s closed and she
fell asleep to the sound of the water beating against the side of her
skiff.

CHAPTER VII

THE RESCUE

When Madge opened her eyes the sun was shining into them. It was already
broad daylight. Her boat was no longer held fast between rocks. In the
night it had made its own way out and had floated toward the land. It
was now only a few yards from the shore. With her one oar Madge pushed
herself gently toward land.

Hills rose up along the river bank. The farmhouses lay farther back, she
supposed. Certainly she had not the faintest idea where she was. The
hills were thickly covered with scrub oaks and pines. She had not landed
in a friendly spot. It was far more deserted than any place that she had
ever noticed along the Rappahannock. At least, so she thought in the
gray dawn of the August morning. Yet she knew that there were plenty of
kind people who would be glad to help her if she could get over the
hills to their homes.

From the appearance of Madge's clothes she might easily have been
mistaken for a tramp. Her long coat was wet to her ankles and her shoes
and stockings were muddy. She had long since lost her little cap and
her hair was rough and tumbled from her night's sleep in the boat, while
her face was white and haggard. Instead of following the line of the
river, where she was sure to find some life stirring in another hour or
so, Madge foolishly pushed up over the hill. She did not find a path, so
she might have guessed that she was off the beaten track. She must have
walked up the hill for half a mile when she saw a sight that at last
gave her hope. An old, broken-down horse was tethered to a tree, eating
grass. Surely he was a sign-post to some human habitation farther on.

Madge spied a cornfield to the left of her, though some distance off.
She knew that the Virginia farmers cultivated the low hills for their
crops, and that she was near some house. She sniffed the fresh morning
air. A delicious odor wafted toward her, the smell of boiling coffee,
which came from the thickest part of the hillside, away to the right of
the cornfield.

Madge made straight for it. She had to push aside branches and
underbrush, and the place was farther off than she supposed, but she
found it at last. Seated on the ground before a small fire was an old
woman, the oldest the little captain had ever seen. She was
weather-beaten and brown, withered like a crumpled autumn leaf. She was
roasting s