An empty army wagon, the “U. S. A.” yet conspicuous upon its canvas cover, had been overturned and fired in front of the hospital tent to give light to the raiders. Grouped about beneath the trees, and within the glow of the flames, was a picturesque squad of horsemen, hardy, tough-looking fellows the most of them, their clothing an odd mixture of uniforms, but every man heavily armed and admirably equipped for service. Some remained mounted, lounging carelessly in their saddles, but far the larger number were on foot, their bridle-reins wound about their wrists. All alike appeared alert and ready for any emergency. How many composed the party I was unable to judge with accuracy, as they constantly came and went from out the shadows beyond the circumference of the fire. As all sounds of firing had ceased, I concluded that the work planned had been already accomplished. Undoubtedly, surprised as they were, the small Federal force left to guard this point had been quickly overwhelmed and scattered. The excitement attendant upon my release had left me for the time being utterly forgetful as to the pain of my wounds, so that weakness alone held me to the blanket upon which I had been left. The night was decidedly chilly, yet I had scarcely begun to feel its discomfort, when a man strode forward from out the nearer group and stood looking down upon me. He was a young fellow, wearing a gray artillery jacket, with high cavalry boots corning above the knees. I noticed his firm-set jaw, and a pearl-handled revolver stuck carelessly in his belt, but observed no symbol of rank about him. “Is this Captain Wayne?” he asked, not unpleasantly, I answered by an inclination of the head, and he turned at once toward the others. “Cass, bring three men over here, and carry this officer to the same wagon you did the others,” he commanded briefly. “Fix him comfortably, but be in a hurry about it.” They lifted me in the blanket, one holding tightly at either corner, and bore me tenderly out into the night. Once one of them tripped over a projecting root, and the sudden jar of his stumble shot a spasm of pain through me, which caused me to cry out even through my clinched teeth. “Pardon me, lads,” I panted, ashamed of the weakness, “but it slipped out before I could help it.” “Don't be after a mentionin' av it, yer honor,” returned a rich brogue. “Sure an me feet got so mixed oup that I wondher I didn't drap ye entoirely.” “If ye had, Clancy,” said the man named Cass, grimly, “I reckon as how the Colonel would have drapped you.”