Bessy seated herself in the hall before entering the drawing-room, where we heard many voices and gay laughter going on.

"Go in, Richard, go in," she said, giving me her hand; "let me recover myself a little. I shall be better soon. The worst is over; I shall join you presently." I pressed my lips upon her hand, and went into the drawing-room. Though still anxious--though still grieved--I was not near so much agitated as she was. As she had said, the worst was over, and ever buoyant hope had risen up again speedily in my heart. She had promised to tell me all within the next three months; and I could not, I would not, believe that any barrier really existed between herself and me, which a little argument, a little persuasion, would not overcome. Woman's mind, I thought, more timid, more delicate than man's, magnified difficulties and dangers, and sometimes even created them where they did not exist.

"But there can be no obstacle between us," I said to myself, "which reason and love cannot overcome." In about ten minutes, Bessy joined the rest of the party, and was certainly more cheerful than she had been the night before. The evening passed heavily enough, however; and about half-past nine she retired to rest. Half an hour after, the whole party separated, and I proceeded to my own room, not to sleep, but to meditate. I was anxious to think of every possible obstacle which could lie between Bessy and myself; and, as we are often inclined to do, to lay out plans for removing that of which I had no means of ascertaining the weight or the nature. When I entered the room, I found the candles lighted, and Zed, in one corner, upon his knees, very busy over something lying on a chair. He did not hear me enter; and, while throwing off my coat and waistcoat, I asked him a little sharply,--

"What are you about there, Zed?"

"Only looking up your pistols, master," said Zed, raising his head.

"Why, you seem to be loading them," I exclaimed.

"Just loaded the little ones, master; will load the big ones in a minute."

"Stay, stay. Why are you loading them?" I demanded, "I don't want them loaded."

"Oh, always better to have pistols loaded in troublesome times, master," answered the man earnestly. "Better let me load them." There was something in his manner which struck me as strange: and I replied,--

"Come here, and speak to me." The man hobbled up to the chair where I was sitting, and I fixed my eyes inquiringly on his face.

"Do you know anything," I said sternly, "which makes you judge that it would be better for me to have my pistols loaded this night, after they have been so long unloaded?"

"No," replied the man firmly.

"I suspect you do," I rejoined; "and remember, if you do know of any evil about to take place, and do not inform me, you will be an accomplice."

"Master, I do not know anything," replied Zed; "but I do not like the looks of things. I will tell you all I do know, and will lay down my life for you, master, for you have been a very kind master to me. This evening I went out to take a walk all by myself; and, down in the wood out there, I saw a good number of coloured gentlemen together--more nor common--and they were not talking loud and laughing, nor poking fun at each other; but they had all got their heads together and were whispering quite low; and Nat Turner was there, and Nelson, and Harry, and James, and several more who, at the time of the preaching, I overheard say very wild things. So I say to myself, 'I'll go home and load master's pistols--no knowing what may happen.'"

"Did you see any arms amongst them?" I inquired.

"No; they had no arms," he answered; "not even sticks; but they had a great big demi-john of some liquor."

"Most probably they were out upon some frolic," I suggested, entertaining some slight suspicion that my good friend Zed had not entirely forgotten the beating he had received in coming from the camp-meeting. "Give me that light jacket," I continued, "and then you can go, Zed. I have got a good deal to do before I can go to bed." The man did as I bade him, laying the small pistols he had loaded on the table, before he went; and I could hear his step descending, not as usual by the back staircase, but by the great stairs into the hall. There it seemed to stop, and I heard no further, but judged it not at all improbable that Zed had gone to Mr. Stringer's room to communicate his suspicions to that gentleman. I should have explained before, that the great hall ran straight through the middle of the house, dividing it into two equal parts, and being itself divided by a large thick door from what was called the pantry-hall. On entering from the front of the house, the first room on the left hand was the drawing-room, or parlour, as they call it here. Then came a little parlour used as breakfast-room, and then the dining-room. On the opposite side of the hall was, first, Mr. and Mrs. Stringer's bed-room, then a dressing-room; and then, facing the dining-room, another bed-room where the children slept. Mr. McGrubber slept at the top of the house in a room next to the school-room. My room was over that of Mr. and Mrs. Stringer; and Bessy's on the opposite side over the dining-room. Thus, when Zed went down the great staircase, though his tread was very heavy, I should lose the sound of his foot if he entered Mr. Stringer's room or the dressing-room. To say the truth, I did not attach much importance to his information or his fears; and, sitting down at the table, I leaned my head upon my hand and gave myself up to meditation.

"What could be the impediment," I asked myself, "to my union with Bessy Davenport, which seemed so formidable in her eyes?" I traced back the history of my family as far as I knew it. I dwelt upon all that I had ever heard even in my childhood's days, which could in any degree account for her scruples or her doubts. But I could find nothing. My mind was too much excited for sleep to approach my eyes; and, many a time, I went over and over the same ground, turning the question before me in every different direction, and only puzzling myself more and more. Hour passed by after hour; the dull chime of the hall clock sounded one and two; and I resolved at length to lie down to rest. Just, however, as I rose from my chair, I fancied I heard voices speaking in a low tone on the outside of the house; and, approaching the window, I looked out. There was nobody there, and I returned to the table. I had hardly reached it, when I heard distinctly a window raised. I paused to listen; and then came what seemed to me a faint, smothered cry. Snatching up the pistols from the table, I advanced towards the door; but before I could reach it, it was thrown open, and Zed appeared. He carried a large key in his hand, and his eyes seemed starting from his head.

"Run, master, run," he cried, "down the back staircase, out through the little hall into the wood. They are murdering all the white people down below!"

"How many are there?" I exclaimed.

"Oh, thirty or more," answered Zed; "but I have locked the door between the halls, so they can't get through. Run down the back staircase; run, master, quick quick!" Resistance was evidently in vain, and I rushed out of the room, but not to the top of the back staircase. Something dearer to me than my own life was to be protected; and, darting across, I threw open Bessy's door and went in, followed by Zed. For the last two or three nights, she had burnt a light in her room; and, while my faithful servant locked the door behind us, I hurried towards her bedside. She had started up at the first sound of our coming, and gazed at me with eyes full of terror and surprise.

"The house is attacked by revolted negroes, Bessy," I exclaimed. "They are murdering every one below. Come quick, come quick! I will protect you with my life." She sprang out of bed and was seeking for some clothes, but a piercing shriek rang up from the rooms below, and I caught her hand, saying, "For God's sake, come!"

"Run, missie, run," cried Zed, "down the back stairs, out into the wood. I will keep them here some time--I hear them coming up stairs--run, run!" Half carrying, half leading, I drew her to the door opening to the little staircase, making Zed a sign to follow; but he shook his head, and, just as I passed through the door with Bessy, I heard him say, "Won't hurt me. What's a poor black man's life worth?" I hurried Bessy down stairs as fast as possible, feeling tempted, I will admit, to lock the door behind us, for the key was in the lock on the outside, few persons thinking it worth while at that time in Virginia to take what seemed the unnecessary precaution of fastening their doors. But I thought of poor Zed, and I refrained. The pantry-hall was quite vacant and very dark, so that we had to feel our way through; but, as we passed, I heard voices speaking loudly above, and what seemed to me the blows of an axe upon a door. At length we reached the open air of the stable-yard, over which the sinking moon was throwing her pallid light. Before us, at the distance of some sixty or seventy yards, were two of the women servants flying in terror, and one of them dropped a cloak which was over her shoulders, made a snatch at it from the ground, but ran on without recovering it on seeing Bessy and myself issuing from the house, doubtless imagining us to be pursuers. I thought it no robbery to take up the cloak, and throw it over my fair companion.

"To the left, Richard, to the left," she said, "between the two buildings. It will lead us sooner to the wood." I hurried on as she directed, and soon entered a path amongst some tall open trees, with greensward beneath, which, at the end of five minutes, led us to the outskirt of the forest. We plunged in, and all was darkness round us, so that we were obliged to go more slowly; for though the path continued, it was frequently obstructed by obtruding trees.

"Your feet, dear Bessy," I said, in a whisper; "you have nothing to protect them."

"Yes I have," she answered, in the same tone, "my slippers were by the bedside." As she spoke, I heard steps advancing quickly upon the path behind us, at the further end of which was a little break of light, like one of those gaps which we sometimes see in a dark cloud, and I discerned the figure of a man, with what seemed a hatchet in his hand, coming rapidly up. Throwing my arm round Bessy, I drew her out of the path, and, taking one of the pistols out of my pocket, resolved to wait and see if the man would pass us, before I fired, first because I had no ammunition with me, and secondly because I feared the report might attract attention towards us.

"Dis way, dis way, they must be up here," cried a negro's voice. "Kill 'em all; kill 'em all!" I could faintly see him as he rushed forward, whirling the axe in his hand. I thought he would have passed us; but no: he caught a glimpse of something white in the wood, and stopped short.

"Still, Bessy, still!" I whispered, raising my arm, and aiming deliberately, as well as I could, by the faint light. He took a step forward towards us, and I obtained a clearer view of him. My finger pressed the trigger, and I only heard the ringing report of the pistol and the sound of a heavy fall. There was neither cry nor groan, and I suspect the ball had gone right through his head.

"Now, Bessy," I said, "the report may bring them hither quickly. Do you know any way that will lead us from the other side of this path?"

"Yes, yes," she answered; "I will show you. It will take us to what I call the labyrinth. We shall be safe there." We hurried on; and I thought she gave a little start as we came suddenly upon the body of a negro, lying partly on the path and partly in the bushes, with the axe he had carried thrown full ten feet from him, so that we passed between it and his corpse. She did not quail nor falter, but led me on to the mouth of a little side path, down which we went. With many a bend and many a turning, it led us, after more than a mile, into those low woods, intersected by many little by-ways, in which she and I had passed more than one hour of deep, though very varied, interest. We passed the open space overshadowed by the great old tree, under which she had told me how she loved me; but that she could never be my wife. The sinking moon shone upon the spot now as the sun had done then. We both remembered the emotions which had now been swallowed up in others; and while her right hand clasped my arm, her left was extended and lay gently upon mine. It seemed to say, "Don't you remember, Richard?" Still we hurried on, however, for I felt that we were yet too near the scene of slaughter to pause in safety there.

"Will not this lead us to the river, Bessy?" I asked.

"No; take to the left," she answered, "and we shall come to the house of Mr. Travis, where we shall be safe, I doubt not."

"I fear, Bessy, the insurrection is general," I replied. "Poor Zed gave me some intimation this evening; but I foolishly treated his warning with too little consideration. However, we must seek some place of shelter, though it will be necessary that we take every precaution to avoid falling into fresh danger. Can we not reach the town?"

"We shall have to pass close by the house," she answered. "It would be madness to attempt it to-night. The revolt can hardly be so general as you think." We walked quickly on for about two or three miles, still keeping within the shelter of the woods, though the path was crossed with roots, and in some places encumbered with briars. I felt Bessy's hand lean more and more heavily on my arm. Grief, anxiety, and terror had weakened her, and I became convinced that she could not go much further.

"What is the distance to Mr. Travis's house, now?" I asked.

"Perhaps three miles," she answered, with a sigh.

"Hadn't we better stop here and rest?" I said; "morning will soon arrive, and you cannot walk that distance at present, I am sure."

"A little further on there is an open space," she answered; "and I recollect there is a bank that used to be covered with wild flowers and soft grass, and we can sit down there and rest a little, for I am, I confess, very, very weary, dear Richard."

"Let me carry you," I said. But she would not suffer me, saying:--

"Your arm, your arm." At the end of about a quarter of an hour we came to the spot she had mentioned. It was indeed like a place made for lovers. The moon, though she was below the woods, still spread a soft light over the sky and the grassy bank; and the tall irregular trees around, waving their wide branches over it, were all distinct, though softened in the half light. I led her up the bank, and seated her where it seemed driest; then, taking my place by her side, I put my arm fondly round her. For a minute or two she spoke not, but she sighed deeply, and her head sank silently on my bosom. I was almost afraid she had fainted, but I soon perceived, by the soft breath upon my cheek, that such was not the case; and I said:--

"Now, dearest Bessy, take a short sleep; it will refresh you. I will roll up this jacket and make a pillow for you."

"No, no, I will rest here, with my head upon your shoulder," she answered. "I know, Richard, I can trust you as a brother." I would not touch her lips, but I pressed mine upon her brow. Then, wrapping the cloak tightly round her, without removing my arm from her waist, I leaned gently back against the bank, with her head still resting on my bosom. Then, drawing the undischarged pistol from my pocket, I threw my right arm over her also, ready to fire at the first approach of danger. I felt Bessy's heart beat against mine, but I was her brother. In two minutes she was asleep, utterly exhausted; and I kept watch while the last ray of moonlight faded from the sky. Very soon after, the first faint beams of morning began to spread up towards the zenith.