Historical Newspapers of South Carolina

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' *? ??a^ - V, *'> '. ?. ?-.# * * f^"-" .* *: " " ; '.' ~ - '*'* l^WWi ;S "'' "v .'v^.'-'-'V^' "' ? _ ^ j ^ ^ J _ ^ ^r?-?^^ ^ ^ ^ . j. e.&l. m. obist, jProprietors ^it |it^pitkn{ ^bmIj ^tiospptr: ?tix % .^rBmcli(Jii rf t|t political, facial, ^.gritulfaral anir Contmerrial |ateresfs of t|c |?v phb yeab, i? a&vahcb. ^ YOLUME10. ~~ ' 1 YORKYILLE, SOUTH CAROLINA, WEDNESDAY EYENING, MAI 25, 1864. . ,'.. , 5 ' ! . T 7 7 . . . Kr 1 < -';! . From the Southern Christian Advocate. CAPTURED IS ESCAPING. A STORY "OF QNE OF MVBGAS'S MEN. BY JANE T. H. CROSS. Chapter III.?Preparatory to Leave. Danoaci had been two weeks in prison Two weeks shut up ia inactivity, separatee from the sympathy of friends and from thi joy of companionship, hearing every daj from oqr enemies, the. most dispiriting ac counts 'of oar cause. As the light shi] * whiob was wont to fly before the wiods when suddenly becalmed in mid ocean, lie: and rooks herself with uneasy, unavailing motion, so dwelt bis soul iu the midst o this Weary stillness. One morning he paced the long gloomj passage with irrepressible restlessness, wit! infinite yearnings toward the onter world.? He thought to himself: "Why cannot 3 walk?forth as at other times ? Those iro'r bars stifle me, I cannot breathe! Whi can I not walk down the stairs and out the door into the world ? Those miserable wretches with their bayonets prevent mo ? Has my arm lo9t its strength ? Could I no dash them to the; earth ? But then then are others and others that would overpowe me, and here I am unarmed, powerless a: Sampson without his locks. My very heart withers in this prison 0 for a mouthful o free air! For the sight, if but for a sibglt * moment, of something belonging to th< woods !" The last words he uttered aloud and as he turned it seemed as if Diana h#c * heard the.wish and had oome in person tt answer it There stood before him a young girl?she might be sixteen?neither bole ' nor bashful. She was as straight as the branches of the wahoo, and the open gaze of her grey blae eye was as quiet as that o the young deer that has never yet heard thi sound of the huntsman's born. Her ligh brown hair was caught up in a knot at th< back of her head, only, a tioy irrepressibh curl fell on one temple. She was robed ii silk, the color of the spring leaves, a whit< scarf encircled her form aod the heroo'i plume in her hat dropped over her cheel and heightened the delicacy of her bom plexion. A half blown rose was fastenec by the brooch which confined her collar.? Above this rose her neck white and round. Duncan's eye took in the vision at i glance. He paused. What man does no pause in. the presence of a pure and beauti ful girl ? Ao elderly lady whom he ba< not at all notioed, stepped forward and ad dressed him : "Are you a prisoner, sir ?' "I am, madam." "Afe yoh one of Morgan's men ?" row nnma is Arfair" The lady introduced herself?31-s. 3Inr ray. Then turning, introduced severa! young ladies who accompanied her. Dun ? can saw no one bnt Diana in her green robe Last of all the lady said : "My niece, Mis. Trousdale." "We have come," Mrs. Murray contin wed, "to see yon aqd the rest of the prison ers. We have taken the liberty of bringing you some delicacies, thinking they may be acceptable in a prison." When turning t< the Diana che said, "Pauline, my dear, tel the Bervant to bring up the basket." Duncan listened eagerly for the sound o ber voioe. It completed the enchantment The music echoed far down through th< chambers of bis heart. The other prisoners were called in. The hall was ImMm and gentlemep some standing, Some sitting upon chairs. nnnn n ?.?f. rhaf. (iirtrtd in u nomer. snmf ? w ?r- - ----I upoQ the window sill, but all talking cheer fully, even merrily, discnseiog the merits 01 rather the demerits of their enemies, with mingled laughter and abuse. The ladies,'to enliven the prisoners, gave them amusing accounts of the occupation ol Nashville by" the Yankees. Among othci things, Paulino Trousdale said laughingly <:Oue of their soldiers threaten* to kill tm before he returns North." ''To kill you !" exclaimed Duncan; am ? he fixed his eye upon her with a glance-o wonder. To him it was incomprchensibli 'not only that any one should threaten tokil her, but that the idea of death could be it any way connected with her. The forenoon passed rapidly away. Thi ladies rose to depart. The half-blown ros< on Paulino's bosom beoarne unfastened, ant * fell to the door. Duuoan picked it up, and said in a low and hurried tone : <;May ] keep it ?" ??0. oertaiolv!" she reDlied. "I will sent yoa a large boqoet to-morrow that will eefvi to make your room look more cheerful." The answer was very kinc*, but he die not like it. It was too frank, too unem barrassed. * "You will come again, perhaps, some time," he rejoined, "and bring me some thing to read, to beguile (he tedioushours.' He bad read enough of the heart of wornai to know that the surest way to interest her is to'make her feel that she is doing you i favor. Duncan was once more left alone. ID stood, looking upon the bud that was still it bis band. From its fragrant leaves a rosj mist came forth and enveloped him.? Through this delicious cloud were sceu si; castles, all resplendent, fair greeu forests enchanting vistas, fairy dells, gurgling wa terfalls, flowers, dow drops., birds?all' tkmakes paradise. And moving everywhere through the scene, enoircled by a bulo, wa ? the form of Pauline Trousdale. "Pool tha Iam!" at last he exclaimed. "She care nothing for me 1 How uaconoorned sb< was when she gave ine the rose bud. 6h< looked upon it as a gift of no importance, it wa9 bestowed upon a soldier?a prisone: ?and not upon me?Danoaa Adair. 0 course, she cares nothing forme?how couh she ? No girl of any sense wouid fall it love in two hours, and yet that is jnst wba I have done ; but I am a simpleton^ a block head. 0 if f jvero only free, and on mj -good horse once more; I might tnendo souk deed that would make we worthy of such t woman. I will be froe ! I will make the j attempt to get ont of hero, if it cost mo my ' life ! Bat then I must mot think of that girl?perhaps she loves another?I know nothing of her?1 believe my imprisonment* has made me weak. In other times I have looked npon hundreds of beautiful women, without being so touched. I must discour. age this folly." So saying to himself, he i threw the rose bucl upon the window sill,. ? and walked away. When he had reached j the door, he paused?turned?went back to . the window?took op the bud, and placing j it in his bosom, buttoned bis coat tightly , over it. So-much for the resolutions of 9 man ! ' A few mornings after, a soldier announoed f to Duncan that Mrs. Murray wished to see him. As be proceeded to what might'be ; called the prison reception room, he thought to himself, "Mrs. Murray! is that all?" and he -felt his heart beating violently against the rose bud. Tbo glimpse of a white dress through the open door way re assured him. There was Pauline, more lovely than ever; an aogel in muslins. It was useless debating the question with his heart. Her face undid all his arguments. She arose to meet him, provojringly self-possessed, and expressing her pleasure like a child. She had brought him a book. The more he talked with her, the more he was impressed with tho simplicity and earnestness of her character. Her heart seemed to him like a deep lake, clear to the very bottom. After awhile, she said to him, "You do not look so cheerful as you did the other morning. Do they keep you a very close prisoner here ?" Duncan looked around to see that none " ' ' -_J A1 01 toe xaaaees were very ueur, auu tueu answered io a cautious voice : "Not partio3' ularly j but I pine for freedom : this prison lrfe kills me; I shall make my escape " B ' . <40," she exolaimed, that will be delight* ful 1 How will you do it ?" He answered : "There is a window down* s stairs, *n which I have at different times , loosened all-the fastenings in the inside, so that they can be easily removed. But one j. obstacle remains to my opening the window, and that is a strong bolt upon the outside which must be drawn back." That must be done the night I make my escape, otherwise * it will be discovered in the morning and re* fastened and we shall be subjected to severer imprisonment* It is difficult to approach * the wiudow, even at night, because a sentinel stands near it. That is the first obsta) , cle. The second, is the sentinel at the head of the stairs, who would prevent my going -dtffHi. Among these "men, however, there is one who is disposed ti> be friendly ' to me. Sometimes he is placed there as sen 1 tiuel, and I think I oould prevail upon him to let uc pass. If I only knew the night he would be-stationed there, and could have s the bolt withdrawn the same night, everything might be accomplished, fur although ' in jumping from the window I must attract ' the attention of the sentinel, yet it will be I so sudden and unexpected that I think, if 3 the night is dark, I can elude him." | "Perhaps I can assist you," said Pauline. "You !" * "Yes, why not?" "Do you suppose I would implicate you J in an affair of that kind ?" "There would be no danger to mo." 3 Puncao looked up into her oandjd eyes > and smiled; saying: ' "What do you pro' pose ?" ) "If. you could let me koot? night your friend will stand guard, 1 think 1 know j | a iDiiu (ju iub utuer smu u* iuu nvci, nuu | will oomo and withdraw the bolt. Ho will tI then direct you to uiy father's hou-io. My j.1 father and mother arc both absent now iu ! Kentucky, where we expect to spend the j ^: summer, but my auot, there, Mrs. Murray, | [j has tne care of the bouse in their absence, ; aud no Confederate soldier was ever uuwelj; come at my father's. Now you see there is no danger to me. Do let me have the pleasure of feeling, that if I cannot fight myself, j i I have at least helped a soldier to the field." j "I am not so sure but that you* might fight. There is a good deal of calm resolu-j tion in your face." "We have to learn to be resolute now.? j Death is no longer terrible when contrasted with subjugation. Bat what do you think ^ of my plan ?" "Suppose the Yankees should learn that I you naa engaged tne mun to witnaraw tne 9 bolt?" "Tlfey dare Dot take my head off." j *<They might imprison you !" "I should not oare for that. I could not fight if I were out of prison ; and perhaps can serve my country better in prison than aDy where else." > "irou are a brave girl !" j "Not braver than others around me.? j There is not a girl in our neighborhood who [! would not be delighted to havo the opportu1 oity of assisting one of Morgan's men.? g I This affair, however, requires no courage, j. The mau whom I shall employ, is a true P | Southerner and a man of the strictest pro;.! bity; nothiug could induce hira to betray r us. There is no daugcr to me, I assure | you. I wiil speak to the man as I go home ' | to-day. To-morrow, and every day hereaf t| ter. I will como into town, uod ut eleven ,' o'clock I shall walk past the Penitentiary. 3; Would you know mo from here to the t|road?" 3; "I should know you at auy distance I ; could see you." 5 "Well, to be sure, I will wear the green ; dress that you saw me wear the other day. rj When everything is.ready, stand at the f! window and lift your handkerchief to your 1 face. That night I shall have the bolt i withdrawn before midnight. Will that do ?" t "Admirably." * Duncan thought her charming, bat conld' j not help wishing in his secret heart that she ? thought less of helpiag him merely as a solt dier; or as one of Morgan's men. A Chapter IV.?Leaving the Penitentiary. Fauline started home, herrheeks already flushed with exoitement. On her way she spoke to Mr. W?therepoon, the mechanic whom she hoped to interest in the case.? She was not disappointed. He readily undertook(the mission of withdrawing the bolt. The next morning Panline was np with the lark; restlessly busy with household affairs. Nothing went fast enough for her. Her aunt was a little surprised, when she heard her after breakfast order the carriage to go into town, but Pauline was an only child, who had always had her own way, and it never occurred to her annt to oppose her in any thing. * Pay after day she drove into town, day after day, she walked beyond the Penitentiary without seeing the signal. At last one morning she thought she saw the flatter of a white hankerchief. She walked very slowly; again she saw it raised. There I aamIJ La miotftlra T f m n a tLo oirvnol UUUiU UQ u\j ujiot/aav>< Xb nuo ?uu o?gun4?? After having gone some distance apon the road, she turned and she came back. She saw before her a' boy throwing a ball against the wall that enclosed the yard of the prison, and catching it as it rebounded. As site came near him he put the ball* into bis pocket, and walking carelessly along olo6e behind her, he said in a low voice: "Do not turn your hoad; are you Miss Trou3dale !" She answered, "Yes." "Miss Pauline Trousdale ?" "Yes." "Well, you had better stoop down to lace your gaiter. I have a note for you; I will drop it as I pass." She stooped as directed. The note was dropped and immediately seized and folded in her handkerchief. The bpy passed on without appearing to notice her. Hurrying to the house of a friend in the city, where she had engaged to take dinner, she ran up stairs to lay aside her bonnet, and while she was alone took the opportunity of reading the poto. It ran thus: "I nneynantfidlw find an nnnortunitv of send r j %? -rr*; j ? ing you a note. I hope you saw the signal. Remember the window, under the one near which wc sat. Totnight! To-morrow morning they propose sending me to a Northern prison. If I do not see the "ban, I think I shall be able to hod your house from the directions you gave me." Pauline was, feverish from anxiety. It seemed as if the dinner of her friend would never be setvfed, and when it came, she bad no appetite. She ate indiscriminately j of any dish that was offered ber, and never | before had found strawberries and bream so tiresome. The dinner over, there were : several thing* to be done in the oity for her annt. These must engage her for two or three hours. All, at length haying been accomplished, she with a sigh of relief, threw herself into the carriage and said : "Now uncle Ned, drive dht home." As she proceeded to the ferry she thought W o all, I need not feel sq anxious and harried. Everything is arranged. I need only stop and speak to Witberspdbn." After they had crossed the river, and had gone a little distance, she heard the car riago driver ejaculate: "I wonder what de matter at Mr. Widderspoon's V "What is it, uncle ?fed ?" "Makin' such a^parade ma'am." "Who is making such a parade ?" , "Dej/ is Ma'am." "Who?" "Dem Yankees, round Mr. Widderspoon's.'* "Drive up there unole Ned, and let me see what is the matter." The first thought that occurred to her was that her secret bad been disdovered.? Her hands grew icy coFd. A shiver ran through her frame. As she drew near the house, she saw Mr. Witherspoon in the custody of several soldiers. There was a considerable display of puns and bayonets. Site controlled herself sufficiently to say in - I . ?<TT ? .1. M.J _a ..I. a quiet ioac ; uuuiu neuj eiop too carriagc. Good evening, Mr. Witberspoon, what is the matter?'' "I am arrested, Miss Trousdale, and they arc taking me to prison." Then turning ta the soldiers he asked : "May I shako hands with Miss Trousdale and say, 'Good bye' to her." "Yes; bo qnick about it." He stepped up to her hastily, took her hand, and said in a whisper : "They know nothing of that business, but you see I cannot help you." Poor Paulino did see it with consternation. - She shook Jiis hand and said : "1 am very sorry !" Then getting out of tho carriage she went to his weeping wife and tried to console her. This office of mercy over, she entered the carriage and ordered the driver to "go on." Affairs seemed to have suddenly grown desperate. Just as, with much pains, everything had been arranged, by a single stroke all had been disarranged". This was the only night that offered an nnnrtrtnnifw nf oononft Tho navt r^on 1VT r rr ?J vuvupui jl uv uuau uuj j jlui* Adair would be taken to the North. Ooce there she could not tell the result?perhaps death, in prison. There was no exchange being made at that timo ; alio did not know when there would be. It was too late to procure any one else to withdraw the bolt; indeed, she knew not to whom else to apply. Here were a great many perplexing things for a girl of sixteen to think of! Having reached home, Pauline said to the driver: "Uncle Ned, when you have put away your horses, please oome to the summer-houso in the garden; I want to see you there." She ran up to her own room, closed the door, and threw herself upon her knees.? She had been taught that God cares for us, and that our smallest interest concerhs.Qim. { She remembered that He "looseth the prisoners," and she prayed, earnestly;? "Lord, direct me 1 Lord help me ! .Show me what to do!" She arose quietly to' consider the situation, Unole Ned was entirely faithful,1 and in his way intelligent, bat she never! * * f could make him understand where the win- g dow was; then she did not know whether s he would have the nerfe to go So near to a tl Yankee sentinel to assist a prisoner to make h his escape; in the third place, she thought s it would be oruel to expose the old servant d to danger.- On the other hand, Duncan A- s dair was depending altogether upon her as- o surances that ho should be free. She had ii offered her assistance. If she had not, he n probably might have obtained help from a some one else; but now it was impossible ? - -to morrow would be too late. ' s Pauline grew pale as she Said to herself: p "Well, he "must be free, that's all." Then a hastily ohanging ber dress for a dark calico h wrapper, she ran down to the summer bouse, v Uncle Ned soon made hu appearance? o As be came near she arosOftod said : "Uo- C cle Ned, do the Yankees station pickets on r this road V * c "Why yes; bless your soul, ^Vliss Pan- c line, dem debils everywhar." ? "Is it not possible to go through the tl woods and avoid them ?" f< The old man scratched bis head: "Yes, a Mioa* nonnta 'onirl? 'om onma timoa hnt h de got mighty sharp eyes?dom Yankees." ti "Very well,we'll get by them," or we'll e 'get round them at any rate." h " We get by 'eit? to get by e'm, Miss Pauline ?" P "You and I, uncle Ned," answered Pan- P line, "quietly." a' "Mercy *pon uad What de chile think ing of ?" "Hush unole Ned, don't speak so loud. ? I will tell you I have no one to help me b but you; I depend upon you." * "Yes, chile; you may 'pend upon me? You been always mon'suB^ood to me, and e< if you is gwine to take a wild goose chase, d I'll stick close to yon anyhow." ' . 01 "Well?but you must hot tell any one." o "Don't you be afraid, Miss. I come from h old Virginny, nuffsttid." ? n< "Well, as soon as it is dark, I am going M to to^p to night. I wish you (o go with & me. We cannot ride, for we should be di stopped by the pickets, so we must walk ^ and mast start early, as early as we can without being suspepted. There is a canoe ri I have frequently seen tied undef the old bi sycamore by the river. I am almost sore si we oan get that, and you will paddle me ^ over to the other side." I' "Yes, Miss, but thar's some driff still floating on the river." fj3 "That oannot be helped; we must try and avoid it." * n' "Sartinly, Miss Pauline; but I'm mighty jubous about the weather," and uncle Ned looked up at the sky, which becoming ? darkened with those hasty Bering clouds ~~ that so ofton gather. . - * A "If it rain," Pauline remarked, ''so much 00 the better." "Very well, Miss j I be ready." After tea, Mrs. Murray complaining of 1,1 ' "* * ^ v( a sugiit ueauacne, retirea to ner room, Pauline dismissed the servants telling them ? that she would see that the house was fast- . ened; then fastening all the doors except *D one at the back of the bouse, she passed ' out through that, and in a few minutes two figures might have been seen, one envelop- 8J ed to a black silk mantle, creeping stealtbi ly along through the lane, close io the pi shadow of the fence. The moon was wa- hi ding heavily through the olouds, and only co now and then, a burst of light fell upoD them. .Pauline's heart beat" so fast, that yf she felt as if it jeould burst through her bodice : her surpjessed breathing did not seem to furnish half the air that was neces- th sary for her lungs. - yc They had intended turning into a second lane that led from the firsL bnf oying she saw a man at the head of the lane touched uncle Ned, and climbing a fence, 10 dropped into the field beyond. Tbero a range of bushes screened them from the 'e fancied sentinel. The ground had been ^ plowed for* corn, and every step shQ sank ee into the soft earth. She straggled oi., how- 1,1 ever, until skp came to $ woodland pasture, 00 and there the walking was better, and the 8t) shade mpre secure. By the time the^ had Pc reached the river, the clouds had quite over w< cast the moon, and dashes of lightning from aD time to time, illuminated their way. The wind blew in gusts, and occasionally, large fe< drops of rain were felt upon their faces and ex hands. wl The ground was so familiar to uncle Ned so that the oanoe was found without much Pt difficulty, but it seemed to Pauline that she lei had never seen him so long about anything at as he was in untying the rope. She feared no every moment that a Yankee'soldier would se come. She bent her head and tfstened foi painfully, and at the sound of a passing an cow, she shrank upon the bank ready to be faint. Ot The canoe was unmoored, and Pauline ^ crouched down in the bottom while uncle aD Ned pushed it out from shore. It seemed a mere egg shell between them and the tur- rai bulent waters. The current was swift, and 80 althnurh the river was no longer rising, oc- ral casiooal logs and other drift-came floating past. The darkeDiog sky aided the passage P|( of the boat, for to one on shore it appeared J111 to "be but a portion of the drift. Uocle 1DI Ned used the .paddle softly, aod half floating half rowing, he at last reached the other 8U bank, but far below the print he bad attempted to g{un. ' * Neither had spoken a word. Pauline's mc feet were cold and wet with the water in the bottom of fbe oanoe, but she did not P'? notice it; her soul was swallowed up in ap- ?0? prehension, Once landed, she whispered : UP "Uucle, where can you fasten the canoay so that we oan find it again 1" he "Dar no place to fasten the oanoe here, for Miss Pauline. Don't you see it's all rock- ^ Ef you get in again, maybe I fine some plaoe 'long the river." yoi "0 no 1 I can't do that 1" We have wu not a moment to lose J besides it would only ela be running freab risk of discovery. de you stay here, uncle Ned, and keep the his fanoe until I come baok." nig Before the old man could replj, she was 1 one in the darkness, clambering .op the lippery rooks.' All alone, she straggled on hroagh the night. The horror of her elplessness came over her at times until he was sick from' fear. Then she would raw "oonrage from desperation. "Sorely," he would say to' herself, "God will take are of me. I am doing right. I am act- " og for Him, and for my country. He will otvdet anything hart me. 'What time I m afraid, I will trust in Thee.'" Thns rith alternate bravery and trepidation she till pursued her way. From caution she assed through the darkest streets, and they 11 seemed unfamiliar to her. The night ad grown so stormy that but few sentinels rere out, and these, from her knowledge f the town, She was enabled to shun.? )noe only she saw a soldier approaohing so apidly, that she gave op all hopes of esane. Jnst then to her right hand, she die a ? overed the gato of a coal-yard left ajar.? She slipped ia and conoealed herself among he piles of coal. She heard the soldier's jet ringing on the pavement, as he passed, nd her heart was quite in her throat, bat e had not observed her. ' Again, as she arned into an anfreqaented street, a drunkn man came reeling out of a low groggery allooing a baoohanalian song. She was on he opposite side of the narrow way, and laoing herself in a door way, she stood erfeotly still. The second danger passed, nd the drunken song died away, arnidBt he wind and the rain. Ab she came near the Penitentiary, the tin poured down in torrents, and the wind lew with B<ioht violence, that, at times, it as impossible to tafee a step forward.? fot a light was seen anywhere. She gropi her way along by the wall. She was mifVi rain Knf aha Moo nnf ICUtUUU If l?u DUU uiu | vwv BMW nua uw aid; she bad walked miles, bat she was I ot fatigued. Her trepidation was all gone, er heart beat With a regular, firm stroke; ot a nerve tfembled. Without encounterig any one, she reaohed thtft part of the nilding, in front-, to which she had been ireoted. - She felt her way to the window, o sentinel woe near it. He had taken lelter in the doorway some paoes off. She 1 in her hand alqng the tars; she felt the olt. Putting her hand into her pooket, >e drew forth a small bottle of hair oil.-rftth this she attempted to draw it baok. ; was heavy and resisted her efforts. Again >e oiled it, and collected all hey strength ir the exertiop?joy j it giveq way j . The sed is accomplished! It had made some rise, but it was lost amidst the noise of le storm. ' She had not turned from the'window, here it opened and a man sprang from it.?' ben she trembled 1 It might be H^neau dair, bat it m\?ht hr one qf |hn Yankee ildiers. He grasped her arm, and a sud3D half suppressed exclamation escaped m. She oaught his hand, for she had in ie broken exolamation, reooguized his 1 nee. Without speaking, she drew him a- ) .. it o .i ? tk. 1 ng toe wan. ooou mey na?o vu? ivau. uncan drew her arm within his, and oross- 1 g'the street, passed into the open fields ] ;yond. When quite sure that they w^r? ' ;yond the hearipgof the aontinela, Daooan < >oke ; j "Miss Trousdale, this is not what you ' omised me 1 How could you do it ? You ive killed yourself to save me! How ( iuld you do it V "Ohush!"-she replied, "I am so glad iu are free1" ' ~ . c "Rut you will die from this exposure." y "No danger! Rain hurts me no more 1 an it does a young goose, wbioh perhapl 1 in think ? am." ' "I think you are an angel.". . ?-- ? ?xvttirfWlmow the rain oan't hart me ] * it do hot speak now: we are coming into ' wd again." 1 "It was now near ;aid-nigbt. The vio ' nee of the storm had driven every one off 1 e street, except here and there a hardy f ntinel stood at bis post. These our fagi- ' res bad managed to avoid until turning a ' rner, they oamo so suddenly upon one inding under a gas-lamp,- that it was im- 1 issible to escape "his observation. They ' ;re passing him when he stopped them, 0 ,d said to Duncan: "Your pass, sir!" c "Ah yes," replied Duncan, and began ^ sling in his vest pooket. At length he t claimed in a tone of vexation : "Why, t lere is the plaguey thing ?" Then as if . ddenly recollecting himself, be tnrned to ^ inline, and said : "There now, Luoy, I t ft it in my other vest, which I pulled off ^ home this evening?what is to be done ^ w?" Here addressing himself to the t ntinel he said : "I have unfortunately rgotten my pass; but you see, sir, how I" ^ i bituated. My sister here, and I have c en spending the evening with a friend.? t ir mother is alone at home awaiting us. y sister is already very wet from the rain, ? d this situation is exposing her still more. )U cannot suppose that I am on any er- g ad or mischief; and a lady with me. Be jj kind,sir, as to let us-pass on out of this , in." The man hesitated. Duncan slipped a ? ;ce .of money into his hand, and passed m, saying; "I cannot stay here parley- ^ y." 3 The man looked after him, and said : "I j( ess it's all right." r( "Of oonreo," said Duncan in low voice to n iiBelf, "it's all right when you have the >ney." jj Winding along through out the way q tees, and amidst the tumbling down hou- jr i of the suburbs, they oame out, at last, u on the river bank. The rain had ceased ? isscs of broken cloud were rolling over* e, ad. After walking up and down the baok a) some time, and calling softly now and in, they came, at last, upon Uncle Ned. ^ "Marcy 'pon us, Miss Pauline 1 whar pi a bio gwine through ail this rain ? I E s shore you wus drowned and killed and ai ughtered, and dat being de exposition of gi fao, dis ole nigger was ready to'drown ol self,'cause you know consequently; dis. ft ;ger could never faoe ole massa no more." ai "Don't talk, uncle Ned," said Pauline, tc "until we get home. Some one may hear." j - They took their seat in the oanoe. All was silent. * The rowing proved to be more diffioult than when they came over, because ? ow thoV were going up stream, But Dun- i can caught up a paddle that lay in the hot- ! torn of the oanoe, and in a few mioutes, I the vessel was skimming like a petrel over the waves. When they were near their t place of landing, the moon burst through' I the clouds, aiid threw a flood of light over < the waters. They beard some one hail them i from the Southern bank. Tbey made no < answer. A gain, they heard the halloo, and i then a shot came whizzing past them. ] They were now on shore. Uoole Ned I did not stop to tie the canoe, but let it float down the current- *They hurried on, ] through the woods, over fenoes, nnregardful i of any obstacle that lay iu their way. Pauline took Duncan's arm, and healmoef bore her along, as they hastened onward ' Often be .whispered : "Are you not fatigued ?? i Are you not oold (" bat sbe always answer- i ed, ''Not at all-" . < For the.Yortrville Enquirer. 1 , EXTBACT ( From a Sermon preached in the Presbyte- < rian Church at Rbck BiU, York Die- 1 trict, S C., on Sabbath, March 13th, by Rev. Leander Kerr, Chaplain, C. S. C. < Furnished by request. ' i There is another class of men, to whom 1 I wish to pay my respeots before I have 1 done: a class peculiar to no country, but common to all, yet worthy of none. A class ] whom the ofroumstanoes and exigencies of 1 war call into existence and aotivity; who ' live, thrive and fatten, upon its misfortunes and calamities : who are found everywhere, 1 bat where they should be j and engaged in 1 /Irttnr* flwomfKinrt fhov nAf ? VIV*^g VfV?J?W?Hg ?UV^ UU^UH UU? W UUl ? They do nothing for oar gallant soldiers, nothing for the country, and nqtbing for the army, unless to follow it with the instinct . of the vulture, the wolf and the hyena, 1 that soents afai the field of- carnage and * death, and that only to roh the dead in safe- G ty and impunity, to strip the dying soldier ( of bis ooat and his blanket; and sell fhem J for What they will bring: and then return 1 to traffic in tho widow's tears, the orphan's a cries, and converts the blood of the soldier into gold or Confederate bonds. It is in c vain to expostulate, to reason, or to preaoh e to aqoh men \ for like E)phraim of old, they r Me joined to their idols and let alone -? ^ And -yet it is possible some such may be present here to day : though they seldom, a if ever, visit* the sanctuary of Qod; but in the temple of Mammon you can find them, 0 morning, noon and bight. Would you-ap- * peal to their honor T They have no honor. 8 Wo?id address their honesty? That, if ( they ever had it, is swept away by their oft c repealed acta of dishonesty and fraud.? 11 w Quia you souoit their humanity r They 8 long since add out their small stock of that, fojf a tri^iqg pecuniary consideration.? ^ ^o?ld you appeal to their patriotism ? They, P mow not the meaning of the term. Would ,b you address their religion ? Alas, - they 0 lave no religion, but that of idolatry and * :ovetousae?. They reoogoize no God, but J gold, and no Redeemer, hut Confederate b itooka aod bondsand not cme dollar of * ihese vill they ghre for their country's * sanse, unless they ere assured of their 300, r< )r 50Q per cent. ' ' There are times and circumstances, my ihristian friends and brethren, when the g riolstion of any, or of all the command- p Debts in the Decalogue are trivial iu com- * jarison to the conduct of these men.' The 'ormer, affect only individualsj bat the ? atter, communities, States and uftiupi \ the [orqjer are temporary and transient oonaid- J nationsthe latter are often unlimited and ? permanent: the former sends grief an^an- g] juish, sorrow and shame into a few families ^ ind limited localities; but the latter spreads t( lufforing, distress and mo through the . eogth and breadth of th6 most extended ^ State or nation. ' ^ Bat a meroiful Providenoe has ordained o] hat these men can neither live alwajs, nor ive long. They must die. This is well.; j iod when they die, they mast go to .their ^ >wn appointed place. And when they ^ afely reaoh their destination, as they most .! urely will* and this is better, then and ,! here forever thpy will be the scorn, coa- 1 eoapt, reproaoh and ridioale, and the suh- ?c eots of nnOeasing torture of .fiends sod ;.? levils, inferior to themselves in meanness, I1' urpitude and crime. And when their vile ** lodies'are conajgopd to the dost, no sweet lowers will bloom, no green grass grow on ?? heir unhallowed graves; bat the slimy ser- ? eat as be orawls over and aronnd'them rill hiss their shams, and its seorn. and ontempt for them ; and the hungry worms f hat riots in the potreaoenoe of the tomb, p} rill orawl away ia dif&tfBt and abhorrenoe ai rom such wrerches. q< Such, oh! traitor, tory, coward, extortion- j0 _ l.i -1_ i. !_ Jl 1_ 1 II r, speculator, ouem, swtuaier, roDuer, vu- je an, is your character; such will be yourla(j estioy aod doom; and snob the portion of pC oar sordid souls fo.ever. Go then, and ^ opo in it; hope on, and hope ever as best |0| ou can. Amen. * . at< .? . . ar S& The following information oonoerning ~tj jcalities and forces is from the army oor- ^ sspondent of the Bichmond .Dispatch, rittqn just before the battles ocmmenoed: "Ely's and Germania Fords are. on the ^ Lapidan Biver, the former 25 miles below gc range Court House and 15 miles above ^ redericksburg?the latter ford is equi-dis- ^ tnt from both Orange Court House and -Q redericksburg, being about 20 miles from af) ich. Grant's force is generally put down. ,<j; about'100,00Q infantry. It consists of eQ le 1st, 2d, 3d, 5th and Oth corps, which ave been consolidated into three corps, and laced under the command of Burnside, gr looker and Meade?in- Burneide's corps! co re 6;0QD negroes. From al^ that I can J lie ither, the Yankee army comes entirely in lot iedience to the behest of power, and have or< ttle hopes of soocess. \ Oar army is hopeful we id buoyant, and will no-doabtadd another ntf i their many and well earned victories." ' thi 4 . * * * * 40 [nterment of the Eemains of General M. Jenkins. - * The remains o?the lamented Gen. M Jenkins were interred Scmcbiy aftfcrnopo it Snmmerville, in the graveyard of the Episcopal Cbaroh, at that place, alongside the resting place of bis mother. The body arrived at Sammervilleet quarter past three o'clock, andtfr an escort of State Cadets from'the Arsenal Academy .at Colombia. The coffin, with the Confederate flag -spread over it, was placed npon a Barrage, and a procession formed -of ail the inhabitants of th* village, and thy convalescent soldiers in the hospital, that were able to atterfd. . Before |h| procession began to move the If dies in village brought in beautiful wreAths and rrn'oeroua boqueta of flowers and strewed them in profaeion upon the coffin. * The remains weir** followed' to the grave by several members of the family, inolud iog the deceased widow, his father;io-l?|&^jgy General D. F. Jamison, and bis two broth- ? bis, Major J. Jenkins and Dr Jenkins. Upon the arrival of the remains at tfre village, and daring the passing ofthe'pro . cession, the oharoh bellfl were tolled, and Bvery expression of grief and sympathy ex^ v ? hibited by the villagers. ? The ladies present at the interment bedecked the grave with flanpnifgave ~"9 rent to their heartfelt sorrow in the'tears whioh were freely sbed^orer the mortal re-~\ mains of the departed hero. * . * . ; Goo. Jenkios was a member of the Episoopal Church at Sammerville, and' pa? look of the holy saoramenfr bat ajFew weeks* before taking bis departure^ for. Virginia. SVhen taking leave of his friends* he romarked that he was then going to figftihii ast battle.*? Charleston Courier, Vlth. I , Points of Intereat* . ? Looking at the map, (saya the Maoou Confederate,') we*find the late battle h Virginia in Spotteylsanffc' county, forty^ ire miles north of northwest of Riohmond, lixty miles sooth of south west of \Vasbiog on. Gen. Grapt is, thera/ore,fifteen.miles . learer Richmond than Gen. Lee is of Wash ogton. The Richmond, Federiekeborg nd Potomac Reihrosfl runs through the iBfltern end.ofthat county. The renowned ity of Frederiobsbtt(gifl in the northeastoru nd of the. conircy on the Rappahannock iver. The battle was fought ifteen miles ' rom that oity. Chesterfield is that connty immediafely .oross 'the river from Riohmond. Chester Court-House is about thirteen ailes from Riohmond, on a direot line ? "etersburg is thirteen miles still fiirtbef; oath, and is about half that distance frbm Tity Point where the enemy recently Ian ' led. Fort Drewry is on the J^mes, a few. ailes from Richmondj and b the main work ~ ;aardiog the water approaches to the city nu ill- t - lit.* -ft? -lO!L ? vucucjr viHOj ju??i piauc vruigu uur Drees are reported to have^ooodpied, is a. oiat of great importance. It iron tbfrrigbt aok of Bayou Rapides, the principalsonroQ f the Teoho, about jiine milee from Rod liver, and oo the direct road to Opelousas rom Alexandria, with Which it is connected y a railroad' eobn twenty two miles loog. t gives us command of the Jin* of the tapides, and effectually cuts off the enemy's etreat southward. FBOM THE Georgia FfiONtf?^be rand est game of strategy ig now being layed among the hills.gnd valines of Nyr- . hern Georgia that ever rested.on the cheseoard of a campaign. Seventy thousand len aVe droppirfg s!owly bac\, foot "by foot, efore a force whose estimate is a third f O^gigantio soaie, and yet see uot ona 'ord to dishearten?not one thought which hows the"spirit of that noble army unequa ) the -liual task before it. Odr men seem ) feel tbat they arc not retreating to escape, n? ?n - - ? ' nf * "? fcw Ugub* Aug UiUUiUlJ v? [isaionary Ridge is to be avenged j the deiat that has caused many a sun-browned aeek to flush with shame, is to be wiped at, and these soldiers know that every foot ' rugged soil the eneiny - places betweenr*^ impelf and Chattanooga?every day that a protracts his maroh?every pcnD-1 that minisbes his stores of subsistence? draws m into their toils, and will add to the impletsness of their revenge. - "We look r no disaster. Oh- the eontrary^we b* ave that the vicinity of the Etowab ^rVer destined to beoome historic ampag tLcr using soeu'ea of this war, and that Thctrw . id bis proud hordes wtll4)e the last iuvt? irs who will press their fetf-oh the Soil 'of e Empire State?South Carolinian. 109* Acoorditfg to the Loudon Ifornitiy 'oat the Confederate loan is about to bb coed on a new basis. A oombuje<LFreocb id English undertaking, in which the Dnfederate Government takes aq active terest, is in formation, having for its 6b ot to organize a regular system of blocs le Tanning from the various Confederate irts for the export of cotton. The capita! ?500,000, in shares which are to be at tted only to the holders of the Confedere bonds, who, at the time of application;, a to register their names.. The conipuD> samers are totakeout-Cttgoea to supply-, e wants of the Confederate Government is estimated that the whole of the bond the cotton loan may be exchanged for* tton, and the produce exported *Iro? utbero ports -wfthin twelve months.? >e promoters of this company are state a be gentlemen of oapitel, and Jong yersed blockade running. The fastest steamers J to be employed ; but, in order to rejce rffik, a ye^r largeoargo "will net trusted Hrxuf oiio vessel ' / MT A photographic copy of the Dabl- , en : papers has teen sent mmand of President Dayb, ?&h1wstrucms to forward it to Gen. Meade with a ter from himself -inquiring whether the lers and plate fooikl on Colonel Dahlgren re authorized "by himself or hifr Govern int. - No answer has yet henrvade to is communication. ".~o"