From my position I could hear trains moving, in my rear, but for half the night Jones reported nothing.  He could understand, of course, that I could hear the trains.  Rain had set in at nightfall.

About an hour after midnight I heard troops marching north up the road.  I crept up nearer, and, although it was dark and raining, I could make out that they were cavalry—­perhaps as many as a company.  I concluded that the rebels were to the north of us, that is to say, that if they had moved at all, they were yet between us and Hanover Court-House.

After the cavalry had passed, I thought the situation very much more definite.  I went to Frank, and directed him to call in Jones.  The three of us then made north, through the woods, leading our horses.  We had a hard time.  The woods were wet, the branches of the trees struck our faces.  There was hardly enough light to see the trunks of the trees.  At last we reached an opening through which I feared to advance.

We could see no light from camp-fires in any direction.  The rebels were yet far to the north, but their cavalry patrols might be anywhere—­might be upon us at any moment.

Giving Frank my bridle, I crept up to the road, and was glad to find that the woods on the east side of it extended on toward the north.  I returned to my comrades and together we crossed the road and continued north in the woods on the east side for perhaps half a mile.  It was now nearly day, and still raining.  In the wet woods on this dark night there was little fear of encountering any enemy; their cavalry pickets would be in the roads.

I believed that Hanover Court-House was less than five miles from us, and that if Branch’s camp had been moved southward, we ought soon to see the light of his camp-fires.

Again there was an open field, with a descending slope ahead of us.  I directed Jones to mount and follow me, while Frank should halt, with his horse and mine to guard, at the top of the hill.  I went forward on foot, Jones riding some ten paces in my rear.  At the bottom of the hill I found a small stream.  Bidding Jones return to Frank and bring him and all the horses up to the branch, I went up the next hill, still in the open.  At the top of the hill I found a straggling thicket of small pines, not more than a hundred feet in width; from the far side of this thicket I saw more open ground before me.  I went back, hoping to find my comrades at the branch.  As I went down the hill I heard them coming down the opposite slope.  They seemed to be making a great noise.  One of the horses struck fire with his shoe against a stone.  I was greatly alarmed, and decided at once to occupy the thicket of pines until daylight.

The horses were tied, and Frank was left to guard them and keep them from making a noise.  Jones was directed to scout to the left as far as the road, and to return and examine the ground to our right for a few hundred yards; while he was engaged in this work I went forward nearly half a mile, going first over open ground, then through a thick but narrow skirt of woods, and coming out upon a hill from which I could see through the rain a dim light which I supposed was caused by camp-fires.  A train of cars rumbled at my left, at a considerable distance—­perhaps more than a mile away.