“Advance, friends, but be careful how you take them guns from your shoulders,” was the next order; and when Marcy drew nearer and saw that the speaker wore the yellow chevrons of a corporal of cavalry on his arms, his joy knew no bounds. When he and Bowen had been relieved of their muskets and cartridge-boxes the corporal inquired:
“Where are the rest of you?”
“There are no more of us,” answered Marcy. “We are alone.”
“Mebbe you are and mebbe you aint,” said the corporal. “Jones, you take ’em down to the captain and hurry back as quick as you can, for we may need you here.”
The corporal was suspicious and in bad humor about something, and so was the captain when they found him. He had been riding hard all day, and had halted in the woods to give his jaded men and horses an hour or two of rest. He knew that he had been led into a trap by false information, and by a treacherous guide who managed to escape amid a shower of bullets that was rained upon him as soon as his treachery was discovered; and while his men slept the captain rolled restlessly about on the ground, trying to think up some plan by which he could save his small command from falling into the hands of the Confederates, who were making every effort to cut him off from Grierson’s column. He had been assured that the way to Enterprise was clear, and that if he went in any other direction he would have to fight his way through, and now came these two escaped conscripts with a different story. It was little wonder that Captain Forbes did not put much faith in what they had to say, or that he spoke sharply when he addressed them.
“How do you know that the Confederate troops you say you saw along the road were striking for Enterprise?” he inquired.
“Because the negroes told us so, and during our journey we have always found that the negroes told us the truth,” answered Marcy, who did most of the talking.
“And you say you have come from Millen?”
“Yes, sir. We were on post there when we escaped.”
“Do you know where Millen is?”