to the water, the ice had been lodged and
detained in great quantities, and the narrow channel which swept round
the bend was full of ice, piled one cake over another, thus forming
a temporary barrier to the descending ice, which lodged, and formed a
great, undulating raft, filling up the whole river, and extending almost
to the Kentucky shore.

Eliza stood, for a moment, contemplating this unfavorable aspect of
things, which she saw at once must prevent the usual ferry-boat from
running, and then turned into a small public house on the bank, to make
a few inquiries.

The hostess, who was busy in various fizzing and stewing operations over
the fire, preparatory to the evening meal, stopped, with a fork in her
hand, as Eliza's sweet and plaintive voice arrested her.

"What is it?" she said.

"Isn't there any ferry or boat, that takes people over to B----, now?"
she said.

"No, indeed!" said the woman; "the boats has stopped running."

Eliza's look of dismay and disappointment struck the woman, and she
said, inquiringly,

"May be you're wanting to get over?--anybody sick? Ye seem mighty
anxious?"

"I've got a child that's very dangerous," said Eliza. "I never heard of
it till last night, and I've walked quite a piece today, in hopes to get
to the ferry."

"Well, now, that's onlucky," said the woman, whose motherly sympathies
were much aroused; "I'm re'lly consarned for ye. Solomon!" she called,
from the window, towards a small back building. A man, in leather apron
and very dirty hands, appeared at the door.

"I say, Sol," said the woman, "is that ar man going to tote them bar'ls
over tonight?"

"He said he should try, if 't was any way prudent," said the man.

"There's a man a piece down here, that's going over with some truck this
evening, if he durs' to; he'll be in here to supper tonight, so you'd
better set down and wait. That's a sweet little fellow," added the
woman, offering him a cake.

But the child, wholly exhausted, cried with weariness.

"Poor fellow! he isn't used to walking, and I've hurried him on so,"
said Eliza.

"Well, take him into this room," said the woman, opening into a small
bed-room, where stood a comfortable bed. Eliza laid the weary boy upon
it, and held his hands in hers till he was fast asleep. For her there
was no rest. As a fire in her bones, the thought of the pursuer urged
her on; and she gazed with longing eyes on the sullen, surging waters
that lay between her and l