CHAPTER XXVII.
THE HUNTED SOLDIER.
The sun was just rising, and his red beams gilded the summits of the Alleghany Mountains, which in the glory of the early morning seemed as calm and peaceful as if their lofty heights had never looked down upon scenes of c*****e and strife, or their tangled passes and dark ravines sheltered poor, starving, frightened wretches, fleeing for their lives, and braving death in any form rather than be recaptured by their merciless pursuers. There were several of these miserable men hiding in the mountain passes now, prisoners escaped from Salisbury and other points, but our story now has to do with but one, and that a young man, with a look of determination in his eye, and the courage of a Samson in his heart. He had suffered incredible hardships since the da
