She brought out a large piece of bacon. "My ole man's gone down to Worrick to-day," she said, "an' won't be back tell night; an' you soldiers, a-leavin' the country all at oncet, hit makes me feel kinder skittish."
"Yes," said I; "I don't wonder at your alarm, for they say the Yankees are coming. I don't suppose they will be here before to-morrow, though--maybe not till the day after."
"Them other men said they was the last to go," she replied; "but I reckin they didn't know you was a-comin' on behind 'em."
"No," said I; "if they had known I was coming, they wouldn't have run off and left me so; I might have ridden behind one of them. I don't suppose I can overtake them now, unless they stop again."
"That you can't," said she; "they won't have no call to stop tell they git to the camp, an' hit's jest this side of the mill."
"How far is it to Lee's Mill?" I asked,
She looked at me suspiciously, and I feared that I had made a mistake.
"Hit's not fur," she replied; "hain't you never been thar?"
"Not by this road," I answered. "How much shall I pay you?"
"Well, Mister, I don't know; set your own price."