“At last!” said Marcus, eagerly, as the ponies’ heads were turned; and before they had gone many hundred yards they had the satisfaction of seeing the trees open out and the sky look lighter.
Lupe sprang on in front and disappeared, but at the end of a few minutes they came upon him again, standing gazing straight before him, motionless, while as the ponies reached him, they too stopped short.
“What does that mean?” whispered the old soldier. “Has he seen anything to scare him?”
Serge had hardly spoken when from somewhere in front there came the distant whinnying of a horse.
“From the army!” cried Marcus, excitedly. But Serge clapped his hand upon the boy’s lips.
“Our army is not there,” he said, in a hoarse whisper, and the driver gave a quick snatch at the reins, just as one of the ponies stretched out its neck to answer the challenge.
“Good!” said Serge, sharply. “Now then, back.”
“Turn back,” said Marcus, “now we are so near?”
“Yes, boy, and try to get round to the camp another way.”
“You think the enemy are near?” whispered Marcus.