Cruel As The Grave

"I should judge not, though I am not familiar enough with the habits of

such gentry to give a decided opinion," said farmer Howe.

"You'll excuse me, sir; but I'm a lone widow living here, and not used

to seeing much of anybody but my old neighbors, which come occasionally

to enjoy of themselves; and I do mistrust most strangers--though not

you, sir, with your darter, as I said before--but most other strangers,

because they do say hereabouts that it was a stranger to the place, a

red-headed man, as put up at the inn at Blackville that night, and never

was seen afterwards, as did that murder at Black Hall."

"Ah! do they say that? I thought they laid it on a lady," observed

farmer Howe.

"La, sir! the idee of a lady doing such a thing! and a rale high-born

lady of quality like Mrs. Burns, or whatever her name was, and doing of

it to one she had took in for charity too; 'tan't likely, sir."

"But you know, I suppose, that they did accuse a lady?"

"Oh, yes; I know they did, and that the poor lady had to ran away and go

to Annapolis. But that was that Blackville set, that an't got no sense;

but as for us, over this side, we believe it was that red-headed

stranger as did it."

"There's no doubt of it in the world," said farmer Howe, recklessly,

feeling that he was expected to say something.

And at this moment he looked towards Sybil, and saw that she could not

endure the subject of discussion for one moment longer, so he turned to

the landlady, and said: "We have travelled some distance, and feel very tired and hungry. Would

you oblige us with supper as soon as possible? We do not need much, only

let it be nice and warm."

"Surely, sir, it is late; but we will do the best we can for you," said

the landlady, hurrying away.

Mr. Berners stooped to whisper to his wife.

"Sybil, darling, I hail this woman's faith as a good omen. Keep up your

courage, and--remain in that shady corner until I come back. I am going

out to the stable to see that our horses are properly attended to."

And then Lyon left the room.

By the time he returned a table was set in that parlor, and a good

supper spread for the travellers.

When it was over, the landlady showed them to a couple of communicating

rooms up stairs, where they passed a very comfortable night.

At daybreak the next morning they arose and breakfasted, and resumed

their journey.

Lyon Berners again consulted his map of the State and his pocket

compass, and laid out his road. It lay for all that day up and down, in

and out, among the wildest passes of the Allegheny Mountains. At noon

they stopped for an hour, to rest and refresh themselves and their

horses, and then again went forward. At night they reached another

hamlet at the foot of the mountain range. They put up at this hamlet,

which was called Dunville, and which boasted one tavern kept by an old

Revolutionary pensioner called Purley.