Then giving her a most affectionate hug, she put a paper of eatables in her hand, and helped her to mount the horse before Uncle Simon, who was already in the saddle. Where or how the old man procured the horse and equipments, HE knew--but nobody else did. The animal was a fast trotter, and brought them speedily five miles to the village, where Tidy was to take the stage-coach to Baltimore. It was before railroads and steam-engines were much talked of in Virginia. Alighting in the outskirts of the town, Simon lifted the young girl to the ground, and hastily commending her to "de bressed Lord of heaben and earf," he bade her good-by, and went back to his bondage and toil. They never saw each other again. The day was fine, and riding a novel occupation for Tidy, but so full was her trembling heart of anxiety and fear that she could not enjoy it. She was afraid to look out of the window lest she might be recognized by some one; and she dared not look at the two pleasant-faced gentlemen who were in the coach with her, lest they might question her, and find out her true condition. So she cuddled back as closely as possible in the corner, and when they kindly offered her cakes and fruit, she just ventured to say, "No, thank you." Her own food, which the dear old nurse had taken so much pains to put up for her, lay untouched in her lap, for her heart was so absorbed she could not eat. Night brought her to the hotel in Baltimore. The great city, the large building, and busy servants running hither and thither quite bewildered her, and she had to watch herself very closely lest she should betray herself. The waiters looked at her rather suspiciously; but she behaved with all propriety, called for her room and supper, paid for what she had, and in the morning was ready to take her seat in the northern stage, and no one ventured to molest or question her. How her heart leaped when she found herself safely on her way to Philadelphia. One day more, and she would be in a free city. What she should do when she arrived there, how she was to support herself in future, did not trouble her. That she might stand on free soil, and lift up her eyes to the stars that shone on her liberated body was all she thought of; and to-night this was to be. With every step of the plodding horses, she grew bolder and more assured, and her faith and hope and joyousness rose. But, alas! there was a lion in the way of which she had not dreamed. "Your pass!" shouted a grim-looking man, as she stepped, bag in hand, with gentle dignity on the boat that was to take her across the stream which divided slave territory from our free States. "Where's your pass? Don't stand there staring at me," said the official, as the frightened girl looked up as if for an explanation. A pass! She had never once thought of that! No one had mentioned her need of it. What was she to do? She looked confounded and terrified.