I was mistaken. I was going to know before midnight.
After an excellent supper, over which Miss Georgia presided with stately dignity—for she, too, had changed, in as marked a degree as Mohun,—I rose, declared I must return to Petersburg, and bade the young ladies, who cordially pressed me to remain, good-night.
Mohun declared that he would remain an hour longer—and having promised a visit soon, at his camp on the Rowanty, I mounted my horse, and set out, through the darkness, for Petersburg.
XVII. — GENERAL DAVENANT.
Following the White Oak road, I passed Hatcher’s Run at Burgess’s mill, and went on over the Boydton road, reflecting upon the scene I had just left.
All at once my horse placed his foot upon a sharp root in the road, stumbled, nearly fell, and when I touched him with the spur I found that he limped painfully.
Dismounting, I examined his foot. The sharp point had entered it, and it was bleeding profusely. The accident was unfortunate—and, attempting to ride on, I found the hurt worse than I had expected. My gray staggered on as if the limb were broken.
I dismounted once more, led him slowly by the bridle, and continued my way on foot. A quarter of a mile farther, the animal was in such agony that I looked around for some light, by which to examine the hurt more fully.