hed himself for
not having dreamed as usual of Evaleen Hale.

"How do you feel this morning, Jetty?" he said, patting his black
horse. "Are you well rested? I will get you the best breakfast to be
had in this God-forsaken region, and we must trot on or stay here and
perish. Never say die, Jetty."

Real difficulties invigorate the brain of a brave man. Arlington awoke
with a definite plan of procedure in his mind. After feeding Jetty and
breakfasting with keen gusto, he renewed his search for the lost path,
keeping the points of the compass ever in view. Natchez lay to the
south and also to the west. By going due south one must certainly
strike the road at some point.

"Are you ready to start, my lad?" said the man to the horse. The horse
whinnied an equine response, and was soon bearing his master southward
through the underbrush. Many an hour was wasted; the sun climbed to
the meridian, and no indication of the anxiously looked-for trail was
seen. At length, just as Arlington's pioneering eye lit upon the
shining surface of a lazy brook, a dozen yards away, Jetty suddenly
halted, put nose to the ground and began to paw. The animal had found
a path, scarcely discernible, yet a practicable road marked by
hoof-tracks. The course of it was along the edge of the small stream
flowing westerly. "Manifestly the rational thing to do now is to
follow the new-found trail, which, in all probability, is the right
road to Natchez, or if not, it may lead to the Mississippi, where a
boat can be hailed."

Progress was slow and painful. The oppressive afternoon was half spent
when a breeze started up, the precursor of a thunder-gust. The breeze,
strengthening to a brisk gale, made Arlington hold fast to his hat,
and caused the long streamers of Spanish moss to wave like gray
banners from the limbs of the cypress-trees. The air grew murky,
clouds were flying in dark blotches. A hurricane was sweeping across
the country; the loud rush of it came roaring up the stream; it lashed
and twisted and tore trees; poured down torrents; thundered around and
above Arlington and his terrified horse, without doing either man or
beast the slightest hurt, save deluging them with rain, and pounding
them as with mighty hammers of wind. The storm swept past, the rain
ceased, the wind died away, and the traveller thanked his stars he had
escaped death. On, on, farther and farther toiled the travellers, now
both afoot, Arlington leading his panting beas