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Buchan, John, 1875-1940

"Salute to Adventurers"

I searched my pockets, and gave her the remnants
of the bread and bacon I had brought from the Rappahannock post.
Better still, I remembered that I had in my breast a little flask of
eau-de-vie, and a mouthful of it revived her greatly. She put her hands
to her head, and began to tidy her dishevelled hair, which is a sure
sign in a woman that she is recovering her composure.
"What brought you here?" I asked gently.
She had forgotten that I was in her black books, and that in her letter
she forbade my journey. Indeed, she looked at me as a child in a pickle
may look at an upbraiding parent.
"I was lost," she cried. "I did not mean to go far, but the night came
down and I could not find the way back. Oh, it has been a hideous
nightmare! I have been almost mad in the dark woods."
"But how did you get here?" I asked, still hopelessly puzzled.
"I was with Uncle James on the Rappahannock. He heard something that
made him anxious, and he was going back to the Tidewater yesterday. But
a message came for him suddenly, and he left me at Morrison's farm, and
said he would be back by the evening. I did not want to go home before
I had seen the mountains where my estate is--you know, the land that
Governor Francis said he would give me for my birthday.


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