"But where are you going to go, Miss Edith?" asked her groom, Oliver, now speaking for the first time.
"What for, Miss Edith, for goodness sake?"
"Back to Luckenough to guard the dear old house, and take care of you two."
"But oh, Miss Edy! Miss Edy! for Marster in heaven's sake what'll come o' you?"
"Lord, Lord, Miss Edy! ole marse 'ill kill we-dem. What 'ill old marse say? What 'ill everybody say to a young gal a-doin' of anything like dat dar? Oh, dear! dear! what will everybody say?"
"They will say," said Edith, "if I meet the enemy and save the house--they will say that Edith Lance is a heroine, and her name will be probably preserved in the memory of the neighborhood. But if I fail and lose my life, they will say that Edith was a cracked-brained girl who deserved her fate, and that they had always predicted she would come to a bad end."
"Better go on to Hay Hill, Miss Edy! 'Deed, 'fore marster, better go to Hay Hill."
"No," said the young girl, "my resolution is taken--we will return to Luckenough."
The arguments of the old negroes waxed fainter and fewer. They felt a vague but potent confidence in Edith and her abilities, and a sense of protection in her presence, from which they were loth to part.
The sun was high when they entered the forest shades again.
"See," said Edith to her companions, "everything is so fresh and beautiful and joyous here! I cannot even imagine danger."
Edith on reaching Luckenough retired to bed, and addressed herself to sleep. It was in vain--her nerves were fearfully excited. In vain she tried to combat her terrors--they completely overmastered her. She was violently shocked out of a fitful doze.
Old Jenny stood over her, lifting her up, shaking her, and shouting in her ears:
"Miss Edith! Miss Edith! They are here! They are here! We shall be murdered in our beds!"
In the room stood old Oliver, gray with terror, while all the dogs on the premises were barking madly, and a noisy party at the front was trying to force an entrance.
Violent knocking and shaking at the outer door and the sound of voices.
"Open! open! let us in! for God's sake, let us in!"
"Those are fugitives--not foes--listen--they plead--they do not threaten--go and unbar the door, Oliver," said Edith.