Goddard turned over an empty crate. "Better sit on this, Miss Metoaca," he advised, noting the lines of fatigue in the spinster's haggard face. "There is room for you, too, Miss Nancy. Symonds, come with me," and the two men hastened across the road to the tumbled down shed.

Goddard's mare, Brown Betty, welcomed him with a whinny of delight, and he stopped a moment to caress her. The mules, harnessed to an open two-seated wagon, were hitched beside his horse, but there was no sign of the negro driver.

"You will have to drive them, Symonds," said Goddard, pulling the blanket off his mare, and tightening the saddle girths. "Here, Sergeant," as that worthy approached, "help back these mules out into the street."

It took some moments to induce the mules to move at all, but by dint of much whipping and shouting the animals were finally made to mind. Once out of the shed, Symonds had no difficulty in driving up to the depot, where Goddard soon joined him, leading his horse.

"The darky has disappeared," he explained briefly to Miss Metoaca, as he helped her and Nancy into the back seat and covered them with the warm laprobes that were in the bottom of the wagon.

"Captain Lloyd," Miss Metoaca leaned forward with the inborn breeding inherited from generations of gentle blood, "you appear to have no way of reaching Winchester except by foot. May I offer you the fourth seat in this wagon?"

Lloyd colored as he raised his hat. "Thank you, madam." He caught Nancy's mocking smile, and murmured: "Is it to be an armed truce?"

"Why look on me as an enemy?" she retorted calmly.

Without answering, Lloyd seated himself by Symonds, and they started slowly off. Goddard stayed a moment to exchange a few more words with the officer stationed at the depot, then put spurs to his mare, and soon overtook the rest of his party.

The winter day was drawing to a close, and dusk was falling as they left the last cluster of houses behind them. The mules were old and poorly fed. It was impossible to get them to move faster than a jog-trot. They had gone some distance when Goddard saw a small detachment of cavalry approaching, leisurely walking their horses along the road from Winchester. Their blue uniforms reassured him, and he rode forward to meet the sergeant, and recognized on nearer view the insignia of his corps on the latter's uniform.