"Thanks, no; I will be the last," said Duncan; "and take charge of Allison here, who is too weak to travel far alone."
"Then I'm off," returned the voice. "Don't lose a minute in following me."
"Now, Allison," whispered Harry, "summon all your strength and courage, old fellow."
"Duncan, you are a true and noble friend! God reward you. Let me be last."
"No, in with you, man! not an instant to spare;" and with kindly force he half lifted his friend into the well, and guided him to the mouth of the tunnel.
Allison crept through it as fast as his feeble strength would permit, Duncan close behind him.
They emerged in safety, as the others had done before them; at once scattering in different directions.
These two moved on together, for several minutes, plunging deeper and deeper into the woods, but presently paused to take breath and consider their bearings.
"Oh, the air of liberty is sweet!" exclaimed Duncan, in low, exultant tones; "but we mustn't delay here."
"No; we are far from safe yet," panted Allison, "but—'prayer and provender hinder no man's journey'; Duncan, let us spend one moment in silent prayer for success in reaching the Union lines."