Oh, Cousin Ruth, what shall we do ?" Ruth hesitated.

They were nearing the steep pitch, where the firs overhung the road, which was cut out between huge bowlders of rock and sandstone.

The ground rose rough and precipitous on their right, and fell away to their left.

Just over the brow of the hill, out of sight, was, as she well knew, the second gate.

The noise in the brushwood had ceased.