nd
over again and she promised to convey every word to Sarah. We neared
Scheimer's house about six o'clock, and when we were a little way from
there I told Mary to get out, so as to excite no suspicions as to who I
was; she did so, and I waited till I saw her go into the house, and then
drove rapidly by towards the Belvidere bridge, and was safely at Oxford
by nightfall. I told my friend, the landlord, what I had done, and he
said that everything was well planned. He also promised to go with me
next day to assist me if necessary, and, said he:

"If everything is all right, do you carry off the girl and I'll walk
up to Belvidere; but don't bring Sarah this way--head toward Water Gap.
When you're married fast and sure, you can come back here as leisurely
as you're a mind to, and nobody can lay a hand upon you or her."

We arranged some other minor details of our expedition and I went to
bed.

The next afternoon at four o'clock I was at the appointed place, and
Boston Yankee was with me. I did not look for Sarah before five o'clock,
so we tied our horse and kept a good watch upon the road. An hour went
by and no Sarah appeared. I told Boston Yankee I did not believe she
would come.

"Don't be impatient; wait a little longer," said my friend.

In twenty minutes we saw emerge, not from Scheimer's house, but from his
eldest son's house, which was still nearer to the place where we were
waiting, three women, two of whom I recognized as Sarah and Mary, and
the third I did not know, nor could I imagine why she was with the other
two; but as I saw them, leaving Boston Yankee in the woods, I drove the
horse down into the road. As Sarah drew near she kissed her hand to me
and came up to the wagon. "Are you ready to go with me?" I asked. "I
am, indeed," was her reply, and I put out my hand to help her into the
buggy. But the third woman caught hold of her dress, tried to prevent
her from getting in, and began to scream so as to attract attention at
Sarah's brother's house. I told the woman to let her go, and threatened
her with my whip. "Get away," shouted Boston Yankee, who had come upon
the scene. "Drive as fast as you can; never mind if you kill the horse."

We started; the woman still shouting for help, and I drove on as rapidly
as the horse would go. When we had gone on a mile or two, I asked
Sarah what all this meant? She told me that the woman was her brother's
servant; that Mary and herself left her father's house a li