University of Virginia Library

21. CHAPTER XXI.
THE DOUBLE ESCAPE.

While Isaline Holcombe was yet carefully feeling
her way through the thick undergrowth, a short
distance from the spot where the Indian guard supposed
her to be still, she was both startled and reassured
at hearing her name pronounced in a whisper.

“I am here,” she answered, in the same cautious
manner, at once stopping and holding her breath.

“Come forward, dear lady, and be saved!” were
the next words that fell upon her ear.

Isaline again moved cautiously forward a few
steps, found herself passing out of a clump of
bushes into a more open wood, and dimly perceived
a shadowy figure gliding up to her.

“Thank fortune, Isaline,” again whispered Hampton,
“we are now beyond the reach of our foes
—for from this time forth I shall count all your
enemies mine!”

“But we have not yet escaped from the dreadful
savages!” returned Isaline, with a shudder. “Even
now the Indian guard is within hearing, and may
discover my flight and pursue me at any moment.”

“We have the night to conceal us.”

“But the day will soon follow, and my past experience
is a proof that it is next to impossible to
escape with such bloodhounds on my trail!”

“We must certainly make the best use of our
time!” returned Hampton. “Here, give me your
hand! There! now follow me, and be careful to
make no sound to betray us!”

For some minutes they moved forward together
in silence; and then Isaline found herself in a wild,
gloomy locality, with a few trees and bushes here
and there, and gigantic rocks lifting their craggy
heads far above her in the solemn night, and the
plash of water sounding dismally in her ear.

“Do you know in what part of the country we
are?” she whispered.

“I have understood from Blodget, that this is the
Kentucky river,” answered Hampton, “and that is
really all I do know about it, being a stranger in
this region as well as yourself.”

“And whither do you propose to conduct me?”

“Just at present my sole object is to escape from
the Indians, and then I will let circumstances determine
my course.”

“But you will take me home to my father?” anxiously
inquired Isaline; “or at least put me in a way
to get there?”

“If I possibly can!” answered Hampton.

He should have said, if he could not possibly avoid
it, for the other was the farthest result from his intentions.
He had persuaded her to leave the savages

and escape with him, from a purely selfish motive—
for matters had taken such a turn, that he knew he
would be compelled to see her given over to another
if he remained, and thus his whole dark scheme
would be brought to naught. If he could manage
to get her away by himself, he had some dim idea
that he could either persuade her to marry him in
the country, or eventually get her through the wilderness
to Canada. Beyond this he had no settled
purpose, but had taken the step in a moment of desperation,
trusting that fortune would eventually
work out matters to his advantage.

As the Indians had gone up the river, Hampton
now turned down; and for a couple of hours he led
Isaline forward, in and out among the rocks and beneath
high, precipitous bluffs, till at last they came
to a place where the water flowed along over a stony
margin, close under an overhanging cliff. To continue
on any further in this direction, without first
going back some distance and ascending the steep,
high bank, they would have to either wade through
the water, which was not deep, or pick their way
along on the top of the stones which here and there
lifted their dark heads above it. Hampton explained
this to Isaline, with the remark:

“If we go back, we shall lose a good deal of valuable
time, besides the chance of breaking our trail,
as we may do here if we continue on.”

“But can we continue on without risk of life?”
anxiously inquired Isaline; “and are you sure that

we shall not meet some obstruction in this direction
that will compel us to turn back at last?”

“I am not sure of anything!” gloomily answered
Hampton; “but it seems to me that we ought to
make the trial here and trust something to luck!”

“Rather say Providence!”

“Providence then, if you like the term better!”

“Providence is God,” rejoined Isaline, solemnly,

“Who is working out His own ends with us, as with
all His creatures, in His own inscrutable way!”

“As you will!” said Hampton, rather coldly: “I
am in no mood just now for a religious discussion.
Well, shall we go forward and make the trial?”

“If you think best.”

“Give me your hand then and follow me carefully.”

Hampton now advanced slowly, leading Isaline,
and cautiously stepping from one stone to another,
holding his rifle in his disengaged hand, and occasionally
using it to keep his balance. In this manner
they slowly picked their way forward for some
quarter of a mile, with the water gurgling and plashing
along at their feet, when they came to a point
where their further progress was barred by a huge
rock jutting sharply out into the river. Both looked
up in dismay at the dark object, which stretched up
gloomily for a hundred feet above them, and Hampton
angrily gave utterance to a wicked oath.

“Here you see what your Providence has led us
to!” was his impious complaint.

“Rather say what your own wickedness has led
us to!” sharply reproved Isaline, on whose refined,
religious nature his irreverent language grated most
harshly. “Look back, Charles Hampton, on your
late course of life, and say, if you can, that you have
deserved anything better!”

“But you, with all your nice, pretty piety, have
deserved something better, have you not?” he retorted,
with an angry sneer; “and it appears to be
as bad for you as for me just now.”

“It is not for me to say that I have deserved anything
better,” returned Isaline; “but this I know,
that, notwithstanding all that has happened, I am as
ready now to put my trust in Providence as at any
period of my life. I may lose my life by the
wicked machinations of those around me,” she
solemnly continued, “but I know there is a life
beyond, `where the wicked cease from troubling and
the weary are at rest,' and at least I will try to so
live here as to be prepared for an eternal existence
there!”

“Well,” rejoined Hampton, “you can please yourself
with what fancies you choose; but I'm not agoing
to trouble myself about any life but this—because,
to tell the truth, I don't believe in any other. If
there is any Providence that has led us into this fix,
I should like to see it get us out—and then, and just
to that extent, I will believe in it. If Providence
cares for you, who have so much faith in it, let it

direct you now to escape from the savage crew that
will sooner or later be howling after you!”

“Charles Hampton, do you believe in a God at
all?” asked Isaline, looking full into his troubled
face, by the dim light of the stars, as she stood there,
in that wild, gloomy place, with the huge rocks
frowning above her head and the dark river rolling
sullenly along at her feet.

“No matter what I believe in!” he angrily replied;
“this is no time for catechising! I have
heard there is a God; but it is something I never
troubled myself about, and don't intend to at present.
I know we have got ourselves into difficulty
here; and how to get out of it, in the best manner,
is what most concerns me now. We have either
got to go back, or scale this cliff; and we have got
to do something — quick, or we may soon find
ourselves caught by the infernal Indians, who, considering
that we have been running away from
them, will not be likely to treat either of us in the
most gentle manner. A — pretty fix I am in,”
he continued, with a kind of savage bitterness,
“with every man's hand against me, like a cursed
Ishmaelite, and all because of my wild, mad love
for you, who probably now regard me with abhorrence!
If I fall into the hands of the borderers,
they will doubtless murder me for going over to the
Indians; and if the savages catch me, they may
torture me for running back to the whites; and yet,

Isaline Holcombe, I did both for your sake, and
yours alone—did both that I might save you!”

“At all events,” said Isaline, with a touch of compassion—for
she, it must be borne in mind, knew
nothing of the real secret which influenced his
actions, and had reason to suppose them the unfortunate
result of the passion he professed—“you are
to be pitied; and if you will now conduct me into
the hands of my friends, I promise you my own
forgiveness for the wrong done to me, and will do
all in my power to save you from punishment of any
kind.”

“Well,” sneered the other, “it is something, certainly,
to know that the girl you have distractedly
loved and sacrificed everything for, can afford you
a little pity and even forgiveness for what you have
foolishly done, and that she will do her best not to
have you punished for it! Really, my gratitude is
most profound! and if I do not at once kneel and
pour out my thanks in the most humble manner,
it must be attributed, not to a lack of desire, but to
the fact that the rushing water here below me makes
it so difficult and unpleasant to perform!”

“You are very unreasonable!” returned Isaline.
“I did but speak in accordance with your own assertion,
and now you seem disposed to quarrel with me
for it!”

“Well, perhaps I am unreasonable,” said Hampton,
after a moment's reflection, “for I am a harassed
and disappointed man. Let it pass! and let us give

our whole consideration to our disagreeable predicament
here! Must we go back, and lose so much
valuable time? to say nothing of returning toward
the jaws of danger! Can we not scale this cliff in
some way?”

“Impossible, I think, and certainly dangerous!”
said Isaline.

“Stay you here a minute till I examine it!” he
rejoined.

As he spoke, he moved back a few feet, close up
to the base of the huge rock; and then, to the
astonishment of Isaline, he suddenly disappeared
from her view, as if he had vanished into thin air.
She waited two or three minutes, wondering at the
mystery, and then pronounced his name. No
answer. She repeated it in a louder tone. Still no
answer. A chilly feeling of alarm, deepened by
awe, began to steal over her. What did it, what
could it, mean? Had he sunk into the water? or
fallen into a pit? While she yet stood looking,
thrilled by a strange kind of fear, she was more
than ever mystified and startled at seeing something
like a spark of fire move slowly about, as if in the
centre of the huge black rock. Soon it disappeared,
and all was dark again. Isaline began to tremble,
but kept her eyes riveted on the same place, with a
weird-like fascination. More minutes went by, and
she still stood there, growing cold and marble-like.
Then the spark of fire reappeared, and seemed to be
coming toward her from the depth of the rock.

She would have turned and fled now, but she had
no power. She felt herself spell-bound by the mystery.
The next minute, however, she experienced a
thrill of relief at hearing her name pronounced by
the voice of Hampton; and immediately after his
form appeared, coming out of the darkness.

“I must confess,” he said, “your Providence has
done more for us than I expected! I have discovered
a cave here, that for the present may afford
us the security we are seeking. I struck a light,
and explored it for some distance; and would have
gone further, only that I did not care to burn up my
pine splints, and was afraid you would become
alarmed at my absence.”

This explained the whole mystery to Isaline, who
drew a long breath of relief, though the sudden reaction
left her weak and trembling.

“But what advantage will this cave be to us?”
she asked.

“I think we had better conceal ourselves in it
while there may be any danger of pursuit from the
Indians!” he replied.

“But may they not trace us to this place?”

“If they were to make the attempt and take time
enough, unquestionably they could do so,” answered
Hampton; “but you must bear in mind, my dear
girl, that their motive for recapture is not a very
strong one—that they are in an enemy's country—
and that they know there is already an avenging
force of Kentuckians on their trail. They may

follow on our trail in the morning; but the moment
they find any difficulty in tracing us—as I think
they will, if they come to the point where we passed
under this cliff—it is my opinion they will abandon
the search and push on to save themselves.”

“Similar calculations of safety were made when
I was pursued before,” rejoined Isaline, “and yet
they only served to prolong the time of capture.”

“Yes, but how different the circumstances!” returned
Hampton. “In that case the pursuers felt
in no danger of being pursued; and, more than that,
I myself was with them, urging them on whenever
their zeal began to slacken. Had it not been for
me, I think they would have abandoned the chase
with the close of the first day.”

“And yet,” rejoined Isaline, in a sharp, angry
tone, “you have had the assurance to stand up before
me, and seek my approval, sympathy and gratitude,
for having got yourself into difficulty in trying to
save me! In trying to save me from what, in
Heaven's name? From the hands of my friends, to
put me into the hands of my enemies?”

“Oh, now you are trying to see everything in a
distorted light!” muttered Hampton. “But I'm not
agoing to argue the matter with you! If you don't
choose to understand it, as I have explained it, then
think what you like, and make the most of it!
Whenever you are ready, I will conduct you into
the cave, and do what I can to guard you from
danger!”

“I am ready now!” returned Isaline.

Hampton gave her his hand, and led her forward
in silence. The mouth of the cave was narrow, and
scarcely higher than their heads; and Isaline shuddered
as she passed through it, with such a conductor,
into the awful darkness beyond. A man without
principle, or belief in a God, or a Hereafter—what
assurance could she have against violence at his
hands?

“From what little I saw of this cavern, I think it
is large, and extends far back,” he said; “but we
will not attempt to explore it now. Here, it is my
opinion, we had better pass the night, and, if possible,
I want you to get some sleep. Fortunately I
have a blanket with me—having first hid it in the
wood, before I set off with the Indians, and recovered
it after my return—and if you will wrap
yourself up in it and lie down here, I will keep
guard over you till morning.”

In how many ways did this present flight from
the Indians remind Isaline of the other! and yet in
one respect how vastly different! The form that
was a pleasure to her sight, the voice that was a
melody in her soul, the great, brave, true noble
heart, beating only for her, were wanting, and had
no resemblance in the form here that would stand
between her and danger, the voice here that could
speak tender words, or the heart here that professed
its love. With Henry Colburn it would be happiness

for her to share danger—with Charles Hampton
it would be misery for her to share safety.

To the proposition of Hampton, that she should
lie down and endeavor to get some sleep, Isaline
offered no objection—for as well sleep, she thought,
as remain awake—better, in fact, if she could refresh
nature and get rid of some painful hours. So She
felt out a suitable place on the rocky floor of the
cavern, and was soon at rest in body and oblivious
to the troubles that had so oppressed her.

When Isaline next awoke, it was not only broad
daylight, but she could see the sun shining low down
on the rocks on the opposite side of the river, showing
that nearly half of the morning had passed
away. She looked around, and perceived her companion
and guard stretched out asleep, a few feet
from her, with his face resting on his arms and his
rifle by his side. She spoke to him, but he did not
hear her; and not particularly caring to disturb him,
she arose and went to the water, which came up to
the very mouth of the cave, and washed her face and
hands and smoothed out her hair.

Then the idea suddenly came into her mind to
escape from Hampton. Why not? There seemed
to be a good opportunity, and she somehow felt she
had nearly as much to fear from him as from a savage.
He might be less brutal, but more wicked. She
looked around at him. He had not moved, and was
still asleep. In an instant her mind was settled.

She would make the trial, and trust to that Providence
at which he was so disposed to sneer.

At first she thought of hiding herself in the cavern.
She could see it was large, with different passages
extending far back into the darkness, with niches
and angles and secret places in every direction; but
if she were to conceal herself there, might it not be
difficult for her to get out without being discovered?
to say nothing of the danger of becoming so bewildered
among the many turnings as not to be able to
find her way to the entrance again! Why not fly
at once, through the shallow water, along the base
of the cliff, back to some point where she could
clamber up the high, steep bank and gain the forest?
Suppose Hampton were to follow and overtake her?
she would only be his prisoner again as now; but
then suppose she could reach the wood without
being discovered, what little chance would one of his
limited experience in wilderness life have of pursuing
her trail -with the rapid certainty necessary to a
capture? What he had said of the Indians was
probably correct, and there might be little to be
feared from them, and possibly quite as much where
she was as there would be elsewhere. But then
again, supposing herself secured against pursuit,
might she not get lost in the forest, and be unable to
find her way to any habitation, and either starve to
death or be destroyed by some wild beast? Yet
why think more and calculate on unknown chances?
There was danger here, there, everywhere, with God

over all; and why not put her trust in Him and rush
blindly forward? certain only that she must be justified
in seeking to free herself from the clutches of
villains and barbarians and preserve her own life.

All these thoughts, that have taken so much space
to record, were but as one thought with Isaline—
flashing through her brain in an instant—and almost
the next moment she was acting on her resolution,
and was leaving the cave in the manner she had approached
it, by stepping from one stone to another.
This she continued to do for some time; and then
dropped down into the water, which was barely a
foot in depth near the shore, and went splashing forward,
in breathless haste, every moment or two
glancing back to see if she was pursued.

Having reached the point where she could leave
the water, she was still obliged to keep along the
base of a high, rocky bluff, for a distance of half a
mile, before she could find a slope that would permit
her to climb to the wood above; and then she had
to creep up slowly, holding on to bushes, and occasionally
pulling herself up short, perpendicular
ascents. In this way she finally gained the top,
panting and trembling, and there sat down, to get
her breath and a few minutes' rest. With an appetite
rendered keen by long fasting and exercise, she
now ate, with sufficient relish, the food she had reserved
for a time of need, and then found her hunger
in a great measure appeased and herself much
strengthened for the work before her.

The scene about her was grand, picturesque and
beautiful—with the rocky bluffs, the hills, the dales,
the woods, the glades, and the dark blue river winding
round among them all—but Isaline had no time
and thought for anything beyond her own condition.
Here she was now, a poor, unprotected girl, alone in
the great, almost pathless, wilderness, seeking to
escape from dusky savages and white villains, exposed
to the perils from wild beasts and serpents
and the danger of starvation; and this was enough
for all the thoughts of her poor, throbbing brain.
After a short rest, and an earnest prayer for protection
and deliverance, she started up to resume
her flight.

“The right way, O Heavenly Father!” she again
prayed; “let my trembling steps be directed in the
right way! that I may now be saved, and not again
fall into the hands of my enemies!”

At that moment she heard, or fancied she heard,
her name called by a distant voice—the voice, as
she believed, of Charles Hampton—and she trembled
in every limb.

“He must not find me!” she thought; “I must
not fall into the hands of that dark, wicked man
again!” and she started and ran forward into the
thick wood; and then continued to run on, knowing
nothing of the way she went, nor whither her steps
were leading her.

Poor Isaline had struggled on for half an hour,
and was still pressing forward, under dark trees and

through thick bushes, when her progress was suddenly
arrested, her breath suspended, and her heart
seemingly stilled, by a series of wild, savage yells,
fierce shouts, and the sharp rattle of fire-arms. The
sounds appeared not to be very distant, even at first,
and gradually drew nearer to where the poor girl
stood. Her frightened senses were not very clear,
but still she comprehended that a desperate battle
had just begun between the whites and Indians.
The Kentuckians had probably pursued and just
come up with their enemies; and here, in her very
presence, as it were, upon ground to which she had
been strangely impelled, the bloody contest was
already taking place which would result in triumph
to friend or foe! If friend, she would be saved! if
foe, she might be lost! And then, thoughts of all
thoughts—to try every nerve, increase every emotion,
and strain almost to bursting her already dizzy
brain—what if Henry Colburn were here in the
strife, and the good God should be pleased to grant
victory to him, and permit the poor captive and
wanderer once more to rest in his protecting arms,
against his manly breast, behold once more his noble
face, and hear once more that voice which was
music to her soul? Or again, what if she should
find him overpowered and slain, or a prisoner in
savage hands, and know all hope and joy in this life
lost forever? Ah! God in Heaven vouchsafe the
one and avert the other!