"Yes; where did you come from?"
I had not yet seen his face distinctly, but his voice and dialect at once aroused my doubts, and again put me on my guard, and I said:
"I'll tell you all about it when your officer comes," and I braced for a run.
In another moment the rattling of a saber was heard, coming from the direction of the woods, and, peering through the darkness into the grove, I was able to distinguish the outlines of a house.
When the officer with his rattling scabbard got up to us I was almost paralyzed to see him dressed in the grey uniform of a Confederate cavalry officer. Addressing me courteously, he said:
"What in the name of all that's good brings you out on this road on such a dark night, disturbing our sleep?"
He laughed, as if he thought it a good joke on himself; it was only a trifling little laugh, but it gave me some encouragement.
"Why, I have been hunting the house where a sick friend of mine was left after the battle, and, being unable to find him, I went to sleep in a barn, but I couldn't stand that sort of a rest, so I got out and started back home, and I guess I'm lost."
"I guess you are."
The use of this word nearly gave me away.