be done thinking of the young ladies. It put my heart
in a flutter when I looked back at the castle from the wood's edge
and saw one of them waving her handkerchief in a window. I lifted
my hat, and put my spurs to the flank with such a pang in me I
dared not look again. Save for that one thing, I never felt
better. The trail was smooth, and we galloped along in silence for
a mile or so. Then it narrowed to a stony path, where one had
enough to do with slow going to take care of his head, there were
so many boughs in the way.
"Jerushy Jane!" exclaimed D'ri, as he slowed down. "Thet air's a
gran' place. Never hed my karkiss in no sech bed as they gin me
las' night--softer 'n wind, an' hed springs on like them new wagins
ye see over 'n Vermont. Jerushy! Dreamed I was flyin'."
I had been thinking of what to do if we met the enemy and were hard
pressed. We discussed it freely, and made up our minds that if
there came any great peril of capture we would separate, each to
take his own way out of the difficulty.
We halted by a small brook at midday, feeding the horses and
ourselves out of the saddle-bags.
"Ain't jest eggzac'ly used t' this kind uv a sickle," said D'ri, as
he felt the edge of his sabre, "but I 'll be dummed ef it don't
seem es ef I 'd orter be ruther dang'rous with thet air 'n my hand."
He knew a little about rough fighting with a sabre. He had seen my
father and me go at each other hammer and tongs there in our
door-yard every day of good weather. Stormy days he had always
stood by in the kitchen, roaring with laughter, as the good steel
rang and the house trembled. He had been slow to come to it, but
had had his try with us, and had learned to take an attack without
flinching. I went at him hard for a final lesson that day in the
woods--a great folly, I was soon to know. We got warm and made
more noise than I had any thought of. My horse took alarm and
pulled away, running into a thicket. I turned to catch him.
"Judas Priest!" said D'ri.
There, within ten feet of us, I saw what made me, ever after, a
more prudent man. It was an English officer leaning on his sword,
a tall and handsome fellow of some forty years, in shiny top-hoots
and scarlet blouse and gauntlets of brown kid.
"You are quite clever," said he, touching his gray mustache.
I made no answer, but stood pulling myself together.
"You will learn," he added, smiling, with a tone of encouragement.
"Let me show
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