“What a blasted bit of bad luck!” exclaimed the ferryman.
“Yes; and that is not all. Goldsborough—well, he’s not the first great soldier that ever lost the world for a woman—Goldsborough, instigated by the demon, made a dash across the river below the Point of Rocks and surprised a picnic party for no other purpose than to carry off a certain girl.”
“What a blamed fool—begging your pardon, Captain!”
“Yes, he was all that. And, the result of all this is that there are no less than three companies of cavalry out in search of us in different directions. The chances are that Miller will meet with some of them.”
As Captain Bannister spoke the boat grated upon the sands of the shore, and the party prepared to land.
The captain walked his horse out first, and was followed by the others of the party in the same manner.
Leaving the ferryman to go back after the remainder of the band, Captain Bannister led his party by a steep, narrow and winding path up the mountain side, passing many picket guards, by whom they were challenged, and to whom he gave the countersign.
As they reached the summit, the moon, large, round, and red as a ball of fire, was rising behind a dark, green cedar wood in the valley before them.
“There are the head quarters of Major Monck,” said the captain to his prisoner, pointing down into the thickly wooded valley.
He then led the way down this side of the mountain by a path as steep, narrow and winding as that by which they had ascended on the other side, and they met as many pickets as before.