He
seemed to feel that this was something like home to him now, and that
his day's march was over. In fact, all the months of winter I had
regularly stopped at Disaways on my way to the cavalry at Hicksford. My
friends had pathetically remonstrated--"there was not a single picket
on the Rowanty in front of me, there, and I would certainly be captured
some day,"--but I had persisted in stopping there still, on every tour
which I made. How to resist the temptation! Disaways was just thirty
miles from Petersburg. I always reached its vicinity as night fell, on
the dark winter days. I was always cold, hungry, weary, depressed by
the dull gray skies; and I knew what awaited me there--a blazing fire,
a good supper, and Katy's smiles brighter than sunshine! She always ran
to greet me, with both hands extended. Her blue eyes danced with joy,
her rosy cheeks glowed, her lips laughed, and were like carnations, her
golden ringlets fell in a shower over her white and delicate temples,
or were blown back in ripples by the wintry wind.
Could you have resisted that, my dear reader? Would you have shrunk
from Yankee scouting parties? For my part I thought I would risk it. I
might be surprised and captured at any moment--the territory was open
to the enemy--but I would have had a charming evening, would have been
cheered by Katy's sunshine--while I was alive and free, I would have
lived, and in a manner the most delightful!
Hitherto some angel had watched over me, and Disaways had been
unvisited by the enemy's scouting parties, without so much as a vedette
at the Halifax bridge, within half a mile.
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