consciousness；　it　was　too　late。　　Yuba　Bill　had　discharged　his
  passengers　for　Indian　Spring　and　driven　away。　　Miss　Nellie　was　in
  the　settlement；　but　where？　　As　time　passed　he　became　more
  desperate　and　bolder。　　He　walked　recklessly　up　and　down　the　main
  street；　glancing　in　at　the　open　doors　of　shops；　and　even　in　the
  windows　of　private　dwellings。　　It　might　have　seemed　a　poor
  compliment　to　Miss　Nellie；　but　it　was　an　evidence　of　his　complete
  preoccupation；　when　the　sight　of　a　female　face　at　a　window；　even
  though　it　was　plain　or　perhaps　painted；　caused　his　heart　to
  bound；　or　the　glancing　of　a　skirt　in　the　distance　quickened　his
  feet　and　his　pulses。　　Had　Jack　contented　himself　with　remaining
  at　Excelsior　he　might　have　vaguely　regretted；　but　as　soon　become
  as　vaguely　accustomed　to；　Miss　Nellie's　absence。　　But　it　was　not
  until　his　hitherto　quiet　and　passive　love　took　this　first　step　of
  action　that　it　fully　declared　itself。　　When　he　had　made　the　tour
  of　the　town　a　dozen　times　unsuccessfully；　he　had　perfectly　made
  up　his　mind　that　marriage　with　Nellie　or　the　speedy　death　of
  several　people；　including　possibly　himself；　was　the　only
  alternative。　　He　regretted　he　had　not　accompanied　her；　he
  regretted　he　had　not　demanded　where　she　was　going；　he
  contemplated　a　course　of　future　action　that　two　hours　ago　would
  have　filled　him　with　bashful　terror。　　There　was　clearly　but　one
  thing　to　doto　declare　his　passion　the　instant　he　met　her；　and
  return　with　her　to　Excelsior　an　accepted　suitor；　or　not　to　return
  at　all。
  Suddenly　he　was　vexatiously　conscious　of　hearing　his　name　lazily
  called；　and　looking　up　found　that　he　was　on　the　outskirts　of　the
  town；　and　interrogated　by　two　horsemen。
  〃Got　down　to　walk；　and　the　coach　got　away　from　you；　Jack；　eh？〃
  A　little　ashamed　of　his　preoccupation；　Brace　stammered　something
  about　〃collections。〃　　He　did　not　recognize　the　men；　but　his　own
  face；　name；　and　business　were　familiar　to　everybody　for　fifty
  miles　along　the　stage…road。
  〃Well；　you　can　settle　a　bet　for　us；　I　reckon。　　Bill　Dacre　thar
  bet　me　five　dollars　and　the　drinks　that　a　young　gal　we　met　at　the
  edge　of　the　Carquinez　Woods；　dressed　in　a　long　brown　duster　and
  half　muffled　up　in　a　hood；　was　the　daughter　of　Father　Wynn　of
  Excelsior。　　I　did　not　get　a　fair　look　at　her；　but　it　stands　to
  reason　that　a　high…toned　young　lady　like　Nellie　Wynn　don't　go
  trap'sing　along　the　wood　like　a　Pike　County　tramp。　　I　took　the
  bet。　　May　be　you　know　if　she's　here　or　in　Excelsior？〃
  Mr。　Brace　felt　himself　turning　pale　with　eagerness　and
  excitement。　　But　the　near　prospect　of　seeing　her　presently　gave
  him　back　his　caution；　and　he　answered　truthfully　that　he　had　left
  her　in　Excelsior；　and　that　in　his　two　hours'　sojourn　in　Indian
  Spring　he　had　not　met　her　once。　　〃But；〃　he　added；　with　a
  Californian's　reverence　for　the　sanctity　of　a　bet；　〃I　reckon
  you'd　better　make　it　a　stand…off　for　twenty…four　hours；　and　I'll
  find　out　and　let　you　know。〃　　Which；　it　is　only　fair　to　say；　he
  honestly　intended　to　do。
  With　a　hurried　nod　of　parting；　he　continued　in　the　direction　of
  the　Woods。　　When　he　had　satisfied　himself　that　the　strangers　had
  entered　the　settlement；　and　would　not　follow　him　for　further
  explanation；　he　quickened　his　pace。　　In　half　an　hour　he　passed
  between　two　of　the　gigantic　sentinels　that　guarded　the　entrance
  to　a　trail。　　Here　he　paused　to　collect　his　thoughts。　　The　Woods
  were　vast　in　extent；　the　trail　dim　and　uncertainat　times
  apparently　breaking　off；　or　intersecting　another　trail　as　faint
  as　itself。　　Believing　that　Miss　Nellie　had　diverged　from　the
  highway　only　as　a　momentary　excursion　into　the　shade；　and　that
  she　would　not　dare　to　penetrate　its　more　sombre　and　unknown
  recesses；　he　kept　within　sight　of　the　skirting　plain。　　By　degrees
  the　sedate　influence　of　the　silent　vaults　seemed　to　depress　him。
  The　ardor　of　the　chase　began　to　flag。　　Under　the　calm　of　their
  dim　roof　the　fever　of　his　veins　began　to　subside；　his　pace
  slackened；　he　reasoned　more　deliberately。　　It　was　by　no　means
  probable　that　the　young　woman　in　a　brown　duster　was　Nellie；　it
  was　not　her　habitual　traveling　dress；　it　was　not　like　her　to　walk
  unattended　in　the　road；　there　was　nothing　in　her　tastes　and
  habits　to　take　her　into　this　gloomy　forest；　allowing　that　she　had
  even　entered　it；　and　on　this　absolute　question　of　her　identity
  the　two　witnesses　were　divided。　　He　stopped　irresolutely；　and
  cast　a　last；　long；　half…despairing　look　around　him。　　Hitherto　he
  had　given　that　part　of　the　wood　nearest　the　plain　his　greatest
  attention。　　His　glance　now　sought　its　darker　recesses。　　Suddenly
  he　became　breathless。　　Was　it　a　beam　of　sunlight　that　had　pierced
  the　groined　roof　above；　and　now　rested　against　the　trunk　of　one
  of　the　dimmer；　more　secluded　giants？　　No；　it　was　moving；　even　as
  he　gazed　it　slipped　away；　glanced　against　another　tree；　passed
  across　one　of　the　vaulted　aisles；　and　then　was　lost　again。　　Brief
  as　was　the　glimpse；　he　was　not　mistakenit　was　the　figure　of　a
  woman。
  In　another　moment　he　was　on　her　track；　and　soon　had　the
  satisfaction　of　seeing　her　reappear　at　a　lesser　distance。　　But
  the　continual　intervention　of　the　massive　trunks　made　the　chase
  by　no　means　an　easy　one；　and　as　he　could　not　keep　her　always　in
  sight　he　was　unable　to　follow　or　understand　the　one　intelligent
  direction　which　she　seemed　to　invariably　keep。　　Nevertheless；　he
  gained　upon　her　breathlessly；　and；　thanks　to　the　bark…strewn
  floor；　noiselessly。　　He　was　near　enough　to　distinguish　and
  recognize　the　dress　she　wore；　a　pale　yellow；　that　he　had　admired
  when　he　first　saw　her。　　It　was　Nellie；　unmistakably；　if　it　were
  she　of　the　brown　duster；　she　had　discarded　it；　perhaps　for
  greater　freedom。　　He　was　near　enough　to　call　out　now；　but　a
  sudden　nervous　timidity　overcame　him；　his　lips　grew　dry。　　What
  should　he　say　to　her？　　How　account　for　his　presence？　　〃Miss
  Nellie；　one　moment！〃　he　gasped。　　She　darted　forward　andvanished。
  At　this　moment　he　was　not　more　than　a　dozen　yards　from　her。　　He
  rushed　to　where　she　had　been　standing；　but　her　disappearance　was
  perfect　and　complete。　　He　made　a　circuit　of　the　group　of　trees
  within　whose　radius　she　had　last　appeared；　but　there　was　neither
  trace　of　her；　nor　a　suggestion　of　her　mode　of　escape。　　He　called
  aloud　to　her；　the　vacant　Woods　let　his　helpless　voice　die　in
  their　unresponsive　depths。　　He　gazed　into　the　air　and　down　at　the
  bark…strewn　carpet　at　his　feet。　　Like　most　of　his　vocation；　he
  was　sparing　of　speech；　and　epigrammatic　after　his　fashion。
  Comprehending　in　one　swift　but　despairing　flash　of　intelligence
  the　existence　of　some　fateful　power　beyond　his　own　weak　endeavor；
  he　accepted　its　logical　result　with　characteristic　grimness；
  threw　his　hat　upon　the　ground；　put　his　hands　in　his　pockets；　and
  said
  〃Well；　I'm　dd！〃
  CHAPTER　III。
  Out　of　compliment　to　Miss　Nellie　Wynn；　Yuba　Bill；　on　reaching
  Indian　Spring；　had　made　a　slight　detour　to　enable　him　to
  ostentatiously　set　down　his　fair　passenger　before　the　door　of　the
  Burnhams。　　When　it　had　closed　on　the　admiring　eyes　of　the
  passengers　and　the　coach　had　rattled　away；　Miss　Nellie；　without
  any　undue　haste　or　apparent　change　in　her　usual　quiet　demeanor；
  managed；　however；　to　dispatch　her　business　promptly；　and；　leaving
  an　impression　that　she　would　call　again　before　her　return　to
  Excelsior；　parted　from　her　friends　and　slipped　away　through　a
  side　street　to　the　General　Furnishing　Store　of　Indian　Spring。　　In
  passing　this　emporium；　Miss　Nellie's　quick　eye　had　discovered　a
  cheap　brown　linen　duster　hanging　in　its　window。　　To　purchase　it；
  and　put　it　over　her　delicate　cambric　dress；　albeit　with　a
  shivering　sense　that　she　looked　like　a　badly　folded　brown…paper
  parcel；　did　not　take　long。　　As　she　left　the　shop　it　was　with
  mixed　emotions　of　chagrin　and　security　that　she　noticed　that　her
  passage　through　the　settlement　no　longer　turned　the　heads　of　its
  male　inhabitants。　　She　reached　the　outskirts　of　Indian　Spring　and
  the　high…road　at　about　the　time　Mr。　Brace　had　begun　his　fruitless
  patrol　of　the　main　street。　　Far　in　the　distance　a　faint　olive…
  green　table　mountain　seemed　to　rise　abruptly　from　the　plain。　　It
  was　the　Carquinez　Woods。　　Gathering　her　spotless　skirts　beneath
  her　extemporized　brown　domino；　she　set　out　briskly　towards　them。
  But　her　progress　was　scarcely　free　or　exhilarating。　　She　was　not
  accustomed　to　walking　in　a　country　where　〃buggy…riding〃　was
  considered　the　only　genteel　young…lady…like　mode　of　progression；
  and　its　regular　provision　the　expected　courtesy　of　mankind。
  Always　fastidiously　booted；　her　low…quartered　shoes　were　charming
  to　the　eye；　but　hardly　adapted　to　the　dust　and　inequalities　of
  the　highroad。　　It　was　true　that　she　had　thought　of　buying　a
  coarser　pair　at　Indian　Spring；　but　once　face　to　face　with　their
  uncompromising　ugliness；　she　had　faltered　and　fled。　　The　sun　was
  unmistakably　hot；　but　her　parasol　was　too　well　known　and　offered
  too　violent　a　contrast　to　the　duster　for　practical　use。　　Once　she
  stopped　with　an　exclamation　of　annoyance；　hesitated；　and　looked
  back。　　In　half　an　hour　she　had　twice　lost　her　shoe　and　her
  temper；　a　pink　flush　took　possession　of　her　cheeks；　and　her　eyes
  were　bright　with　suppressed　rage。　　Dust　began　to　form