glad to see yer
eat. I wants to do all I can for you Yankee sogers."

"Oh, I've had a great plenty, aunty," answered Frank, as he rose from
the table. "Now, I must bid you good-by," he continued, as he pulled
his rifle out from its hiding-place. "I shall never be able to repay
you; but"--

"Lor' A'mighty, chile!" interrupted the old woman, "whar's you gwine?
You mustn't say one word 'bout gwine out o' dis house _dis_ night.
I's got a bed all fixed for you, an' Pomp will take you up early in de
mornin', an' show you de way fru de swamp."

"Put away dat gun, young massa," chimed in Pomp; "dere's no danger."

Frank could not resist this appeal, for the bed, which the old woman
had made for him in one corner of the cabin, rough as it was, was a
pleasant sight to his eyes. So, after hiding his rifle under one of
the quilts, where he could get his hand upon it at a moment's warning,
he threw himself upon the bed without removing his clothes, and was
fast asleep in a moment. It seemed to him that he had hardly closed
his eyes, when a hand was laid on his shoulder, and Pomp's voice
whispered in his ear:

"Wake up, young massa; 'most daylight."

"You sleep mighty sound, chile," said the old woman, as Frank rose
from the bed. "I's sorry to be 'bilged to 'sturb you, but you must
be gwine now. Here's a little bite for you to eat." As she spoke,
she handed Frank a haversack, such as he had often seen used by the
soldiers of the rebel army, filled with corn-bread and cold ham. Frank
slung it over his shoulder, and, after pulling his rifle out from
under the bed, said:

"Aunty, I thank you for your kindness to"--

"Lor' A'mighty, chile!" interrupted the woman, "don't say one word
'bout dat, I tol' you. I's sorry we can't do more for you; but you
must go away now. May de good Lor' bress you."

The tears rolled down the old woman's cheeks as she said this,
and Frank silently shook her hand, and followed Pomp out into the
darkness.

CHAPTER XIV.

Chased by Blood-Hounds.

The moon had gone down, the stars were hidden by thick, heavy clouds,
and it was so dark that it was impossible to distinguish the nearest
objects. Every thing was as silent as death; but this did not affect
the vigilance of Pomp, who led the way with noiseless steps, pausing,
now and then, to listen. They met with no difficulty, however, and,
in a few moments, the plantation was left behind, and they entered
the swamp. It was a chilly, gloomy pl