So ended his day-dream of a career in the busy world.

CHAPTER LVIII.

We leave Savannah—­more hopes of exchange—­scenes at departure —­“Flankers”—­On the back track toward Andersonville—­alarm thereat —­at the parting of two ways—­we finally bring up at camp Lawton.

On the evening of the 11th of October there came an order for one thousand prisoners to fall in and march out, for transfer to some other point.

Of course, Andrews and I “flanked” into this crowd.  That was our usual way of doing.  Holding that the chances were strongly in favor of every movement of prisoners being to our lines, we never failed to be numbered in the first squad of prisoners that were sent out.  The seductive mirage of “exchange” was always luring us on.  It must come some time, certainly, and it would be most likely to come to those who were most earnestly searching for it.  At all events, we should leave no means untried to avail ourselves of whatever seeming chances there might be.  There could be no other motive for this move, we argued, than exchange.  The Confederacy was not likely to be at the trouble and expense of hauling us about the country without some good reason—­something better than a wish to make us acquainted with Southern scenery and topography.  It would hardly take us away from Savannah so soon after bringing us there for any other purpose than delivery to our people.

The Rebels encouraged this belief with direct assertions of its truth.  They framed a plausible lie about there having arisen some difficulty concerning the admission of our vessels past the harbor defenses of Savannah, which made it necessary to take us elsewhere—­probably to Charleston—­for delivery to our men.

Wishes are always the most powerful allies of belief.  There is little difficulty in convincing a man of that of which he wants to be convinced.  We forgot the lie told us when we were taken from Andersonville, and believed the one which was told us now.

Andrews and I hastily snatched our worldly possessions—­our overcoat, blanket, can, spoon, chessboard and men, yelled to some of our neighbors that they could have our hitherto much-treasured house, and running down to the gate, forced ourselves well up to the front of the crowd that was being assembled to go out.

The usual scenes accompanying the departure of first squads were being acted tumultuously.  Every one in the camp wanted to be one of the supposed-to-be-favored few, and if not selected at first, tried to “flank in”—­that is, slip into the place of some one else who had had better luck.  This one naturally resisted displacement, ‘vi et armis,’ and the fights would become so general as to cause a resemblance to the famed Fair of Donnybrook.  The cry would go up: