coarse rocks, along which ran a
narrow road. I turned into it, and soon saw beyond the rough coast the
blue ring of the ocean--vast, silent, and splendid in the sunshine.
I found a seat on the ruins of an old stone-wall, among some tangled
bushes and briers. There being no Aunt Eliza to pull through the surf,
and no animated bathers near, I discovered the beauty of the sea, and
that I loved it.

Presently I heard the steps of a horse, and, to my astonishment, Mr.
Uxbridge rode past. I was glad he did not know me. I watched him as he
rode slowly down the road, deep in thought. He let drop the bridle, and
the horse stopped, as if accustomed to the circumstance, and pawed the
ground gently, or yawed his neck for pastime. Mr. Uxbridge folded his
arms and raised his head to look seaward. It seemed to me as if he were
about to address the jury. I had dropped so entirely from my observance
of the landscape that I jumped when he resumed the bridle and turned
his horse to come back. I slipped from my seat to look among the
bushes, determined that he should not recognize me; but my attempt was a
failure--he did not ride by the second time.

"Miss Huell!" And he jumped from his saddle, slipping his arm through
the bridle.

"I am a runaway. What do you think of the Fugitive Slave Bill?"

"I approve of returning property to its owners."

"The sea must have been God's temple first, instead of the groves."

"I believe the Saurians were an Orthodox tribe."

"Did you stop yonder to ponder the sea?"

"I was pondering 'Lemorne vs. Huell.'"

He looked at me earnestly, and then gave a tug at the bridle, for his
steed was inclined to make a crude repast from the bushes.

"How was it that I did not detect you at once?" he continued.

"My apparel is Waterbury apparel."

"Ah!"

We walked up the road slowly till we came to the end of it; then I
stopped for him to understand that I thought it time for him to leave
me. He sprang into the saddle.

"Give us good-by!" he said, bringing his horse close to me.

"We are not on equal terms; I feel too humble afoot to salute you."

"Put your foot on the stirrup then."

A leaf stuck in the horse's forelock, and I pulled it off and waved it
in token of farewell. A powerful light shot into his eyes when he saw my
hand close on the leaf.

"May I come and see you?" he asked, abruptly. "I will."

"I shall say neither 'No' or 'Yes.'"

He rode on at a quick pace, and I walked homeward fo