"Spring into the saddles of those fresh horses—ride for your lives—quick!"
It was accomplished in an instant. The approaching party were now only a few yards from the devoted band, when a shot was fired, and with a groan Captain Hayward fell to the ground. In an instant, Adjutant Hinton was by his side.
"Captain—O God!—captain-speak!" he cried. "Are you hurt?"
"Here—these papers—take them—go—go—save yourself!"
"Never—never!" he cried. "Come on, ye fiends—I will sell my life dearly—I will die with my captain!"
"No—no! Alibamo—save her—those papers—go, I command—I am mortally hurt—save yourselves—you cannot benefit me!"
"You may live!"
"Then go, and return to rescue me—oh!" And Hayward spoke no more.
"Or to avenge your death!" cried Hinton, as he sprang into his saddle and darted from the spot, amid a shower of bullets, bearing the papers with him.
In an instant Hayward was surrounded, but they could not overtake the flying party, who had the advantage of fresh horses.