"Well, Marster, I didn't part from 'em till I seed whar they stopped. And if you'll take me up behind you, I'll show you the way to the place where they are hiding. It an't fur from here, not so very fur, I mean." "Oh! ho! that is good! So, so, my run-a-ways! I shall nab you, shall I?" exclaimed Purley in triumph, as he beckoned the negro imp to jump up behind him. "But stop!" said Robert Munson, in an agony of terror for the safety of Sybil Berners. "Stop! What are you about to do? You are about to abduct Farmer Nye's slave!" "Do you belong to Farmer Nye, boy? Though it don't matter a bit who you belong to. I'll take anybody I can lay hold of to guide me to the hiding-place of my prisoner--in the name of the Commonwealth of Virginia," said this new bailiff, who seemed to think that formula of words, like an absolute monarch's signet ring, was warranty for every sort of proceeding. "But I don't belong to nobody. I's fee, and so's mammy. We an't got no master, and I an't got no daddy to lord it over me!" put in the boy. "That's right, jump up behind," said the elder bailiff. And as soon as little Bill was safely perched up in the rear of his patron, the latter put spurs to his horse and gallopped off at full speed. They went down the left hand, or south fork of the cross-roads, and gallopped on until they reached the branch road leading west. They turned into that road and pursued it mile after mile, through field and forest, mountain pass and valley plain, until, late in the afternoon, they reached another mountain range, and heard the roaring of a great torrent. They entered the black gap, and slowly and cautiously made their way through it. By the time they had emerged from the pass, the night was pitch dark. "How shall we ever find our way?" inquired Purley who, fatigued and half famished, was ready to sink with exhaustion. "Do you see that then gabble ind stickin' up through the trees?" inquired the boy. "Yes, I see it!" "Well, him and her is in there?" "Are you sure?" inquired Purley, anxiously. "Here I is, Marster! If him and her ar'n't in there, here I is in your power, and you may skin me alive!" "All right!" exclaimed Purley, and dismounting from his horse, he advanced towards the thicket, followed by Munson and the negro boy. CHAPTER XXXV. THE FUGITIVES. They may not set a foot within their fields, They may not pull a sapling from their hills, They may not enter their fair mansion house.--HOWITT. Lyon and Sybil had ridden on through the darkness, over that wild country road. Their horses had had a very hard day's work in the wagon harness, and had not recovered from their fatigue. They were still very tired, and all unaccustomed to the saddle. The road was also very rough, and the night very dark. Their progress was therefore difficult and slow.