by G. A. Henty
CHAPTER XI.
FUGITIVES.
On leaving the hotel Vincent walked a short distance and then stoppeduntil Dan came up to him.
"Anything de matter, sah?"
"Yes, Dan. There is a notice in the paper that the police have obtainedinformation that I am traveling disguised as a minister, and have anegro servant with me."
"Who told dem dat?" Dan asked in surprise.
"We can talk about that presently, Dan; the great thing at present is toget away from here. The train for the South starts at ten. Give me thebag, and follow me at a distance. I will get you a ticket for Nashville,and as you pass me in the station I will hand it to you. It must not benoticed that we are traveling together. That is the only clew they havegot."
Dan obeyed his instructions. The journey was a long one. The train wasslow and stopped frequently; passengers got in and out at every station.The morning's news from the various points at which the respectiveforces were facing each other was the general topic of conversation, andVincent was interested in seeing how the tone gradually changed as thepassengers from St. Louis one by one left the train and their placeswere taken by those of the more southern districts. At first thesentiment expressed had been violently Northern, and there was nodissent from the general chorus of hope and expectation that the Southwere on their last legs and that the rebellion would shortly be stampedout; but gradually, as the train approached the State of Tennessee, theUnionist opinion, although expressed with even greater force andviolence, was by no means universal. Many men read their papers insilence and took no part whatever in the conversation, but Vincent couldsee from the angry glances which they shot at the speakers that thesentiments uttered were distasteful to them. He himself had scarcelyspoken during the whole journey. He had for some time devoted himself tothe newspaper, and had then purchased a book from the newsboy whoperambulated the cars. Presently a rough-looking man, who had been amongthe wildest and most violent in his denunciation of the South, said,looking at Vincent:
"I see by the papers to-day that one of the cursed rebel officers whogave them the slip at Elmira is traveling in the disguise of a minister.I guess it's mighty unpleasant to know that even if you meet a parson ina train, like as not he is a rebel in disguise. Now, mister, may I askwhere you have come from and where you are going to?"
"You may ask what you like," Vincent said quietly; "but I am certainlynot going to answer impertinent questions."
A hum of approval was heard from several of the passengers.
"If you hadn't got that black coat on," the man said angrily, "I wouldput you off the car in no time."
"Black coat or no black coat," Vincent said, "you may find it moredifficult than you think. My profession is a peaceful one; but even apeaceful man, if assaulted, may defend himself. You say it's unpleasantto know that if you travel with a man in a black coat he may be atraitor. It's quite as unpleasant to me to know that if I travel with aman in a brown one he may be a notorious ruffian, and may as likely asnot have just served his time in a penitentiary."
Two or three of the passengers laughed loudly. The man, starting up,crossed the car to where Vincent was sitting and laid his hand roughlyon his shoulder.
"You have got to get out!" he said. "No man insults Jim Mullens twice."
"Take your hand off my shoulder," Vincent said quietly, "or you will besorry for it."
The man shifted his hold to the collar of Vincent's coat amid cries ofshame from some of the passengers, while the others were silent, eventhose of his own party objecting to an assault upon a minister. It wasonly the fact that the fellow was a notorious local ruffian thatprevented their expressing open disapproval of the act. As the mangrasped Vincent's collar with his right hand Vincent saw his left gounder his coat toward the pocket in the back of the trousers whererevolvers were always carried. In an instant he sprang to his feet, andbefore the man, who was taken by surprise at the suddenness of themovement, could steady himself, he struck him a tremendous blow and atthe same moment springing at his throat, threw him backward on to thefloor of the carriage. As he fell the man drew out his revolver, butVincent grasped his arm and with a sharp twist wrenched the revolverfrom his grasp, and, leaping up, threw it out of the open window. Theruffian rose to his feet for a moment half-dazed by the violence withwhich he had fallen, and poured out a string of imprecations uponVincent. The latter stood calmly awaiting a fresh attack. For a momentthe ruffian hesitated, and then, goaded to fury by the taunting laughterof the lookers-on, was about to spring upon him when he was seized bytwo or three of the passengers.
"I reckon you have made a fool enough of yourself already," one of themsaid; "and we are not going to see a minister ill-treated, not if weknow it."
"You need not hold him," Vincent said. "It is not because one wears ablack coat and is adverse to fighting that one is not able to defendone's self. We all learn the same things at college, whether we aregoing into the Church or any other profession. You can let him alone ifhe really wants any more, which I do not believe. I should be ashamed ofmyself if I could not punish a ruffian of his kind."
"Let me get at him!" yelled Mullens; and the men who held him, takingVincent at his word, released him. He rushed forward, but was receivedwith another tremendous blow on the mouth. He paused a moment in hisrush, and Vincent, springing forward, administered another blow upon thesame spot, knocking him off his legs on to the floor. On getting up hegave no sign of a desire to renew the conflict. His lips were badly cutand the blood was streaming from his mouth, and he looked at Vincentwith an air of absolute bewilderment. The latter, seeing that theconflict was over, quietly resumed his seat; while several of thepassengers came up to him, and, shaking him warmly by the hand,congratulated him upon having punished his assailant.
"I wish we had a few more ministers of your sort down this way," onesaid. "That's the sort of preaching fellows like this understand. It waswell you got his six-shooter out of his hand, for he would have used itas sure as fate. He ought to have been lynched long ago, but since thetroubles began, these fellows have had all their own way. But look toyourself when he gets out; he belongs to a gang who call themselvesUnionists, but who are nothing but plunderers and robbers. If you takemy advice, when you get to the end of your journey you will not leavethe station, but take a ticket straight back North. I tell you your lifewon't be safe five minutes when you once get outside of the town. Theydaren't do anything there, for, though folks have had to put up with agreat deal, they wouldn't stand the shooting of a minister; still,outside the town I would not answer for your life for an hour."
"I have my duties to perform," Vincent said, "and I shall certainlycarry them through; but I am obliged to you for your advice. I can quiteunderstand that ruffian," and he looked at Mullens, who, with hishandkerchief to his mouth, was sitting alone in a corner--for the resthad all drawn away from him in disgust--and glaring ferociously at him,"will revenge himself, if he has the opportunity. However, as far aspossible, I shall be on my guard."
"At any rate," the man said, "I should advise you, when you get toNashville, to charge him with assault. We can all testify that he laidhands on you first. That way he will get locked up for some days anyhow,and you can go away about your business, and he won't know where to findyou when he gets out."
"Thank you--that would be a very good plan; but I might lose a day ortwo in having to appear against him. I am pressed for time and have someimportant business on hand, and I have no doubt I shall be able to throwhim off my track, finish my business, and be off again before he cancome across me."
"Well, I hope no harm will come of it," the other said. "I like you, andI never saw anyone hit so quickly and so hard. It's a downright pity youare a preacher. My name's John Morrison, and my farm is ten miles fromNashville, on the Cumberland River. If you should be going in thatdirection, I should be right glad if you would drop in on me."
The real reason that decided Vincent against following the advice togive his assailant in charge was that
he feared he himself might bequestioned as to the object of his journey and his destination. Thefellow would not improbably say that he believed he was the Confederateofficer who was trying to escape in the disguise of a clergyman and thathe had therefore tried to arrest him. He could, of course, give nogrounds for the accusation, still questions might be asked which wouldbe impossible for him to answer; and, however plausible a story he mightinvent, the lawyer whom the fellow would doubtless employ to defend himmight suggest that the truth of his statements might be easily tested bythe dispatch of a telegram, in which case he would be placed in a mostawkward situation. It was better to run the risk of trouble with thefellow and his gang than to do anything which might lead to inquiriesas to his identity.
When the train reached Nashville, Vincent proceeded to an hotel. It wasalready late in the afternoon, for the journey had occupied more thanthirty hours. As soon as it was dark he went out again and joined Dan,whom he had ordered to follow him at a distance and to be at the cornerof the first turning to the right of the hotel as soon as it becamedark. Dan was at the point agreed upon, and he followed Vincent untilthe latter stopped in a quiet and badly lighted street.
"Things are going badly, Dan. I had a row with a ruffian in the train,and he has got friends here, and this will add greatly to our danger ingetting to our lines. I must get another disguise. What money have youleft?"
"Not a cent, sah. I had only a five-cent piece left when we left St.Louis, and I spent him on bread on de journey."
"That is bad, Dan. I did not think your stock was so nearly expended."
"I had to keep myself, sah, and to pay for de railroad, and to buy demt'ree suits of clothes, and to make de nigger I lodged with a present tokeep him mouth shut."
"Oh, I know you have had lots of expenses, Dan, and I am sure that youhave not wasted your money; but I had not thought about it. I have onlygot ten dollars left, and we may have a hundred and fifty miles totravel before we are safe. Anyhow, you must get another disguise, andtrust to luck for the rest. We have tramped a hundred and fifty milesbefore now without having anything beyond what we could pick up on theroad. Here's the money. Get a rough suit of workingman's clothes, andjoin me here in an hour's time. Let us find out the name of the streetbefore we separate, for we may miss our way and not be able to meetagain."
Passing up into the busy streets, Vincent presently stopped andpurchased a paper of a newsboy who was running along shouting, "Newsfrom the war! Defeat of the rebels! Fight in a railway car nearNashville! A minister punishes a border ruffian!"
"Confound those newspaper fellows!" Vincent muttered to himself as hewalked away. "They pick up every scrap of news. I suppose a reporter gothold of someone who was in the car." Turning down a quiet street, heopened the paper and, by the light of the lamp, read a graphic andminute account of the struggle in the train.
"I won't go back to the hotel," he said to himself. "I shall be havingreporters to interview me. I shall be expected to give them a history ofmy whole life: where I was born, and where I went to school, and whetherI prefer beef to mutton, and whether I drink beer, and a thousand otherthings. No, the sooner I am away the better. As to the hotel, I haveonly had one meal, and they have got the bag with what clothes thereare; that will pay them well." Accordingly, when he rejoined Dan, hetold him that they would start at once.
"It is the best way, anyhow," he said. "To-morrow, no doubt, the fellowI had the row with will be watching the hotel to see which way I go off,but after once seeing me go to the hotel he will not guess that I shallbe starting this evening. What have you got left, Dan?"
"I got two dollars, sah."
"That makes us quite rich men. We will stop at the first shop we come toand lay in a stock of bread and a pound or two of ham."
"And a bottle of rum, sah. Bery wet and cold, sleeping out of doors now,sah. Want a little comfort, anyhow."
"Very well, Dan; I think we can afford that."
"Get one for half a dollar, massa. Could not lay out half a dollarbetter."
Half an hour later they had left Nashville behind them, and weretramping along the road toward the east, Dan carrying a bundle in whichthe provisions were wrapped, and the neck of the bottle of rum stickingout of his pocket. As soon as they were well in the country Vincentchanged his clothes for those Dan had just brought him, and making theothers up into a bundle, continued his way.
"Why you not leave dem black clothes behind, sah? What good take dem widyou?"
"I am not going to carry them far, Dan. The first wood or thick clump ofbushes we come to I shall hide them away; but if you were to leave themhere they would be found the first thing in the morning, and perhaps becarried into the town and handed over to the police, and they might putthat and the fact of my not having returned to the hotel--which is sureto be talked about--together, and come to the conclusion that eitherMullens was right and that I was an escaped Confederate, or that I hadbeen murdered by Mullens. In either case they might get up a search, andperhaps send telegrams to the troops in the towns beyond us. Anyhow,it's best the clothes should not be found."
All night they tramped along, pausing only for half an hour aboutmidnight, when Dan suggested that as he had only had some bread toeat--and not too much of that--during the last forty-eight hours, hethought that he could do with some supper. Accordingly the bundle wasopened, and they sat down and partook of a hearty meal. Dan had wiselytaken the precaution of having the cork drawn from the bottle when hebought it, replacing it so that it could be easily extracted whenrequired, and Vincent acknowledged that the spirit was a not unwelcomeaddition to the meal. When morning broke they had reached Duck's River,a broad stream crossing the road.
Here they drew aside into a thick grove, and determined to get a fewhours' sleep before proceeding. It was nearly midday before they wokeand proceeded to the edge of the trees. Vincent reconnoitered theposition.
"It is just as well we did not try to cross, Dan. I see the tents of atleast a regiment on the other bank. No doubt they are stationed thereto guard the road and railway bridge. This part of the country is prettyequally divided in opinion, though more of the people are for the Souththan for the North; but I know there are guerrilla parties on both sidesmoving about, and if a Confederate band was to pounce down on thesebridges and destroy them it would cut the communication with their armyin front, and put them in a very ugly position if they were defeated. Nodoubt that's why they have stationed that regiment there. Anyhow, itmakes it awkward for us. We should be sure to be questioned where we aregoing, and as I know nothing whatever of the geography of the place, weshould find it very difficult to satisfy them. We must cross the riversomewhere else. There are sure to be some boats somewhere along thebanks; at any rate, the first thing to do is to move further away fromthe road."
They walked for two or three miles across the country. The fields forthe most part were deserted, and although here and there they sawcultivated patches, it was evident that most of the inhabitants hadquitted that part of the country, which had been the scene of almostcontinued fighting from the commencement of the war; the sufferings ofthe inhabitants being greatly heightened by the bands of marauders whomoved about plundering and destroying under the pretense of punishingthose whom they considered hostile to the cause in whosefavor--nominally, at least--they had enrolled themselves. The sight ofruined farms and burned houses roused Vincent's indignation; for inVirginia private property had, up to the time of Pope's assuming commandof the army, been respected, and this phase of civil war was new andvery painful to him.
"It would be a good thing," he said to Dan, "if the generals on bothsides in this district would agree to a month's truce, and join eachother in hunting down and hanging these marauding scoundrels. On ourside Mosby and a few other leaders of bands composed almost entirely ofgentlemen have never been accused of practices of this kind; but, withthese exceptions, there is little to choose between them."
After walking for four or five miles they again sat down till evening,and the
n, going down to the river, endeavored to find a boat by whichthey could cross, but to their disappointment no craft of any kind wasvisible, although in many places there were stages by the riverside,evidently used by farmers for unloading their produce into boats.Vincent concluded at last that at some period of the struggle all theboats must have been collected and either sunk or carried away by one ofthe parties to prevent the other crossing the river.
Hitherto they had carefully avoided all the farmhouses that appeared tobe inhabited; but Vincent now determined to approach one of them andendeavor to gain some information as to the distance from the nextbridge, and whether it was guarded by troops, and to find out, ifpossible, the position in which the Northern forces in Tennessee were atpresent posted--all of which points he was at present ignorant of. Hepassed two or three large farmhouses without entering, for although thegreater part of the male population were away with one or other of thearmies, he might still find two or three hands in such buildings.Besides, it was now late, and whatever the politics of the inmates theywould be suspicious of such late arrivals, and would probably altogetherrefuse them admittance. Accordingly another night was spent in the wood.
The next morning, after walking a mile or two, they saw a house at whichVincent determined to try their fortune. It was small, but seemed tohave belonged to people above the class of farmer. It stood in a littleplantation, and was surrounded by a veranda. Most of the blinds weredown, and Vincent judged that the inmates could not be numerous.
"You remain here, Dan, and I will go and knock at the door. It is betterthat we should not be seen together." Vincent accordingly went forwardand knocked at the door. An old negress opened it.
"We have nothing for tramps," she said. "De house am pretty well clearedout ob eberything." She was about to shut the door when Vincent put hisfoot forward and prevented its closing. "Massa Charles," the negresscalled out, "bring yo' shot-gun quick; here am tief want to break intothe house."
"I am neither a thief nor a tramp," Vincent said; "and I do not wantanything, except that I should be glad to buy a loaf of bread if youhave one that you could spare. I have lost my way, and I want to askdirections."
"Dat am pretty likely story," the old woman said. "Bring up datshot-gun, quick, Massa Charles."
"What is it, Chloe?" another female voice asked.
"Here am a man pretend he hab lost his way and wants to buy a loaf. Youstand back, Miss Lucy, and let your brudder shoot de villain dead."
"I can assure you I am not a robber, madam," Vincent said through thepartly opened door. "I am alone, and only beg some information, which Idoubt not you can give me."
"Open the door, Chloe," the second voice said inside; "that is not thevoice of a robber."
The old woman reluctantly obeyed the order and opened the door, andVincent saw in the passage a young girl of some sixteen years old. Hetook off his hat.
"I am very sorry to disturb you," he said, "but I am an entire strangerhere, and am most desirous of crossing the river, but can find no boatwith which to do so."
"Why did you not cross by the bridge?" the girl asked. "How did you missthe straight road?"
"Frankly, because there were Northern troops there," Vincent said, "andI wish to avoid them, if possible."
"You are a Confederate?" the girl asked, when the old negressinterrupted her:
"Hush, Miss Lucy! don't you talk about dem tings; der plenty of mischiefdone already. What hab you to do wid one side or de oder?"
The girl paid no attention to her words, but stood awaiting Vincent'sanswer. He did not hesitate. There was something in her face that toldhim that, friend or foe, she was not likely to betray a fugitive, and heanswered:
"I am a Confederate officer, madam. I have made my escape from Elmiraprison, and I am trying to find my way back into our lines."
"Come in, sir," the girl said, holding out her hand. "We areSecessionists, heart and soul. My father and my brother are with ourtroops--that is, if they are both alive. I have little to offer you, forthe Yankee bands have been here several times, have driven off ourcattle, emptied our barns, and even robbed our hen nests, and takeneverything in the house they thought worth carrying away. But whateverthere is, sir, you are heartily welcome to. I had a paper yesterday--itis not often I get one--and I saw there that three of our officers hadescaped from Elmira. Are you one of them?"
"Yes, madam. I am Lieutenant Wingfield."
"Ah! then you are in the cavalry. You have fought under Stuart," thegirl said. "The paper said so. Oh, how I wish we had Stuart andStonewall Jackson on this side! We should soon drive the Yankees out ofTennessee."
"They would try to, anyhow," Vincent said, smiling, "and if it werepossible they would assuredly do it. I was in Ashley's horse with theStonewall division through the first campaign in the Shenandoah Valleyand up to Bull Run, and after that under Stuart. But is not your brotherhere? Your servant called to him."
"There is no one here but ourselves," the girl replied. "That was afiction of Chloe's, and it has succeeded sometimes when we have hadrough visitors. And now, what can I do for you, sir? You said you wantedto buy a loaf of bread, and therefore, I suppose, you are hungry. Chloe,put the bacon and bread on the table, and make some coffee. I am afraidthat is all we can do, sir, but such as it is you are heartily welcometo it."
"I thank you greatly," Vincent replied, "and will, if you will allow me,take half my breakfast out to my boy, who is waiting over there."
"Why did you not bring him in?" the girl asked. "Of course he will bewelcome, too."
"I did not bring him in before because two men in these days are likelyto alarm a lonely household; and I would rather not bring him in now,because, if by any possibility the searchers, who are no doubt after me,should call and ask you whether two men, one a white and the other anegro, had been here, you could answer no."
"But they cannot be troubling much about prisoners," the girl said."Why, in the fighting here and in Missouri they have taken manythousands of prisoners, and you have taken still more of them inVirginia; surely they cannot trouble themselves much about one gettingaway."
"I am not afraid of a search of that kind," Vincent said; "but,unfortunately, on my way down I had a row in the train with a ruffiannamed Mullens, who is, I understand, connected with one of these bandsof brigands, and I feel sure that he will hunt me down, if he can."
The girl turned pale.
"Oh!" she said, "I saw that in the paper too, but it said that it was aminister. And it was you who beat that man and threw his revolver out ofthe window? Oh, then, you are in danger indeed, sir. He is one of theworst ruffians in the State, and is the leader of the party who strippedthis house and threatened to burn it to the ground. Luckily I was not athome, having gone away to spend the night with a neighbor. His band havecommitted murders all over the country, hanging up defenseless people onpretense that they were Secessionists. They will show you no mercy, ifthey catch you."
"No. I should not expect any great mercy, if I fell into their hands,Miss Lucy. I don't know your other name."
"My name is Kingston. I ought to have introduced myself to you at once."
"Now you understand, Miss Kingston, how anxious I am to get across theriver, and that brings me to the question of the information I want youto give me. How far is it from the next bridge on the south, and arethere any Federal troops there?"
"It is about seven miles to the bridge at Williamsport; we are justhalfway between that and the railway bridge at Columbus. Yes, there arecertainly troops there."
"Then I see no way for it but to make a small raft to carry us across,Miss Kingston. I am a good swimmer, but the river is full and ofconsiderable width; still, I think I can get across. But my boy cannotswim a stroke."
"I know where there is a boat hid in the wood near the river," the girlsaid. "It belongs to a neighbor of ours, and when the Yankees seized theboats he had his hauled up and hidden in the woods. He was a Southerner,heart and soul, and thought that he might be able sometim
es to takeuseful information across the river to our people; but a few weeksafterward his house was attacked by one of these bands--it was alwayssaid it was that of Mullens--and he was killed, defending it to thelast. He killed several of the band before he fell, and they were soenraged that, after plundering it, they set it on fire and fastened thedoor, and his wife and two maidservants were burned to death."
"I wish instead of throwing his pistol out of the window, I had blownhis brains out with it," Vincent said; "and I would have done so, if Ihad known what sort of fellow he was. However, as to the boat, can yougive me instructions where to find it, and is it light enough for twomen to carry?"
"Not to carry, perhaps, but to push along. It is a light boat he had forpleasure. He had a large one, but that was carried away with theothers. I cannot give you directions, but I can lead you to the place."
"I should not like you to do that," Vincent said. "We might be caught,and your share in the affair might be suspected."
"Oh there is no fear of that," the girl said; "besides, I am not afraidof danger."
"I don't think it is right, Miss Kingston, for a young lady like you tobe living here alone with an old servant in such times as these. Youought to go into a town until it's all over."
"I have no one to go to," the girl said simply. "My father bought thisplace and moved here from Georgia only six years ago, and all my friendsare in that State. Except our neighbors round here I do not know a soulin Tennessee. Besides, what can I do in a town? We can manage here,because we have a few fowls, and some of our neighbors last springplowed an acre or two of ground and planted corn for us, and I have alittle money left for buying other things; but it would not last us amonth if we went into a town. No, I have nothing to do but to stay hereuntil you drive the Yankees back. I will willingly take you down to theboat to-night. Chloe can come with us and keep me company on the wayback. Of course it would not be safe to cross in the daytime."
"I thank you greatly, Miss Kingston, and shall always remember yourkindness. Now, when I finish my meal, I will go out and join my boy, andwill come to you at eight o'clock; it will be quite dark then."
"Why should you not stay here till then, Mr. Wingfield? It is veryunlikely that anyone will come along."
"It is unlikely, but it is quite possible," Vincent replied; "and were Icaught here by Mullens, the consequence would be very serious to you aswell as to myself. No, I could not think of doing that. I will go out,and come back at eight o'clock. I shall not be far away; but if anyoneshould come and inquire, you can honestly say that you do not know whereI am."
"I have two revolvers here, sir; in fact I have three. I always keep oneloaded, for there is never any saying whether it may not be wanted; andthe other two I picked up last spring. There was a fight about a quarterof a mile from here, and it was after it was over and they had movedaway, for the Confederates won that time and chased them back towardNashville, I went with Chloe with some water and bandages to see if wecould do anything for the wounded. We were at work there till evening,and I think we did some good. As we were coming back I saw something ina low bush, and going there found a Yankee officer and his horse bothlying dead; they had been killed by a shell, I should think. Stoopingover to see if he was quite dead I saw a revolver in his belt andanother in the holster of his saddle, so I took them out and broughtthem home, thinking I might give them to some of our men, for we werethen, as we have always been, very short of arms; but I have never hadan opportunity of giving them away, and I am very glad now that I havenot. Here they are, sir, and two packets of cartridges, for they are ofthe same size as those of the pistol my father gave me when he wentaway. You are heartily welcome to them."
"Thank you extremely," Vincent said as he took the pistols and placedthe packets of ammunition in his pocket. "We cut two heavy sticks thenight we left Nashville so as to be able to make something of a fight;but with these weapons we shall feel a match for any small parties wemay meet. Then at eight o'clock I will come back again."
"I shall be ready," the girl said; "but I wish you would have stopped,there are so many things I want to ask you about, and these Yankeepapers, which are all we see now, are full of lies."
"They exaggerate their successes and to some extent conceal theirdefeats," Vincent said; "but I do not think it is the fault of thenewspapers, whose correspondents do seem to me to try and tell the truthto their readers, but of the official dispatches of the generals. Thenewspapers tone matters down, no doubt, because they consider itnecessary to keep up the public spirit; but at times they speak outpretty strongly, too. I am quite as sorry to leave as you can be that Ishould go, Miss Kingston, but I am quite sure that it is very much thewisest thing for me to do. By the way, if I should not be here byhalf-past eight I shall not come at all, and you will know thatsomething has occurred to alter our plans. I trust there is no chance ofanything doing so, but it is as well to arrange so that you should notsit up expecting me. Should I not come back you will know that I shallbe always grateful to you for your kindness, and that when this war isover, if I am alive, I will come back and thank you personally."
"Good-by till this evening!" the girl said. "I will not even let myselfthink that anything can occur to prevent your return."
"Golly, Massa Vincent, what a time you hab been!" Dan said when Vincentrejoined him. "Dis chile began to tink dat somefing had gone wrong, andwas going in anoder five minutes to knock at the door to ask what deyhad done to you."
"It is all right, Dan. I have had breakfast, and have brought some foryou; here is some bread and bacon and a bottle of coffee."
"Dat good, massa; my teeth go chatter, chatter wid sleeping in thesedamp woods; dat coffee do me good, sah. After dat I shall feel fit foranyting."