be observed just now. Now, listen to my instructions. Do
you know the plantation of Mr. Furniss, on the Pamunky, near Coal
Harbor?"

"No, sir; but me can find out."

"No, you can't; because you can't see anyone or ask questions. Very
well, then, you must be here again to-morrow night at the same hour. Dan
will meet you here, and act as your guide. He will presently bring you
provisions for to-morrow. Be sure you be careful, Tony, and get back to
your hiding place as soon as you can, and lie very quiet to-morrow until
it is time to start. It would be terrible if you were to be caught now,
just as we have arranged for you to get away."

On the following afternoon Vincent told his mother that he was going
over that evening to his friend Furniss, as an early start was to be
made next morning; they intended to go down the river as far as
Yorktown, if not further; that he certainly should not be back for two
days, and probably might be even longer.

"This new boating freak of yours, Vincent, seems to occupy all your
thoughts. I wonder how long it will last."

"I don't suppose it will last much longer, mother," Vincent said, with a
laugh. "Anyhow, it will make a jolly change for a week. One has got so
sick of hearing nothing talked about but secession, that a week without
hearing the word mentioned will do one lots of good, and I am sure I
felt that if one had much more of it, one would be almost driven to take
up the Northern side, just for the sake of a change."

"We should all disown you, Vin," Annie said, laughing; "we should have
nothing to say to you, and you would be cut by all your friends."

"Well, you see, a week's sailing and fishing will save me from all that,
Annie; and I shall be able to begin again with a fresh stock of
patience."

"I believe you are only half in earnest in the cause, Vincent," his
mother said gravely.

"I am not, indeed, mother. I quite agree with what you and everyone say
as to the rights of the State of Virginia, and if the North should
really try to force us and the other Southern States to remain with
them, I shall be just as ready to do everything I can as anyone else;
but I can't see the good of always talking about it, and I think it's
very wrong to ill-treat and abuse those who think the other way. In
England in the Civil War the people of the towns almost all thought one
way, and almost all those of the counties the other, and even now
opinions differ almost as widely as to