By paying a few dollars extra, talking politely, and pretending that I was not in the best of health—although I eat an astonishing supper for an invalid—I succeeded in securing a small room to myself, to which I retired immediately after supper; and having carefully fastened the door, I lay down on a clean bed and slept comfortably till the morning.
CHAPTER XII.
How Smith traveled A-Foot—and More.
WHEN morning came, I tried for an hour to get a conveyance to Sharpsburg, near Antietam Creek, twelve miles distant; but in vain. Not a horse or carriage of any kind was to be had for love or money; and I made up my mind to walk it, although I had never yet walked any such distance on one leg. When a man makes up his mind to do a thing, however, he will do it, if he has firmness, no matter whether he has any limbs or not.
At eight o’clock, I went to the office of the provost-marshal to get a pass over the bridge—for it will be recollected that the village of Harper’s Ferry is on the Virginia side—but he had not come in yet. Wishing to start as soon as possible, I thought I would try to face my way over. So, I went to the bridge, bade the sentinel a cheerful good-morning, and was moving on, when he said:
“Have you a pass?”
“No,” I replied, stopping. “I am not in the service. Is a pass necessary?”
“No,” said he, after a slight pause. “Your crutch is pass enough. I suppose you got that in the Army?”
“Yes,” I replied, “at Antietam. I am going up there to-day to see the old ground.”
“How are you going?”
“I’m going to walk.”