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Cooke, John Esten, 1830-1886

"Mohun, or, the Last Days of Lee"

Then seeing Tom rise quickly--to
get his horse ready, he said--I requested him to have my own resaddled,
and returned to the table.
I had just raised the cup of tea to my lips, amid warnings from the
family, to take care or I would be captured, when a cavalryman galloped
up the hill, and stopped in front of the door.
"Look out, the Yankees are coming!" he cried.
I glanced through the window, and recognized a man of Mohun's command,
who also recognized me.
"How near are they?" I said, attempting to swallow the burning tea.
"Not a quarter of a mile off, colonel!"
"That will give me time," I said.
And I applied myself again to the tea, which this time I poured out
into the saucer, in order to cool it.
"Look out, colonel!" cried the man.
"Where are they?"
"At the gate."
I finished the tea, and the goblet of cream just as the man
shouted:--
"Here they are, right on you, colonel!"
And I heard the sound of a galloping horse, accompanied by shots at the
retreating cavalryman.
I went quickly to the window. A column of Federal cavalry was rapidly
ascending the hill. By the last beams of day I recognized Darke at the
head of the column; and by his side rode Mr. Alibi. I thought I could
see that Darke was thin and very pale, but was not certain.


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