The horses belonging to the rebels, which were found fastened in front of the house, were immediately turned loose, and a thrust from the captain's bayonet sent them galloping up the road.
George silently led the way to the place where they had left their prisoner, and, as soon as he was set at liberty, they bent their steps across the plantation, toward the woods at the rear.

Although George had borne up bravely while in the presence of his rebel parents, he could control himself no longer, and tears, which he could not repress, coursed down his cheeks, as ever and anon he turned to take a long, lingering look at the place he could no longer call home.

Every emotion he experienced found an echo in the generous heart of Frank, who was scarcely less affected than himself.

He could not believe that the scene through which they had just passed was a reality.

It did not seem possible that parents could address a son in the language that he had heard used toward George.
The unexpected denouement at the house had rendered the major and captain doubly anxious; for now nothing but the most consummate skill and daring could save them from recapture; and, while the former kept close watch on the house to catch the first sign of pursuit that should be made, the latter gave vent to his feelings by railing, in his broken English, first at George for proposing such an expedition, and then by deprecating his own folly for yielding his consent to it.