"General Ross, commandin' the British forces on land, has arrived at the Wood Yard, an' the chances are that, with troops accustomed to long marches, he will push on without much of a halt. Even if we were not needed in Washington, it would stand us in hand to move mighty quick." Then Darius continued his task of awakening the sleepers, and I made ready for another march when it seemed as if the word to halt had but just been given. When we set out again all of us from the Avenger were side by side, and, although it may seem childish to say so, the fact that I had friends at either hand gave me renewed strength of body as well as of mind. It is not well that I make any further attempt at following step by step what was supposed to be a hurried movement to reinforce our comrades of the flotilla, but which in reality was neither more nor less than a hasty retreat. It is enough if I say that late in the night following the day when Commodore Barney's fleet was destroyed, we arrived at the marine barracks in Washington, where was the force which had accompanied our commander. Just then we were too tired and foot-sore to give any heed to our friends who had been impatiently awaiting the arrival of us who had been left behind on a dangerous duty. We only asked permission to lie down anywhere in order to rest our aching limbs, and this we were able to do, as a matter of course. When morning came, however, and we were awakened by the bustle and confusion which would naturally arise when five or six hundred men are quartered in four buildings forming a square, we gave little heed to the stiffness of joints and blistered feet which remained as mementoes of that long march, as we greeted those for whom we had greater or less affection. The first person whom I saw was Bill Jepson. He had been searching through the barracks for Jerry and me, and I really believe the old fellow was heartily pleased at seeing us once more. "Well, my bullies, how about that famous ship Avenger, Amos Grout commander, and Darius Thorpe general supercargo?" Bill cried in a voice of thunder as he shook hands with each of us in turn, beginning with me, and ending with Dody Wardwell. "What there is left of her might be found at the bottom of the Patuxent, if you hunted long enough," I replied, feeling a bit saddened by the loss of the pungy, and not having had time before to think very much about her fate. "The whole fleet went up, eh? Tell me about it," and Bill seated himself on the edge of a bunk as if expecting to hear a long yarn. There wasn't much to be told, as is known by any one who has had the patience to read what has been set down here; but I gave him a full account of all we had done, and wound up by complaining of the long march we had been forced to take.