wn a slight incline, and remembering that the marsh
lower down might be difficult turned aside and came on a deep gully. The
night was still dark, but a faint glow to eastward made haste desirable.
The gully, as he rode beside it, flattened out, but at once he felt that
his horse was in trouble on marshy ground. He dismounted and led him,
but always the better footing lay nearer to the clump of trees. He made
up his mind to ride for it. While on foot he had been as yet hardly
visible. A shot from the salient group of trees decided him. He mounted
and touched Hoodoo with the spur. The horse bounded forwards too quickly
to sink in the boggy ground. Then a dozen shots told the rider he had
been seen. Something like the feeling of a blow from a stick was felt as
his left arm fell with gripped reins, and the right arm also dropped.
Hoodoo pitched forward, rose with a gallant effort, and sinking down
rolled to left upon the rider's leg.

The horse lay still. Penhallow's first sensation was astonishment; then
he began to make efforts to get free. His arms were of no use. He tried
to stir his horse with the spur of the free foot. It had no effect.
Something must be wrong with him. He had himself a feeling of weakness he
could not comprehend, aware that he had no wound of the trunk. His
useless arms made all effort vain, and the left foot under the weight of
the horse began to feel numb. The position struck him as past help until
our people charged. He thought of Francis's axiom that there was nothing
so entirely tragic as to be without some marginalia of humour. The lad
smiled at his use of the word. His own situation appealed to him as
ridiculous--a man with a horse on him waiting for an army to lift it off.

The left elbow began to recover from the early insensibility of shock and
to be painful. Then in the dim light, as he lifted his head, he was aware
of a Rebel soldier in front covering him with a revolver. Penhallow cried
out with promptness, "I surrender--and I am shot through both arms."

The soldier said, "You are not worth taking--guess you'll keep till we
lick the Yanks," and walking around the helpless officer he appropriated
his revolver.

"Can you get my horse up?" said John.

"Horse up! I want your boots."

"Well, pull them off--I can't."

"Oh, don't you bother, I'll get them." With this he knelt down and began
on the boot which belonged to the leg projecting beneath the horse. "Darn
it! They're just my si