“All right,” answered Frank; and he seated himself on the lower step, and talked with the guards until he was informed that it was high time he was “travelin’ back up sta’rs.”

“Very well,” answered Frank, rising to his feet, and stretching himself, “I’ll go, if you want me to.”

And he did go.  With one bound he dashed by the astonished guards, and, before they could fire a shot, he had disappeared in the darkness.

His escape had been accomplished much easier than he had anticipated.  He had expected at least a shot from the guards, and, perhaps, a struggle with them; for, when he left his quarters, he had determined to escape, or die in the attempt.  In a few moments he reached the bushes that lined the road on both sides, and threw himself flat among them, and determined to wait until his pursuers had passed on, so that he would be on their trail, instead of having them on his.  It was well that he had adopted this precaution, for he had scarcely concealed himself before the roll of a drum announced that the guards were being aroused, and that the pursuit was about to commence; and presently a squad of cavalry dashed rapidly by, and a crashing in the bushes told him that a party of men were searching the woods for him.  As soon as his pursuers were out of hearing, Frank rose to his feet, and ran along the road, close to the bushes, so that, if he heard any one approaching, he would have a place of concealment close at hand.  He had made, perhaps, half a mile in this way, when he discovered a man pacing up and down the road, with a musket on his shoulder.  He was evidently a picket; and Frank, knowing that his comrades were not far off, drew back into the bushes, out of sight.  Which way should he go now?  This was a question which he could not answer satisfactorily.  There was, doubtless, another picket-post not far off, and if, in going through the woods, he should stumble upon it, he would be shot down before he had a chance for flight.  Should he attempt to pass the sentinel by strategy?  This seemed to be the most feasible plan, for he would have a much better chance to escape in running by one man, than risking the shots of half a dozen.  Besides, he had no weapon whatever, and he resolved to secure the picket’s gun, if possible; so, waiting until his back was turned, he came out of his place of concealment, and approached him.

“Who comes there?” shouted the picket.

“A friend,” answered Frank.

“Advance, friend, and give the countersign.”

“Never mind the countersign,” answered Frank; “I haven’t got it.  Have you seen any thing of an escaped Yankee prisoner out here?”

“No,” answered the rebel, lowering his gun, which he had held at a charge bayonet.  “He didn’t come around here.  But a company of cavalry went by just now, and my relief went with them.”

“And left you here alone?” said Frank, who had continued to approach the picket, until he was now within arm’s length of him.