, when we've got a thing, that it is but a loan--life itself, all the same as everything else. It's all lent, and all will be recalled; only, you see, my dear young lady, we've got a promise that, if we use what we've had lent to us well, it shall be given to us for ever hereafter, and that should always be a comfort to us. It is to me."
A slight sigh followed his words, and he walked on in silence for a minute or two, probably pursuing the course which he had laid down for himself in his very excellent philosophy, of marching on straight to a high object, and casting from him all thought of the unavoidable sufferings of the way. Soon after, he looked up to the sky, and said,--
"It's getting wonderfully black out there. I should not wonder if we had a flaw of wind and a good soaking rain. I say, Master Chando, put that bear-skin over the young lady's baggage, and hold the horse better in hand, or you'll have him down amongst these stumps. You ride better than you lead, my friend."
The negro grinned at him, but did as he was directed; and, a few minutes after, they issued out of the wood upon a small open space of ground extending over the side of a slight eminence. The view thence was prolonged far to the westward in a clear day, showing some beautiful blue hills at the distance of eight or nine miles. Those hills, however, had now disappeared; and in their place was seen what can only be called a dense black cloud, although those words give a very inadequate idea of the sight which presented itself to Edith's eye. It was like a gigantic wall of black marble, with a faint, white, irregular line at the top. But this wall evidently moved, coming forward with vast rapidity, although, where the travellers were, not a breath of air was felt. On it rushed towards them, swallowing up everything in its own obscurity. Each instant some tree, some undulation of the ground, some marking object in the prospect, disappeared in its deep gloomy shadow; and for a few moments Edith sat still upon her horse, gazing in awe and even in terror. Woodchuck himself seemed for an instant overpowered; but then he caught Edith's rein, and turned her horse, exclaiming,--
"Back, Miss Prevost, back, as fast as possible! That's the blackest cloud I ever see in all my days. There, there, to the east'ard! Get under them big old hemlocks. Keep away from the pines and the small trees. A tree had need to have been fastening to the ground for a hundred years to stand what's coming."
As he spoke, he ran fast on by the side of Edith's horse till they reached the edge of the wood, and there he checked her progress.
"Not too far in; not too far in! You must be ready to jump out if you find that these old fellows begin crashing."