"Three of these villains have just passed right along the path which we came up. They must have had a brush with some of our friends near the town. This is hopeful, dear girl; for it shows that the gentlemen are rallying in force at Jerusalem, and if we can make our way thither to-night, we shall probably be safe."
"Then the negroes are defeated!" she exclaimed, clasping her hands with a look of thankfulness; "they are defeated and flying!"
"Nay," I answered, with a smile, "three are certainly running away; but I fear, dear Bessy, that is no indication of the result of the skirmish. Very few affairs of this kind take place without more than three running away, even of the victorious party. It will be better to stay here, and pursue our way after nightfall. We have shade and a soft turf, and plenty of wild flowers and singing-birds; and if we could but forget the terrible scenes we have just passed through, we might spend a few hours here pleasantly enough, even though I have nothing but biscuits to regale you with."
"I thought, Richard, we had no singing-birds in my country," said Bessy, with a touch of the old spirit in her tone, though greatly saddened.
"Oh, yes, you have, dearest," I. answered; "I have found one since, which I will still try to cage." Oh, the bright light that sometimes breaks through a dark cloud! Gloom, sorrow, fear had beset us during the whole of the preceding night and that eventful morning; but every step, every moment, had strengthened the bonds between Bessy's heart and mine as we went on together in the truest and most touching relation of woman to man--the protected and the protector. The agitation and the danger, too, lent the charm of contrast to the comparative calm and security with which we sat in that sequestered spot uncrossed by any path; and, as we partook of our scanty meal, with my arm supporting her waist, and her shoulder partly resting on my bosom, we both tasted a kind of happiness, only brightened by the gloom of all around, which is seldom vouchsafed to any in the course of this troublesome life.
[CHAPTER XXI.]
Bessy and I had time enough to talk over many things; yet no word of love was spoken between us--no reference made to the subjects which had so completely engrossed us not eighteen hours before. She was completely in my power. I might have said what I pleased, exacted what promises I pleased; but I would not take so cruel an advantage of her position. There was something so trusting, too, so confiding, so utterly and entirely reliant in her own conduct, that I should never have forgiven myself in after years if I had shown the least want of generosity in deed, or word, or thought towards her in such a situation. Nor, indeed, was it at all necessary to say anything. Her head rested on my bosom; her beautiful eyes looked up confidingly in my face; her hand lay clasped in mine. What need of words to speak all that was in our hearts? As old Sterne truly says, "Talking of love is not making love;" and it was sufficient for us to feel that we did truly love each other. Two or three hours passed by, and they did not seem long. Everything was still and quiet around us. There was no further sound of musketry, no galloping of horse. Once or twice I left her for a few minutes to approach as near as was prudent to the one path or the other, which were here separated by a belt of wood not more than three hundred yards wide. But nothing could I discover. No sound met my ear; no moving object was to be seen as far as the trees would let my eye penetrate. I believe--I even then believed--that we might go on in safety. But, ever self-deceiving, human nature would not let me act upon the belief which was really in my heart. Those hours there with Bessy were so very, very sweet, that surely I may be forgiven for conjuring up imaginary dangers, and forcing myself to believe them real; and summoning prudence and discretion to second the voice of inclination. Dear Bessy, did you not give in to the self-delusion too? It was very warm in our little sheltered bower; for though the trees kept off the sunshine--the fierce Virginian sunshine--they deprived us of the breeze which we only knew to be blowing by the waving of the tops, and the whispering of the higher leaves as they jostled each other amid the bending boughs. Traces of fatigue were on Bessy's face; and I coaxed her to go to sleep, persuading her it would give her strength for our onward walk. It was very pleasant to watch her while she lay with closed eyes; and when I had been gazing upon her in the early morning, I could not make out what was the especial charm. There must be something, I think, in the aspect of peace and calm--not without life, but living, animated, perfect tranquillity, so harmonious to the latent hopes and expectations of immortality, when all shall be absorbed in the serene and deep sense of God's great goodness, that the contemplation of even a faint and inadequate image of such a state fills the bosom with strange and bewildered admiration. Bessy needed no great persuasion indeed, for her eyes were very heavy; and besides the omnipotent and ever watchful Eye, there was another loving wakefulness to watch over her. She leaned upon my shoulder, and her eyes closed. Then, suddenly, she opened them with a start--some memory of danger or of grief crossed the still waking fancy--and then the sweet eyes closed again, and she slept profoundly. I could have slumbered too in such dear proximity; for I also was somewhat weary, and felt less strong than was my wont. But I would not suffer an eye to close while there was danger near my treasure. An hour, perhaps an hour and a half, passed. I could not tell how the day had gone by, for I had forgotten to wind up my watch, and it had stopped; but I judged by the aspect of the sky that it must be near four o'clock. Sometimes I had gazed on Bessy as she lay, and thought to myself, how false a forger must nature be if the writing on that lovely face did not speak a noble, sweet, frank spirit below. Then I remembered an old picture in my father's house, of the Children in the Wood, nearly in the same attitude as we lay there, and as innocent of evil thoughts as we were. I smiled at the quaint comparison that wove itself in my mind between those babes and ourselves. At other times my eye roved round our little shady resting-place, and my ear was turned to catch any sound that might announce the approach of danger. Two pistols and the gun lay beside me, and the other two pistols in my pocket were in reach of my hand. To say sooth, I had some confidence both in my courage and my dexterity, and I doubted not that I could give a good account even of a numerous body of assailants. Yet all was so peaceful that there seemed to me no danger, and I fondly thought we should reach the county town that night and find security there. Peril, by custom, loses its fearfulness; and I could willingly have passed many a day with Bessy in those wild scenes, even with all their anxieties, had it not been for her sake. But I felt that she could not bear such excitement long; therefore I was anxious that it should all come to an end, even though the tediousness, and the dulness, and the oppressiveness of formal society were forced upon us, instead of the wild, genial freedom of the woods. About four, however, as my eye rested upon the ground before us towards the junction of the two paths, something seemed to arise through the low bushes at the foot of the trees, which rather puzzled me. At first, I thought it proceeded from the early mists of evening. It was like the blue hazy vapour which ascends from the ground at the close of a warm day; and it lingered and spread out among the shrubs and bushes without using above a foot or two from the ground. It speedily increased, however; and, from one particular spot, went up a bluish-white cloud, rolling in graceful sweeps up to the tree-tops, and spreading itself in ever-varying circles as it went. It was evident, at length, that some one had lighted a fire in the wood at no great distance. Now, indeed, there seemed cause for anxiety. The wind blew from us towards the spot whence the smoke arose, so that I could catch no sound of voices, even if any were speaking there. Still, that some persons were very near us was certain; and that they were a party of the revolted negroes was more than probable. Various considerations engaged my mind for several moments; but, on the whole, I thought it would be better to wake Bessy, and remove as quietly as possible to some more distant spot. What she had been dreaming of I know not, but it was evidently something alarming; for when I spoke to her and gently raised her head, she uttered a quick cry of fear. It was very low, but it was sufficient, as the wind then lay, to reach other ears than mine. I was explaining to her what I had seen and what I thought best to do, and pointing in the direction of the smoke, when I saw the bushes move, perhaps thirty paces in advance.
"Lie down!" I whispered, withdrawing my arm from around her body; "lie down, and keep quite still, whatever happens. There is somebody coming through the wood. I have the lives of six here beside me, and then I have the sword. I do not think they can be many; and if not, I am their master." Bessy obeyed without a word; but put her hand over her eyes, as if to shut out more completely the sights which she thought were to follow. I quietly raised the gun, which I had reloaded with buckshot, and, placing it to my shoulder, levelled it at the spot where I had seen the bushes move, resolved not to fire until I could fire effectually. A moment after, a branch was agitated somewhat nearer and more to the right; and my aim was instantly directed there. Again the same indication showed the person approaching nearer still, and I followed the waving boughs with the gun. At length, a dark face appeared, peeping through the leaves, not more than twelve yards distant; but, luckily, at the same moment, I perceived the gaudy colours of a printed handkerchief, such as is very commonly worn on the head by the negro women in that district. A minute after, a voice exclaimed,--
"Master, master, put down your gun. I not come to do you any harm. We run away like you." I dropped the point of the gun, but still kept it in my hand, watching eagerly the ground in advance, lest the woman should be followed by any of the murderous bands that were roving through the country. The bushes seemed all still, however; and, quietly and timidly, she came on, as if still fearful of the weapon in my hands. She was a girl of about eighteen or twenty years of age, and a dark mulatto; but well formed, and of a frank, good-humoured countenance.
"Ah, Miss Bessy," she cried, when she came within six or seven feet of us, "is that you? You must have had a hard time of it, I reckon. Oh dear! oh dear! that this should ever come to pass! Why, how did you ever come to get away? Those nigger-devils have killed every one at Mr. Stringer's, minister and all--him who preached to them so fine. I dare say he wish now he had not told 'em to kill their masters. He little thought he have his own head split with a hatchet." Bessy had risen, and gazed for a moment on the speaker, as if she did not recollect her, and the girl continued:--