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Stockton, Frank Richard, 1834-1902

"The House of Martha"

Leaving the stream behind me, it was
not long before I came to a rude pathway; and although this seemed to
follow the general direction of the creek, I determined to turn aside
from the course I was taking and follow it. After walking for nearly a
mile, sometimes seeing the waters of the stream, and sometimes entirely
losing sight of them, I found the path making an abrupt turn, and in a
few minutes was out of the woods.
The country before me was very much like that about Captain Jabe's
residence. There were low rolling hills covered with coarse grass and
ragged shrubbery, with here and there a cluster of trees. Not a sign of
human habitation was in sight. Reaching the top of a small hill, I saw
at my right, and not very far before me, a wide expanse of water. This I
concluded must be the bay, although I had not expected to see it in this
direction.
I went down the hill toward the shore. "If what I seek is in reality," I
said to myself, "it will naturally love to live somewhere near the
water." Near the beach I struck a path again, and this I followed, my
mind greatly agitated by the thoughts of what I might discover, as well
as by the fear that I might discover nothing.
After a walk of perhaps a quarter of an hour I stopped suddenly.


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