For Lucius had passed beyond the line, and casting all idea of further concealment to the winds, leaped forward like a startled hare.
In a moment all was bustle and confusion. The pickets sprang to arms, orders were shouted in rapid succession, and twenty men darted upon the track of the fugitive, while the advance sentries, hearing the commotion, stopped on their beat, eagerly waiting the explanation of the unusual disturbance, which, so far as they were concerned, seemed to come from the wrong quarter.
The very energy of the pursuit saved Lucius; for sentries, pursuers, and pursued were all mixed up in one inextricable tangle in the darkness, and the noise the soldiers made in following him of itself prevented them from getting any clear idea of his whereabouts.
On he dashed. Shots were fired here and there at random; but if any one was hit it was not Lucius, and in less than five minutes he plumped into the middle of a Confederate picket, under arms, and ready for an affair of outposts, if that were what the noise presaged.
‘I surrender! I surrender!’ panted Lucius. ‘Take me prisoner! Quick!’
‘I reckon ef thet’s what ye’ve come fer, ye’ve got yer way,’ said a Confederate soldier gruffly, at the same time seizing him by the arm. ‘Air thar enny more er you uns on the road?’
‘No,’ gasped Lucius; ‘there’s only me. Take me to the General. Quick! Oh, do be quick!’
‘Take ye to the Ginrul! Thet’s good! Ho! ho!’ The men around broke into loud laughter; but an officer, coming up at that moment, sternly ordered silence, and raising a lantern to look at Lucius, demanded who he was, and what he meant by running into them like that.
‘I want to see the General,’ repeated Lucius, who just then could think of nothing else to say.
‘State your business to me,’ said the officer. ‘I will be the judge as to whether it is of sufficient importance to justify the granting of your request. Are you a deserter from the enemy? Do you bring news of his movements?’