“How many men will you require?”

I hesitated, but for barely an instant.

“Not to exceed ten, General—­a small party will accomplish as much as a larger one, and be less liable to attract attention.  All I need will volunteer from my own company.”

Apparently his own thought coincided with mine, for he merely looked at me a moment with those searching gray eyes, and then turned to the map, beckoning me to join him.

“Familiarize yourself with every detail of the topography of the region,” he said, his finger on the paper.  “Colonel Parker will explain anything you may need to know.”  He straightened up, and extended his hand, the cigar still crushed between his teeth.  “I believe you are the right stuff, Lieutenant; young enough to be reckless, old enough to know the value of patience.  Are you married?”

I shook my head, with a smile, yet conscious my cheeks were flushed.

“Then I am going to say to you—­go, and do the best you can.  Parker will give you any other instructions you desire.  Good-bye, my lad, and good luck.”

He turned and left the room, my eyes following him until the door closed.

CHAPTER XVII

BEGINNING THE NIGHT ADVENTURE

The colonel of engineers did not delay me long, and, eager to be away, I made my necessary questions as brief as possible.  Riding back through the encampment of troops, hampered more or less by the irregularity of the different commands, I had ample time in which to outline the night’s adventure.  I comprehended fully the danger of the mission, and that the probability was strongly against success.  Reckless audacity, coupled with rare good fortune, might result in our return with the prisoner sought, but it was far more likely that we would be the ones captured, if we escaped with our lives.  Yet this knowledge caused no hesitancy on my part; I was trained to obedience, and deep down in my heart welcomed the opportunity.  The excitement appealed to me, and the knowledge that this service was to be performed directly under the eye of the great General of the West, was in itself an inspiration.  If I lived to come back it meant promotion, the praise of the army, a line on the page of history—­enough surely to arouse the ambition of youth.

It was early in the afternoon when I reached the position of my regiment, and reported to the colonel, asking the privilege of selecting a detail.  Then, as I sat at mess, I studied my men, mentally picking from among them those best adapted to the desperate task.  I chose those I had seen in action, young, unmarried fellows, and for “non-com,” Sergeant Miles, a slender, silent man of thirty, in whom I had implicit confidence.  I checked the names over, satisfying myself I had made no mistake.  Leaving Miles to notify these fellows, and prepare them for service, I crossed to the colonel’s tent in search of the ex-slave.  He was easily found.