We gave him some refreshment, and conducted him to a room, assuring him that he should have it to himself.  All remained quiet until midnight, when a man knocked cautiously at our door.  I opened it myself, and a gentleman, looking carefully about the place, inquired,

“Are you full?”

“No,” said I.

“Have you any travelers here to night?”

“Yes.”

“How many?”

“Two.”

“Where are they?”

“In this room; walk in, sir.”

He took the light from my hand, and stepping lightly up to a bed, where two travelers were quietly sleeping, he closely examined their faces.  He soon returned the light, and without further inquiry retired from the house.  When his companions came up, I distinctly heard him tell them that the smuggler was not there.

“You may be mistaken,” said the other, “and we must search the barn for his horses.”

This they did thoroughly, after procuring a lantern; but without finding any thing to reward their diligent search; and they finally drove off.

When they had gone, Cannouse groaned most bitterly, and trembled from head to foot at the thought of his narrow escape.  The next day an officer rode up to where the children were playing, with a handbill which he read, and inquired if they had seen a person bearing that description, pass that day? They answered negatively, and he rode on.  The poor frightened Cannouse stayed with us a week; and nearly every day during the time, the house and barn were searched for him.  The children kept watch, and when they saw any one coming they would let him know, in time to take himself and horses into a thicket near by.  When he thought pursuit was over, he started to leave; but when, in a half hour after, a posse of men drove up to my door, flourishing their handbills, I thought it all over with Cannouse.  I told them that he was not there; but they chose to have another search, and when they found nothing, the officer sprang into his carriage, exclaiming, “come on, boys; we’ll soon have him now; we have tracked him here, and he can’t be far off.”

Cannouse had left us, feeling quite secure; but he had traveled but a short distance, when he observed a horse shoe loose, and to get it fastened he drove down to a blacksmith’s shop, which happened to stand at the foot of a hill; and between it and the highway there had been left standing a clump of trees which nearly hid it from view.  While there, getting his horse shod, the officers passed him unobserved, and he finally escaped.

Some time after, a gentleman called on us who had seen Cannouse in Michigan, where he was doing well.  He had succeeded in reaching Detroit, from whence he passed safely to his home; but probably learned a lesson not to be forgotten.  He was a talented young man—­one who would have felt deeply the disgrace of imprisonment,—­and it was indeed a pleasure to me to do what I could, to effect his release from an unenviable position.  I would never have betrayed him; but happily I was not asked directly for him, until he was gone from my house and protection.