Although it was so late, the rebel commander, too full of anxious and
brooding thoughts to sleep, was still sitting before the smouldering
fire in the kitchen chimney when Reuben staggered in.
"Reub," he cried, starting up as he recognized his brother, "what's
the matter? Has anything happened at home?"
"Nothing bad. I've brought you news. Have you got some rum? I'm pretty
tired."
Perez found a demijohn, poured out a mug, and watched his brother with
anxious eyes as he gulped it down. Presently, a little color came back
to his white face, and he said:
"Now I feel better. It was a hard road. I felt like giving out once or
twice. But I'm all right now."
"What made you come, Reub? You're not strong yet. It might have killed
you."
"I had to, Perez. It was life or death for you. The army at
Stockbridge are going to surprise you at sunrise. I came to warn you.
Desire Edwards brought us word."
"What!" exclaimed Perez, his face aglow. "She brought you word? Do you
mean that?"
"Jess hole on, and I'll tell you how it was," said Reub, with a manner
almost as full of enthusiasm as his brother's. "It was nigh bedtime,
and we were setting afore the fire a talking 'bout you, and a hopin
you'd get over the line into York; when the door opened, an in come
Desire Edwards, all dressed up in a shiny gaown, an her hair fixed, an
everything like as to a weddin.
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