Caroline, little heroine that she was, made no complaint. If she had any secret fears, her lover effectually quenched them by telling her that the presence of the two saddle horses tied to the orchard fence would acquaint the Harshbarger family of their presence in the cave.
“Surely,” he went on, “we will be rescued in a few hours. There’s bound to be some member of the household or some hunter see those horses.”
But the hours passed, and with them came no intimations of rescue. But the two “prisoners” loved one another, time was nothing to them. In the outer world, both thought, but neither made bold to say, that they might have to separate–in the cave they were one in purpose, one in love. How gloriously happy they were! But they did get a trifle hungry, but that was appeased at first by the remnants of the breakfast provisions, which they luckily still had in a little bundle.
When sufficient time had elapsed for night to set in, they fell asleep, and in each other’s arms. Caroline’s last conscious moment was to feel her lover’s kisses. When they awoke, many hours afterwards, they were hungrier than ever, and thirsty. Sargeant fumbled about, locating a small pool of water, where the two quenched their thirsts. But still they were happy, come what may.
They would be rescued, that was certain, unless the horses had broken loose and run away, but there was small chance of that. They had been securely tied. It was strange that no one had seen the steeds in so long a time, with the farmhouse less than a quarter of a mile away–but it was at the foot of the hill.
Hunger grew apace with every hour. After a while drinking water could not sate it. It throbbed and ached, it became a dull pain that only love could triumph over. Again enough hours elapsed to bring sleep, but it was harder to find repose, though Sargeant’s kisses were marvelous recompense. Caroline never whimpered from lack of food. To be with her lover was all she asked. She had prayed for over a year to be with him again. She would be glad to die at his side, even of starvation.
The young man was content; hunger was less a pain to him than had been the past fourteen months’ separation.
Again came what they supposed to be morning. They knew that there must be some way out near at hand, as the air was so pure. They shouted, but the dull echoes were their only reward. Strangely enough, they had never felt another cold gust like the one which had blown out their torches. Could the shade of one of the old-time Indians who had fought for possession of the cave been perpetrator of the trick? suggested lovely little Caroline. If so, she thought to herself, he had helped her, not harmed her, for could there be in the world a sensation half so sweet as sinking to rest in her lover’s arms?
Meanwhile the world outside the cavern had been going its way. Shortly after the young equestrian passed the Harshbarger dwelling, all the family had come out, and, after attending to their farm duties, driven off to the Seven Mountains, where the sons of the family maintained a hunting camp on Cherry Run, on the other side of High Valley.
The boys had killed an elk, consequently the guests remained longer than expected, to partake of a grand Christmas feast. They tarried at the camp all of that day, all of the next; it was not until early on the morning of the third day that they started back to the Penn’s Creek farm.