Once more I had the good fortune to obtain a passage across the river in a ferry-boat, and was soon pressing onward upon the other side. Passing through two places called St. Mary's and St. John's, I followed the railroad to a village which I was informed was called Stotsville, [Footnote: I beg leave once more to remind the reader that it is by no means certain that I give these names correctly. Hearing them pronounced, with no idea of ever referring to them again, it is not strange that mistakes of this kind should occur.] a great part of the property being owned by a Mr. Stots, to whom I was at once directed. Here I stopped, and was kindly received by the gentleman and his wife. They offered me refreshments, gave me some articles of clothing, and then he carried me twelve miles, and left me at Rouse's Point, to take the cars for Albany. He gave me six dollars to pay my expenses, and a letter of introduction to a gentleman by the name of Williams, in which he stated all the facts he knew concerning me, and commended me to his care for protection. I think he said Mr. Williams lived on North Pearl street, but I may be mistaken in this and also in some other particulars. As I had no thought of relating these facts at the time of their occurrence, I did not fix them in my mind as I otherwise should have done. Mr. Stots said that if I could not find the gentleman to whom the letter was directed, I was to take it to the city authorities, and they would protect me. As he assisted me from the carriage he said, "You will stop here until the cars come along, and you must get your own ticket. I shall not notice you again, and I do not wish you to speak to me." I entered the depot intending to follow his directions; but when I found the cars would not come along for three hours, I did not dare to stay. There was quite a large collection of people there, and I feared that some one would suspect and stop me. I therefore resolved to follow the railroad, and walk on to the next station. On my way I passed over a railroad bridge, which I should think was two miles long. The wind blew very hard at the time, and I found it exceedingly difficult to walk upon the narrow timbers. More than once I came near losing my precarious footing, and I was in constant fear that the train would overtake me before I got over. In that case I had resolved to step outside the track where I thought I could stand upon the edge of the bridge and hold on by the telegraph poles, and thus let them pass without doing me injury. Happily, however, I was not compelled to resort to this perilous expedient, but passed the bridge in safety. At the end I found another nearly as long, connected with it by a drawbridge. When I drew near it was up for a boat to pass; but a man called to me, and asked if I wish to go over. I told him I did, and he let down the bridge. As I approached him he asked, "Are you mad? or how came you here?" I told him I had walked from the depot at Rouse's Point.