"Run, missie, run," cried Zed, "down the back stairs, out into the wood. I will keep them here some time--I hear them coming up stairs--run, run!" Half carrying, half leading, I drew her to the door opening to the little staircase, making Zed a sign to follow; but he shook his head, and, just as I passed through the door with Bessy, I heard him say, "Won't hurt me. What's a poor black man's life worth?" I hurried Bessy down stairs as fast as possible, feeling tempted, I will admit, to lock the door behind us, for the key was in the lock on the outside, few persons thinking it worth while at that time in Virginia to take what seemed the unnecessary precaution of fastening their doors. But I thought of poor Zed, and I refrained. The pantry-hall was quite vacant and very dark, so that we had to feel our way through; but, as we passed, I heard voices speaking loudly above, and what seemed to me the blows of an axe upon a door. At length we reached the open air of the stable-yard, over which the sinking moon was throwing her pallid light. Before us, at the distance of some sixty or seventy yards, were two of the women servants flying in terror, and one of them dropped a cloak which was over her shoulders, made a snatch at it from the ground, but ran on without recovering it on seeing Bessy and myself issuing from the house, doubtless imagining us to be pursuers. I thought it no robbery to take up the cloak, and throw it over my fair companion.
"To the left, Richard, to the left," she said, "between the two buildings. It will lead us sooner to the wood." I hurried on as she directed, and soon entered a path amongst some tall open trees, with greensward beneath, which, at the end of five minutes, led us to the outskirt of the forest. We plunged in, and all was darkness round us, so that we were obliged to go more slowly; for though the path continued, it was frequently obstructed by obtruding trees.
"Your feet, dear Bessy," I said, in a whisper; "you have nothing to protect them."
"Yes I have," she answered, in the same tone, "my slippers were by the bedside." As she spoke, I heard steps advancing quickly upon the path behind us, at the further end of which was a little break of light, like one of those gaps which we sometimes see in a dark cloud, and I discerned the figure of a man, with what seemed a hatchet in his hand, coming rapidly up. Throwing my arm round Bessy, I drew her out of the path, and, taking one of the pistols out of my pocket, resolved to wait and see if the man would pass us, before I fired, first because I had no ammunition with me, and secondly because I feared the report might attract attention towards us.
"Dis way, dis way, they must be up here," cried a negro's voice. "Kill 'em all; kill 'em all!" I could faintly see him as he rushed forward, whirling the axe in his hand. I thought he would have passed us; but no: he caught a glimpse of something white in the wood, and stopped short.
"Still, Bessy, still!" I whispered, raising my arm, and aiming deliberately, as well as I could, by the faint light. He took a step forward towards us, and I obtained a clearer view of him. My finger pressed the trigger, and I only heard the ringing report of the pistol and the sound of a heavy fall. There was neither cry nor groan, and I suspect the ball had gone right through his head.
"Now, Bessy," I said, "the report may bring them hither quickly. Do you know any way that will lead us from the other side of this path?"
"Yes, yes," she answered; "I will show you. It will take us to what I call the labyrinth. We shall be safe there." We hurried on; and I thought she gave a little start as we came suddenly upon the body of a negro, lying partly on the path and partly in the bushes, with the axe he had carried thrown full ten feet from him, so that we passed between it and his corpse. She did not quail nor falter, but led me on to the mouth of a little side path, down which we went. With many a bend and many a turning, it led us, after more than a mile, into those low woods, intersected by many little by-ways, in which she and I had passed more than one hour of deep, though very varied, interest. We passed the open space overshadowed by the great old tree, under which she had told me how she loved me; but that she could never be my wife. The sinking moon shone upon the spot now as the sun had done then. We both remembered the emotions which had now been swallowed up in others; and while her right hand clasped my arm, her left was extended and lay gently upon mine. It seemed to say, "Don't you remember, Richard?" Still we hurried on, however, for I felt that we were yet too near the scene of slaughter to pause in safety there.
"Will not this lead us to the river, Bessy?" I asked.
"No; take to the left," she answered, "and we shall come to the house of Mr. Travis, where we shall be safe, I doubt not."