Morgan started. He turned his straight, intelligent face full round and looked at his rider. A smile, quick and magnetic, met his dark, prominent eye. Then a light flooded his horse mind. No wonder he loved this officer! Had he not won him for Mistress Lloyd so long ago? He remembered all now. From the tip of his tail to his fine, sharp ears he quivered with happiness. Maybe after a life-time of waiting he would see her again!
Overhead the sky was cloudless, but suddenly across its face came sweeping into view, over-shadowing the woods for a moment, a dense flock of wild pigeons. The Captain leaned forward and patted Morgan’s neck.
“Just pigeons, old man! Is that why you shivered? Or is there something you want to say?”
But Morgan could not answer in words, he could only hope and serve. He did wish, however, that Captain Dulaney would not call him “old”! He had years of usefulness before him yet!
“I wish my sweet wife were here now to enjoy this view with us!”
Morgan replied with a toss of his head.
“But she is coming!”
Morgan whinneyed, softly, and trembled all over.
“God bless her!” went on the Captain, his blue eyes deepening to a light, wholly tender, “She would scarce consent to my coming up here without her. She argued with me, the witch, that Mistress Washington had passed the winter at Valley Forge, and she did not love her General any more than my wife loved her Captain! It was a clinching argument, Morgan, my friend, and I had to promise that she should come when all was ready—and there she is waiting in Boston until I send for her.”
Morgan tossed his head, and his tail waved slightly.