At the opposite extremity of the extensive field, a solitary horseman was seen darting out of the woods occupied by the Federal infantry, and this man was obviously a deserter, making his way into our lines.
At a sign from General Hampton, Captain Church went to meet him, and as my horse was fresh, I accompanied my friend in his ride.
The deserter came on at full speed to meet us, and for a moment, his horse skimmed the dusky expanse like a black-winged bird.{1} Then, all at once, his speed moderated; he approached at a jog-trot, and through the gathering gloom I recognised, above the blue uniform, the sweetly smiling countenance of Nighthawk!
{Footnote 1: This scene is real.}
“Good evening, colonel,” said Nighthawk; “I am glad to see you again, and hope you are well.”
“So you have turned deserter, Nighthawk?” I said, laughing heartily.
“Precisely, colonel. I could not get off before. Will you inform me where I can find General Stuart?”
“I will take you to him.”
And riding back with Captain Church and Nighthawk, I soon found myself again in presence of General Hampton.
A word from me explained the real character of the pseudo-deserter. General Hampton asked a number of questions, Nighthawk replied to them, and then the latter begged me to conduct him to General Stuart. I did so without delay, and we soon reached Stuart’s bivouac, where he was talking with his staff by a camp-fire.