I caught the word "Cumberland," but whatever else of explanation may have been uttered failed to reach my ears, muffled as they were beneath the canvas.

A few hundred yards beyond this point, at the end of a deep cut, the officer drew up his horse sharply, leaned over the wheel, and shook hands with the person inside.
"I have attained my limit," he said.

"That was our last picket-post back yonder, and my orders were strict.

You know the road, of course." "Perfectly, Lieutenant," responded a low voice, muffled under the hood.
"I have travelled it often before.

I thank you so much, and think it will all come out right this time." "I have no doubt of that," he replied, with a little laugh.