“Dunwoodie! the major was on the crupper of the Dutchman.”
“Ah! but he managed to get off the crupper of the Dutchman. He came in, at half speed, with the other two troops, and riding between us and the enemy, with that imperative way he has when roused, brought us in line in the twinkling of an eye. Then it was,” added the lieutenant, with animation, “that we sent John Bull to the bushes. Oh! it was a sweet charge—heads and tails, until we were upon them.”
“The devil! What a sight I missed!”
“You slept through it all.”
“Yes,” returned the other, with a sigh; “it was all lost to me and poor George Singleton. But, Tom, what will George’s sister say to this fair-haired maiden, in yonder white building?”
“Hang herself in her garters,” said the subaltern. “I owe a proper respect to my superiors, but two such angels are more than justly falls to the share of one man, unless he be a Turk or a Hindoo.”
“Yes, yes,” said the captain, quickly, “the major is ever preaching morality to the youngsters, but he is a sly fellow in the main. Do you observe how fond he is of the cross roads above this valley? Now, if I were to halt the troops twice in the same place, you would all swear there was a petticoat in the wind.”
“You are well known to the corps.”
“Well, Tom, a slanderous propensity is incurable—but,” stretching forward his body in the direction he was gazing, as if to aid him in distinguishing objects through the darkness, “what animal is moving through the field on our right?”
“’Tis a man,” said Mason, looking intently at the suspicious object.