"No picket there, sir."

"Very well, Sergeant; when we come to the turn you are to ride a few
rods in advance of us, and will set a good pace, for now we must make
up for all this lost time."

I caught the motion of his hand as it was lifted in salute.

"Very well, sir; here is the turn--to your right."

I could dimly distinguish the opening designated, and as we wheeled
into it he at once clapped spurs to his horse and forged ahead. In
another moment he had totally disappeared, and as I urged our reluctant
mounts to more rapid speed all sound of his progress was instantly lost
in the pounding of our own hoofs on the hard road.

It was like riding directly against a black wall, and far from
comforting to the nerves, for the path was a strange one, and not too
well made. Fortunately the horses followed the curves without mishap,
save an occasional awkward stumble amid loose stones, while the high
walls of rock on either hand made a somewhat denser shadow where they
shut off the lower stars, and thus helped me to guide our progress.

But it was no time for conversation, even had the inclination been
mine, for every nerve was now strained to intensity as I spurred on my
horse and held tightly to the bridle of the other, almost cursing, as I
rode, the unlucky chance which brought us such a burden on a night like
this.