three o'clock in the
morning
Fancher stood far a moment , his rain-smeared lantern hanging motionless at his side . `` Tarleton may not ride tonight , '' he said , and moved off a step or two ; then , turning : `` But , damn him , I think he will , '' said he . And walked away , swinging his light as furiously as a panther thrashes his tail . By the pointers of my watch it now approached three o'clock in the morning , and the storm was nothing abating . I had entirely despaired of the Sagamore 's coming , and was beginning to consider the sorry pickle which this alarm must leave us in if Tarleton 's Legion came upon us now ; and that with our widely scattered handfuls we could only pull foot and await another day to find our Sagamore ; when , of a sudden there came a-creeping through the darkness , out o ' the very maw of the storm , a slender shape , wrapped to the eyes in a ragged scarlet cape . I knew her ; but I do not know how I knew her . `` It is you ! ''