Jack, by tacit consent, was considered commander of the squad, Barney remarking humorously that they would not ask to see his commission until they were in a country where a title meant authority.  The commander ordered his small army very judiciously.  They were to ride as far apart as the roads or woods or natural obstructions would admit.  They thus moved forward in the shape of a triangle, the apex to the rear.  Exchanges of position were made every six hours.  They were at the end of the second day, toward sunset, approaching what they supposed was Warrick Creek, nearly half-way to Fort Monroe, when they suddenly emerged on an open plateau from which they could see a mile or two before them a tranquil waste of crimson water.

“Why, this can’t be the creek!” exclaimed Jones, excitedly.  “The creek isn’t half a mile at its broadest.”

“What can it be?” Jack asked, who had been the right wing to Jones’s left.  “It’s certainly not the James, for the sun is setting at our back!”

“Blest if I can tell.  It looks very much like the Chesapeake, only the Chesapeake is wider.”

By this time Barney and Dick had ridden up, and began to admire the expanse of water spreading from the land before them to a green wilderness in the distance.

“I’m afraid we are in a fix,” Jones said, resignedly.  “If I’m not very much mistaken, the red line yonder, that looks like a roadway, is a breastwork, and behind that what looks like a plowed field is earthworks.  My boys, we are before Yorktown and farther from our lines than we were yesterday.  The nigger that showed us the way in the woods was either ignorant or deceiving us.  We are now inside the outposts of the rebels, and we shall have to crawl on our hands and knees to escape them.”

“I don’t see what better off we’ll be on our hands and knees than we are in our saddles,” Barney cried, guilelessly.  “Sure we can go faster on the bastes than we can on our hands, and, as for me knees, ’tis only in prayer that I ever use them.”

“Not in love, Barney?” Dick asked, innocently.

“No, me darlin’.  The gurls I love think more of me arms than me knees, and I do all of me pleadin’ with me lips.”

“I should think they could hold their own,” Jones remarked, dryly.

“Indeed, they can that, and a good deal more, as me best gurl’ll tell you if she’ll tell the truth, and no fear of her doing that, I’ll go bail.”

“Fie!  Barney, if she won’t tell the truth you should have none of her,” Dick cried in stage tones.

“Indeed, it’s little I have of her, for she’s that set on Teddy Redmund that she leaves me to her mother, when Teddy comes to the porch of an evening.”