But there was one who, night and day, pondered in her mind the best way of saving Anna from the living death to which she would surely awake, when it was too late.  At last she resolved on going herself to Captain Atherton, telling him just how it was, and if there was a spark of generosity in his nature, she thought he would release her cousin.  But this plan required much caution, for she would not have her uncle’s family know of it, and if she failed, she preferred that it should be kept a secret from the world.  There was then no alternative but to go in the night, and alone.  She did not now often sit with the family, and she knew they would not miss her.  So, one evening when they were as usual assembled in the parlor, she stole softly from the house, and managing to pass the negro quarters unobserved, she went down to the lower stable, where she saddled the pony she was now accustomed to ride, and leading him by a circuitous path out upon the turnpike, mounted and rode away.

The night was moonless, and the starlight obscured by heavy clouds, but the pale face and golden curls of Anna, for whose sake she was there alone, gleamed on her in the darkness, and ’Lena was not afraid.  Once—­twice—­she thought she caught the sound of another horse’s hoofs, but when she stopped to listen, all was still, and again she pressed forward, while her pursuer (for ’Lena was followed) kept at a greater distance.  Durward had been to Frankfort, and on his way home had stopped at Maple Grove to deliver a package.  Stopping only a moment, he reached the turnpike just after ’Lena struck into it.  Thinking it was a servant, he was about to pass her, when her horse sheered at something on the road-side, and involuntarily she exclaimed, “Courage, Dido, there’s nothing to fear.”

Instantly he recognized her voice, and was about to overtake and speak to her, but thinking that her mission was a secret one, or she would not be there alone, he desisted.  Still he could not leave her thus.  Her safety might be endangered, and reining in his steed, and accommodating his pace to hers, he followed without her knowledge.  On she went until she reached the avenue leading to “Sunnyside,” as Captain Atherton termed his residence, and there she stopped, going on foot to the house, while, hidden by the deep darkness Durward waited and watched.

Half timidly ’Lena rang the door-bell, dropping her veil over her face that she might not be recognized.  “I want to see your master,” she said to the woman who answered her ring, and who in some astonishment replied, “Bless you, miss, Mas’r Atherton done gone to Lexington and won’t be home till to-morry.”

“Gone!” repeated ’Lena in a disappointed tone.  “Oh, I’m so sorry.”

“Is you the new miss what’s comin’ here to live?” asked the negro, who was Captain Atherton’s house keeper.

Instantly the awkwardness of her position flashed upon ’Lena, but resolving to put a bold face on the matter, she removed her veil, saying, playfully, “You know me now, Aunt Martha.”