Louis. His master beat him severely, but he would let neither threats
nor torture wring the secret from his lips.

Louis saw the faithfulness of that man, and he thought with shame of his
former position to the race from whom such unswerving devotion could
spring. The hunt proving ineffectual, Louis after the search and
excitement had subsided resumed his journey Northward, meeting with
first one act of kindness and then another.

One day he had a narrow escape from the bloodhounds. He had trusted his
secret to a colored man who, faithful like the rest, was directing him
on his way when deep ominous sounds fell on their ears. The colored man
knew that sound too well; he knew something of the nature of
bloodhounds, and how to throw them off the track.

So hastily opening his pen-knife he cut his own feet so that the blood
from them might deepen the scent on one track, and throw them off from
Louis's path.

It was a brave deed, and nobly done, and Louis began to feel that he had
never known them, and then how vividly came into his mind the words of
Dr. Charming: "After all we may be trampling on one of the best branches
of the human race." Here were men and women too who had been trampled on
for ages ready to break to him their bread, aye share with him their
scanty store.

One had taken the shoes from his feet and almost forced him to take
them. What was it impelled these people? What was the Union to them,
and who were Lincoln's soldiers that they should be so ready to
gravitate to the Union army and bring the most reliable information to