"Now, then, for it," I replied, as turning my horse's head towards our
lines, I dashed madly forward.

The moon was again obscured, but still the dark outline of the hill which
formed our encampment was discernible on the horizon. Riding side by side,
on we hurried,--now splashing through the deep wet marshes, now plunging
through small streams. Our horses were high in mettle, and we spared them
not. By taking a wide _détour_ we had outflanked the French pickets, and
were almost out of all risk, when suddenly on coming to the verge of rather
a steep hill, we perceived beneath us a strong cavalry picket standing
around a watch-fire; their horses were ready saddled, the men accoutred,
and quite prepared for the field. While we conversed together in whispers
as to the course to follow, our deliberations were very rapidly cut short.
The French prisoner, who hitherto had given neither trouble nor resistance,
had managed to free his mouth from the encumbrance of the handkerchief; and
as we stood quietly discussing our plans, with one tremendous effort he
endeavored to hurl himself and Mike from the saddle, shouting out as he did
so,--

"_A moi camarades! à moi!_"

Hampden's pistol leaped from the holster as he spoke, and levelling it with
a deadly aim, he pulled the trigger; but I threw up his arm, and the ball
passed high above his head. To have killed the Frenchman would have been to
lose my faithful follower, who struggled manfully with his adversary, and
at length by throwing himself flatly forward upon the mane of his horse,
completely disabled him. Meanwhile the picket had sprung to their saddles,
and looked wildly about on every side.

Not a moment was to be lost; so turning our horses' heads towards the