Yes, out of my wretchedness I came suddenly to that knowledge. The eyes that had followed me had given the lie to the eyes that accused me. There was a mystery still, but—at this point Paton broke in upon my thoughts.
“Major, rouse yourself!” he cried in my ear. “Come, you’ve cheated the Jews and bilked the sponging house, and you’re as mum as one of these confounded trimmers who are neither on one side nor the other! Cheer up! Your heart will be whole as soon as your arm,
Though now they are moaning on ilka green loaning
The flowers of the Forest are all wede away!
There I’ll say no more! But you’ve never asked how we came to find you? It was due to me, my lad, due to me! One of Ferguson’s men came in a week ago. He’d been hiding by day and walking by night. He heard from some loyalists—few enough in this part!—who sheltered him, that there was a wounded officer lying at a plantation not far from King’s Mountain. Greene had let us know you were alive—quite a courteous message it was—and putting two and two together with the help of a man who knew the district we fixed upon the place where we found you. But we did not say a word—far too much has crept out lately. I saw Tarleton and he consented to push ten miles up Fishing Creek, and to lie there thirty hours. He gave me Carroll and twenty men, but—in your ear, Major—Carroll’s too much given to burning and harrying for my taste, and I insisted on having Haybittle as well, who’s a good fellow, though not thorough-bred. And here we are!”
“How’s my lord?” I asked, forcing myself—it was no small effort—to take an interest in things.
“He has gone down the country for his health for ten days; he has left my other lord in charge.”
“Rawdon?”
“The same—and gallant old Webster to nurse him. Poor Ferguson’s death has set us back damnably. You left us at Charlotte—Gates was then at Hillsborough a long way north. Now we’re back at Winnsboro’ and Greene, in Gates’s place, and worth six of him, the devil take him! is at Charlotte. Sumter is out on the Broad, west of us, and Davy is across the Catawba east of us, and it was no small feat, Major, to slip in between them; they’re no fools at the business. And we’re not out of the trap yet. However, if you can ride through the night in spite of your bad arm, we shall be with Tarleton by daybreak. He’s lying, as I said, on Fishing Creek where he defeated Sumter a couple of months ago, but he has a party out watching the fords of the Catawba and Davy will be clever if he surprises him.”
“Where’s Marion?” I asked. My curiosity was natural.