Now this officer of the guard was none other than Thomas Talbot, Esquire, himself, as large as life but uncommonly sleepy, and anxious to have done with his task. Prescott was startled by his friend's appearance there at such a critical moment, but he remembered that the night was dark and he was heavily muffled.
Talbot looked at the pass, expressed his satisfaction and handed it back to Prescott, who replaced it in his waistcoat pocket with ostentatious care.
"Cold night for a long drive," said Talbot, wishing to be friendly.
Prescott nodded but did not speak.
"Especially for a lady," added Talbot gallantly.
Miss Catherwood nodded also, and with muttered thanks Prescott, gathering up the lines, drove on.
"That was a particular friend of mine," he said, when they were beyond the hearing of the outpost, "but I do not recall a time when the sight of him was more unwelcome."
"Well, at any rate, he was less troublesome than friends often are."
"Now, don't forget that you are still Mrs. Elias Gardner of Wellsville," he continued, "as there are more earthworks and outposts to pass."
"I don't think that fugitives often flee from a city in their own coach and four," she said with that recurring flicker of humour.