A sort of sharp yelp of dismay came out of the darkness. Old Ephraim wriggled and shuffled his feet audibly on the rocks in his effort at emphasis and absolute negation. "Marse Julius you is gone _de_ranged! Surely, surely, you is los' what sense you ever had! Chaney wouldn't loan ye ez much ez a apern or a skirt out'n her chist ter save ye from de pit o' perdition! I hes been reckless and darin' in my time, but de Lawd knows I never was so forsook by Providence as ter set out ter carry off any wearin' apparel belongin' ter dat 'oman, what's gin ober ter de love o' de cloes in her chist. Dat chist is de idol ob dat _de_stracted heathen 'oman, an' de debbil will burn her well for de love o' de vanities she's got tucked away dar. Chaney's cloes! Gawd A'mighty! _Chaney's_ cloes! Borry _Chaney's_ cloes!" "Well, whose clothes, then, Uncle Ephraim? You know I couldn't get into the citizen's clothes I left at home. I'm three inches taller, and a deal stouter. And it would be dangerous to try to buy clothes." "Lissen; I disremembered dere wuz a trunk in de garret what wuz brung down from de Devrett place when de Yankees tore down de house an' built de fort. It b'longed ter yer cousin Frank's wife's brother, an' wuz sent home atter de war broke out when he died in some outlandish place--I dunno whar, in heathen land. As I knowed he wuz tall an' spare, I 'lowed de cloes mought fit dee. So I opened de trunk--an' de cloes wuz comical; but not as comical as a Rebel uniform in dese days an' dis place." Julius had a vague vision of himself, robed in the comicalities of the dress of the Orient,--Japanese or Arabian or Turkish,--seeking an escape in obscurity and inconspicuousness, through the closely drawn Federal lines. "Oh, Uncle Ephraim!" he whined, almost in tears, because of the futility of every device, every hope. "You wait till I show dem ter dee!" exclaimed Uncle Ephraim, hustling out the bundle from under his coat. It proved to be a small portmanteau that had been itself enclosed in the trunk. This much was discernible by the sense of touch. Old Ephraim placed it on the ground, and then, lowering his voice mysteriously, he asked solemnly, "Marse Julius, is you sure acquainted with dis place?" "I certainly am," declared Julius, the tense vibration of triumph in his voice. "I know it from end to end!" "Den, ef I wuz ter strike a light, could dem sentries see hit at de furder e-end?" "Not to save their souls. We're ever so far down, and the tunnel has already made three turns." "Ef dey wuz ter follow us, dey couldn't crope up unbeknownst on us?" "They'd break their necks at the entrance if they didn't know the place or have a ladder." "Dere is a ladder ter de stable, dough," the old man urged, vaguely uneasy. "We'd hear 'em putting it down." "Dat's so! Dat's so!" cried Uncle Ephraim, all cheerful alacrity once more.