“What is your name, rank, and regiment?”
“Lieutenant David Stark,” I replied, and was about to add my regiment, when I was interrupted—
“Great scott! Is it Dave?” And my old colonel, forgetting military etiquette, was slapping me on the back and almost dancing, as he cried out “My! David, I am glad to see you!”
He had no need to tell me that.
“I little thought yesterday,” I said, “that I should be here this morning, or possibly ever again. I can hardly believe it even now.”
As I told of my escape, and about the horse, the colonel said, “I see—the horse has been here before, and knew the safe way.”
Calling to his orderly he commanded, “Bring the saddle here at once, and feed the horse well.” Then, looking at his watch—“It is thirty minutes past four. What time did you get away?”
I couldn’t tell. It had seemed an eternity since I had started, so long was the way to freedom.