Scoville was indeed anxious about his position, for while he believed that Whately was scarcely capable of transcending the usages of war, he knew well that opportunity only limited the malignity of Perkins.  He therefore rarely took his eyes from this personal enemy.

For his own sake and that of the guards, Perkins aided in building a fire, for in the continued rain all were chilled.  As Chunk saw the leaping flames and the lantern so placed that its rays fell on Scoville, he was almost in despair of any chance for rescue, but believed that his best course was to watch for some change which promised better.  He remembered how Scoville had employed the hootings of the screech-owl as a signal, and resolved by the same means to prepare the prisoner for co-operation with any effort in his behalf.  Therefore he hooted softly and was glad to see from Scoville’s alert yet wary manner that he had recognized the signal.

So intent was Chunk in watching his master that he did not hear the steps of a bewildered Confederate who stumbled over him and fell headlong with a volley of oaths.  The negro employed woful strategy to mislead the soldier, for he grunted like a pig, thus awakening hopes of more fried pork.  The result was immediate pursuit by all within hearing, and Chunk with difficulty escaped by the aid of darkness and his complete familiarity with the place.  When at last he found himself secure he panted, “Mout ez well be took fer Chunk ez a hog.  Stand des ez good a charnce.  Won’t try dat ar game agin.”

He was now sorely puzzled to know what to do, and his nerves were somewhat shaken by his narrow escape.  At last he resolved to send his granny to Miss Lou and consult with the girl.  Accordingly, he stole into the shrubbery of the garden and hooted twice, rightly thinking that Scoville could hear the signal also and believe that something might be attempted in his behalf.  Cowering under a bush, he soon observed Aun’ Jinkey tottering toward the house, muttering, “Good Lawd, hep us!” as she went.

As the excitement of battle and exultation over the capture of Scoville subsided in Whately’s mind he became excessively weary and his exhausted frame suffered from the chill and wetness of the night.  He had sought to keep up by liberal potations in his uncle’s dining-room, but was resolved to get a night’s sleep if possible.  He had urgently charged the sergeant of the guard over the prisoners to be vigilant.  When Perkins offered to share in this watch Whately, understanding the vindictive motive, felt that he need give himself no further anxiety.  He next sought his mother and obtained a little food which the lady had brought to her room.

“Where is Cousin Lou?” the young man asked.

“She is in her own room, and with Zany’s help making bandages.  I would advise you not to see her again to-night.  You are greatly wearied.”

“Little wonder, after riding nearly all last night, and the fighting to-day.”