ent as he
returned to the girl who stood motionless in the snow awaiting him. "It
is nothing," he said. "We must go forward now, watch our chance and slip
through the earthworks."

She did not speak, but went on with him, showing an infinite trust that
appealed to every fiber of his being. The chill of the wintry night had
been driven away by vigourous exercise, but its tonic effect remained
with both, and now their courage began to rise as they approached the
first barrier. It seemed to them that they could not fail on such a
night.

"There is an interval yonder between two of the earthworks," said
Prescott. "I'm sure we can pass them."

Silently they approached the opening. The moon glimmered but faintly
across the white snow, and no sign of life came from the earthworks. But
as they drew near a sentinel, gun on shoulder, appeared walking back and
forth, and beyond where his post ended was another soldier, likewise
walking back and forth, gun on shoulder.

"It is evident that our way doesn't lie there," said Prescott, turning
back quickly lest the sentinel should see them and demand an
explanation.

"What shall we do?" she asked, seeming now to trust to him implicitly.

"Why, try another place," he replied lightly. "If at first you don't
succeed, try, try again."

They tried again and failed as before. The sentinels of the Confederacy
everywhere were watchful, despite the wintry night and the little
apparent need of precaution. Yet the two were drawn closer and closer
together by the community of hope and despair, and when at last they
drifted back toward the tavern and the wagons Prescott felt as if he,
too, were seeking to escape from Richmond to join the Army of the North.
He even found it in his heart to condemn the vigilance of his own.

"Captain Prescott," said the girl, as they stood watching the light in
the tavern window, "I insist that you leave me here. I wish to make an
attempt alone. Why should you risk yourself?"

"Even if you passed the fortifications," he replied, "you would perish
in the frozen hills beyond. Do you think I have come so far to turn back
now?"

Staring at the wagons and the stamping horses, he noticed one of the
farmers come out of the tavern. His appearance gave Prescott a happy
inspiration.

"Stay here a moment or two, Miss Catherwood," he said. "I want to talk
to that man."

She obeyed without a word of protest, and he approached the farmer, who
lurched toward one of