The pouring rain felt icy cold against her fevered skin, and she staggered as she tried to make her exhausted body obey her commands. Her only defense...against the dangers of the forest was a heavy stick, nearly as long as she was tall, crudely sharpened against rough stones until it could serve as both club and spear.She peered through the gathering darkness, trying to find the faint trail that she'd been following all of these weary days, but in the gloom one opening between the trees looked. We went up to the door together and Beall knocked. A well-dressed, old black man answered and said, very polite, that Mr. Peter was at home and would we come in and wait. We did and stood admiring the papered walls, painted wainscot, tall clock, high ceilings and gold-framed pictures.Pretty soon, here came the master of the house, without a wig and in a black suit and soft shoes. His forehead was high, and his hair was thin, gray and cut short where it showed near his soft cap. He didn't offer. More

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