I must have been fully ten minutes, thus endeavoring to break through,
seeing and hearing nothing alarming, yet constantly feeling an odd
premonition of danger, when I finally attained the top of the bank,
perhaps twenty feet back from the river, and looked out through a slight
fringe of bushes. The first thing noticeable was the dull red glow of a
fire, nearly extinguished, some few yards in advance. The little gleam
of light thrown out as the wind stirred the smouldering embers served to
reveal the dirty flap of a tent set up at the edge of a grove of
saplings, and a horse, standing with lowered head, sharply outlined
against the canvas. I could even perceive the deep-seated cavalry
saddle, and catch the shine of accoutrements. All these details came to
me in a sudden flash of observation, for, almost simultaneously with my
rising above the edge of the bank, my ears distinguished voices
conversing, and so closely at hand as to almost unnerve me. I gripped a
root between my fingers to keep from falling, and held on motionless,
striving to locate the speakers. They were to my left, scarcely four
yards distant, yet so dimly revealed against the background of leaves I
could tell nothing of their rank--merely that one was short, and heavily
built, while the other, a much taller, and seemingly more nervous man,
was wrapped in a long cavalry cape. It was his voice speaking, a rather
peculiar voice, as though he possessed some slight impediment of speech.

"Do not look at it in that way, General," he protested earnestly. "I am
not opposing your plan, but merely urging the extreme peril of the
undertaking--"

"Human life cannot be considered at such a time, Hardy," broke in the
other warmly. "The cause for which we battle, the duty confronting us,
outweighs all else. A life may be sacrificed, but that single life may
save thousands."