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