Night was now not far distant, and, concluding that he had a much better chance to run the gantlet under its cover, he still waited in the wood until the twilight came.

Wrapped in a coil of dangers he was ready to risk anything.  Quickness, resource and boldness, of which the last had been most valuable, had brought him so far, and, encouraged by success, he rode forward full of confidence.

On his right was a small house standing among the usual shade trees, and, approaching it without hesitation, he spoke to a man who stood in the yard.

“Which way is General Pleasanton?” he asked.

The man hesitated.

“I belong to the Fifth Pennsylvania,” said Harry, pointing to the name on the canteen, still visible in the twilight.  The man’s eyes brightened and he replied: 

“Down there,” pointing toward the southwest.

“I’ve a message for him and I don’t want to run into any of the rebel raiders.”

“Then you keep away from there,” he said, pointing due west.

“What’s the trouble in that direction?”

“Jim Hurley was here about an hour ago.  The whole country is terribly excited about these big armies marching over it, and he said that our cavalry was riding on fast.  A lot of it was ahead of the rebel army, but straight there in the west some of the rebel horsemen had spread out on their own flank.  If you went that way in the night you’d be sure to run right into a nest of ’em.”

“So the Johnnies are west of us, your friend Hurley said.  Tell me again what particular point I have to watch in order to keep away from them.”

“Almost as straight west as you can make it.  A valley running east and west cuts in there and it’s full of the rebels.  It’s the only place all along here where they are.”

“And consequently the only place for me to avoid.  Thanks.  Your information may save me from capture.  Good night.”

“Good night and good luck.”

Harry rode toward the southwest until a dip in the valley hid him from possible view of the man at the house.  Then he turned and rode due west, determined to reach as soon as possible those “rebel raiders” in the valley, but fully aware that he must yet use every resource of skill, courage and patience.

The twilight turned into night, clear, dry and bright.  Unless it was raining in the mountains the flood in the Potomac could not be increasing.  Here, at last, the conditions were all that he wished.  The captured haversack still contained plenty of food, and, as he rode, he ate.  He had learned long ago that food was as necessary as weapons to a soldier, and that one should eat when one could.  Moreover, he was always hungry.

He kept among trees wherever possible, and, as the night grew, and the stars came out in the dusky blue, he enjoyed the peace.  Even though he searched with his glasses he could not see soldiers anywhere, although he knew they were in the hollows and the forests.  A pleasant breeze blew, and an owl, reckless of armies, sent forth its lonesome hoot.