"The Guard," said he, "searched this building last Thursday, unsuccessfully, and are hardly likely to try it again just yet."
Soon, lying near a fire upon a warm feather-bed, we wooed the drowsy god with all the success which the hungry Salisbury vermin, sticking closer than brothers, would permit.
XVI. Monday, January 2.
Climbing the Blue Ridge.
Before night the guide returned from conducting Boothby's party, and assured us that the coast was clear. After dark, invigorated by tea and apple brandy, we followed our pilot by devious paths up the steep, fir-clad, piny slope of the Blue Ridge.
The view from the summit is beautiful and impressive; but for our weariness and anxiety, we should have enjoyed it very keenly.
A few weeks before, the Unionist now leading us had sent his little daughter of twelve years, alone, by night, fifteen miles over the mountains, to warn some escaping Union prisoners that the Guard had gained a clue to their whereabouts. They received the warning in season to find a place of safety before their pursuers came.
We were now on the west side of the Ridge. A heavy rain began to fall, and, though soaked and weary, we were glad to have our tracks obliterated, and thus be insured against pursuit.
"The labor we delight in physics pain;"
but in this case the effort was so arduous that the panacea was not very effective. Thomas Starr King tells the story of a little man, who, being asked his weight, replied: