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Having determined which way to pursue, he pushed his horse into a gallop, and entered the forest as the last rays of the sun trembled on the mountains. The thick foliage of the trees threw a gloom around, which was every moment deepened by the shades of evening. The path was uninterrupted, and the count continued to follow it till all distinction was confounded in the veil of night. Total darkness now made it impossible for him to pursue his way. He dismounted, and fastening his horse to a tree, climbed among the branches, purposing to remain there till morning. Julia could make no reply, but by pressing to her lips the hand which was held forth to her, she saw all the wretchedness of her situation; and her fearful uncertainty concerning Hippolitus and Ferdinand, formed no inferior part of her affliction. The breeze wafted the ship gently along for some hours, when it gradually sunk into a calm. The glassy surface of the waters was not curled by the lightest air, and the vessel floated heavily on the bosom of the deep. Sicily was yet in view, and the present delay agitated Julia with wild apprehension. Towards the close of day a light breeze sprang up, but it blew from Italy, and a train of dark vapours emerged from the verge of the horizon, which gradually accumulating, the heavens became entirely overcast. The evening shut in suddenly; the rising wind, the heavy clouds that loaded the atmosphere, and the thunder which murmured afar off terrified Julia, and threatened a violent storm..
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Feather-in-the-Wind! Perhaps the Indian would miss him and sound the alarm? Besides, Bob had asked him to look out for trouble with the Mexicans and perhaps, just perhaps, he might tell Mr. Whitney. Suppose, for instance, that he went to her house for a little call, as he often did, for Mother liked him to go—and Aunt Grenertsen sometimes had exceedingly good cakes which she called “half moons”; and just now there were these delicious ripe apples. During such calls she could be remarkably disagreeable. “What is the weather today?” she would say; and before he could answer, would add “Oh, well! No use asking you. Children never notice the weather.” Or, “What kind of fish is there nowadays at the wharf?—but you wouldn’t know that.” Or, “Who is to preach tomorrow? Well there! I wonder at my asking you.” One hot noontide he and Eric lay on the wharf in the baking sunshine. It was not Pilot Taraldsen’s wharf near the house, but the old wharf beyond the woods. “I just drifted. I followed the harvest westward and then I had a chance to take some cattle down to Colorado. It was about then I met Steve Whitney, and he gave me a job, and here I am.”.
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