beat."

And, so saying, she gayly galloped along, singing as she went, following
the narrow path up hill and down dale through the wintry woods. Drawn on
by the attraction of the unknown, and deceiving herself by the continued
repetition of one resolve, namely--"When I get to the top of the next
hill, and see what lies beyond, then I will turn back"--she galloped on
and on, on and on, on and on, until she had put several miles between
herself and her home; until her horse began to exhibit signs of
weariness, and the level rays of the setting sun were striking redly
through the leafless branches of the trees.

Cap drew rein at the top of a high, wooded hill and looked about her. On
her left hand the sun was sinking like a ball of fire below the horizon;
all around her everywhere were the wintry woods; far away, in the
direction whence she had come, she saw the tops of the mountains behind
Hurricane Hall, looking like blue clouds against the southern horizon;
the Hall itself and the river below were out of sight.

"I wonder how far I am from home?" said Capitola, uneasily; "somewhere
between six and seven miles, I reckon. Dear me, I didn't mean to ride so
far. I've got over a great deal of ground in these two hours. I shall
not get back so soon; my horse is tired to death; it will take me three
hours to reach Hurricane Hall. Good gracious! it will be pitch dark
before I get there. No, thank heaven, there will be a moon. But won't
there be a row though? Whew! Well, I must turn about and lose no time.
Come, Gyp, get up, Gyp, good horse; we're going home."

And so saying, Capitola turned her horse's head and urged him into a
gallop.

She had gone on for about a mile, and it was growing dark, and her horse
was again slackening his pace, when she thought she heard the sound of
another horse's hoofs behind her. She drew rein and listened, and was
sure of it.

Now, without being the least of a coward, Capitola thought of the
loneliness of the woods, the lateness of the hour, her own helplessness,
and--Black Donald! And thinking "discretion the better part of valor,"
she urged her horse once more into a gallop for a few hundred yards; but
the jaded beast soon broke into a trot and subsided into a walk that
threatened soon to come to a standstill.

The invisible pursuer gained on her.

In vain she urged her steed with whip and voice; the poor beast would
obey and trot for a few yards, and then fall into a walk.

The th