ike the
value of the watch, but the next day saw me with fifty dollars in my
pocket, a small bundle, made up from the most available part of my
wardrobe, under my arm, prepared to walk to Louisa, avowedly to buy
supplies, but with the secret determination to meet there the coal-boats
which were bound for the mouth, ask a passage on them as far as
Catlettsburg, and there take the first steamer that passed, and let it
carry me whither it would.

There was no pause of regret, no delay for parting looks or words; from
the moment that I had made up my mind to go, I felt nothing but a
desperate eagerness to be away, to be in action. The few words necessary
to prepare my step-mother for my ostensible errand were soon said, the
good-morning calmly spoken, and I passed into the forest-path leading to
the town. A pang smote me as I remembered her conscientious discharge of
duty toward me for so many years; but it was duty, not love, that had
urged her, and while I said that to myself, I said, too, that time would
bring to me the opportunity of repaying her.

Toward the settlement on the opposite shore I turned no look. I would
not trust myself; I knew my own weakness too well; this desperate energy
which was carrying me on now would fail, if I allowed my heart one
moment's indulgence. Steadily I walked on through the woods, my own
woods, which, perhaps, I should never see again, till, wearied out by
the exertion, which had precluded thought, I saw the houses of Louisa
rise before me.

The boats lay at the fork above the town. I had informed myself of their
movements, and knew they were to start at noon. A few inquiries for
groceries and so forth, where I know they could not be gotten, gave me
an excuse for the proposition to the captain of the boats to give me a
passage to Catlettsburg. It was readily granted, and the crew, most of
them Sandy men, put up a rough awning, and, spreading under it some
blankets, did their kind uttermost to make me comfortable.

I remember now, as one looks back into a dream, the afternoon and night
that passed before we reached Catlettsburg. I lay perfectly quiet,
watching the shadowy trees as we glided past them, noting their varied
reflections in the water, marking every peculiarity of shore and stream,
hearing the jests and laughter, the words of command and the oaths, that
went round among the boatmen; but all passed as something with which I
had nothing to do. To me there was the burning des