"On the day of my arrival here, I was again benighted within a few miles of Belville, and again found my way into Christendom by a delightful custom which prevails among your city refugees. You know that they have a little village erected here among your sandhills, which is entirely owned by wealthy residents of Charleston; to these they retire during the sickly season, and of course they are now full of fashionables. Before each door is a large wooden pillar, with a hearth on the top of it, a kind of rude imitation of our urn. On these they kindle pine-knot fires to keep the mosquitoes away from the premises, and the effect is doubtless at all times brilliant; but it is doubly so when they are the means of restoring a poor benighted traveller to the region of hope and comfort; such was the case with your humble servant. I had but just begun to look out for the usual concert, and the Frying-pan, and the swamp, when I discovered these fires away to my right; I was not more than a mile out of my road. "This little mushroom village was entirely deserted when I passed through it before; I was therefore surprised to find carriages standing by each cabin, and fine ladies promenading along the sandy roads with their attendant beaux. "Sounds of infantile laughter, sweet music, and the still sweeter notes of frying-pans (very different affairs from my assortment), saluted my delighted ears as I cantered through the encamped throng. I did not stop, because the distance was but short to your own house, at which I soon arrived, and, for once in my life, not before I was wanted. "As I briskly rode up the long sandy avenue, I heard a strange confusion of noises and sounds from the direction of the quarter, which you have here dangerously near, but from benevolent views I suppose; I next discovered Bell walking to and fro along the little esplanade which surmounts the front portico, wringing her hands, weeping, and calling upon your mother's name most piteously. I dismounted, and ran towards the nearest entrance with all my speed, and there I met the dear girl, just in time to catch her in my arms for fear of a worse resting-place. As soon as she had recovered a little from her exhaustion, the effect of her previous excitement, she exclaimed, 'Oh! Mr. Randolph, how glad I am to see you!' "'Not more so than I am to see you, my dear Bell; but tell me the cause of all this noise at the quarter, and of your alarm.'