Mordaunt was the same stately soldier--his grave and
friendly voice greeted me warmly as in old days; and Willie Davenant,
now a major, commanding a battalion of horse artillery, shook hands
with me, as shy and blushing as before--and even more sad.
"How had his suit prospered? Were things more encouraging?"
I asked him these questions with a laugh, apologizing for my intrusion.
He assured me sadly that it was not in the least an intrusion; but that
he had not seen the person to whom I alluded, for many months.
And executing a blush which would have become a girl, this young tiger
of the horse artillery--for such he always proved himself, in a
fight--hastened to change the subject. Soon afterward I took my
departure, turned my horse's head toward Petersburg, and set out at a
round trot between the walls of pine.
It was dusk when I reached the debouchment of the "military road," and,
tired and hungry, I was contemplating ruefully the long ride still
before me, when rapid hoof-strokes behind me attracted my attention,
and, turning my head, I recognized the bold figure of Mohun.
He was mounted on a fine animal, and came at full speed.
In a moment he had caught up, recognized, and we exchanged a warm grasp
of the hand.
"I am delighted to see you, Surry.
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