“He is at Five Forks, to-day, colonel.” “And Willie Davenant?” “In Richmond, on business at the war department.” “Humph! So I shall see neither--but another time.” And mounting my horse, I added:-- “Good luck, Nighthawk.” “Thank you, colonel--the same to you.” And leaving Nighthawk crouching down beside his fire, I rode on. XIII. DRINKING TEA UNDER DIFFICULTIES. Pushing on, I reached the cavalry and horse artillery, which I was soon done with--you see I dismiss “official” matters with commendable rapidity, reader--then I went on across Roney’s bridge and along the “Flat Foot road” toward Disaways. Following, amid a great wind and falling boughs, this winding road, stretching onward between its lofty walls of pines--a wild and deserted track, outside of the pickets, and completely untravelled. I recrossed Stony Creek, rode on over a bridle-path, and came just at sunset in sight of the hill upon which Disaways raised its ancient gables, near the Rowanty. My horse neighed as he cantered up, and passed under the great oaks. He seemed to feel that this was something like home to him now, and that his day’s march was over. In fact, all the months of winter I had regularly stopped at Disaways on my way to the cavalry at Hicksford. My friends had pathetically remonstrated--“there was not a single picket on the Rowanty in front of me, there, and I would certainly be captured some day,”--but I had persisted in stopping there still, on every tour which I made. How to resist the temptation! Disaways was just thirty miles from Petersburg. I always reached its vicinity as night fell, on the dark winter days. I was always cold, hungry, weary, depressed by the dull gray skies; and I knew what awaited me there--a blazing fire, a good supper, and Katy’s smiles brighter than sunshine! She always ran to greet me, with both hands extended. Her blue eyes danced with joy, her rosy cheeks glowed, her lips laughed, and were like carnations, her golden ringlets fell in a shower over her white and delicate temples, or were blown back in ripples by the wintry wind. Could you have resisted that, my dear reader? Would you have shrunk from Yankee scouting parties? For my part I thought I would risk it. I might be surprised and captured at any moment--the territory was open to the enemy--but I would have had a charming evening, would have been cheered by Katy’s sunshine--while I was alive and free, I would have lived, and in a manner the most delightful! Hitherto some angel had watched over me, and Disaways had been unvisited by the enemy’s scouting parties, without so much as a vedette at the Halifax bridge, within half a mile. I had sat by the fire, eaten countless suppers, laughed and conversed with my good friends, slept soundly in a _real bed_, and gone on my way in the morning rejoicing.