I think her the more dangerous of _the two_."
"And I agree with you."
"When did you see Darke, last?"
"I have not met him for three months."
"He can not be dead?"
"He may be wounded."
"And Mohun--is he at his head-quarters?"
Nighthawk smiled.
"He is at Five Forks, to-day, colonel."
"And Willie Davenant?"
"In Richmond, on business at the war department."
"Humph! So I shall see neither--but another time."
And mounting my horse, I added:--
"Good luck, Nighthawk."
"Thank you, colonel--the same to you."
And leaving Nighthawk crouching down beside his fire, I rode on.
XIII.
DRINKING TEA UNDER DIFFICULTIES.
Pushing on, I reached the cavalry and horse artillery, which I was soon
done with--you see I dismiss "official" matters with commendable
rapidity, reader--then I went on across Roney's bridge and along the
"Flat Foot road" toward Disaways.
Following, amid a great wind and falling boughs, this winding road,
stretching onward between its lofty walls of pines--a wild and deserted
track, outside of the pickets, and completely untravelled. I recrossed
Stony Creek, rode on over a bridle-path, and came just at sunset in
sight of the hill upon which Disaways raised its ancient gables, near
the Rowanty.
My horse neighed as he cantered up, and passed under the great oaks.
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