“Who comes there?”
Rodney did not hear the reply, and the challenged parties were concealed from his sight by trees and bushes; but he knew they were Federal troopers when he heard the sentry continue:
“Halt! Dismount! Advance one friend and give an account of yourself.” Then he waved his hand toward the house as a signal for some officer to come out and receive the report.
The lieutenant answered the signal and Rodney went with him; and when he reached the bars whom should he see standing in the road talking to the sentry but the corporal of the —th Michigan cavalry, who seemed to have a way of turning up most opportunely. He shook hands with Rodney, and told the lieutenant that he had been sent out with a few men to see if he could learn anything about Colonel Grierson, who ought to have been safe in Baton Rouge two or three days ago.
“Judging by their looks, and the way they eat and trade mules, these are some of Grierson’s men,” said Rodney.
The lieutenant corroborated the statement, and said that the reason they had been so long delayed was because they were obliged to pass through miles of bottom land where the water was almost swimming deep. The colonel was but a short distance in the rear, and might be expected to come along any moment. Then he plied the corporal with questions as to what Grant and Porter were doing at Vicksburg, and it was not until his patience was well-nigh exhausted that Rodney saw opportunity to say a word for himself. The instant there was a pause in the conversation he broke in with:
“Now, corporal, be kind enough to tell the lieutenant how I stand with the provost marshal.”
“All right in every spot and place,” replied the soldier quickly. “What’s the matter? Have these raiders been stealing something?”
“Oh, I don’t mind the little grub they ate, or the mules they took in exchange for their crow-baits,” answered Rodney. “They’re welcome to everything on the place if they will only leave my cousin with me. Is my word good when I say that I will be responsible for his safe keeping?”
“Your word is always good,” said the corporal, who was much astonished. “But how came your cousin back here? I thought he went to New Orleans to ship on a cotton boat.”