To this day I do not know the secret of it, but I sat there silently staring out into the night.
I could see a little now, becoming aware that dawn was approaching, the sky shading to a dull gray in the east, and casting a weird light over the landscape.

It was a gloomy scene of desolation, the road a mere ribbon, overgrown with grass and weeds, a soggy marsh on one side, and a line of sand-hills on the other, sparsely covered by some stunted growth.

Far away, across the level, my eyes caught a glimmer of water, locating the river, but in no direction was there any sign of a house, or curl of smoke.

The unproductive land--barren and swampy--sufficiently accounted for lack of inhabitants, and told why it had been avoided by the foragers of both armies.

Seeking safety the girl had chosen her course wisely--here was desolation so complete as to mock even at the ravages of war.