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Updated: June 25, 2025
The lieutenant saw with intense regret that this man was Sergeant Fronklyn; but he was apparently only stunned partially by the bullet, for he sprang to his feet with the aid of a comrade, though his horse had gone with the forward movement of the platoon, and was out of his reach.
"I can see the steamer plainly enough now," said Fronklyn. "It looks as though ropes had been passed from the top of the banks down to the vessel." "Very likely those are to assist the officers and privates to descend to her; and I wish we had a rope here to help us along," added Deck. "But do you see the small boat hitched to the stern of the steamer?"
Sergeant Fronklyn, though wounded himself, had strength enough to drag his officer to one side of the platoon, so that his form might not be crushed by the advance of horses' feet. The troopers had seen the fall of the lieutenant, and naturally enough, supposing that he was killed, were excited to new fury by the disaster, and rushed upon the enemy, who were crowding them on both sides.
It was a board about ten feet long, and not more than six inches wide, and had probably been dropped from the camp above. The sergeant laid it down, and then seated himself upon it, Deck following his example. "We may come to gullies made by the rain, and this board will help us in crossing them. I had nearly lost my balance in getting over one of them," added Fronklyn.
"I believe I can take care of myself; and I think these ruffians have put themselves just where we want them," said Fronklyn, recalling the strategy at Mr. Halliburn's mansion. Warren left the cellar by the same way they had entered, and made his way around the out-buildings to the avenue.
"Who are you?" he inquired; for it was too dark by this time for him to see anything distinctly. "I am Sergeant Fronklyn," replied his attentive nurse. "Don't you know me, Lieutenant Lyon?" "I should know you if I could see your face," replied Deck with a stronger voice. "It is becoming rather dark about here. Have you any pain, Lieutenant?" inquired the sergeant.
"I don't think it is prudent to go up and attack the ruffians," replied Deck. "But I think that something can be done from the outside," suggested Fronklyn. "What?" asked Deck. "I don't know." "I will go out and see if anything can be done.
He kept his seat in the stern-sheets, as Fronklyn did in the forward part of the boat, which was still abreast of the camp, but well under the high bank of the stream. The enterprise was a success so far, and they were so well pleased to escape from the immediate vicinity of the enemy that they were not disposed to do anything but rest themselves.
"The tender is so happy to get out of Confederate hands that it wants to dance, and it is indulging in a waltz," replied Deck as another pleasantry. "I wish it wouldn't do so, for I don't like the motion. I suppose you don't intend to continue this voyage down to New Orleans; for that would not be a more agreeable locality than the Beech Grove intrenchments," added Fronklyn.
When it had gone to a safe distance, Deck seated himself in the stern-sheets, and put his board in the scull-hole, and forced the boat to the shore, though not without a great deal of difficulty and labor. Fronklyn was on the lookout for it, and sprang lightly into the fore-sheets, making a spring on his board stick. The current took the boat, and no further exertion was necessary.
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