writing at such times, and would always provide him with a pass without asking very carefully whether it was his day to go to town, or not.
Jo had long meditated an escape, more for the sake of Mary, and for the anxiety they both felt for their little boy, James, than on his own account. On his way home one Sunday evening, he fell in company with a gentleman walking in the same direction. Jo knew by his language that he was from the north, and felt, (as he expressed it,) in his bones, that the gentleman might be trusted as a friend. I need not relate all that passed between them ; another interview was appointed at the end of two weeks, at which time it was arranged that Mary and the little boy should remain a while longer, and Jo was to start with some others, three weeks from that evening.
Just after it was dark, at the time appointed, at the signal, Jo slowly raised his head above a clump of bushes in which he was concealed, in the old cemetery by the turnpike, near the bounds of the city, and was astonished to see four other heads arise as if they came out of the graves, from behind tombstones and low bushes; all of them silent and motionless, until they heard signal No. 2, when, with silent tread, they all approached the signal station, trembling with superstitious fear, without even daring to whistle to keep off the “spooks.” When they came together, all of them were surprised to find that they were acquainted and related to each othen Each knew that others were going, but none knew who the others were until they met among the tombs. The other four had been hired out by Colonel H. to different parties in the city, and not one had revealed to any other the secret of their movements. The man who met them there was a stranger to all of them, as they expected he would be, but having exchanged signals they con
