ts running hither and thither quite bewildered
her, and she had to watch herself very closely lest she should betray
herself. The waiters looked at her rather suspiciously; but she behaved
with all propriety, called for her room and supper, paid for what she
had, and in the morning was ready to take her seat in the northern
stage, and no one ventured to molest or question her. How her heart
leaped when she found herself safely on her way to Philadelphia. One
day more, and she would be in a free city. What she should do when she
arrived there, how she was to support herself in future, did not trouble
her. That she might stand on free soil, and lift up her eyes to the
stars that shone on her liberated body was all she thought of; and
to-night this was to be. With every step of the plodding horses, she
grew bolder and more assured, and her faith and hope and joyousness
rose. But, alas! there was a lion in the way of which she had not
dreamed.

"Your pass!" shouted a grim-looking man, as she stepped, bag in hand,
with gentle dignity on the boat that was to take her across the stream
which divided slave territory from our free States. "Where's your pass?
Don't stand there staring at me," said the official, as the frightened
girl looked up as if for an explanation.

A pass! She had never once thought of that! No one had mentioned her
need of it. What was she to do? She looked confounded and terrified.

"No pass?" inquired the man, sternly. "'Tis easy enough to see what
YOU are, then. A runaway!" said he, turning to a man at his right hand,
"make her fast."

Frightened and trembling, Tidy tried to run, but it was of no use; a
strong hand seized her slender arm, and held her securely. Then her
sight seemed to fail her, she grew dizzy, and fell fainting on the deck.
A crowd gathered about her. They remarked her light skin and delicate
features, her ladylike form and neat dress. Could she be a slave? they
asked. Would such a child as she appeared to be attempt to gain her
liberty? They dashed water on her head, and, as her consciousness
returned, she saw the faces of those two pleasant Scotch gentlemen,
who had rode with her the day before all the way from Virginia, looking
kindly and pitifully upon her.

"If you had only told us," they said, "we could have helped you."

But there was no friend or helper in that terrible hour, and poor Tidy,
weeping and almost heart-broken, was carried back to Baltimore, and
thrown into th