“Do I need a pass?”

“Yes; here is a paper that may hang you if you are caught by the Confederates; use it to go through your lines, and then destroy it; I want you to get back again.  If you should be captured, a pass would betray you; if your men got you and will not let you go, it will not be difficult to explain at headquarters.”

“I suppose you have already explained at headquarters?”

“Don’t ask questions.  Now you must sit down and eat; you don’t know when you will get another meal.”

At dusk I started.  My purpose was to avoid our own pickets and reach before dawn a point opposite the right of the rebel line, which was believed to rest on James River, near or at Mulberry Island, or Mulberry Point; I would then watch for opportunities, and act accordingly, with the view of following up the rebel line, or as near to it as possible.

I took no gun or anything whatever to burden me.  I was soon outside the guard line of the camp.  My way at first was almost due north by the Young’s Mill road.  Darkness quickly came, and I was glad of it.  The stars gave me enough light.  My road was good, level, sandy—­a lane between two rail fences almost hidden with vines and briers.  At my left and behind me I could hear the roar of the surf.

When I had gone some two miles, I thought I hoard noises ahead, I stopped, and put my ear to the ground.  Cavalry.  Were they our men, or rebels?  I did not want to be seen by either.  I slipped into a fence corner.  A squad rode by, going toward Hampton, no doubt.  I waited until they had passed out of sight, and then rose to continue my tramp, when suddenly, before I had made a step, another horseman rode by, following the others.  If he had looked in my direction, he would have seen me; but he passed on with his head straight to the front.  I supposed that this last man was on duty as the rear of the squad.

Now I tore up my pass into little bits and tossed them away.  The party of cavalry which, had passed me, I believed, were our patrol, and that I should find no more of our men; so I was now extremely cautious in going forward, not knowing how soon I might run against some scouting party of the rebels.

The road soon diverged far from the shore; the ground was sandy and mostly level; and in many places covered with, a thick, small growth.  The imperfect light gave me no extended vision, but from studying the map before I had set out I had some idea of the general character of the country at my right, as well as a pretty accurate notion of the distance I must make before I should come near to the first rebel post; though, of course, I could not know that such post had not been abandoned, or advanced even, within the last few hours.

I went on, then, keeping a sharp lookout to right and left and straight ahead, and every now and then stopping to listen.  My senses were alert; I thought of nothing but my present purposes; I felt that I was alone and dependent upon myself, but the feeling was not greatly oppressive.