There was a road through the cedars, starting from a point to the north of where Vallingham had entered. Toward this road the Confederate now pressed, with Deck at his heels, trying to get a shot, but balked by the trees and the darkness. More than once, the major went down, and he wondered how the escaping prisoner could keep in the saddle.
As a matter of fact, Vallingham had dismounted, and was leading his steed for the road. He was armed, as he had intimated, but his weapon was nothing more formidable than a stout stick just picked up. He reached the road at last, and leaped into the saddle once more.
Deck came into the opening before Vallingham had advanced more than ten yards. In the gloom he saw the forms of horse and rider, and fired twice in quick succession, at the same time calling upon Clefton and Sanford that the prisoner was again in sight.
The second leaden messenger from the major's weapon struck the Confederate's horse in the flank, and he leaped to one side from the pain, unseating Vallingham, and sending the captain to the ground. The shock was a heavy one, and ere the captain could recover, Deck was upon him.
"Do you surrender, or shall I fire on you?" demanded the young Union officer.
"I—I surrender," groaned Vallingham. "Oh! I am afraid I have broken a rib."
"If you have, I am sorry for you, but you brought it on yourself," answered Deck, coolly. "Sit still until the others come up."
Clefton and Sanford were in sight, and a call brought them to Deck's side. By this time Captain Vallingham had grown very pale; and suddenly he fainted. Water was brought, and he revived, but he said his right side hurt him a good deal where it had struck against a sharp stone.
The horse that had been wounded walked lamely, but was still in fair condition, and the Confederate, being unable to walk, was allowed to ride, Sanford leading the steed. The whole party turned back to the trail, where they found Life and his men and the third prisoner awaiting them.
"And so Colver is gone," said Captain Vallingham, when told of the shooting of the man who had leaped into the creek. "Poor fellow; I am afraid I am responsible for his rashness."