The Major's cool, matter-of-fact way of disposing of the matter, made me ashamed of my excitement and petulance. I felt the more chagrined at the display of my feelings, because Hatcher and Spencer had exhibited so much more coolness and self-restraint, and I determined that thereafter I should act with more discretion. So, hiding my impatience as best I could, I dismounted and followed my companions into the house. We found the family asleep, but a good fire burning on the capacious hearth was a welcome sight to the drenched and shivering troopers.
The noisy summons of the Major aroused the sleeping inmates. When they found who we were that visited them at such an hour, they extended to us a hearty welcome. Fresh wood was piled upon the fire, around which we gathered in a steaming semicircle. The Major took our host aside. A few brief questions were asked and answered.
"It's all right," he said as he joined us. "The whelps have been around, but left yesterday. I reckon we'll stop awhile, get a bite to eat, and then shove on to Widow H——'s."
It was yet two hours or more to daylight, and our friends could not be blamed if they preferred their present comfortable quarters before the fire, to muddy roads, darkness, and pelting rain. As for myself and two companions, we were the very pictures of suppressed impatience. When our hospitable host passed around some food and home-made coffee, we were far too excited to partake. The sight of Major McCreary and his men, coolly stowing away the bread and coffee, fairly made me grate my teeth with impatience.
At length the Major, taking pity upon us, rather than following his own better judgment, as I am firmly convinced, gave the order to remount. We were the first to obey.
The night was still very disagreeable. The rain continued to come down with pitiless violence, accompanied by a cold northeast wind, which, combined with the pitchy darkness, rendered traveling the reverse of pleasant. We were, however, too much excited with the prospect to mind the unpleasant state of the weather. We were living on anticipation. Our brilliant hopes overshadowed the uncomfortable present to such an extent that even now I look back to that night's ride as one of the most delightful episodes of a not altogether uneventful life.
An hour's ride brought us to the house of Widow H——, within half of a mile of our picket line. It was still very dark, and altogether unsafe to attempt to approach the pickets. We must wait for daylight. So, when the order to dismount was given, we acquiesced with the best grace possible.
Fastening our horses, we approached the house. A resounding rat-tat-tat brought the widow to the door. Finding the party headed by the leader of the Home Guards, she seemed the reverse of pleased, and was not inclined to accede to our moderate demands for shelter until morning; but finally, with a repugnance she took no pains to conceal, she permitted us to enter. We soon built up a good fire, and under the influence of its cheering warmth forgot the inhospitable conduct of our hostess. With many a jest and story we beguiled the tedious hour till daylight.