"Yes!"
"Then, captain," he said, turning to me, "it is so."
There was a moment of dreary silence.
"How long were they passing Mr. Ashby's?" I asked.
"Three hours."
"Which way were they going?"
"Toward Paris."
"How far is it from Caledonia to Paris?"
"Twelve miles."
I knew that three thousand was a reasonable estimate. I also knew they must have heard of our whereabout, and that a party might be coming up the road at any moment; yet I ventured one more question: