Treachery seemed printed on their backs as they rode ahead of her. The

big officer was ever polite and alert, but she was ready to distrust him

on the slightest excuse. These men could not help knowing that she was

rich, and it was reasonable for them to suspect that she carried money

and jewels with her. In her mind's eye she could picture these traitors

rifling her bags and boxes in some dark pass, and then there were other

horrors that almost petrified her when she allowed herself to think of

them.

Here and there the travelers passed by rude cots where dwelt woodmen and

mountaineers, and at long intervals a solitary but picturesque horseman

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stood aside and gave them the road. As the coach penetrated deeper into

the gorge, signs of human life and activity became fewer. The sun could

not send his light into this shadowy tomb of granite. The rattle of the

wheels and the clatter of the horses' hoofs sounded like a constant

crash of thunder in the ears of the tender traveler, a dainty morsel

among hawks and wolves.

There was an unmistakable tremor in her voice when she at last found

heart to ask the officer where they were to spend the night. It was far

past noon and Aunt Fanny had suggested opening the lunch-baskets. One of

the guides was called back, the leader being as much in the dark as his

charge.

"There is no village within twenty miles," he said, "and we must sleep

in the pass."

Beverly's voice faltered. "Out here in all this awful--" Then she caught

herself quickly. It came to her suddenly that she must not let these men

see that she was apprehensive. Her voice was a trifle shrill and her

eyes glistened with a strange new light as she went on, changing her

tack completely: "How romantic! I've often wanted to do something like

this."

The officer looked bewildered, and said nothing. Aunt Fanny was

speechless. Later on, when the lieutenant had gone ahead to confer with

the guides about the suspicious actions of a small troop of horsemen

they had seen, Beverly confided to the old negress that she was

frightened almost out of her boots, but that she'd die before the men

should see a sign of cowardice in a Calhoun. Aunt Fanny was not so proud

and imperious. It was with difficulty that her high-strung young

mistress suppressed the wails that long had been under restraint in Aunt

Fanny's huge and turbulent bosom.

"Good Lawd, Miss Bev'ly, dey'll chop us all to pieces an' take ouah

jewl'ry an' money an' clo'es and ev'ything else we done got about

us. Good Lawd, le's tu'n back, Miss Bev'ly. We ain' got no mo' show out

heah in dese mountings dan a--"




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