“At least he bore off a prisoner from you. It was a lady, captured by Colonel Mohun, one night on the Rappahannock.” “Ah! Is it possible! So Swartz was the old countryman, driving the wagon that morning.” “So he informed me, general.” “You are friends, then?” “Close friends.” And Mr. Nighthawk smiled. “We have an agreement--but that would not interest you, general. That was really Swartz, and the old woman was the prisoner.” “Well,” said Stuart, “that was a bold stroke, but the lady was handsome enough to make friends. There is something between herself and Colonel Mohun, is there not?” Mr. Nighthawk glanced quickly at the face of the general. His eyes resembled steel points, but the piercing glance at once sank. “Something between them, general? What could have made you think that? But here is Major McClellan. I will not detain you, general; I will come back at daylight to receive your orders.” With these words, Mr. Nighthawk distributed a benignant smile, bowed in a friendly manner, and disappeared, it was difficult to say how, from the apartment. I had turned my eyes from him but an instant; when I again looked he was gone. “And now to work!” exclaimed Stuart. “We are going to fight tomorrow, Surry, since the ‘man before the battle’ has made his appearance!” XII. HOW STUART FELL BACK. At daybreak, Stuart was going at full gallop to the front. A rapid fire of skirmishers, mingled with the dull roar of cannon, indicated that Nighthawk had not been deceived. All at once the sharp-shooters were seen falling back from the woods. “Bring me a piece of artillery!” exclaimed Stuart, darting to the front. But the attack of the enemy swept all before it. Stuart was driven back, and was returning doggedly, when the gun for which he had sent, galloped up, and unlimbered in the road. It was too late. Suddenly a solid shot screamed above us; the gun was hurled from its carriage, and rolled shattered and useless in the wood; the horses were seen rearing wild with terror, and trying to kick out of the harness. Suddenly one of them leaped into the air and fell, torn in two by a second round shot. “Quick work!” said Stuart, grimly. And turning round to me, he said, pointing to a hill in rear-- “Post three pieces on that hill to rake all the roads.” The order, like the former, came too late, however. The enemy advanced in overpowering force--drove Stuart back beyond his head-quarters, where they captured the military satchel of the present writer--and still rushing forward, like a hurricane, compelled the Confederate cavalry to retire behind Goose Creek. On the high ground there, Stuart posted his artillery; opened a rapid fire; and before this storm of shell the Federal forces paused.