He moved off, evidently glad enough to be relieved, and I stood erect where I could gaze out through the near-by window into the moonlight night without. I had a moment in which to think, to gather my scattered wits together, to face the situation. Behind me the tramp of approaching horsemen sounded along the pike, the gruff tone of an occasional voice, the clang of accoutrements. Then this noise ceased, as the head of the cavalry column came up to where Cowan and his men waited. I could barely make out the murmur of voices in explanation, muffled by the sound of approaching wheels, signifying the slower advance of the guarded wagons. I heard no orders given, yet the moonlight revealed more numerous figures in the thin line stretching across the open space.
"Thar's sojers out thar now, sir," whispered the man next the window, fingering his gun nervously, "a slew of 'em. Do yer know how many they got?"
"Only to guess at it: a couple of hundred altogether I should say—enough to make it interesting."
I leaned forward, attracted by the sight of two figures standing together in the full gleam of the moon—Cowan and Raymond. So they were to command the rear attack, while Fox and the infantryman remained out in front.
