The soldier addressed smiled good-humoredly as he murmured something to his comrade about the “inconvenience of having women and parsons encumbering them on their march;” and then he dismounted, knotted up his bridle, so that it should not get entangled under his horse’s feet, and leaving his well-trained steed to walk soberly down the path, he came and took the preacher’s bridle and led his cob carefully along the perilous pass. In this manner they continued their dangerous journey until they reached the foot of the mountain. “Thank Heaven it is over!” piously exclaimed the parson, as they found themselves safe at the entrance of a wooded valley. There was no road; but, guided by a pocket compass, the band took their way westward through the forest, until, after marching for about three miles, they came out upon an open plain, dappled here and there with detached groves of trees and gradually ascending towards a range of wooded hills in the distance before them. CHAPTER XXIII. THE BATTLE. And now there breathed that haunted air The sons of sires who conquered there, With arms to strike and souls to dare As quick, as far as they! · · · · · He woke to die ‘mid flame and smoke, And shout, and groan, and sabre stroke, And death shots falling thick and fast As lightning from a mountain cloud.—FITZ GREEN HALLECK. “There is our new rendezvous,” said Colonel Goldsborough, pointing to the distant range of wooded hills, where the autumn foliage was now glowing redly under the rays of the descending sun, and towards which the whole band was now moving leisurely. But they had not marched more than a mile when Mutchison, who had been riding in advance of the whole line, came suddenly galloping back to the rear with every mark of hurry and excitement. He drew rein beside his superior officer, and handed him a field-glass, saying hastily: “Colonel, look there!” “What is it?” inquired Goldsborough, raising the instrument to his eyes. “There, at our rendezvous: the cloud of dust, the smoke, and hark! there is the sound of musketry! There must be a battle going on there, Colonel!” “THERE IS!” hurriedly exclaimed Goldsborough. “Mutchison, dash forward. Send half a dozen men back to guard the prisoners, who must remain here while we join battle. Then get the band in order. Form on company front; and march! I will be with you as soon as I have provided for the safety of these!” Mutchison wheeled his horse and galloped forward, carrying with him a cloud of dust, in which he soon disappeared. Goldsborough looked around for a place of safety in which to bestow his captive bride and her clerical companion. Nothing better offered than a grove of trees, in the midst of which sparkled a cool spring, now, however, rather choked with fallen autumn leaves.