d
received his mortal wound. That countenance, full of hate and revenge,
haunted him for weeks afterwards, in the solitude of his tent, and on his
midnight vigils as a sentinel.

As he sat in the boat, thinking of the events of the morning, and
listening to the mournful rippling of the waters, which, to his subdued
soul, sounded like the requiem of his victim, he was challenged from the
shore again.

"Who comes there!"

Tom jumped up, and saw a sentinel on the bank pointing his gun at him. He
surveyed the form with anxious interest; but this time he had nothing to
fear, for the soldier wore the blue uniform of the United States army.

"Friend," replied he, as he grasped his paddle.

"Come ashore, or I'll put a bullet through you," added the sentinel.

"Don't do it!" said Tom, with energy. "Can't you see the colors I wear."

"Come ashore, then."

"I will."

The soldier boy worked his paddle with vigor and skill, and it was
astonishing to observe with what better success than when invited to land
by the grayback up the river. The guard assisted him in landing and
securing his boat.

"Who are you?" demanded he, as he gazed at Tom's wet and soiled garments.

"I was taken prisoner at Bull Run, and came back on my own hook."

"Perhaps you were, but you can't pass these lines," said the soldier.

Tom was sent to the Federal camp, and passed from one officer to another,
till he was finally introduced to General Banks, at Harper's Ferry. He was
questioned in regard to his own adventures, the country he had passed
through, and the troops of the enemy he had seen. When, to use his own
expression, he had been "pumped dry," he was permitted to rest a few days,
and then forwarded to his regiment.

CHAPTER XXIV.

BUDD'S FERRY.

Though Tom Somers had been absent from the regiment only a fortnight, it
seemed to him as though a year had elapsed since the day of the battle
when he had stood shoulder to shoulder with his townsmen and friends. He
had been ordered to report to the provost marshal at Washington, where he
learned that his regiment was at Bladensburg, about six miles from the
city. Being provided with the necessary pass and "transportation," he soon
reached the camp.

"Tom Somers! Tom Somers!" shouted several of his comrades, as soon as they
recognized him.

"Three cheers for Tom Somers!" shouted Bob Dornton.

The soldier boy was a favorite in the company, and his return was
sufficient to justif