"No."
"How far is it to St. Cloud?"
"Six miles."
"Are there fresh horses and men there?"
"Oh, plenty."
"If you dig us out here, how long will it be before we go in again?"
This they did not know.
"Then had not the driver better go to St. Cloud with both horses? The horse left here would be ruined standing in that slush."
"But, madam," said the agent, "if we do that we will have to leave you here all night."
"Well," I said, "I do not see how you are going to get rid of me."
So the driver started with the two horses on that dreadful journey; had I known how dreadful, I should have tried to keep him till morning. As he left, I made the Germans draw off their boots and pour out the water, rub their chilled feet and roll them up in a buffalo robe. The agent lay on his box, I cuddled in a corner, and we all went to sleep to the music of the patter of the soft rain on our canvas cover. At sunrise we were waked by a little army of men and horses and another schooner, into which we passed by bridge. We reached St. Cloud in time for breakfast, and were greeted by the news that General Lowrie had been sent home insane. He was confined in his own house, and his much envied young wife, with her two babies, had become an object of pity.