He forgot the danger of his situation, and listened to the conversation of the old negro and his wife, as though there was not a rebel within a hundred miles of him.
"There," he exclaimed, after he had finished the last piece of corn-bread, and pushed his chair back from the table, "I believe I've eaten supper enough to satisfy any two men living." "Has yer had enough, chile ?" asked the old woman.

"I's glad to see yer eat.

I wants to do all I can for you Yankee sogers." "Oh, I've had a great plenty, aunty," answered Frank, as he rose from the table.

"Now, I must bid you good-by," he continued, as he pulled his rifle out from its hiding-place.

"I shall never be able to repay you; but"-- "Lor' A'mighty, chile!" interrupted the old woman, "whar's you gwine?
You mustn't say one word 'bout gwine out o' dis house _dis_ night.
I's got a bed all fixed for you, an' Pomp will take you up early in de mornin', an' show you de way fru de swamp." "Put away dat gun, young massa," chimed in Pomp; "dere's no danger." Frank could not resist this appeal, for the bed, which the old woman had made for him in one corner of the cabin, rough as it was, was a pleasant sight to his eyes.