There was a guard stationed before the stable door--a Grenadier, from the outline of his hat--and others, a little group, were sitting on the grass a dozen feet away.

If they had not been already warned I might gain a horse by boldness, but the probability was that here was where Carter had mounted his squad, and I would merely walk forward into a trap.

I had better chance the possibility that some visitor had left a horse tied in front, or to one of the stands.

With this possibility in mind I turned, and skirted the house, making myself as inconspicuous as possible.

There were soldiers on the outside steps; I heard their voices without seeing them, and was thus driven to run swiftly across an open space, memory guiding me toward the opposite pavilion.