CHAPTER VII
NEWS FOR ROSECRANS
I HAD ample time in which to reflect over all these occurrences as I urged my willing horse back along the valley road. The rest and the slow walk had revived the jaded muscles of us both, and the roan started off at a brisk trot the moment I swung into the saddle. I felt perfectly safe, so far as Jean Denslow was concerned. She certainly could no longer ride, and, to the best of my knowledge, there was no one at Fairview who could be trusted to depart westward with any message of warning to the Confederate commander. The girl herself would certainly never give up the effort quietly, and somehow I continued to feel that back of her womanly gentleness there was a firm purpose, and some well-defined plan. Yet what could she do? The possibility of her accomplishing anything in her present condition appeared so remote that I finally dismissed it entirely from my mind. As for myself, I intended following the east road at least as far as the ford at Coulter's Landing. Once safely beyond the river, I could soon find my way into the protection of the Federal lines.
I rode with sufficient caution, yet as rapidly as the condition of the roan would warrant. The night remained densely black, but I had learned to feel confident in my
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