At about half after six that night, (I had made the Sergeant take my watch, which otherwise I should surely be robbed of, I told him; and he gave me the time,)--at about half after six, two officers came riding furiously up to our mild officer and kept along with him for awhile, making three dim figures above our heads (they only were mounted) in the forest shades, in place of the one that, unlike the erl-king, had continued on his way harmlessly from our outset. Their consultation over, the two strangers dashed over snapping weeds and underbrush to the command on ahead, and our mild officer ordered our column (of prisoners) to halt. We were in the woods still, but we had emerged from between those sun-spanned embankments some time since. The ground was ill chosen by our gentle ruler, but he may have depended much upon his men, whose vigilance, no doubt, he had before tried in the fall of day. They seemed to me but a handful, and only a sieve for their charge to dribble through, the latter aided by the time and place in their work of dropping off. I drew closer to the Adjutant. "Say what you have to say for home, in case we miss," I said,--and in the confusion of the halt I could talk rather freely. "Your time has come now." "You will write, if I'm not heard from,--and--my love to my"--he gurgled. "Yes, yes," I said, cheerily. "All right, old fellow,--we'll both laugh over this, some day." I gave him a moment. "You'll do me the same favor, if I don't happen to turn up," I said; and we seized each other's hands. "You have the compass,--you know the way. There is nothing more, I believe, Ned?" I said, hastily, and looked into his eyes. "I shall watch my chance as the wagons pass; there is nothing more," he replied; and we parted immediately. It was as if we had agreed to toss pennies for the guillotine. I had no time to think further of him, for my own plans were maturing.