Once on the other side, I discovered that I had made a third mistake-- equally as provoking as the second--I had arrived _too soon_! Golden-hair was away up among the tangle of the tree-tops. I could see her bright face gleaming through the branches--now and then hidden by the broad leaves of the bignonias that laced them together. To make me still more miserable, I fancied that she was moving with a _studied slowness_! I had already reached that point, where the path parted from the log. I dared not pause: there was no excuse for it. Not the shadow of one could I think of; and, with a lingering towards that glittering attraction, I reluctantly headed my horse to the forest. A last glance over my shoulder disclosed no improvement in my situation: she was still behind the trellised leaf-work of the bignonias, where she had stayed perhaps to pluck a flower. "Happier far if I had never seen her!" was the reflection that occurred to me, as I entered the gloomy shadow of the trees--less gloomy than my own thoughts. With one circumstance I now reproached myself: why had I been so shy with this forest damsel? The very way to secure her indifference. Why had I not _spoken_ to her, if only in commonplace? Even "Good-day" would have promised me a response; and the result could not have been more unfavourable. Why the deuce had I not bidden her "Good-day"? I should have heard her voice--no doubt an additional charm--for I never yet saw a beautiful woman with a harsh voice; and I fear the inverse proposition is equally true. Why passed I without speaking? No doubt, she deems me a _yokel_! Perhaps it was my very shyness she was smiling at? S'death! what a simpleton--Ho! what do I hear? A woman's voice--a cry?--of terror? There again!--a scream! the words, "Help, oh! help!" Is it she who is calling? Yes--yes it is she! By such strange sounds were my reflections interrupted. Turning my horse with a wrench, I urged him back along the path. I was yet scarcely a dozen lengths from the log--for the reflections above detailed were but the thoughts of a moment. Half-a-dozen bounds of my steed brought me back to the edge of a standing timber--where I pulled up, to ascertain the purport of this singular summons that had reached me.