The Portland daily press. [volume] (Portland, Me.) 1862-1921, 1892-08-29
CHAPTER II.
A RACE FOR. FREEDOM.

THAT'S soldier ana gentleman.
Cousin Caro-" Evan said, as they spun
along. Good taste, too; hasn't he?
Pom my word! he seemed hard hit; and
in the dark, too!' And the light
hearted fellow laughed, as though war
were not and enemies were read Of only
in the fairy tales.
"Don't be goose, Evan!" Miss Clay
retorted. half amused in spite Of her
anxiety. 'sAnd don't make such a noise
What boy you are! Do you know,
she added, seriously, ''I am really wor
ried about this news? If Gen. Jeb hae
only been in camp! Oh, Evan, should
miss that boat tonight, Fairfax may die
before can get over and back! And
poor mother! You know how worn and
nervous she is with nursing and anxiety
Should she chance to hear of Yankees
on the road, her fears would conjure ur
capture, prison-worse- metz
sWhy, coz, what's the use of borrow.
ing trouble? See that fork away te
the left? That is but three miles te
the Ferry and the horses are as fresh
as"
''What is that glow over by the river
to the right? No, there!" Miss Clay
broke in, pointing impatiently.
A faint, pinkish haze showed dimly
through the whirling snowfakes-
steamy glow, rather than light. The
scout gazed steadily in the direction
awhile, then answered, placidly:
Northern lights, maybe; but I'm nc
dab at astronomy Seems pretty low
though. Perhaps there's brush aire in
that bottom
SIT is fire." the girl replied. "see!
it expands and falls. Evan, can it be a
campfre?"
.sNot nauchi" he answered, lightly.
.'sWe're way beyond our lines; and
surely no Yanks could camp SO near
them without our scouts knowledge.
By Jove, Cousin Caro-, really believe
the legion man has made you nervous!'
tsCaution and nervousness are not
akin, as an older soldier would know 81
Miss Clay retorted, rather cold1y. 81
have too much at stake to risk any dan
ger can avoid. Oh, Evan, I must get
to Baltimore tomorrow"
s.And SO you shall, my dear, brave
,yir1l" the boy answered, confidently.
s'See that open hilltop just beyondf
From, that we strike the last fork of this
trai-good road and short mile down
hill to the Ferry 1t can't be much
past midnight; and old Pete has orders
to wait till the very Last minute he
dares, before dawn. Brace up, COIL
You've been over this same trail three
times 4.'.. .-i-
!. ssAnd never felt, a shadow OF doubt
BEFORE" she interrupted, adding, with
a sigh that would come: cit Is because I
have SO much more at stake than ever
before. But it is nearly aver, thank
God!'
The steaming horses breasted tie hill
bravely and reached the open crest. An
easy slope led away into a broad, white
road, now well carpeted with winters
wool. Just at It's foot narrow belt Of
trees stretched away to the left, leaving
the black river plainly visible from the
bold bluffs to the right, and through
those trees cut a narrow road, dark and
dismal through the broader CLEAN of
the snow haze, now scarce less light
than day.
There, Ellis forlr--1ust one mile to
the landing!" cried the scout, as they
raced at speed down the sandy slope
and nearly up to the biseoting trail,
the hoofbeats ringing no longer, but
thudding dull on the dampened sand.
Suddenly with one impulse both rid
ers wrenched their horses mouths so
feruely as to bring them almost to their
launches. Then both sat like statues,
their necks strained forward, ears bent
eagerly towards the woods road, just
ahead. In the dead stiffness. the deep
breathing of the steaming horses was
the only sound, save, to them, the quick
beating of their own hearts.
So, for seconds that seemed ages.
Then the scout whispered low, as
though In answer to a question:
'sYes; hoofs! 'S-shl-clank OF sabers!
Quick! into the treesl Quickl Go
SOFTLY"
Both horses were turned simultane-
ously into the screen Of trees, well back
from the CLEAN of the open road; and
Evan Fauntleroy, placing himself be-
tween the girl and the approaching
sounds, leaned from his saddle, straight
ened her bride, felt the roans bit, and
gently stroked his great neck. Then he
rose in his stirrups. stretching the cold
cramp ont of his legs, braced himself
afresh In the saddle, and tested the
chamber Of the big revolver drawn from
bis holster.
The tramp Of boots was now plainly
heard, cut by the clank Of sabers-per-
haps five or -six-perhaps score.
sCawairy!" the scout whispered TO the
girl Probably our scouts; posi-
bly,"
He hesitated only a second: but she
calmly finished for him:
"Averill's. II SO, which wayr"
s'H they're Yanks, they are feeling
for our pickets," Evan whispered back.
They'll go east, over the road we came.
We can cut through the woods road and
dodge them in the bottom"