We had not been five minutes at table when Mr. Wheatley appeared, just as gay and unconcerned as ever; and although I could not help feeling an impression of some heavy thing impending, I joined in the conversation as cheerfully as I could, feeling that it was of no use to think of what was coming, when it could not be avoided. It had been agreed that we should proceed to the ground in Mr. Wheatley's double-seated carriage; and about twenty minutes after we sat down to breakfast, it was announced that the vehicle was at the door. When I went out I found three or four negroes, beside Zed, surrounding the carriage. Mr. Wheatley and I took our seats in front: Billy Byles sprang into the hinder division: Zed scrambled in beside him, with the pistol-case under his arm, and away we went towards the place of encounter. The moment we started I could see two or three of the negro boys take to their heels and run on towards the woods as fast as their legs could carry them; and I could not but think of the speech of the poor old Scotch nobleman when going to be beheaded: "You need not run so fast, boys: there will be no fun till I come." Billy Byles acted as pilot, directing Mr. Wheatley how he was to drive; and I must say a rougher ride I never took in my life; for we went over fields without the slightest pretension to a road; fences we pulled down unceremoniously to let us pass; and I certainly did think more than once that the whole business would end in our getting our necks broken. I was afraid, too, that various evolutions and man[oe]uvres which we had to perform would make us late; and more than once I took out my watch to see how the time went. "Plenty of time, plenty of time," said Billy Byles. "You see that wood there; well, that's the Hunter-wood, and we just cross the narrow part by the path into the savannah, and there we are." The wood was soon reached, and out we all got, for the carriage could go no further. "Here, give me the pistols," said Mr. Byles; "you stay here by the horses: we shall be back in half an hour." And leading the way by a very narrow path, he speedily brought us to that long strip of open ground which I have before described, and which I had passed in pleasant talk with Bessy Davenport. We now struck it considerably higher up, however, and at no great distance from the high road to Jerusalem. But it had a much more melancholy aspect now than when I first saw it. The mist which I have mentioned rested more heavily in that narrow avenue; and the trees cut off all the rays of the sun, who was struggling, as he rose, to disperse the gray clouds that covered the sky. All was sombre and cheerless-looking, and Billy Byles laid down the pistol-case under a live oak-tree, and rubbed his hands as if it had been winter.