“A sudden parting between yourself and Katy, Tom!” I said, as we galloped on. “A touching spectacle! When will you be married?”
“In a week or two—to answer seriously, old fellow,” responded Tom.
“Is it possible!”
“Even so, my boy.”
“Here, at Disaways?”
“No, in Richmond. Katy’s family are refugees there, now; and I was going to escort her to Petersburg to-morrow, but for these rascals—and I will do it, yet.”
“Good! I hope the way will be clear then! Let us go on. There is no time to lose in order to warn General Fitz!”
We pushed on, following bridle-paths, and making toward Dinwiddie Court-House. Half an hour thus passed, and we were near the Roney’s Bridge road, when, suddenly, the whole forest on our right blazed with shots. Loud shouts accompanied the firing. The woods crackled as horsemen rushed through them. An obstinate fight was going on in the darkness, between the Federal and Confederate cavalry.
Plainly, the Confederates had not been surprised, and the dash and vim with which they met the Federal onset, seemed to dishearten their enemies. For fifteen minutes the combat continued with great fury, amid the pines; the air was filled with quick spirts of flame, with the clash of sabres, with loud cheers and cries; then the wave of Federal horsemen surged back toward the Rowanty; the Confederates pressed them, with cheer; and the affair terminated in a headlong pursuit.
Tom and myself had gotten into the mêlée early in the action, and my feather had been cut out of my hat by a sabre stroke which a big blue worthy aimed at me. This was my only accident, however. In fifteen minutes I had the pleasure of seeing our friends run.