The unexpected denouement at the house had rendered the major and captain doubly anxious; for now nothing but the most consummate skill and daring could save them from recapture; and, while the former kept close watch on the house to catch the first sign of pursuit that should be made, the latter gave vent to his feelings by railing, in his broken English, first at George for proposing such an expedition, and then by deprecating his own folly for yielding his consent to it. But there was no help now; regrets could not mend the matter, and nothing but rapid flight could save them.
When they reached the end of the field, George became suddenly aroused. Brushing away the tears that dimmed his eyes, he placed himself at the head of the party, and started on at a rapid pace through the woods.
CHAPTER XVIII.
Almost Betrayed.
Whither he was leading them no one knew, or cared to ask; for, if they had entertained any suspicions in regard to George, the scene at the house had dispelled them; and knowing that he had as much, if not more, cause to dread recapture than themselves, they relied implicitly on him to get them out of their present difficulty.
The woods were pitch-dark, but George seemed to understand what he was about, and, for two hours, not a word was spoken, except, perhaps, now and then a growl of anger, as some one stumbled over a log or bush that lay in his way. Finally, the softness of the ground under their feet indicated that they were approaching a swamp. George now paused, and said:
"Major, with your permission, we will stop here until daylight. It is impossible to go further in this darkness, for it is an ugly road to travel."
"What makes you take to the swamp?" inquired Frank.
"It is a short cut across the country," answered George, "and if we are pursued by blood-hounds we can more easily elude them."
Between sleeping and listening for the noise of pursuit, the fugitives passed the night. As soon as day began to dawn, they made a hasty breakfast on the provisions which they had obtained at the plantation, and resumed their journey. George led the way into the swamp, and, as he seemed to choose the most difficult path, their progress was necessarily slow and laborious. About the middle of the afternoon the swamp became almost impassable, and the major was about to suggest the propriety of picking out an easier path, when George suddenly halted on the banks of a narrow, but deep and sluggish, stream, and, wiping his forehead with his coat-sleeve, said, with something like a sigh of relief: