massa; dis nigger won't say one word 'bout you, nor de tings you took
from de house--not one word, massa. Spare dis chile, and luff him go
home."

But Tom compelled him to walk before him till they came to the river. The
place was called Seaburn's Ford.

"Now, Blackee, if anybody wants me, tell them I've gone to Winchester,"
said Tom, when he had ordered his escort to halt.

"No, massa, I won't say one word," replied the servant.

"If you do, I'll shoot you the very next time I see you--depend upon that.
You can go now."

The negro was not slow to avail himself of this privilege, and ran off,
evidently expecting a bullet from the revolver would overtake him before
he had gone far, for he glanced fearfully over his shoulder, begging his
captor not to shoot him.

Tom stood upon the bank of the Shenandoah. The negro had told him that he
was about thirty miles from Harper's Ferry, which he knew was in
possession of General Patterson's forces. Attached to a tree on the shore
was a small flat-bottomed boat, which attracted the attention of the
soldier boy. Tom was accustomed to boats, and the sight of this one
suggested a change of programme, for it would be much easier to float down
the stream, than to walk the thirty miles. This was a point which needed
no argument; and unfastening the painter of the boat, he jumped in, and
pushed off. Seating himself in the stern, with the paddle in his hand, he
kept her head with the current, and swept down the rapid stream like a
dreamy youth just starting upon the voyage of life.

Like the pilgrim on the sea of time, Tom was not familiar with the
navigation of the Shenandoah, and he had neither chart nor compass to
assist him. The current was very swift, and once in a while the bateau
bumped upon a concealed rock, or bar of sand. Fortunately no serious
accident occurred to him, though he found that the labor of managing the
boat was scarcely less than that of walking.

There was one consolation about it; he was in no danger of missing the
road, and he was not bothered by Confederate soldiers or inquisitive
civilians. His light bark rushed on its way down the stream, without
attracting the notice of any of the inhabitants, if any were abroad at
that unseemly hour of the night. The difficulties of the navigation were
overcome with more or less labor, and when the day dawned, Tom made up his
mind that he had done a good night's work; and choosing a secluded nook by
the side of the