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"And a suit of unie-fawm!" called Cécile, with her Creole accent.

"Prisoners making a break!" I forgot all my tatters and stood on tiptoe in the stirrups to overpeer the fence-row. The next instant--"Sh--sh!" said I and slid to the ground. "Hold this bridle!" I gave it to Camille. "Don't one of you make a sound or a motion; there's a Yankee coming across this field in the little gully just behind us."

"I tell her as a friend," he said, "she'll get one into Fortress Monroe yet!"

"That will do. Now, beyond Fayette, about seven miles north, there's a place--"

"Whose hand was it; that fellow's, yonder?" Oliver was several paces away.

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