Evidently the horseman
behind him knew that he had turned aside, and was waiting and watching.
He was surely an enemy of great skill and boldness, and it was equally
sure that he was Shepard. Harry never felt a doubt that he was pursued
by the formidable Union spy, and he felt too that he had never been in
greater danger, as Shepard at such a moment would not spare his best
friend.
But he was not afraid. Danger had become so common that one looked upon
it merely as a risk. Moreover, he was never cooler or more ample of
resource. He dismounted softly, standing beside his horse's head,
holding the reins with one hand and a heavy pistol with the other.
He suspected that Shepard would do the same, but he believed that his
eyes and ears were the keener. The man must have been inside the
Confederate lines all the afternoon. Probably he had seen Harry riding
away, and, deftly appropriating a horse, had followed him. There was
no end to Shepard's ingenuity and daring.
Harry's horse was trained to stand still indefinitely, and the young man,
with the heavy pistol, who held the reins was also immovable. The
silence about him was so deep that Harry could hear the frogs croaking
at a distant pool.
He waited a full five minutes, and now, like the wild animals, he relied
more upon ear than eye.
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