The moon was down. The wood, through which we had
to return, was very dark; the ground being low and swampy, and the
trees thick and tall. There was, in particular, one very ugly spot,
where a small creek crossed the road. This creek could only be
passed by foot-passengers scrambling over a fallen tree, which,
in a dark night, was not very easy to find.
I begged a torch of Mr. - -; but no torch could be found. Emilia
laughed at my fears; still, knowing what a coward I was in the bush
of a night, she found up about an inch of candle, which was all that
remained from the evening's entertainment. This she put into an old
lanthorn.
"It will not last you long; but it will carry you over the creek."
This was something gained, and off we set.
It was so dark in the bush, that our dim candle looked like a
solitary red spark in the intense surrounding darkness, and
scarcely served to show us the path.
We went chatting along, talking over the news of the evening,
Hector running on before us, when I saw a pair of eyes glare upon
us from the edge of the swamp, with the green, bright light emitted
by the eyes of a cat.
