"My father has no fears about me, Pauline. He knows that I can take care of myself; but it is for himself that I am desirous of returning. He is feeble and infirm, and requires my presence."
"But, my dear, consider the risk you run. The roads will be infested with these horrid soldiers, and what protection have you against them?"
For all answer the cheek of Zulma flushed, and her blue eyes gleamed with a strange light that was not defiance, but rather betokened the expectation of pleasurable excitement.
"Wait till to-morrow morning," continued Pauline, "and you can go under the shelter of some military passport. I am sure Roderick would be delighted to get you such a paper."
Zulma's lips curled with scorn, but she made no direct reply. She simply repeated her determination to go, tenderly reassuring her friend, and embracing her with effusion.
It was about four o'clock in the afternoon, and the day had already considerably lowered, when Zulma's sleigh reached the outer gate of the city. The officer in charge would fain have prevented her from going further, but she stated her case so plainly, and argued with such an air of authority, that he was obliged to yield to her wishes.
"Well," said she to herself, with a smile, "I have broken through one circle of steel. It remains to see how I will pass through the other."
She did not have long to wait. About two miles from the city, the road which she was following went down a steep hill at the foot of which flowed a little stream much swollen at this season with snow and cakes of ice. Over this stream there was a covered bridge whose entrance was very dark. As she began the descent, the gloom and solitude of the gorge rather agitated the nerves of Zulma, and she stimulated her horse in order to pass through the bridge as rapidly as possible. Her eyes glanced over every point of the ravine, and it was with a sigh of relief that she approached the bridge without seeing any human being. But suddenly, as the horse's hoofs touched the edge of the planked floor, the animal grew restive, tossed up his head, balanced right and left in the traces, and gave other unmistakeable signs of danger ahead. Zulma attempted to urge him forward, but this only increased his terror. Her servant, a green young rustic, with more strength than courage, turned to her with consternation stamped upon his blank face, and muttered something about obeying the animal's instinct and not venturing to proceed farther.
"Jump out and see what is the matter," she exclaimed. "If you are afraid, I will do it."
The fellow slowly stepped from the vehicle, and feeling his way along the shaft, reached the horse's head where he paused and peered into the dark cavity of the bridge. He then seized the bridle and tried to lead the beast along. But the latter wrenched the bit from the driver's hand, raised his forelegs high in air, shaking the sleigh and imperilling the seat of Zulma. She, too, was about to leap forth, when her servant ran back precipitately, exclaiming: