Gillespie had been seasoned in border warfare, yet he felt uncomfortable at hearing a mere child use the fierce language of the war. “Pshaw, now,” he said, “it’s an ugly business to plan to kill men one at a time! When a whole army gets up before you and you shoot at it, that’s a different matter. And you want to be careful; besides, he’s a good deal more likely to get hold of you and do what he pleases with you than you are with him.” “I’ll be careful,” Neil agreed--“careful to capture him.” There were so many things to occupy the general’s attention that it was nearly daybreak before the messenger was despatched; but at last, with his length and thinness encased in linsey-woolsey petticoats and a sunbonnet on his head, the boy rode off through the cold morning chill. Before Neil started the sunbonnet had been ripped open, and Greene had slipped a letter to Colonel Campbell in between the lining and one of the slats which stiffened its brim. Neil was as conscious of the letter as he was of the rattling of the bonnet round his ears and of the imprisoned feeling which it gave him to wear it. The general had told him to treat the bonnet carelessly if he fell into trouble; to swing it by the strings as a girl might, and to swing it into a fire if possible; but for the first hour Neil was in no trouble except from the bonnet and the petticoats and the necessity of sitting sidewise on his horse. He was riding through woodland; day began to sift slowly down among the dark tree-trunks. The branches above him grew astir with wakening birds; the cold air was sweet from unseen jasmine flowers. The world seemed so quiet, and there was such a sense of peace abroad, that Neil did one of the few imprudent things of his service. His side-saddle continually troubled him; he felt insecurely perched on it, and his back was twisted in an unfamiliar way. If he rode astride for a while, during this secure, peaceful time, he reasoned that the rest of the journey would be easier for him when in full daylight he was obliged to play the girl decorously and be constantly on his guard. One leg swung over. He pressed his knees into the horse’s sides, and gave a suppressed whoop of joy. The horse sped forward, and just for practice, he jerked off his sunbonnet and swung it round and round his head by the strings; the blood danced in him; he leaned forward and gave a hissing chirrup to the horse; his petticoats flapped in the wind, and the trees fled hastily to the rear. Now was his chance for making time. To feel himself firmly and naturally seated on the horse was glorious. He swung the bonnet round his head again. One of the strings slipped from his hand and the other tore from the bonnet. The bonnet flew to the roadside, and before Neil could check his horse it was rods behind.