So the talk ran on, while the man lit a lantern and cared for his horse. That he was a Union sympathizer there was no doubt. He had just made a visit to General Keyes’s headquarters with the plans of the Confederate fortifications in and about Richmond. Louis felt his heart bound within him. Here were friends who would surely assist him. He came to the edge of the loft. “Below there,” he whispered. “Ha! who is there?” ejaculated the man, leaping back and snatching up his pistol, which lay on a feed box. “Don’t fire, sir. I heard you talk and I throw myself upon your sympathy. I am a Union soldier, just escaped from the prison two blocks over from here--a place that used to be a pork-packing establishment--and the guards are searching everywhere for me. So far they have no clew to my whereabouts, and--” “Come down here and let me look at you,” was the interruption, and Louis ran down the ladder. The man held up his lantern. “Pennsylvania Volunteers, eh?” he said, briefly. “Humph! How long were you up in the loft?” “An hour. You will assist me, won’t you? I don’t want to go back to that awful hole.” Louis looked at the woman. “Bring him into the house, Robert,” she said, turning to her husband. “I am sure he speaks the truth, for when I was at the window waiting for you I heard some men go by who were talking about two prisoners having just escaped.” “They were myself and a friend, madam. I don’t know what has become of my friend, but I trust he is safe.” “Come along, young man,” said the man. “And if you heard anything of importance the quicker you forget it the better it will be for you,” and taking Louis by the arm he led the way through the garden into the house. Once inside of the house Louis was conducted to a large sitting-room, well furnished. Here he was invited to take a seat, while his host looked to it that every curtain was carefully drawn down and the outer doors locked. “Now I will listen to your story,” said the man, dropping into an easy chair. “Won’t you have your supper first, Robert?” interposed his wife. “Perhaps you are hungry, too?” she added, turning to the young soldier. “I am--but I want to know that I’m safe from the rebels before I begin to eat,” was the quick reply. “You are safe here, my lad--only don’t speak of rebels so loudly, for even walls have ears, you know.” The man drew two chairs up to the center table. “We’ll eat here, Lucy; it will be safer, in case there is an interruption from the outside.” In a few minutes a smoking hot supper was brought in from the kitchen. The lady had cooked it herself, all of her servants having been discharged, that they might not pry into the affairs of the household. Never had a meal tasted better to Louis, and he said so, after he had eaten and related his tale at the same time. “You were lucky to get away, Rockford,” said Robert Dowling, for such was the man’s name. “And you were lucky to strike this place, don’t you think so?”