Penn took one of her hands, Pepperill the other, and with their aid, supporting her, lifting her, she sprang lightly up the ledges, and from rock to rock.
Cudjo, carrying Dan's gun, ran on before, leading the way through hollows and among bushes, by a route known only to himself. So they reached a piece of woods, by the thin skirts of which he hoped to head off the fire. Too late—it was there before them. It ran swiftly among the fallen leaves and twigs, and spread far into the woods.
The negro turned back. There was a wild grimace in his face, and a glitter in his eyes, as he threw up his hand, by way of signal that their flight in that direction was cut off.
"Cudjo! what is to be done!" And Penn drew Virginia towards him with a look that showed his fears were all for her.
"We can't git off down the mountain, nuther!" said Dan. "It's gittin' into the woods down thar. It'll be all around us in no time!"
"You let Cudjo do what him pleases?" said the black.
"I can trust you! Can you, Virginia?"
"He should know what is best. Yes, I will trust him."
"Take dat 'ar!" Pepperill received his gun. "Now you look out fur youselves. Me tote de gal."
And catching up Virginia, before Penn could stop him, or question him, he rushed with her into the fire.