"My brother and myself must not be misapprehended," continued Mildred; "I alluded only to my father's influence. I have heard that he enjoys some consideration in the esteem of Lord Cornwallis, and it is upon the strength of that I have ventured. Besides, I am well attended by a careful and wise soldier, who rides as my companion and guide—one who would not quietly see me harmed."
"Let him be brought into our consultation," said Mrs. Markham. "I would not act without his advice. With your leave, I will send for him."
Henry and Alfred Markham, immediately upon this hint, went in pursuit of Horse Shoe.
When that important and trusty personage arrived in the parlor, a regular conference was opened, which, after a few discourses on the general aspect of affairs—wherein the sergeant showed an abundance of soldierly sagacity and knowledge, and a still greater share of warm and faithful concern for the welfare of the sister and brother whom he had in ward—resulted in the conclusion that measures should be taken to ascertain the state of the country around, in reference to the impression made by the late movements of Marion and his adversary; and, especially, what character of troops occupied the region over which the sergeant would be required to conduct his charge. This duty the sergeant very appropriately considered as belonging to himself, and he therefore determined forthwith to set out on a reconnoitring expedition. As we propose to bear him company, we will, for the present, leave the family in the parlor to the enjoyment of the kind communion that had already nursed up a mutual affection between the hostess and her guests.
The sergeant took his departure alone, notwithstanding the urgent importunities of Henry and his new companion, Alfred Markham, for permission to accompany him—a request that was utterly denied by the sturdy and cautious soldier.
"You are apt to talk too much, Mister Lindsay," he said, in answer to the petition of the young men, "for such a piece of business as I have in hand: for although, consarning your good sense, and valor both, considering your years, I would not be thought to speak rashly of them—but, on the contrary, to give you full praise and recommendation—yet you know you want experience and use to these duble-dealings and dodgings that the war puts us to; whereupon, you mought fall to talking when it was best to be silent, and, in case of our meeting a body, to be letting out somewhat too much, which is a thing that discommodes in war more than you would believe. And besides this, Master Henry, there might be, mayhap, a scrimmage, a chase, and what not—in which consideration you would be only in my way, seeing that I should be obliged to be thinking of you when all my wits would be wanting for myself. No, no; upon no account is it reasonable that you should be along. It is your business to sarve as a body-guard to our young lady, who, I say, may God bless and take care of in this world and the next! And so, Mister Henry, you have my orders to stick to your post."
"Well, sergeant," replied Henry, "I must obey orders, and if you command me to stay behind, why I cannot choose about it. But, sergeant, let me give you a word of advice. Ride cautiously—keep your eyes to the right and left, as well as straight before you—and don't let them catch you napping."
"You studied that speech, Mr. Henry!" said Horse Shoe, laughing. "To hear you, one mought almost think you had shaved a beard from your chin before this. Look out, or your hair will turn grey from too hard thinking! and now, my long-headed fellow-soldier, good bye t'ye!"
"You are not going without your rifle, Mr. Horse Shoe?" said Henry, calling out to the sergeant, who had already trotted off some twenty paces.
"That's another consarn for you to ruminate over," replied Horse Shoe, in the same jocular mood. "Mine is a business of legs, not arms, to-day."