"Never!" cried Duncan, "never! There would be more, many more, to mourn
your loss than mine. Who would shed a tear for me but Aunt Wealthy? Dear
old soul, it would be hard for her, I know; but she'd soon follow me."
"Yes, you are her all; but there's a large family of us, and I could
easily be spared."
Duncan shook his head. "Was your brother who fell at Ball's Bluff easily
spared? But hark! what was that?" He bent his ear to the ground. "The
distant bay of hounds! We must push on!" he cried, starting up in haste.
"Bloodhounds on our track? Horrible!" exclaimed Harold, also starting to
his feet, weakness and fatigue forgotten for the moment, in the terror
inspired by that thought.
Duncan again gave him the support of his arm, and for the next half-hour
they pressed on quite rapidly; yet their pursuers were gaining on them,
for the bay of the hounds, though still distant, could now be distinctly
heard, and Allison's strength again gave away.
"I--can--go no farther, Duncan," he said, pantingly; "let me climb up yon
tall oak and conceal myself among the branches, while you hurry on."
"No, no, they would discover you directly, and it would be surrender or
die. Ah, see! there's a little log cabin behind those bushes, and who
knows but we may find help there.
Pages:
286
287
288
289
290
291
292
293
294
295
296
297
298
299
300
301
302
303
304
305
306
307
308
309
310