s--stepping down into the inn-yard,
who, as soon as he saw Amos, immediately retreated into the house. Had
Amos seen him before? Never, as far as he knew; and yet a strange
suspicion came over him that this was the man who had enticed little
George away, and was also the writer of the pencilled letter. Still, it
might not be so; he had no proof of it; and how was he to ascertain if
it was the case or no? He lingered about the yard for a time, but the
stranger did not again make his appearance; so he strolled out into the
town, and ascertained that Brendon wood was about two miles from
Redbury, and had an old oak in the centre of it. Turning matters over
in his mind, he at last came to the not very comfortable conclusion
that, as the evening was now far advanced, his best course was to put up
for the night in the little town, and betake himself to the wood at an
early hour next day. Grieved as he was to give his friends at home
anxiety by not returning that night, he felt that, if his object was to
be attained, he had better remain where he was; and he was sure that his
aunt would believe that he would not absent himself without good reason,
and would do her best to allay in his father any undue anxiety on his
account. Having come to this conclusion, he returned to the Wheatsheaf
and secured a bed, and then passed the rest of the evening in the
coffee-room, watching very carefully to see if he could catch anywhere
another glimpse of the mysterious stranger, but to no purpose.

After a restless and anxious night he rose early; and, after commending
himself and his cause to God in earnest prayer, set off, after a hasty
breakfast, in the direction given him as leading to the place of
appointment. It was a glorious summer day; and as he rode briskly along
the country road, out of which he soon turned into a long lane skirted
on either side by noble trees, he could not help sighing to think how
man's sin had brought discord and deformity into a world which might
otherwise have been so full of beauty. The wood soon appeared in sight,
and a lonely as well as lovely spot it was. Many bridle-roads
intersected it; he chose one which seemed to lead into the centre, and
in a short time the great oak was visible. There was no mistaking the
venerable forest giant, with its rugged fantastic limbs towering high
above the neighbouring trees. So he made straight for it at once. Amos
was no coward, though naturally of a timid d