“Mounted?”

“Yes, sir; and with a led saddle horse and three days’ rations and corn—­or oats would be better.  Let him come armed.”

“Very well, Berwick.  Is that all?”

“Yes, sir; I think that will do.  I suppose the man will know the road to Old Church.”

“If not, I will send a guide along.  Now, Berwick, good night, and good luck.  You have my thanks, and you shall have more if your success will justify it.”

“Good night, General.  I will do my best.”

* * * * *

Dr. Khayme argued that I should not make this venture in disguise, and I had great doubt what to do; however, I at last compromised matters by deciding to take the Confederate uniform to be used in case I should need it.  A thought occurred to me:  “Doctor,” said I, “these palmetto buttons might prove a bad thing.  Suppose I should get into a brigade of Georgians occupying some position where there are no other troops; what would a Carolinian be doing amongst them?”

“I have provided for that,” said the Doctor; “you see that these buttons are fastened with rings; here are others that are smooth:  all you have to do is to change when you wish—­it takes but a few moments.  However, nobody would notice your buttons unless you should be within six feet of him and in broad daylight.”

“Yet I think it would be better to change now,” said I; “there are more Confederates than Carolinians.”

The Doctor assented, and we made the change.  I put the palmetto buttons into my haversack.

Before I slept everything had been prepared for the journey.  I studied the map carefully and left it with the Doctor.  The gray clothing was wrapped in a gum-blanket, to be strapped to the saddle.  My escort was expected to provide for everything else.  I decided to wear a black soft hat of the Doctor’s, whose head was as big as mine, although he weighed about half as much as I did.  My own shoes were coarse enough, and of no peculiar make.  In my pockets I put nothing except a knife, some Confederate money, some silver coin, and a ten-dollar note of the bank of Hamburg, South Carolina—­a note which Dr. Khayme possessed and which he insisted on my taking.  There would be nothing on me to show that I was a Union soldier, except my uniform.  I would go unarmed.

Before daylight I was aroused.  My man was waiting for me outside the tent.  I intended to slip out without disturbing the Doctor, but he was already awake.  He pressed my hand, but said not a word.

The man and I mounted and took the road, he leading.

“Do you know the way to Old Church?” I asked.

“Yes, sir,” said he.

“What is your name?”

“Jones, sir; don’t you know me?”

“What?  My friend of the black horse?”

“Yes, sir.”

“But I believe you are in blue this time.”

“Yes; I got no orders.”

I was glad to have Jones; he was a self-reliant man, I had already had occasion to know.