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whan de capin and Ise brung some o' dem ar cedar branches an' spread 'em fur yer." "Thank you, my friend! I have no doubt I shall be quite comfortable," returned the pedler, with a smile that, dusky as was the light, the negro thought was the pleasantest he ever saw. I wish I were not too tired to help you." "We need little help for so trifling a task," said Carleton, taking a strong jackknife from his pocket, and stepping out, applied himself to the task of removing the rich heavy branches of cypress and fir that grew in beautiful luxuriance as far as they could see. Josh gathered them up as fast as they fell, and they had soon a sufficient quantity to make comfortable beds for twice their number. They were soon spread out in the most sheltered nook of the little cavern, and quite protected from the night-wind, which now swept cold and chilly up the ravine, and from the sight of any one outside.

"Oh, this is delightful!" exclaimed the pedler, throwing himself down upon the bed; "and how sweet and fragrant it smells! Now if we only could have a fire, how pleasant it would be here!"

"And we will have one," said Carleton, taking a little pocket-pistol from his bosom. "The rascally guerrillas robbed me of everything but this and a pinch of powder in my shirt-pocket; but they did not find these, though they did my percussion-caps. But here are plenty of flints lying about under our feet, by the help of which I can contrive to produce a fire, I'm sure. Hurry up, Josh, and find some dry sticks, and we'll soon have a blaze that will astonish us! 99

The negro was instantly busy gathering dry, dead sticks, and soon came in with a large armful which he threw down, then, putting his hand in his pocket,

"See har, sar, Ise got a piece o' punk as I kep to help light my pipe, sar; " and he laid it down before Carleton to catch the sparks. But the efforts of Carleton to adjust a flint to his pistol, which was intended for a percussion cap, were not crowned with success, and after repeated trials, he threw down the pistol impatiently.

We

"I can't do it! I am sorry! shall have to do without a fire, I fear; and you are so cold too!"

"Oh, you are not half a Yankee," said the pedler with a little laugh. 'Give me your knife, and I will show you how they used to make a fire in Yankee land before I was born or friction matches were invented."

Picking up a sharp piece of flint, he struck it quickly and smartly against the back of the knife-blade, eliciting sparks in abundance, some of which soon fell on the dry punk running like lightning through it.

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Gorra, massa, wese have fire now!" said the negro, dropping on his knees and blowing the little fire with an energy which soon secured it from the danger of being extinguished. Slender twigs as dry as powder were now laid on, which were soon in a blaze; larger sticks were then added, until, in less than five minutes, a glowing, crackling fire was roaring up into the air, sending its warmth through every nook of the little cavern, and setting the blood circulating in the chilled veins of the weary party. This is cosy ! said the pedler, rubbing his hands and spreading them to the warmth. "We shall get through the night famously; but what about the remains of our rations in the haversacks? Let us see them, Josh!"

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But Josh apparently did not hear. He was intently engaged, mouth and eyes wide open, in gazing into the face of the pedler, on which the bright fire was already bringing a glow of health. What yer

"Lors bress us, massa! been gone and done to yerself to look in dat ar way?"

The attention of Carleton was attracted, and in equal surprise he exclaimed, dropping the haversack he held from his hands, "Jean Delong, by all that is sacred!"

A crimson flush rushed over the face of the pedler. He started, and putting his hand to his head, the whole was instantly understood: hat, wig, whiskers had disappeared, fallen off upon the bed upon which he had been resting; and he sat there, his dark hair curling around

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"And so you are a French boy, and don't speak English?" said Carleton, biting his lips with mortification and vexation at the memory of how he had been deceived.

"Oui, monsieur," said Jean, laughing and coloring still more deeply. "Je ne parle que pas de l'Anglais !"

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Josh," said Carleton, turning to the negro, "will you bring a little more wood? The fire will soon get low."

As soon as the still astonished darkey had left the cavern,

"Florence!" said Carleton, sternly, can you give me a clew to the meaning of this most disgraceful masquerade?"

The lady, for there is no need to tell my readers that Carleton had read the riddle aright, sprung to her feet at his almost insulting tone and manner, a blaze of shame and indignation firing her face,

ered as it is with darkness. Yet I do not suspect you, Florence, of anything that you believe wrong. I believe you good and virtuous and true, in spite of the efforts you have been making to convince me to the contrary. Your repeated entrance in disguise into our camp, your roving about in darkness and in the storm, your exposure to be captured and insulted by marauding soldiers and murderous guerrillas, Florence, Florence, will you not do me the justice to explain these things? Why will you thus try my faith? You do not speak, and what more can I say? For your children's sake, whom I know you love, but whom you are surely neglecting, will you not

answer me?"

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"Cousin Guy!" she exclaimed, "if you can point to any one thing in my past life -if you can quote one single word that I ever uttered that can be fairly made to warrant the suspicion I read in your face at this moment, I will" forgive you!"

"Is not your present masquerade enough?"

"No! a thousand times no! Unless you know its meaning, you have no right to judge it thus! Judge not, that ye be not judged,' was the command of the Saviour, and surely, your widowed and orphaned cousin has a right to say the same to you! Cruel!"

"Florence! do you desire to drive me

crazy? You know right well that I would give my right hand for your sake, at any time; but you know, too, how strange and unaccountable, even suspicious, your conduct must look to me, cov

"Trust me, Guy!" she repeated, with so frank, so open, so loyal a face that, in spite of the mystery, Carleton felt that nothing foul could dwell in such a breast.'

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"I trust you, Florence, fully, unreservedly. And now, - for I see the negro coming, tell me quickly, are you still to be Jean Delong, or the pedler; or," he added, ruefully," who are you to be?"

"Oh, I will be Jean, I think," said Florence, laughing. "I shall be less likely to attract attention."

"Who would believe that you could look so like an uncouth, drawling pedler?" exclaimed Carleton. "I like you much better now!"

The negro entered with an armful of dry sticks, and without seeming to notice

any further the change in Florence, applied himself to replenish the fire.

The evening passed pleasantly. A very tolerable supper was furnished by the remains of the food brought from the guerrilla's cave, a little wine was drank, and, thoroughly warmed and cheerful, the little party discussed, with no unhoping spirit, the chances for their escaping the guerrillas and other rebel soldiers, as well as of obtaining food, now that their own was nearly exhausted.

"We may have to go hungry," said Jean, "unless we should chance to fall in with some of the negro refugees who are said to be hidden in all the mountains of the South."

"We'll fine plenty of dem ar, sar, when we gets out dis yere," interposed Josh," and dey'll gib us plenty to eat, ef dey hab anyting for deysels."

"Do you know any of them, Josh ?" inquired Carleton.

"No, sar; but de Lord'll fine 'em for us, yer know. He's tuk car on us afore, sar."

"I trust he will, Josh; at any rate, I will not doubt it. I will try to have as much faith as you."

After still further conversation, the little party betook themselves to the rest they so much needed, and before five minutes, Jean and the negro were in a sound sleep; but Carleton mused long on the mysterious movements of his cousin, then, determining to "trust her," he, too, soon fell into a profound slumber.

wonderful beauty. They stood to admire its varied charms, but did not descend into it. Keeping along the side of the mountain, at the same elevation as the bottom of the ravine they had left, they soon came upon signs of human life. A few barnyard fowls were strutting sedately about, and a numerous litter of little pigs ran squealing before them into a clump of bushes.

"This looks promising," said Carleton, laughing. "Where you see pigs, you are sure of meeting bipeds also. There is evidently a connection between them."

They hurried forward, and turning an angle of the rocks, came suddenly upon a smooth bit of table-land of about two acres' area, verdant with sweet-potato vines and other plants, and flanked on the side nearest the mountain by two huts. They were small and of most primitive character, being constructed of the branches of tall, slender trees, bent together and united at the top, and thatched with broad, flat sheets of hemlock bark. A door of the same material gave entrance to the huts, and secured them from invasion from the pigs or other less harmless animals, while a window on each side of the door, without glass, admitted light and air in the daytime, but was at this hour closed also by a rude shutter of hemlock bark.

The inhabitants of the little huts were not yet stirring; but a little snarling terrier giving the alarm, a negress of portly size and good-natured aspect soon made her appearance at the door. Josh went forward, and without concealment, explained, as far as necessary, the circumstances of the party.

"Uncle Abe's sojers, 'scaped fom de g'rillas!" exclaimed the woman, in a hearty, joyful tone. "Bress yere hearts,

Early morning found them wide awake, and fresh and hopeful and ready for a start. They pushed on vigorously by a rude path close at the foot of the mountain, whose little-trodden appearance indicated no very frequent visits of the guerrillas to the cavern; and by the time the sun gilded the tops of the trees grow-massas, come in! come right in! Grad ing in the ravine, they had reached its to see yer, massas! Come right in, and outlet. It was concealed by an immense yer shell soon hab some breakfast, ef der growth of pines and hemlocks, under is anyting to be had in dese yere diggin's! which the torrent, whose gurgling music Uncle Abe's sojers don't go hungry whar they had heard all the morning, now der's darkies to gub 'em sumbin to eat, I much widened, rushed swiftly forward and can tell yer!" plunged over a precipice hundreds of feet down into a valley, which, as they emerged from the ravine, opened upon them in

A swarm of little negroes surrounded the strangers as they came near the door, a broad grin on each little face revealing

rows of polished ivory, white and beautiful, and all striving to touch the clothes of the young officer and his handsome companion.

Har, yer'll clar out, ef yer don't want a flea in yer ears," said the mother, goodnaturedly, driving them all out to make room for her visitors.

"De poor little niggers!" said she, by way of apology. "Dey's so tickled to see one uv Uncle Abe's sojers, dey could eat him up, 'most."

"Why, what do they know of Uncle Abe's soldiers?" inquired Carleton, smiling.

"Lors bress yer, sar! wese runaway slabes, an' we knows all about 'em, sar, an' grad enough we is to see one uv em!"

She ushered them into the little hut, which, though cramped in its dimensions, was clean and not uncomfortable. In one corner, near one of the little windows, whose shutters were now removed, sat a gray old negress, her white wool covered with a bright bandanna handkerchief, and her wrinkled hands folded upon a dilapidated old Bible which lay in her lap before her. She looked peeringly up into Carleton's face, as he stood near her.

"What are all dis yere? Are yer some ob Uncle Abe's sojers?" said she, in a tremulous voice. "I can't see very well."

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Yes," said Carleton; "and we've just escaped from the guerrillas, who took us prisoners yesterday."

"Gor A'mighty bress yer, sar, if yer his sojers! Har, Toxie, kill one o' dem are little pigs and cook it! Der's not ting too good for yer, sar! De niggers knows what yer fightin' for, sar! We isn't fools, do dey tinks we is? We knows what de Yankees is fightin' fur." "And what are we fighting for, my good woman?"

"Yer fightin' to gub de slabes free; an' de Lord'll bress yer an' gub yer de wict'ry."

"Do you think so?"

"Doesn't I know it? De Lord'll nebber stop dis yere war, till de las' slabe is gub free! Yer may b'lieve what dis yere poor ole darkey say," and she lifted up

both her wrinkled hands,-" de Lord'll nebber stop dis yere war till dar isn't a single cullered mudder to cry an' groan ober her little chillens sole away from her ter go inter de cotton fiels to be whipped an' 'bused by de cussed slabe-driber, an' nobody to car' whedder dey lib or die."

"I believe so, too, my friend," said Carleton; "but do the negroes generally feel so?"

"Do dey? Massa, der isn't a cullered pusson in de 'hole Souf dat be ole enuff to say he prayers dat don't know dat de Lord is workin' fur de slabe, and dat he mean to lead 'em out uv de lan' uv Egypt jis' as he did de people of Izzal whan Pharo follered arter an' was drownded in de Red Sea! Bress yer, sar, dey all foun' out what de white folks fightin' for 'fore dey knew it deysels!"

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Why, how was that, aunty?"

Why, don't yer know, massa? De Lord held de light for dem, and dey couldn't help seein'."

The daughter had meanwhile been making active preparations for a breakfast. The rude pine table was set; chickens and eggs were smoking on the fire; a huge hoe-cake was browning before the coals, and an odorous pot of tea which never grew in the Celestial Empire was steeping on the corner of the hearth. She soon hurried them on to the table.

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"Come, mudder," said she, bustling about to set rude seats around the table; no use talking now, whan de Lord's sojers 'scapin' from captivity and wants der breakfas'. Come, massa, an' eat yer fill o' sich as de poor niggers has, and much good may't do yer!"

The invitation needed not to be repeated, and Carleton and Jean were soon enjoying a nicely-cooked and most delicious meal, Josh preferring to wait and breakfast with the family.

"But whar's de little pig, Toxie, I tell'd yer to cook?" inquired the old grandmother, anxiously.

"Lors, mudder, d'ye s'pose Ise gwine to hab it eat up fur breakfas'? Jack's got it mose ready, and Ise gwine to ros it fur dem to tuk wid 'em. Maybe dey wont fine any more darkies to feed 'em 'fore dey get to de Lord's camp."

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"An' ef it war a hunderd," interrupted the old grandmother, "we'd all know whar it war. Didn't I tell yer de Lord war holdin' de light for us?"

The breakfast was soon over, and Captain Carleton and Jean went out to enjoy the wide and beautiful prospect, while Josh and the family, in their turn, partook of the good fare; and the little pig, brought to an untimely end, roasted and sputtered before the glowing fire, swinging slowly round on the string which held it suspended, its rich gravy dropping into the dish placed under to receive it, and its savory odors diffusing themselves for some distance outside the hut.

The few minutes devoted by the exslaves to their breakfast were minutes, also, of thoughtful deliberation. A new comer had appeared on the stage, just as they sat down to the table, -a stalwart young negro, the younger son of the grandmother, and brother of the bustling mother of the children. Carleton and Jean could see, as they passed back and forth by the open door, that some grave matter occupied their attention; but they rose from the table and busied themselves in bestowing the savory viands they had prepared for their fugitive visitors, without making known the subject of conversation to them.

yer clothes, an' dar's yer hat, an' yer know what dat ar means." The tears stood in her dim eyes, but her voice was brave and unfaltering. "Yer know what it means. Go forth wid de Lord's sojers, an' wan de 'hole cullered people in all de lan' is gub free, den come back to yer ole mudder, an' she'll lif' up her voice an' cry fur de joy dat de chile ob her buzom war counted wordy to work fur de salvation ob her people!"

The negress laid her hand on the head of the young man, who looked with a kind of wonder and gladness into her face that was quite touching to behold.

"Good-by, now, Jack! Gor A'mighty bress yer! Good-by, sojers o' de Lord!" she continued, turning to Carleton and Jean. "De Lord gub yer de wict'ry whenebber yer fight his battles!"

"Good-by!" they replied, with emotion in their voices; and followed by the two young negroes, they silently left the little huts behind them, and were again skirting the mountain-side, on their way toward the Federal camp in the rear of Vicksburg.

The

It is unnecessary to detail the journey of the fugitives. They were before night across the mountains, Jack having proved a skilful and intelligent guide. This part of their progress was safe, and though fatiguing, very pleasant. day was fine and cool, and the atmosphere so transparent as to render objects a day's journey distant distinctly visible. The scenery through which they passed was They were at length ready to depart, beautiful and richly varied. Grand mountheir haversacks filled with various little tains loomed one above the other, clothed articles, eggs, roasted sweet-potatoes, in the superb verdure of the latter May, and hoe-cake, the roasted pig stowed in a while here and there, vast tracts of the rude basket made by the negroes of birch-rose-laurel in full blossom blazed in the bark; and Carleton and Jean, with many noonday sun with a brilliancy truly gorexpressions of their gratitude at the kind-geous. ness they had received, turned to leave the hut.

"Stop minute, mars," said the old woinan, rising from her seat, and holding up her withered hand to enforce her injunction. "De Lord's sojers shall nebber go out 'lone fom dis house. Jack!" she continued, turning to her son and placing a little bundle tied up in a checked cotton handkerchief in his hand, “har's

Little cabins of the rudest structure, hidden in the most secluded nooks of the mountain, were not unfrequently met, their occupants almost invariably being slaves who had escaped from their masters, and who, in every instance, evinced an acquaintance with the events and objects of the war that to Carleton and his white companion seemed little short of miraculous.

"Yer see, sar," said one of these,

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