awe, akin to fear. The shadows that enwrapped
them as they came beneath the buildings, and the fitful gleams of
moonlight that fell upon them when streets were crossed, seemed not
lights and shadows at all, but strange, intangible things. And when at
length they reached the outer limit of the village, and the distant
woods were seen by the moon's rays, our travellers felt as if they had
been wandering in a graveyard, where the tombs were houses, and they
wished they were in the swamp again, where such uncanny fancies never
troubled them. When the toad and lizard, snakes and other loathsome
things, crawled around their swampy bed, they cared nothing; but the
dead silence of a cloudless night, brooding over a swarm of their
fellow-beings, brought with it a feeling they could not account for or
understand; and therefore it was with a sense of great relief they found
themselves at the outer edge of the town.

Their satisfaction, however, was somewhat moderated when, at a sudden
turn of the road, they abruptly came upon a man and a boy, who were
picking their way with such velvety tread that the two parties were face
to face before either was aware of the proximity of the other. The
strangers appeared to be the more alarmed, for they were just making a
secret and rapid detour with the view of debouching into a side street,
when, feeling sure that none but fugitives would be so anxious to escape
an interview, Glazier hailed them:

"Don't be uneasy, boys! We're friends! We're Yankees!"

His conjecture proved correct. The strangers were Captain Bryant, of the
Fifth New York Cavalry, and a friend. "They had," says Captain Glazier,
"a negro guide, who was to secrete them in a hut until the next night,
when they were to proceed, as we had done, and reach the line of freedom
by the nearest route."

The interview was brief, the parties differing as to which was the most
expedient route, and the discussion terminated by each taking the one he
thought best. Glazier and his comrade made off to a swamp, and upon
securing a safe resting-place, were overjoyed to find a venerable sow
and her litter approaching. They greeted the porcine mother, says our
friend, "otherwise than did wandering Aeneas the _alba sus_ lying under
the hollow trees of ancient Italy," for, "enticing them with crumbs of
hoe-cake," they both in unison struck a juvenile porker on the head with
a heavy stick, and a mammoth knife, the gift of Uncle Zeb, came into
re