He followed her about, joined her in her walks, surprised her in her solitude; he would take no hint from her avoidance, no offense at her coldness, no rebuff from her rudeness; but would take her hand with such a pressure, look at her with such a gaze, speak to her in such a tone as would make the girl's blood run cold with a horrible abhorrence which she could not comprehend. This went on for a week before the affair came to a crisis. She had stolen out of the house to avoid him. It was a splendid winter day, and very mild for the season. She resolved to take a long walk through the woods, even so far as Chincapin Creek, a mile and a half away. Calling the bulldog, Joshua, after her, she set out with a brisk step over the frozen ground, dry with stubble and shining with frost, and through the bare wood, still glittering with icicles, that were, however, fast melting under the sun's rays. When she reached Chincapin Creek she sat down on a large stone, over which she had thrown an extra shawl, and she rested in the thought that there at least she might remain for a little time without being disturbed either by the intrusion of her "black beast" or by a summons to attend him. But she was mistaken. He, who had watched her every movement, and even by some devilish inspiration seemed to know her every intention beforehand--he, lurking in the shade of the curtain, and looking from his chamber window, had seen her come out of the house, warmly dressed in her quaint walking suit of a brown cloth winter cloak "all buttoned up before," and brown beaver poke bonnet tied down under her chin, cross the lawn and pass out of the south gate toward the woods beyond--followed by the faithful house dog. He knew instinctively why she had left the house and where she was going. He waited until she had entered the wood, and then he left his hiding place, drew on his overcoat, took his hat and gloves, went downstairs and left the house in pursuit of her. He walked fast until he came into the woods, where he heard her voice a few rods ahead of him talking to her dog. Then he slackened his pace and walked softly behind her. The closeness of the undergrowth prevented him from catching even a glimpse of her little poke bonnet; but he still heard her talking to her dog. Presently these sounds ceased, and he crept cautiously on and found her sitting on a stone at the further end of the rustic bridge that crossed Chincapin Creek, with the dog lying at her feet. Joshua never could abide Anglesea, and his threatening growl was the first warning that Odalite had of the approach of her natural enemy. "You should not walk alone in these woods, my dear Miss Force," he said, coming up to her side and leaning on the railing of the bridge as he bent over her.