xperience and use to these
duble-dealings and dodgings that the war puts us to; whereupon, you
mought fall to talking when it was best to be silent, and, in case of
our meeting a body, to be letting out somewhat too much, which is a
thing that discommodes in war more than you would believe. And besides
this, Master Henry, there might be, mayhap, a scrimmage, a chase, and
what not--in which consideration you would be only in my way, seeing
that I should be obliged to be thinking of you when all my wits would be
wanting for myself. No, no; upon no account is it reasonable that you
should be along. It is your business to sarve as a body-guard to our
young lady, who, I say, may God bless and take care of in this world and
the next! And so, Mister Henry, you have my orders to stick to your
post."

"Well, sergeant," replied Henry, "I must obey orders, and if you command
me to stay behind, why I cannot choose about it. But, sergeant, let me
give you a word of advice. Ride cautiously--keep your eyes to the right
and left, as well as straight before you--and don't let them catch you
napping."

"You studied that speech, Mr. Henry!" said Horse Shoe, laughing. "To
hear you, one mought almost think you had shaved a beard from your chin
before this. Look out, or your hair will turn grey from too hard
thinking! and now, my long-headed fellow-soldier, good bye t'ye!"

"You are not going without your rifle, Mr. Horse Shoe?" said Henry,
calling out to the sergeant, who had already trotted off some twenty
paces.

"That's another consarn for you to ruminate over," replied Horse Shoe,
in the same jocular mood. "Mine is a business of legs, not arms,
to-day."

The sergeant was immediately after this upon the highway, moving forward
with nothing, seemingly, to employ him but cheerful thoughts.

After riding for an hour upon the road that led towards Camden, he was
enabled to collect from the country people a rumor that some detachments
of horse were, at this time, traversing the country towards Pedee, but
whether friends or enemies was not known to his informants. In following
up this trail of common report, his vigilance quickened by the
uncertainty of the tidings, he arrived about mid-day at a brook which,
running between low but sharp hills, was crossed by the road at a point
where a bold mass of rock, some twenty feet in height, jutted down with
a perpendicular abruptness into the water. Here, as he stopped to survey
the narrow and