“Aye, and that in double-quick time,” cried the colonel, making the other leg follow its companion. “Then it was necessary to rout the guides, you know, and the movement gave them the best possible opportunity to charge.”
“Yes,” said the other, sending the second slipper after the first, “and this Major Dunwoodie never overlooks an advantage.”
“I think if we had the thing to do over again,” continued the colonel, raising himself on his feet, “we might alter the case very materially, though the chief thing the rebels have now to boast of is my capture; they were repulsed, you saw, in their attempt to drive us from the wood.”
“At least they would have been, had they made an attack,” said the captain, throwing the rest of his clothes within reach of the colonel.
“Why, that is the same thing,” returned Wellmere, beginning to dress himself. “To assume such an attitude as to intimidate your enemy, is the chief art of war.”
“Doubtless, then, you may remember in one of their charges they were completely routed.”
“True—true,” cried the colonel, with animation. “Had I been there to have improved that advantage, we might have turned the table on the Yankees”; saying which he displayed still greater animation in completing his toilet; and he was soon prepared to make his appearance, fully restored to his own good opinion, and fairly persuaded that his capture was owing to casualties absolutely beyond the control of man.
The knowledge that Colonel Wellmere was to be a guest at the table in no degree diminished the preparations which were already making for the banquet; and Sarah, after receiving the compliments of the gentleman, and making many kind inquiries after the state of his wounds, proceeded in person to lend her counsel and taste to one of those labored entertainments, which, at that day, were so frequent in country life, and which are not entirely banished from our domestic economy at the present moment.
CHAPTER XIII.
I will stand to and feed,
Although my last.