So that even on this dreary November night, when its clearness was
dimmed by the flight of the wind-hunted clouds, it was able to lighten
in a measure the furthest and darkest reaches of this wild new world. It
touched the mystery of the burial mound; it lifted the misty winding
sheet spread by the swamp; it raised the pall laid along the horizon by
the sable tops of the cypress trees; it reached almost to the darkness
hanging over Duff's Fort--that awful and mysterious blackness--which the
noonday sun could never wholly remove.
But the girl's gaze was not following the moonbeams. Looking neither to
the one side nor the other, she gave a single glance ahead. This was
only to see that she was going straight toward Anvil Rock by the
shortest road. And the one look was enough for she knew that the great
shadowy mass glooming in the dark distance must be what she sought. And
then bending forward and low over the pony's neck, she sent him onward
by an unconscious movement of her own body. She had known how to ride
almost as long as she had known how to walk--the one was an easy and as
natural as the other.
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