Part 43 (1/2)
”I will go along.”
”That will not be necessary.”
”All right,--please yourself. I presume I can turn him over to you immediately.”
”On the spot,” was the quiet answer; and saluting stiffly, Captain Brentford, scowling at both of the majors, withdrew, and walked rapidly along the road.
In a few words Deck told his story, Major Collins listening eagerly.
Then three men were counted off to escort the Union officer to the prisoners' camp. Among the three was the man who had been so surprised on first catching sight of Deck. Several times he was on the point of speaking to the young major, but each time he changed his mind.
The hors.e.m.e.n did not wish to spend any more time than was necessary in conveying Deck to the prisoners' camp, and so the leader told the major to mount behind him. ”It will be better nor running, and that is what you'll have to do if you remain on foot,” he said.
The course of the four riders was along a side road and past half a dozen plantations, the fields of which had been much cut up by detachments of Wheeler's cavalry, operating in that territory. The man who had Deck with him rode side by side with one of the other cavalrymen, while the fellow who seemed to have recognized Deck rode in the rear.
”It's hard lines, Major, but I reckon you're bound for one of our prisons right enough,” observed the leader, as they trotted along.
”Fortune of war,” said the young Union officer, as lightly as he could.
”But you don't like it?”
”To be sure not.”
”Married?”
”No.”
”That's one consolation--if you die on our hands,” and the man laughed at what he considered a joke.
”I shan't die on your hands, if I can help it.”
”Oh, I suppose--But I've heard a good many of 'em do die; can't stand this balmy Southern air.”
”I think it is more likely they can't stand your poor food and foul prisons.”
”Our prisons are about as good as those up North, I reckon, Major. I had a cousin die up in New York somewhere--Elmira I think they called the lock-up. Reckon he was about starved.”
”I trust you are mistaken. It would not be fair to starve anybody on either side.”
At this the leader of the Confederate detachment grunted, and said no more. But presently he grew tired of his load and turned to the man riding in the rear.
”Tom, supposin' you take the prisoner for a while?” he observed.
”Just as you say, Messinger. Is he bound tight?”
”Tight enough, I reckon.”
”All right, come right along,” said the man in the rear, and happy to think he might continue to ride instead of walk, Deck transferred himself from the rear of one horse to the rear of the other.
The man in front of him had spoken in a hoa.r.s.e voice, as if he was suffering from a cold, yet the voice appeared to be more or less familiar. Deck tried, after mounting, to get a view of the cavalryman's face, but it was kept away from him.