of pursuit. The night was mysteriously still, unbroken, even the air
motionless. Obsessed now by the one controlling impulse to get away
safely, I drove the horse into the water, and as he reached swimming
depth, grasped a stirrup leather, and compelled him to strike out for
the opposite shore. It was not a hard struggle, nor were we long at it,
although the current was swift enough to bear us down a hundred feet, or
more, before we struck bottom, wading out at the mouth of a small creek,
the low banks offering some slight concealment. I looked back through
the darkness, across the dim water, and up the shrouded hill on the
opposite side. Lights were winking here and there like fire-flies. I
stared at them, light-hearted, confident I had every advantage; then I
patted the horse, and adjusted the stirrups.

"She waited until we were safe across, old fellow," I said, too pleased
to remain still. "Now we'll ride for it."

He turned his head, and rubbed his nose along my arm. The next moment I
was in the saddle, spurring him up the bank.



CHAPTER XV

I MEET AN EX-SLAVE

In this narrative of adventure it would but waste the reader's time to
indulge in any extended description of military movements. The interest
of my story centres around individuals rather than the great events of
history, and I will touch these but briefly, so as to make the
surrounding conditions sufficiently clear. It was noon the following day