tion in that direction. Of course the cavalry are all
on the other flank, and it will be supposed that I shall try either to
work round that way or to make straight through the lines. They would
hardly suspect that I shall take to the river, which is covered with
their transports and storeships."

"I think that is the best plan," the woman said. "There are scarcely any
villages between this and the river. It's only just when you cross the
road between Petersburg and Williamsburg that you would be likely to
meet a soul, even in the daytime. There is scarce even a farmhouse
across this section. I know the country pretty well. Just stop a minute
and I will run up to the wood and fetch down the horse. There's a big
wood about a mile away, and you can turn him in there."

A few minutes later they started, Vincent leading the horse and Tony
carrying the bundle of food and his cast-off uniform. The woman led them
by farm roads, sometimes turning off to the right or left, but keeping
her way with a certainty which showed how well she was acquainted with
the country. Several times they could hear the dull sound of bodies of
cavalry galloping along the roads; but this died away as they got
further into the country. The horse had been turned loose a mile from
their starting place. Vincent removed the bridle and saddle, saying: "He
will pick up enough to feed on here for some time. When he gets tired of
the woods he can work his way out into a clearing."

Here Tony hid away his uniform among some thick bushes, and the three
walked steadily along until the first tinge of daylight appeared on the
sky. Then the woman stopped.

"The river is not more than half a mile in front of you," she said; "so
I will say good-by."

"What will you do?" Vincent asked. "You might be questioned as you get
near home."

"I am going to put up at the last house we passed," she said; "about
three miles back. I know the people there, and they will take me in. I
will stop there for a day or two, maybe, then walk back, so I shall have
a true story to tell. That's all right."

Vincent said good-by to her, with many hearty thanks for the services
she had rendered him, and had almost to force her to take notes for two
hundred dollars from the bundle he had sewn up in the lining of his
coat.

"You have saved my life," he said, "and some day I hope to be able to do
more to show my gratitude; but you must take this, anyhow, to tide you
over the hard time,