Three days were spent by Mrs.Miller in this endeavor, but without success.
Four weeks had elapsed, and the storm of the old lady's temper had somewhat subsided, when, one evening, as she was approaching her daughter's residence, she saw Henry walking, in the direction of where the quadroon was supposed to reside.

Feeling satisfied that the young man had not seen her, the old women at once resolved to follow him.
Linwood's boots squeaked so loudly that Mrs.Miller had no difficulty in following him without being herself observed.
After a walk of about two miles, the young man turned into a narrow and unfrequented road, and soon entered the cottage occupied by Isabella.
It was a fine starlight night, and the moon was just rising when they got to their journey's end.

As usual, Isabella met Henry with a smile, and expressed her fears regarding his health.
Hours passed, and still old Mrs.Miller remained near the house, determined to know who lived there.

When she undertook to ferret out anything, she bent her whole energies to it.

As Michael Angelo, who subjected all things to his pursuit and the idea he had formed of it, painted the crucifixion by the side of a writhing slave and would have broken up the true cross for pencils, so Mrs.Miller would have entered the sepulchre, if she could have done it, in search of an object she wished to find.
The full moon had risen, and was pouring its beams upon surrounding objects as Henry stepped from Isabella's door, and looking at his watch, said,-- "I must go, dear; it is now half-past ten." Had little Clotelle been awake, she too would have been at the door.