It looked like a man moving at the top of his speed.
“Who can it be?” she said, speaking aloud. “He is coming this way, too.”
Not a little surprised and anxious she continued to watch and wait.
“It must be the horseman grandpa and I saw on the ridge,” she mused. “And he is certainly coming here. I suppose I ought to rouse the folks, but little good that will do. Poor old grandpa is our only protection.”
The approach of the stranger was no longer a matter of doubt.
In a few minutes he was within plain view.
The maiden saw that he was young—not more than twenty-one or twenty-two. He was handsome, too. Quite tall, broad-shouldered and with a countenance that Apollo might have envied.
But there was a haggard look upon his face, and he carried his left arm in a sling. His step, too, seemed uneasy and she saw that he had gone about as far as nature would permit him.
“A northern man—an accursed Yankee!” she exclaimed under her breath, somewhat fiercely.
No one else had appeared in sight as far as she could see.