on the mountain, she kept on, groping
among trees, climbing over logs and rocks, falling often, but always
resolutely rising again, until, to her dismay, the glow began to
disappear. She had, without knowing it, followed the stream up into the
deep gorge through which it poured; and now the precipitous wood-crowned
wall, rising beside her, overhanging her, shut out the last glimpse of
the fire.

She was by this time exceedingly fatigued. It seemed useless to advance
farther; she felt certain that she was only getting deeper and deeper
into the entangling difficulties of that unknown, horrible place.
Neither had she the courage or strength to retrace her steps. Nothing
then remained for her but to pass the remainder of the night where she
was, and wait patiently for the morning.

Little knowing that the light she had seen was the glare of the kindled
forest, she endeavored to convince herself that she had nothing to fear.
At all events, she knew that trembling and tears could avail her
nothing. She had not ventured to call very loudly for help, fearing lest
her voice might bring foe instead of friend. And now it occurred to her
that perhaps Carl had been taken by the soldiers: yes, it must be so:
she explained it all to herself, and wondered why she had not thought of
it before. It would therefore be folly in her now to scream for aid.

Comfortless, yet calm, she explored the ground for a resting-place. She
cleared the twigs away from the roots of a tree, and laid herself down
there on the moss and old leaves. Everything seemed dank with the
never-failing dews of the deep and sheltered gorge; but she did not mind
the dampness of her couch. A strong wind was rising, and the great trees
above her swayed and moaned. She was vexed by mosquitoes that bit as if
they then for the first time tasted blood, and never expected to taste
it again; but she was too weary to care much for them either. She rested
her arm on the mossy root; she rested her head on her arm; she drew her
handkerchief over her face; she shut out from her soul all the miseries
and dangers of her situation, and quietly said her prayers.

There is nothing that calms the perturbations of the mind like that
inward looking for the light of God's peace which descends upon us when
in silence and sweet trust we pray to him. A delicious sense of repose
ensued, and her thoughts floated off in dreams.

She dreamed she was flying with her father from the fury of arme