The tramp, tramp of her steed she thought was as loud as
thunder, and felt sure that thus she would be betrayed. The agitation
of the underbrush caused by the wind seemed to her to denote the
presence of a concealed enemy. She momentarily expected a "Yank" to
step from behind a tree and seize her bridle. As she rushed along,
hanging branches (which at another time she would have stooped to
avoid) severely scratched her face and dishevelled her hair; but never
heeding, she urged on old Whitey until he really seemed to become
inspired with the spirit of the occasion, to regain his youthful fire,
and so dashed on until at length Sally drew rein at the bars of the
horse-lot, where the objects of her solicitude were quietly grazing,
with the exception of Green Persimmon, who seemed to be playing a
series of undignified capers for the amusement of her elders. To catch
these was a work of time: Sally looked on in an agony of impatience.
But, fortunately, a neighbor rode up just then with the news that for
some unknown reason the Federal soldiers had, after halting awhile
just beyond the forks of the road, marched back to the river and were
recrossing.
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