The fresh air that brushed by us, like fine steel points, relieved me of my oozing faintness, and in the ease of my circumstances I could attend somewhat to my bruises. With the aid of my canteen, I relaxed the strained muscles. It was my desire to have my loins girt about and my limbs in good order for the foot-journey that I doubted not was before us. They would march us to Gordonsville, and thence to Libby, carrying us through in an incredibly short time, and without boots at that. I had two objects to labor for, as I began to get myself into condition: first, to be taken in charge by an officer; and then--to escape from him that night, whilst the train was in disorder. I was of opinion that my companion, a taciturn machine, who labored, like the miners, well with his little light, had some such plan of his own, as I saw him buckling his belt beneath his trousers. He was stowing away his watch and a photograph,--which every soldier must have, of some poor maid or other who toils in the shades of obscurity at home,--and making himself ready for a run at any favorable moment. I thought that I would sound him. "You had better do it, orderly, soon in the day," I said; "since the enemy will march you between two files, and you will then have but little chance." "So I think," he replied. "I thought no time better than now. But then"---- "But what?" I asked. "Well, it's rather hard to leave you here. What with your sprain, and your blow on the head, you're pretty sure to halt at Libby." I had no chance to answer, for the Rebel was before me who was to have the honor of my capture.