The keen
air was as stimulating as wine, and he put his horse to the gallop and
rode ahead to shake up his blood.
"It is good," said the stolid cavalryman, as Armitage wheeled again into
line with him.
"Yes, it is good," repeated Armitage.
A peace descended upon him that he had not known in many days. The light
grew as the sun rose higher, blazing upon them like a brazen target
through deep clefts in the mountains. The morning mists retreated before
them to farther ridges and peaks, and the beautiful gray-blue of the
Virginia hills delighted Armitage's eyes. The region was very wild. Here
and there from some mountaineer's cabin a light penciling of smoke stole
upward. They once passed a boy driving a yoke of steers. After several
miles the road, that had hung midway of the rough hill, dipped down
sharply, and they came out into another and broader valley, where there
were tilled farms, and a little settlement, with a blacksmith shop and a
country store, post-office and inn combined. The storekeeper stood in the
door, smoking a cob pipe. Seeing Oscar, he went inside and brought out
some letters and newspapers, which he delivered in silence.
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