But he would go on. Drawing the blanket more tightly around his body,
he turned into the narrow road by which he had come, and urged his horse
into that easy Southern gait known as a pace. He would have been glad
to go faster, but he was too wise to push a horse that had already been
traveling twenty hours.

Harry did not yet feel secure by any means. The lads of the South,
where the cities were few and small, had been used from childhood to the
horse. They had become at once cavalry of the highest order; but the
lads of the North were learning, too. He had no doubt that bands of
Northern horsemen were now ranging the country to the very verge of the
camps of Jackson and Lee.

The belief became a certainty when a score of riders in blue appeared on
a hill behind him. One of their number blew a musical note on a trumpet,
and then all of them, with a shout, urged their horses in pursuit of
Harry, who felt as if it were for all the world a fox chase, with
himself as the fox.

He knew that his danger was great, but he resolved to triumph over it.
He must get through to Jackson with the news that the Army of the
Potomac was in Virginia. Others from Sherburne's troop might arrive
with the same news, but he did not know it. It was not his place to
reckon on the possible achievements of others. So far as this errand
was concerned, and so far as he was now concerned, there was nobody in
the world but himself. Swiftly he reckoned the chances.

He changed the pace of his horse into an easy gallop and sped along the
road. But the horse did not have sufficient reserve of strength to
increase his speed and maintain the increase. He knew without looking