But"--

He did not say what he intended, for the cavalry company, which had
forced its way into the midst of the crowd, began to drive their horses
forward, the rabble behind them pressing on in that direction. The
pressure was too great for the Riverlawns to withstand, and they were
pushed forward in spite of their best efforts to hold their ground.

"We might as well go with the tide, Life," said Deck hopelessly, as he
gave way to the pressure.

"No man can help hisself here," replied the sergeant.

"We may as well make way for this rabble," added the lieutenant. "They
will shove each other away from the entrance, and when the coast is
clear we will take our chance of getting out of the fort."

Life Knox yielded the point; for, if they were not to cut their way
through the crowd, this was absolutely the only thing they could do.
They were pressed forward into the intrenchment. Deck observed as he
gave way to the pressure behind him that the soldiers from the field,
or near it,--for not a few had not been in the battle,--hastened from
the entrance to the works, towards the middle of it; in fact, they were
ordered to do so by the guard in charge of the camp, which extended for
over a mile across the tongue of land formed by the Cumberland and the
creek that flowed into it near Robertsport.

Lieutenant Lyon did not follow the example of the fugitives, and there
was still nothing but a rabble near the entrance; and the guard, with
its officers, were a considerable distance from him, and could give his
command no orders. Instead of doing as others did, he led his force to
the verge of the great river, down to which the high banks, amounting
almost to cliffs, descended at an angle of about forty-five degrees.

The lieutenant could do nothing, but he kept up a tremendous thinking
all the time. By this time he was conscious that he had been forced
into a tight place. He reined in his steed when he had advanced perhaps
the third of a mile across the camp, defended by the breastworks, and
gave the order for his men to halt; but it was not spoken with his
customary vim, for he was somewhat depressed by the situation.

He was in a Confederate camp, and all his powers of mind were directed
towards the means of getting out of it; for it would have broken his
heart to hand over his fifty men as prisoners to a Southern officer. He
looked at the entrance; but that was as crowded as at any time before,
and it was impossible for