nd tightly, and his own pace never slackened.
Around them the gray and death-like wilderness darkened. They felt and
saw the cold white mist rising slowly from the ground, and waters
growing blacker and broader.

At last they came to what seemed the end. Silently and dismally the
half-dead forest, with its ghostly moss, lowered and darkened, and the
black waters spread into a great silent lake of slimy ooze. The dead
trunk of a fallen tree lay straight in front, torn and twisted, its top
hidden yonder and mingled with impenetrable undergrowth.

"Where now, Zora?" he cried.

In a moment she had slipped her hand away and was scrambling upon the
tree trunk. The waters yawned murkily below.

"Careful! careful!" he warned, struggling after her until she
disappeared amid the leaves. He followed eagerly, but cautiously; and
all at once found himself confronting a paradise.

Before them lay a long island, opening to the south, on the black lake,
but sheltered north and east by the dense undergrowth of the black swamp
and the rampart of dead and living trees. The soil was virgin and black,
thickly covered over with a tangle of bushes, vines, and smaller growth
all brilliant with early leaves and wild flowers.

"A pretty tough proposition for clearing and ploughing," said Bles, with
practised eye. But Zora eagerly surveyed the prospect.

"It's where the Dreams lives," she whispered.

Meantime Miss Taylor had missed her brooch and searched for it in vain.
In the midst of this pursuit the truth occurred to her--Zora had stolen
it. Negroes would steal, everybody said. Well, she must and would have
the pin, and she started for Elspeth's cabin.

On the way she met the old woman in the path, but got little
satisfaction. Elspeth merely grunted ungraciously while eyeing the white
woman with suspicion.

Mary Taylor, again alone, sat down at a turn in the path, just out of
sight of the house, and waited. Soon she saw, with a certain grim
satisfaction, Zora and Bles emerging from the swamp engaged in earnest
conversation. Here was an opportunity to overwhelm both with an
unforgettable reprimand. She rose before them like a spectral vengeance.

"Zora, I want my pin."

Bles started and stared; but Zora eyed her calmly with something like
disdain.

"What pin?" she returned, unmoved.

"Zora, don't deny that you took my pin from the desk this afternoon,"
the teacher commanded severely.

"I didn't say I didn't take no pin."