It was plain she must change her course, but which way should she go?  She was completely turned around.  After all, what mattered it?  One way might be as good as another, so it led not home to the cabin which could never be home again.  Why not give the horse his head, and let him pick out a safe path?  Was there danger that he might carry her back to the cabin again, after all?  Horses did that sometimes.  But at least he could guide through this maze of perplexity till some surer place was reached.  She gave him a sign, and he moved on, nimbly picking a way for his feet.

They entered a forest growth where weird branches let the pale moon through in splashes and patches, and grim moving figures seemed to chase them from every shadowy tree-trunk.  It was a terrible experience to the girl.  Sometimes she shut her eyes and held to the saddle, that she might not see and be filled with this frenzy of things, living or dead, following her.  Sometimes a real black shadow crept across the path, and slipped into the engulfing darkness of the undergrowth to gleam with yellow-lighted eyes upon the intruders.

But the forest did not last forever, and the moon was not yet gone when they emerged presently upon the rough mountain-side.  The girl studied the moon then, and saw by the way it was setting that after all they were going in the right general direction.  That gave a little comfort until she made herself believe that in some way she might have made a mistake and gone the wrong way from the graves, and so be coming up to the cabin after all.

It was a terrible night.  Every step of the way some new horror was presented to her imagination.  Once she had to cross a wild little stream, rocky and uncertain in its bed, with slippery, precipitous banks; and twice in climbing a steep incline she came sharp upon sheer precipices down into a rocky gorge, where the moonlight seemed repelled by dark, bristling evergreen trees growing half-way up the sides.  She could hear the rush and clamor of a tumbling mountain stream in the depths below.  Once she fancied she heard a distant shot, and the horse pricked up his ears, and went forward excitedly.

But at last the dawn contended with the night, and in the east a faint pink flush crept up.  Down in the valley a mist like a white feather rose gently into a white cloud, and obscured everything.  She wished she might carry the wall of white with her to shield her.  She had longed for the dawn; and now, as it came with sudden light and clear revealing of the things about her, it was almost worse than night, so dreadful were the dangers when clearly seen, so dangerous the chasms, so angry the mountain torrents.

With the dawn came the new terror of being followed.  The man would have no fear to come to her in the morning, for murdered men were not supposed to haunt their homes after the sun was up, and murderers were always courageous in the day.  He might the sooner come, and find her gone, and perhaps follow; for she felt that he was not one easily to give up an object he coveted, and she had seen in his evil face that which made her fear unspeakably.