We had arrived within a mile of Nelson’s Ferry, and it was yet night. Unless some unfortunate accident occurred at the last moment, there would soon be an opportunity of learning whether the cream of the British army would hold firm under such a surprise as we might be able to give them. The purpose of the halt was not to reconnoitre, as I had at first supposed, but in order that a squad might be detached from our small force to gain possession of the road in the swamp at the point known as Horse Creek, while we were to attack the main body in the rear. The scouts had been sent ahead half an hour before my awakening, and now came back with the report that the prisoners had arrived, the enemy being yet encamped on the east bank of the creek, not having made an attempt to cross in the darkness. Once more would General Marion have a chance to execute his favorite manœuvre, the only one by which he could hope to win while the odds were so heavily against him. Twenty minutes or more were spent in waiting for the detachment to get into position at Horse Creek, when the advance was resumed, this time at a slow pace, lest the tread of our horses upon the road should give the alarm. Despite the fact that I knew full well we would soon be engaged in a deadly encounter, slumber weighed heavily upon my eyelids, and it was only with difficulty I could prevent them from closing. Rather like one in a dream, than a lad who burned to give his life for the Cause, I held myself in the saddle, and it seemed as if no more than ten minutes had elapsed when we were halted again, this time so near the enemy that the gleam of his camp-fires could be seen. General Marion’s force was about to be hurled upon the best men in the king’s army, as we knew full well, through the report given by those men who had accompanied Jacob Breen and his comrades, for they told us that the Prince of Wales’s Regiment and a portion of the Sixty-third had been selected to conduct the prisoners. Therefore was it reasonable to suppose that there were considerably more than three hundred men to be encountered. We who knew little or nothing of military tactics, we who were mounted upon jaded steeds, and half-stupefied through lack of sleep, were to charge a camp of well-armed men, most likely in the best possible condition, and if the end for us of the Southern Colonies was near, it seemed as if this was indeed the last moment on earth. CHAPTER VIII THE PRISONERS There was no hope in my mind, as we stood ready to begin the attack upon the redcoats who guarded the prisoners, that we might be successful, and I fancied from his silence that Gabriel Marion had much the same idea as I.