He counted them up with painful slowness, speaking each name deliberately, as if calling the roll.
“Dere vos twelve, Captain, mit me, but I am not fit for duty widout I eat somedings first.”
“That will do,” I said peremptorily. “You can have fifteen minutes more to complete filling up. In half an hour from now have the men ready for the road.”
“But, Captain,” he protested, “I vould rattle so mit my insides, by Chiminy, dot der horse vould scare.”
“Do exactly as I say, and no more words, Sergeant,” and I turned and left the room.
We must depart, and at once. More than ever now I realized the necessity for haste. I hoped to meet the officer commanding the Federal detachment who had come to our aid, pay him the customary marks of respect, and get away without again coming in contact with Major Brennan. I felt myself pledged to this course of action.
A sentry stationed in the lower hallway informed me the officers were messing together in the front parlor, and I at once headed that way. I paused, however, to visit the wounded for a moment, spoke cheerily to my own men, and then, opening the door quietly, entered the room which I had last left in possession of the guerillas. With the exception of broken windows and bullet-scarred walls little evidence remained of that contest which had raged here with such fury but a few hours previously. There were numerous dark stains upon the carpet, but much of the furniture had been restored to place, while a cheerful wood fire crackled in the open grate. Before it three men were sitting smoking, while upon a small table close at their elbows rested a flat bottle, flanked by several glasses. A single glance sufficed to tell me they were Federal cavalrymen, one being the red-faced lieutenant whom I had already met.
“I am seeking the commander of this detachment,” I explained, as they glanced up in surprise at my entrance unannounced. “I am Captain Wayne, in charge of the Confederate troop which was engaged in defence of this house.”
A portly man with a strong face, and wearing a closely clipped gray beard, arose from a comfortable armchair and advanced with hand extended.
“I am Captain Moorehouse, in command,” he answered cordially, “and am very glad to meet you. Will you not join with us? My second lieutenant, who has positive genius in that line, has unearthed a few bottles of rather choice whiskey which we will divide most gladly.”