My companion was so utterly discomfited and dejected that he refused positively to move a step further, saying:
"I'm going to stay right here till somebody comes and takes me away. I don't care whether it's Rebels or not."
So we held the fort, he finally succeeding in lighting up a little fire against and under an old log that had covered some little twigs from the storm.
"There's no danger of anybody coming out here to-night to see our fire, or bother us," said my comrade. "Nobody would be as foolish as we are, to be caught out to-night."
If we had been surprised in that condition, it's probable enough we could easily have palmed off the Maryland refugee story, and have obtained credit for our self-sacrificing devotion, in trying to overcome such dreary difficulties in getting into the Confederate lines.
I reasoned that this would be all right for him, if I were only sure of not running across the chap who had seen me at General Patterson's headquarters while I was presenting a letter from the Secretary of War proposing the spy service. My companion, who had not so much to risk, continued growling:
"Why, if we should get to the river, or run across some of our pickets in this darkness, they'd be sure to go off at half-cock, and shoot us before we had a chance to say beans."
This was a convincing argument with me. We were still between two fires. I agreed to wait for more light. I was anxious, however, that our officers should have the information we had obtained—that General Joseph E. Johnston's army was not in General Patterson's front, and the dreadful masked batteries, which were so much feared by our generals, were merely bush fortresses, thrown across the roads, or laid out shrewdly to deceive our officers. There were no soldiers and no cannon near them; and, moreover, the enemy was in communication direct with General Patterson's headquarters, as we could prove, and probably knew all his plans, while he was wholly ignorant of the probable escape of Johnston's whole force.
As I sat there, like a disconsolate toad, on that log, in the pelting rain, I pondered these things in my mind, until I became so nervous that I could scarcely keep still. Every moment was valuable. I determined to start again as soon as the rain would let up a little. But the elements seemed to be against us; it not only rained, but it poured, for the balance of the night, making the daylight later than usual.
My companion became sleepy and dreadfully stupid, and was apparently lost to all fear for his own safety. My time was pretty much occupied in trying to keep our little bit of fire from going out. Before I was fully aware of it, the grey daylight was mixing with the black, which was beginning to thin out as the rain slackened off somewhat. I soon began to distinguish objects in the landscape short distances away. A large farmhouse situated only a short distance to our rear was revealed, but being off the road, as is the custom in that country, we had passed it in our tramp along the road during the night.