“Fall behind, my boy! If we are to have the honor of meeting Major Monck, or any of his men, I would prefer to be ‘to the fore’ to welcome them.
The young orderly obeyed promptly, though unwillingly enough, for he would have preferred to make of his own person a shield and breastplate to guard his colonel’s precious life.
“I say, Wing,” whispered young Hay, as once more they rode nearly side by side, “this is a demon of a dark road to meet the guerrillas in!”
“So it is,” admitted Wing.
“How far are we from W. now?”
“About twenty-two miles.”
“When does the moon rise, do you know?”
“About nine o’clock.”
“And it is not more than seven now. And we have two hours of black darkness before us.”
“Oh, we shall get into W. by the time the moon rises.”