“Le Gaire,” I began, choking a bit at the name, “do you remember a big white house, on the right of the pike, the first beyond a log church, south from the Three Corners?”

He looked up from his work with sparkling eyes.

“I suah does; I reckon I could find dat place in de dark.”

“Well, that is exactly what I want you to do, my man.  I have some work to do there to-night.”

“How yo’ goin’ to git dar?”

I explained about the ravine, the positions of the Confederate lines, and where I understood the special guards were stationed.  The boy listened in silence, his fingers, clinching and unclinching, alone evidencing excitement.

“Will that plan work?” I asked, “or can you suggest any better way?”

“I reckon it’ll work,” he admitted, “if yo’ don’t git cotched afore yo’ git dar.  I knows a heap ’bout dat ravine; I’se hunted rabbits dar many a time, an’ it ain’t goin’ to be no easy job gittin’ through dar in de dark.”

“Will you show us the way?”

“Well, I don’t just know,” scratching his head thoughtfully.  “Maybe de col’nel wouldn’t let me.”

“I can arrange that.”

“Den I don’t want fo’ to go to dat house; dat’s whar I run away from.”

“But I thought you belonged to the Le Gaires of Louisiana?”

“Dat’s what I did, sah; but I done tol’ yo’ I come up yere wid de army.  I was left dere till de captain come back; dose folks was friends o’ his.”

“Oh, I see; well, will you go along as far as the end of the ravine?”

He looked out over the hills, and then back into my face, his eyes narrowing, his lips setting firm over the white teeth.  I little realized what was taking place in the fellow’s brain, what real motive influenced his decision, or the issues involved.

“I reckon I will, sah, providin’ de col’nel says so.”  There was, of course, no difficulty in obtaining the consent of that officer, and by nine o’clock we were ready to depart, ten picked men, young, vigorous lads, though veterans in service, led by Miles, together with the negro Le Gaire and myself.  Taking a lesson from the guerillas we were armed only with revolvers, intending to fight, if fight we must, at close quarters; and the brass buttons, and all insignia of rank liable to attract attention had been removed from our blouses.  Upon our heads we wore slouch hats.  I had decided to make the attempt on foot, as we could thus advance in greater silence.  Without attracting attention, or starting any camp rumor, we passed, two by two, out beyond the pickets, and made rendezvous on the bank of the river.  It was a dark night.  As soon as the sergeant reported all were present, I led the way up stream for perhaps a mile until we came to the mouth of the ravine.  Here I called them around me, barely able to distinguish the dim figures, although within arm’s length, explained my plans and gave strict orders.  As I ceased speaking I could plainly hear their suppressed breathing, so deathly still was the night.