, but slow at making
friendships."

"Thank you," said Blake, understanding him readily. "I am somewhat like
you."

The solemnity of the night and of the fate-laden hours had opened for
a minute the minds of two men as reserved and reticent as are most
well-bred Americans, who as a rule lack the strange out-spoken frankness
of our English kin.

"Oh! here is my summons," said Blake. "Good luck to you, Penhallow. I
have about the closing of this war a kind of fear I have never had
before."

"That is natural enough," returned Penhallow, "and I fancy it is not
uncommon. Let us part with a more pleasant thought. You will come and
shoot with me at Grey Pine in the fall? Bye-bye."

Blake rode away. His friend deep in thought and unable to sleep watched
the dying fire. The night hours ran on. Obedient to habit he wound his
watch. "Not asleep," said a pleasant voice. He rose to face the slight
figure and gently smiling face of General Parke.

"What time is it, Penhallow?"

"Four o'clock, sir."

"I have sent back Captain Blake with a word to General Wright, but he
will have too long a ride. I want you to carry this same request. By
taking the short cut in front of our lines, you can get there in a third
of the time. You will keep this side of our pickets to where our line
turns, then go through them and down the slope a bit. For a short
distance you will be near the clump of trees on the right. If it is
picketed--there are no pickets nearer--you will have to ride hard. Once
past the angle of their line you are safe. Am I clear?"

"Certainly, sir. There is some marshy ground--I climbed a tree and looked
it over yesterday--it won't stop the men, but may slow a horse."

"I see. Here is my note."

Penhallow tucked it in his belt and roused Josiah. "See to the girth," he
said. "Is Hoodoo in good order?"

"Yes, sir. Where you going, Master John?"

"A little errand. Make haste."

"I know those little errands," said the black. "The good Lord care for
him," he murmured, as the man he loved best was lost in the darkness.

He was aware of the great danger of his errand and was at once in that
state of intensity of attention which sharpens every sense. He rode for
the fourth of a mile between the long lines of infantry now astir here
and there, and then an officer saw him through their picket-line. "Good
luck to you!" he said. "I think the Rebs have no outlying pickets, but
the woods are full of them."

Penhallow rode do