struck somewhere, and then came the rush and
roar of the rain, driven on by a fierce wind out of the southwest. The
close, dense heat was swept away, and the first blasts of the rain were
as cold as ice. The little party was drenched in an instant, and every
one was shivering through and through with combined wet and cold.

The cessation of the lightning was succeeded by pitchy darkness, and the
roaring of the wind and rain was so great that they called loudly to one
another lest they lose touch in the blackness. Dick heard Warner on his
right, and he followed the sound of his voice. But before he went much
further his foot struck a trailing vine, and he fell so hard, his head
striking the trunk of a tree, that he lay unconscious.

The cold rain drove so fiercely on the fallen boy's face and body that
he revived in two or three minutes, and stood up. He clapped his hand to
the left side of his head, and felt there a big bump and a sharp ache.
His weapons were still in his belt and he knew that his injuries were
not serious, but he heard nothing save the drive and roar of the wind
and rain. There was no calling of voices and no beat of footsteps.

He divined at once that his comrades, wholly unaware of his fall, when
no one could either see or hear it, had gone on without missing him.
They might also mount their horses and gallop away wholly ignorant that
he was not among them.

Although he was a little dazed, Dick had a good idea of direction and
he plunged through the mud which was now growing deep toward the little
ravine in which they had hitched their horses. All were gone, including
his own mount, and he had no doubt that the horse had broken or slipped
the bridle in the darkness and followed the others.

He stood a while behind the trunk of a great tree, trying to shelter
himself a little from the rain, and listened. But he could hear neither
his friends leaving nor any foes approaching. The storm was of uncommon
fury. He had never seen one fiercer, and knowing that he had little to
dread from the Southerners while it raged he knew also that he must make
his way on foot, and as best he could, to his own people.

Making a calculation of the direction and remembering that one might
wander in a curve in the darkness, he set off down the stream. He meant
to keep close to the banks of the Rappahannock, and if he persisted he
would surely come in time to Pope's army. The rain did not abate. Both
armies were floode