The officer below, after he had politely informed “Jenny” of the early movement, seemed to be in no hurry to get into the saddle. He went out at the door of the stable, and all was silent again, except the voice of Jenny, who seemed to be protesting against any movement before she had received her customary feed of corn.
“Peters!” shouted the officer from the door, “hurry up! The Yankees will get to the James River before you get the saddle on my horse. Where have you been?”
“I was looking for my boots.”
“An orderly ought to wear his boots to bed with him, if he can’t put them where he can find them,” replied the officer, as the heavy step of another man was heard in the stable below.
“What news did you hear?” asked the officer, as the orderly led the horse from the stall.
“The sergeant said some officer that had been took as a deserter done runned away,” replied Peters, as the fugitives heard the rattle of the saddle-gear.
“He done took a Yankee prisoner from the depot with him,” added Peters, who, if he had not been called an orderly, the listeners would have taken for a negro.
“You may take a peck of corn in a bag for Jenny, Peters. We may have a long ride of it,” added the officer, as he left the stable.
A peck of corn! De Banyan and Somers were sitting on the grain chest! It was impossible to avoid discovery; and De Banyan threw off his cloak, ready for the emergency.