told her. "John
will be back shortly, and he will take you in his car. It is too long
a walk."

"But I must. You don't understand. What if Gabe comes home and finds
me gone?"

"Where is he now, did you say?"

"In the city, so I believe."

"Very well, then, most likely he will stay there a few hours. If he
comes, it will be on the 'Oconee,' and John can get you home before
that. So you must stay. Come, let me take off your hat."

After considerable persuasion, Mrs. Hampton induced her visitor to
remain. Then she went into the kitchen and placed the supper upon the
table. She could not understand what was keeping John and Jess so
long. Anyway, she and Hettie would have their tea, and the young
people could have theirs by themselves. She believed that Hettie might
feel somewhat embarrassed in the presence of Jess, owing to her shabby
appearance.

They had just finished their supper, and were about to rise from the
table when John entered the room. At the first sight of him Mrs.
Hampton gave a cry of fright and rose to her feet. His forehead was
marked with blood, and the face of the girl following him was as white
as death.

CHAPTER XXI

EBEN COMES ASHORE

As John and Jess made their way slowly down to the shore their hearts
were free and happy. They were together, and that was all sufficient.
Everything in nature was in harmony with their feelings. Birds chirped
and flitted about them; butterflies zigzagged here and there, and bees
hummed industriously among the flowers. The air was balmy, and a
gentle breeze drifted in from the west. Jess stopped and looked out
upon the river with kindling eyes.

"Oh, what a glorious day," she remarked. "It is so good to be in a
place such as this."

"I am glad you like it," John replied, as he glanced at the bright face
by his side. "I wish you could stay here always."

"So do I. The country suits me better than anywhere else."

"You would miss the city life, would you not, if you lived here all the
year?"

"What would I miss in the city? A continual round of social events, of
which I am more than tired, and going here and there in a vain effort
to find happiness. I long to be free in the highest sense, and not to
be chained to a system which to me is deadening."

"You certainly put your belief into practice when you ran away from
home. I am glad you do not regret it."

"No, I have not the least regret. If I felt that my parents are