62. CHAPTER LXII.
BLOUNT'S HEAD-QUARTERS.
Randolph had not proceeded far before he encountered
Captain Fink of the Scouts. The Captain brought the important
intelligence that, although Sir Charles Hunt occupied
an exposed position on the south side of the Potomac,
he was nevertheless within reach of succor. The head of
a heavy column of the enemy had passed over the bridge
at Georgetown; and General Line, with his Western host,
had ascended the river to the Little Falls, and would pass
the bridge at that place early in the morning.
The President rode on, musing in silence.
When he reached the mansion occupied by Blount and
Crook, he was met by the latter at the threshold.
“I have waited and watched for you,” said Crook, in a
half whisper. “We have terrible news from the city,
brought by deserters and—”
“I suppose you refer to the bloody work of the guillotine?”
said Randolph.
“But—but the—”
“Senator who was decapitated. You mean the elder
Blount?”
“The same! It has been communicated to you then?”
“Yes, but where is the General?”
“He sleeps.”
“Then he has not been informed of the butchery?”
“No. None had the heart to tell him, and I resolved
not to communicate the news until your arrival.”
“You have done well, General. Why should he be disturbed?
Let him sleep on. Soon enough these evil tidings
will pierce his ear. And it is not, perhaps, on the eve of
battle that such an announcement should be made. Let us
all seek repose.”
“I have no objection,” said Crook, “and, indeed, I have
lost a great deal of rest lately, and will be the better for an
hour's slumber. But you, they say, never sleep.”
“It is a mistake; and even now a drowsiness weighs
upon my eyelids. I will share your couch, with your permission.”
“You shall have all of it. I have made a vow never to
sleep in a feather bed again until after the expulsion of the
enemy from the South. I shall sleep on the floor in my
cloak. But come with me and see how calmly poor Blount
is slumbering.”
They entered the chamber. By the steady but diminutive
rays of a lamp, they beheld the form of Blount steeped
in profound slumber. He breathed as softly as an infant.
His manly brow was unclouded, and a gentle smile rested
on his lip. Randolph and Crook, the one on a bed, the
other on the hard floor, reclined their weary limbs without
disturbing the slumberer.
