ace, and the darkness was
impenetrable; but Frank relied implicitly on his guide, who seemed
to understand what he was about, and kept as close behind him as
possible.

For an hour they traveled without speaking; at length Pomp stopped on
the bank of a narrow but deep stream.

"Can you swim, young massa?" he inquired, turning to Frank.

"Yes, like a duck," was the reply.

"I's mighty glad to h'ar it," said Pomp, "'cause den you're safe. But
I's been mighty oneasy 'bout it, 'cause, if you can't swim, you're
kotched, shore. Now," he continued, "I must leave you here, 'cause I
don't want to let any one know dat I's been away from de plantation.
You must cross dis creek, and foller dat road," pointing to a narrow,
well-beaten bridle-path on the opposite bank, "an' dat will lead you
straight to de Red Ribber. You must keep a good watch, now, 'cause
you'll h'ar something 'fore long dat'll make you wish you had nebber
been born. I's heered it often, an' I knows what it is. Good-by; an'
de Lor' bress an' protect you;" and, before Frank could speak, Pomp
had disappeared.

Alone! The young hero had never before comprehended the full meaning
of that single word, as he did now. Alone, in an almost unbroken
forest, which was filled with enemies, who were thirsting for his
blood; with no one to whom he could go for advice or assistance. Is it
to be wondered that he felt lonely and discouraged?

He looked back to the scenes through which he had passed: the fight;
his capture; the long, weary march, under a burning sun; his treatment
in the prison, the escape, and the pursuit; the hand-to-hand struggle
in the woods; all came up vividly before him, and he wondered how he
had escaped unhurt; and, then, what had the future in store for him?
The warning of the faithful Pomp was still ringing in his ears, and
a dread of impending evil, which he could not shake off, continually
pressed upon him. For the first time since his escape, Frank was
completely unnerved. Seating himself on the ground, he covered his
face with his hands, and cried like a child.

But this burst of weakness did not continue long, for he did not
forget that he was still in danger. Hastily dashing the tears from his
eyes, he rose to his feet, and prepared to cross the stream. Holding
his rifle and ammunition above his head with one hand, he swam with
the other, reached the opposite bank in safety, and followed the path
into the swamp. A mile further on, he came t