The station was behind us, out of sight, and we were leaning back enjoying ourselves, when Milicent glanced behind her. I was looking out of the window when I felt her hand on my arm. “Don’t look suddenly. But when you can, glance behind us.” Three seats behind us sat the provost’s deputy. He was reading a paper, or, rather, watching us over a paper which he held up before him. He kept us under close observation the whole way. We had no opportunity to consult about the difficulties of the situation, but we felt that we were to elude our shadow in Baltimore or not at all. Carriages stood thick around the depot. Drivers were cracking their whips and importuning the public for patronage. We stepped off the platform into the midst of them, got to haggling about prices, and found ourselves mixed up in a lot of carriages, the yelling and screaming drivers having closed up behind us around the platform to which they had turned their attention. There we saw the deputy’s hat revolving rapidly, as if he were turning himself about to catch sight of us. Chance stood our friend. We happened to stand between two carriages, the doors of which hung open. A party of two ladies stepped into one. Instantly we took the other. “Drive fast to No. -- Charles Street,” Milicent said to the driver. Several carriages rolled out of the depot with our own, and before we reached Mrs. Harris’s we felt that we had escaped the deputy. Once with mother and Bobby we forgot him. CHAPTER XV I FALL INTO THE HANDS OF THE ENEMY Mrs. Harris kept a select and fashionable boarding-house. There were many regular boarders and a stream of people coming and going all the time. She was a Southern sympathizer, and her house was a hotbed of sedition and intrigue for both sides. Among her guests were three Yankee officers, whom I made up my mind--or, rather, my mind needed no making up--to dislike. Uniform and all, I objected to them. The day after we came Mrs. Harris was chatting with us in mother’s room. “I must introduce you to those Federal officers who are in the house,” she remarked. “I beg you will not!” I replied indignantly. “I will have nothing to do with them.” “Then you will make a grave mistake, my child. That course would betray you at once. You’ve put your head into the lion’s mouth, and prudence is the better policy until you get it out again. If you meet these officers and are civil to them they may be of assistance to you when you want to go back.” Accordingly, when our household met as usual in the parlors that evening, Captain Hosmer, Assistant Adjutant-General William D. Whipple, of Schenck’s command, and Major Brooks--also, I think, of Schenck’s command--were presented to me.