"Yes, massa," whined the darkey, in the most abject tones. "Now come with me, Blackee, and if you open your mouth, one of these pills shall go down your throat." Tom flourished his pistol before the negro, and led the way to the window by which he had entered the house. Passing out upon the veranda, he cautiously conducted the terrified servant to the road; and when they had gone a short distance, he halted. "Now, Blackee, what town is this?" demanded Tom. "Leeds Manor, sar," replied the trembling negro. "How far is it to the Shenandoah River?" "Only two or tree miles, massa. Now let dis chile go home again." "Not yet." "Hab mercy on dis nigger dis time, and sabe him." "I won't hurt you, if you behave yourself." Tom questioned him for some time in regard to the river, and the towns upon its banks; and when he had obtained all the information in regard to the valley which the servant possessed, he resumed his journey, driving the negro before him. "Spare dis chile, massa, for de sake ob de wife and chil'n," pleaded the unwilling guide. "I tell you I won't hurt you if you behave yourself," replied Tom. "You'll have the whole place down upon me in half an hour, if I let you go now." "No, massa; dis nigger won't say one word 'bout you, nor de tings you took from de house--not one word, massa. Spare dis chile, and luff him go home." But Tom compelled him to walk before him till they came to the river. The place was called Seaburn's Ford. "Now, Blackee, if anybody wants me, tell them I've gone to Winchester," said Tom, when he had ordered his escort to halt. "No, massa, I won't say one word," replied the servant. "If you do, I'll shoot you the very next time I see you--depend upon that. You can go now." The negro was not slow to avail himself of this privilege, and ran off, evidently expecting a bullet from the revolver would overtake him before he had gone far, for he glanced fearfully over his shoulder, begging his captor not to shoot him. Tom stood upon the bank of the Shenandoah. The negro had told him that he was about thirty miles from Harper's Ferry, which he knew was in possession of General Patterson's forces. Attached to a tree on the shore was a small flat-bottomed boat, which attracted the attention of the soldier boy. Tom was accustomed to boats, and the sight of this one suggested a change of programme, for it would be much easier to float down the stream, than to walk the thirty miles. This was a point which needed no argument; and unfastening the painter of the boat, he jumped in, and pushed off. Seating himself in the stern, with the paddle in his hand, he kept her head with the current, and swept down the rapid stream like a dreamy youth just starting upon the voyage of life.