It was a beautiful night and a beautiful morning, calm and sweet and peaceful; contrasting strangely and painfully with the dreadful scenes which had been enacted within the last few hours. In our flight from the house, and the long walk we had taken with real dangers on every side, and all those which imagination never fails to supply in moments of agitation and peril, I had had no time for thought. But now, as I rested here, with Bessy in my arms, and the tranquil change going on above from night to morning, the mind seemed hurried on with wild rapidity, as if by a runaway horse. Thought thrust upon thought; memories, expectations, fears, hopes, doubts, questions, all trod upon each other's heels; and before one had time to obtain full possession of the ground, it was gone, displaced by another. What a multitude of incidents had occurred since, a few months before, I had laughingly taken my departure from Norfolk, feeling life and the world to be great jests, and hardly believing in the reality of anything! What a multitude of incidents! I speak not of mere material facts, but of mind and heart facts. What new friends, what new enemies had arisen! What perils, what pains, what hopes, what happiness, what new objects, purposes, desires, had crowded upon me! What new thoughts had entered the brain, what new feelings had been born in the heart! It seemed almost a life-retrospect--like one of those pageants of past existence, which, I am told, sweep before the eyes of a drowning man in the last expiring blaze of consciousness. For some time, this great and strange impression--for it was more a general impression than a sequence of ideas--kept possession of my mind; but then I forced my thoughts away, and fixed them upon the more important facts of the present. What had become of Mr. Stringer and his family? Were they all dead, all slaughtered? What had become of poor Zed, who had so heroically risked his own life to secure to me and Bessy a few moments more for escape? Was it to be expected that, in the rage and excitement of the moment, the furious savages, drunk with blood and murder, would spare any one who opposed them, of whatever colour he might be? Then, again--how far had the insurrection spread? With the little information I possessed, it seemed to me that this revolt must have been long planned and deliberately arranged. I remembered the horrible massacres of St. Domingo; and how silently and secretly the first outbreak of that great and bloody insurrection had been arranged by the negroes--how confidently, carelessly, and securely the planters had reposed on their own strength till their self-reliance was drowned in blood and flames. That such might be the case in the present instance was clear. Whether it was actually so or not, I had no means of judging; yet I could not help fearing that the insurrection had been very general. The negroes could have no particular motive for attacking the house of Mr. Stringer more than any other--indeed less; for there being more white men in it than in numbers of others in the neighbourhood, the assailants were likely to encounter more vigorous resistance. Mr. Stringer had given no special cause of offence; and in his house was staying one of the apostles of the abolition party. The more I thought of the whole, the more probable it seemed to me that the insurrection had been very general. I knew and had seen how rapidly and secretly the negroes communicate with each other--how unaccountably the most trifling piece of news would pass amongst them, from house to house, over a wide space; and, surely, I thought, in a case of such terrible importance as this, the same means of communication must have been brought into operation. Then came the terrible question--"If such is the case--if revolt and massacre are stalking abroad over the land, where shall I find shelter and safety for this dear girl?" I had no means of forming a sane opinion. My knowledge of the country was but scanty. I knew, generally, the direction in which the county-town, Jerusalem, lay; but I knew not how to reach it by the shortest and most secure road; and the only resolution I could form was, to lay all the conclusions I had arrived at before Bessy when she awoke, and trust to her better knowledge of the people and the district. While these reflections had been passing through my mind, the faint gray of the morning had brightened into a rosy glow, and the rising sun poured streams of light across the little open space in which we were. There she lay, dear girl, with her head still resting on my bosom, looking still more beautiful, it seemed to me, than ever. I had fancied that one great charm of her countenance was in her eyes; but now, veiled by the pale lids, with their long black fringes sweeping her cheek, those eyes could add nothing; yet, how lovely she looked! A soft glow was upon her cheek; and, indeed, the rosy light of morning coloured her whole face, while the slightly-parted lips showed the pearly teeth, and her bosom heaved gently and regularly with the breathing of calm and quiet sleep. I could have lain there and gazed at her for ever. For more than an hour after sunrise, it seemed as if fatigue, I might say utter exhaustion, had obliterated all trace of the dreadful scenes we had passed through, and the perilous situation in which we were. It was evident she dreamed not at all; but, at length, she moved a little. A broken word or two came from her lips.

"Oh, Richard!" she said, and then came something that was indistinct; then she spoke again more plainly. "Your father, you know it was your own father--do not, do not press me." Then she awoke with a start, and gazed around her wildly. She would have sprung up, but I still held her in my arms, saying,--

"Bessy, you forget." And, looking into my face for a moment, she seemed to recall the past with sensations which must have been strangely mingled. First came a look of terror; then a bright smile, and then her whole face and forehead were overspread with a burning blush, and she buried her eyes for a minute or two on my bosom. I tried to soothe and quiet her, and she was soon conversing with me, anxiously, but calmly, upon the circumstances in which we were placed.

"We had better, in the first instance," she said, "go on to the house of Mr. Travis. He is so good and excellent a man, so kind to his servants and to all the people around him, that he would be the last to be attacked. Then again, from the edge of the wood, we can see the house quite plainly; and if we perceive anything unusual, or that indicates danger, we need not go on."

"It is too far, however," I answered, "for you to go on without some refreshment, Bessy. If you will go a little further amongst the trees, so as to be hidden from the road, I will seek some wild fruits, such as I have seen growing round, and we will make our breakfast, like two hermits, here. I will not go beyond call." She had some little hesitation at letting me depart; but we found a place where she could conceal herself completely, and I went on my foraging expedition, which produced some supply, though not a very abundant one. Many of the wild fruits, of which, through this country, there is generally a large quantity, were now nearly over; still, in the shady places, I found some strawberries and raspberries unwithered, and two or three other kinds, looking like plums and cherries, which were fair enough to the eye, though whether they were edible or not I could not tell. I judged, however, that in her young days Bessy must have made acquaintance with them; and at the end of about a quarter of an hour, I went back with both my hands loaded. Some I found were bitter, some poisonous: but the rest served in some degree to refresh her; and, as we sat and took our humble fare, the strange situation in which we were placed seemed to present itself more strongly than ever to her eyes.

"I can hardly believe all this, Richard," she said. "It seems to me like a dream. Are we really living and waking on this earth? or are we the sport of some strange mad fancy?"

"The facts are too stern to be disbelieved, dearest girl," I answered. "Indeed, I almost dread to think how many dark and terrible realities there may be around us even now."

"And yet, amidst them all, Richard," said Bessy, with tears rising in her eyes--what sweet and beautiful things are eyes!--"how can I ever thank you, not alone for saving my life a second time, but for all the tenderness and brotherly delicacy you have shown me. When I spoke so ill of men, Richard, some months ago, I did not know there was, in the world, such a man as you." She wiped the drop of emotion from her cheek, and then added,--

"But what are these darker things you apprehend? Those we know are dark enough. I hardly dare to let my mind rest upon them." I explained to her, as well as I could, the reasons there might be to suppose that the insurrection of the slaves might have been general throughout all that part of Virginia, or even further; and I dwelt especially upon the difficulties which we might encounter in seeking some place of safety, hoping that her better knowledge of the country might enable her to suggest something, where I, in my ignorance, was at fault.

"I do not think the revolt can have been very general," she said. "St. Domingo, which you mention, was, I believe, in a very different condition from this State. The negroes were much more numerous there, and the white race were a feeble, inactive, colonial population. They had not the vigour and energy of the free citizens of a republic. You may smile, dear Richard; but you will see that, although this insurrection may have spread further than I imagined, and many terrible things may happen in the meantime, the gentlemen of Virginia will speedily unite and put it down with a strong hand. However, the only thing for us to do, seems to me to consist in obtaining some information as speedily as possible; and the place where we are most likely to find it is, I still think, at the house of Mr. Travis. We can reach it in an hour; and it is nearer than any other place. Let us go. I am quite ready now." We went on upon our way, conversing in very low tones, and keeping a watchful eye upon the path as far as we could see in advance; but all was peaceful and still around us. The air was soft and balmy; the only sounds were a few short notes from the birds amongst the trees; the only moving objects the butterflies flitting across; or, here and there, a squirrel darting from one side of the path to the other, and running chattering up the trees. How pleasant would that morning's walk have been, with one so much beloved, in other times and circumstances! At length, Bessy paused.

"We are not far from the house," she said. "That light at the end of the path is coming from the open ground of the plantation. We had better turn aside here, if we can find our way through the bushes, and see if we can discover anything before we approach." We soon found a place where we could pass; and, proceeding cautiously, reached the outer edge of the forest ground. The house was before us, not a hundred and fifty yards distant; and beyond it were some of the offices and several negro cabins. Not a human being was visible, however. The eye could range over the unfenced fields without a single labourer being seen. No grooms appeared about the stable; no women sitting at the cabin doors; no children playing about before them. The windows of Mr. Travis's house were all closed, and only the door in front was partly open.

"I do not like the appearance of things here, Bessy," I said. "Do you see?"

"Yes," she answered. And I could feel her hand tremble on my arm. "The place looks strangely desolate. Perhaps they have fled at the news of the revolt."

"It maybe so," I answered; "but I cannot take you there, Bessy, till I know more. Who can tell what may be in that house? Can you fire a pistol?"

"I dare say I can, Richard," she answered. "But why?"

"Because I will leave this with you," I replied, "and go forward and see what has occurred there. If I should not come back soon, the only thing for you to do will be to make the best of your way to Jerusalem, by the safest path you can think of. The gentlemen of the place will make that their rallying point, you may depend upon it."

"Oh, no, no, Richard," she cried: "if you go to death, I will go with you. Indeed, indeed, I cannot stay here alone. I should die of fear for myself and you. I was in terror all the time you were absent this morning." I saw that it was vain to reason with her; and making our way out of the wood, we came quietly to the open space cleared around the house. At the same moment, a large dog came round from the stable to the front door, raised his head, and began to howl. It was the most melancholy sound I ever heard; still it encouraged me to go on. As soon as the poor brute saw us, he ran forward, but without barking, or any sign of enmity; and, when he came up, licked my hand, as if he was glad to see a human being.

"We have an ally here, in case of need, Bessy," I said, and, mounting the steps, I pushed open the half-closed door. All was silent, and in the hall there was no sign of disarray or confusion. Hats and articles of clothing were hanging about as usual in the halls of country houses. Some fishing-rods stood in a corner, and a powder-flask and shot-pouch lay upon a chair. There were no guns, however, in a place where guns seemed once to have stood, and on the floor-cloth was the print of a naked foot stamped in some dark fluid; it seemed to me to be blood.

"They must have fled," said Bessy, who had not remarked the foot-print. "Everything seems quiet and in order."

"It may be so," I answered; "but I have many doubts." That mark on the floor-cloth, the half-open door, the windows closed--all created very terrible suspicions. With the pistol, which remained loaded still in my hand, I pushed open the door of a room on my left; it seemed to be the dining room, for there was a long mahogany table in the middle, with chairs ranged round it at a little distance. Here also was no sign of disorder, except, indeed, that there was a double-barrelled fowling-piece, still loaded and capped, lying across the table.

"This is very lucky," I said; "I shall take the liberty of appropriating this, which may serve to defend us in case of need, and may procure us food as we go along, Bessy, should we not be able to make our way to some town or village as soon as we could wish."

"Oh, Mr. Travis will easily forgive you," replied Bessy. "But let us make sure that there is nobody lurking in the house, for I think they must have left some of the coloured people behind them, otherwise the door would not have been open."

"Let me go first," I said, "and we will examine the rooms on this floor." Going out again into the hall, with the gun under my arm, I looked up the stairs and shouted,--

"Is there anybody in the house?" There was no answer; everything was still and silent. I then turned to the room opposite the dining room. It was a handsome drawing-room, neatly furnished, with books upon the table, one of them open. There was a door on the left-hand side of the room, opposite to the windows, and Bessy said,--

"That is probably Mr. and Mrs. Travis's bed-room."

"I will go in and see," I replied; "but first let me lock this door into the hall, that we may not be attacked from behind." Having done so, I moved over towards the other door, begging my fair companion to remain in the parlour while I reconnoitred; for I had a sort of presentiment that I should not go far without finding something which I would fain hide from her eyes. She followed me close, however, and I opened the door. The light was faint, for there were curtains over the windows; still I could see well enough to induce me instantly to put Bessy gently back with my left hand, saying,--

"Let me go in alone, my beloved. Here are sights not fit for you,"

"Have they not fled?" exclaimed Bessy, in a tone of alarm.

"Their spirits are fled," I answered sadly. "Their bodies are here." Entering the room, I partly closed the door, and then, undrawing the curtain, the whole terrible scene was full before me. Lying on the floor by the side of the bed, from which he had evidently started in haste, was Mr. Travis himself, with two terrible hatchet-wounds on the top of his head, one from which it seemed the weapon had glanced, and the other sinking deep into the skull. In the bed lay his wife, with her brains dashed out, and the pillow all soaked in blood. But, more horrible still, on the floor, near the foot of the bed, was a little cradle, and from it the wretches had dragged an infant not four months old, and killing it with blows of their axes, had cast it down near its father's feet. My blood ran cold. I have seen many a man fall in battle, I have passed over the field and gazed upon the slain, but I never saw any sight which so horrified me as this. When man is arrayed against man in deadly strife, the mind is prepared for scenes of death of every kind, and the hand clenching the sword or the musket, the scattered arms and broken weapons, have all that sort of harmony with the work of the fell destroyer, that they deprive it of part of its terrors. But here everything was in strange and terrible contrast. The peaceful aspect of domestic life was all around; the lightsome, gay parlour, with its open book; the instruments of music; the quiet, shaded bed-room; the little cradle with its light curtain of rosy silk--all added horror to the sight of violence and blood, and death. I could not stay to contemplate it, but left the room speedily, and closed the door. Bessy threw her arms round me, and hid her eyes and wept.

"This is but what we might expect to find, my love," I said. "But, dearest Bessy, we have other things to think of now than mourning for the dead. We shall be in perfect safety here for a time; for these blood-thirsty wretches will not return speedily to the scene of their barbarous deeds. I must find you some clothing and some food, for we cannot tell where we shall have to go, or how long it may be ere we find a place of safety."

"Food, Richard," cried Bessy; "I could take nothing now. I do not feel as if I should ever taste food with appetite again; and, indeed, I do not think we are so safe here as you believe. Doubtless these savages, as soon as they have made themselves masters of the country round, will return to plunder the houses. Nothing seems to have been touched here. We had better get back to the woods at once."

"They will not come soon," I answered. "In the daylight they must fight their way, and for some time they will have other things to think of than plunder. We will not stay long, however; but I must have food and clothing for you. I blessed God last night that it was so warm and dry; but another night it may not be so. And who can tell where we may have to lodge this very evening? You stay here, and lock both the doors; keep this pistol with you; I will go and seek for the different things we may need, and be back in a moment or two. I must have more arms if I can find any, and powder and ball, if they are to be had, though I doubt not these men have carried off the greater part of the weapons in the house. Let me be but well armed, and I shall not mind half-a-dozen of them. At all events, let me have the means, dear Bessy, of defending you in case of need." It was with evident reluctance she remained below; but I was afterwards very glad I had succeeded in persuading her, for, in the rooms above, I found two sweet girls, much of her own age, both murdered in the same barbarous manner. I took some of the clothes which I found in the bed-chambers to carry down to my dear companion. It seemed like plundering the dead; but that was no time for false delicacy. My search through the rest of the house was not quite so successful. Every gun, of which I afterwards found there had been many, had been removed by the atrocious murderers, except the one which I had found in the dining-room. In a small room behind, however, I discovered a brace of very beautiful pistols and a sword. These I took, as well as the powder-flask and shot-bag that were in the hall, the latter of which was half full of buckshot. The flask was nearly full of powder, and with these arms, if attacked, I thought I could make a very good defence. Of food, I could find none in a fit state to carry away, except a packet of biscuits; but these were something in our distressed condition; and I luckily discovered in the side-board drawer a hunting-flask containing some brandy. With all these various articles gathered together, I returned to Bessy, whom I found standing very nearly where I left her. Then, leaving her for a few moments to dress herself, I went to the half-open door and looked out. I had not been there a minute when, across the further end of the open space, three or four hundred yards distant, I saw a negro pass, with a gun upon his shoulder. I drew instantly back, but still continued from behind the door to watch the course he took. He did not look towards the house, however, but marched on with a sort of exulting step, as of one who had done great deeds. Perhaps it was prejudice, perhaps not; but I could not help thinking he was one of the murderers, rejoicing in the retribution he had inflicted upon those who had deprived him and his race of liberty. In a few minutes Bessy joined me, and I asked her where the path in the wood led to, in which I had seen the negro disappear.

"That is the way to Jerusalem," she answered--"at least one way. There is another path here at the back of the house, but they soon join."

"Then I fear we must not direct our course thither," I answered. "I have just seen an armed negro pass that way; and, I doubt not, he has others before him. Were he alone, he would be soon dealt with; but, in all probability, they have marched to make an attack upon the town." She seemed very much alarmed, and asked, in almost a despairing tone,--

"Then where shall we go, Richard? My uncle Henry's house lies up in the same direction. Good God! I hope they have not been attacked and murdered too."

"I hope not," I answered. I could express nothing except hope; and that, to say the truth, was but feeble. It was exceedingly difficult to determine on what to do. Every course presented dangers; and to remain where we were was, undoubtedly, very perilous. If the actual murderers did not return, other bands of revolted negroes would probably visit the houses that had been attacked, for the purpose of plunder. In the fields and woods we were likely, at some point, to meet with the insurgents; and it was evident, that when they murdered young girls and infants, they would spare no white person. Still the woods afforded more means of concealment, and a wider space; and I was just about to propose to Bessy to betake ourselves to their shelter, when she suggested that we might find horses in the stable, by which we could reach the high-road, and ride in any direction we might find reason to believe was open.

"At all events," she added, "we shall find some white people there to give assistance in case of need." I caught at the idea eagerly; but we were disappointed. The horses had all been taken away, and not a soul was left in any of the negro cabins. An anxious consultation followed; but the only course we could decide upon was to seek the cover of the woods again, to find out some quiet and concealed spot, and to wait there till the sun set; then, under the veil of night, to make our way, as well as we could, to the county town, where we believed all the gentlemen of the neighbourhood would rendezvous in sufficient force at least to keep the insurgents in check. We took the path at the back of the house, which, at all events, would carry us some distance on the way we intended to go, and walked on for about two miles, looking behind from time to time, and keeping a vigilant eye on the road before us, which, luckily, was very nearly straight.

"Bessy, dear love, you are tired," I said, as I felt her lean heavily on my arm. "Let us turn into the wood here, and rest a while. I neglected to load the arms I procured in the house, and I may as well do it now."

"I do not think Jerusalem can be more than four miles distant," she answered, "and I can go a little further, Richard; we had better get as near as we can. Besides, about three quarters of a mile on, this path joins the other, and we can better discover what is going on, if we conceal ourselves just between the two." We proceeded on our way for about half a mile further, when, suddenly, from some distance in front, came the rattling sound of musketry. It seemed but one straggling volley; but, the moment after, I thought I heard the sound of horses' feet at the gallop. Catching Bessy up in my arms, I carried her through the underwood, to a spot where I thought we could lie concealed. I set her gently down upon the turf, and, placing myself partly behind a tree, looked out towards the road. A minute had hardly passed when three negroes, on horse-back, rode by at full speed. I was strangely tempted to give them the two charges out of my gun, but the thought of Bessy restrained me, and I contented myself with listening eagerly to ascertain if others were flying along the road, which I knew must lie upon the right hand. In that direction I could hear no sounds, however; and, seating myself by the dear girl's side, I said,--

"Three of these villains have just passed right along the path which we came up. They must have had a brush with some of our friends near the town. This is hopeful, dear girl; for it shows that the gentlemen are rallying in force at Jerusalem, and if we can make our way thither to-night, we shall probably be safe."

"Then the negroes are defeated!" she exclaimed, clasping her hands with a look of thankfulness; "they are defeated and flying!"

"Nay," I answered, with a smile, "three are certainly running away; but I fear, dear Bessy, that is no indication of the result of the skirmish. Very few affairs of this kind take place without more than three running away, even of the victorious party. It will be better to stay here, and pursue our way after nightfall. We have shade and a soft turf, and plenty of wild flowers and singing-birds; and if we could but forget the terrible scenes we have just passed through, we might spend a few hours here pleasantly enough, even though I have nothing but biscuits to regale you with."

"I thought, Richard, we had no singing-birds in my country," said Bessy, with a touch of the old spirit in her tone, though greatly saddened.

"Oh, yes, you have, dearest," I. answered; "I have found one since, which I will still try to cage." Oh, the bright light that sometimes breaks through a dark cloud! Gloom, sorrow, fear had beset us during the whole of the preceding night and that eventful morning; but every step, every moment, had strengthened the bonds between Bessy's heart and mine as we went on together in the truest and most touching relation of woman to man--the protected and the protector. The agitation and the danger, too, lent the charm of contrast to the comparative calm and security with which we sat in that sequestered spot uncrossed by any path; and, as we partook of our scanty meal, with my arm supporting her waist, and her shoulder partly resting on my bosom, we both tasted a kind of happiness, only brightened by the gloom of all around, which is seldom vouchsafed to any in the course of this troublesome life.