"
The former part of the request was promptly complied with, and a few
moments brought the surgeon in full view of a man armed with a musket,
who was crossing the road, and evidently seeking the protection of the
thick wood on its opposite side.
"Stop, my friend--stop until Captain Lawton comes up, if you please,"
cried the surgeon, observing him to flee with a rapidity that baffled
his horsemanship. But as if the invitation contained new terrors, the
footman redoubled his efforts, nor paused even to breathe, until he had
reached his goal, when, turning on his heel, he discharged his musket
towards the surgeon, and was out of sight in an instant. To gain the
highway, and throw himself into his saddle, detained Lawton but a
moment, and he rode to the side of his comrade just as the figure
disappeared.
"Which way has he fled?" cried the trooper.
"John," said the surgeon, "am I not a noncombatant?"
"Whither has the rascal fled?" cried Lawton, impatiently.
"Where you cannot follow--into that wood. But I repeat, John, am I not
a noncombatant?"
The disappointed trooper, perceiving that his enemy had escaped him, now
turned his eyes, which were flashing with anger, upon his comrade, and
gradually his muscles lost their rigid compression, his brow relaxed,
and his look changed from its fierce expression, to the covert laughter
which so often distinguished his countenance.
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