AN UNEXPECTED PREDICAMENT
"To hell with your regrets," he swore roughly. "Do you mean to tell me that you know what our plans of operation are?"
"I know enough of them, at least, to make me particularly anxious to get away. Now stop that. Lieutenant; not another move; doubtless you know what this derringer contains; I will assuredly use it if necessary, and it feels to me like a hair-trigger. Put out your hands; no, hold them close together—so."
The utter uselessness of resistance was very plain, and, reckless as the fellow might have proven if opportunity served, he realized now clearly enough that death would probably be the penalty of refusal. I did a good job of lashing, thoroughly aware that if he once escaped, and succeeded in raising an alarm before morning, I was the one who would suffer. I greatly disliked gagging him, yet at any moment the belated orderly might ride past, and a single cry from the Lieutenant would mean release and pursuit.
The horse waited patiently, his nostrils still thrust down in the cool running water, his rein trailing. I turned him about, as I must ride directly past the Denslow plantation in my effort to escape, owing to the massing of troops to the westward. If I could rely on the word of the Lieutenant, all pickets had already been recalled from the opposite direction, and I would discover clear passage, although this might prove the long way round. I led the horse slowly forward, moving as noiselessly as possible along the turf by the side of the road, hoping thus to steal past beneath the concealing shadows of the trees. The
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