"I am upon an important mission from General Jackson—"
"It air not any more important than my orders air! You get down from that thar horse and mark time!"
"That is not necessary. Call your officer of guard."
"Thank you for the sug-ges-tion," said Billy politely. "And don't you move while I carry it out!" He put his fingers to his lips and whistled shrilly. A sergeant and two men came tumbling out of the darkness. "What is it, Maydew?"
"It air a man trying to get by without the countersign."
The first horseman moved a little to one side. "Come here, sergeant! Have you got a light? Wait, I will strike a match."
He struck it, and it flared up, making for an instant a space of light. Both the sergeant and Billy saw his face. The sergeant's hand went up to his cap with an involuntary jerk; he fell back from the rein he had been holding. Billy almost dropped his musket. He gasped weakly, then grew burning red. Jackson threw down the match. "Good! good! I see that I can trust my pickets. What is the young man named?"
"Billy Maydew, sir. Company A, 65th Virginia."
"Good! good! Obedience to orders is a soldier's first, last, and best lesson! He will do well." He gathered up the reins. "There are four men here. You will all forget that you have seen me, sergeant."
"Yes, sir."