I glanced at the horses: they were covered with foam and mud. I looked at Mr. Hurt: his face had suddenly grown very serious. "Did Edward Ashby see them himself?" he asked, in a low tone. "Yes!" "And he told you himself?" "Yes!" "Then, captain," he said, turning to me, "it is so." There was a moment of dreary silence. "How long were they passing Mr. Ashby's?" I asked. "Three hours." "Which way were they going?" "Toward Paris." "How far is it from Caledonia to Paris?" "Twelve miles." I knew that three thousand was a reasonable estimate. I also knew they must have heard of our whereabout, and that a party might be coming up the road at any moment; yet I ventured one more question: "What troops did they say they were?" "Jeff. Thompson's." "Jeff. Thompson's! That is very strange. Where did they say they were going?" "They said they'd come for provisions and Union men." This answer completed the distress of those around me. The cousin looked toward the woods; the little schoolmaster asked if he might not stay with his child just this one night? Mr. Hurt said that he meant to risk it till morning, while his wife said that he must fly at once: they might burn the house, but they would not hurt women and children, and she was not afraid. I shook hands hastily with them, and hoped that we might meet again. I told my vidette to gallop up the road and tell the men to mount, but to say not a word of the reason why. And then I followed as rapidly as I could, and with many glances over my shoulder, wondering that the enemy's advance was not already upon us. It was not half a mile to the barnyards, but the way seemed endless, until a turn in the road showed me the men mounting, and Bischoff coming to meet me with my horse. In a moment more I was mounted, and had sent a messenger, on a gallop, to the major, while the rest of us followed at a less rapid gait. Arriving at Irving's farm, where the main body had halted for the night, I found all as quiet as though nothing could happen. The horses were unsaddled, the men reposing, and the major had gone to a farm a mile distant. I ordered my own men to saddle up, and galloped after him. We rode back to Irving's, and held a consultation with the other officers, the result of which was that he took an escort and went down the road to see Mr. Hurt; while I was to wait till ten o'clock, and, if he did not return by that time, to retreat northwardly to the little town of Dresden. I went into the house, and talked to the ladies of the family. They were wealthy secessionists, and it was advisable to conceal, so far as possible, our movements. As ten o'clock approached, I slipped out, and ordered the men to mount and be perfectly still. Then, returning, I said to the ladies, that they must not feel alarmed if they heard our pickets and guards during the night, and, bidding them good evening, went out. I saw, dimly, the men drawn up in line. "Bischoff," I called, in a suppressed tone, "where are you?"