ide from Columbus to Bellaire (the terminus of the
Central Ohio Railroad); but at Lewis's Mills this day a collision or
some other accident occurred, by which the train was delayed until late
that night: no other harm was done, except to give time for poor Ellen's
chance again to fail her. Joe's regiment crossed the Ohio that night and
went into Virginia.

Bellaire and Benwood, the opposite point on the other side of the river,
are small railroad stations, which one or two iron-mills have rendered
foul with ashes and smoke. The crossing of the river at that time was by
a ferry, rendered purposely tedious by the managers of the Baltimore and
Ohio Road, to force their passengers to the lower junction at
Parkersburg. I mention this to account for the detention which ensued.
When the train stopped at Bellaire, Ellen followed the crowd off the
platform into a tavern consisting of a barn-like eating-room and a few
starved little garret rooms over it. She stopped at the door
uncertainly, while the passengers crowded about the eating-stands at the
far end of the room. A fat, oily landlord came up with a hat driven down
over his brows.

"Cross the river to-night, Ma'am? Slow work! slow work! Not get this
train over till morning. Better take a bite."

Ellen managed to interpose her brother's name and that of the regiment.

"Twenty-Fourth Ohio? Gone over to-day and this evening. Government has
the roads and ferries now, and that keeps passengers back. Troops must
be transported, you know,"--and then stopped suddenly, seeing Ellen's
face.

"Where did you say he had gone?"

"Over," with a jerk of his thumb across the river,--"into Virginia. You
are ill, young woman! I'll call Susan."

Virginia, the country of the man-hunters! A low moon lighted up the
broad river and the hills beyond; they were mountains to Ellen,
threatening and fierce. She looked at them steadily.

"All the stories I had heard of that country came up quick to me," she
said, afterwards. "I thought it was death for me or Joe to venture
there. Then he was gone! But I had a great courage, somehow, there at
Bellaire. It came to me sudden. I said to the man it did not matter. I
would have gone with Joe, and I could follow him. He spoke to me a
minute or two, and then he went for 'Susan,' who was his wife. She was a
sharp-faced woman, and she scolded her servants all the time; but she
was very kind to me. When I told her about Joe, she brought me some tea,
and