ntroduce
my reader to Cornwallis.

He had resolved to move forward on his campaign. Orders were issued to
prepare for the march, and the general had announced his determination
to review the troops before they broke ground. A beautiful, bright, and
cool autumnal morning shone upon the wide plain, where an army of
between two and three thousand men was drawn out in line. The tents of
the recent encampment had already been struck, and a long array of
baggage-wagons were now upon the high-road, slowly moving to a point
assigned them in the route of the march. Cornwallis, attended by a score
of officers, still occupied a small farm-house which had lately been his
quarters. A number of saddle-horses in the charge of their grooms, and
fully equipped for service, were to be seen in the neighborhood of the
door; and the principal apartment of the house showed that some of the
loiterers of the company were yet engaged in despatching the morning
meal. The aides-de-camp were seen speeding between the army and the
general, with that important and neck-endangering haste which
characterizes the tribe of these functionaries; and almost momentarily a
courier arrived, bearing some message of interest to the
commander-in-chief.

Cornwallis himself sat in an inner room, busily engaged with one of his
principal officers in inspecting some documents regarding the detail of
his force. Apart from them, stood, with hat in hand and in humble
silence, a young ensign of infantry.

"Your name, sir?" said Cornwallis, as he threw aside the papers which he
had been perusing, and now addressed himself to the young officer.

"Ensign Talbot, of the thirty-third Foot," replied the young man: "I
have come by the order of the adjutant-general to inform your lordship
that I have just returned to my regiment, having lately been captured by
the enemy while marching with the third convoy of the Camden prisoners
to Charleston."

"Ha! you were of that party! What was the number of prisoners you had in
charge?"

"One hundred and fifty, so please your lordship."

"They were captured"--

"On Santee, by the rebels Marion and Horry," interrupted the ensign. "I
have been in the custody of the rebels for a week, but contrived, a few
days since, to make my escape."

"Where found the rebels men to master you?"

"Even from the country through which we journeyed," replied the ensign.

"The beggarly runagates! Who can blame us, Major M'Arthur," said the
gener