ged, the negro set out a second time. Virginia followed him
at a distance. She saw, as she anticipated, the figure start up again,
and move off in the direction he was going. Toby accordingly commenced
making a large detour through the fields, and both he and the shadow
dogging him were soon out of sight.

Then Virginia lost no time in executing the other plan at which she had
hinted. Instead of returning, to give up the undertaking in despair, and
listen to matrimonial proposals from Gus Bythewood, she took a long
breath, gathered up her skirts, and set out for the mountain.

There was a new moon, but it was hidden by clouds. Still the evening was
not very dark. The long twilight of the summer day still lingered in the
valley. Here and there she could distinguish landmarks,--a knoll, a
rock, or a tree,--which gave her confidence. I will not say that she
feared nothing. She was by nature timid, imaginative, and she feared
many things. Her own footsteps were a terror to her. The moving of a
bush in the wind, the starting of a rabbit from her path, caused her
flesh to thrill. At sight of an object slowly and noiselessly emerging
from the darkness and standing before her, motionless and spectral, she
almost fainted, until she discovered that it was an old acquaintance, a
tall pine stump. But all these childish terrors she resolutely overcame.
Her heart never faltered in its purpose. Affection for her father,
anxiety for his welfare, and, it may be, some little solicitude for her
father's friend, who had appointed the tryst at the rock,--not with
herself, indeed, but with Toby,--kept her firm and unwavering in her
course. And beneath all, deep in her soul, was a strong religious sense,
a faith in a divine guidance and protection.

What most she feared was neither ghost nor wild beast of the mountains.
She felt that, if she could avoid encountering the brutal soldiers of
secession, keeping watch along the mountain-side, she would willingly
risk everything else. With the utmost caution, with breathless tread,
she drew near the road she was to cross. Her footsteps were less loud
than her heart-beats. Dogs barked in the distance. In a pool near by,
some happy frogs were singing. The shrill cry of a katydid came from a
poplar tree by the road--"Katy did! Katy didn't!" with vehement
iteration and contradiction. No other sounds; she waited and listened
long; then glided across the road.

She had come far from the village in ord