ll our trials. I was so agitated that when Wells
asked me to write a requisition for provisions for our journey, I
could not do it, and had to transfer the task to more steady hands. It
was six in the morning when we received the news, and we were to start
for "home--_via_ Richmond"--at seven in the evening. We spent the
intervening time in arranging what clothes we had, and preparing for
the journey. And as the time for departure drew near, we again lit the
gas, and built a fire, the ruddy blaze of which was itself an emblem
of cheerfulness, to take a farewell view of the room in which we had
spent so many not altogether unhappy hours. Often afterward did we
think of that bright hour of expectation, during the dreary lapse of
succeeding months, which we were still doomed to pass in the South.

[10] It was a malicious falsehood. All were safe.

We had obtained quite a number of pieces of carpet, which served as
blankets, but were forbidden to take these with us, being told that we
would be run directly through, and would soon be where blankets were
plenty. We however managed to secrete two very small pieces, which
were afterwards of great advantage to us. They did not tie us now for
the first time in all our travels. This was truly remarkable, and
afforded strong confirmation to our hopes.

All was now in readiness for our departure, and we took a long, and, I
trust, a last look at Atlanta--at least while it remains in rebel
possession. The guards fell in on each side of us, and we wended our
silent way along the dark streets. Wells, even drunker than usual,
accompanied us to the cars, where he hiccoughed an affectionate
farewell. White, the sergeant who was with me when our spy escaped,
commanded our escort. He was one of the best-natured rebels I ever
saw, and, like his superior, did not care which side came out best, so
long as he was not hurt. The guard was only ten in number, while we,
including the Tennesseeans, were twenty--a great falling off in
precaution from their former custom.

We were crowded into rude box-cars, and soon began to suffer severely
with the cold, for the night air was most piercing. It was the 3d of
December, and we had only summer clothing, which was, in addition,
very ragged. At about three o'clock in the morning we arrived at
Dalton. We were not to go through Chattanooga.

The stars were sparkling in light and frosty brilliancy when we
stopped. The other train, on which we were to con