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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/15414-8.txt b/15414-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..7cdbe80 --- /dev/null +++ b/15414-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,6244 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Littlest Rebel, by Edward Peple + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Littlest Rebel + +Author: Edward Peple + +Release Date: March 19, 2005 [EBook #15414] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE LITTLEST REBEL *** + + + + +Produced by Suzanne Lybarger, Josephine Paolucci and the +PG Online Distributed Proofreading Team. + + + + + + +The + +LITTLEST REBEL + +By + +EDWARD PEPLE + +GROSSET & DUNLAP: _Publishers_ + +NEW YORK + +Copyright, 1914 By the ESTATE OF EDWARD H. PEPLE + +ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. NO PART OF THIS BOOK MAY BE REPRODUCED IN ANY FORM +WITHOUT PERMISSION IN WRITING FROM THE PUBLISHER. + +_Printed in the United States of America_ + + + + +FOREWORD + + +The play, from which this book is written, was in no sense of the word +intended as a war drama; for war is merely its background, and always in +the center stands a lonely little child. + +War is its theme but not its purpose. War breeds hatred, horror, +pestilence and famine, yet from its tears and ashes eventually must rise +the clean white spirit of HUMANITY. + +The enmity between North and South is dead; it sleeps with the fathers +and the sons, the brothers and the lovers, who died in a cause which +each believed was just. + +Therefore this story deals, not with the right or wrong of a lost +confederacy, but with the mercy and generosity, the chivalry and +humanity which lived in the hearts of the Blue and Gray, a noble +contrast to the grim brutality of war. + + * * * * * + +The author is indebted to Mr. E.S. Moffat, who has novelized the play +directly from its text, with the exception of that portion which +appeared as a short story under the same title several years ago, +treating of Virgie in the overseer's cabin, and the endorsing of her +pass by Lieutenant-Colonel Morrison. + +EDWARD PEPLE. + + + + +THE LITTLEST REBEL + + + + +CHAPTER I + + +Young Mrs. Herbert Cary picked up her work basket and slowly crossed the +grass to a shady bench underneath the trees. She must go on with her +task of planning a dress for Virgie. But the prospect of making her +daughter something wearable out of the odds and ends of nothing was not +a happy one. In fact, she was still poking through her basket and +frowning thoughtfully when a childish voice came to her ears. + +"Yes, Virgie! Here I am. Out under the trees." + +Immediately came a sound of tumultuous feet and Miss Virginia Houston +Cary burst upon the scene. She was a tot of seven with sun touched hair +and great dark eyes whose witchery made her a piquant little fairy. In +spite of her mother's despair over her clothes Virgie was dressed, or +at least had been dressed at breakfast time, in a clean white frock, low +shoes and white stockings, although all now showed signs of strenuous +usage. Clutched to her breast as she ran up to her mother's side was +"Susan Jemima," her one beloved possession and her doll. Behind Virgie +came Sally Ann, her playmate, a slim, barefooted mulatto girl whose +faded, gingham dress hung partly in tatters, halfway between her knees +and ankles. In one of Sally Ann's hands, carried like a sword, was a +pointed stick; in the other, a long piece of blue wood-moss from which +dangled a bit of string. + +"Oh, Mother," cried the small daughter of the Carys, as she came up +flushed and excited, "what do you reckon Sally Ann and me have been +playing out in the woods!" + +"What, dear!" and Mrs. Cary's gentle hand went up to lift the hair back +from her daughter's dampened forehead. + +"_Blue Beard_!" cried Virgie, with rounded eyes. + +"Blue Beard!" echoed her mother in astonishment at this childish freak +of amusement. + +"Not really--on this hot day." + +"Um, hum," nodded Virgie emphatically. "You know he--he--he was the +terriblest old man that--that ever was. An' he had so many wifses +that--" + +"Say 'wives,' my darling. _Wives_." + +Sally Ann laughed and Virgie frowned. + +"Well, I _thought_ it was that, but Sally Ann's older'n me and she said +'wifses.'" + +"Huh," grunted Sally Ann. "Don' make no differ'nce what you call 'em, +des so he had 'em. Gor'n tell her." + +"Well, you know, Mother, Blue Beard had such a bad habit of killin' his +wives that--that some of the ladies got so they--they almost didn't like +to marry him!" + +"Gracious, what a state of affairs," cried Mrs. Cary, in well feigned +amazement at the timidity of the various Mrs. Blue Beards. "And then--" + +"Well, the last time he got married to--to another one--her name was +Mrs. Fatima. An'--an' I've been playin' _her_." + +"And who played Blue Beard?" + +"Sally Ann--an' she's just fine. Come here, Sally Ann, an' let's show +her. Kneel down." + +Clutching the piece of moss from Sally Ann, Virgie ran behind the girl +and put her chubby arms around her neck. "This is his blue beard, +Mother. Hold still, Sally Ann--_My lord_, I mean--till I get it tied in +the right place." + +"Be keerful, Miss Virgie," advised the colored girl. "You's a-ticklin' +my nose. I'se gwine to sneeze ef yo' don't, and jes blow my beard all +away." + +"Oh, don't be such a baby," remonstrated the earnest Miss Virginia, with +a correcting slap. "S'pose you were a man an' had to wear one all the +time. Now! Stand up! Look, Mother!" + +"I'm afraid of him already. He's so ferocious." + +"Isn't he? Oh, won't _you_ play with us, Mother? I'll--I'll let you be +Mrs. Fatima." And then, as her mother's face showed signs of doubt as to +her histrionic ability, "If you were _my_ little girl, I'd do it in a +minute." + +"All right, dear, of course I will; but I've just remembered a bit of +lace in your grandmother's trunk in the attic. I believe it will be +exactly enough for the neck and sleeves of your new dress." She smiled +courageously as she folded a piece of old silk she was remaking. "You +and--" she cast a glance at Sally Ann--"your respected brother-in-law +can wait a few moments, can't you? You might rehearse a little more. +With all this important audience of solemn oaks you wouldn't want to +make the slightest slip in your parts." + +"That's so," agreed Virgie, raising her hands and clasping her tiny +fingers thoughtfully. "And I'll tell you what--we'll mark off the castle +walls around the bench where the window's going to be. We ought to have +a stage. Come on Sal--I mean Blue Beard, pick up some sticks quick." + +Mrs. Cary started, but turned back an instant: "By the way, have either +of you seen Uncle Billy. I' must find him, too, and plan something for +our lunch." + +"I seen 'im early dis mawnin'," piped Blue Beard, "makin' for de woods. +I reckon he be back pres'n'y." + +"Very well," answered Virgie's mother, a shadow creeping into her face +as she went on toward the house. Could Uncle Billy possibly be leaving! +The most trusted negro of all! No--_never_! She would almost as soon +doubt the cause itself! + +Three long years ago war had seemed a thrilling, daring necessity. +Caught in the dreadful net of circumstance she had vowed proudly in her +own heart never to be less brave than the bravest. In her ears still +rang the echo of that first ... + + * * * * * + +_Tara-tara!_ + +From far away a faint fanfare of trumpets, borne on brazen wings from +the distant clamor of the city's streets. + +_Tara-tara!_ + +"What's that--a bugle?" + +_R-r-r-r-rum-dum!_ + +"And that--a drum?" + +_Tramp--tramp--tramp_--the rolling thunder of ten thousand feet. + +_War has been declared!_ + +From North to South, the marching lines fill the land--a sea of men +whose flashing bayonets glisten and glitter in the morning light. With +steady step and even rank, with thrill of brass lunged band and +screaming fife the regiments sweep by--in front, the officers on their +dancing steeds--behind them, line after line of youthful faces, chins +in, chests out, the light of victory already shining in their eyes. + +In just this way the Nation's sons went forth to fight in those first +brave days of '61. Just so they marched out, defiant, from South and +North alike, each side eager for the cause he thought was right, with +bright pennons snapping in the breeze and bugles blowing gayly and never +a thought in any man's mind but that _his_ side would win and his own +life be spared. + +And every woman, too, waving cheerful farewell to valiant lines of +marching gray or sturdy ranks of blue, had hoped the same for _her_ +side. + +But in war there is always a reckoning to pay. Always one contender +driven to the wall, his cities turned to ashes, his lands laid waste. +Always one depleted side which takes one last desperate stand in the +sight of blackened homes and outraged fields and fights on through ever +darkening days until the inevitable end is come. + +And the end of the Confederacy was now almost in sight. Three years of +fighting and the Seceding States had been cut in twain, their armies +widely separated by the Union hosts. Advancing and retreating but always +fighting, month after month, year after year the men in gray had come at +last to the bitterest period of it all--when the weakened South was +slowly breaking under the weight of her brother foes--when the two +greatest of the armies battled on Virginia soil--battled and passed to +their final muster roll. + +Of little need to tell of the privations which the pivotal state of the +Confederacy went through. If it were true that Virginia had been simply +one vast arsenal where every inhabitant had unfailingly done his part in +making war, it was also true that she had furnished many of its greatest +battlefields--and at what a frightful cost. + +Everywhere were the cruel signs of destruction and want--in scanty +larder, patched, refurbished clothing, servantless homes--in dismantled +outhouses, broken fences and neglected, brier-choked fields. Even the +staples of life were fast diminishing for every man who could shoulder +a gun had gone to fight with Lee, and few animals were left and fewer +slaves. + + * * * * * + +Yet, for all the dismal outlook, Winter had passed without actual +disaster to the Confederate arms and now that Spring had come the +plantation home of the Herbert Carys, twenty miles below Richmond, had +never had a fairer setting. White-pillared and stately the old Colonial +mansion stood on one of the low, emerald hills which roll back lazily +from the peaceful James. It was true that the flower beds had been +trampled down to ruin by alien horse and heel, but the scent of the +honeysuckle clinging to those shining pillars only seemed the sweeter +for the loss, and whatever else the forager might take, he could not rob +them of their gracious vista of hills and shimmering river. + +Across the broad driveway and up the steps of the veranda passed Mrs. +Cary, fairer than had been the flowers, a true daughter of the oldtime +South, gentle and quiet eyed, her light summer dress of the cheapest +material, yet deftly fashioned by her own fingers from slightly opened +neck, where an old brooch lay against her soft throat, down to the +dainty spotless flounces lying above her petticoat of crinoline. + +Though her lips and eyes refused to betray it even when there was no one +to see, it was with a very heavy heart that she mounted the stairs to +the attic, thinking, contriving, clutching desperately at her fading +hopes. + +For good reason the plantation was very silent on this warm spring +morning. Where only a year before dozens of soft eyed Jerseys had ranged +through the pastures and wood lots there was now no sound of tinkling +bells--one after another the fine, blooded stock had been requisitioned +by a sad faced quartermaster of the Army of Northern Virginia. And one +by one the fat porkers who had muzzled greedily among the ears from the +Cary bins and who ought to have gone into the smoke house had departed, +squealing, to furnish bone and sinew with which to repel the invader. +Saddest of all, the chicken coops down by the deserted negro quarters +were quite as empty as the once teeming cabins themselves. Poverty, grim +and relentless, had caught the Carys in its iron hand and behind +Poverty stood its far more frightening shadow--Starvation. + +But in these gloomy thoughts she was not entirely alone. All that +troubled her and more, though perhaps in a different way, passed hourly +through the old gray kinky head of Uncle Billy who happened at this very +moment to be emerging stealthily from the woods below the house. Slowly +and deliberately he made his way toward the front till he reached a +bench where he sat down under a tree to ruminate over the situation and +inspect the feathered prize which he had lately acquired by certain, +devious means known only to Uncle Billy. Wiping his forehead with his +ragged sleeve and holding the bird up by its tied feet he regarded it +with the eye of an expert, and the fatigue of one who has been sorely +put to it in order to accomplish his purpose. + +"It 'pears to me," said Uncle Billy, "dat des' when you needs 'em the +mostest the chickens goes to roosting higher 'n' higher. Rooster--I +wonder who you b'longs to. Um-_um_!" he murmured as he thoughtfully +sounded the rooster's well developed chest through the feathers. "From +de feelin' of you, my son, I 'spec' you was raise' by one er de ol'es' +fam'lies what is!" + +But Uncle Billy knew the fortunes of the Cary family far too well to +mourn over the probable toughness of his booty, and as he rose up from +the seat and meandered toward the kitchen, his old, wrinkled face broke +into a broad smile of satisfaction over the surprise he had in store. +"Well--after I done parbile you, I reckon Miss Hallie be mighty glad to +see you. Yas, _seh_!" + +But as Uncle Billy walked slowly along beside the hedge which shielded +the house on one side he heard a sound which made him halt. A young +negro, coming from the rear, had dodged behind the hedge and was trying +to keep out of his sight. + +"Hi, dar! You, Jeems Henry!" shouted Uncle Billy, instantly suspicious +of such maneuvers. "Come heh! Hear _me_! Come heh!" + +At this sudden command a young mulatto, hesitating, came through a break +in the hedge and stood looking at him, sullen and silent. In his hands +he carried a small bundle done up in a colored handkerchief and on this +guilty piece of baggage Uncle Billy's eye immediately fastened with an +angry frown. + +"Whar you gwine?" demanded Uncle Billy, with an accusing finger +trembling at the bundle. + +The younger man made no reply. + +"Hear _me_?" the elder demanded again in rising tones of severity. +"Ain't you got no tongue in yo' haid? Whar you gwine?" + +Shifting from one foot to the other the younger man finally broke away +from Uncle Billy's eye and tried to pass him by. + +"Den _I'll_ tell you whar you gwine," shouted Uncle Billy, furious at +last. "You's runnin' 'way to de Yankees, dat's whar you gwine." + +At this too truthful thrust Jeems Henry saw that further deceit would be +futile and he faced Uncle Billy with sullen resentment. + +"An' s'posin' I _is_--wat den?" + +"Den you's a thief," retorted Uncle Billy with dismayingly quick wit. +"Dat's what you is--a _thief_." + +"I _ain'_ no thief," Jeems Henry refuted stubbornly, "_I_ ain' stole +nothin'." + +"You is too," and Uncle Billy's forefinger began to shake in the +other's face. "You's stealin' a _nigger_!" + +"What dat?" and Jeems Henry's eyes opened wide with amazement. "What you +talkin' 'bout?" + +"Talkin' 'bout _you_," replied Uncle Billy, sharper than ever. "Dey say +a nigger's wuth a thousan' dollars. 'Cose _you_ ain't wuth dat much," he +said with utter disgust. "I put you down at a dollar and a quarter. But +dat ain't de p'int," and he steadily advanced on the other till their +faces were only a few inches apart. "It's dis. _You_, Jeems Henry, +belongs to Mars' Herbert Cary an' Miss Hallie; an' when you runs 'way +you's stealin'. _You's stealin yo'sef!_" + +"H'm!" sniffed Jeems Henry, now that the nature and extent of his crime +were fully understood. "Ef I ain' wuth but a dollar an' a quarter, I +suttenly ain' stealin' _much_!" + +At this smart reply Uncle Billy's disgust overcame him completely and he +tossed the rooster on the ground and clutched Jeems Henry by the arm. + +"You mighty right, you ain't!" he shouted. "An' ef I was fo' years +younger I'd take it outer yo' hide with a carriage whip. Hol' on dar," +as Jeems Henry eluded his grasp and began to move away. "Which way you +gwine? You hear me? Now den!" + +"I gwine up de river," replied Jeems Henry, badgered at last into +revealing his plan. Then, after a cautious look around,--"to +Chickahominy Swamp," he added in lower tones. + +Uncle Billy cocked his ears. Here was news indeed. + +"Chickahominy, huh! So de Yankees is up dar, is dey? An' what you think +you gwine to do when you git to 'em?" + +"Wuck 'roun de camp," replied Jeems Henry with some vagueness. + +"Doin' what?" was the relentless query. + +"Blackin' de gent'men's boots--an'--an' gittin' paid fer it," Jeems +Henry stammered in reply. "It's better'n being a slave, Unc' Billy," he +added as he saw the sneer of contempt on the faithful old man's face. +"An' ef you wan' sech a crazy ol' fool, you'd come along wid me, too." + +At this combination of temptation and insult Uncle Billy's eyes narrowed +with contempt and loathing. "Me?" he said, and a rigid arm pointed back +at the house which had been for years his source of shelter and comfort. +"Me leave Miss Hallie _now_? Right when she ain't got _nothin_'? Look +heah, nigger; dog-gone yo' skin, I got a great min' for to mash yo' +mouf. Yas, I _is_ a slave. I b'longs to Mars Cary--an' I b'longed to his +pa befo' him. Dey feed me and gimme de bes' dey got. Dey take care of me +when I'm sick--an' dey take care of me when I'm well--an' _I_ gwine to +stay right here. But you? You jes' go on wid de Yankees, an' black der +boots. Dey'll free you," and Uncle Billy's voice rose in prophetic +tones--"an you'll _keep on_ blackin' boots! Go 'long now, you low-down, +dollar-an'-a-quarter nigger!" as Jeems Henry backed away. "Go long wid +yo' _Yankee_ marsters--and git yo' freedom an' a blackin' brush." + +So engrossed were both the actors in this drama that they failed to +hear the sound of footsteps on the veranda, and it was so that the +mistress of the manor found the would-be runaway and the old slave, +glaring into each other's eyes and insulting one another volubly. + +Mrs. Cary, with her workbasket on her arm, paused at the top of the +steps and regarded the angry pair with well-bred surprise. + +"Why, Uncle Billy," she queried, "what is going on here? What _is_ the +matter?" + +"It's Jeems Henry; dat's what's de matter," said Uncle Billy, in defense +of his agitation. "He's runnin' 'way to de Yankees." + +Mrs. Cary stopped short for a moment and then came slowly down the +steps. + +"Oh, James," she said, unbelievingly. "Is this really true?" + +Jeems Henry hung his head and dug at the gravel with his toe. + +"I'm sorry," said Mrs. Cary, and the word held a world of painful +thought--of self-accusation, of hopeless regret, of sorrow for one who +could be so foolishly misguided. "I'm sorry not only for ourselves but +for _you_. You know, I promised Mammy before she died that I would look +after you--always." + +Still Jeems Henry made no answer and old Uncle Billy saw fit to make a +disclosure. + +"He's gwine up to Chickahominy." Then to Jeems Henry he added something +in low tones which made the young negro's eyes roll wildly with fear. +"Dey tells me dat der's _hants_ and _ghoses_ over dar. I hopes dey'll +git you." + +"Stop that!" commanded Mrs. Cary. "You know very well, Uncle Billy, +there are no such things as ghosts." + +"Nor'm I don't, Miss Hallie," responded Uncle Billy, sticking +tenaciously to his point, because he could plainly see Jeems Henry +wavering. "'Twas jes las' night I hear one--moanin' 'roun' de smoke +house. An' ef I ain't mighty fur wrong, she was smellin' arfter Jeems +Henry." + +At this wild fabrication, the reason for which she nevertheless +appreciated, Mrs. Cary had hard work to hold back a smile, although she +promptly reassured the terrified Jeems Henry. + +"There now--there--that will do. Nothing of that kind will trouble you, +James; you may take my word for it. If you are quite determined to go I +shall not try to keep you. But what have you in that bundle?" + +"Hi! Hi! Dat's de way to talk!" interrupted Uncle Billy, excitedly +foreseeing means to prevent Jeems Henry's departure. "What you got in +yo' bundle?" + +Jeems Henry lifted his anguished eyes and gazed truthfully at his +mistress. + +"I ain't got nothin'--what don't b'long to me, Miss Hallie." + +"I don't mean that," Mrs. Cary responded kindly. "But you have a long +tramp before you. Have you anything to eat?" + +"Nor'm, I ain't," and Jeems Henry seemed disturbed. + +"Then you'd better come around to the kitchen. We'll see what we can +find." + +At this unheard-of generosity, Uncle Billy's eyes opened widely and he +exploded in remonstrance. + +"Now, hol' on dar, Miss Hallie! Hol' on. You ain' got none too much fo' +yo'se'f, d'out stuffin' dis yere six-bit rat hole wid waffles an' +milasses." + +"_William!_" commanded his mistress. + +"Yas'm," was the meek response, and Uncle Billy subsided into silence. + +With a sigh, Mrs. Cary turned away toward the house. "Well, James, are +you coming?" + +But Jeems Henry, completely abashed before this miracle of kindness +which he did not deserve, decided that it was time for him to be a man. + +"Thank you, Miss Hallie," he gulped, "but f'um now on I reckon I gwine +take keer of myse'f." + +Mrs. Cary, pausing on the bottom step, raised her eyes heavenward in a +short prayer that children such as these might somehow be protected from +themselves. + +"Well, James," she said, when she saw there was nothing more to be done. +"I hope you'll be happy and contented. If you are not--come back to us. +Perhaps, when the war is over, you'll find things a little +more--comfortable. Good-by, James," and she held out her hand. + +But this last touch of gentleness was too much for the young mulatto. +Although he made an obedient step forward, his feelings overcame him and +with an audible snuffle and his hand over his eyes he retreated--then +turned his back and plunged through the hedge. + +Mrs. Cary sank down on the step and looked as if she, too, would like to +cry. + +Manfully, Uncle Billy came to her rescue. "Now don't you care, Miss +Hallie. He wan' no 'count for plowin' no how." + +"Oh, it isn't that, Uncle Billy," Mrs. Cary replied with a low cry of +regret. "It isn't the actual loss of help, tho' we need it, goodness +knows. But it makes me sad to see them leaving, one by one. They are +such children and so helpless--without a master hand." + +"Yas'm," agreed Uncle Billy readily. "An' de marster's han' ought to +have a hick'ry stick in it fer _dat_ nigger. Yas, bless Gawd. But you +got _me_, Miss Hallie," he announced proudly. "_I_ ain't runned away to +de blue-bellies yet." + +"No, you dear old thing," Mrs. Cary cried with laughing relief, and her +hand rested on his shoulder in a gentle caress. "I'd as soon think of +the skies falling. It is just such faithful friends as you who help me +to fight the best." + +"Um?" said Uncle Billy promptly, not quite understanding. + +"I mean a woman's battles, Uncle Billy--the _waiting_ battles--that we +fight alone." Mrs. Gary rose to her feet and turned sadly away. + +"Yas'm," agreed Uncle Billy. "I dunno what yo' talkin' 'bout but I spec' +you's right. Yas'm." + +"Dear Uncle Billy," repeated Mrs. Gary, while her eyes filled with +tears. "The most truthful--the most _honest_--" + +Mrs. Cary stopped and looked sharply at something lying on the ground +beside the steps. Then she turned and swept the old man with an accusing +glance which made him quail. + +"_William!_" she said, in awful tones. + +"Yas'm," replied Uncle Billy, feverishly. + +"What's _that_?" + +Uncle Billy immediately became the very picture of innocence and +ignorance. He looked everywhere but at the helpless rooster. + +"What's what?" he asked. "Aw, dat? Why--why, dat ain' nothin' 'tall, +Miss Hallie. Dat's--dat's des a _rooster_. Yas'm." + +Mrs. Cary came down from the steps and looked carefully at the +unfamiliar bird. No fear that she would not recognize it if it were +hers. "Whose is he?" she asked. + +"You--you mean who he b'longs to?" queried Uncle Billy, fencing for time +in which to prepare a quasi-truthful reply. "He--he don' b'long to +_nobody_. He's his _own_ rooster." + +"William!" commanded Mrs. Cary, severely. "Look at me. _Where_ did you +get him?" + +Here was a situation which Uncle Billy knew must be handled promptly, +and he picked up the rooster and made an attempt to escape. "Down on de +low grouns--dis mornin'. Dat's right," he said, as he saw dawning +unbelief in his mistress' face. "Now you have to skuse me, Miss Hallie. +I got my wuck to do." + +"One moment, William," interposed Mrs. Cary, completely unconvinced. +"You are sure he was on the low grounds?" + +"Cose I is!" asseverated Uncle Billy, meanwhile backing farther away. + +"What was he doing there?" + +Uncle Billy stammered. + +"He--he--he, he was trespassin', dat's what he was doin'--des natcherly +trespassin'." + +At this marvel of testimony, Mrs. Cary's lips relaxed in a smile and she +warned him with an upraised finger. + +"Be careful, Uncle Billy! Be careful." + +"Yas, _mar'm_" chuckled the old man. "I _had_ to be. I never would a-got +him! Oh, I's tellin' de trufe, Miss Hallie. Dis' here ol' sinner tooken +flewed off a boat what was comin' up de river. Yas'm. And he sure was +old enough to know better." + +"And you _saw_ him fly off the boat?" + +"Oh, yas'm. I seed him. I seed him," and Uncle Billy floundered for a +moment, caught in his own trap. "Dat is, not wid my own eyes. But I see +him settin' in de woods, lookin' dat lonesome and losted like, I felt +real sorry for him. Yas'm," and to prove his deep sympathy for the +unfortunate bird he stroked its breast lovingly. + +Mrs. Cary turned away to hide her laughter. "How did you catch him?" + +"How?" repeated Uncle Billy, while his ancient mind worked with unusual +rapidity. "I got down on all fo's in the thick weeds, an' cluk like a +hen. An' den ol' Mr. Rooster, he came 'long over to see ef I done laid +an aig--an' I des reach right out an' take him home to de Lawd." + +"Oh, Uncle Billy," his mistress laughed. "I'm afraid you're +incorrigible. It's a dreadful thing to doubt one's very dinner. Isn't +it?" + +"Yas'm. An' I was des 'bout to say ef you an' Miss Virgie kin worry down +de white meat, maybe den dis here bird 'll kinder git eben wid me when I +tackle his drum sticks. Yas'm," and with a final chuckle of joy over his +success the old man hobbled quickly away in the direction of the +kitchen. + +Mrs. Cary, still smiling, went back to play Mrs. Fatima to a dusky +moss-covered Blue Beard. + +"Oh goody, goody, here is Mrs. Fatima again!" and Virgie's dancing feet +seemed hardly to touch the ground. "We've just finished building the +castle. Look!" She pointed proudly to a square of twigs and leaves +around the garden seat. "Come on, Sally Ann. We can play it now and use +Mamma's keys." + +"Wait dar! Whar'd I put my s'wode?" And Sally Ann snatched up her +dangerous weapon and thrust it into a rope around her waist. "Now I'se +ready fo' killin' folks." + +"But we have to begin where Blue Beard goes away on a journey," Virgie +cried. "Susan Jemima, you sit there on the bench and clap your hands. +Get up, Mamma. Go ahead, Sally Ann!" + +"'Ooman," said Sally Ann, strutting up to her mistress and frowning +terribly. "I'se gwine away fer a night an' a day. Dese yere is de keys +to de castle." + +"Yes, sir," was the meek response. + +Sally Ann Blue Beard pointed to an imaginary door halfway between them +and where Virgie sat on the steps, wriggling with delight. "You kin look +in ev'ry room in de house--castle, I means--'cept in des dat one. +Orn'estan me? _Des dat one!_ But ef yo' looks in _dar_,--Gawd he'p you. +I gwine cut yo' haid off," and the fearful sword whizzed threateningly +through the air. "Fyarwell--fyarwell." + +"Farewell, my lord," said Mrs. Cary, and then in a whisper, as Blue +Beard stalked away to hide behind a tree. "What _do_ we do now? +_Quick_!" + +"Now I come in," cried Virgie. "I'm 'Sister Anne' that looks for the +horseman in the cloud of dust." And jumping up, the child managed to +change the tones of her voice in a surprising manner. + +"Good morning, fair sister. Blue Beard has gone away, and now we can +look in his secret room." + +"No, Sister Anne, No! I dare not," and Mrs. Fatima shrank back full of +fear from the imaginary door. "Urge me no more. I am afraid." + +"But, Mother," cried Virgie, with a little squeal of disappointment. +"You _have_ to. It's part of the play," and she led her up to the +invisible door. + +"Now look in--and when you look--drop the keys--an' we'll both scream." + +Slowly the door seemed to open and, after an instant's terrified +silence, both actresses screamed with complete success. Whereupon Mrs. +Fatima dropped to her knees and Sister Anne hugged her tight. + +"It's blood. It's the blood of his seven wives. O-o-o-e-e-e!" + +A great roar sounded in their ears. + +"Mercy! What's that?" cried the terrified Mrs. Fatima. + +"It's Blue Beard. He's coming back," whereupon Virgie immediately left +Mrs. Fatima to face her fate alone. + +Having spent a night and a day behind the tree, Blue Beard now rushed +upon the castle and roared for his wife. + +"Greeting, my lord," said the trembling Mrs. Fatima with a low curtsey +"I hope you have enjoyed your journey." + +"'Ooman," demanded Blue Beard severely. "What make you look so pale?" + +"I know not, sweet sir. Am I, then, so pale?" + +"You is! What you be'n up to sence I be'n away? Ha! What I tole you? +Look at de blood on dat key! False 'ooman, you done deceib' me. Down on +yo' marrow bones an' prepyar to die!" + +"Spare me, my lord. Spare me! I am so--" + +It was just about this time that old Uncle Billy, with a bridle in one +hand and a carriage whip in the other came slowly upon the scene. At the +sight of Sally Ann apparently about to assault his mistress the bridle +dropped from his hand and with a tight clutch on the carriage whip he +covered the intervening space at an amazing speed. + +"Hi, dar! You li'l woolly haided imp! You tech Miss Hallie wid dat ar +stick an' I bus' you wide open!" + +"Oh, stop, Uncle Billy!" cried Virgie in dismay. "We're only having a +play!" + +"Maybe you is; but I lay ef I wrop my carriage whip roun' her laig, des +oncet, she'll hop all de way to de river." + +At this dismal prospect, which seemed much truer than the play, Sally +Ann began to whimper loudly. "Miss Hallie, ef he stay here, I ain't +gwine to play." + +"Whar you git dem whiskers at?" demanded Uncle Billy. + +"Shut up!" cried Virgie. + +"I'm shuttin'," said Uncle Billy, retreating. + +Thus reassured Sally Ann continued: + +"I gwine down stairs to git my dinner When I come back, I sho' gwine +kill you. Fyar you well," and Blue Beard, making a wide circle around +the carriage whip, took himself off the scene. + +"Now, Mother," Virgie announced, "I have to watch at the castle window," +and she jumped up on the bench. + +"Sister Anne; Sister Anne, do you see anybody coming?" + +"No one, Fatima--nothing but a cloud of dust made by the wind." + +"Look again, Sister Anne. Do you see anybody coming?" + +"Oh, Fatima, Fatima. It's growing bigger." + +"Dar now," interposed Uncle Billy. "She's seem' som'pin." + +"Sister Anne! Sister Anne. And what do; you see?" + +"Dust! Dust! I see a horseman in a cloud of dust. Look! Look! He's +coming this way." By this time Virgie's acting had taken on so close a +resemblance to the real thing that both Mrs. Gary and Uncle Billy rose +to their feet in wonder. + +"He's jumped the _fence_," cried Virgie. "He's cutting across our +fields! He sees me! He's waving his hat to me!" With the last words the +child suddenly jumped down from the bench and ran through the opening in +the hedge, leaving her mother gazing after her in sudden consternation. + +"Name we Gawd! Miss Hallie," gasped Uncle Billy. "You reckon she done +brought somebody, sho' 'nuff? Hi! Hi! _I_ hear sum'-pin. It's a horse. +Lan' er Glory! Hits, _him_!" + + + + +CHAPTER II + + +Round the corner of the hedge at a swift trot came a man in the uniform +of an officer in the Confederate Army,--and Virgie was in his arms. + +Mrs. Cary gave him one look and threw out her arms. + +"Herbert!" + +The man on horseback let Virgie slide down and then dismounted like a +flash, coming to her across the little space of lawn with his whole soul +in his eyes. With his dear wife caught in his arms he could do nothing +but kiss her and hold her as if he would never again let her go. + +"Hallie," he breathed, "but it's good to see you again. It's _good_." +And so they stood for a long moment, husband and wife united after +months of separation, after dangers and terrors and privations which had +seemed as if they never would end. + +Sally Ann was one of the first to interrupt, edging up at the earliest +opportunity with her beard in her hand. "How you does, Mars' Cary? How +you fine yo'sef, seh?" + +"Why, hullo, Sally Ann!" said Cary, and put out his hand. "What on earth +is this thing?" + +Virgie ran to his side and caught his hand in hers. "We were playing +'Blue Beard,' Daddy,--an' you came just like the brother." + +"So you've been Blue Beard, have you, Sally Ann?--then I must have the +pleasure of cutting you into ribbons." Herbert Cary's shining saber +flashed half out of its scabbard and then, laughing, he slapped it back +with a clank. + +"Sally Ann," he announced, "I'm going to turn you into Sister Anne for a +while. You run up to Miss Hallie's room and sit by the window where you +can watch the road and woods. If you see anything--soldiers, I mean--" + +"Oh, Herbert!" cried his wife in anguish. + +"S-s-sh!" he whispered. "Go along, Sally Ann. If you see anyone at all +report to me at once. Understand? Off with you!" + +Uncle Billy now came forward in an effort to make his master's clothes +more presentable. + +"Heh, Mars' Cary, lemme brush you off, seh. You's fyar kivered." + +"Look out, you old rascal," Cary laughed, as his wife backed away +coughing before the cloud of fine white dust that rose under Uncle +Billy's vigorous hands. "You're choking your mistress to death. Never +mind the dust. I'll get it back in ten minutes." + +Mrs. Cary clasped her hands together at her breast with a look of +entreaty. + +"Herbert! Must you go so soon?" + +Her husband looked back at her with eyes dark with regret. + +"Yes," he said briefly. "I'm on my way to Richmond. How many horses are +there in the stable?" + +"Two--only two," was the broken response, as his wife sank down +disconsolate on a bench. "Belle and Lightfoot--we sold the others--I +_had_ to do it." + +"Yes, I know, little woman. It couldn't be helped. Here, Billy! Take my +horse and get Belle out of the stable. Lead them down to the swamp and +hide them in the cedars. Then saddle Lightfoot--bring him here and give +him some water and a measure of corn. Look sharp, Billy! Lively!" + +In the face of danger to his master Uncle Billy's response was instant. +"Yes, seh. Right away, seh," and he took Cary's lathered animal and made +off for the stables at top speed. + +Mrs. Cary looked up at her husband with a great fear written on her +face. + +"Why, Herbert dear. You--you don't mean to say that the Yankees are in +the neighborhood?" + +Immediately Cary was on the bench beside her with his arm around her, +while Virgie climbed up on the other side. + +"Now, come," he murmured, "be a brave little woman and don't be alarmed. +It may be nothing after all. Only--there are several foraging +parties--small ones, a few miles down the river. I've been dodging them +all morning. If they come at all they won't trouble either you or +Virgie." + +"But _I'm_ not afraid of them, Daddy-man," cried the small daughter, +and she doubled up her fist ferociously. "Look at _that_." + +"Aha! There's a brave little Rebel," her father cried as he swept her up +in a hearty hug. "_You're_ not afraid of them,--nor you either, God +bless you," and his lips rested for a moment on his wife's soft cheek. +"Only, you are apt to be a little too haughty. If they search the house +for arms or stragglers, make no resistance. It's best." + +"Yes, yes, I know," his wife cried out, "but you, dear, _you_! Why are +you here? Why aren't you with your company?" + +Cary looked away for a moment across the fields and down the slope +towards the shimmering river. They were very beautiful--he wondered why +he had not fully realized all that wife and child and home meant to him +when he volunteered recently for a certain hazardous duty. He knew, too, +how quickly his dear wife would know the full extent of the peril with +which he felt himself surrounded. And so his reply was short and +seemingly gruff, as many another man's has been under too heavy +circumstances. + +"Scouting duty. I've been on it for the past two months." + +Mrs. Cary's hand went to her heart. + +"A _scout_, Herbert! But, darling, why? It's so dangerous--so +horrible--so--" + +He put up his hand, with a forced smile, to check her, and broke in +gayly. + +"Ah, but think of the fun in it. It's like playing hide-and-go-seek with +Virgie." + +But his wife was not to be put off so lightly and she put her impelling +hands on his arm. + +Gary changed his tone. His voice deepened. + +"They need me, dear," he said earnestly. "What does danger to one man +mean when Dixie calls us all? And I'm doing work--good work. I've +already given one battle to General Lee and now I have information that +will give him another and a bigger one. Two nights ago I came through +the Union lines. I ..." + +Mrs. Cary rose unsteadily to her feet. + +"Through the Yankee lines! Oh, Herbert. _Not as a spy!_" + +"A spy? Of course not. I hid in the woods all day, then climbed a tall +pine tree and got the lay of their camp--the number of their guns--the +disposition of forces and their lines of attack. Yesterday I had the +wires at Drury's Bluff and started trouble. I'm on my way now to join my +command, but I had a good excuse for coming home to hold you in in my +arms again, if only for a moment. You see, poor old Roger got a wound in +his flank--from a stray bullet." + +"A _stray_ bullet," asked Mrs. Gary, doubtfully. + +"Yes," he smiled, for he had escaped it, "a stray bullet meant for +_me_." + +"But, Daddy," Virgie interrupted, "while you were up in the tree--" + +A wild whoop broke off Virgie's question. Sally Ann was rushing down the +steps, her eyes rolling up with excitement. + +"Mars' Cary! Mars' Cary! Somebody comin' long de road!" + +"Who? How many?" Cary demanded, springing up and running towards the +gate that opened on the wagon road over the hills. + +"Des' one," responded Sally Ann with naïve truthfulness. "Ol' Dr. +Simmons. He drivin' by de gate in de buggy." + +Mrs. Cary threw up her hands with a muffled cry of relief and laughter. +"Oh, Sally! Sally!" she exclaimed, "you'll be the death of me." + +"But Lor! Miss Hallie," said Sally plaintively, "he _tole_ me fer to +tell him." + +Cary, returning, waved Sally Ann back to her post. "That's right," he +laughed. "You're a good sentry, Sally Ann. Go back and watch again. +_Scoot_!" + +"Herbert," and his wife stood before him. "Come into the house and let +me give you something to eat." + +For answer Cary gently imprisoned her face in his hands. "Honey, I +can't," he said, his eyes grown sad again. "Just fix me up +something--anything you can find. I'll munch it in the saddle." + +For a moment their lips clung and then she stepped back with a broken +sigh. "I'll do the best I can, but oh! how I wish it all were over and +that we had you home again." + +A spasm crossed the man's face. "It soon _will_ be over, sweetheart. It +soon _will_ be." + +His wife flung him a startled look. "You mean--Oh, Herbert! Isn't there +a single hope--even the tiniest ray?" + +Cary took her hands in his, looked into her eyes and his answer breathed +the still unconquered spirit of the South. "There is always hope--as +long as we have a man." Mrs. Cary went into the house, slowly, wearily, +and Cary turned to Virgie. + +"Well, little lady," her father said, resting his hand on Virgie's +shining head. "Have you been taking good care of mother--and seeing that +Uncle Billy does his plowing right?" + +"Yes, sir," came the prompt response. "Susan Jemima an' me have been +lookin' after everything--but we had to eat up General Butler!" + +"General Butler," cried her father, astounded. + +"Yes, Daddy--our lastest calf. We named him that 'cause one day when I +was feedin' him with milk he nearly swallowed my silver spoon." + +"Ha-ha," laughed the amused soldier, and swept her up in his arms. "If +we could only get rid of all their generals as easy as that we'd promise +not to eat again for a week. Everything else all right?" + +"No, sir," said Virgie, dolefully. "All the niggers has runned away--all +'cept Uncle Billy and Sally Ann. Jeems Henry runned away this morning." + +"The deuce he did! The young scamp!" + +"He's gone to join the Yankees," Virgie continued. + +"What's that?" and Cary sprang up to pace to and fro. "I wonder which +way he went?" + +"I don' know," whimpered Virgie forlornly. "I only wish I was a soldier +with a big, sharp sword like yours--'cause when the blue boys came I'd +_stick_ 'em in the stomach." + +Mrs. Cary was coming down the steps now with a small package of food and +in the roadway Uncle Billy stood feeding and watering his master's +horse. In this bitterest of moments, when his own family had to be the +ones to hurry him along his way, there had come another and greater +danger--peril to those he loved. + +"Tell me, dear," he said with his hand warm on his wife's soft shoulder. +"Is it true that Jeems Henry ran away this morning?" + +"Yes," she nodded. "I knew the poor boy meant to leave us sooner or +later, so I made no effort to detain him." + +"You did right," was the answer. "But which way did he go?" + +"Up the river. To a Union camp on the Chickahominy." + +"Chickahominy!" exclaimed Cary sharply, and bit his lips. "So that's the +lay of the land, eh! I'm mighty glad you told me this. But still--" +Cary's voice faded away under the weight of a sudden despair. What was +the use of fighting forever against such fearful odds? What could they +ever gain--save a little more honor--and at what dreadful cost? + +"What makes you look so worried, Herbert?" his wife murmured, her nerves +on edge again. + +"Yes, it's true," the man said with a groan. "They're gradually closing +in on us--surrounding Richmond." + +"_Surrounding us?_" Mrs. Cary whispered, hardly believing her ears. + +"Yes, it's true--all too true," the man burst out bitterly. "We can +fight against thousands--and against tens of thousands but, darling, we +can't fight half the world." + +He sank down on the bench, one elbow on his crossed knee, the other arm +hanging listlessly by his side. His face grew lined and haggard. All the +spirit, the indomitable courage of a moment ago had fled before the +revelation that, try as they might, they could never conquer in this +terribly unequal fight. Then he threw out his hand and began to speak, +half to her and half to the unseen armies of his fellows. + +"Our armies are exhausted. Dwindling day by day. We are drawing from the +cradle and the grave. Old men--who can scarcely bear the weight of a +musket on their shoulders: and boys--mere children--who are sacrificed +under the blood-stained wheels. The best! The flower of our land! We +are dumping them all into a big, red hopper. Feed! Feed! Always more +feed for this greedy machine of war!" + +Silently wife and daughter came to the man in his despair, as if to ward +off some dark shape which hovered over him with brushing wings. Their +arms went around him together. + +"There, there, dear," he heard a soft voice whisper, "don't grow +despondent. _Think!_ Even though you've fought a losing fight it has +been a glorious one--and God will not forget the Stars and Bars! +Remember,--you still have us--who love you to the end--and fight your +battles--on our knees." + +Slowly the man looked up. + +"Forgive me, honey," he murmured remorsefully. "You are right--and +bravest, after all. It is you--you women, who save us in the darkest +hours. You--our wives--our mothers--who wage a silent battle in the +lonely, broken homes. You give us love and pity--tenderness and tears--a +flag of pride that turns defeat to victory. The women of the South," he +cried, and Herbert Cary doffed his hat before his wife, "the crutch on +which the staggering hope of Dixie leans!" + +There came, then, the sound of hurrying footsteps. Once more Sally Ann +rushed from the house but this time genuine danger was written plainly +in her face. + +"Mars' Cary! Mars' Cary! Dey's comin' dis time--sho' 'nuff!" + +"How many?" Cary cried, springing for the roadway and his horse. + +"Dey's comin' thu' de woods--an' Lawd Gawd, de yearth is fyar blue wid' +'em." + +"Billy!" commanded Cary. "Take Lightfoot as fast as you can down to the +edge of the woods. Don't worry, Hallie, they'll never catch me once I'm +in the saddle." + +He stooped and kissed her, then caught up Virgie for a last hug, burying +his worn face in her curls. "Good-by, little one. Take good care of +Mother. Good-by!" + +With one last grasp his wife caught his hand. "Herbert! which way do you +go?" + +"Across the river--to the Chesterfield side." + +"But the Yankees came that way, too!" + +"I'll circle around them. If they've left a guard at the crossing I'll +swim the river higher up." He slapped his holster with his open hand. +"Listen for three shots. If they come in quick succession--then I've +crossed--I'm safe. If I only had a few men I'd stay, but alone, I +can't--you know I can't. Good-by! God bless you." And in another moment +he was in the saddle--had waved his hand--was gone. + +Straining their eyes after him, as if they would somehow pierce the dark +woods which hid his flight, mother and daughter stood as if turned to +stone. Only Virgie, after a moment, waved her hand and sent her soft, +childish prayer winging after him to save him from all harm. "Good-by, +Daddy-man, good-by!" + +Sally Ann, however, having seen the approaching danger with her own +eyes, began to wring her hands and cry hysterically. "Aw, Miss Hallie, I +so skeered! I so skeered!" + +"Sally," cried Mrs. Cary, as the sound of hoofbeats thudding through the +woods came unmistakably to her ears, "take Virgie with you instantly +and run down through the grove to the old ice house. Hide there under +the pine tags. Understand?" + +But the negro girl, ashen with terror, seemed incapable of flight. + +"I skeered to go, Miss Hallie," she whimpered. "I wan' stay here wid +you! Ou-ou!" + +"But you can't, I tell you," her mistress answered, as the certainty of +the girl's helplessness before a questioner flashed through her mind. +"You'd tell everything." + +"Oh, come on, you big baby," Virgie urged, pulling at Sally Arm's +sleeve. "_I'll_ take care of you." Then her eye fell on Susan Jemima +lying neglected on the bench and she gave a faint scream at her +heartlessness. "Goodness gracious, Mother," she cried, as, still holding +on to Sally Ann, she ran and caught up her beloved doll. "I nearly +forgot my child!" + +With the clank of sabers and the sound of gruff commands already in her +ears, Mrs. Cary turned peremptorily to Uncle Billy. + +"Remember, William! If the Yankees ask for my husband _you haven't seen +him!_" + +"Nor'm, dat's right," was the prompt answer. "I dunno you eben got one. +But you go in de house, Miss Hallie. Dat's de bes' way,--yas'm." + +"Perhaps it _is_ best," his mistress answered. "The longer we can detain +them the better for Captain Cary. You'd better come in yourself." + +"Yas'm," replied the faithful old man, although such action was farthest +from his thoughts. "In des' a minnit. I'll be dar in des' a minnit." + +But once his mistress had closed the door behind her Uncle Billy's plan +of operations changed. Hurrying down the steps he plunged his arm under +the porch and drew forth--a rusty ax. With his weapon over his shoulder +he hastened up on the veranda and stood with his back against the door. + + + + +CHAPTER III + + +The thudding feet came nearer. A bugle call--a rattling of accouterments +and then, from the other side of the hedge, came a half dozen troopers +in blue, led by a Sergeant with a red face and bloodshot eyes. + +"This way, boys!" the Sergeant shouted, and at the sound of a harsh, +never-forgotten voice Uncle Billy's grasp on his ax grew tighter. "_I_ +know the place--I've been here before. _We'll_ get the liquor and silver +while the Colonel is stealing the horses, eh?" Then his eyes fell on +Uncle Billy and he greeted him with a yell of recognition. "Hello, you +black old ape! Come down and show us where you buried the silver and the +whisky. Oh, you won't? Then I'll come up and get you," and he lurched +forward. + +"Look here, white man," Uncle Billy shouted, lifting the rusty ax high +in the air, "you stay whar you is. Ef you come up dem steps I'll split +yo' ugly haid! I know you, Jim Dudley," he cried. "Mars' Cary done give +you _one_ horse whippin', an' ef you hang aroun' here you'll get anudder +one!" + +Furious at the recollection of his shame of a few years back when he had +been overseer on this same plantation, the Sergeant rushed up the steps +and knocked the ax aside with his gun barrel. "Yes, he did whip me, burn +him, and now I'll do the same for you." Seizing Uncle Billy by the +throat he pushed him against the house. + +Instantly the door swung open. Mrs. Cary, her head held high, her +beautiful dark eyes blazing with wrath, stood on the threshold. + +"Stop it!" she commanded in tones that brooked no disobedience even from +a drunkard. "Let my servant go--instantly!" + +Astounded at this sudden apparition the man shrank back for a moment, +but almost as quickly regained his bluster. + +"Ah-hah, the beautiful Mrs. Cary, eh! I'm glad to see you looking so +well--and handsome." + +The words might as well have been spoken to the wind for all the notice +that the woman paid them. With only a gesture of mingled contempt and +loathing she stepped to the railing and called to the grinning troopers +below. "Who is in command here?" + +To her horror only Dudley answered. + +"_I_ am," he said, triumphantly. He thrust a menacing face close to hers +and ordered her curtly. "And I'd just as soon have _you_ get me a drink +as the nigger. Come on, fine lady." + +Intent on insulting this woman whose husband had once cut his back with +a whip the man caught her by the arm and roughly tried to pull her to +him. But before he could accomplish his purpose retribution fell on him +with a heavy hand. + +Through a gap in the hedge an officer at the head of a dozen troopers +appeared. One look at the scene on the veranda and Lieutenant-Colonel +Morrison, with a smothered cry, dashed up the steps. + +"You beastly coward," and catching the drunkard by the collar he twisted +him around and hurled him thudding and bumping down the steps. "Dudley, +I ought to have you shot." He swept his arm out and gave voice to a +ringing command. "Report to Lieutenant Harris--at once--_under arrest!_ +Corporal! Take his gun." He paused a moment as a brother of the man now +under arrest stepped forward with a sullen face and obeyed orders. +Running his glance over the line of faces, now suddenly vacant of +expression, he whipped them mercilessly with his eye. "You men, too, +will hear from me. Go to the stable and wait. Another piece of work like +this and I'll have your coats cut off with a belt buckle! Clear out!" + +Then he turned to the beautiful woman in white who stood only a few feet +away, no longer timid but in entire possession of her faculties before +what, she knew, might prove a greater danger than a drunkard. + +"Madam," said the Union officer as he doffed his hat, "I couldn't +apologize for this, no matter how hard I tried; but, believe me, I +regret it--deeply." + +In answer she slowly raised her heavy lidded eyes and gave him her +first thrust--smoothly and deftly. + +"No apology is demanded," she murmured in soft tones. "I was merely +unfamiliar with the Union's method of attack." + +"Attack!" he repeated, astounded, and stepped back. + +"What else?" she asked, simply. "My home is over-run; my servant +assaulted--by a drunken ruffian." + +"The man will be punished," was the stern reply, "to the limit of my +authority." + +"He _should_ be. We know him," the Southern woman said bitterly. "Before +the war he was our overseer. He was cruel to the negroes and my husband +gave him a taste of his own discipline--with a riding whip!" + +"Ah, I see," Morrison nodded. "But it is not always in an officer's +power to control each individual in the service--especially at such a +time. Yet I assure you on the part of the Union--and mine--that there +was no intention of attack." + +Mrs. Cary had chosen this moment in which to draw her visitor off the +veranda and when she had successfully brought him to the foot of the +steps she looked up in smiling sarcasm with another thrust. + +"Oh! Then since your visit would seem a _social_ one--how may I serve +you, sir?" + +Morrison laughed lightly. This pretty cat could scratch. + +"I'm afraid, dear madam, you are wrong again. My detachment is on +foraging duty. It is not a pleasant task--but our army is in need of +horses and supplies, and by the rules of war, I must take what I can +find." + +"Even by force?" came the quiet inquiry. + +"Yes, even force," he answered, reddening. "With its proper limitations. +I rob you, it is true, but by virtue of necessity. In return I can only +offer, as I would to every other woman of the South, all courtesy and +protection at my command," and Lieutenant-Colonel Morrison, for the +second time, took off his hat. + +The Southern woman swept him a curtsey filled with graceful mockery. + +"I thank you. There is consolation--and even flattery--in being +plundered by a gentleman." She made a short gesture which took in +house, plantation and all the Cary possessions. "I regret sincerely that +we have nothing left; yet I beg you--help yourself." + +Colonel Morrison bit his lip, half in vexation and half in amusement. +"At least you make my undertaking a difficult one, although I must +admit, I hardly blame you." And then, with a quick, searching look, "Are +there any rebels hidden in your house?" + +"No," she answered. + +"No wounded officers--or refugees of any kind?" + +"None." + +"You give me your word for this--your oath?" + +The Southern woman's head went up and her eyes flashed. "I do," she said +contemptuously and moved away. + +"Thank you," was the grave reply, and he turned to dismiss his men. Then +a thought struck him and he detained her with a gesture. + +"Pardon me, but if it _was_ true--if a brother or a father--was +concealed in there--wouldn't your answer be the same?" + +The answer that came proudly back did not amaze him. "I would try to +protect them--yes! Even with a _perjury_!" + +"Ah!" he said sharply. "Then, don't you you see, you tie the hands of +courtesy and _force_ me to--to this invasion of your home. _Corporal!_ +Make a search of the house for hidden arms or stragglers and report to +me. If any rebels are found--bring them out. Wait," he ordered, as the +Corporal promptly started forward, "nothing else, _whatever_, must be +taken or molested." + +"One moment," commanded Mrs. Cary in her turn and beckoned to Uncle +Billy who had been standing by in silence. "William! conduct these +soldiers through my house--and show them every courtesy. If the +Colonel's orders are not obeyed, report to me." + +"Yas'm," grinned Uncle Billy, with an opera bouffe salute. "Ev'ry +molestashun I'se gwine report." + +Morrison laughed outright. "I'm sorry you still have doubts of my +honorable intentions. May--may my soldiers go in now? Thank you." + +He walked away a few steps, then turned and looked at her where she sat +on the bench demurely sewing. It occurred to him that she was _too_ +demure. Besides, he had discovered something. + +"Er--it is true that I found your stable empty," he said, while his eyes +probed hers, "but, curiously enough, it seems to have been recently +occupied." + +"Yes?" was the non-committal reply. + +"Yes," he echoed, with a touch of iron in his voice. "And you can insure +our leaving you more quickly if you will tell me where these horses have +been hidden." + +Mrs. Cary did not raise her eyes. + +"Granted that we _had_ them," she said, "I'm afraid I must trouble you +to look for them. Otherwise there would be no sense in trying to protect +my property." + +"Right again," he acknowledged, but did not swerve from what he had to +do. "Orderly," he commanded, "report to Lieutenant Harris at the stables +and have him hunt the woods and swamp for hidden horses. Hurry! We must +leave in half an hour." + +As Morrison spoke his eye fell on the roadway and he started +perceptibly. When he turned back to the woman on the bench it was with a +sterner light in his eye. + +"I also notice that a horse has recently been fed and watered in your +carriage road. _Whose was he?_" + +Again that smooth, soft voice with its languid evasions. "We have +several neighbors, Colonel. They visit us at infrequent times." + +"Undoubtedly," he conceded. "But do you usually feed their horses?" + +She smiled faintly. "What little hospitality is ours extends to both man +and beast." + +"I can well believe it," he replied, for he saw to cross-examine this +quick witted woman would be forever useless. "And in happier times I +could wish it might extend--to me. + +"Oh, I mean no offense," he interrupted as Mrs. Cary rose haughtily. "I +only want you to believe that I'm sorry for this intrusion." + +She raised her eyebrows faintly and sat down again. "And was that the +reason why you asked about my neighbor's horse?" + +"No," he said quickly, and as suddenly caught and held her eye. "There's +a Rebel scout who has been giving us trouble--a handsome fellow riding a +bay horse. I thought, perhaps, he might have passed this way." + +If he had thought he would detect anything in her face he was once more +mistaken. + +"It is more than possible," Mrs. Cary remarked with a touch of +weariness. "The road out there is a public one." + +"And where does it lead to, may I ask?" + +"That depends upon which way you are traveling--and which fork you +take." + +"Possibly. But suppose you were riding north. Wouldn't the right fork +lead to Richmond--and the left swing around toward the river crossing?" + +"As to that I must refer you to a more competent authority," she +answered with a hint of some disclosure in her tones. + +"Who?" + +"Mr. Jefferson Davis," she replied and almost laughed outright as he +turned away to hide his vexation. This was an easy game for her to +play--and every moment she gained added to Herbert's safety. But if only +she could hear those three shots from across the river. + +"Well, Harris?" said Morrison as his Lieutenant strode up. + +"I have to report, sir, that we've gotten what little hay and corn there +was in the stables and are waiting for your orders." + +"Very well," and Lieutenant-Colonel Morrison's incisive words rang +mercilessly in the listening woman's ears. "Pick out the best shots you +have among your men and send them at the gallop down this road to the +river crossing. String them along the bank, dismount them and have them +watch as they've never watched before. You understand? Now _hurry_!" + +If ever a woman hated a man, or rather the crushing force he typified, +then Herbert Cary's wife hated this clear headed, efficient Northerner, +who was now discovering how he had been delayed and thwarted. Yet she +had plenty of spirit left, for as Corporal Dudley and his file of +troopers emerged from the house she stood up and caught Uncle Billy's +eye. + +"Well, Corporal?" asked Morrison. + +"Well, William?" asked Mrs. Cary. + +"It's all right, Miss Hallie," Uncle Billy grinned. "Dey ain't took +nothin'--not a single thing." + +"Thank you, William," said Mrs. Cary, having triumphed again. "And thank +_you_, gentlemen." With a bow to Morrison she went superbly back to her +seat under the trees. But as she went it took all her strength of will +to keep from crying. Down the carriage road a squad of cavalry was +galloping furiously towards the river. And still she had not heard the +three shots. + +"Now, then, Corporal, you found what?" + +"Nothing, sir. We hunted from cellar to roof. No arms and no rebels." + +"H'm," he mused. "Anything else?" + +"Three bedrooms, sir. All in use." + +"Three?" Colonel Morrison exclaimed. "Very well. That's all. I'll join +you in a moment." Then he turned to Mrs. Cary, his face stern with +resolve. + +"Madam," he said crisply, "you are not alone on this plantation with +only this old negro. We are wasting time. I'm after a Rebel scout and _I +want him_. Which way did he go?" + +"I'm sorry, sir," she said, quite ready to play her game again. "But our +Rebel scouts usually neglect to mention their precise intentions." + +"Perhaps. If this one went at all. Is he still here?" + +"I should imagine--_not_." + +"Then he did go this way--to the river crossing?" + +Once more he caught and held her eyes and thought he would read the +truth in spite of anything she might say. + +But while he looked he saw her strained face suddenly relax--saw the +anxiety flee from her eyes--saw heart and soul take on new life. From +far away across the river had come some faint popping sounds, regularly +spaced--_three shots_. + +"Ah!" he said, in wonder. "What is that?" + +"It _sounds_," laughed Herbert Cary's wife, "like firing. But I think it +is a friend of mine saluting me--from the safe side of the river. Good +evening, Colonel," and she swept by him. She could go find Virgie now. + +Just then came the sound of a horse, galloping. Up the road came a +trooper, white with dust, his animal flecked with foam. + +"For Colonel Morrison. Urgent," he rasped from a dry throat, as he +thudded across the lawn and dismounted. "From headquarters," and he +thrust out a dispatch, "I'm ordered to return with your detachment." + +Snatching the dispatch from the man's hand Morrison ran his eye over +it--then started visibly. + +"Orderly! Report to Harris double-quick. Recall the men. Sound +boots-and-saddles. Then bring my horse--_at once!_ Any details?" he +asked peremptorily of the courier. + +"Big battle to-morrow," the man answered. "Two gunboats are reported +coming up the river and a wing of the Rebel army is advancing from +Petersburg. Every available detachment is ordered in. You are to reach +camp before morning." + +"All right. We'll be there." Then, as the bugle sounded, "Ride with us," +he said, and strode over to where Mrs. Cary stood, arrested by the news. + +"Madam, I must make you a rather hurried farewell--and a last apology. +If ever we meet again, I hope the conditions may be happier--for you." + +"I thank you, Colonel," the proud Southern woman said sincerely, with a +curtsy. "Some day the 'rebel scout' may thank you also for me and mine." +And with a smile that augured friendship when that brighter day should +come she passed out of his sight among the trees. + +For a moment he watched her, proud at least that this proud woman was of +his own race, then saw that the old negro, her only protector, still +guarded the house. + +"Here, old man," he commanded, "go along with your mistress and take +care of her. I'll be the last to leave and see that nothing happens to +the house." + +"Yas, seh. Thank'e, seh," said old Uncle Billy, coming down. "If all of +'em was only lek you, seh--" + +Uncle Billy suddenly turned and looked up at the house, his mouth open +in consternation. With a cry of anguish he pointed to an upper window. + +"Look what dey done done," he shrieked. "Aw, Gawd a'mighty! Look what +dey done done!" + +A cloud of smoke was rolling from the windows, shot through with yellow +jets of flame. There was the sound of clumsy boots on the stairs and the +door was thrown open. Dudley, escaped from arrest, ran out with a +flaming pine torch in his hand. + +"Halt!" cried Morrison, with raging anger. "Dudley! HALT!" + +But Dudley knew that there would be little use in halting and so ran on +until a big revolver barked behind him and he pitched heavily forward on +his face. Morrison looked down on the prostrate form and his lips moved +sadly, pityingly: + +"And I promised her--protection!" + + + + +CHAPTER IV + + +Of all the memories of war, after the dear dead are buried, there is one +that serves to bring the struggle back in all the intensity of its +horrors--to stand both as a monument to those who bled and suffered and +as a lonely sentinel mourning for the peace and plenty of the past--a +blackened chimney. + +Of all the houses, cabins, barns and cribs which had made up the home of +the Carys a few short months ago nothing remained to-day but ashes and +black ruin. Only one building had been left unburned and this, before +the war, had been the cabin of an overseer. It had but two rooms, and a +shallow attic, which was gained by means of an iron ladder reaching to a +closely fitting scuttle in the ceiling. The larger room was furnished +meagerly with a rough deal table, several common chairs, and a +double-doored cupboard against the wall. In the deep, wide fire-place +glowed a heap of raked-up embers, on which, suspended from an iron +crane, a kettle simmered, sadly, as if in grief for her long-lost +brother pots and pans. The plaster on the walls had broken away in +patches, especially above the door, where the sunlight streamed through +the gaping wound from a cannon shot. The door and window shutters were +of heavy oak, swinging inward and fastening with bars; yet now they were +open, and through them could be seen a dreary stretch of river bottom, +withering beneath the rays of a July sun. + +Beyond a distant fringe of trees the muddy James went murmuring down its +muddy banks, where the blue cranes waited solemnly for the ebbing tide; +where the crows cawed hoarsely in their busy, reeling flight, and the +buzzards swung high above the marshes. Yet even in this waste of +listless desolation came the echoed boom of heavy guns far down the +river, where the "Rebs" and "Yanks" were pounding one another lazily. + +From the woods which skirted the carriage road a man appeared--a thin, +worn man, in a uniform of stained and tattered gray--a man who peered +from right to left, as a hunted rabbit might, then darted across the +road and plunged into the briery underbrush. Noiselessly he made his way +to the now deserted cabin, creeping, crawling till he reached a point +below an open window, then slowly raised himself and looked within. + +"Virgie!" he whispered cautiously. "Virgie!" + +No answer came. For a moment the man leaned dizzily against the +windowsill, his eyes fast closed with a nameless dread, till he caught +his grip again and entered the open door. + +"Virgie!" he called, in a louder tone, moving swiftly but unsteadily +toward the adjoining room. He flung its door open sharply, almost +angrily; yet the name on his lips was tender, trembling, as he called: +"Virgie! Virgie!" + +In the loneliness of dread, he once more leaned for support against the +wall, wondering, listening to the pounding of his heart, to the murmur +of the muddy James, and the fall of a flake of plaster loosened by the +dull reverberation of a distant gun; then suddenly his eye was caught +by the kettle simmering on the fire, and he sighed in swift relief. + +He wiped his brow with a ragged sleeve and went to where a water-bucket +stood behind the door, knelt beside it, drinking deeply, gratefully, yet +listening the while for unwonted sounds and watching the bend of the +carriage road. His thirst appeased, he hunted vainly through the table +drawer for balls and powder for the empty pistol at his hip; then, +instinctively alert to some rustling sound outside, he crouched toward +the adjoining room, slipped in, and softly closed the door. + +From the sunlit world beyond the cabin walls rose the murmur of a +childish song and Virgie came pattering in. + +She had not changed greatly in stature in the past few months, but there +was a very noticeable decrease in the girth of her little arms and body, +and her big dark eyes seemed the larger for the whiteness of her face. +On her head she wore an old calico bonnet several sizes too large and +the gingham dress which scarcely reached to her bare, brown knees would +not have done, a few months ago, for even Sally Ann. In one hand Virgie +carried a small tin bucket filled with berries; in the other she +clutched a doll lovingly against her breast. + +Not the old Susan Jemima, but a new Susan Jemima on whom an equal +affection was being lavished even though she was strangely and +wonderfully made. To the intimate view of the unimaginative, Susan +Jemima was formed from the limb of a cedar tree, the forking branches +being her arms and legs, her costume consisting of a piece of rag tied +at the waist with a bit of string. + +On a chair at the table Virgie set her doll, then laughed at the +hopelessness of its breakfasting with any degree of comfort, or of ease. + +"Why, Lord a-mercy, child, your chin don't come up to the table." + +On the chair she placed a wooden box, perching the doll on top and +taking a seat herself just opposite. She emptied the blackberries into a +mutilated plate, brought from the cupboard a handful of toasted acorns, +on which she poured boiling water, then set the concoction aside to +steep. + +"Now, Miss Susan Jemima," said Virgie, addressing her vis-à-vis with the +hospitable courtesy due to so great a lady, "we are goin' to have some +breakfas'." She paused, in a shade of doubt, then smiled a faint +apology: "It isn't very _much_ of a breakfas', darlin', but we'll make +believe it's waffles an' chicken an'--an' hot rolls an' batter-bread +an'--an' everything." She rose to her little bare feet, holding her wisp +of a skirt aside, and made a sweeping bow. "Allow me, Miss Jemima, to +make you a mos' delicious cup of coffee." + +And, while the little hostess prepared the meal, a man looked out from +the partly open door behind her, with big dark eyes, which were like her +own, yet blurred by a mist of pity and of love. + +"Susan," said the hostess presently, "it's ready now, and we'll say +grace; so don't you talk an' annoy your mother." + +The tiny brown head was bowed. The tiny brown hands, with their +berry-stained fingers, were placed on the table's edge; but Miss Susan +Jemima sat bolt upright, though listening, it seemed, to the words of +reverence falling from a mother-baby's lips: + +"Lord, make us thankful for the blackberries an' the aco'n coffee +an'--an' all our blessin's; but please, sir, sen' us somethin' that +tastes jus' a little better--if you don't mind. Amen!" + +And the man, who leaned against the door and watched, had also bowed his +head. A pain was in his throat--and in his heart--a pain that gripped +him, till two great tears rolled down his war-worn cheek and were lost +in his straggling beard. + +"Virgie!" he whispered hoarsely. "Virgie!" + +She started at the sound and looked about her, wondering; then, as the +name was called again, she slid from her chair and ran forward with a +joyous cry: + +"Why, Daddy! Is it you? Is--" + +She stopped, for the man had placed a finger on his lip and was pointing +to the door. + +"Take a look down the road," he ordered, in a guarded voice; and, when +she had reached a point commanding the danger zone, he asked, "See +anybody?--soldiers?" She shook her head. "Hear anything?" + +She stood for a moment listening, then ran to him, and sprang into his +waiting arms. + +"It's all right, Daddy! It's all right now!" + +He raised her, strained her to his breast, his cheek against her own. + +"My little girl!" he murmured between his kisses. "My little rebel!" And +as she snuggled in his arms, her berry-stained fingers clasped tightly +about his neck, he asked her wistfully, "Did you miss me?--_awful_ +much?" + +"Yes," she nodded, looking into his eyes. "Yes--in the night time--when +the wind was talkin'; but, after while, when--Why, Daddy!" He had +staggered as he set her down, sinking into a chair and closing his eyes +as he leaned on the table's edge. "You are hurt!" she cried. "I--I can +see the blood!" + +The wounded Southerner braced himself. + +"No, dear, no," he strove to reassure her. "It isn't anything; only a +little scratch--from a Yank--that tried to get me. But he didn't, +though," the soldier added with a smile. "I'm just--tired." + +The child regarded him in wondering awe, speaking in a half-breathed +whisper: + +"Did he--did he _shoot_ at you?" + +Her father nodded, with his hand on her tumbled hair. + +"Yes, honey, I'm afraid he did; but I'm so used to it now I don't mind +it any more. Get me a drink of water, will you?" As Virgie obeyed in +silence, returning with the dripping gourd, the man went on: "I tried to +get here yesterday; but I couldn't. They chased me when I came +before--and now they're watching." He paused to sip at his draught of +water, glancing toward the carriage road. "Big fight down the river. +Listen! Can you hear the guns?" + +"Yes, plain," she answered, tilting her tiny head. "An' las' night, when +I went to bed, I could hear 'em--oh! ever so loud: Boom! Boom! +Boom-boom! So I knelt up an' asked the Lord not to let any of 'em hit +you." + +Two arms, in their tattered gray, slipped round the child. He kissed +her, in that strange, fierce passion of a man who has lost his mate, +and his grief-torn love is magnified in the mite who reflects her image +and her memory. + +"Did you, honey?" he asked, with a trembling lip. "Well, I reckon that +saved your daddy, for not one shell touched him--no, not one!" He kissed +her again, and laughed. "And I tell you, Virgie, they were coming as +thick as bees." + +Once more he sipped at the grateful, cooling draught of water, when the +child asked suddenly: + +"How is Gen'ral Lee?" + +Down came the gourd upon the table. The Southerner was on his feet, with +a stiffened back; and his dusty slouch hat was in his hand. + +"He's well; God bless him! Well!" + +The tone was deep and tender, proud, but as reverent as the baby's +prayer for her father's immunity from harm; yet the man who spoke sank +back into his seat, closing his eyes and repeating slowly, sadly: + +"He's well; God bless him! But he's tired, darling--mighty tired." + +"Daddy," the soldier's daughter asked, "will you tell him +somethin'--from me?" + +"Yes, dear. What?" + +"Tell him," said the child, with a thoughtful glance at Miss Susan +Jemima across the table, "tell him, if he ever marches along this way, +I'll come over to his tent and rub his head, like I do yours--if he'll +let me--till he goes to sleep." She clasped her fingers and looked into +her father's eyes, hopefully, appealingly. "Do you think he would, +if--if I washed my hands--real clean?" + +The Southerner bit his lip and tried to smile. + +"Yes, honey, I know he would! And think! He sent a message--to _you_." + +"Did he?" she asked, wide-eyed, flushed with happiness. "What did he +say, Daddy? What?" + +"He said," her father answered, taking her hands in his: "'She's a brave +little soldier, to stay there all alone. Dixie and I are proud of her!'" + +"Oh, Daddy, did he? Did he?" + +"Yes, dear, yes," the soldier nodded; "his very words. And look!" From +his boot leg he took a folded paper and spread it on his knee. "He +wrote you a pass--to Richmond. Can you read it?" + +Virgie leaned against her father's shoulder, studying the paper long and +earnestly; then, presently looked up, with a note of grave but courteous +hesitation in her tone: + +"Well--he--well, the Gen'ral writes a awful bad hand, Daddy." + +Her father laughed in genuine delight, vowing in his heart to tell his +general and friend of this crushing criticism, if ever the fates of war +permitted them to meet again. + +"Dead right!" he agreed, with hearty promptness. "But come, I'll read it +for you. Now then. Listen: + + "HEADQUARTERS OF THE ARMY OF NORTHERN VA. + + "_Pass Virginia Cary and escort through all Confederate lines and + give safe-conduct wherever possible._ + + "R.E. LEE, _General_." + +There was silence for a moment, then Virgie looked up, with tears in her +eyes and voice. + +"An' he did that--for little _me_? Oh, Daddy, I love him so much, it--it +makes me want to cry." + +She hid her face on the coat of gray, and sobbed; while her father +stroked her hair and answered soothingly, but in a tone of mourning +reverie: + +"So do we all, darling; big grown men, who have suffered, and are losing +all they love. They are ragged--and wounded--hungry--and, oh, so tired! +But, when they think of _him_, they draw up their belts another hole, +and say, '_For General Lee!_' And then they can fight and fight and +fight--till their hearts stop beating--and the god of battles writes +them a bloody pass!" + +Again he had risen to his feet. He was speaking proudly, in the reckless +passion of the yet unconquered Southerner, only half-conscious of the +tot who watched him, wondering. So she came to him quickly, taking his +hand in both her own, and striving to bring him comfort from the +fountain of her little mother-heart. + +"Don't you worry, Daddy-man. We'll--we'll whip 'em yet." + +"No, dear--no," he sighed, as he dropped into his seat. "We won't. It's +hard enough on men; but harder still on children such as you." He +turned to her gravely, earnestly: "Virgie, I had hoped to get you +through to Richmond--to-day. But I can't. The Yankees have cut us off. +They are up the river and down the river--and all around us, I've been +nearly the whole night getting here; creeping through the woods--like an +old Molly-cotton-tail--with the blue boys everywhere, waiting to get me +if I showed my head." + +"But they didn't, did they?" said Virgie, laughing at his reference to +the wise old rabbit and feeling for the pockets of his shabby coat, "Did +you--did you bring me anything?" + +At her question the man cried out as if in pain, then reached for her in +a wave of yearning tenderness. + +"Listen, dear; I--I had a little bundle for you--of--of things to eat." +He took her by the arms, and looked into her quaint, wise face, "And I +was so glad I had it, darling, for you are thinner than you were." He +paused to bite his lip, and continued haltingly, "There was bread in +that bundle--and meat--real meat--and sugar--and tea." + +Virgie released herself and clapped her hands. + +"Oh, Daddy, where is it?" she asked him happily, once more reaching for +the pocket. "'Cause I'm _so_ hungry for somethin' good." + +"Don't! Don't!" he cried, as he drew his coat away, roughly, fiercely, +in the pain of unselfish suffering. "For Daddy's sake, don't!" + +"Why, what is it, Daddy," she asked, in her shrillness of a child's +alarm, her eyes on the widening stain of red above his waist. "Is--is it +hurtin' you again? What is it, Daddy-man?" + +"Your bundle," he answered, in the flat, dull tone of utter +hopelessness. "I lost it, Virgie. I lost it." + +"Oh," she said, with a quaver of disappointment, which she vainly strove +to hide. "How did you do it?" + +For a moment the man leaned limply against a chair-back, hiding his eyes +with one trembling hand; then he spoke in shamed apology: + +"I--I couldn't help it, darling; because, you see, I hadn't any powder +left; and I was coming through the woods--just as I told you--when the +Yanks got sight of me." He smiled down at her bravely, striving to add a +dash of comedy to his tragic plight. "And I tell you, Virgie, your old +dad had to run like a turkey--wishing to the Lord he had wings, too." + +Virgie did not smile in turn, and her father dropped back into his +former tone, his pale lips setting in a straight, hard line. + +"And then--the blue boy I was telling you about--when he shot at me, I +must have stumbled, because, when I scrambled up, I--I couldn't see just +right; so I ran and ran, thinking of you, darling, and wanting to get to +you before--well, before it was breakfast time. I had your bundle in my +pocket; but when I fell--why, Virgie, don't you see?--I--I couldn't go +back and find it." He paused to choke, then spoke between his teeth, in +fury at a strength which had failed to breast a barrier of fate: "But I +_would_ have gone back, if I'd had any powder left. I _would_ have! I +would!" + +A pitiful apology it was, from a man to a little child; a story told +only in its hundredth part, for why should he give its untold horrors to +a baby's ears? How could she understand that man-hunt in the early dawn? +The fugitive--with an empty pistol on his hip--wading swamps and +plunging through the tangled underbrush; alert and listening, darting +from tree to tree where the woods were thin; crouching behind some +fallen log to catch his laboring breath, then rising again to creep +along his way. He did not tell of the racking pain in his weary legs, +nor the protest of his pounding heart--the strain--the agony--the puffs +of smoke that floated above the pines, and the ping of bullets whining +through the trees. He did not tell of the ball that slid along his ribs, +leaving a fiery, aching memory behind, as the man crashed down a clay +bank, to lie for an instant in a crumpled heap, to rise and stumble +on--not toward the haven of his own Confederate lines, but forward, to +where a baby waited--through a dancing mist of red. + +And so the soldier made his poor apology, turning his head away to +avoid a dreaded look in Virgie's big, reproachful eyes; then he added +one more lashwelt to his shame: + +"And now your poor old daddy is no more use to you. I come to my little +girl with empty hands--with an empty gun--and an empty heart!" + +He said it bitterly, in the self-accusing sorrow of his soul; and his +courage, which had borne him through a hell of suffering, now broke; but +only when a helper of the helpless failed. He laid his outflung arms +across the table. He bowed his beaten head upon them and sobbed aloud, +with sobs that shook him to his heels. + +It was then that Virgie came to him again, a little daughter of the +South, who, like a hundred thousand of her sisters, brought comfort in +the blackest hours. + +One tiny, weak arm was slipped about his neck. One tiny brown hand, with +its berry-stained fingers, was run through his tangled hair, softly, +tenderly, even as she longed to soothe the weary head of General Lee. + +"Don't cry, Daddy-man," she murmured in his ear; "it's all right. _I_ +can eat the blackberries. They--they don't taste so _awful_ good when +you have 'em _all_ the time; but _I_ don't mind." She paused to kiss +him, then tried once more to buoy his hope and hers. "We'll have jus' +heaps of things when we get to Richmon'--jus' heaps--an' then--" + +She stopped abruptly, lifting her head and listening, in the manner of a +sheep dog scenting danger from afar. Her father looked up sharply and +gripped her hands. + +"Virgie! You hear--_what_?" + +"Horses! Oh, a lot of 'em! On the big road!" + +It was true, for down the breeze came the faintly echoed thud of many +hoofs and the clinking jingle of sabers against the riders' thighs. +Virgie turned back from the open door. + +"Why--why, they've turned into _our_ road!" Her breath came fast, as she +sank her voice to a faint, awed whisper, "Daddy--do you reckon +it's--_Yankees_?" + +"Yes," said her father, who had risen to his feet. "Morrison's cavalry! +They won't hurt _you_; but I'll have to get to the woods again! Good-by, +honey! Good-by!" + +He kissed her hurriedly and started for the door, but shrank into the +shadow at sight of a blue-clothed watcher sharply outlined on the crest +of a distant rise. Escape was cut off, and the hunted soldier turned to +Virgie in his need. + +"Shut the door--quick!" She obeyed in silence. "Lock it!" She turned the +rusty key, and waited. "Now the windows! Hurry, but do it quietly." + +She closed the clumsy shutters and set the heavy bars into their slots; +then the man came forward, knelt down before her and took her hands. + +"Listen, Virginia," he whispered earnestly; "don't you remember how your +dear, dear mother--and I, too, darling--always told you never to tell a +lie?" + +"An' I haven't, Daddy-man," she protested, wondering. "'Deed, an' 'deed, +I haven't. Why--" + +"Yes, yes, I know," he interrupted hurriedly; "but now--_you must_!" As +the child stepped backward and tried to draw away, he clasped her hands +more tightly still. "But listen, dear; it's to save _me_! Don't you +understand?--and it's _right_! When those men come, they mustn't find +me. Say I _was_ here, but I've gone. If they ask which way, tell them I +went down past the spring--through the blackberry patch. Do you +understand?--and can you remember?" She nodded gravely, and the +Southerner folded her tightly in his arms. "Be a brave little rebel, +honey--_for me_!" + +He released her and began to mount the ladder leading to the scuttle in +the ceiling; but halfway up he paused, as Virgie checked him with a +solemn question: + +"Daddy--would Gen'ral Lee want me to tell that lie?" + +"Yes, dear," he answered slowly, thoughtfully; "this once! And, if ever +you see him, ask him, and he'll tell you so himself. God help you, +darling; it's for General Lee--and _you_!" + +The littlest rebel sighed, as though a weight had been lifted from her +mind, and she cocked her head at the sound of louder hoof-beats on the +carriage road. + +"All right, Daddy-man. I'll tell--a _whopper_!" + + + + +CHAPTER V + + +The man crawled up through the scuttle hole and disappeared; then drew +the ladder after him and closed the trap, while Virgie tiptoed to the +table and slipped into a seat. + +The cabin was now in semi-darkness, except for a shaft of sunlight +entering through the jagged wound from the cannon-shot above the door; +and it fell on the quaint, brown head of little Miss Virginia Cary, and +the placid form of Susan Jemima, perching opposite, in serene contempt +of the coming of a conquering host. + +The jingling clank of sabers grew louder to the listeners' ears, through +the rumble of pounding hoofs; a bugle's note came winnowing across the +fields, and Virgie leaned forward with a confidential whisper to her +doll: + +"Susan Jemima, I wouldn't tell anybody else--no, not for anything--but I +cert'n'y am awful scared!" + +There came a scurrying rush, a command to halt, and a rustling, +scraping noise of dismounting men; a pause, and the sharp, loud rap of a +saber hilt against the door. Virgie breathed hard, but made no answer. + +"Open up!" called a voice outside, but the little rebel closed her lips +and sat staring at Susan Jemima across the table. A silence followed, +short, yet filled with dread; then came a low-toned order and the crash +of carbine butts on the stout oak door. For a time it resisted +hopefully, then slowly its top sagged in, with a groaning, grating +protest from its rusty hinges; it swayed, collapsed in a cloud of +dust--and the enemy swept over it. + +They came with a rush; in the lead an officer, a naked saber in his +fist, followed by a squad of grim-faced troopers, each with his carbine +cocked and ready for discharge. Yet, as suddenly as they had come, they +halted now at the sight of a little lady, seated at table, eating +berries, as calmly as though the dogs of war had never even growled. + +A wondering silence followed, till broken by a piping voice, in grave +but courteous reproof: + +"I--I don't think you are very polite." + +The officer in command was forced to smile. + +"I'm sorry, my dear," he apologized; "but am afraid, this time, I can't +quite help it." He glanced at the door of the adjoining room and turned +to his waiting men, though speaking in an undertone: "He's in there, I +guess. Don't fire if you can help it--on account of the baby. Now then! +Steady, boys! Advance!" + +He led the way, six troopers following, while the rest remained behind +to guard the cabin's open door. Virgie slowly turned her head, with eyes +that watched the officer's every move; then presently she called: + +"Hey, there! That's _my_ room--an' don't you-all bother any of my +things, either!" + +This one command, at least, was implicitly obeyed, for in a moment the +disappointed squad returned. The carbine butts were grounded; the +troopers stood at orderly attention, while their officer stepped toward +the table. + +"What's your name, little monkey?" + +Virgie raised her eyes in swift reproach. + +"I don't like to be called a monkey. It--it isn't respectful." + +The Union soldier laughed. + +"O-ho! I see." He touched his hat and made her a sweeping bow. "A +thousand pardons, Mademoiselle." He shot his sword into its scabbard, +and laughed again. "Might I inquire as to what you are called by +your--er--justly respectful relatives and friends?" + +"Virgie," she answered simply. + +"Ah," he approved, "and a very pretty name! Virgie what?" + +"My whole name is Miss Virginia Houston Gary." + +The soldier started, glanced at his troopers, then back to the child +again: + +"Is Herbert Cary your father?" + +He waited for her answer, and got it, straight from a baby's shoulder: + +"_Mister_ Herbert Cary is--yes, sir." + +The enemy smiled and made her another bow. + +"I stand corrected. Where is your father now?" + +Virgie hesitated. + +"I--I don't know." + +The voice of her inquisitor took on a sterner tone: + +"Is he here?--hiding somewhere? Tell me!" + +Her little heart was pounding, horribly, and the hot blood came into her +cheeks; but she looked him squarely in the face, and lied--for General +Lee: + +"No, sir. Daddy _was_ here--but he's gone away." + +The enemy was looking at her, intently, and his handsome, piercing eyes, +grew most uncomfortable. She hung for an instant between success and +sobbing failure, till a bubble from Mother Eve rose up in her youthful +blood and burst into a spray of perfect feminine deceit. She did not try +to add to her simple statement, but began to eat her berries, calmly, as +though the subject were completely closed. + +"Which way did he go?" the officer demanded, and she pointed with her +spoon. + +"Down by the spring--through the blackberry patch." + +The soldier was half-convinced. He stood for a moment, looking at the +floor, then asked her sharply, suddenly: + +"If your father had gone, then why did you lock that door?" + +She faltered, but only for an instant. + +"'Cause I thought you might be--_niggers_." + +The man before her clenched his hands, as he thought of that new-born, +hideous danger menacing the South. + +"I see," he answered gently; "_yes_, I see." He turned away, but, even +as he turned, his eye was caught by the double-doored cupboard against +the wall. "What do you keep in there?" he asked; and the child smiled +faintly, a trifle sadly, in reply: + +"We _used_ to keep things to eat--when we had any." + +He noted her mild evasion, and pushed the point. + +"What is in it now?" + +"Tin pans." + +"Anything else?" + +"Er--yes, sir." + +He caught his breath and stepped a little nearer, bending till his face +was close to hers. + +"What?" + +"Colonel Mosby," declared the mite, with a most emphatic nod; "an' you +better look out, too!" + +The officer laughed as he turned to his grinning squad. + +"Bright little youngster! Still, I think we'll have a look." He dropped +his air of amusement, growing stern again. "Now, men! Ready!" + +They swung into line and faced the cupboard, the muzzles of their +carbines trained upon it, while their leader advanced, swung open the +doors, and quickly stepped aside. + +On the bottom shelf, as Virgie had declared, were a few disconsolate tin +pans; yet tacked to the door was a picture print of Mosby--that dreaded +guerrilla whose very name was a bugaboo in the Union lines. + +The littlest rebel flung back her head and laughed. + +"My, but you looked funny!" she cried to the somewhat disconcerted +officer, pointing at him with her spoon. "If a mouse had jumped out, I +reckon it would have scared you mos' to death." + +The officer's cheeks flushed red, in spite of his every effort at +control; nor was he assisted by the knowledge that his men were +tittering behind his back. He turned upon them sharply. + +"That will do," he said, and gave a brusque command: "Corporal, deploy +your men and make a thorough search outside. Examine the ground around +the spring--and report!" + +"Yes, sir," returned Corporal Dudley saluting and dropping his hand +across his mouth to choke off an exclamation of anger. Then he snarled +at his men, to ease the pain of thwarted vengeance: "_'Tention! Right +face! Forward! March!_" + +The squad trooped out across the broken door, leaving their commanding +officer alone with his rebel prisoner. + +"Now, Virgie," he asked, in a kindly tone, though holding her eyes with +his, "do you mean to tell me--cross your heart--that you are here, just +by yourself?" + +"Er--no, sir." As he opened his lips to speak, she pointed to her doll. +"Me an' Susan Jemima." + +"Well, that's a fact," he laughed. "Hanged if I'm not losing all my +social polish." He gallantly removed his hat, bowed gravely to the cedar +stick, and shook its hand. "Charmed to make your acquaintance, Miss +Susan, believe me. My own name is Morrison--Lieutenant-Colonel +Morrison--at your service." He turned to the little mother with a smile +that showed a row of white and even teeth. "And now," he said, "since we +are all informally introduced, suppose we have a quiet, comfortable +chat." He paused, but she made no answer. "Well? Aren't you going to ask +me to have some breakfast?" + +Virgie cast a troubled gaze into the plate before her. + +"Er--no, sir." + +"What? Why not?" + +She faltered, and answered slowly: + +"'Cause--'cause you're one of the damn Yankees." + +"Oh! oh! oh!" exclaimed the soldier, shocked to hear a baby's lips +profaned. "Little girls shouldn't use such words. Why, Virgie!" + +She raised her eyes, clear, fearless, filled with vindicating innocence. + +"Well, it's your _name_, isn't it? _Everybody_ calls you that." + +"Um--yes," he admitted, striving to check the twitching of his lips; "I +suppose they do--south of Washington. But don't you know we are just +like other people?" She shook her head. "Oh, yes, we are. Why, _I_ have +a little girl at home--not any bigger than you." + +"Have you?" asked Virgie, her budding racial prejudice at war with +youthful curiosity. "What's her name?" + +"Gertrude," he answered softly, tenderly. "Gertrude Morrison. Would you +like to see her picture?" + +"Yes," said the little rebel, and stepped across the gulf which had lain +between her and her enemy. "You can sit down if you want to. Jus' put +Susan Jemima on the table." + +"Thank you," returned her visitor, obeying instructions, seating himself +and loosening the upper buttons of his coat. On his neck, suspended by +a chain, was a silver locket containing the miniature of a plump and +pretty child. It had lain there since the war began, through many a +bivouac, many a weary march, and even in the charge he could feel it +tapping against his breast; so now, as he held it out to Virgie, the +father's hand was trembling. + +"There she is. My Gertrude--my little Gertrude." + +Virgie leaned forward eagerly. + +"Oh!" she said, in unaffected admiration, "She's _mighty_ pretty. +She's--" The child stopped suddenly, and raised her eyes. "An' she's +fat, too. I reckon Gertrude gets lots to eat, doesn't she?" + +"Why, yes," agreed the father, thinking of his comfortable Northern +home; "of course. Don't you?" + +Virgie weighed the question thoughtfully before she spoke. + +"Sometimes--when Daddy gets through the lines and brings it to me." + +The soldier started violently, wrenched back from the selfish dream of +happiness that rose as he looked at the picture of his child. + +"What! Is _that_ why your father comes?" + +"Yes, sir." + +"I didn't know! I thought he came--" + +He rose to his feet and turned away, his thoughts atumble, a pang of +parental pity gnawing at his heart; then he wheeled and faced her, +asking, with a break in his husky voice: + +"And at other times--what do you eat, then?" + +She made a quaint, depreciating gesture toward the appointments of her +breakfast table. + +"Blackberries--an'--an' coffee made out of aco'ns." + +Again the troubled conqueror turned away. + +"Oh, it's a shame!" he muttered between his teeth. "A wicked shame!" + +He stood for a moment, silently, till Virgie spoke and jarred him with +another confidence. + +"My cousin Norris told me that the Yankees have bread every day; an' +tea--an' milk--an' everything. _An' butter!_" + +This last-named article of common diet was mentioned with an air of +reverential awe; and, somehow, it hurt the well-fed Union officer far +more than had she made some direct accusation against the invading +armies of the North. + +"Don't, Virgie--please," he murmured softly. "There are some things we +just can't bear to listen to--even in times of war." He sighed and +dropped into his former seat, striving gently to change the subject. +"You have lived here--always?" + +"Oh, no," she assured him, with a lift of her small, patrician brows. +"_This_ is the overseer's house. _Our_ house used to be up on the hill, +in the grove." + +"_Used_ to be--?" + +"Yes, sir. But--but the Yankees burnt it up." + +Morrison's fist came down on the table with a crash. He remembered now +his raid of some months before upon this same plantation, so unfamiliar +in its present neglected state. Again he looked into the fearless eyes +of a Southern gentlewoman who mocked him while her lover husband swam +the river and escaped. Again he saw the mansion wrapped in flame and +smoke--the work of a drunken fiend in his own command. Yes, he +remembered now; too well; then he turned to the child and spoke: + +"Tell me about it. Won't you?" + +She nodded, wriggled from her chair, and stood beside the table. + +"Oh, it was a long time ago--a month, maybe--an' they came after our +horses. Mamma an' me were all by ourselves--'ceptin' Uncle Billy and +Sally Ann. An' we were dreadful scared--an' we hid in the ice house." + +She paused. Her listener had leaned his elbow on the table, his hand +across his eyes. + +"Yes, dear. Go on." + +The child had been standing opposite, with Susan Jemima and the +acorn-coffee pot between them; but gradually she began to edge a little +nearer, till presently she stood beside him, fingering a shiny button on +his coat. + +"An' the blue boys ate up everything we had--an' took our corn. An' when +they went away from our house, they--a man set it on fire. But another +man got real mad with him, an'--an' shot him. _I_ know, 'cause Uncle +Billy put him in the ground." She paused, then sank her voice to a +whisper of mysterious dread, "An'--_an' I saw him!_" + +"Don't think about it, Virgie," begged Morrison, slipping his arm about +the mite, and trying not to put his own beloved ones in the little +rebel's place. "What happened then?" + +"We came to live here," said Virgie; "but Mamma got sick. Oh, she got +terrible sick--an' one night Daddy came through, and put her in the +ground, too. But _he_ says she's jus' asleep." + +The soldier started. Mrs. Cary dead? This poor tot motherless? He drew +the baby closer to him, stroking her hair, as her sleeping mother might +have done, and waited for the rest. + +"An' las' Friday, Sally Ann went away--I don't know where--an'--" + +"What?" asked Morrison. "She left you here--all by yourself?" + +"Yes, sir," said the child, with a careless laugh. "But _I_ don't mind. +Sally Ann was a triflin' nigger, anyhow. You see--" + +"Wait a minute," he interrupted, "what became of the old colored man +who--" + +"Uncle Billy? Yes, sir. We sent him up to Richmond--to get some things, +but he can't come back--the Yankees won't let him." + +"Won't they?" + +"No, sir. An' Daddy's been tryin' to get me up to Richmon', where my +Aunt Margaret lives at, but he can't--'cause the Yankees are up the +river an' down the river, an'--an' everywhere--an' he can't." She +paused, as Morrison turned to her from his restless pacing up and down. +"My, but you've got fine clo'es! Daddy's clo'es are all rags--with--with +holes in 'em." + +He could not answer. There was nothing for him to say, and Virgie +scorched him with another question: + +"What did you come after Daddy for?" + +"Oh, not because I _wanted_ to, little girl," he burst out harshly. "But +you wouldn't understand." He had turned away, and was gazing through the +open door, listening to the muttered wrath of the big black guns far +down the river. "It's war! One of the hateful, pitiful things of war! I +came because I had my orders." + +"From your Gen'ral?" + +He lowered his chin, regarding her in mild astonishment. + +"Yes--my General." + +"An' do you love _him_--like _I_ love Gen'ral Lee?" + +"Yes, dear," he answered earnestly; "of course." + +He wondered again to see her turn away in sober thought, tracing lines +on the dusty floor with one small brown toe; for the child was wrestling +with a problem. If a soldier had orders from his general, as she herself +might put it, "he was _bound_ to come"; but still it was hard to +reconcile such duty with the capture of her father. Therefore, she +raised her tiny chin and resorted to tactics of a purely personal +nature: + +"An' didn't you know, if you hurt my daddy, I'd tell Uncle Fitz Lee on +you?" + +"No," the Yankee smiled. "Is he your uncle?" + +The littlest rebel regarded him with a look of positive pity for his +ignorance. + +"He's _everybody's_ uncle," she stated warmly. "An' if I was to tell +him, he'd come right after you an'--an' lick the _stuffins_ out of +you." + +The soldier laughed. + +"My dear," he confided, with a dancing twinkle in hip eye, "to tell you +the honest truth, your Uncle Fitz has done it already--_several_ times." + +"Has he?" she cried, in rapturous delight. "Oh, _has_ he?" + +"He has," the enemy repeated, with vigor and conviction. "But suppose we +shift our conversation to matters a shade more pleasant. Take you, for +instance. You see--" He stopped abruptly, turning his head and listening +with keen intentness. "What's that?" he asked. + +"_I_ didn't hear anything," said Virgie, breathing very fast; but she +too had heard it--a sound above them, a scraping sound, as of someone +lying flat along the rafters and shifting his position and, while she +spoke, a telltale bit of plaster fell, and broke as it struck the floor. + +Morrison looked up, starting as he saw the outlines of the closely +fitting scuttle, for the loft was so low and shallow that he had not +suspected its presence from an outside view; but now he was certain of +the fugitive's hiding-place. Virgie watched him, trembling, growing hot +in the pit of her little stomach; yet, when he faced her, she looked him +squarely in the eye, fighting one last battle for her daddy--as hopeless +as the tottering cause of the Stars and Bars. + +"You--you don't think he can fly, do you?" + +"No, little Rebel," the soldier answered gently, sadly; "but there are +other ways." He glanced at the table, measuring its height with the +pitch of the ceiling, then turned to her again: "Is your father in that +loft?" She made no answer, but began to back away. "Tell me the truth. +Look at me!" Still no answer, and he took a step toward her, speaking +sternly: "Do you hear me? _Look_ at me!" + +She tried; but her courage was oozing fast. She had done her best, but +now it was more than the mite could stand; so she bit her lip to stop +its quivering, and turned her head away. For a moment the man stood, +silent, wondering if it was possible that the child had been coached in +a string of lies to trade upon his tenderness of heart; then he spoke, +in a voice of mingled pity and reproach: + +"And so you told me a story. And all the rest--is a story, too. Oh, +Virgie! Virgie!" + +"I didn't!" she cried, the big tears breaking, out at last. "I didn't +tell you stories'. Only jus' a _little_ one--for Daddy--an' Gen'ral +Lee." + +She was sobbing now, and the man looked down upon her in genuine +compassion, his own eyes swimming at her childish grief, his soldier +heart athrob and aching at the duty he must perform. + +"I'm sorry, dear," he sighed, removing her doll and dragging the table +across the floor to a point directly beneath the scuttle in the ceiling. + +"What are you goin' to do?" she asked in terror, following as he moved. +"Oh, what are you goin' to do?" + +He did not reply. He could not; but when he placed a chair upon the +table and prepared to mount, then Virgie understood. + +"You shan't! You shan't!" she cried out shrilly. "He's my daddy--and you +shan't." + +She pulled at the table, and when he would have put her aside, as gently +as he could, she attacked him fiercely, in a childish storm of passion, +sobbing, striking at him with her puny fists. The soldier bowed his head +and moved away. + +"Oh, I can't! I can't!" he breathed, in conscience-stricken pain. "There +_must_ be some other way; and still--" + +He stood irresolute, gazing through the open door, watching his men as +they hunted for a fellow man; listening to the sounds that floated +across the stricken fields--the calls of his troopers; the locusts in +the sun-parched woods chanting their shrill, harsh litany of drought; +but more insistent still came the muffled boom of the big black guns far +down the muddy James. They called to him, these guns, in the +hoarse-tongued majesty of war, bidding him forget himself, his love, his +pity--all else, but the grim command to a marching host--a host that +must reach its goal, though it marched on a road of human hearts. + +The soldier set his teeth and turned to the little rebel, deciding on +his course of action; best for her, best for the man who lay in the +loft above, though now it must seem a brutal cruelty to both. + +"Well, Virgie," he said, "since you haven't told me what I want to know, +I'll have to take you--and give you to the Yankees." + +He stepped toward her swiftly and caught her by the wrist. She screamed +in terror, fighting to break his hold, while the trap above them opened, +and the head and shoulders of the Southerner appeared, his pistol held +in his outstretched hand. + +"Drop it, you hound!" he ordered fiercely. "Drop it!" + +The Northerner released his captive, but stood unmoved as he looked into +the pistol's muzzle and the blazing eyes of the cornered scout. + +"I'm sorry," he said, in quiet dignity. "I'm very sorry; but I had to +bring you out." He paused, then spoke again: "And you needn't bother +about your gun. If you'd had any ammunition, our fire would have been +returned, back yonder in the woods. The game's up, Cary. Come down!" + + + + +CHAPTER VI + + +The head and shoulders disappeared. A short pause followed, then the +ladder came slowly down, and the Southerner descended, while Virgie +crouched, a sobbing little heap, beside her doll. But when he reached +the bottom rung, she rose to her feet and ran to meet him, weeping +bitterly. + +"Oh, Daddy, Daddy, I didn't do it right! I didn't do it right!" + +She buried her head in his tattered coat, while he slipped an arm about +her and tried to soothe a sorrow too great for such a tiny heart to +bear. + +"But you did do it right," he told her. "It was my fault. Mine! My leg +got cramped, and I had to move." He stooped and kissed her. "It was _my_ +fault, honey; but you?--you did it _splendidly_!" He patted her +tear-stained cheek, then turned to his captor, with a grim, hard smile +of resignation to his fate. + +"Well, Colonel, you've had a long chase of it; but you've gotten my +brush at last." + +The Union soldier faced him, speaking earnestly: + +"Captain Cary, you're a brave man--and one of the best scouts in the +Confederate army. I regret this happening--more than I can say." The +Southerner shrugged his shoulders. His Northern captor asked: "Are you +carrying dispatches?" + +"No." + +"Any other papers?--of any kind?" No answer came, and he added sternly: +"It is quite useless to refuse. Give them to me." + +He held out his hand, but his captive only looked him in the eyes; and +the answer, though spoken in an undertone, held a world of quiet +meaning: + +"You can take it--_afterwards_." + +The Federal officer bit his lip; and yet he could not, would not, be +denied. His request became demand, backed by authority and the right of +might, till Virgie broke in, in a piping voice of indignation: + +"You can't have it! It's mine! My pass to Richmon'--from Gen'ral Lee." + +Morrison turned slowly from the little rebel to the man. + +"Is this true?" he asked. + +The Southerner flushed, and for reply produced the rumpled paper from +his boot leg, and handed it over without a word. The Northerner read it +carefully. + + "_Pass Virginia Cary and escort through all Confederate lines and + give safe-conduct wherever possible._ + + "R.E. LEE, _General_." + +The reader crushed the paper in his fist, while his hand sank slowly to +his side, then he raised his head and asked, in a voice which was +strangely out of keeping with a Lieutenant-Colonel of the Union Cavalry: + +"And who was to be her escort? You?" + +The captive nodded, smiling his sad, grim smile; and the captor +swallowed hard as he moved to the cabin door and stood listening to the +muttered rumble of the river guns. + +"I'm sorry, Cary," he whispered brokenly; "more sorry than you can +understand." + +For a long time no one spoke, then the Southerner went to Virgie, +dropping his hand in tenderness on her tumbled hair. + +"Just go into your room, honey; I want to talk to Colonel Morrison." She +looked up at him doubtfully; but he added, with a reassuring smile: +"It's all right, darling. I'll call you in just a minute." + +Still Virgie seemed to hesitate. She shifted her doubting eyes toward +the Union officer, turned, and obeyed in silence, closing the door of +the adjoining room behind her. Then the two men faced each other, +without the hampering presence of the child, each conscious of the +coming tragedy that both, till now, had striven manfully to hide. The +one moved forward toward a seat, staggering as he walked, and catching +himself on the table's edge, while the other's hand went out to lend him +aid; but the Southerner waved him off. + +"Thank you," he said, as he sank into a chair. "I don't _want_ +help--from _you_!" + +"Why not?" asked Morrison. + +"Because," said Cary, in sullen anger, "I don't ask quarter, nor aid, +from a man who frightens children." + +The Northerner's chin went up; and when he replied his voice was +trembling; not in passion, but with a deeper, finer something which had +gripped his admiration for the courage of a child: + +"And I wouldn't hurt a hair of her splendid little head!" He paused, +then spoke again, more calmly: "You thought me a beast to frighten her; +but don't you know it was the only thing to do? Otherwise my men might +have had to shoot you--before her eyes." Cary made no answer, though now +he understood; and Morrison went on: "It isn't easy for me to track a +fellow creature down; to take him when he's wounded, practically +unarmed, and turn him over to a firing squad. But it's war, my +friend--one of the merciless realities of war--and you ought to know the +meaning of its name." + +"Yes, I know," returned the Southerner, with all the pent-up bitterness +of a hopeless struggle and defeat; "it has taken three years to teach +me--_and I know_! Look at me!" he cried, as he stood up in his rags and +spread his arms. "Look at my country, swept as bare as a stubble field! +You've whipped us, maybe, with your millions of money and your endless +men, and now you are warring with the women and the children!" He turned +his back and spoke in the deep intensity of scorn: "A fine thing, +Colonel! And may you get your ... reward!" + +The Northerner set his lips in a thin, cold line; but curbed his wrath +and answered the accusation quietly: + +"There are two sides to the question, Cary; _but there must be one +flag_!" + +"Then fly your flag in justice!" the Southerner retorted hotly, wheeling +on his enemy, with blazing eyes and with hands that shook in the stress +of passion. "A while ago you called me a brave man and a good scout; +and, because I'm both, your people have set a price on me. Five hundred +dollars--alive or dead!" He laughed; a hoarse, harsh travesty of mirth, +and added, with a lip that curled in withering contempt: "Alive or dead! +A gentleman and a scout!--for just half the price of one good, sound +nigger! By Heaven, it makes me proud!" + +Lieutenant-Colonel Morrison looked across the table at his prisoner, and +answered gravely, yet with a touch of sternness in his military tone: + +"You are more than a scout, Cary. You've carried dispatches, and +intercepted ours; for both of which, if taken, you would have been a +prisoner of war, no more. But you've entered our lines--not in a uniform +of gray, _but blue_--and you've cost us the loss of two important +battles." + +"And had you done the same," returned the Southerner, "for you it would +have meant promotion. I've served my cause as best I could; in the +saddle or the rifle pit; in the woods, or creeping through your lines. +If I've cost you a battle, my life is a puny price to pay, and I'd pay +it without a sigh." He paused and sank into his seat. "For myself, I +don't care much. I'm worn out, anyway; and I only wanted to get my +little girl to Richmond." At the thought of Virgie his anger returned to +him, and he once more staggered to his feet. + +"But you," he accused, "you've beaten a baby by the force of arms! +You've run me to earth--and you've blocked her chance! It's Virgie you +are fighting now--not me--yes, just as if you rode her down with a troop +of horse! A fine thing, Colonel! For you, a brevet! For me, a firing +squad! Well, call in your men and get it over!" Again he smiled; a grim, +slow smile of bitterness and scorn. "Bravo, Colonel Morrison! Bravo! You +add one other glory to your conquering sword--and, besides, you'll +receive five hundred dollars in reward!" + +The Northerner turned upon him fiercely, goaded at last to the +breaking-point in a struggle as black and awful as the struggle of his +brother-foe. + +"Stop it, man!" he cried. "I order you to stop! It's duty!--not a +miserable reward!" His cheeks were flaming; his muscles quivered, and +his fists were clenched. "Do you actually suppose," he asked, "that I'm +proud of this? Do you think I'm wringing blood out of your heart and +mine--for money?" + +They faced each other, two crouching, snarling animals, the raw, +primeval passions of their hearts released, each seeing through a mist +of red; a mist that had risen up to roll across a mighty land and plunge +its noblest sons into a bloody ruck of war. + +They faced each other, silently; then slowly the features of the +Southerner relaxed. His bitterness was laid aside. He spoke, in the +soft, slow accent of his people--an accent so impossible to a trick of +print or pen. + +"I'm glad you feel that way; and maybe, after all, you're doing what you +think is right. Yes--and I know it's hard." He stopped, then stepped a +little nearer, timidly, as Virgie might have done. "Colonel," he said, +scarce audibly, "I ask you just one thing; not for myself, but for +her--for Virgie. Get the poor little tad through your lines, will +you?--and--and don't let her know--about _me_." + +His captor did not answer him in words, because of the pain that took +him by the throat; but his hand went out, till it reached another hand +that gripped it gratefully. + +"Thank you, Morrison," said the prisoner simply. "If it wasn't war +times--" + +He choked, and said no more; yet silence proved more eloquent than human +speech. They were men--brave men--and both were grateful; the one, +because an enemy would keep his unspoken word; the other, because a +doomed man understood. + +Cary opened the door of his daughter's room and called to her. She came +in quickly, a question in her big brown eyes. + +"Daddy," she said, "you talked a mighty long time. It was a heap more +than jus' a minute." + +"Was it?" he asked, and forced a smile. "Well, you see, we had a lot to +say." He seated himself and, drawing her between his knees, took both +her hands. "Now listen, honey; I'm going away with this gentleman, +and--" He stopped as she looked up doubtfully; then added a dash of +gayety to his tender tone: "Oh, but he _invited_ me. And think! He's +coming back for _you_--to-day--to send you up to Richmond. Now, isn't +that just fine?" + +Virgie looked slowly from her father to the Union soldier, who stood +with downcast eyes, his back to them. + +"Daddy," she whispered, "he's a right good Yankee--isn't he?" + +"Yes, dear," her father murmured sadly, and in yearning love for the +baby he must leave behind; "yes--he's mighty good!" + +He knelt and folded her in his arms, kissing her, over and over, while +his hand went fluttering about her soft brown throat; then he wrenched +himself away, but stood for a lingering instant more, his hands +outstretched, atremble for a last and lingering touch, his heart a +racing protest at the parting he must speak. + +"Cary!" + +It was Morrison who spoke, in mercy for the man; and once more Cary +understood. He turned to cross the broken door; to face a firing squad +in the hot, brown woods; to cross the gulf which stretched beyond the +rumble of the guns and the snarling lip of war. But even as he turned, a +baby's voice called out, in cheerful parting, which he himself had +failed to speak: + +"Good-by, Daddy-man. I'll see you up in Richmon'." + +The eyes of the two men met and held, in the hardest moment of it all; +for well they knew this hopeful prophecy could never be fulfilled. +Morrison sighed and moved toward the door; but, from its threshold, he +could see his troopers returning at a trot across the fields. + +"Wait," he said to Cary; "I'd rather my men shouldn't know I've talked +with you." He pointed to the scuttle in the ceiling. "Would you mind if +I asked you to go back again? Hurry! They are coming." + +The captured scout saluted, crossed to the ladder, and began to mount. +At the top he paused to smile and blow a kiss to Virgie, then +disappeared, drew up the ladder after him, and closed the trap. + +The captor stood in silence, waiting for his men; yet, while he stood, +the little rebel pattered to his side, slipping her hand in his +confidingly. + +"Mr. Yankee," she asked, and looked up into his face, "are you goin' to +let Daddy come to Richmon', too?" + +Morrison withdrew his hand from hers--withdrew it sharply--flung himself +into a seat beside the table, and began to scribble on the back of +Virgie's rumpled pass; while the child stood watching, trusting, with +the simple trust of her little mother-heart. + +In a moment or two, the troopers came hurrying in, with Corporal Dudley +in the lead. He stood at attention, saluted his superior, and made his +report of failure in the search. + +"Nothing sir. No tracks around the spring, and no traces of the fellow +anywhere; but--" He stopped. His keen eyes marked the changed position +of the table and followed upward. He saw the outlines of the scuttle +above his head, and smiled. "But I'm glad to see that you've had better +luck yourself." + +"Yes, Corporal," said Morrison, with a sharp return of his military +tone, "I think I've found the fox's hole at last." He rose and gave his +orders briskly. "Push that table forward!--there!--below the trap! Two +of you get on it!" He turned to the Corporal, while he himself climbed +up and stood beside his men. "Light that candle and pass it up to me!" +The orders were obeyed. "Now, boys, boost me!--and we'll have him out." + +They raised him, till he pushed the trap aside and thrust his head and +shoulders through the opening. From below they could see him as he waved +the lighted candle to and fro, and presently they heard his voice, that +sounded deep and muffled in the shallow loft: + +"All right, boys! You can let me down." + +He slid to the table and sprang lightly to the floor, facing his +troopers with a smile, half-humorous, half in seeming disappointment, as +he glanced at Virgie. + +"I'm afraid the little rebel's right again. _He isn't there!_" + +"Oh!" cried Virgie, then clapped her hands across her mouth, while the +troopers slowly looked from her into the level eyes of their commanding +officer. He stood before them, straight and tall, a soldier, every inch +of him; and they knew that Lieutenant-Colonel Morrison was lying like a +gentleman. They knew that their chief was staking the name and title of +an honorable soldier against the higher, grander title of "a man." + +Only Corporal Dudley stood disconcerted at the startling statement, but +as there was no help for it he could only strangle an oath and give the +order to pass out. + +"_'Tention! Right face! Forward! March!_" + +They mounted and rode a rod or two away, awaiting orders; while Morrison +stood silently and watched them go. He, too--like Virgie--had wrestled +with a problem, and it stirred him to the depths. As a trooper must +obey, so also must an officer obey a higher will; yes, even as a slave +in iron manacles. The master of war had made his laws; and a servant +broke them, knowingly. A captured scout was a prisoner, no more; a spy +must hang, or fall before the volley of a firing squad. No matter for +his bravery; no matter for the faithful service to his cause, the man +must die! The glory was for another; for one who waved a flag on the +spine of a bloody trench; a trench which his brothers stormed--and gave +the blood. No matter that a spy had made this triumph possible. He had +worn a uniform which was not his own--and the dog must die! + +So ruled the god of warfare; still, did war prescribe disgrace and death +for all? If Cary had crept through the Union lines, to reach the side of +a helpless little one--_yes, even in a coat of blue_--would the Great +Tribunal count his deed accursed? Should fearless human love reap no +reward beyond the crashing epitaph of a firing squad, and the powder +smoke that drifted with the passing of a soul? + +"No! No!" breathed Morrison. "In God's name, give the man his chance!" + +He straightened his back and smiled. He took from the table a rumpled +paper and turned to the littlest factor in the great Rebellion. + +"Here, Virgie! Here's your pass to Richmond--for you and your +escort--through the Federal lines." + +She came to him slowly, wondering; her tiny body quivering with +suppressed excitement, her voice a whispering caress: + +"Do you mean for--for Daddy, too?" + +"Yes, you little rebel!" he answered, choking as he laughed; "but I'm +terribly afraid you'll have to pay me--with a kiss." + +She sprang into his waiting arms, and kissed him as he raised her up; +but when he would have set her down, her little brown hands, with their +berry-stained fingers, clung tightly about his neck. + +"Wait! Wait!" she cried. "Here's another one--for Gertrude! Tell her +it's from Virgie! An' tell her I sent it, 'cause her daddy is jus' the +best damn Yankee that ever was!" + +The trap above had opened, and the head and shoulders of the Southerner +appeared; while Morrison looked up and spoke in parting: + +"It's all right, Cary. I only ask a soldier's pledge that you take your +little girl to Richmond--nothing more. In passing through our lines, +whatever you see or hear--_forget_!" + +A sacred trust it was, of man to man, one brother to another; and +Morrison knew that Herbert Cary would pass through the very center of +the Federal lines, as a _father_, not a spy. + +The Southerner tried to speak his gratitude, but the words refused to +come; so he stretched one trembling hand toward his enemy of war, and +eased his heart in a sobbing, broken call: + +"_Morrison! Some day it will all--be over!_" + + * * * * * + +In the cabin's doorway stood Virgie and her father, hand in hand. They +watched a lonely swallow as it dipped across the desolate, unfurrowed +field. They listened to the distant beat of many hoofs on the river road +and the far, faint clink of sabers on the riders' thighs; and when the +sounds were lost to the listeners at last, the notes of a bugle came +whispering back to them, floating, dipping, even as the swallow dipped +across the unfurrowed fields. + +But still the two stood lingering in the doorway, hand in hand. The +muddy James took up his murmuring song again; the locusts chanted in the +hot, brown woods to the basso growl of the big, black guns far down the +river. + +A sad, sad song it was; yet on its echoes seemed to ride a haunting, +hopeful memory of the rebel's broken call, "Some day it will all be +over!" + +And so the guns growled on, slow, sullen, thundering forth the +battle-call of a still unconquered enmity; but only that peace might +walk "some day" in the path of the shrieking shells. + + + + +CHAPTER VII + + +It was afternoon and over on the eastern side of the James where the old +Turnpike leads up over the rolling hills to Richmond the sun was pouring +down a flood of heat. The 'pike was ankle deep with dust and the fine, +white powder, churned into floury softness by artillery and the myriad +iron heels of war, had settled down on roadside bush and tree and vine +till all the sweet green of summer hung its head under the hot weight +and longed for a cooling shower which would wash it clean. + +In fairer times the Pike had been an active thoroughfare for the +plantations and hundreds of smaller truck farms which fed the capitol, +but of late months nearly all this traffic had disappeared. For the days +of the Confederacy were drawing slowly but none the less surely to a +close. + +Inside the breastworks and far flung fortifications which encompassed +Richmond the flower of the rebel arms, the Army of Northern Virginia, +lay like a rat caught in a trap. On three sides, north, east and south +the Army of the Potomac under Grant beleaguered the city while the +tireless Sheridan, with that lately developed arm of the Federals, the +cavalry, raided right and left and struck hard blows at the crumbling +cause where they were least expected. Yet in this same dark hour there +had been a ray of light. Once the Confederacy had come within +hairbreadth of overwhelming success, for Early's hard riding troopers +had made a dash for Washington but a few weeks before and, with the +prize almost in their grasp, had only been turned back by a great force +which the grim, watchful Grant suddenly threw in between their guns and +the gleaming dome of the nation's capitol. + +But even this small success was not for long for when Early, crossing +over into the luscious valley of the Shenandoah, began to scourge it +with his hosts and threaten a raid into Pennsylvania, Sheridan broke +loose from the restriction of telegraph wires and followed him to the +death and finally broke the back of the great raid with his mad gallop +from Winchester. + +Meanwhile around Richmond, Lee and Grant, a circle within a circle, were +constantly feeling each other out, shifting their troops from point to +point in attack and defense,--for all the world like two fighting dogs +hunting for an opening in the fence. And all the time the grim, quiet +man in blue kept contracting his lines around the wonderful tactician in +gray until the whole world came to know that unless Lee could break +through the gap to the southwest the end of the war was plainly in +sight. + +And so it happened that on this hot July day the only sign of life on +the 'pike was a small cloud of dust which drifted lazily in the wake of +two people who passed along the road on foot. + +One of the two was a tired, gaunt man in a ragged uniform of gray who +stared up the long, hot road ahead of him with eyes in which there was, +in spite of every discouragement the light of a certain firm resolve. + +The other of the two was a child with bare, brown legs and tattered +gingham dress who limped painfully along beside the man, her sunny hair +in a tangle half across her pinched and weary little face. + +At a faint sigh of exhaustion from the child the man looked down, +gathered her up in his arms and perched her on his shoulder. Then he +plodded on again, a prey to weariness and hunger. The turning point in +Herbert Cary's life had come. Thanks to a generous enemy; Virgie and he +were now reasonably sure of food if once they could reach the +Confederate lines but as for himself, with the woman he had loved asleep +forever beneath the pines, the future could only be an unending, barren +stretch of gray. + +Then, almost as quickly, recollection of his duty towards her whom he +carried in his arms came to him and he raged at himself for his moment +of selfish discouragement. Spurred on by the necessity of gaining a +point of safety for his child he began to calculate the distance yet to +be covered and their chances of gaining friendly lines before +encountering scouting parties of Federals. Behind him, a few miles south +on the other bank of the James at Light House Point Sheridan was in camp +with two brigades and Cary knew this fast riding, hard striking +cavalryman too well not to suspect that the country, even in front of +him, was alive with Union men. There was the pass which Morrison had +given him, of course, but the worth of a pass in war time often depends +more on him who receives it than on the signature. + +But all those things, even food, would have to wait for a while because +he was consumed with thirst and must find water before he went another +mile forward. + +A tired sigh from Virgie caught his ear and he stopped by a stone wall +and let her get down from his shoulder. The child stood up on the broad, +flat stones and then gave a little cry of pain. She raised one foot up +and nursed it against her dusty, brown leg, meanwhile clutching her doll +closer to her neck. + +"It's all right, honey; be a brave little girl," her father said +consolingly. "There's a spring along here somewhere and we can look +after that poor little foot. Ah, there it is," he cried, as he caught +sight of a big rock behind a stone wall with a seepage of water under it +among some trees at one side. "Just sit still a minute--till I rest--and +then we'll have a look." He leaned back against the wall and closed his +eyes to shut out the dizziness with which exhaustion and hunger filled +his aching head. + +The child watched him anxiously for a moment and then put a soft little +hand on his shoulder: + +"Are you _so_ tired, Daddy-man?" + +"Yes, dear," he answered with a faint smile as he opened his eyes. "I +had to catch my breath, but I'm really all right. Now then, we'll call +in the hospital corps." + +Virgie slipped down and sat on the top of the wall with her foot in her +hand, rocking to and fro, but bravely saying nothing until her father's +eye caught the look of pain on her pinched face. + +"Does it hurt you much, dear?" he asked. + +"Yes, sir. It--it hurts like the mischief," answered Virgie in a small +voice. "It keeps jumping up and down." + +"Little woman, that's too bad," he said with a consoling pat on the head +which seemed to take most of the pain away. "But after we bathe it and +tie it up it will feel better." + +Kneeling beside the spring he took off his campaign hat of felt and +dipped it full of clear, cold water. + +"Wow!" cried Virgie suddenly in the interval and she slapped her leg +with a resounding whack. "There are 'skeeters roun' this place. One of +'em bit me--an old _he_ one. Jiminy!" + +"Did he?" asked her father, smiling as he came back with the hat. "Well, +honey, there are much worse things in this world than those little +fellows and if you don't complain any more than that you're going to be +a very happy lady when you grow up." + +"Like Mamma?" asked the little tot, with a thoughtful face. + +"Just like Mamma," the man repeated. "The loveliest--the bravest--and +the _best_." He wavered a little on his feet and the hat threatened to +slip through his fingers, but his daughter's great, dark eyes were +steady on his and, curiously enough, he seemed to draw strength to pull +himself together. + +"And now, let's see. We'll have to get the grime off first. Just dip the +little wounded soldier in." + +"What! My foot in your hat!" protested Virgie with a little scream. "Oh, +you poor daddy!" + +"Why, that's all right, honey," he laughed, pleased at her daintiness. +"That hat's an old veteran. He don't mind anything. So--souse her in. + +"There--easy now--_easy_" as she threatened to capsize this curious +basin. "Big toe first. + +"Yes, I know it's cold," he laughed as the water stung the broken skin +and made her twitch involuntarily, "but bathing will do it good. I just +know it feels better already--doesn't it?" + +"Yes, sir," answered Virgie meekly, "only--it jumps up and down harder +than ever. But of course I know it must be getting better." + +"Good! What did I tell you? Now let Daddy look." + +He lifted her foot up tenderly and examined it with care. "My, my!" he +murmured. "You poor little soldier. If I hadn't looked around that time +I expect you'd been willing to walk all the way to Richmond on a foot +that would make a whole regiment straggle. Just see where you've cut +it--right under the second little piggie. We'll have to tie it right up +and keep the bothersome old dust from getting in. By morning you'll +hardly feel it." + +With a soldier's readiness he opened his coat and began to tear a strip +from his shirt from which to make a bandage. But his small daughter +interrupted him with a vigorous protest. + +"Wait!" she cried, with a face full of alarm at the willful destruction +of his garment. "Don't do that. Here! You can take it off my petticoat." + +"_That_ petticoat," her father laughed, with the first real mirth she +had heard for many weeks. "That poor little petticoat wouldn't make an +arm bandage for Susan Jemima. Now--up with your hoofie and let's play +I'm a surgeon and you're a brave soldier who has fought in every battle +since we first made the Yanks skedaddle at Bull Run." + +With the painful foot securely bandaged the little girl gave herself up +to thought, emerging from her study at last to ask what was an +all-important question. + +"Daddy--" + +"Yes?" + +"Do you reckon, by the time the war is over, we could call Susan Jemima +a vet'ran?" + +"I should say we could," the father agreed heartily, without the symptom +of a smile. "Hasn't she grown bald in the service? And hasn't she almost +lost an arm--or is it a leg I see dangling so terribly? I'll tell you +what we'll do! We'll give her an honorable discharge--and decorate her. +How's that?" + +"Oh, fine!" she cried, clapping her hands with delight at the fantasy. +"And we'll get that Yankee man to write her a pass just like mine. Do +you hear that, Cap'n Susan," she crooned to the doll, unconscious of the +convulsion of silent amusement beside her. "When we get to Richmon'--if +we ever _do_ get there--I'm going to make you a uniform!" + +Then she turned to her father with a little sigh, for the miles seemed +very long. + +"How far _is_ it to Richmon', Daddy-man?" she said. + +"Just about twelve miles," her father answered. "But they're real old +country miles, I'm sorry to say." + +"Can we get to it to-night?" + +The simple little question made the man's heart ache. What wouldn't he +give for an hour of Roger once more--or Belle--or Lightfoot! +Anything--even one of the old plantation mules would do if he could only +perch her up on its back and take her into Richmond like a lady and not +like the daughter of poor white trash, tramping, poverty stricken, along +a dusty road. + +"No, dear, not to-night," he sighed. "We've come a long way and we're +both tired. So when it gets dark we'll curl up somewhere in the nice, +sweet woods and take a snooze, just like camping out. And then--in the +morning, when the old sun comes sneaking up through the trees, we'll +fool him! We won't wait till he can make it hot, but we'll get right up +with the birds and the squirrels and we'll just run right along. And by +twelve o'clock we'll be in Richmond--where they have good things to eat. +So there you are--all mapped out. Only now we'll have a belt supper." + +"A belt supper?" queried the child curiously, though her face brightened +at the thought of _any_ kind of supper, made out of belts or any other +thing. + +"Um-hum," asseverated her father gravely. "See--this is the way it's +done." + +He cupped his hands and took a draught from the spring, pretending to +chew it as it went down. "You take a big drink of nice cold water; then +draw up your belt as tight as you can--and say your prayers." + +To his surprise his small daughter only sniffed scornfully. + +"Oh, shucks, Daddy! I know a better way than that. Susan an' me used to +do it all the time while you were away." + +"What did you do?" he asked curiously, for he had forgotten that more +than half the childish play world is the world of "make believe.'" + +"Why, we--we just '_let on_,'" she answered, with simple naïveté. "Sit +down an' I'll show you how." + +He sat down obediently, but not before he had picked up an old tin can +from nearby and set it carefully between them. + +"This rock is our table--the moss is the table cloth. Oh, it isn't +green," she cried as he looked down in serious doubt. "You must _help_ +me make believe. Now--doesn't it look nice and white?" + +"It does, indeed. I can see nothing but snowy linen of the finest +texture," he responded instantly. + +"That's better," complimented his hostess. And then with a grand air-- + +"I'm so glad you dropped in, sir--an' just at supper time. Pass your +plate an' allow me to help you to some batter bread." + +"Batter bread! Ah, just what I was hoping for," her guest replied, +thankfully extending his plate for the imaginary feast. + +"Thank you. Delicious. The very best I've tasted for a year. Did you +make it yourself?" + +"Oh, dear, no--the cook." + +"Ah, of course! Pray pardon me, I might have known." + +The little hostess inclined her head. "Take plenty of butter. 'Cause +batter bread isn't good 'thout butter." + +"Thank you--what lovely golden butter. And--goodness gracious! What is +this I see before me? Can this really be a sausage?" + +"Yes, sir," laughed Virgie with delight. "And there's the ham. I smoked +it myself over hick'ry wood. Please help yourself." + +She pretended to arrange a cup and saucer in front of her and held +daintily in her fingers a pair of imaginary sugar tongs. + +"Coffee? How many lumps? And _do_ you take cream?" + +"Five, please--and a little cream. There--just right." + +She passed the cup gracefully and added a little moue of concern for the +efficiency of her ménage. + +"I'm afraid you won't find it very hot," said this surprising young +hostess. "That butler of mine is growing absolutely _wuthless_." + +"Then perhaps we can have something better," her guest responded +readily, and he picked up the battered old tin can. "Permit me, Miss +Cary, to offer you a glass of fine old blackberry wine which I carefully +brought with me to your beautiful home. It has been in my family wine +cellars since 1838. + +"Well--" he cried, as Virgie suddenly sat back with a look of painful +recollection on her face. + +"Oh, Daddy," she murmured pathetically, "_don't_ let's call it +_blackberry_ wine." + +"Forgive me, darling," her father said tenderly, and he took the small +face between his hands and kissed her. "There, now--it's all right. It's +_all right_." + +To create a diversion he looked behind him with a frown and spoke with +great severity to an imaginary waiter. + +"Here, _Jo_! How dare you bring such terribly reminiscent stuff to our +table. Go get the port. + +"We'll surely have to discharge that butler," he said. "He's too +shiftless. And now, fair lady, will you honor me by joining the humblest +of your admirers in a sip of port." + +"With pleasure," answered his hostess, and lifted the can of water in +both hands. "Your health, sir. May your shadow never grow littler." + +Half way through her drink Virgie stopped and slowly put the can down. +She looked at her father, who already had his finger at his lips. Voices +had come to them from down the road--the sounds of a party of men +talking and laughing as they marched along. + +Cary's face took on again the grim lines which had been wiped away +momentarily by their little bit of play. He was trying to make himself +believe that the approaching party might be friends, although he knew +only too well that such a possibility was full of doubt. There were too +many scouting parties of Federals ready to pounce on Rebel patrols in +these perilous days to allow any but large forces of men to venture far +from Richmond, and when his own men sallied forth they did not go with +laughter but with tightly drawn, silent lips. + +"S-s-s-h," he whispered, and held up his finger again, as she seemed +ready to burst into questioning. + +Immediately she snuggled close to him and whispered hotly in his ear, +"Who are they, Daddy?" + +"I don't know, honey," he whispered back. "But I'm afraid they're Yanks. +Keep quiet till they pass." And quickly deserting the stone under the +trees where they had had their "belt supper" he drew her with him behind +the large ledge of rock from under which the spring flowed out. Looking +behind them he saw that with good luck they could reach the shelter of +the woods and get up over the hill without being seen. But just now they +could not stir from their hiding place unless--unless the men were +Confederates. This faint hope, however, soon flickered out when he saw +the color of their uniforms. + +Up the road came four dismounted men with a corporal in command. They +were taking it easy as they walked along, their caps thrust back, their +coats open and their Sharps' carbines carried in the variety of ways +that a soldier adopts to ease his shoulder of the burden that grows +heavier with every mile. + +"Here's the place, boys," the Corporal called out as his eye fell on the +spring. "We can get some decent water, now. That James River water's too +yellow for any white man to put inside of him." + +At the sound of a voice which he had heard that same morning while he +hid in the attic of the overseer's cabin Cary's hold on his daughter's +hand tightened warningly. + +"Come along, Virgie," he whispered. "We'll get out of the way." + +"But, Daddy," she protested in low tones, "we've got our pass." + +"Yes, yes, I know," he answered, with a twinge of regret that the rest +of the world could not trust so faithfully to human kindness. "But +that's for emergency. Come along, honey--quick!" + +Silently as a shadow the two stole out of the shelter of the ledge of +rock, and by dint of keeping it between them and the troopers, managed +to cover most of the open space between the spring and the protecting +trees without being seen. Meanwhile, they heard the Corporal giving his +commands. + +"You, Collins, take sentry duty out there in the road for a while. As +soon as we make the coffee we'll bring you out a cup. Now--over the wall +with you, men." + +Leaving one man behind to pace slowly up and down the dusty road the +four sprang over the wall and advanced towards the spring. It was well +the sight of the cool water held their eyes for if they had only looked +up they might have seen Virgie wresting her hand out of her father's +grasp and standing suddenly petrified with the thought that she had left +behind her one beloved possession. + +"Here's the spring, Smith--under the rock. Fill up the canteens. Here, +Harry, help me get fire wood." + +With a soldier's readiness when it comes to making camp one of the +troopers promptly collected the canteens and knelt down by the spring, +carefully submerging one at a time so as to get the sweet, cold water in +all its purity. Another opened the knapsacks and took out a can of +coffee, biscuits and some scraps of meat--not much with which to make a +meal but still so much more than many a Rebel soldier had that day as to +take on the proportions of a feast. Meanwhile, Corporal Dudley had drawn +his saber and was engaged in leisurely lopping off the dead branches of +a fallen tree. + +"This strikes me a lot better than the camp," he remarked as he tossed +his firewood into a heap. "A man and his friends can have a quiet drink +here, without treating a whole battalion." + +His eye fell on the ground near the spring as he spoke and he paused. +Then, with a grin on his face, he jabbed his saber into something which +lay there and held it transfixed on the point. + +"Say, boys--look at this," and he shook poor Susan Jemima till her arms +and legs wiggled spasmodically and her dress seemed on the point of +complete disintegration. + +Perhaps, if Corporal Dudley had not laughed derisively Virgie might have +stayed hidden in the protection of the trees, but this outrageous +insult combined with the terrible sight of poor Susan Jemima impaled on +a Yankee sword was too much for her bursting heart. With blazing eyes +she broke away from her father and dashed back to the group at the +spring. + +"Here, you! You stop that," she cried angrily at the astonished +troopers, who caught up their carbines at the sound of feet. "_How dare +you!_" + +There was a moment of surprise and then the four broke out in guffaws of +laughter. + +"Well, hang me if it isn't the little girl we saw this morning," shouted +Dudley, without, however, stopping the torture of the defenseless Susan +Jemima. "Where did _you_ drop from?" + +"Ne'm min' where I dropped from," commanded the wrathful Virgie with her +dark eyes like twin stars of hate. "You're the meanest old thing I ever +saw. _Give me back my baby!_" + +Back in the trees a little way a man was watching with a heavy heart. He +knew only too well what was to come. No matter what the final outcome +might be when he showed his safe-guard to his own army's lines there +would be a delay and searching questions and more of the old insults +which always made his blood boil--which always made the increasing +burden of despair still harder to bear. But there was no use in putting +off the trial--Virgie had slipped away in spite of every whispered +remonstrance and now that she was there in the center of that group of +guffawing Yankees, there, too, was the only place for him. And so, he +stepped out swiftly and faced the enemy. + +"Hah!" shouted Dudley, looking up at the sound of branches crackling +underfoot. "A Johnnie Reb, eh--walking right into camp! That's right, +Harry, keep him covered." + +He looked Cary over from head to foot with a sneer at his tattered +uniform. + +"Well, sir," he asked, "who are you?" + +"A Confederate officer," was the quiet reply, "acting as escort for this +child. We are on our way to Richmond." + +Cary's hand went into the breast of his coat and he drew out a folded +paper. + +"Here is my authority for entering your lines--a pass signed by +Lieutenant-Colonel Morrison." + +At the sound of the name Corporal Dudley started and quickly took the +paper. But before he opened it he gave Cary a keen look which, to the +Confederate officer, did not bode well for the prospect of immediate +release. It seemed as if the man's sharp wits had suddenly seized on +something which he could profitably turn to his own account. + +With his back turned on Cary and Virgie the Corporal unfolded the pass +and studied it carefully, while the troopers gathered behind him and +tried to read its contents over his shoulder. + +"Pwhat does it say?" asked the young Irishman, Harry O'Connell, who had +covered Cary with his carbine. "'Tis a precious bit of paper, bedad--if +it passes him through _me_." + +"It says: 'Pass Virginia Cary and escort through all Federal lines, and +assist them as far as possible in reaching Richmond,'" read the +Corporal. + +Deep in thought he turned the paper over and studied the name on the +back. At the sight of the signature there his mouth fell open and he +uttered a shout of surprise. His eyes brightened and he stepped back +from the group and threw up his head with a look of triumph on his dark +face. He struck the paper a slap with the back of his hand. + +"Morrison on _one_ side--and 'Old Bob' on the _other_" he exclaimed. +"What luck! What a _find_." + +"How so--a find?" + +The man who had had to put his own brother under arrest a few short +weeks before and then had seen him shot through the heart by this same +officer whose name was on the pass looked at the questioner with an ugly +glitter in his eyes. He was beginning to taste already the sweets of +revenge. For blood ties bind, no matter how badly they are stretched, +and long ago Corporal Dudley had sworn to wipe out his grudge. + +"Why, man, can't you see?" he whispered excitedly. "This Johnnie Reb is +the man that was hiding in the cabin loft this morning. Morrison lied +when he said he wasn't there--you remember, he was the only one who +looked--he lied and as soon as he got us out of the way he let him come +down and he gave him _this_. Could any man ask for better proof that we +had the spy right in our hands and then our commanding officer +deliberately let him go?" + +At the sound of the man's excited whispering Cary's fears as to the +value of Virgie's pass grew too strong to warrant this agony of watching +and waiting, and he stepped forward with a sharp question: + +"Well, Corporal, isn't the pass satisfactory?" + +"Oh, perfectly--perfectly," Dudley answered with baleful readiness, but +made no move to return it. + +Cary put out his hand. "Then I would like to have it again, if you +please." + +By way of answer Corporal Dudley carefully found an inside pocket and +buttoned the pass up in his coat. "Oh, no, you don't," he said, with an +evil grin. "I've got a better use for that little piece of paper." + +"What do you mean?" + +"I mean that you're my prisoner, Mister Johnnie Reb," was the brutal +answer. + +"For what?" asked Cary, while his heart grew sick inside him and his +lips twitched. Richmond--and food for Virgie were growing farther away +every moment. + +"Because you're a Rebel _spy_, that's why," came the biting answer. + +"Oh--none of that," as Cary's fists doubled up and he made a forward +step at the Corporal. "I guess you know what's good for you, with three +guns at your back. If Colonel Morrison wouldn't take you as a spy, _I +will!_" + +"Here, boys," he said in brusque command to his men, "we'll have to cut +the supper and take this man to camp. There'll be a sunrise hanging +to-morrow or I miss my guess. Come on, now. Bring him along." + +"Wait a minute, Corporal," O'Connell said. "Sure I've something to say +to ye," and he led him aside where the others could not bear. + +All unconscious of the fatal predicament into which Susan Jemima and +she had got them Virgie looked up at her father from where she stood in +the shelter of his arm. + +"Daddy," she questioned, in a small, puzzled voice, "what are they going +to do?" + +"S-s-s-h," her father commanded as he patted her head comfortingly. +"Everything will be all right, honey, I'm sure." But he had caught +enough of the Corporal's altercation with Trooper O'Connell to make him +see that things were very far from being what he wanted Virgie to +suppose. + +"Ye'd better be careful now," O'Connell said to Dudley. "Ye know well +that if the pass is all right ye'll be getting yerself into a peck o' +trouble." + +"It isn't _me_ that'll get in trouble," Dudley answered, with grim +triumph. "It's someone else." + +"Faith, then, _who_?" was the query. + +"_Morrison_," snapped Dudley, with an ominous click of his teeth. + +"The Colonel? Why?" + +"_Because he helped this spy escape!_ that's why. He killed my brother, +shot him. Shot him down like a dog. But now I'm even with him." + +He shook the pass under the trooper's nose and crowed with satisfaction. + +"I've been waiting for a chance like this," he chortled, "and now I'm +going to make him sweat--sweat blood." + +"Don't be a fool, Corporal," the trooper counseled. "What'll ye be after +doin'?" + +"_Report him, at headquarters_--for helping a spy escape! If I have the +man and _this_," and he slapped the paper, "it'll mean his sword and +shoulder straps--if not a bullet! Come on!" + +He turned away, to scramble over the wall, but Trooper O'Connell caught +his arm. + +"Hold on! Ye may get in trouble." + +In answer Dudley broke away and doggedly kept on towards the stone wall +and the road. "Keep off," he snarled. "_I'm_ running this." + +"I know ye are," the trooper replied, "but wait," and he pointed to the +rear. "Don't forgit that the Colonel's out yonder reconnoiterin'. If he +happened to overtake ye on the road--" + +Struck with the sudden thought Dudley paused. "Well, that's so," he +growled as he saw how easily he could be held for disobeying orders and +how quickly all his plans for vengeance could be smashed. He stood still +for a moment gnawing his lip, then suddenly struck his doubled fist into +the palm of the other hand. + +"Then you stay here to guard the prisoner," he said. "I'll cut through +the woods--make my report--come back with the horses--and my authority." + +"Here, Smith! You and Judson come along with me. Never mind the grub. +We'll get that later." + +Turning to O'Connell, "If you hear anyone coming, take those two into +the woods. Collins! You'll have to stay on sentry duty till I get back. +If any troops pass here, get out of sight at once and give Harry +warning. Now, boys--come along with me--we'll take it on the trot," and +climbing quickly over the wall the man who held two lives in the hollow +of his hand ran down the road with the two troopers, finally cutting +over into the woods and disappearing from view. + +Gary and Virgie stood still by the spring. Out in the road the sentry +paced back and forth. Behind them Trooper O'Connell stood on guard, his +carbine in his arms across his breast. + +Virgie pulled gently at her father's hand. + +"Daddy," she whispered, "are they--are they goin' to carry us off to the +Yankee camp?" + +"I'm afraid so, darling, but I don't know," he answered sadly. "We'll +just have to wait. Wait," he repeated, as he sat down on a rock and drew +her close to him. Without being seen either by Virgie or O'Connell he +picked up a jagged stone the size of his fist and hid it under his knee +against the rock. It would be a poor weapon at best, but Cary had grown +desperate and if the trooper once turned his back and gave him +opportunity poor Harry O'Connell would wake up with a very bad headache +and Virgie would be in Richmond. + +But Virgie's eyes were on neither the hidden stone nor her father's +watchful, relentless face. All that Virgie could see was a knapsack open +on the ground and food--real food displayed round about with a +prodigality which made her mouth water and her eyes as big as saucers. + +"Daddy," she murmured, clutching at his sleeve, "while we are waitin' do +you reckon we could take just a _little_ bit of that?" + +"No, dear--not now," her father answered, with a touch of impatience. It +would be too much, even in those bitter times, to accept a man's food +and then break his head for it. + +"Well," said Virgie, completely mystified at the restraint, "I don't see +why they shouldn't be polite to us. We were just as polite as could be +when the Yankees took our corn." + +Just then the young Irishman with the carbine turned around and caught +the wan look on Virgie's face and the hunger appeal in her big dark +eyes. At once a broad smile broke over his freckled countenance and he +gestured hospitably with his gun. + +"Have somethin' to eat, little wan." + +Cary's knee loosened. The jagged stone fell to the ground. + +"Thank you, old fellow," he cried, springing to his feet. "I can't show +my gratitude to you in any substantial way at present--but God bless +you, just the same." He dropped down on the rock again and hid his face +in his hands. Another moment and the kindhearted trooper might have been +lying face downwards in the muddy ground around the spring. It had been +only touch-and-go, but the man's warm Irish heart had saved him. + +"Oh, that's all right, sir," O'Connell answered freely. "Sure an' _I'd_ +like to see ye get through, though I ain't the Gineral. At least, not +yet," he grinned. + +"There ye are, little girl," he went on, pushing the knapsack over +towards Virgie with the muzzle of his carbine. "Jist help yerself--an' +give yer dad some, too." + +With a little cry of delight Virgie swooped down on the knapsack and +explored its interior with eager hands. + +"I'm much obliged, Mr. Yankee. We cert'ny do need it--bad." She tossed +the tangled hair back from her eyes and looked thankfully up at this +curious person who had so much food that he could really give part of it +away. "Please, Mr. Yankee--won't you tell me your name?" + +"Harry O'Connell, at your service, miss." + +"Thank you," she bowed. "I'm very glad to meet you." Then her searching +hands found something wonderful in the knapsack and she sprang up and +ran with her prizes to her father. + +"Look, Daddy--_two biscuits!_ Take one. It's--it's _real_!" + +Cary's eyes grew moist. + +"Thank you, darling. Thank you." Just now the lump in his throat would +not have allowed him to eat soup, let alone a rather hard biscuit, but +he looked up with a laugh and waved a genial salute to the trooper, who +as genially responded. + +Virgie, however, had become quite single minded since she had discovered +food, and with a happy sigh she raised the biscuit to her lips. Just +then the sentry in the road flung up his hand with a shout. + +"Look out, O'Connell! They're coming," and he clambered quickly over the +wall and dropped behind it, his gun in readiness. + +"What is it?" demanded the other trooper. + +"Detachment of cavalry. A small one." + +"But whose is it, man. Can ye not see?" + +Collins, holding his hand behind him in a gesture which commanded them +to stay where they were, raised his head cautiously over the wall. + +"Morrison's," he answered, after a quick look, and he dropped down again +out of sight. + +At the sound of hoof beats and the name she remembered so well Virgie, +with her biscuit all untasted, sprang up from the ground as if she would +run out on the road. But her father caught her, for O'Connell had turned +to them with a serious face. + +"I'm sorry, sir, but I'll have to trouble ye to get under cover in the +woods. No argymint, sir," he said decisively, as he saw some show of +resistance on Cary's part. "I'm under orders." + +"Yes, yes, I know," Cary cried, impatiently, "but I want to speak to +Colonel Morrison. I _must_ speak to him. Give me a moment, man. You +won't ever regret it." + +"Come now--none o' that," commanded the trooper, pushing him back with +the carbine across his breast. "Don't make me use force, sir. Ye'll have +to go--so go quietly. And mind--no shenanigan!" + +Cary stood his ground for a moment, meeting the trooper eye to eye--then +turned with hanging head and walked a few steps back into the woods. + +"Come, Virgie," he said, "I guess we won't get to see Colonel Morrison +after all." + +But Virgie, being a woman, had her own ideas about what she would or +would not do. At the same moment that the trooper was forcing her father +step by step back into the woods, Virgie was running madly towards the +stone wall and before either of the soldiers could stop her she had +clambered up on its broad top and was calling out to a man who clattered +by at the head of a troop of cavalry. + +"Colonel Morrison! Colonel Morrison!" + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + + +"Halt!" + +At the sound of that piping, childish treble calling his name in so +unexpected a place the officer at the head of the troop threw up his +gauntleted hand and brought the detachment to a standstill in a cloud of +dust. + +"Hello, there," he said, turning curiously around in his saddle. "Who is +it wants me?" + +"It's _me_, Virgie!" the child cried, leaping up and down on the wall, +all forgetful of her sore foot. "Come help Daddy and me--come quick!" + +"Well--what on earth--" + +Morrison threw out a command to his men and, wheeling his horse, spurred +vigorously up to the wall where he dismounted and came up to take a +closer view of the tangle haired little person dancing on one foot. + +"Why--bless my soul if it isn't Virgie!" His arms opened to take her in +when, suddenly, his eye fell on O'Connell, standing at attention on the +other side of the wall. + +"O'Connell," he said, sternly, "what is the meaning of this? Why aren't +you with your detachment?" + +"It isn't _his_ fault," Virgie interposed in stout defense of the nice +Yankee who carried biscuits in his knapsack. "He's under orders." + +The glib use of the military term made a smile flicker across Morrison's +face, but his eyes did not leave the troubled trooper. + +"_Whose_ orders?" he demanded. + +"Corporal Dudley, sir," was the stammering answer. + +At this moment Cary stepped forward and the two officers exchanged nods +of recognition. + +"Let me explain," the Confederate said. "Virgie and I were making for +Richmond as rapidly as we could. Here, by this spring, we were put under +arrest by a corporal and four troopers. Naturally, I presented your +pass, but the corporal refused to honor it. He then left me under guard +and hurried off to headquarters with the pass in his possession." + +At this unwelcome news Morrison's head jerked back as if he had been +struck and his lips tightened. Without the addition of another word to +Cary's story he saw all the dire consequences to himself of what had +been an act of the commonest humanity. Yes, in other times it would have +been what any right thinking human being would have done for another in +distress, but, unhappily, this was war time and the best of motives were +only too often mis-read. In his mind's eye he saw the vindictive Dudley, +eager for a revenge which he could not encompass any other way, laying +the proof of this act before his superiors with an abundance of +collateral evidence which, he knew, would condemn him before any +military tribunal in the world. It mattered not what kindly impulses had +guided his hand when he wrote the safeguard on the other side of the +paper on which Robert E. Lee had previously placed his name, for it is +not the custom of courts martial to weigh the milk of human kindness +against the blood and iron of war. The good and the safety of the +greater number demand the sacrifice of every man who would imperil the +cause by ill considered generosity. Morrison could see that very +presently he would have to answer certain stern questions. + +Yet, there was a chance still that Dudley might be headed off and this +whole miserable business stopped before revenge could set the inexorable +wheels in motion and he whirled round on O'Connell with a sharp +question: + +"Which way did Dudley go?" + +"Down the pike, then over the hill by the wood road, sor--makin' for +headquarters," the young Irishman answered, only too glad of a chance to +help his officer out of what, he saw, was a frightful situation. + +"How long ago?" came back the instant query. + +"Five minutes, sor. Ye cud catch him wid a horse." + +"Ah," exclaimed Morrison, and he threw up his hand to his men. +"Lieutenant Harris," he shouted. "Take a squad and ride to camp by the +wood road. Overtake Corporal Dudley or intercept him at headquarters. +Don't fail! Get him and bring him here!" + +Lieutenant Harris's hand went up to his hat in ready salute and he +bellowed out his orders. + +"Jennings! Hewlett! Brown! Hammond! Burt! 'Bout face. Forward!" Almost +before the words were out of his mouth Harris and his men were riding +madly down the road in a chase, which the Lieutenant suspected, meant +something more to his colonel, than merely the recovery of a +safe-conduct for a Confederate officer and a little girl. + +Morrison turned to Trooper O'Connell and jerked his thumb towards the +road. + +"Report at my quarters this evening--at nine," he said curtly. And the +young Irishman, thankful to be well out of the mess, quickly clambered +over the wall and disappeared though not without a soft voiced farewell +from Virgie. + +"Good-by, Mr. Knapsack Man," called the child. "Thank you for the +biscuits." + +Then Cary came forward and gripped the other's hand. + +"Colonel," he said earnestly, with full appreciation of what was passing +through Morrison's mind, "I hope no trouble will come of this. If I had +only known the vindictiveness of this man--" + +He was interrupted by a genially objecting hand and a laugh which +Morrison was somehow able to make lighthearted. + +"Oh, that will be all right. Harris will get him--never fear." + +"And so," he said, addressing Miss Virginia, "that bad man took your +pass?" + +"Yes, sir. He did," Virgie answered, and caught his hand in hers. "He +ran right away with it--mean old thing." + +"Well, then--we'll have to write you out another one. A nice, clean, +white one this time. Come on, little sweetheart. We'll do it together," +and he took out a note book and pencil. + +"I say, Morrison," Cary murmured, glancing apprehensively at the +troopers idling in the road and very plainly interested in what the +small group were doing, "do you really think you'd better--on your own +account?" + +Again Morrison's hand was raised in polite objection. He had taken a +sporting chance when he wrote the pass which had been stolen but because +he had probably lost was no reason why he shouldn't play the game out +bravely to the end. So he only smiled at Virgie, who came and sat beside +him, and began to write the few short sentences of his second +safe-conduct. But while he wrote he was talking in low tones which the +troopers in the road could not hear. + +"There's a line of your pickets about three miles up the road, Cary," +said he. "If I loaned you a horse, do you think Virgie could ride behind +you?" + +"_Me?_" pouted Virgie. "Why, Daddy says that when I was bornded, I came +ridin' in on a stork." + +Morrison burst out laughing and dropped his hand down on the small paw +resting on his knee. + +"Then, by St. George and the Dragon we'll send you home to Jefferson +Davis on a snorting Pegasus!" + +Again Cary spoke to him in warning tones, which at the same time +thanked him unendingly for the kindly thought. + +"You needn't trouble about the mount. Why, man," he said huskily, +"you're in trouble enough, as it is! And if our lines are as close as +you say they are--" + +Once more the Union officer checked him. + +"It isn't any trouble. Only--you'll have to be careful of your approach, +even to your own lines. Those gray devils in the rifle pits up there +have formed the habit of shooting _first_ and asking questions +_afterwards_. There you are," and he tore the leaf from his note book +and handed it up with a faint smile. + +The Southerner took it with a reluctant hand. + +"I--I wish I could thank you--Morrison," he said in tones that shook +with feeling, "but you see I--I--" + +"Then please don't try. Because if you do I'll--I'll have to hold Virgie +as a prisoner of war. + +"Well, young one," he said to the small Miss Cary with a laugh, "did you +really get something to eat?" + +"Yes, sir. That is--we _almost_ did." + +"_Almost?_" he echoed. + +"Yes, sir," came the plaintive answer. "Eve'y time we start to +eat--somethin' _always_ happens!" + +"Well, well, that _is_ hard luck," he said with a gentle squeeze of her +frail body. "But I'll bet you it won't happen this time; not if a whole +regiment tries to stop it." + +"Come on," he suggested as he sprang to his feet and began picking up +dry twigs. "You can start in and munch on those heavenly biscuits while +this terrible Yankee builds the fire." Cary made a move as if to help; +but Morrison checked him. + +"Oh, no, Cary, just you keep on sitting still. This is no work for you. +You're tired out. + +"Here, Virgie, I know you want to get me some water from the spring. +Please pick out the cleanest pieces of water you can and put them +carefully in the coffee pot. All right. There you are. _'Tention!_ +Carr-ee coffee pot! Right wheel! _March!_" + +With a carefree laugh he turned away to light the little heap of twigs +he had placed between two flat stones. "It's mighty considerate of my +boys to leave us all these things. We'll call it the raid of Black Gum +Spring. + +"And here comes the little lady with the coffee pot filled just right. +Now watch me pour in the good old coffee--_real_ coffee, Virgie +dear--not made from aco'ns." He settled the pot on the fire and sat back +with a grin. "Oh, oh! Don't watch it," he cried, in well feigned alarm +as Virgie, unwilling to believe the sight, stooped over to feast her +eyes on the rich brown powder sinking into the black gulf of the pot. +"If you do that it will never, _never_ boil!" + +"All right," the child agreed pathetically, and she sank wearily down +against her father's knee. "I'll just pray for it to hurry up." + +The two men exchanged quiet smiles and Cary murmured something in his +daughter's ear. + +"Oh, no, I won't," she answered, and then looked up at Morrison with a +roguish light in her dark eyes. "He's only afraid I'll pray so terribly +hard that the old coffee pot will boil over an' put out the fire." + +Morrison, chuckling, now began to drag something out of a rear pocket. +Presently, he uncorked it and held it up--a _flask_! + +"Here, Cary," he said, holding out a cup. "Join me, won't you? Of +course, you understand--in case a snake should bite us." + +"Colonel Morrison," responded the Southerner, "you are certainly a man +of ideas." + +He waited for his foe to fill his own cup, then raised his in a toast: + +"I drink to the health, sir, of you and yours. Here's hoping that some +day I may take _you_ prisoner!" + +At the quizzical look of surprise in the other's face Cary's voice +almost broke. + +"I mean, sir, it's the only way I could ever hope to show you how much I +appreciate--" + +He stopped and covered his face with his hands, not a little to his +daughter's alarm. + +"Come, come, old chap," the Northerner said bluffly, tapping him on the +shoulder. "Brace up. It's the fortunes of war, you know. One side or the +other is bound to win. Perhaps--who knows--it may be _your_ turn +to-morrow. Well, sir--here goes. May it soon be over--in the way that's +best and wisest for us all. + +"Now, Virgie," he went on, when the toast had been drunk, "while I wash +these cups suppose you go on another voyage of discovery through the +magic knapsack for some sugar for the coffee." + +He watched her fling herself impetuously on the knapsack. "If you find +any Yankee spoons--put them under arrest. They haven't any pass like +yours." + +Then he turned to Cary: "Have any trouble on the road as you came +along?" + +The other man shook his head. + +"None to speak of. We were stopped several times of course, but each +time your pass let us through without delay--until we met Dudley. And +now I'm worried, Colonel," he said frankly, while his eyes tried to tell +the other all that he feared without putting it in words, "worried on +your account. It's easy to see that the man has a grudge against you--" + +"Yes, I'm afraid he has," was the thoughtful reply. "But really, Cary, +you mustn't try to carry any more burdens than your own, just now. I +know what you mean and what, I daresay, you'd be only too willing to do, +but I can't permit it." + +They were interrupted by the spectacle of Virgie standing before them +with anxiously furrowed brow, a paper bag in one hand and three spoons +clutched in the other. + +"But Colonel Morrison," she was saying in tragic tones, "there isn't a +drop of milk." + +"Milk!" he cried in mock despair. "Well, dash my buttons if I didn't +forget to order a cow." + +"Oh, _I_ know what to do," cried the child. Dropping her supplies and +utensils she ran to the wall and climbed up. + +"Hey, there, _you_" commanded the small general with an imperious +gesture to the assembled troopers. "One of you men ride right over to +camp and bring us back some milk--an' butter." + +At this abrupt demand of so small a rebel on the commissary of the +United States a roar of laughter went up from the troopers, though some +of them had the grace to salute and so relieve the child of +embarrassment. + +"Virgie! Virgie!" called her father, scandalized. + +"It's all right, Cary," Morrison laughed. "She's only starting in at +giving orders a little earlier than most women. + +"Never you mind, Miss Brigadier," he comforted. "We'll have all those +luxuries next time, or when I come to see you in Richmond after the war +is over. Just now we'll do the best we can. Come along." + +Virgie got down from the wall and pattered up to the fire. + +"Is it ready yet?" she asked with the perfect directness of seven years. + +"In a minute now. Ah-hah! There she goes." + +He took the pot from the fire and set it down on a rock where, +presently, he brought a cupful of cold water to pour in. + +"Is that to settle it?" she asked of her father. + +"Yes, child--and I wish all our questions were as easily cleared up. +And now--to the attack." + +"Right-o. Virgie--pass the beautiful, hand painted china and let's fill +up. This one for your daddy--you can put the sugar in. Only don't burn +those precious fingers." + +Virgie carried the steaming cup to her father and put it in his hands +with shining eyes. + +"This is better than our old belt supper, Daddy, isn't it?" she said, +with a flirt of her tangled curls. "Anyway--it _smells_ nicer." + +She was back at the sugar bag at once, digging out spoonfuls for +Morrison's coffee. + +"Thank you, Miss Cary, I am indeed obliged to you. Now do sit down and +_eat_. No, not another word till you've eaten two whole biscuits!" + +For several ecstatic moments the child munched her biscuits. It had been +a long time since she had eaten anything so delicious, although if those +same biscuits had appeared on the Cary table a month ago they would have +probably been scorned. But eager as her appetite was it did not stop the +active workings of her mind and she presently was struck by an idea +which tried to force itself out through a mouthful of biscuit--with the +usual amusing results. + +"_Virginia!_" admonished her father. + +Morrison laughed out like a boy and slapped his knee. + +"Suppose we swallow--and try again." + +Virgie, thus adjured, concentrated her mind on the task--gulped, +blinked, swallowed with pathetically straining eyes, and then smiled +triumphantly. + +"Excuse me, Daddy. I guess I wasn't very polite." + +"Apology accepted. What were you going to say?" + +The child looked up with a sweetly serious look in her eyes that the two +men recognized as the forerunner of true womanly thought for others. + +"I was only goin' to ask the Colonel if he didn't think his men out +there would like some of these _heavingly_ things to eat?" she said +plaintively. "It must be terrible--jus' to look on!" + +"Well, bless your little heart," the Northerner cried. "But don't you +worry about the boys. They'll have theirs when they get back to camp. Go +on and eat, Virgie. Stuff in another biscuit. And, look! By Jupiter. +_Butter!_" + +Evidently Trooper O'Connell during the past twenty-four hours had +foraged or blarneyed most successfully for out of the knapsack which he +had left behind Morrison suddenly produced a small earthenware jam jar +in which was something now indubitably liquid in form but none the less +sweet, yellow, appetizing butter. Pouring a little on a biscuit he held +it out to her, speculating on what she would say. + +The tot took it hungrily and raised it to her lips, her eyes shining and +her face glowing with anticipation. Then she paused and, with a little +cry of vexation over her selfishness, held out the biscuit to her +father. + +"Here, Daddy," she said. "You take this--because you tried to bring me +somethin' good to eat yesterday." + +The father threw a look at Morrison and caught Virgie to him in a swift +embrace. + +"No, dear," he said. "Eat your nice buttered biscuit and thank the good +Lord for it. Your father will get more fun out of seeing you eat that +little bit than he would out of owning a whole cellar of big stone +crocks jam full. Do you know--I think when we get up to Richmond you'll +have to write a letter to the Colonel--a nice long letter, thanking him +for all he's done. Won't you?" + +There was a pause for a moment as the child looked over at Morrison, +revolving the thought in her mind. + +The Union officer had passed into a sudden reverie, the hand holding his +coffee cup hanging listlessly over his knee. He was thinking of another +little girl, and one as dear to him as this man's child was to her +father. He was wondering if the fortunes of war would ever let him see +her face again or hear her voice--or feel her chubby arms around his +neck. She was very, very far away--well cared for, it was true, but he +knew only too well that it would need but one malignant leaden missile +to make her future life as full of hardships as those which the little +tot beside him was passing through to-day. So much, at least, for the +ordinary chances of war--he was beginning to wonder how much had been +added to these perils by the matter of the pass and whether his +superiors would see the situation as it had appeared to his eyes. + +Into this sad reverie Virgie's soft voice entered with a gentleness +which roused but did not startle him. When she spoke, it seemed as if +some subtle thought-current between their minds had put the subject of +his dreams into the child's mind. + +"Do you reckon," the child said, curiously, "that Gertrude is havin' +_her_ supper now?" + +The Union officer looked up with eyes that mutely blessed her. + +"Yes, dear, I was thinking of her--and her mother." + +Again he was silent for a space, and when he spoke, his voice was +dreamy, tender, as he seemed to look with unseeing eyes far into the +Northland where dwelt the people of his heart. + +"Do you know, Cary, this war for us, the men, may be a hell, but what is +it for those we leave at home? The women! Who wait--and watch--and too +often watch in vain. _We_ have the excitement of it--the rush--the +battles--and we think that ours is the harder part when, in reality, we +make our loved ones' lives a deeper, blacker hell than our own. Theirs +to watch and listen with the love hunger in their hearts, month in, +month out and often without a word! Theirs to starve on the crusts of +hope! Waiting--always waiting! Hunting the papers for the thing they +dread to find; a name among the missing. A name among the dead! Good +Heaven! When I think of it sometimes--" Morrison dropped his head +between his clenched fists and groaned. + +"Yes, yes, old fellow, I know," the other man answered, for in truth he +_did_ know, "but I want you to remember that for you the crusts of hope +will some day be the bread of life--and love." + +Slowly the Northerner's face came up out of his hands and he seemed to +take heart again. After all, he had led a charmed life so far--perhaps +the God of Battles had written his name among those who would some day +go back to live the life for which the Almighty made them. God grant +then that he might have for his friend this man who, in the time of his +own greater grief, was unselfish enough to console him. Ah! If God would +only grant that from this day on there would be no more of this hideous +fighting. Morrison's eyes met the other's and he put out his hand. + +Suddenly there came the sound of a shot. Another and another--then a +volley, which almost at once became a continuous rattle of musketry. + +The Northerner sprang to his feet. "Look! there go your pickets." + +Struck dumb by this sudden return to the actualities of life the two men +stood motionless, listening for every sound which might tell them what +it meant. For a little while they had dreamed the dream of peace only to +have it rudely shattered. + +But Virgie had not followed them in their dreams, for she was an +extremely practical young lady. Having seen food, real food, vanish +away before her very eyes several times already she was quite prepared +to see it happen again. + +"There!" she said, in tones in which prophecy and resignation were oddly +mingled. "Didn't I jus' _know_ somethin' was goin' to happen!" + +By this time Morrison had run to the stone wall and sprung to its top. +Out in the road the troopers had mounted without waiting for command and +with one accord had faced towards the firing. + +"Can you see anything?" Cary called. + +"Not yet," said Morrison. "I guess we came too close to your nest--and +the hornets are coming out." + +"Turner!" he commanded, and a trooper's hand went up, "ride up to the +fork of the road. Learn what you can and report." + +As the cavalryman struck his heels into his horse's sides and dashed up +the road Cary put the wishes of both men into words. + +"It's too near sundown for a battle. It will only be a skirmish." + +"Ye-e-e-s, possibly," the Northerner assented, and he looked +thoughtfully at Virgie, "but still--" + +"What is it?" + +"I can't send you forward now--in the face of that fire. And, for that +matter, I can't send you to the rear. In five minutes this road will be +glutted with cavalry and guns." + +"Never mind, Morrison," the Southerner returned. "I couldn't go +now--anyway." + +"Why?" + +Cary opened out his hands in a simple gesture. "Because, in case of +trouble for you at headquarters, I'm _still_ your prisoner." With his +eyes brave and steady on the others he took the newly written pass from +his breast--and tore it in pieces. "When you want me," he said, "you'll +find me--_here_." + +If there had been time for argument Morrison would have hotly protested +against such self-sacrifice, but events were crowding upon them too +fast. From down the road came the sound of furious galloping. Almost at +once Lieutenant Harris, riding hard at the head of a troop of cavalry, +swept round the curve and drew his horse upon his haunches. + +"Colonel Morrison!" he shouted. "You are ordered--" + +"One moment, Lieutenant," interrupted Morrison in tones so even that +Cary marveled at his composure, "_Did you get Corporal Dudley?_" + +Cary's ears ached for the answer. He knew just as well as the questioner +the danger which might now be disclosed or be forever forgotten and his +heart went out to the other in this moment of hideous suspense. + +There was an instant of hesitation and then came the answer. + +"_No, sir!_ We tried hard but couldn't make it." + +Morrison's face did not change but his hands tightened until the nails +dug deep into his palms. He had played--and lost. + +"Go on with your report," he said. + +Harris pulled in his fretting horse and delivered his significant news. + +"The Rebels are advancing in force. I was sent back to you with orders +to join Major Foster at the fork and hold the road at any cost. Two +light field pieces are coming to your support. Our main batteries are +back there--in the woods." + +"Right," said Morrison, "we go at once." Turning back to Virgie he +caught her up in his arms and kissed her. "Good-by, little sweetheart. +Hide under the rocks and keep close." + +"Good-by, Morrison," Gary said, as they struck hands. "I can't wish you +luck--but our hearts are with you as a man." + +"Thanks, old fellow," said the enemy, as he sprang over the wall "It +helps--God knows." + +He caught at his horse's mane and threw himself into the saddle without +touching the stirrup, while his voice roared out his command. + +"Ready, men! Forward!" + +"Good-by," shrilled Virgie in her childish treble. "Good-by, Colonel! +Don't get hurt." + +"Daddy!" she cried, as they crouched down in their hiding place behind +the wall. "Is there going to be a--a _battle_?" + +"Only a little one. But you won't be afraid." + +A rattle of approaching wheels came from down the road, the shock of +steel tires striking viciously against the stones, the cries and oaths +of the drivers urging the horses forward. + +"Look!" cried Cary, springing to his feet in spite of the danger in +which his gray uniform placed him. "Here come the field pieces. In a +minute now the dogs will begin to bark." + +With a roar of wheels and a clash of harness and accouterments the guns +rushed by while the child stared and stared, her big eyes almost +starting out of her face. + +"The dogs!" she said in wonder. "There wasn't a single dog there!" + +"Another kind of dog," her father said with a meaning look. "And their +teeth are _very_ long. Ah! There they go! Over yonder on the hill--in +the edge of the woods. The Yankee dogs are barking. Now listen for the +answer." + +Together they listened, father and daughter, with straining +ears--listened for the defiant reply of those men who, being Americans, +were never beaten until hunger and superior numbers forced them to the +wall. + +"Boom!" A great, ear-filling sound crashed over the hills and rolled, +echoing, through the woods. + +"That's us! That's us!" the man cried out exultantly, while he caught +the child closer in his arms. "Hear our people talking, honey? Hear 'em +talk!" + +But overhead something was coming through the air and the child shrank +down in terror--something that whined and screamed as it sped on its +dreadful way and seemed like a demon out of hell searching for his prey. + +"Lord a' mercy, Daddy!" the child cried out. "What's _that_?" + +He patted her head consolingly. "Nothing at all but a shell. They sound +much worse than they really are. Don't be afraid. Nothing will hurt +you." + +From the forks of the road the sound of volley firing grew stronger and, +as if in response, the road to the Union rear now turned into a stream +of living blue, with cavalry madly galloping and sweating infantry +hurrying forward as fast as their legs could carry them. + +"Look, Virgie, look!" her father cried, holding her head a little way +above the wall. "See those bayonets shining back there across the road. +A whole regiment of infantry. And they're going up against our _men +across an open field!_ By Jiminy, but those Yanks will get a mustard +bath. Ah-hah!" he chortled, as a roar of musketry broke out. "I told you +so! Our boys are after them. Good work! Good work!" + +But again a shell passed over them and again the world was filled with +that awful whining, shrieking sound. + +"Daddy," the child cried, with quivering lips, but still dry eyed. "I +don't _like_ those things. I don't _like_'em." + +"There, there, darling," he comforted as they shrank closer under the +protection of the wall. "Keep down under my arm and they won't bother +you." + +As he spoke a twig with a fresh yellow break in it fell from a tree and +struck his upturned face. He winced at the thought that the bullet +might have flown a few feet lower. And meanwhile the sound of the firing +came steadily closer. + +"By Jove!" he murmured to himself, "it's a bigger rumpus than I +thought." + +This indeed was true. What had at first promised to be only a skirmish +between the outposts of the two entrenched armies, now developed into a +general engagement covering a space of half a mile along the line. A +reconnoitering force of Federal cavalry had ridden too close to the +rifle pits of the Confederates, and, as Morrison himself expressed it, +"the hornets came out and began to sting." + +Major Foster, commanding a larger force of cavalry, rode out in support +of his reconnoitering party, and found himself opposed, not by a +straggling line of Rebel pickets, but by a moving wall of tattered gray, +the units of which advanced on a low-bent run, crouching behind some +bush or stone, to fire, reload and advance again. + +An aide raced back to the Union lines to ask for help in support of +Foster's slender force of cavalry; and thus the order came to Morrison +to join the detachment and hold the enemy until reinforcements could be +formed and pushed to the firing line. + +The delay, however, was well nigh fatal for Morrison and Major Foster, +and from the point where Cary and little Virgie watched, the case of the +Union horsemen seemed an evil one. True, that infantry and guns were +soon advancing to their aid on a "double-quick"; yet all the advantage +seemed to lie with the ragged, sharp-shooting Southerners. + +The crackle of musketry increased; the dust rolled up and intermingled +with the wreathes of drifting smoke, and through it came the vicious +whine of leaden messengers of death. + +Then, borne on the wind, came a sound that he would know till his dying +day--_the rebel yell_. An exultant scream,--a cry of unending hate, +defiance, _victory_! + +He sprang to his feet. Off came the battered old campaign hat and +unmindful that he stood there hidden in the woods and that his voice +could carry only a few yards against the roar of battle, he swung it +over his head: and shouted out his encouragement. + +"Look! We're whipping 'em. Virgie, do you hear? We're getting them on +the run. Come on, boys! Come on!" + +He felt her clutch on his sleeve. With wide eyes grown darker than ever +with excitement, she asked her piteous question. + +"Daddy! _Will they kill the Colonel?_" + +For a moment he could not answer. Then, with a groan he gave back his +answer: "I _hope_ not, darling. I hope not!" + +Down the road a riderless horse was coming, head up and stirrups flying. +As it galloped past Cary scrutinized it closely and was glad he did not +recognize it. In its wake came soldiers, infantry and dismounted +cavalry, firing, retreating, loading and firing again, but always +retreating. + +"Here come the stragglers," he cried. "We're whipping 'em! Close, +darling, _close_. Lie down against the wall." + +He crouched above her, shielding her as best he could with his body. +Then, suddenly, a man in blue leaped on the wall not ten feet away. He +had meant to seize the wall as a breastwork and fight from behind it, +but before he dropped down he would fire one last shot. His gun came up +to his shoulder--he aimed at some unseen foe and fired. But from +somewhere, out of the crash of sound and the rolling powder smoke, a +singing missile came and found its mark. The man in blue bent over +suddenly, wavered, then toppled down inside the wall, his gun ringing on +the stones as he fell. + +"Daddy!" the child whispered, with ashen face, "it's the biscuit man. +It's HARRY!" + +Her father's hand went out instinctively to cover her eyes. "Don't look, +dear! Don't look!" + +The road was choked now. Cavalry and infantry, all in a mad rush for the +rear, were tearing by while the two field pieces which but a moment ago +had gone into action with such a deadly whirl came limping back with +slashed traces and splintered wheels. With fascinated eyes the Rebel +officer watched from behind his wall, while everything, even his child, +was forgotten in the lust for victory. And so he did not hear the faint +voice behind him that cried out in an agony of thirst and pain. + +"Water! Water! Help! Someone--give water!" + +Virgie, with dilated eyes and heaving breast, crouched low as long as +she could and then gave up everything to the pitiful appeal ringing in +her ears. Quick as a flash, she sped away on bare feet over rocks and +sharp, pointed branches of fallen trees to the spring, where she caught +up a cup and filled it to the brim. Another swift rush and she reached +the fallen man in blue and had the cup at his lips, while her arm went +under his head to lift it. + +"Virgie!" her father cried, frantic at the sight. With a great leap he +was at her side, forcing her down to the ground and covering her with +his body. + +The trooper's head sank back and his eyes began to dull. + +"May God bless ye, little one," he murmured. "Heaven--_Mary_--_!_" His +lips gave out one long, shuddering sigh. His body grew slack and his +chin fell. Trooper Harry O'Connell had fought his last fight--had +passed to his final review. + +One look at the boyish face so suddenly gone gray and bloodless and Gary +caught Virgie up in his arms. "Come dear, you can't help him any more," +and with a crouching run they were back once more in the shelter of the +wall. + +And now the shriek of the shells and the whine of the bullets came +shriller than before. All around them the twigs were dropping, while the +acrid powder smoke rolled in through the trees and burnt their eyes and +throats. Again came men in blue retreating and among them an officer on +horseback, wheeling his animal madly around among them and shouting +encouragement as he tried to face them to the front. "Keep at it, men," +Morrison was crying, half mad with rage. "One decent stand and we can +hold them. Give it to them hard. Stand, I tell you. _Stand!_" + +All around him, however, men were falling and those who were left began +to waver. "Steady, men! Don't flinch," came the shout again. "Ah-hah, +you _would_, would you? _Coward!_" + +Morrison's sword held flatwise, thudded down on the back of a man who +had flung away his gun. "Get back in the fight, you dog! Get back!" + +He whipped out his revolver and pointed it till the gun had been +snatched up, then fired all its chambers at the oncoming hordes in gray. + +"One more stand," he yelled. "One more--" + +Beside him the color sergeant gave a moan and bent in the middle like a +hinge. Another slackening of his body and the stricken bearer of the +flag plunged from his saddle, the colors trailing in the dust. + +Morrison spurred his mount toward the fallen man, bending to grasp the +colors from the tight gripped hand; but even as he bent, his horse went +down. He leaped to save himself, then turned once more, snatched at the +flag of his routed regiment and waved it above his head. + +"_Stand, boys, and give it to 'em!_" + +A shout went up--not from the men he sought to rally to his flag, but +from those who would win it at a cost of blood, for his troopers were +running on a backward road, and Morrison fought alone. The "gray devils" +were all around him now, and he backed against the wall, fighting till +his sword was sent spinning from his fist by the blow of a musket butt; +then, grasping the color-pole in both his hands, he parried bayonet +thrusts and saber strokes, panting, breathing in hot, labored gasps, and +cursing his enemies from a hoarse, parched throat. + +A hideous, unequal fight it was, and soon Lieutenant-Colonel Morrison +must fall as his colors fell and be trampled in the dust; yet now +through an eddying drift of smoke came another ragged Southerner, a +grim, gaunt man whose voice was as hoarse as Morrison's, who had grasped +a saber from the blood stained rocks and waved it above his head. + +"Back, boys! Don't kill that man!" + +Among them he plunged till he reached the side of Morrison, then turned +and faced the brothers of his country and his State. With a downward +stroke he arrested a saber thrusts and then struck upward at a rifle's +mouth as it spit its deadly flame. + +"Don't kill him! Do you hear?" he cried, as he beat at the bayonet +points. "I'm Cary! Herbert Cary!--_on the staff of General Lee!_" + +For an instant the attacking Southerners stood aghast at the sight of +this raging man in gray who defended a Yankee officer; and yet he had +made no saber stroke to wound or kill; instead, his weapon had come +between their own and the life of a well-nigh helpless foe. For a moment +more they paused and looked with wondering eyes, and in that moment +their victory was changed to rout. + +A bugle blared. A thundering rush of hoof beats sounded on the road, and +the Union reënforcements swept around the curve. Six abreast they came, +a regiment of strong, straight riders, hungry for battle, hot to +retrieve the losing fortune of the day. The road was too narrow for a +concentrated rush, so they streamed into the fields on either side, +re-formed, and swept like an avalanche of blue upon their prey. The guns +in the woods now thundered forth afresh, their echoes rolling out +across the hills, and the attacking Rebels turned and fled, like leaves +before a storm. + +On one side of the road, Morrison and Cary shrank down beside the wall +to let the Union riders pass; on the other, all that was left of the +Rebel force ran helter-skelter for a screen of protecting trees. But +before the last one disappeared he threw up his gun and fired, +haphazard, in the direction whence he had come. + +As if in reply came the sound of a saber falling from a man's hand and +striking on a stone. Under his very eyes and just as he was putting out +his hand to grip the others Morrison saw Herbert Cary sinking slowly to +the ground. + +And then, through the yellow dust clouds and the powder smoke and all +the horrid reek of war, a child came running with outstretched arms and +piteous voice--a frightened child, weeping for the father who had thrown +himself headlong into peril to save another's life and who, perhaps, had +lost his own. + + + + +CHAPTER IX + + +The headquarters of the Army of the Potomac on the morning of August 4, +1864, were at City Point near where the Appomattox meets the James. Here +the grim, silent man in whose hands lay the destinies of the United +States sent out the telegrams which kept the Federal forces gnawing at +the cage in which Lee had shut himself and meanwhile held to his +strategic position south of Richmond. To his left and west lay +Petersburg still unconquered, but Petersburg could wait, for Early's +gray clad troopers were scourging the Shenandoah and the menace must be +removed. To this end Grant had sent a telegram to Washington three days +before expressing in unmistakable terms what he wished General Sheridan +and his cavalry to accomplish. They were to go over into the Shenandoah +and, putting themselves _south_ of the enemy, follow him to the death. +To which telegram the tall, lank, furrow-faced man in the White House +whose kindly heart was bursting with the strain replied in +characteristic fashion and told him that his purpose was exactly right. +And then, with a gleam of humor, warned him against influences in +Washington which would prevent its carrying out unless he forced it. + +This message had come but a few minutes before and it had been received +with silent satisfaction for Grant knew now that Abraham Lincoln and he +were in perfect accord as to the means for swiftly bringing on the end. +But the plans must be well laid and to that end he must leave City Point +within a few hours and go north. And so he was standing at a window of +his headquarters this morning with his eyes resting unseeingly on the +camp, while his cool, quiet mind steadily forged out his schemes. + +Unlike the headquarters of "play" armies where all is noise and +confusion and bloodied orderlies throw themselves off of plunging horses +and gasp out their reports, the room in which General Grant did his work +was strangely quiet. + +It was a large, square room with high ceiling and wall paper which had +defied all the arts of Europe to render interesting in design. Furniture +was neither plentiful nor comfortable--a slippery, black horse-hair +sofa, a few horse-hair chairs and, at one side of the room, a table and +a desk, littered with papers, maps and files. At the table Grant's +adjutant, Forbes, sat writing. Facing him was the door opening out into +the hallway of the house where two sentries stood on guard. In the +silence which pervaded the room and in the quiet application to the work +in hand there was a perfect reflection of the mind of him who stood +impassive at the window with his back turned, a faint blue cloud of +cigar smoke rising above his head. + +A quick step sounded in the corridor--the step of one who bears a +message. An orderly appeared in the doorway, spoke to the two sentries +and was passed in with a salute to Forbes. + +"For General Grant," he said, holding out a folded note of white paper. +"Personal from Lieutenant Harris, sir." + +At the sound of his name the General turned slowly and accepted the +note which the orderly presented. He took it without haste and yet +without any perceptible loss of time or motion and, as always, without +unnecessary words. Scanning it, he shifted his cigar to one corner of +his mouth where its smoke would not rise into his eyes, thought for an +instant, then nodded shortly. + +"I'll see him. At once." + +Dismissed, the orderly saluted and passed quickly out. The General, with +his chin in his collar and his cigar held between his fingers at nearly +the same level, moved back to the window and stood there silently as +before. He knew what Lieutenant Harris would wish to speak to him about. +A few weeks before a Lieutenant-Colonel of cavalry had been +court-martialed on the charge of allowing the escape of a spy. The court +had found him guilty and its findings had been submitted to the higher +authorities and endorsed by them. A copy of these reports now lay on his +desk. All this his Adjutant, Forbes, knew as well as the General +himself, but if Forbes had thought it worth while to speculate on the +extent of his commander's interest he might have guessed for years +without ever drawing one logical conclusion from all the hints that that +impassive face and figure gave him. + +Again a ringing step in the corridor and this time Lieutenant Harris +came into the room, his hand going up in salute. But his General was +still looking out of the window, his eyes on a dead level. There was a +silence and then--without turning around-- + +"Well, Lieutenant, what is it?" + +"A short conference, General, if you'll grant it. The case of +Lieutenant-Colonel Morrison." It was hard work to talk to one who kept +his back turned and Harris was embarrassed. + +The smoke from the General's cigar still curled lazily upwards. + +"Reprieve?" came the monosyllabic question. + +Harris caught himself together and put all his feelings. + +"No, General. A _pardon_!" + +At once Grant wheeled and stood gazing at him keenly. + +"_Pardon?_" he said, and he advanced with deliberation to the desk where +he stood with his eyes steady on Harris' face. "Lieutenant! Do you want +me to think you are out of your mind?" + +Before Harris could reply Grant stopped him with a gesture and picked up +a batch of papers which lay on the desk. + +"The man has been given every chance. He has been court-martialed--and +found guilty." + +He dropped the papers in the case back on the desk. "And you--his +counsel--having failed to prove him otherwise now come to _me_--for +pardon." + +He snapped his fingers. "Lieutenant, you are wasting time." And he +turned away, pausing for a moment to turn over a sheaf here and there on +his desk and meditate their contents. The incident of Lieutenant-Colonel +Morrison has been disposed of and, in another moment would be forgotten. +It was now or never for Harris and he answered quickly. + +"I hope not, sir. Neither yours nor mine." And then, as the General +looked up with some surprise at this retort. "You have read the +findings of the court?" + +"Yes," was the grim reply. "And approve the sentence. To-morrow he will +be shot." + +"Yes, sir," acknowledged Harris. "Unless _you_ intervene." + +At this curiously insistent plea for clemency the short, stocky bearded +man who, to so few, had the bearing of a great general, faced Lieutenant +Harris and gave him a look which made the young officer's bravery falter +for a long moment. + +"_I?_" said the General, with a searching note in his voice which seemed +to probe coldly and with deadly accuracy among the strenuous emotions in +the young man's mind. "Harris--you are an officer of promise. Don't cut +that promise short." With a flick of his ashes to one side he turned +away. The cigar went back into the corner of his sardonic mouth. + +Harris strode forward an impulsive step and threw out his hands. + +"It is worth the risk. When a man is condemned to die--" + +The General wheeled with more impatience than the Adjutant, Forbes, had +seen him exhibit through many vexatious, worrying months. His voice took +on a rasping note. He tapped the papers on the desk with grim +significance. + +"Lieutenant-Colonel Morrison has failed in his military duty. He +released a Rebel spy--proved himself a traitor to his cause." + +"A traitor, General?" protested the young officer. "Do you call a man a +traitor who fought as Morrison did a week ago? Who stood his ground till +his whole command was shot to pieces! And then stood alone--defending +his colors in the face of hell let loose!" + +The appeal was impassioned, its sincerity and humanity undoubted. Yet it +seemingly only served to make the grim rules of war more unyielding than +ever. + +Choosing his words with more than ordinary care, and speaking them in +firm, even tones, the General made his reply. + +"No act of bravery can atone for a soldier's lapse from duty." He sat +down at his desk and began to write. + +Under ordinary circumstances Lieutenant Harris might have accepted +defeat for there seemed no use in trying to break down that iron will or +touch the heart of this relentless soldier. But this was something more +than an ordinary case and Harris was more than simply Morrison's +counsel--he was his friend. The two had fought together through three +hard campaigns; they had shared food and water and shelter, had slept +together for warmth on sodden fields, had exchanged such confidences as +two officers from the same town in the North but of unequal rank may +exchange under the pressure of war-time emotions. If there was one man +living who knew Morrison's heart and appreciated his motives to the +uttermost it was his lieutenant and the young officer was prepared to +lose his commission, aye, even face prison for insubordination if +continued opposition to the Commander-in-Chief would result in a +re-hearing. And so he caught himself together for the second time and +returned to the charge. + +"I do not offer his courage as a plea for pardon," he said, and turned +to his general with half a smile, "but still I find in Shakespeare--and +in Blackstone--the suggestion of tempering justice with mercy." + +Grant tossed aside his pencil, repeating the last word slowly, bitterly: + +"_Mercy!_" + +He rose from his seat and stood beside his table, speaking with a low +but almost fierce intensity: + +"They call me a war machine! I am! And you--and all the rest--are parts +of it! A lever! A screw! A valve! A wheel! A machine half human--yes! A +thing of muscle and bone and blood--but without a heart! A merciless +_machine_, whose wheels must turn and turn till we grind out this +rebellion to the dust of peace!" + +He paused impressively, and in the hard, cold words which followed, all +hope for Morrison seemed to fade and die. + +"If a wheel once fails to do its work--discard it!--for another and a +better one! _We want no wheels that slip their cogs!_" + +The General ceased and turned to his littered table; but Harris was not +yet beaten. + +"No, General," he answered bravely, "but there happens to be a flaw ... +in your machine's control." The General looked up, frowning sharply; but +Harris still went on: "In a military court we have condemned a man to +die--_and the facts have not been proved!_" + +Amazed more at the young officer's obstinate temerity than his words the +General stared at him. + +"How so?" he asked, with irony. + +Harris opened out his hands with a simple gesture that seemed to leave +his logic to the judgment of any impartial observer. + +"In times of peace, my profession is that of the Law. I know my +ground--and," in rising tones of sincerity, "I challenge you to shake it +in any civil court in Christendom." + +"Strong words, young man," came the stern reply. "For your sake, I hope +they are warranted. What is your point? Get at it!" + +Harris drew a short breath of relief. He had cleverly switched the +appeal from grounds on which he stood no chance whatever to those where +he did not fear any intellect in a fair fight. + +"The evidence," he said calmly, "was purely circumstantial. In the first +place, it is alleged that my client captured a Rebel spy, one Herbert +Cary, who was hiding in the loft of a cabin." + +The General's caustic tones interrupted. "To which fact," he said, +"there were only _ten_ witnesses." + +"Yes, General," was the faintly smiling agreement. "Ten! But not one of +them actually _saw_ the man! They _believe_ he was there, but they +cannot swear to it." + +Grant made a motion as of putting away something of no consequence. +"Immaterial--in view of the other facts. Well--what else?" + +"Next, it is claimed that Morrison released this spy and allowed him to +enter the Union lines--without regard to consequences." + +The General gave a short exclamation of impatience, and struck the +papers on his desk with the flat of his hand. + +"And that is _proved_," he said, sharply. "Proved by several officers +who stopped your spy at points along the road." + +He singled out a soiled piece of paper from the sheaf before him and +held it up, a piece of paper which bore writing on both sides. + +"When taken, _this pass_ was found on his person. Not circumstantial +evidence, but _fact_. Signed on one side by R.E. Lee and, on the other, +by Colonel Morrison." He laughed shortly over the futility of argument +under such circumstances. "Do you presume to contest this, _too_?" + +To his amazement the young officer facing him bowed easily and smiled in +turn. + +"I _do_. Emphatically. _No pass_ was given Herbert Cary either by +Colonel Morrison _or_ General Lee." + +"_What?_" cried the General angrily. + +Harris only pointed. + +"Read it, sir--if you please." He watched till Grant's eyes started to +scan the pass again, and then repeated the words which he knew so well. + +"Pass _Virginia Cary_ and escort through Federal--and Confederate +lines." + +"'Virginia Cary,' General, is a non-combatant and a child. 'Escort' may +mean a single person--or it may mean a whole troop of cavalry." + +To his infinite relief and joy his Commanding General looked up at him +thoughtfully, then slowly rose from his desk and took a turn about the +room, followed by a faint blue trail of cigar smoke. He paused. + +"And what does _Cary_ say?" he asked. + +Again Harris smiled the quiet smile of the lawyer who has been +confronted with such questions before and knows well how to answer them. + +"He, too, is on trial for his life. His evidence, naturally, was not +admitted." + +"Ah! Then what says _Morrison_?" + +"Nothing, sir," was the young lieutenant's calm reply. "The burden of +proof lies with the prosecution--not with the defendant." + +"And this is your contention--your _legal_ flaw in my machine?" the +General asked sharply. + +"It is." + +"Very good, sir--very good. In that case we'll call in these silent +partners and dig into this case until we reach rock bottom!" + +"Forbes," he ordered. "Send for the prisoner, Mr. Morrison--and the +Rebel, Herbert Cary. I want both of them here--at once!" + +In the pause which followed the Adjutant's exit Harris interposed an +objection. + +"Your method, General, is hardly just to the interests of my client." + +Grant turned on him with something mere than impatience. He was growing +angry. + +"Lieutenant Harris! Are you asking me to pardon a guilty man? It's the +truth I want--not legal technicalities. Next you'll be asking me not to +hang this Rebel spy because he has--a baby!" + +He went back to his accustomed place at the window and stood looking out +again, his hands clasped loosely behind his back, the eternal cigar +smoke rising above his head. Then, to the young lieutenant's amazement, +he asked a question in tones of ordinary conversation. + +"Harris," he said. "Who was the man who preferred these charges to start +with?" + +"Corporal Dudley," was the eager answer. + +"And there, General, is another point and a vital one that was not +brought out. In reporting his Colonel, Dudley was actuated not by a +spirit of military duty, but personal revenge." + +"Revenge? Why?" + +"Because Morrison shot and killed Dudley's brother--a Sergeant in his +command." + +The General came back from his window. + +"Again--why?" + +"For insubordination--incendiarism--attempted desertion," came the swift +reply. + +The General's eyebrows raised a fraction of an inch. He seated himself +at his desk and unrolled a map. + +"Any witnesses of the Sergeant's death?" he asked evenly as he proceeded +to study his map. + +"Unfortunately, only one," Harris replied. "An old negro--now in our +camp--answering to the name of William Lewis." + +"Lewis--Lewis," said Grant thoughtfully. He referred for a moment to a +file of papers and then looked up. "Is that the old codger who's been +worrying my entire staff for permission to go through our lines to his +home?" + +"Yes, General," said Harris, with a smile, for Unc' Billy's persistency +and his troubles were known to everyone he met. + +"Good! It's about time we got even him," the General remarked +sardonically. "Have him in! See to it, Forbes." And again he bent over +his map. + +Forbes, passing out again, paused as Harris gestured. + +"You'll find him somewhere near the guard house," the Lieutenant said +with a flicker of a, smile. "The old man has been regularly camping out +there since he learned that his master was inside." + +A minute passed and then, from a short distance away, came the sound of +a squad of soldiers marching. In single file, with the two prisoners in +line, the squad came into the hallway and stopped at the doorway. + +"_Halt! Left face! Order arms! Prisoners file out!_" The two prisoners +stepped forward and entered the room. + +Thanks to expert surgical work since he entered Union lines, Herbert +Cary's wounds had healed quickly while plenty of good food had done the +rest. His eyes may not have been bright with hope but at least they +were clear with health and his straight back and squared shoulders +showed that the man's fighting spirit had not left him even under the +adverse decision of a court-martial. + +Of the two, Morrison seemed the graver and quieter. With his sword taken +from him and his shoulder straps ripped off the man who had been a +Lieutenant-Colonel in the Army of the Potomac only the day before stood +looking at his general without the slightest hope for clemency. Yet, +with all the sad, quiet look of resignation in his eyes, behind them +glowed a wonderful light--the light of self-sacrifice. For he had chosen +to put on the tender glove of humanity and grip hands with the mailed +gauntlet of war, and though he had been crushed yet even in this bitter +hour they could not take from him the knowledge that the Commander in +Chief of all spiritual armies would stand forever on his side. They +could take his sword and shoulder straps but they could not rob him of +that divine consolation. + +And so the two stood with their eyes steady on the General--the +Confederate, hard and defiant--the Union officer with a strange, sad +glow on his face. + +But the General paid them no attention. He was still studying the map +laid out before him on his desk, the cigar in the corner of his mouth +drawing one side of his face into harsh, deep lines. As a matter of +fact, Ulysses Simpson Grant was very far removed from harshness--he was +simply and solely efficiency personified. When nothing was to be said +General Grant said nothing. To do otherwise was waste. + +Presently he looked up and saw that while Forbes had given the two +prisoners chairs directly in front of his desk one of the important +factors in the business in hand had not been produced. + +"Well, Forbes, well? Where is the negro?" He asked crisply. "Bring him +in! Bring him in!" + +"In a moment, General," responded the Adjutant, hastening to the doorway +as the tread of feet sounded again in the hallway. Dismissing the two +privates who had arrived with Uncle Billy between them he led the old +man down to the desk and left him there, bowing and scraping a little +and holding his hat in front of him in both hands. + +"Wan' see _me_, suh?" ventured Uncle Billy, intruding delicately on the +General's calculations. "Here I is!" + +General Grant looked up quickly and ran his eye over the old man. + +"Your name!" + +"Er--William Lewis, seh. Yas, seh." + +"To whom do you belong?" + +Although Uncle Billy's back was not particularly straight this sudden +question introduced a stiffening into it which made it more upright than +it had been in years. + +"I b'longs to Cap'n Hubbert Cary, seh--of de Confed'it Army. Das who I +b'longs to. Yas, seh." + +The General sat back a little in his chair and studied Uncle Billy. He +saw that after all the old negro was simply a natural slave--that he +probably had no other thought in his grayed head than that of faithful +service to his owner. But he would try him and see how far the old man +would go. + +"I understand," he said, "that freedom has been offered you--and you +refused it. Is this true?" + +"Yas, seh." + +"_Why?_" asked the General quietly. + +Uncle Billy stammered. + +"Well--er--well, 'skuse me, Mars' Gen'l, but--but down whar _I_ lives at +de--de white gent'men understands a nigger better'n what you-all does. +Yas, seh." + +General Grant may have smiled internally, but the only symptom of +amusement was the dry note in his voice. + +"I see. But there has been some difference of opinion on the point." + +He paused and then pointed past Uncle Billy directly at Morrison. "Do +you know that man?" + +"Me?" said Uncle Billy. He turned and saw Morrison and instantly his +face lighted up. It made no difference to the old negro that Morrison's +uniform was mutilated--he could only see the familiar features of one +who had treated his dead mistress with perfect respect under trying +circumstances. + +"Aw, yas, seh," he broke out, with a broad grin. "How you does, Cun'l. I +clar to--" + +Uncle Billy stopped. His eyes had gone beyond Morrison to the man +sitting beside him and at the sight of that loved figure the old man +began to tremble. His voice lowered to a whisper and he began to totter +forward. + +"Mars' Cary!" he said, as if he were looking on one risen from the dead. +He came a little nearer, with his hand stretched out as if to touch him +testingly--then suddenly dropped down on his knees before Gary who had +risen from his chair. "Bless Gawd, I done fin' you," he sobbed, his face +buried in his toaster's coat. "I done fin' you at last." + +The General frowned. + +"Forbes," he ordered. "Put a stop to that. Bring him back!" + +But Uncle Billy paid not a bit of attention as the Adjutant sprang up. +All his thought was for his master and his own explanation. + +"Dey wouldn' lemme git thru, seh!" he cried, pleading absolution from +what had seemed an inexcusable breach of trust. "Dey wouldn' gimme no +pass an' I'se des been stuck! Aw, Gawd, Mars' Cary--an' I axed 'em ev'y +day!" + +"There now, Billy--don't," Cary said with a gesture of pity and unending +gratitude. + +Uncle Billy rose slowly to his feet. + +"Yas, seh. Yas, seh," he answered obediently. "'Skuse me, Mars' Gen'l. I +couldn' he'p it, seh. I--I couldn' he'p it. Dey wouldn' eben lemme see +him in de guard house--" + +"That will do," interrupted the General firmly. "Listen to me. When did +you see Mr. Morrison--last?" + +"Him?" said Uncle Billy, looking around at the Union officer. +"'Twas--'twas in de spring, seh. Yas, seh. De time de Yankees bu'nt us +out." + +"How's that?" asked the General, not understanding. + +Lieutenant Harris came forward a step. + +"The act of incendiarism I spoke of, General--on the part of Sergeant +Dudley." + +The General looked up and nodded. + +"I see," he said, and Harris, knowing that due weight would be given the +fact let go a faint sigh of relief and stepped back. + +The cigar came out of the General's mouth. "Tell me about it," he said +to Uncle Billy. + +The old negro drew himself up and shifted his weight onto his other +foot. + +"Well, seh, 'twas dis way. One mornin' de blue-bellies--'skuse me, seh, +de cav'lry gent'men. One mornin' de cav'lry gent'men come ridin' up, +lookin' fer horses an' fodder an'--an' Mars' Cary--an' anything else +what was layin' roun'. Yas, seh. An' des' befo' dis here gent'man come," +with a bow at Morrison, "a low-lived white man took'n grab me by de +th'oat--an' choke me, seh. Den he 'sult Miss Hallie--" + +"Miss Hallie?" queried the General. + +"My mis'tiss, seh," answered Uncle Billy. "My mis'tiss, seh," he said +again and his hand went up to his eyes. + +"The wife of Captain Cary," Harris said in a low tone and the General +nodded. + +"Den--bless Gawd--de Cun'l come! He pick him down offn de front +po'ch--and put him under 'rest. Yas, seh. An' Miss Hallie, she sho' was +hoppin', Gen'l. She--" + +"Never mind that," sighed the man whose creed was Patience. "Go on with +the story." + +"Yas, seh. Thank'e, seh. 'Twas des lek I tell you, seh. An' arfter while +orders come to de cav'lry gent'men fer to light out fr'm dar in a hurry. +An' whilst dey was gettin' ready, seh, an' me an' de Cun'l was waitin' +roun' fer to proteck de property, de fire bus' right out de winders! + +"Dat's right, Mars' Gen'l," Uncle Billy hurried to state, as the +General's eyebrows went up in surprise. "Dat's right. Den de front do' +flewed open, an' here come dat po' white trash rapscallion--wid de pine +knot in his han'. Yas, _seh_. He--" + +"One moment!" snapped the General. "Was he running _towards_ his troop +or _away_ from it?" + +"_Way_ fr'm it, seh," replied the old negro, with unmistakable +truthfulness, "t'odes de ice house whar Miss Hallie an' de chillun was +at. Yas, seh." + +"And Mr. Morrison tried to stop him?" + +"Ha!" cried Uncle Billy, with a chuckle. "He mo'n tried, seh. He _done_ +it!" + +The General nodded, his lips tight shut. + +"So I understand. But what did he do--or say?" + +At this question Uncle Billy suddenly developed dramatic abilities that +his master had never dreamed of. + +"He say--" and Uncle Billy's arm shot out as he pointed something deadly +at an invisible foe--"he say, '_Halt! Dudley! Halt! Bang!_'" + +Uncle Billy's hat dropped down on the floor with a whack. "Dat's all, +seh. Dat po' white trash--he drop lek a stuck pig, seh!" + +The General's eyes were on his desk and for a moment there was a pause. +Finally, he lifted his head and looked at Morrison, who rose in salute. + +"Mr. Morrison. You did well. Your Sergeant failed in his military +duty--and deserved the punishment. I commend your action." + +Harris, listening with all his might, thought the words more favorable +than the tone in which they were spoken and his face brightened. Then he +heard the General speaking more sternly. + +"The Federal powers of administrative justice now occupy precisely the +same position with regard to your own default." + +Harris' face darkened. After the first just encomium--what was this that +was coming? + +Relentless and inflexible the voice went on. + +"The rules of war, as applied to a non-commissioned officer, must also +govern his superiors. As Sergeant Dudley deserved his bullet you merit +_yours_." + +His eyes dropped from Morrison's face and he looked up at Harris. + +"A bad witness for your client, Lieutenant," he said grimly, as he +nodded his head towards Uncle Billy. "You ought to study law! Take him +away," and he picked up a fresh cigar from a box in front of him and +tossed the old one out of the window. + +Uncle Billy, with a puzzled look on his face, slowly yielded to the +touch of the two soldiers who stepped into the room at a gesture from +Forbes. He seemed to realize that his testimony had not been of much +avail though just why was indeed a mystery. One thing, however, was +quite clear. + +"'Skuse me, Mars' Gen'l. I--I don't need dat ar pass home now. An' I +much obliged to you fer _not_ givin' it to me. Yas, seh. Thank'e, seh." +At the doorway he bowed with careful politeness to each occupant of the +fatal room. "Good mornin', Mars' Cary. Good mornin', gent'men. _Good_ +mornin'." + +With the disappearance of bewildered Uncle Billy the General swung +around on the officer who no longer wore his shoulder straps. + +"Mr. Morrison," he said, in his distinct, even tones. "Your friend and +counsel, Lieutenant Harris, has applied to me for your pardon!" + +"_Pardon?_" cried Morrison, springing to his feet with an exclamation of +amazement. + +"Exactly," was the crisp response. "It comes from him--not from you. But +still, as an interested party, have you anything to say in your own +behalf?" + +The Union officer stared at his general for a moment without replying. +Yes, there were many things that might be said--all of them honest +arguments in his own behalf, all of them weighted with Right and +Humanity but none of them worth putting into words in the face of this +deadly machine of war, this grim, austere, unyielding tribunal. He +wavered for a moment on his feet as a terrible wave of despair surged +over him, then made a faint gesture of negation. + +"I have nothing to say, sir." + +"Captain Cary!" ordered the General and, as Cary rose unsteadily to his +feet, "No. Keep your seat, sir; you are wounded. Is it true--as I learn +from this report--that during a skirmish a week ago you helped defend +the Union colors against your own people?" + +Cary shot up from his chair with a fiery rush of anger. + +"_I? No, sir!_ I defended the _man_--not the soldier, or his flag!" + +"Ah!" ejaculated the General, leaning back in his chair and blowing out +a cloud of smoke in surprise. "You draw a rather fine distinction, +Captain. You saved the colors--_but you failed to save the man!_ You had +better have let him die--as an honorable soldier." + +There was silence for a moment, and the General asked: "Is it true that +you were actuated by a debt of gratitude?" + +"Yes," answered the Southerner, throwing back his head. "And a greater +debt than I can ever hope to pay. His mercy to--my little girl." + +Without relaxing for a moment his grip on the points of the case, no +matter what human elements might be drawn into it, the General instantly +rose and shot out an accusing forefinger at the Confederate. + +"And the pass he gave--_to you!_" + +Their eyes clashed but the Southerner lowered his own not a whit and +backed them, furthermore, with honest anger. + +"_To her!_" he answered, and drove the reply home with clenched jaws. + +The General relaxed--and smiled. + +"Another fine distinction," he said, resuming his seat. He knocked the +ashes from his cigar and presently looked up with another one of those +terribly vital questions which came so simply from his lips. "Did you +ever penetrate the Federal lines by means of a uniform--of blue?" + +The Confederate drew back as he felt the assault on his rights as a +soldier. + +"As to that, General Grant, there is--" + +"Answer me!" came the sharp command. "'Yes' or 'No'!" + +"One moment, General," interrupted Harris, with a lawyer's quick +objection. "If--" + +"No interference, Harris," came the curt order. "Answer me, Captain. +'Yes' or 'No'!" + +The Southerner's face flushed and he threw back his head with the superb +defiance that General Grant knew so well--which was his one eternal +stumbling block, and due to continue for another full year of blood. + +"Under the rulings of court-martial law," the Confederate Captain said +in ringing tones, "I deny even _your_ right to the question." + +To the surprise of everyone the General merely nodded. + +"That is all, sir. Thank you," he said, and Cary, with a look of +surprise, slowly resumed his seat. + +"Mr. Morrison!" + +The Union officer rose and saluted. + +"As a military servant of the United States Government you were ordered +to pursue this man and take him--dead or alive. In this you failed." + +Morrison inclined his head gravely but shot a look of respectful +objection at his superior. + +"In part--I failed." + +Instantly the accusing forefinger was leveled at him across the desk and +the point made with terrible directness. + +"_And knowing he was a spy!_" + +Morrison shook his head. + +"Not to my personal knowledge, sir. I hunted him many times; but never +while he wore a Federal uniform." + +"And when you captured him?" + +In reply, Morrison simply indicated Cary's tattered coat of gray. + +"Ah! Then you _did_ capture him?" + +"Yes," came the quiet answer. + +"And he _was_ the escort mentioned in your pass." + +"Yes," Morrison answered slowly. + +"H'm," said the General. He rose and turned to Harris. + +"I am afraid, my dear Harris, that in spite of fine spun distinctions +and your legal technicalities, the findings of our court were not far +wrong." + +Dropping his handful of papers on the desk he caught Morrison's eye and +rasped out his analysis of the case. + +"Captain Cary practically admits his guilt! _You_ were aware of it! And +yet you send him through the very center of our lines! A _pass_! Carte +blanche to learn the disposition of our forces--our weakness and our +strength--and to make his report in Richmond. He was an enemy--with a +price on his head! And you trusted him! _A spy!_" + +As the General had been speaking the first few words of his contemptuous +summing up Morrison saw where they would lead and his manhood instantly +leaped up in reply. + +"I trusted, not the spy, but _Herbert Cary_," he said with honest +courage. Then, as the General turned his back on him with a contemptuous +snap of his fingers-- + +"General! I have offered no defense. If the justice of court-martial law +prescribes a firing squad--I find no fault. I failed. I pay." + +With a gesture which indicated Gary the disgraced officer of the Army of +the Potomac shot out his one and only defense of his action--at an +unyielding back. + +"I took this man--hunted--wounded--fighting to reach the side of a +hungry child. I captured him and, by the rules of war, I was about to +have him shot. Then he asked me to get his little girl safely to +Richmond, and not to let her know--about him." + +"And she believed in _me_. _Trusted_ me--even as I trusted Herbert Cary +to pierce the very center of your lines--as a father--not a spy!" + +From behind the unyielding back came a statement of fact, firm and +pitiless. + +"And it cost you your sword--your life." + +Morrison centered his eyes on the back of the General's head and sent +his answer home with all the power of his voice and spirit. + +"_And I have no regret_" he said. "In the duty of a military servant--I +have failed. But my prisoner still lives! I could _not_ accept the +confidence of his child--the trust of innocence--a baby's kiss--with the +blood of her father on my hands!" He dropped his hands and half turned +away. + +The General turned, a little at a time--first his head and then his +shoulders. + +"A very pretty sentiment," he remarked dryly. "But you seem to forget +that we are not making love but _war_." + +With a supreme burst of anger at his helplessness before the brute +forces which would presently send him forth to the firing squad, +Morrison wheeled on his commanding general and flared forth with his +last reply. + +"Yes, _war_! And the hellish laws that govern it. But there is another +law--_Humanity_! Through a trooper in my command the home of an enemy +was turned to ashes--his loved ones flung out to starve. When a helpless +tot had lost its mother and a father would protect it, then _war_ +demands that I smash a baby's one last hope--in the name of the Stars +and Stripes. And then--to march back home, to a happy, triumphant +North--and meet _my_ baby--with the memory of a butcher in my heart--_By +Heaven, sir! I'd rather hang!_" + +For a moment General and Colonel regarded each other fixedly and then +the General turned away to pace the floor. Presently he came to his +decision and walked slowly back to his desk. + +"Lieutenant Harris," he said in tones whose significance could not be +misunderstood, "I was right. You have wasted your time--and mine." + +Then he sighed wearily and made a last gesture to Forbes. + +"_The guard_" he said. + +It was all over. + +And then, to the ears of the two prisoners who stood looking at one +another with sad eyes, came a sound which made both men start and look +again with apprehension written on their faces--the shrill scream of a +child who is being kept from something she has set her heart upon. +Another moment and there was a rush of tiny feet in the hall, whereupon +the two sentries crossed their rifles across the doorway. But what +might have proved a serious obstruction for a man was only an absurdity +to a child's quick wit and Virgie, with a little duck of her sunny head, +dodged quickly under the muskets and charged, flushed and panting, on +the General's desk. + +"You shan't shoot Colonel Morrison," cried this astonishing new comer in +tones of shrill command as she stamped her little foot: "I won't let +you! You shan't! You shan't!" + +A moment of displeased surprise on the part of the General. Then-- + +"Take the child out of here," he ordered. + +"I won't _go_!" answered Virgie, tossing her curls back and standing her +ground with' angry eyes. + +"Orderly!" called the General. + +With a whirl Virgie dashed away from the desk, eluded the orderly and +threw herself into her father's arms. + +"Oh, Daddy, Daddy! You won't let him shoot the Colonel. Daddy, you +won't! You won't!" She burst into a passionate flood of tears. + +Cary lifted his hand to the General in a plea for a moment's respite +from force. + +"General--please. She'll go." + +He turned to the sobbing child and shook her gently. "Virgie! Virgie! +Listen, honey! _Remember General Lee!_" The bowed head rose from her +father's shoulder; the little shoulders stiffened, and eye to eye she +looked into the face of Cary as his pleading voice went on: "_He_ +wouldn't want you to cry like this. He said--'She's a brave little +soldier to stay there all alone. Dixie and I are _proud_ of her.'" + +The Littlest Rebel's chin went up, and she bravely choked back her sobs. +If this was what her General wanted, this her General would have, though +childhood's sobs are hard to check when a little heart is aching for the +pain of those she loves. + +"Go now, darling," her father pleaded. "Go." + +She kissed him, and turned in silent, slow obedience, casting a scowl at +the grim and silent General Grant, then moved toward the guarded door. + +"Wait!" said a quiet voice. + +"Harris! They say that fools and children speak the truth." He paused +and then said gently: "Come here, little girl. Come here and talk to +me." + +Somewhat in fear now that the kind voice robbed her of her anger the +little pale faced child choked down her sobs and came slowly forward to +the desk. But, as she stood there, her courage returned and, marvel of +marvels, her tiny hand went up in imitation of a salute. + +Grant dropped his chin in his hand so that their heads were nearly on a +level across his desk and looked at her with gentle kindness in his +eyes. + +"The Littlest Rebel, eh?" he said in low tones. "How old are you?" + +"S-s-s-even. Goin' on eight," responded Virgie, gulping down a sob and +nervously fingering her tattered dress. + +"Ah, yes," he nodded. "And do you know the uniform of a Union +officer--when you see it?" + +Virgie's small mouth dropped open at the absurdity of the question and +she almost laughed. + +"A Yankee?" she queried with scorn. "Well, I reckon I _ought_ to--by +_this_ time." + +"Very good," the brown bearded man nodded, and gently blew smoke at the +ceiling. "Now, tell me. When you lived at home--and afterwards in your +cabin--did your father come to see you often?" + +Virgie's sunny head nodded in emphatic asseveration. "Yes, sir. Often." + +"_How_ often?" asked the bearded man. + +Virgie's fingers twisted themselves deep in her dress. + +"I--I don't know, sir. But heaps of times." + +"Good again," and the questioner actually smiled. "When your father +came, did he ever wear clothes that--that were not his own?" + +Virgie turned a side-long look on her father but, as he could not help, +her puzzled eyes went back to the General. + +"Well--well, lots of our men don't have hardly _any_ clo's," she said +pathetically. + +Another smile broke the sternness of the General's face. + +"That isn't what I mean," he explained gently. "Did he ever wear a coat +of blue--a _Yankee_ uniform?" + +"_General_!" broke in Harris. + +"Lieutenant!" Grant frowned. He turned back to Virgie and coaxed her a +little. + +"Well? Tell me!" + +With one bare big toe twisted under her foot and fingers interlocked in +agony the child turned a look of pure anguish on her silent, grave faced +father. This was torture--and she could not escape. + +"Oh, Daddy, Daddy!" she burst forth with a wail of tragedy in her voice. +"_What must I tell him_?" + +The father's lips, which had been closed against the pain that racked +him, softened with the perfect trust which went into his gentle command. + +"The _truth_, Virgie. Whatever the General asks." + +The General's observant eyes rested on the proud Southerner for an +instant, noted that his face was quite without anxiety, then went back +to the little child. + +"Well, did he?" he asked. + +"Y-y-y-es, sir," answered Virgie with a gulp. + +The General nodded and his face grew grave again. + +"I wonder if you even know what it means. A _spy_!" + +"Yes, sir," said the Littlest Rebel, and dropped her eyes. + +"Hm. And do you remember how many times he came that way?" + +"Yes, sir," came the instant answer, and she threw up her head. +"_Once_." + +"_Once?_" echoed the General, surprised. "Are you sure?" + +"Yes, sir," she answered. She drew herself up proudly, forgetting the +poor, tattered dress, and her clear eyes rested fearlessly on two others +that read through them down into the pure whiteness of her soul. + +"_Think!_" said the quiet voice again, while the perspiration started +out on the forehead of more than one listener. "And remember what your +father said just now. When was it?" + +Again the fearless eyes of the child, the Littlest Rebel of them all, +rose to the gaze of the man whose iron heel was crushing them into the +ground and she made her answer--as crystal clear and truthful as if she +stood before the Throne on the last great day. + +"When--when Daddy came through the woods an'--an' put my mamma in the +ground." + +There was a silence. No one moved. Outside in the trees and bushes the +song the summer insects were singing suddenly burst upon, their ears and +the myriad noises of the camp, hitherto unnoticed, became a veritable +clamor, so complete was the stillness in the room. Everyone except, +perhaps, the child herself realized the vital importance of her answer +and now that it had been given the crisis had passed. The Littlest Rebel +had put an end to questioning. An audible sigh went up from everyone +except the man behind the desk. + +This one turned his head slowly towards the Confederate prisoner. + +"Captain Cary, is this true?" + +"Yes, General," came the straightforward answer. "I went to your nearest +post with a flag of truce and asked permission to go to my dead wife. I +was refused. I went _without_ permission." + +General Grant rose to his feet. Centering the other's eyes with his own +he spoke to him as one officer speaks to another when he expects the +truth and nothing but the truth. + +"And you give me your word, as a soldier and a gentleman, that +once--once _only_--you wore a Federal uniform and that because of the +burial of your wife?" + +"I do," answered Herbert Cary, a rebel to the last. "And that was the +only cause in heaven or hell that could have _induced_ me to wear it!" + +For a moment the Commander of the Army of the Potomac surveyed the still +defiant prisoner, then turned his back and walked to the window where he +tossed away a much chewed cigar, meantime thinking out his last +analysis. + +Here was a man who had been hunted tirelessly month after month as a +rebel spy. It was true that he was a spy and true that he had worn a +uniform of blue. Yet the fact had been established--by the spotless +honesty of a little child--that he had worn the uniform only so that he +might reach his home and bury his dead. And--went on the cool, quiet +mind--since the man was _not_ a spy how could a Union officer be +executed for assisting a _spy_ to escape? + +Coming back to his desk again the General picked out another smoke, felt +of it thoughtfully, sniffed at it, then raised his quiet eyes. + +"Lieutenant-Colonel Morrison," he said in clear, incisive tones, "_go +back to your command!_" + +Five words. Five short, plain words, yet they made all the difference +between a firing squad and a chance at life again. There was a +silence--then a gasp from Morrison's dry throat. At the sound of his +title--at the sound of that blessed order which, by right of supreme +power, instantly restored him to his rank, the Union officer leaped to +his feet with a cry of joy. But it was not even for those around him in +that little room to know the wonderful vista of happiness which opened +up again before the eyes which only a moment ago had been doomed to +close in the sleep of a disgraceful death. + +The General's hand went up in a gesture which checked his gratitude. + +"The _next_ time you are forced to decide between military duty and +humanity--think twice!" + +He turned to his desk and took up a small piece of paper, crumpled and +torn. + +"Captain Cary," he said, "I sincerely regret that I cannot honor the +pass as given you by Colonel Morrison," and he turned the paper over, +"but I do honor the pass of your General--R.E. Lee." + +He folded the paper and held it out to Cary who came forward as if in a +dream. Then the General turned his back again and began to rummage on +his desk. The incident was closed. + +But there was a rush of bare, childish feet sand before he could escape +Virgie's brown little arms were round him and her dimpled chin was +pressed against his waist. + +The General made no effort to release himself but looked down on her +with a softer light in his face than any of his men had seen there in +many months. + +"And as for you, young lady, the next time you pervert my officers and +upset the discipline of the Federal Army--well, I don't know _what_ I'll +do with you." + +He looked down into her face and read there a wistful feminine appeal +for outward and visible reconciliation. + +"Oh, well," he said with mock resignation, "I suppose I've got to do +it," and he stooped and kissed her. Then he took up his campaign hat and +walked towards the door. + +Behind him the child in her tattered dress and bare brown legs stood +still and threw out her arms to him in a last soft-voiced good-by. + +"Thank you, Gen'ral," called the Littlest Rebel, with the light of +heaven in her eyes. "Thank you for Daddy and Colonel Morrison and _me_. +You're another mighty good damn Yankee!" + +And then, with a cry of surpassing joy and love, she rushed back to +where the two men waited for her on their knees. + + + + +CHAPTER X + + +In the shade of a fringe of trees that edged the river bank a troop of +cavalry was drawn up in one long, thin line. Knee to knee, the silent, +blue-coated riders sat, waiting, waiting--not for a charge upon the +enemy, or orders for a foray through an already harried land. They +waited for a leader--a man who had led them through the heat and cold, +through peaceful valleys and the bloody ruck of battle; a man whom they +loved and trusted, fearing him only when they shirked a duty or +disobeyed the iron laws of war. + +This man had been taken from them, himself a servant who had disobeyed +these laws, his sword dishonored, his shoulder straps ripped off before +their eyes. And now the troopers waited--and for what? An order had come +which put them on review, a long thin line of horsemen waiting on the +river bank, while the sun beat down on the parched red fields, and the +waters of the muddy James lazed by as they murmured their sad, low song. + +The troopers were silent--waiting. A horse stamped idly in the dust, and +a saber rattled against a booted leg. A whisper ran down the line. The +eyes of the men turned slowly at the sight of a single rider who +advanced from the distant Union camp. He did not take the dusty road +which swept in a wide, half-circle to where the waiting troopers sat in +line, but jumped a low worm-fence and came straight across the fields. + +An officer he was, erect in his saddle, chin up and shoulders squared. +On his shoulders his straps had been replaced, and his saber rattled +against his thigh to the rise and fall of his horse's stride. + +Straight on he came till he checked his mount before the center of the +waiting line, and the troopers knew that Lieutenant-Colonel Morrison had +once more come into his own. + +Their sabers rasped from out the scabbards and rose in a joyous, swift +salute, while Morrison's once dishonored sword acknowledged it. + +"_'Tention_ ..._company!_" + +The long line stiffened and waited for their officer to speak; yet the +voice was not the voice of an officer in command, but that of a comrade +and a friend. + +"Thank you, boys! It's good to be back again." He swallowed something in +his throat and struggled manfully to speak in even tones. "I must ask +you to be quiet--and not to--" + +He stopped. Again his troop had disobeyed him--disobeyed him to a man. A +shout went up, deep, joyous and uncontrolled, its echoes pulsing out +across the hot, red fields till it reached the distant camp; and Grant +looked up from a war map's crisscross lines, grunted, and lit a fresh +cigar. + +And Lieutenant-Colonel Morrison sat his horse before his cheering line +of men, silent, happy, while two tears rolled, unheeded, down his +cheek--a soldier and a man! + +His tenderness to a little child had torn him from his saddle and doomed +him to disgrace and death; and then, one line from her baby lips had +mounted him again and set him before his troopers on parade. + +"_It was when ... Daddy came through the woods ... and put my mamma ... +in the ground_." + +Two lives she had held--in her little hands--and had saved them both +with a dozen words of simple, unfaltering truth. + + * * * * * + +On the dusty pike which led to Virginia's capital another rider plodded +through the heat and haze. His coat, once gray, now hung in mud-stained +tatters about his form, but beneath his battered campaign hat his thin, +pale features were smoothed by a smile of happiness. + +Behind his saddle, one hand gripped tightly in a rent in the soiled gray +coat, sat still another Rebel--the smallest of them all--her tiny legs +stretched out almost straight on the horse's wide, fat back. + +"Daddy--how far is it to Richmon' now?" + +The rider turned his head and pointed north. + +"It's close now, honey. See that line of hills? That's Richmond. A mile +or two and we'll be at home." + +Again they plodded on, past fields of shriveled corn whose stalks stood +silently in parched and wilted lines--lines that were like the ranks of +the doomed Confederacy--its stalks erect, yet sapped of the juice of +life. Where orchards once had flourished their rotted branches now hid +mouths of rifle pits, and low, red clay entrenchments stretched across +the fields. + +"Daddy," broke out a piping voice, "don't you think we'd better make +this Yankee horse get up a little? 'Cause--'cause somethin' _else_ might +happen before we get there." + +"It's all right, Virgie," her father answered, with a pat on her small, +brown knee. "These lines are ours, and I reckon we are safe at last." + +They were. Two Rebels on a Yankee horse soon made their triumphant entry +into Richmond. They passed through Rockets, by the half-deserted wharves +on the river bank where a crippled gunboat lay, then clattered over the +cobble stones up Main Street till they reached the Square. On the State +House the Stars and Bars still floated; but the travelers did not +pause. Northward they turned, then westward again, till they stopped at +last before a silent, stately mansion, the headquarters of their +General--General Lee. + +Before the open door two sentries stood, but as Cary and his charge +dismounted an orderly came down the steps and out of the iron gate. A +word or two from Cary and the orderly disappeared into the house, +returning soon with word that the visitors would be received--at once. + +Up the stone steps went Virgie, holding tightly to her father's hand, +for now, as she neared her General, her little heart was pounding, and +her breath came eagerly and fast. + +On the threshold of a dim and shaded room they paused and looked. He sat +there, at a table strewn with war maps and reports--a tall gray man in a +coat of gray--the soldier and the gentleman. + +As father and child came in he rose to meet them, looking at the two +with eyes that seemed to hold the sadness and the tenderness of all the +world. + +He knew their story; in fact, he had bent his every effort to the +saving of Cary's life. He had sent a courier to the camp of General +Grant below the city, asking a stay of sentence till the facts in the +case were cleared; and only a half hour before his courier had returned +with news of the prisoner's release. + +And now, as he advanced and gave a courtly welcome to his trusted scout, +the hand of the Littlest Rebel once more went up in salute to a superior +officer. + +"Gen'ral," she said, as she stole a glance at her father's smiling face, +"I've brought him back--with--with the pass you gave me, sir." + +And the General stooped--six feet of him--till his lips were on a level +with Virgie's lips; then folded her closely into his great gray arms. + + + + +THE END + + + + +PEACE + + + Hushed is the rolling drum. The bugle's note + Breathes but an echo of its martial blast; + The proud old flags, in mourning silence, float + Above the heroes of a buried past. + Frail ivy vines 'round rusting cannon creep; + The tattered pennants droop against the wall; + The war-worn warriors are sunk in sleep, + Beyond a summons of the trumpet's call. + + Do ye still dream, ye voiceless, slumbering ones, + Of glories gained through struggles fierce and long, + Lulled by the muffled boom of ghostly guns + That weave the music of a battle-song? + In fitful flight do misty visions reel, + While restless chargers toss their bridle-reins? + When down the lines gleam points of polished steel, + And phantom columns flood the sun-lit plains? + + A breathless hush! A shout that mounts on high + Till every hoary hill from sleep awakes! + Swift as the unleashed lightning cleaves the sky, + The tumbling, tempest-rush of battle breaks! + The smoke-wreathed cannon launch their hell-winged shells! + The rattling crash of musketry's sharp sound + Sinks in the deafening din of hoarse, wild yells + And squadrons charging o'er the trampled ground! + + Down, down they rush! The cursing riders reel + 'Neath tearing shot and savage bayonet-thrust; + A plunging charger stamps with iron heel + His dying master in the battle's dust. + The shrill-tongued notes of victory awake! + The black guns thunder back the shout amain! + In crimson-crested waves the columns break, + Like shattered foam, across the shell-swept plain. + + A still form lies upon the death-crowned hill, + With sightless eyes, gray lips that may not speak. + His dead hand holds his shot-torn banner still-- + Its proud folds pressed against his bloodstained cheek. + + O slumbering heroes, cease to dream of war! + Let hatreds die behind the tread of years. + Forget the past, like some long-vanished scar + Whose smart is healed in drops of falling tears. + Keep, keep your glory; but forget the strife! + Roll up your battle-flags so stained and torn! + Teach, teach our hearts, that still dream on in life, + To let the dead past sleep with those we mourn! + + From pitying Heaven a pitying angel came. + Smiling, she bade the tongues of conflict cease. + Her wide wings fanned away the smoke and flame, + Hushed the red battle's roar. God called her Peace. + From land and sea she swept mad passion's glow; + Yet left a laurel for the hero's fame. + She whispered hope to hearts in grief bowed low, + And taught our lips, in love, to shape her name. + + She sheathed the dripping sword; her soft hands pres't + Grim foes apart, who scowled in anger deep. + She laid two grand old standards down to rest, + And on her breast rocked weary War to sleep. + Peace spreads her pinions wide from South to North; + Dead enmity within the grave is laid. + The church towers ring their holy anthems forth, + To hush the thunders of the cannonade. + + EDWARD PEPLE. + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Littlest Rebel, by Edward Peple + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE LITTLEST REBEL *** + +***** This file should be named 15414-8.txt or 15414-8.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/1/5/4/1/15414/ + +Produced by Suzanne Lybarger, Josephine Paolucci and the +PG Online Distributed Proofreading Team. + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Littlest Rebel + +Author: Edward Peple + +Release Date: March 19, 2005 [EBook #15414] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE LITTLEST REBEL *** + + + + +Produced by Suzanne Lybarger, Josephine Paolucci and the +PG Online Distributed Proofreading Team. + + + + + + +</pre> + + + + + + +<h1><i>The</i></h1> + +<h1>LITTLEST REBEL</h1> + +<h3><i>By</i></h3> + +<h2>EDWARD PEPLE<br /><br /></h2> + +<p>GROSSET & DUNLAP: <i>Publishers</i></p> + +<p>NEW YORK</p> + +<p>Copyright, 1914 +By the ESTATE OF EDWARD H. PEPLE</p> + +<p>ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. NO PART OF THIS BOOK +MAY BE REPRODUCED IN ANY FORM WITHOUT +PERMISSION IN WRITING FROM THE PUBLISHER.</p> + +<p><i>Printed in the United States of America</i></p> + + +<!-- Autogenerated TOC. Modify or delete as required. --> +<p> + <a href="#FOREWORD"><b>FOREWORD</b></a><br /> + <a href="#THE_LITTLEST_REBEL"><b>THE LITTLEST REBEL</b></a><br /> + <a href="#CHAPTER_I"><b>CHAPTER I</b></a><br /> + <a href="#CHAPTER_II"><b>CHAPTER II</b></a><br /> + <a href="#CHAPTER_III"><b>CHAPTER III</b></a><br /> + <a href="#CHAPTER_IV"><b>CHAPTER IV</b></a><br /> + <a href="#CHAPTER_V"><b>CHAPTER V</b></a><br /> + <a href="#CHAPTER_VI"><b>CHAPTER VI</b></a><br /> + <a href="#CHAPTER_VII"><b>CHAPTER VII</b></a><br /> + <a href="#CHAPTER_VIII"><b>CHAPTER VIII</b></a><br /> + <a href="#CHAPTER_IX"><b>CHAPTER IX</b></a><br /> + <a href="#CHAPTER_X"><b>CHAPTER X</b></a><br /> + <a href="#THE_END"><b>THE END</b></a><br /> + <a href="#PEACE"><b>PEACE</b></a><br /> + </p> +<!-- End Autogenerated TOC. --> + + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="FOREWORD" id="FOREWORD"></a>FOREWORD</h2> + + +<p>The play, from which this book is written, was +in no sense of the word intended as a war +drama; for war is merely its background, and +always in the center stands a lonely little child.</p> + +<p>War is its theme but not its purpose. War +breeds hatred, horror, pestilence and famine, +yet from its tears and ashes eventually must +rise the clean white spirit of HUMANITY.</p> + +<p>The enmity between North and South is +dead; it sleeps with the fathers and the sons, +the brothers and the lovers, who died in a cause +which each believed was just.</p> + +<p>Therefore this story deals, not with the right +or wrong of a lost confederacy, but with the +mercy and generosity, the chivalry and humanity +which lived in the hearts of the Blue and +Gray, a noble contrast to the grim brutality of +war.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>The author is indebted to Mr. E.S. Moffat, +who has novelized the play directly from its +text, with the exception of that portion which +appeared as a short story under the same title +several years ago, treating of Virgie in the +overseer's cabin, and the endorsing of her pass +by Lieutenant-Colonel Morrison.</p> + +<p>EDWARD PEPLE.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="THE_LITTLEST_REBEL" id="THE_LITTLEST_REBEL"></a>THE LITTLEST REBEL</h2> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_I" id="CHAPTER_I"></a>CHAPTER I</h2> + + +<p>Young Mrs. Herbert Cary picked up her +work basket and slowly crossed the grass to +a shady bench underneath the trees. She must +go on with her task of planning a dress for +Virgie. But the prospect of making her +daughter something wearable out of the odds +and ends of nothing was not a happy one. In +fact, she was still poking through her basket +and frowning thoughtfully when a childish +voice came to her ears.</p> + +<p>"Yes, Virgie! Here I am. Out under the +trees."</p> + +<p>Immediately came a sound of tumultuous +feet and Miss Virginia Houston Cary burst +upon the scene. She was a tot of seven with +sun touched hair and great dark eyes whose +witchery made her a piquant little fairy. In +spite of her mother's despair over her clothes +Virgie was dressed, or at least had been +dressed at breakfast time, in a clean white +frock, low shoes and white stockings, although +all now showed signs of strenuous usage. +Clutched to her breast as she ran up to her +mother's side was "Susan Jemima," her one +beloved possession and her doll. Behind +Virgie came Sally Ann, her playmate, a slim, +barefooted mulatto girl whose faded, gingham +dress hung partly in tatters, halfway between +her knees and ankles. In one of Sally Ann's +hands, carried like a sword, was a pointed +stick; in the other, a long piece of blue wood-moss +from which dangled a bit of string.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Mother," cried the small daughter of +the Carys, as she came up flushed and excited, +"what do you reckon Sally Ann and me have +been playing out in the woods!"</p> + +<p>"What, dear!" and Mrs. Cary's gentle hand +went up to lift the hair back from her daughter's +dampened forehead.</p> + +<p>"<i>Blue Beard</i>!" cried Virgie, with rounded +eyes.</p> + +<p>"Blue Beard!" echoed her mother in astonishment +at this childish freak of amusement.</p> + +<p>"Not really—on this hot day."</p> + +<p>"Um, hum," nodded Virgie emphatically. +"You know he—he—he was the terriblest old +man that—that ever was. An' he had so many +wifses that—"</p> + +<p>"Say 'wives,' my darling. <i>Wives</i>."</p> + +<p>Sally Ann laughed and Virgie frowned.</p> + +<p>"Well, I <i>thought</i> it was that, but Sally +Ann's older'n me and she said 'wifses.'"</p> + +<p>"Huh," grunted Sally Ann. "Don' make +no differ'nce what you call 'em, des so he had +'em. Gor'n tell her."</p> + +<p>"Well, you know, Mother, Blue Beard had +such a bad habit of killin' his wives that—that +some of the ladies got so they—they almost +didn't like to marry him!"</p> + +<p>"Gracious, what a state of affairs," cried +Mrs. Cary, in well feigned amazement at the +timidity of the various Mrs. Blue Beards. +"And then—"</p> + +<p>"Well, the last time he got married to—to +another one—her name was Mrs. Fatima. +An'—an' I've been playin' <i>her</i>."</p> + +<p>"And who played Blue Beard?"</p> + +<p>"Sally Ann—an' she's just fine. Come +here, Sally Ann, an' let's show her. Kneel +down."</p> + +<p>Clutching the piece of moss from Sally +Ann, Virgie ran behind the girl and put her +chubby arms around her neck. "This is his +blue beard, Mother. Hold still, Sally Ann—<i>My +lord</i>, I mean—till I get it tied in the right +place."</p> + +<p>"Be keerful, Miss Virgie," advised the colored +girl. "You's a-ticklin' my nose. I'se +gwine to sneeze ef yo' don't, and jes blow my +beard all away."</p> + +<p>"Oh, don't be such a baby," remonstrated +the earnest Miss Virginia, with a correcting +slap. "S'pose you were a man an' had to wear +one all the time. Now! Stand up! Look, +Mother!"</p> + +<p>"I'm afraid of him already. He's so ferocious."</p> + +<p>"Isn't he? Oh, won't <i>you</i> play with us, +Mother? I'll—I'll let you be Mrs. Fatima." +And then, as her mother's face showed signs +of doubt as to her histrionic ability, "If you +were <i>my</i> little girl, I'd do it in a minute."</p> + +<p>"All right, dear, of course I will; but I've +just remembered a bit of lace in your grandmother's +trunk in the attic. I believe it will +be exactly enough for the neck and sleeves of +your new dress." She smiled courageously as +she folded a piece of old silk she was remaking. +"You and—" she cast a glance at Sally Ann—"your +respected brother-in-law can wait a few +moments, can't you? You might rehearse a +little more. With all this important audience +of solemn oaks you wouldn't want to make the +slightest slip in your parts."</p> + +<p>"That's so," agreed Virgie, raising her hands +and clasping her tiny fingers thoughtfully. +"And I'll tell you what—we'll mark off the +castle walls around the bench where the window's +going to be. We ought to have a stage. +Come on Sal—I mean Blue Beard, pick up +some sticks quick."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Cary started, but turned back an instant: +"By the way, have either of you seen +Uncle Billy. I' must find him, too, and plan +something for our lunch."</p> + +<p>"I seen 'im early dis mawnin'," piped Blue +Beard, "makin' for de woods. I reckon he be +back pres'n'y."</p> + +<p>"Very well," answered Virgie's mother, a +shadow creeping into her face as she went on +toward the house. Could Uncle Billy possibly +be leaving! The most trusted negro of all! +No—<i>never</i>! She would almost as soon doubt +the cause itself!</p> + +<p>Three long years ago war had seemed a +thrilling, daring necessity. Caught in the +dreadful net of circumstance she had vowed +proudly in her own heart never to be less brave +than the bravest. In her ears still rang the +echo of that first ...</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p><i>Tara-tara!</i></p> + +<p>From far away a faint fanfare of trumpets, +borne on brazen wings from the distant clamor +of the city's streets.</p> + +<p><i>Tara-tara!</i></p> + +<p>"What's that—a bugle?"</p> + +<p><i>R-r-r-r-rum-dum!</i></p> + +<p>"And that—a drum?"</p> + +<p><i>Tramp—tramp—tramp</i>—the rolling thunder +of ten thousand feet.</p> + +<p><i>War has been declared!</i></p> + +<p>From North to South, the marching lines +fill the land—a sea of men whose flashing bayonets +glisten and glitter in the morning light. +With steady step and even rank, with thrill of +brass lunged band and screaming fife the regiments +sweep by—in front, the officers on their +dancing steeds—behind them, line after line of +youthful faces, chins in, chests out, the light of +victory already shining in their eyes.</p> + +<p>In just this way the Nation's sons went +forth to fight in those first brave days of '61. +Just so they marched out, defiant, from South +and North alike, each side eager for the cause +he thought was right, with bright pennons +snapping in the breeze and bugles blowing +gayly and never a thought in any man's mind +but that <i>his</i> side would win and his own life be +spared.</p> + +<p>And every woman, too, waving cheerful +farewell to valiant lines of marching gray or +sturdy ranks of blue, had hoped the same for +<i>her</i> side.</p> + +<p>But in war there is always a reckoning to +pay. Always one contender driven to the wall, +his cities turned to ashes, his lands laid waste. +Always one depleted side which takes one last +desperate stand in the sight of blackened +homes and outraged fields and fights on +through ever darkening days until the inevitable +end is come.</p> + +<p>And the end of the Confederacy was now +almost in sight. Three years of fighting and +the Seceding States had been cut in twain, +their armies widely separated by the Union +hosts. Advancing and retreating but always +fighting, month after month, year after year +the men in gray had come at last to the bitterest +period of it all—when the weakened South +was slowly breaking under the weight of her +brother foes—when the two greatest of the +armies battled on Virginia soil—battled and +passed to their final muster roll.</p> + +<p>Of little need to tell of the privations which +the pivotal state of the Confederacy went +through. If it were true that Virginia had +been simply one vast arsenal where every inhabitant +had unfailingly done his part in making +war, it was also true that she had furnished +many of its greatest battlefields—and at what +a frightful cost.</p> + +<p>Everywhere were the cruel signs of destruction +and want—in scanty larder, patched, refurbished +clothing, servantless homes—in +dismantled outhouses, broken fences and neglected, +brier-choked fields. Even the staples +of life were fast diminishing for every man +who could shoulder a gun had gone to fight +with Lee, and few animals were left and fewer +slaves.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>Yet, for all the dismal outlook, Winter had +passed without actual disaster to the Confederate +arms and now that Spring had come the +plantation home of the Herbert Carys, twenty +miles below Richmond, had never had a fairer +setting. White-pillared and stately the old +Colonial mansion stood on one of the low, +emerald hills which roll back lazily from the +peaceful James. It was true that the flower +beds had been trampled down to ruin by alien +horse and heel, but the scent of the honeysuckle +clinging to those shining pillars only +seemed the sweeter for the loss, and whatever +else the forager might take, he could not rob +them of their gracious vista of hills and shimmering +river.</p> + +<p>Across the broad driveway and up the steps +of the veranda passed Mrs. Cary, fairer than +had been the flowers, a true daughter of the oldtime +South, gentle and quiet eyed, her light +summer dress of the cheapest material, yet +deftly fashioned by her own fingers from +slightly opened neck, where an old brooch lay +against her soft throat, down to the dainty +spotless flounces lying above her petticoat of +crinoline.</p> + +<p>Though her lips and eyes refused to betray +it even when there was no one to see, it was +with a very heavy heart that she mounted the +stairs to the attic, thinking, contriving, clutching +desperately at her fading hopes.</p> + +<p>For good reason the plantation was very +silent on this warm spring morning. Where +only a year before dozens of soft eyed Jerseys +had ranged through the pastures and wood +lots there was now no sound of tinkling bells—one +after another the fine, blooded stock had +been requisitioned by a sad faced quartermaster +of the Army of Northern Virginia. +And one by one the fat porkers who had muzzled +greedily among the ears from the Cary +bins and who ought to have gone into the +smoke house had departed, squealing, to furnish +bone and sinew with which to repel the +invader. Saddest of all, the chicken coops +down by the deserted negro quarters were +quite as empty as the once teeming cabins +themselves. Poverty, grim and relentless, had +caught the Carys in its iron hand and behind +Poverty stood its far more frightening shadow—Starvation.</p> + +<p>But in these gloomy thoughts she was not +entirely alone. All that troubled her and more, +though perhaps in a different way, passed +hourly through the old gray kinky head of +Uncle Billy who happened at this very moment +to be emerging stealthily from the woods below +the house. Slowly and deliberately he +made his way toward the front till he reached +a bench where he sat down under a tree to +ruminate over the situation and inspect the +feathered prize which he had lately acquired by +certain, devious means known only to Uncle +Billy. Wiping his forehead with his ragged +sleeve and holding the bird up by its tied feet +he regarded it with the eye of an expert, and +the fatigue of one who has been sorely put to +it in order to accomplish his purpose.</p> + +<p>"It 'pears to me," said Uncle Billy, "dat +des' when you needs 'em the mostest the chickens +goes to roosting higher 'n' higher. +Rooster—I wonder who you b'longs to. +Um-<i>um</i>!" he murmured as he thoughtfully +sounded the rooster's well developed chest +through the feathers. "From de feelin' of +you, my son, I 'spec' you was raise' by one er +de ol'es' fam'lies what is!"</p> + +<p>But Uncle Billy knew the fortunes of the +Cary family far too well to mourn over the +probable toughness of his booty, and as he rose +up from the seat and meandered toward the +kitchen, his old, wrinkled face broke into a +broad smile of satisfaction over the surprise +he had in store. "Well—after I done parbile +you, I reckon Miss Hallie be mighty glad to +see you. Yas, <i>seh</i>!"</p> + +<p>But as Uncle Billy walked slowly along beside +the hedge which shielded the house on one +side he heard a sound which made him halt. +A young negro, coming from the rear, had +dodged behind the hedge and was trying to +keep out of his sight.</p> + +<p>"Hi, dar! You, Jeems Henry!" shouted +Uncle Billy, instantly suspicious of such maneuvers. +"Come heh! Hear <i>me</i>! Come heh!"</p> + +<p>At this sudden command a young mulatto, +hesitating, came through a break in the hedge +and stood looking at him, sullen and silent. In +his hands he carried a small bundle done up in +a colored handkerchief and on this guilty piece +of baggage Uncle Billy's eye immediately +fastened with an angry frown.</p> + +<p>"Whar you gwine?" demanded Uncle Billy, +with an accusing finger trembling at the +bundle.</p> + +<p>The younger man made no reply.</p> + +<p>"Hear <i>me</i>?" the elder demanded again in +rising tones of severity. "Ain't you got no +tongue in yo' haid? Whar you gwine?"</p> + +<p>Shifting from one foot to the other the +younger man finally broke away from Uncle +Billy's eye and tried to pass him by.</p> + +<p>"Den <i>I'll</i> tell you whar you gwine," shouted +Uncle Billy, furious at last. "You's runnin' +'way to de Yankees, dat's whar you gwine."</p> + +<p>At this too truthful thrust Jeems Henry +saw that further deceit would be futile and +he faced Uncle Billy with sullen resentment.</p> + +<p>"An' s'posin' I <i>is</i>—wat den?"</p> + +<p>"Den you's a thief," retorted Uncle Billy +with dismayingly quick wit. "Dat's what you +is—a <i>thief</i>."</p> + +<p>"I <i>ain'</i> no thief," Jeems Henry refuted +stubbornly, "<i>I</i> ain' stole nothin'."</p> + +<p>"You is too," and Uncle Billy's forefinger +began to shake in the other's face. "You's +stealin' a <i>nigger</i>!"</p> + +<p>"What dat?" and Jeems Henry's eyes +opened wide with amazement. "What you +talkin' 'bout?"</p> + +<p>"Talkin' 'bout <i>you</i>," replied Uncle Billy, +sharper than ever. "Dey say a nigger's wuth +a thousan' dollars. 'Cose <i>you</i> ain't wuth dat +much," he said with utter disgust. "I put you +down at a dollar and a quarter. But dat ain't +de p'int," and he steadily advanced on the other +till their faces were only a few inches apart. +"It's dis. <i>You</i>, Jeems Henry, belongs to +Mars' Herbert Cary an' Miss Hallie; an' when +you runs 'way you's stealin'. <i>You's stealin +yo'sef!</i>"</p> + +<p>"H'm!" sniffed Jeems Henry, now that the +nature and extent of his crime were fully understood. +"Ef I ain' wuth but a dollar an' a +quarter, I suttenly ain' stealin' <i>much</i>!"</p> + +<p>At this smart reply Uncle Billy's disgust +overcame him completely and he tossed the +rooster on the ground and clutched Jeems +Henry by the arm.</p> + +<p>"You mighty right, you ain't!" he shouted. +"An' ef I was fo' years younger I'd take it +outer yo' hide with a carriage whip. Hol' on +dar," as Jeems Henry eluded his grasp and +began to move away. "Which way you +gwine? You hear me? Now den!"</p> + +<p>"I gwine up de river," replied Jeems Henry, +badgered at last into revealing his plan. +Then, after a cautious look around,—"to +Chickahominy Swamp," he added in lower +tones.</p> + +<p>Uncle Billy cocked his ears. Here was +news indeed.</p> + +<p>"Chickahominy, huh! So de Yankees is up +dar, is dey? An' what you think you gwine +to do when you git to 'em?"</p> + +<p>"Wuck 'roun de camp," replied Jeems +Henry with some vagueness.</p> + +<p>"Doin' what?" was the relentless query.</p> + +<p>"Blackin' de gent'men's boots—an'—an' +gittin' paid fer it," Jeems Henry stammered +in reply. "It's better'n being a slave, Unc' +Billy," he added as he saw the sneer of contempt +on the faithful old man's face. "An' +ef you wan' sech a crazy ol' fool, you'd come +along wid me, too."</p> + +<p>At this combination of temptation and insult +Uncle Billy's eyes narrowed with contempt +and loathing. "Me?" he said, and a +rigid arm pointed back at the house which had +been for years his source of shelter and comfort. +"Me leave Miss Hallie <i>now</i>? Right +when she ain't got <i>nothin</i>'? Look heah, nigger; +dog-gone yo' skin, I got a great min' for to +mash yo' mouf. Yas, I <i>is</i> a slave. I b'longs +to Mars Cary—an' I b'longed to his pa befo' +him. Dey feed me and gimme de bes' dey +got. Dey take care of me when I'm sick—an' +dey take care of me when I'm well—an' <i>I</i> +gwine to stay right here. But you? You jes' +go on wid de Yankees, an' black der boots. +Dey'll free you," and Uncle Billy's voice rose +in prophetic tones—"an you'll <i>keep on</i> blackin' +boots! Go 'long now, you low-down, dollar-an'-a-quarter +nigger!" as Jeems Henry backed +away. "Go long wid yo' <i>Yankee</i> marsters—and +git yo' freedom an' a blackin' brush."</p> + +<p>So engrossed were both the actors in this +drama that they failed to hear the sound of +footsteps on the veranda, and it was so that +the mistress of the manor found the would-be +runaway and the old slave, glaring into each +other's eyes and insulting one another volubly.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Cary, with her workbasket on her arm, +paused at the top of the steps and regarded +the angry pair with well-bred surprise.</p> + +<p>"Why, Uncle Billy," she queried, "what is +going on here? What <i>is</i> the matter?"</p> + +<p>"It's Jeems Henry; dat's what's de matter," +said Uncle Billy, in defense of his agitation. +"He's runnin' 'way to de Yankees."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Cary stopped short for a moment and +then came slowly down the steps.</p> + +<p>"Oh, James," she said, unbelievingly. "Is +this really true?"</p> + +<p>Jeems Henry hung his head and dug at the +gravel with his toe.</p> + +<p>"I'm sorry," said Mrs. Cary, and the word +held a world of painful thought—of self-accusation, +of hopeless regret, of sorrow for one +who could be so foolishly misguided. "I'm +sorry not only for ourselves but for <i>you</i>. You +know, I promised Mammy before she died that +I would look after you—always."</p> + +<p>Still Jeems Henry made no answer and old +Uncle Billy saw fit to make a disclosure.</p> + +<p>"He's gwine up to Chickahominy." Then +to Jeems Henry he added something in low +tones which made the young negro's eyes roll +wildly with fear. "Dey tells me dat der's +<i>hants</i> and <i>ghoses</i> over dar. I hopes dey'll git +you."</p> + +<p>"Stop that!" commanded Mrs. Cary. "You +know very well, Uncle Billy, there are no such +things as ghosts."</p> + +<p>"Nor'm I don't, Miss Hallie," responded +Uncle Billy, sticking tenaciously to his point, +because he could plainly see Jeems Henry +wavering. "'Twas jes las' night I hear one—moanin' +'roun' de smoke house. An' ef I ain't +mighty fur wrong, she was smellin' arfter +Jeems Henry."</p> + +<p>At this wild fabrication, the reason for +which she nevertheless appreciated, Mrs. Cary +had hard work to hold back a smile, although +she promptly reassured the terrified Jeems +Henry.</p> + +<p>"There now—there—that will do. Nothing +of that kind will trouble you, James; you may +take my word for it. If you are quite determined +to go I shall not try to keep you. But +what have you in that bundle?"</p> + +<p>"Hi! Hi! Dat's de way to talk!" interrupted +Uncle Billy, excitedly foreseeing +means to prevent Jeems Henry's departure. +"What you got in yo' bundle?"</p> + +<p>Jeems Henry lifted his anguished eyes and +gazed truthfully at his mistress.</p> + +<p>"I ain't got nothin'—what don't b'long to +me, Miss Hallie."</p> + +<p>"I don't mean that," Mrs. Cary responded +kindly. "But you have a long tramp before +you. Have you anything to eat?"</p> + +<p>"Nor'm, I ain't," and Jeems Henry seemed +disturbed.</p> + +<p>"Then you'd better come around to the +kitchen. We'll see what we can find."</p> + +<p>At this unheard-of generosity, Uncle Billy's +eyes opened widely and he exploded in remonstrance.</p> + +<p>"Now, hol' on dar, Miss Hallie! Hol' on. +You ain' got none too much fo' yo'se'f, d'out +stuffin' dis yere six-bit rat hole wid waffles an' +milasses."</p> + +<p>"<i>William!</i>" commanded his mistress.</p> + +<p>"Yas'm," was the meek response, and Uncle +Billy subsided into silence.</p> + +<p>With a sigh, Mrs. Cary turned away toward +the house. "Well, James, are you coming?"</p> + +<p>But Jeems Henry, completely abashed before +this miracle of kindness which he did not +deserve, decided that it was time for him to be +a man.</p> + +<p>"Thank you, Miss Hallie," he gulped, "but +f'um now on I reckon I gwine take keer of +myse'f."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Cary, pausing on the bottom step, +raised her eyes heavenward in a short prayer +that children such as these might somehow be +protected from themselves.</p> + +<p>"Well, James," she said, when she saw there +was nothing more to be done. "I hope you'll +be happy and contented. If you are not—come +back to us. Perhaps, when the war is +over, you'll find things a little more—comfortable. +Good-by, James," and she held out her +hand.</p> + +<p>But this last touch of gentleness was too +much for the young mulatto. Although he +made an obedient step forward, his feelings +overcame him and with an audible snuffle and +his hand over his eyes he retreated—then +turned his back and plunged through the +hedge.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Cary sank down on the step and looked +as if she, too, would like to cry.</p> + +<p>Manfully, Uncle Billy came to her rescue. +"Now don't you care, Miss Hallie. He wan' +no 'count for plowin' no how."</p> + +<p>"Oh, it isn't that, Uncle Billy," Mrs. Cary +replied with a low cry of regret. "It isn't the +actual loss of help, tho' we need it, goodness +knows. But it makes me sad to see them leaving, +one by one. They are such children and +so helpless—without a master hand."</p> + +<p>"Yas'm," agreed Uncle Billy readily. "An' +de marster's han' ought to have a hick'ry stick +in it fer <i>dat</i> nigger. Yas, bless Gawd. But +you got <i>me</i>, Miss Hallie," he announced +proudly. "<i>I</i> ain't runned away to de blue-bellies +yet."</p> + +<p>"No, you dear old thing," Mrs. Cary cried +with laughing relief, and her hand rested on +his shoulder in a gentle caress. "I'd as soon +think of the skies falling. It is just such faithful +friends as you who help me to fight the +best."</p> + +<p>"Um?" said Uncle Billy promptly, not quite +understanding.</p> + +<p>"I mean a woman's battles, Uncle Billy—the +<i>waiting</i> battles—that we fight alone." +Mrs. Gary rose to her feet and turned sadly +away.</p> + +<p>"Yas'm," agreed Uncle Billy. "I dunno +what yo' talkin' 'bout but I spec' you's right. +Yas'm."</p> + +<p>"Dear Uncle Billy," repeated Mrs. Gary, +while her eyes filled with tears. "The most +truthful—the most <i>honest</i>—"</p> + +<p>Mrs. Cary stopped and looked sharply at +something lying on the ground beside the +steps. Then she turned and swept the old +man with an accusing glance which made him +quail.</p> + +<p>"<i>William!</i>" she said, in awful tones.</p> + +<p>"Yas'm," replied Uncle Billy, feverishly.</p> + +<p>"What's <i>that</i>?"</p> + +<p>Uncle Billy immediately became the very +picture of innocence and ignorance. He +looked everywhere but at the helpless rooster.</p> + +<p>"What's what?" he asked. "Aw, dat? +Why—why, dat ain' nothin' 'tall, Miss Hallie. +Dat's—dat's des a <i>rooster</i>. Yas'm."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Cary came down from the steps and +looked carefully at the unfamiliar bird. No +fear that she would not recognize it if it were +hers. "Whose is he?" she asked.</p> + +<p>"You—you mean who he b'longs to?" queried +Uncle Billy, fencing for time in which to +prepare a quasi-truthful reply. "He—he +don' b'long to <i>nobody</i>. He's his <i>own</i> rooster."</p> + +<p>"William!" commanded Mrs. Cary, severely. +"Look at me. <i>Where</i> did you get +him?"</p> + +<p>Here was a situation which Uncle Billy +knew must be handled promptly, and he picked +up the rooster and made an attempt to escape. +"Down on de low grouns—dis mornin'. Dat's +right," he said, as he saw dawning unbelief in +his mistress' face. "Now you have to skuse +me, Miss Hallie. I got my wuck to do."</p> + +<p>"One moment, William," interposed Mrs. +Cary, completely unconvinced. "You are +sure he was on the low grounds?"</p> + +<p>"Cose I is!" asseverated Uncle Billy, meanwhile +backing farther away.</p> + +<p>"What was he doing there?"</p> + +<p>Uncle Billy stammered.</p> + +<p>"He—he—he, he was trespassin', dat's what +he was doin'—des natcherly trespassin'."</p> + +<p>At this marvel of testimony, Mrs. Cary's +lips relaxed in a smile and she warned him +with an upraised finger.</p> + +<p>"Be careful, Uncle Billy! Be careful."</p> + +<p>"Yas, <i>mar'm</i>" chuckled the old man. "I +<i>had</i> to be. I never would a-got him! Oh, +I's tellin' de trufe, Miss Hallie. Dis' here ol' +sinner tooken flewed off a boat what was +comin' up de river. Yas'm. And he sure +was old enough to know better."</p> + +<p>"And you <i>saw</i> him fly off the boat?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, yas'm. I seed him. I seed him," and +Uncle Billy floundered for a moment, caught +in his own trap. "Dat is, not wid my own +eyes. But I see him settin' in de woods, +lookin' dat lonesome and losted like, I felt real +sorry for him. Yas'm," and to prove his deep +sympathy for the unfortunate bird he stroked +its breast lovingly.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Cary turned away to hide her laughter. +"How did you catch him?"</p> + +<p>"How?" repeated Uncle Billy, while his ancient +mind worked with unusual rapidity. "I +got down on all fo's in the thick weeds, an' +cluk like a hen. An' den ol' Mr. Rooster, he +came 'long over to see ef I done laid an aig—an' +I des reach right out an' take him home to +de Lawd."</p> + +<p>"Oh, Uncle Billy," his mistress laughed. +"I'm afraid you're incorrigible. It's a dreadful +thing to doubt one's very dinner. Isn't +it?"</p> + +<p>"Yas'm. An' I was des 'bout to say ef you +an' Miss Virgie kin worry down de white meat, +maybe den dis here bird 'll kinder git eben wid +me when I tackle his drum sticks. Yas'm," +and with a final chuckle of joy over his success +the old man hobbled quickly away in the direction +of the kitchen.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Cary, still smiling, went back to play +Mrs. Fatima to a dusky moss-covered Blue +Beard.</p> + +<p>"Oh goody, goody, here is Mrs. Fatima +again!" and Virgie's dancing feet seemed +hardly to touch the ground. "We've just +finished building the castle. Look!" She +pointed proudly to a square of twigs and leaves +around the garden seat. "Come on, Sally +Ann. We can play it now and use Mamma's +keys."</p> + +<p>"Wait dar! Whar'd I put my s'wode?" +And Sally Ann snatched up her dangerous +weapon and thrust it into a rope around her +waist. "Now I'se ready fo' killin' folks."</p> + +<p>"But we have to begin where Blue Beard +goes away on a journey," Virgie cried. "Susan +Jemima, you sit there on the bench and clap +your hands. Get up, Mamma. Go ahead, +Sally Ann!"</p> + +<p>"'Ooman," said Sally Ann, strutting up to +her mistress and frowning terribly. "I'se +gwine away fer a night an' a day. Dese yere +is de keys to de castle."</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir," was the meek response.</p> + +<p>Sally Ann Blue Beard pointed to an imaginary +door halfway between them and where +Virgie sat on the steps, wriggling with delight. +"You kin look in ev'ry room in de house—castle, +I means—'cept in des dat one. +Orn'estan me? <i>Des dat one!</i> But ef yo' +looks in <i>dar</i>,—Gawd he'p you. I gwine cut +yo' haid off," and the fearful sword whizzed +threateningly through the air. "Fyarwell—fyarwell."</p> + +<p>"Farewell, my lord," said Mrs. Cary, and +then in a whisper, as Blue Beard stalked away +to hide behind a tree. "What <i>do</i> we do now? +<i>Quick</i>!"</p> + +<p>"Now I come in," cried Virgie. "I'm +'Sister Anne' that looks for the horseman in +the cloud of dust." And jumping up, the +child managed to change the tones of her voice +in a surprising manner.</p> + +<p>"Good morning, fair sister. Blue Beard +has gone away, and now we can look in his +secret room."</p> + +<p>"No, Sister Anne, No! I dare not," and +Mrs. Fatima shrank back full of fear from the +imaginary door. "Urge me no more. I am +afraid."</p> + +<p>"But, Mother," cried Virgie, with a little +squeal of disappointment. "You <i>have</i> to. +It's part of the play," and she led her up to +the invisible door.</p> + +<p>"Now look in—and when you look—drop +the keys—an' we'll both scream."</p> + +<p>Slowly the door seemed to open and, after +an instant's terrified silence, both actresses +screamed with complete success. Whereupon +Mrs. Fatima dropped to her knees and Sister +Anne hugged her tight.</p> + +<p>"It's blood. It's the blood of his seven +wives. O-o-o-e-e-e!"</p> + +<p>A great roar sounded in their ears.</p> + +<p>"Mercy! What's that?" cried the terrified +Mrs. Fatima.</p> + +<p>"It's Blue Beard. He's coming back," +whereupon Virgie immediately left Mrs. Fatima +to face her fate alone.</p> + +<p>Having spent a night and a day behind the +tree, Blue Beard now rushed upon the castle +and roared for his wife.</p> + +<p>"Greeting, my lord," said the trembling +Mrs. Fatima with a low curtsey "I hope +you have enjoyed your journey."</p> + +<p>"'Ooman," demanded Blue Beard severely. +"What make you look so pale?"</p> + +<p>"I know not, sweet sir. Am I, then, so +pale?"</p> + +<p>"You is! What you be'n up to sence I be'n +away? Ha! What I tole you? Look at +de blood on dat key! False 'ooman, you done +deceib' me. Down on yo' marrow bones an' +prepyar to die!"</p> + +<p>"Spare me, my lord. Spare me! I am +so—"</p> + +<p>It was just about this time that old Uncle +Billy, with a bridle in one hand and a carriage +whip in the other came slowly upon the scene. +At the sight of Sally Ann apparently about +to assault his mistress the bridle dropped from +his hand and with a tight clutch on the carriage +whip he covered the intervening space +at an amazing speed.</p> + +<p>"Hi, dar! You li'l woolly haided imp! +You tech Miss Hallie wid dat ar stick an' I +bus' you wide open!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, stop, Uncle Billy!" cried Virgie in dismay. +"We're only having a play!"</p> + +<p>"Maybe you is; but I lay ef I wrop my carriage +whip roun' her laig, des oncet, she'll hop +all de way to de river."</p> + +<p>At this dismal prospect, which seemed much +truer than the play, Sally Ann began to +whimper loudly. "Miss Hallie, ef he stay +here, I ain't gwine to play."</p> + +<p>"Whar you git dem whiskers at?" demanded +Uncle Billy.</p> + +<p>"Shut up!" cried Virgie.</p> + +<p>"I'm shuttin'," said Uncle Billy, retreating.</p> + +<p>Thus reassured Sally Ann continued:</p> + +<p>"I gwine down stairs to git my dinner +When I come back, I sho' gwine kill you. +Fyar you well," and Blue Beard, making a +wide circle around the carriage whip, took +himself off the scene.</p> + +<p>"Now, Mother," Virgie announced, "I +have to watch at the castle window," and she +jumped up on the bench.</p> + +<p>"Sister Anne; Sister Anne, do you see anybody +coming?"</p> + +<p>"No one, Fatima—nothing but a cloud of +dust made by the wind."</p> + +<p>"Look again, Sister Anne. Do you see +anybody coming?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, Fatima, Fatima. It's growing +bigger."</p> + +<p>"Dar now," interposed Uncle Billy. "She's +seem' som'pin."</p> + +<p>"Sister Anne! Sister Anne. And what do; +you see?"</p> + +<p>"Dust! Dust! I see a horseman in a cloud +of dust. Look! Look! He's coming this +way." By this time Virgie's acting had taken +on so close a resemblance to the real thing that +both Mrs. Gary and Uncle Billy rose to their +feet in wonder.</p> + +<p>"He's jumped the <i>fence</i>," cried Virgie. +"He's cutting across our fields! He sees me! +He's waving his hat to me!" With the last +words the child suddenly jumped down from +the bench and ran through the opening in the +hedge, leaving her mother gazing after her in +sudden consternation.</p> + +<p>"Name we Gawd! Miss Hallie," gasped +Uncle Billy. "You reckon she done brought +somebody, sho' 'nuff? Hi! Hi! <i>I</i> hear sum'-pin. +It's a horse. Lan' er Glory! Hits, +<i>him</i>!"</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_II" id="CHAPTER_II"></a>CHAPTER II</h2> + + +<p>Round the corner of the hedge at a swift +trot came a man in the uniform of an officer +in the Confederate Army,—and Virgie was in +his arms.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Cary gave him one look and threw out +her arms.</p> + +<p>"Herbert!"</p> + +<p>The man on horseback let Virgie slide down +and then dismounted like a flash, coming to +her across the little space of lawn with his +whole soul in his eyes. With his dear wife +caught in his arms he could do nothing but +kiss her and hold her as if he would never again +let her go.</p> + +<p>"Hallie," he breathed, "but it's good to see +you again. It's <i>good</i>." And so they stood +for a long moment, husband and wife united +after months of separation, after dangers and +terrors and privations which had seemed as +if they never would end.</p> + +<p>Sally Ann was one of the first to interrupt, +edging up at the earliest opportunity with her +beard in her hand. "How you does, Mars' +Cary? How you fine yo'sef, seh?"</p> + +<p>"Why, hullo, Sally Ann!" said Cary, and +put out his hand. "What on earth is this +thing?"</p> + +<p>Virgie ran to his side and caught his hand +in hers. "We were playing 'Blue Beard,' +Daddy,—an' you came just like the brother."</p> + +<p>"So you've been Blue Beard, have you, +Sally Ann?—then I must have the pleasure +of cutting you into ribbons." Herbert Cary's +shining saber flashed half out of its scabbard +and then, laughing, he slapped it back with a +clank.</p> + +<p>"Sally Ann," he announced, "I'm going to +turn you into Sister Anne for a while. You +run up to Miss Hallie's room and sit by the +window where you can watch the road and +woods. If you see anything—soldiers, I +mean—"</p> + +<p>"Oh, Herbert!" cried his wife in anguish.</p> + +<p>"S-s-sh!" he whispered. "Go along, Sally +Ann. If you see anyone at all report to me +at once. Understand? Off with you!"</p> + +<p>Uncle Billy now came forward in an effort +to make his master's clothes more presentable.</p> + +<p>"Heh, Mars' Cary, lemme brush you off, +seh. You's fyar kivered."</p> + +<p>"Look out, you old rascal," Cary laughed, +as his wife backed away coughing before the +cloud of fine white dust that rose under Uncle +Billy's vigorous hands. "You're choking +your mistress to death. Never mind the dust. +I'll get it back in ten minutes."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Cary clasped her hands together at +her breast with a look of entreaty.</p> + +<p>"Herbert! Must you go so soon?"</p> + +<p>Her husband looked back at her with eyes +dark with regret.</p> + +<p>"Yes," he said briefly. "I'm on my way to +Richmond. How many horses are there in +the stable?"</p> + +<p>"Two—only two," was the broken response, +as his wife sank down disconsolate on a bench. +"Belle and Lightfoot—we sold the others—I +<i>had</i> to do it."</p> + +<p>"Yes, I know, little woman. It couldn't +be helped. Here, Billy! Take my horse and +get Belle out of the stable. Lead them down +to the swamp and hide them in the cedars. +Then saddle Lightfoot—bring him here and +give him some water and a measure of corn. +Look sharp, Billy! Lively!"</p> + +<p>In the face of danger to his master Uncle +Billy's response was instant. "Yes, seh. +Right away, seh," and he took Cary's lathered +animal and made off for the stables at top +speed.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Cary looked up at her husband with a +great fear written on her face.</p> + +<p>"Why, Herbert dear. You—you don't +mean to say that the Yankees are in the neighborhood?"</p> + +<p>Immediately Cary was on the bench beside +her with his arm around her, while Virgie +climbed up on the other side.</p> + +<p>"Now, come," he murmured, "be a brave +little woman and don't be alarmed. It may +be nothing after all. Only—there are several +foraging parties—small ones, a few miles +down the river. I've been dodging them all +morning. If they come at all they won't +trouble either you or Virgie."</p> + +<p>"But <i>I'm</i> not afraid of them, Daddy-man," +cried the small daughter, and she doubled up +her fist ferociously. "Look at <i>that</i>."</p> + +<p>"Aha! There's a brave little Rebel," her +father cried as he swept her up in a hearty hug. +"<i>You're</i> not afraid of them,—nor you either, +God bless you," and his lips rested for a moment +on his wife's soft cheek. "Only, you are +apt to be a little too haughty. If they search +the house for arms or stragglers, make no resistance. +It's best."</p> + +<p>"Yes, yes, I know," his wife cried out, "but +you, dear, <i>you</i>! Why are you here? Why +aren't you with your company?"</p> + +<p>Cary looked away for a moment across the +fields and down the slope towards the shimmering +river. They were very beautiful—he +wondered why he had not fully realized +all that wife and child and home meant to him +when he volunteered recently for a certain +hazardous duty. He knew, too, how quickly +his dear wife would know the full extent of +the peril with which he felt himself surrounded. +And so his reply was short and +seemingly gruff, as many another man's has +been under too heavy circumstances.</p> + +<p>"Scouting duty. I've been on it for the +past two months."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Cary's hand went to her heart.</p> + +<p>"A <i>scout</i>, Herbert! But, darling, why? +It's so dangerous—so horrible—so—"</p> + +<p>He put up his hand, with a forced smile, to +check her, and broke in gayly.</p> + +<p>"Ah, but think of the fun in it. It's like +playing hide-and-go-seek with Virgie."</p> + +<p>But his wife was not to be put off so lightly +and she put her impelling hands on his arm.</p> + +<p>Gary changed his tone. His voice deepened.</p> + +<p>"They need me, dear," he said earnestly. +"What does danger to one man mean when +Dixie calls us all? And I'm doing work—good +work. I've already given one battle to +General Lee and now I have information that +will give him another and a bigger one. Two +nights ago I came through the Union lines. +I ..."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Cary rose unsteadily to her feet.</p> + +<p>"Through the Yankee lines! Oh, Herbert. +<i>Not as a spy!</i>"</p> + +<p>"A spy? Of course not. I hid in the +woods all day, then climbed a tall pine tree +and got the lay of their camp—the number of +their guns—the disposition of forces and their +lines of attack. Yesterday I had the wires at +Drury's Bluff and started trouble. I'm on my +way now to join my command, but I had a +good excuse for coming home to hold you in +in my arms again, if only for a moment. You +see, poor old Roger got a wound in his flank—from +a stray bullet."</p> + +<p>"A <i>stray</i> bullet," asked Mrs. Gary, doubtfully.</p> + +<p>"Yes," he smiled, for he had escaped it, "a +stray bullet meant for <i>me</i>."</p> + +<p>"But, Daddy," Virgie interrupted, "while +you were up in the tree—"</p> + +<p>A wild whoop broke off Virgie's question. +Sally Ann was rushing down the steps, her +eyes rolling up with excitement.</p> + +<p>"Mars' Cary! Mars' Cary! Somebody +comin' long de road!"</p> + +<p>"Who? How many?" Cary demanded, +springing up and running towards the gate +that opened on the wagon road over the +hills.</p> + +<p>"Des' one," responded Sally Ann with +naïve truthfulness. "Ol' Dr. Simmons. He +drivin' by de gate in de buggy."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Cary threw up her hands with a muffled +cry of relief and laughter. "Oh, Sally! +Sally!" she exclaimed, "you'll be the death +of me."</p> + +<p>"But Lor! Miss Hallie," said Sally plaintively, +"he <i>tole</i> me fer to tell him."</p> + +<p>Cary, returning, waved Sally Ann back to +her post. "That's right," he laughed. +"You're a good sentry, Sally Ann. Go back +and watch again. <i>Scoot</i>!"</p> + +<p>"Herbert," and his wife stood before him. +"Come into the house and let me give you +something to eat."</p> + +<p>For answer Cary gently imprisoned her +face in his hands. "Honey, I can't," he said, +his eyes grown sad again. "Just fix me up +something—anything you can find. I'll +munch it in the saddle."</p> + +<p>For a moment their lips clung and then she +stepped back with a broken sigh. "I'll do the +best I can, but oh! how I wish it all were over +and that we had you home again."</p> + +<p>A spasm crossed the man's face. "It soon +<i>will</i> be over, sweetheart. It soon <i>will</i> be."</p> + +<p>His wife flung him a startled look. "You +mean—Oh, Herbert! Isn't there a single +hope—even the tiniest ray?"</p> + +<p>Cary took her hands in his, looked into her +eyes and his answer breathed the still unconquered +spirit of the South. "There is always +hope—as long as we have a man." Mrs. Cary +went into the house, slowly, wearily, and Cary +turned to Virgie.</p> + +<p>"Well, little lady," her father said, resting +his hand on Virgie's shining head. "Have +you been taking good care of mother—and +seeing that Uncle Billy does his plowing +right?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir," came the prompt response. +"Susan Jemima an' me have been lookin' +after everything—but we had to eat up General +Butler!"</p> + +<p>"General Butler," cried her father, astounded.</p> + +<p>"Yes, Daddy—our lastest calf. We named +him that 'cause one day when I was feedin' +him with milk he nearly swallowed my silver +spoon."</p> + +<p>"Ha-ha," laughed the amused soldier, and +swept her up in his arms. "If we could only +get rid of all their generals as easy as that +we'd promise not to eat again for a week. +Everything else all right?"</p> + +<p>"No, sir," said Virgie, dolefully. "All the +niggers has runned away—all 'cept Uncle +Billy and Sally Ann. Jeems Henry runned +away this morning."</p> + +<p>"The deuce he did! The young scamp!"</p> + +<p>"He's gone to join the Yankees," Virgie +continued.</p> + +<p>"What's that?" and Cary sprang up to pace +to and fro. "I wonder which way he went?"</p> + +<p>"I don' know," whimpered Virgie forlornly. +"I only wish I was a soldier with a big, sharp +sword like yours—'cause when the blue boys +came I'd <i>stick</i> 'em in the stomach."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Cary was coming down the steps now +with a small package of food and in the roadway +Uncle Billy stood feeding and watering +his master's horse. In this bitterest of moments, +when his own family had to be the ones +to hurry him along his way, there had come +another and greater danger—peril to those he +loved.</p> + +<p>"Tell me, dear," he said with his hand warm +on his wife's soft shoulder. "Is it true that +Jeems Henry ran away this morning?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," she nodded. "I knew the poor boy +meant to leave us sooner or later, so I made +no effort to detain him."</p> + +<p>"You did right," was the answer. "But +which way did he go?"</p> + +<p>"Up the river. To a Union camp on the +Chickahominy."</p> + +<p>"Chickahominy!" exclaimed Cary sharply, +and bit his lips. "So that's the lay of the land, +eh! I'm mighty glad you told me this. But +still—" Cary's voice faded away under the +weight of a sudden despair. What was the +use of fighting forever against such fearful +odds? What could they ever gain—save a little +more honor—and at what dreadful cost?</p> + +<p>"What makes you look so worried, Herbert?" +his wife murmured, her nerves on edge +again.</p> + +<p>"Yes, it's true," the man said with a groan. +"They're gradually closing in on us—surrounding +Richmond."</p> + +<p>"<i>Surrounding us?</i>" Mrs. Cary whispered, +hardly believing her ears.</p> + +<p>"Yes, it's true—all too true," the man +burst out bitterly. "We can fight against +thousands—and against tens of thousands but, +darling, we can't fight half the world."</p> + +<p>He sank down on the bench, one elbow on +his crossed knee, the other arm hanging listlessly +by his side. His face grew lined and +haggard. All the spirit, the indomitable +courage of a moment ago had fled before the +revelation that, try as they might, they could +never conquer in this terribly unequal fight. +Then he threw out his hand and began to +speak, half to her and half to the unseen armies +of his fellows.</p> + +<p>"Our armies are exhausted. Dwindling +day by day. We are drawing from the cradle +and the grave. Old men—who can scarcely +bear the weight of a musket on their shoulders: +and boys—mere children—who are sacrificed +under the blood-stained wheels. The +best! The flower of our land! We are +dumping them all into a big, red hopper. +Feed! Feed! Always more feed for this +greedy machine of war!"</p> + +<p>Silently wife and daughter came to the man +in his despair, as if to ward off some dark +shape which hovered over him with brushing +wings. Their arms went around him together.</p> + +<p>"There, there, dear," he heard a soft voice +whisper, "don't grow despondent. <i>Think!</i> +Even though you've fought a losing fight it +has been a glorious one—and God will not +forget the Stars and Bars! Remember,—you +still have us—who love you to the end—and +fight your battles—on our knees."</p> + +<p>Slowly the man looked up.</p> + +<p>"Forgive me, honey," he murmured remorsefully. +"You are right—and bravest, +after all. It is you—you women, who save us +in the darkest hours. You—our wives—our +mothers—who wage a silent battle in the +lonely, broken homes. You give us love and +pity—tenderness and tears—a flag of pride +that turns defeat to victory. The women of +the South," he cried, and Herbert Cary +doffed his hat before his wife, "the crutch +on which the staggering hope of Dixie leans!"</p> + +<p>There came, then, the sound of hurrying +footsteps. Once more Sally Ann rushed from +the house but this time genuine danger was +written plainly in her face.</p> + +<p>"Mars' Cary! Mars' Cary! Dey's comin' +dis time—sho' 'nuff!"</p> + +<p>"How many?" Cary cried, springing for the +roadway and his horse.</p> + +<p>"Dey's comin' thu' de woods—an' Lawd +Gawd, de yearth is fyar blue wid' 'em."</p> + +<p>"Billy!" commanded Cary. "Take Lightfoot +as fast as you can down to the edge +of the woods. Don't worry, Hallie, they'll +never catch me once I'm in the saddle."</p> + +<p>He stooped and kissed her, then caught up +Virgie for a last hug, burying his worn face +in her curls. "Good-by, little one. Take +good care of Mother. Good-by!"</p> + +<p>With one last grasp his wife caught his +hand. "Herbert! which way do you go?"</p> + +<p>"Across the river—to the Chesterfield side."</p> + +<p>"But the Yankees came that way, too!"</p> + +<p>"I'll circle around them. If they've left a +guard at the crossing I'll swim the river +higher up." He slapped his holster with his +open hand. "Listen for three shots. If they +come in quick succession—then I've crossed—I'm +safe. If I only had a few men I'd stay, +but alone, I can't—you know I can't. Good-by! +God bless you." And in another moment +he was in the saddle—had waved his +hand—was gone.</p> + +<p>Straining their eyes after him, as if they +would somehow pierce the dark woods which +hid his flight, mother and daughter stood as +if turned to stone. Only Virgie, after a moment, +waved her hand and sent her soft, +childish prayer winging after him to save him +from all harm. "Good-by, Daddy-man, +good-by!"</p> + +<p>Sally Ann, however, having seen the approaching +danger with her own eyes, began +to wring her hands and cry hysterically. +"Aw, Miss Hallie, I so skeered! I so +skeered!"</p> + +<p>"Sally," cried Mrs. Cary, as the sound of +hoofbeats thudding through the woods came +unmistakably to her ears, "take Virgie with +you instantly and run down through the grove +to the old ice house. Hide there under the +pine tags. Understand?"</p> + +<p>But the negro girl, ashen with terror, +seemed incapable of flight.</p> + +<p>"I skeered to go, Miss Hallie," she whimpered. +"I wan' stay here wid you! Ou-ou!"</p> + +<p>"But you can't, I tell you," her mistress answered, +as the certainty of the girl's helplessness +before a questioner flashed through her +mind. "You'd tell everything."</p> + +<p>"Oh, come on, you big baby," Virgie urged, +pulling at Sally Arm's sleeve. "<i>I'll</i> take +care of you." Then her eye fell on Susan +Jemima lying neglected on the bench and she +gave a faint scream at her heartlessness. +"Goodness gracious, Mother," she cried, as, +still holding on to Sally Ann, she ran and +caught up her beloved doll. "I nearly forgot +my child!"</p> + +<p>With the clank of sabers and the sound of +gruff commands already in her ears, Mrs. +Cary turned peremptorily to Uncle Billy.</p> + +<p>"Remember, William! If the Yankees +ask for my husband <i>you haven't seen him!</i>"</p> + +<p>"Nor'm, dat's right," was the prompt +answer. "I dunno you eben got one. But +you go in de house, Miss Hallie. Dat's de +bes' way,—yas'm."</p> + +<p>"Perhaps it <i>is</i> best," his mistress answered. +"The longer we can detain them the better for +Captain Cary. You'd better come in yourself."</p> + +<p>"Yas'm," replied the faithful old man, although +such action was farthest from his +thoughts. "In des' a minnit. I'll be dar in +des' a minnit."</p> + +<p>But once his mistress had closed the door +behind her Uncle Billy's plan of operations +changed. Hurrying down the steps he +plunged his arm under the porch and drew +forth—a rusty ax. With his weapon over +his shoulder he hastened up on the veranda and +stood with his back against the door.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_III" id="CHAPTER_III"></a>CHAPTER III</h2> + + +<p>The thudding feet came nearer. A bugle +call—a rattling of accouterments and then, +from the other side of the hedge, came a half +dozen troopers in blue, led by a Sergeant with +a red face and bloodshot eyes.</p> + +<p>"This way, boys!" the Sergeant shouted, and +at the sound of a harsh, never-forgotten voice +Uncle Billy's grasp on his ax grew tighter. +"<i>I</i> know the place—I've been here before. +<i>We'll</i> get the liquor and silver while the Colonel +is stealing the horses, eh?" Then his eyes +fell on Uncle Billy and he greeted him with +a yell of recognition. "Hello, you black old +ape! Come down and show us where you +buried the silver and the whisky. Oh, you +won't? Then I'll come up and get you," and +he lurched forward.</p> + +<p>"Look here, white man," Uncle Billy +shouted, lifting the rusty ax high in the +air, "you stay whar you is. Ef you come up +dem steps I'll split yo' ugly haid! I know +you, Jim Dudley," he cried. "Mars' Cary +done give you <i>one</i> horse whippin', an' ef you +hang aroun' here you'll get anudder one!"</p> + +<p>Furious at the recollection of his shame of +a few years back when he had been overseer +on this same plantation, the Sergeant rushed +up the steps and knocked the ax aside with +his gun barrel. "Yes, he did whip me, burn +him, and now I'll do the same for you." +Seizing Uncle Billy by the throat he pushed +him against the house.</p> + +<p>Instantly the door swung open. Mrs. +Cary, her head held high, her beautiful dark +eyes blazing with wrath, stood on the +threshold.</p> + +<p>"Stop it!" she commanded in tones that +brooked no disobedience even from a drunkard. +"Let my servant go—instantly!"</p> + +<p>Astounded at this sudden apparition the +man shrank back for a moment, but almost +as quickly regained his bluster.</p> + +<p>"Ah-hah, the beautiful Mrs. Cary, eh! I'm +glad to see you looking so well—and handsome."</p> + +<p>The words might as well have been spoken +to the wind for all the notice that the woman +paid them. With only a gesture of mingled +contempt and loathing she stepped to the railing +and called to the grinning troopers below. +"Who is in command here?"</p> + +<p>To her horror only Dudley answered.</p> + +<p>"<i>I</i> am," he said, triumphantly. He thrust +a menacing face close to hers and ordered her +curtly. "And I'd just as soon have <i>you</i> get +me a drink as the nigger. Come on, fine +lady."</p> + +<p>Intent on insulting this woman whose husband +had once cut his back with a whip the man +caught her by the arm and roughly tried to +pull her to him. But before he could accomplish +his purpose retribution fell on him with +a heavy hand.</p> + +<p>Through a gap in the hedge an officer at +the head of a dozen troopers appeared. One +look at the scene on the veranda and Lieutenant-Colonel +Morrison, with a smothered +cry, dashed up the steps.</p> + +<p>"You beastly coward," and catching the +drunkard by the collar he twisted him around +and hurled him thudding and bumping down +the steps. "Dudley, I ought to have you +shot." He swept his arm out and gave voice +to a ringing command. "Report to Lieutenant +Harris—at once—<i>under arrest!</i> Corporal! +Take his gun." He paused a moment +as a brother of the man now under arrest +stepped forward with a sullen face and +obeyed orders. Running his glance over the +line of faces, now suddenly vacant of expression, +he whipped them mercilessly with his +eye. "You men, too, will hear from me. Go +to the stable and wait. Another piece of +work like this and I'll have your coats cut off +with a belt buckle! Clear out!"</p> + +<p>Then he turned to the beautiful woman in +white who stood only a few feet away, no +longer timid but in entire possession of her +faculties before what, she knew, might prove +a greater danger than a drunkard.</p> + +<p>"Madam," said the Union officer as he +doffed his hat, "I couldn't apologize for this, +no matter how hard I tried; but, believe me, +I regret it—deeply."</p> + +<p>In answer she slowly raised her heavy lidded +eyes and gave him her first thrust—smoothly +and deftly.</p> + +<p>"No apology is demanded," she murmured +in soft tones. "I was merely unfamiliar with +the Union's method of attack."</p> + +<p>"Attack!" he repeated, astounded, and +stepped back.</p> + +<p>"What else?" she asked, simply. "My +home is over-run; my servant assaulted—by a +drunken ruffian."</p> + +<p>"The man will be punished," was the stern +reply, "to the limit of my authority."</p> + +<p>"He <i>should</i> be. We know him," the Southern +woman said bitterly. "Before the war he +was our overseer. He was cruel to the negroes +and my husband gave him a taste of his +own discipline—with a riding whip!"</p> + +<p>"Ah, I see," Morrison nodded. "But it is +not always in an officer's power to control each +individual in the service—especially at such a +time. Yet I assure you on the part of the +Union—and mine—that there was no intention +of attack."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Cary had chosen this moment in which +to draw her visitor off the veranda and when +she had successfully brought him to the foot +of the steps she looked up in smiling sarcasm +with another thrust.</p> + +<p>"Oh! Then since your visit would seem a +<i>social</i> one—how may I serve you, sir?"</p> + +<p>Morrison laughed lightly. This pretty cat +could scratch.</p> + +<p>"I'm afraid, dear madam, you are wrong +again. My detachment is on foraging duty. +It is not a pleasant task—but our army is in +need of horses and supplies, and by the rules +of war, I must take what I can find."</p> + +<p>"Even by force?" came the quiet inquiry.</p> + +<p>"Yes, even force," he answered, reddening. +"With its proper limitations. I rob you, it is +true, but by virtue of necessity. In return I +can only offer, as I would to every other +woman of the South, all courtesy and protection +at my command," and Lieutenant-Colonel +Morrison, for the second time, took off his hat.</p> + +<p>The Southern woman swept him a curtsey +filled with graceful mockery.</p> + +<p>"I thank you. There is consolation—and +even flattery—in being plundered by a gentleman." +She made a short gesture which +took in house, plantation and all the Cary +possessions. "I regret sincerely that we +have nothing left; yet I beg you—help yourself."</p> + +<p>Colonel Morrison bit his lip, half in vexation +and half in amusement. "At least you +make my undertaking a difficult one, although +I must admit, I hardly blame you." And +then, with a quick, searching look, "Are there +any rebels hidden in your house?"</p> + +<p>"No," she answered.</p> + +<p>"No wounded officers—or refugees of any +kind?"</p> + +<p>"None."</p> + +<p>"You give me your word for this—your +oath?"</p> + +<p>The Southern woman's head went up and +her eyes flashed. "I do," she said contemptuously +and moved away.</p> + +<p>"Thank you," was the grave reply, and he +turned to dismiss his men. Then a thought +struck him and he detained her with a gesture.</p> + +<p>"Pardon me, but if it <i>was</i> true—if a brother +or a father—was concealed in there—wouldn't +your answer be the same?"</p> + +<p>The answer that came proudly back did not +amaze him. "I would try to protect them—yes! +Even with a <i>perjury</i>!"</p> + +<p>"Ah!" he said sharply. "Then, don't you +you see, you tie the hands of courtesy and +<i>force</i> me to—to this invasion of your home. +<i>Corporal!</i> Make a search of the house for +hidden arms or stragglers and report to me. +If any rebels are found—bring them out. +Wait," he ordered, as the Corporal promptly +started forward, "nothing else, <i>whatever</i>, must +be taken or molested."</p> + +<p>"One moment," commanded Mrs. Cary in +her turn and beckoned to Uncle Billy who +had been standing by in silence. "William! +conduct these soldiers through my house—and +show them every courtesy. If the Colonel's +orders are not obeyed, report to me."</p> + +<p>"Yas'm," grinned Uncle Billy, with an +opera bouffe salute. "Ev'ry molestashun I'se +gwine report."</p> + +<p>Morrison laughed outright. "I'm sorry +you still have doubts of my honorable intentions. +May—may my soldiers go in now? +Thank you."</p> + +<p>He walked away a few steps, then turned +and looked at her where she sat on the bench +demurely sewing. It occurred to him that +she was <i>too</i> demure. Besides, he had discovered +something.</p> + +<p>"Er—it is true that I found your stable +empty," he said, while his eyes probed hers, +"but, curiously enough, it seems to have been +recently occupied."</p> + +<p>"Yes?" was the non-committal reply.</p> + +<p>"Yes," he echoed, with a touch of iron in his +voice. "And you can insure our leaving you +more quickly if you will tell me where these +horses have been hidden."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Cary did not raise her eyes.</p> + +<p>"Granted that we <i>had</i> them," she said, "I'm +afraid I must trouble you to look for them. +Otherwise there would be no sense in trying +to protect my property."</p> + +<p>"Right again," he acknowledged, but did +not swerve from what he had to do. "Orderly," +he commanded, "report to Lieutenant +Harris at the stables and have him hunt the +woods and swamp for hidden horses. Hurry! +We must leave in half an hour."</p> + +<p>As Morrison spoke his eye fell on the roadway +and he started perceptibly. When he +turned back to the woman on the bench it was +with a sterner light in his eye.</p> + +<p>"I also notice that a horse has recently been +fed and watered in your carriage road. +<i>Whose was he?</i>"</p> + +<p>Again that smooth, soft voice with its +languid evasions. "We have several neighbors, +Colonel. They visit us at infrequent +times."</p> + +<p>"Undoubtedly," he conceded. "But do +you usually feed their horses?"</p> + +<p>She smiled faintly. "What little hospitality +is ours extends to both man and beast."</p> + +<p>"I can well believe it," he replied, for he +saw to cross-examine this quick witted woman +would be forever useless. "And in happier +times I could wish it might extend—to me.</p> + +<p>"Oh, I mean no offense," he interrupted +as Mrs. Cary rose haughtily. "I only want +you to believe that I'm sorry for this intrusion."</p> + +<p>She raised her eyebrows faintly and sat +down again. "And was that the reason why +you asked about my neighbor's horse?"</p> + +<p>"No," he said quickly, and as suddenly +caught and held her eye. "There's a Rebel +scout who has been giving us trouble—a handsome +fellow riding a bay horse. I thought, +perhaps, he might have passed this way."</p> + +<p>If he had thought he would detect anything +in her face he was once more mistaken.</p> + +<p>"It is more than possible," Mrs. Cary remarked +with a touch of weariness. "The +road out there is a public one."</p> + +<p>"And where does it lead to, may I ask?"</p> + +<p>"That depends upon which way you are +traveling—and which fork you take."</p> + +<p>"Possibly. But suppose you were riding +north. Wouldn't the right fork lead to Richmond—and +the left swing around toward the +river crossing?"</p> + +<p>"As to that I must refer you to a more competent +authority," she answered with a hint of +some disclosure in her tones.</p> + +<p>"Who?"</p> + +<p>"Mr. Jefferson Davis," she replied and almost +laughed outright as he turned away to +hide his vexation. This was an easy game for +her to play—and every moment she gained +added to Herbert's safety. But if only she +could hear those three shots from across the +river.</p> + +<p>"Well, Harris?" said Morrison as his Lieutenant +strode up.</p> + +<p>"I have to report, sir, that we've gotten +what little hay and corn there was in the +stables and are waiting for your orders."</p> + +<p>"Very well," and Lieutenant-Colonel Morrison's +incisive words rang mercilessly in the +listening woman's ears. "Pick out the best +shots you have among your men and send +them at the gallop down this road to the river +crossing. String them along the bank, dismount +them and have them watch as they've +never watched before. You understand? +Now <i>hurry</i>!"</p> + +<p>If ever a woman hated a man, or rather the +crushing force he typified, then Herbert +Cary's wife hated this clear headed, efficient +Northerner, who was now discovering how he +had been delayed and thwarted. Yet she had +plenty of spirit left, for as Corporal Dudley +and his file of troopers emerged from the +house she stood up and caught Uncle Billy's +eye.</p> + +<p>"Well, Corporal?" asked Morrison.</p> + +<p>"Well, William?" asked Mrs. Cary.</p> + +<p>"It's all right, Miss Hallie," Uncle Billy +grinned. "Dey ain't took nothin'—not a +single thing."</p> + +<p>"Thank you, William," said Mrs. Cary, +having triumphed again. "And thank <i>you</i>, +gentlemen." With a bow to Morrison she +went superbly back to her seat under the +trees. But as she went it took all her strength +of will to keep from crying. Down the carriage +road a squad of cavalry was galloping +furiously towards the river. And still she +had not heard the three shots.</p> + +<p>"Now, then, Corporal, you found what?"</p> + +<p>"Nothing, sir. We hunted from cellar to +roof. No arms and no rebels."</p> + +<p>"H'm," he mused. "Anything else?"</p> + +<p>"Three bedrooms, sir. All in use."</p> + +<p>"Three?" Colonel Morrison exclaimed. +"Very well. That's all. I'll join you in a +moment." Then he turned to Mrs. Cary, his +face stern with resolve.</p> + +<p>"Madam," he said crisply, "you are not +alone on this plantation with only this old negro. +We are wasting time. I'm after a +Rebel scout and <i>I want him</i>. Which way +did he go?"</p> + +<p>"I'm sorry, sir," she said, quite ready to +play her game again. "But our Rebel scouts +usually neglect to mention their precise intentions."</p> + +<p>"Perhaps. If this one went at all. Is he +still here?"</p> + +<p>"I should imagine—<i>not</i>."</p> + +<p>"Then he did go this way—to the river +crossing?"</p> + +<p>Once more he caught and held her eyes and +thought he would read the truth in spite of +anything she might say.</p> + +<p>But while he looked he saw her strained +face suddenly relax—saw the anxiety flee +from her eyes—saw heart and soul take on new +life. From far away across the river had +come some faint popping sounds, regularly +spaced—<i>three shots</i>.</p> + +<p>"Ah!" he said, in wonder. "What is that?"</p> + +<p>"It <i>sounds</i>," laughed Herbert Cary's wife, +"like firing. But I think it is a friend of +mine saluting me—from the safe side of the +river. Good evening, Colonel," and she +swept by him. She could go find Virgie now.</p> + +<p>Just then came the sound of a horse, galloping. +Up the road came a trooper, white with +dust, his animal flecked with foam.</p> + +<p>"For Colonel Morrison. Urgent," he +rasped from a dry throat, as he thudded across +the lawn and dismounted. "From headquarters," +and he thrust out a dispatch, "I'm +ordered to return with your detachment."</p> + +<p>Snatching the dispatch from the man's +hand Morrison ran his eye over it—then +started visibly.</p> + +<p>"Orderly! Report to Harris double-quick. +Recall the men. Sound boots-and-saddles. +Then bring my horse—<i>at once!</i> Any details?" +he asked peremptorily of the courier.</p> + +<p>"Big battle to-morrow," the man answered. +"Two gunboats are reported coming up the +river and a wing of the Rebel army is advancing +from Petersburg. Every available +detachment is ordered in. You are to reach +camp before morning."</p> + +<p>"All right. We'll be there." Then, as the +bugle sounded, "Ride with us," he said, and +strode over to where Mrs. Cary stood, arrested +by the news.</p> + +<p>"Madam, I must make you a rather hurried +farewell—and a last apology. If ever we +meet again, I hope the conditions may be +happier—for you."</p> + +<p>"I thank you, Colonel," the proud Southern +woman said sincerely, with a curtsy. "Some +day the 'rebel scout' may thank you also for +me and mine." And with a smile that augured +friendship when that brighter day +should come she passed out of his sight among +the trees.</p> + +<p>For a moment he watched her, proud at +least that this proud woman was of his own +race, then saw that the old negro, her only protector, +still guarded the house.</p> + +<p>"Here, old man," he commanded, "go along +with your mistress and take care of her. I'll +be the last to leave and see that nothing happens +to the house."</p> + +<p>"Yas, seh. Thank'e, seh," said old Uncle +Billy, coming down. "If all of 'em was only +lek you, seh—"</p> + +<p>Uncle Billy suddenly turned and looked up +at the house, his mouth open in consternation. +With a cry of anguish he pointed to an upper +window.</p> + +<p>"Look what dey done done," he shrieked. +"Aw, Gawd a'mighty! Look what dey done +done!"</p> + +<p>A cloud of smoke was rolling from the +windows, shot through with yellow jets of +flame. There was the sound of clumsy boots +on the stairs and the door was thrown open. +Dudley, escaped from arrest, ran out with a +flaming pine torch in his hand.</p> + +<p>"Halt!" cried Morrison, with raging anger. +"Dudley! HALT!"</p> + +<p>But Dudley knew that there would be little +use in halting and so ran on until a big revolver +barked behind him and he pitched heavily +forward on his face. Morrison looked down +on the prostrate form and his lips moved sadly, +pityingly:</p> + +<p>"And I promised her—protection!"</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IV" id="CHAPTER_IV"></a>CHAPTER IV</h2> + + +<p>Of all the memories of war, after the dear +dead are buried, there is one that serves to +bring the struggle back in all the intensity +of its horrors—to stand both as a monument +to those who bled and suffered and as a lonely +sentinel mourning for the peace and plenty +of the past—a blackened chimney.</p> + +<p>Of all the houses, cabins, barns and cribs +which had made up the home of the Carys a +few short months ago nothing remained to-day +but ashes and black ruin. Only one building +had been left unburned and this, before +the war, had been the cabin of an overseer. +It had but two rooms, and a shallow attic, +which was gained by means of an iron ladder +reaching to a closely fitting scuttle in the ceiling. +The larger room was furnished meagerly +with a rough deal table, several common +chairs, and a double-doored cupboard against +the wall. In the deep, wide fire-place glowed +a heap of raked-up embers, on which, suspended +from an iron crane, a kettle simmered, +sadly, as if in grief for her long-lost brother +pots and pans. The plaster on the walls had +broken away in patches, especially above the +door, where the sunlight streamed through +the gaping wound from a cannon shot. The +door and window shutters were of heavy oak, +swinging inward and fastening with bars; yet +now they were open, and through them could +be seen a dreary stretch of river bottom, withering +beneath the rays of a July sun.</p> + +<p>Beyond a distant fringe of trees the muddy +James went murmuring down its muddy +banks, where the blue cranes waited solemnly +for the ebbing tide; where the crows cawed +hoarsely in their busy, reeling flight, and the +buzzards swung high above the marshes. Yet +even in this waste of listless desolation came +the echoed boom of heavy guns far down the +river, where the "Rebs" and "Yanks" were +pounding one another lazily.</p> + +<p>From the woods which skirted the carriage +road a man appeared—a thin, worn man, in a +uniform of stained and tattered gray—a man +who peered from right to left, as a hunted rabbit +might, then darted across the road and +plunged into the briery underbrush. Noiselessly +he made his way to the now deserted +cabin, creeping, crawling till he reached a +point below an open window, then slowly raised +himself and looked within.</p> + +<p>"Virgie!" he whispered cautiously. "Virgie!"</p> + +<p>No answer came. For a moment the man +leaned dizzily against the windowsill, his eyes +fast closed with a nameless dread, till he +caught his grip again and entered the open +door.</p> + +<p>"Virgie!" he called, in a louder tone, moving +swiftly but unsteadily toward the adjoining +room. He flung its door open sharply, +almost angrily; yet the name on his lips was +tender, trembling, as he called: "Virgie! +Virgie!"</p> + +<p>In the loneliness of dread, he once more +leaned for support against the wall, wondering, +listening to the pounding of his heart, +to the murmur of the muddy James, and the +fall of a flake of plaster loosened by the dull +reverberation of a distant gun; then suddenly +his eye was caught by the kettle simmering on +the fire, and he sighed in swift relief.</p> + +<p>He wiped his brow with a ragged sleeve +and went to where a water-bucket stood behind +the door, knelt beside it, drinking deeply, +gratefully, yet listening the while for unwonted +sounds and watching the bend of +the carriage road. His thirst appeased, he +hunted vainly through the table drawer for +balls and powder for the empty pistol at his +hip; then, instinctively alert to some rustling +sound outside, he crouched toward the adjoining +room, slipped in, and softly closed the +door.</p> + +<p>From the sunlit world beyond the cabin +walls rose the murmur of a childish song and +Virgie came pattering in.</p> + +<p>She had not changed greatly in stature in +the past few months, but there was a very noticeable +decrease in the girth of her little arms +and body, and her big dark eyes seemed the +larger for the whiteness of her face. On her +head she wore an old calico bonnet several +sizes too large and the gingham dress which +scarcely reached to her bare, brown knees +would not have done, a few months ago, for +even Sally Ann. In one hand Virgie carried +a small tin bucket filled with berries; in the +other she clutched a doll lovingly against her +breast.</p> + +<p>Not the old Susan Jemima, but a new Susan +Jemima on whom an equal affection was being +lavished even though she was strangely and +wonderfully made. To the intimate view of +the unimaginative, Susan Jemima was formed +from the limb of a cedar tree, the forking +branches being her arms and legs, her costume +consisting of a piece of rag tied at the waist +with a bit of string.</p> + +<p>On a chair at the table Virgie set her doll, +then laughed at the hopelessness of its breakfasting +with any degree of comfort, or of ease.</p> + +<p>"Why, Lord a-mercy, child, your chin don't +come up to the table."</p> + +<p>On the chair she placed a wooden box, +perching the doll on top and taking a seat +herself just opposite. She emptied the blackberries +into a mutilated plate, brought from +the cupboard a handful of toasted acorns, on +which she poured boiling water, then set the +concoction aside to steep.</p> + +<p>"Now, Miss Susan Jemima," said Virgie, +addressing her vis-à-vis with the hospitable +courtesy due to so great a lady, "we are goin' +to have some breakfas'." She paused, in a +shade of doubt, then smiled a faint apology: +"It isn't very <i>much</i> of a breakfas', darlin', +but we'll make believe it's waffles an' chicken +an'—an' hot rolls an' batter-bread an'—an' +everything." She rose to her little bare feet, +holding her wisp of a skirt aside, and made a +sweeping bow. "Allow me, Miss Jemima, to +make you a mos' delicious cup of coffee."</p> + +<p>And, while the little hostess prepared the +meal, a man looked out from the partly open +door behind her, with big dark eyes, which +were like her own, yet blurred by a mist of +pity and of love.</p> + +<p>"Susan," said the hostess presently, "it's +ready now, and we'll say grace; so don't you +talk an' annoy your mother."</p> + +<p>The tiny brown head was bowed. The tiny +brown hands, with their berry-stained fingers, +were placed on the table's edge; but Miss +Susan Jemima sat bolt upright, though listening, +it seemed, to the words of reverence falling +from a mother-baby's lips:</p> + +<p>"Lord, make us thankful for the blackberries +an' the aco'n coffee an'—an' all our +blessin's; but please, sir, sen' us somethin' that +tastes jus' a little better—if you don't mind. +Amen!"</p> + +<p>And the man, who leaned against the door +and watched, had also bowed his head. A +pain was in his throat—and in his heart—a +pain that gripped him, till two great tears +rolled down his war-worn cheek and were lost +in his straggling beard.</p> + +<p>"Virgie!" he whispered hoarsely. "Virgie!"</p> + +<p>She started at the sound and looked about +her, wondering; then, as the name was called +again, she slid from her chair and ran forward +with a joyous cry:</p> + +<p>"Why, Daddy! Is it you? Is—"</p> + +<p>She stopped, for the man had placed a +finger on his lip and was pointing to the door.</p> + +<p>"Take a look down the road," he ordered, +in a guarded voice; and, when she had reached +a point commanding the danger zone, he +asked, "See anybody?—soldiers?" She shook +her head. "Hear anything?"</p> + +<p>She stood for a moment listening, then ran +to him, and sprang into his waiting arms.</p> + +<p>"It's all right, Daddy! It's all right +now!"</p> + +<p>He raised her, strained her to his breast, +his cheek against her own.</p> + +<p>"My little girl!" he murmured between his +kisses. "My little rebel!" And as she +snuggled in his arms, her berry-stained fingers +clasped tightly about his neck, he asked her +wistfully, "Did you miss me?—<i>awful</i> much?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," she nodded, looking into his eyes. +"Yes—in the night time—when the wind was +talkin'; but, after while, when—Why, +Daddy!" He had staggered as he set her +down, sinking into a chair and closing his eyes +as he leaned on the table's edge. "You +are hurt!" she cried. "I—I can see the +blood!"</p> + +<p>The wounded Southerner braced himself.</p> + +<p>"No, dear, no," he strove to reassure her. +"It isn't anything; only a little scratch—from +a Yank—that tried to get me. But he didn't, +though," the soldier added with a smile. "I'm +just—tired."</p> + +<p>The child regarded him in wondering awe, +speaking in a half-breathed whisper:</p> + +<p>"Did he—did he <i>shoot</i> at you?"</p> + +<p>Her father nodded, with his hand on her +tumbled hair.</p> + +<p>"Yes, honey, I'm afraid he did; but I'm so +used to it now I don't mind it any more. Get +me a drink of water, will you?" As Virgie +obeyed in silence, returning with the dripping +gourd, the man went on: "I tried to get here +yesterday; but I couldn't. They chased me +when I came before—and now they're watching." +He paused to sip at his draught of +water, glancing toward the carriage road. +"Big fight down the river. Listen! Can you +hear the guns?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, plain," she answered, tilting her tiny +head. "An' las' night, when I went to bed, +I could hear 'em—oh! ever so loud: Boom! +Boom! Boom-boom! So I knelt up an' +asked the Lord not to let any of 'em hit you."</p> + +<p>Two arms, in their tattered gray, slipped +round the child. He kissed her, in that +strange, fierce passion of a man who has lost +his mate, and his grief-torn love is magnified +in the mite who reflects her image and her +memory.</p> + +<p>"Did you, honey?" he asked, with a trembling +lip. "Well, I reckon that saved your +daddy, for not one shell touched him—no, not +one!" He kissed her again, and laughed. +"And I tell you, Virgie, they were coming as +thick as bees."</p> + +<p>Once more he sipped at the grateful, cooling +draught of water, when the child asked +suddenly:</p> + +<p>"How is Gen'ral Lee?"</p> + +<p>Down came the gourd upon the table. The +Southerner was on his feet, with a stiffened +back; and his dusty slouch hat was in his hand.</p> + +<p>"He's well; God bless him! Well!"</p> + +<p>The tone was deep and tender, proud, but +as reverent as the baby's prayer for her father's +immunity from harm; yet the man who spoke +sank back into his seat, closing his eyes and +repeating slowly, sadly:</p> + +<p>"He's well; God bless him! But he's tired, +darling—mighty tired."</p> + +<p>"Daddy," the soldier's daughter asked, "will +you tell him somethin'—from me?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, dear. What?"</p> + +<p>"Tell him," said the child, with a thoughtful +glance at Miss Susan Jemima across the table, +"tell him, if he ever marches along this way, +I'll come over to his tent and rub his head, like +I do yours—if he'll let me—till he goes to +sleep." She clasped her fingers and looked +into her father's eyes, hopefully, appealingly. +"Do you think he would, if—if I washed my +hands—real clean?"</p> + +<p>The Southerner bit his lip and tried to smile.</p> + +<p>"Yes, honey, I know he would! And think! +He sent a message—to <i>you</i>."</p> + +<p>"Did he?" she asked, wide-eyed, flushed with +happiness. "What did he say, Daddy? +What?"</p> + +<p>"He said," her father answered, taking her +hands in his: "'She's a brave little soldier, to +stay there all alone. Dixie and I are proud +of her!'"</p> + +<p>"Oh, Daddy, did he? Did he?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, dear, yes," the soldier nodded; "his +very words. And look!" From his boot leg +he took a folded paper and spread it on his +knee. "He wrote you a pass—to Richmond. +Can you read it?"</p> + +<p>Virgie leaned against her father's shoulder, +studying the paper long and earnestly; then, +presently looked up, with a note of grave but +courteous hesitation in her tone:</p> + +<p>"Well—he—well, the Gen'ral writes a awful +bad hand, Daddy."</p> + +<p>Her father laughed in genuine delight, vowing +in his heart to tell his general and friend +of this crushing criticism, if ever the fates of +war permitted them to meet again.</p> + +<p>"Dead right!" he agreed, with hearty +promptness. "But come, I'll read it for you. +Now then. Listen:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"HEADQUARTERS OF THE ARMY OF NORTHERN VA.</p> + +<p>"<i>Pass Virginia Cary and escort through all Confederate +lines and give safe-conduct wherever possible.</i></p> + +<p>"R.E. LEE, <i>General</i>."</p></div> + +<p>There was silence for a moment, then Virgie +looked up, with tears in her eyes and voice.</p> + +<p>"An' he did that—for little <i>me</i>? Oh, +Daddy, I love him so much, it—it makes me +want to cry."</p> + +<p>She hid her face on the coat of gray, and +sobbed; while her father stroked her hair and +answered soothingly, but in a tone of mourning +reverie:</p> + +<p>"So do we all, darling; big grown men, who +have suffered, and are losing all they love. +They are ragged—and wounded—hungry—and, +oh, so tired! But, when they think of +<i>him</i>, they draw up their belts another hole, and +say, '<i>For General Lee!</i>' And then they can +fight and fight and fight—till their hearts stop +beating—and the god of battles writes them +a bloody pass!"</p> + +<p>Again he had risen to his feet. He was +speaking proudly, in the reckless passion of +the yet unconquered Southerner, only half-conscious +of the tot who watched him, wondering. +So she came to him quickly, taking +his hand in both her own, and striving to bring +him comfort from the fountain of her little +mother-heart.</p> + +<p>"Don't you worry, Daddy-man. We'll—we'll +whip 'em yet."</p> + +<p>"No, dear—no," he sighed, as he dropped +into his seat. "We won't. It's hard enough +on men; but harder still on children such as +you." He turned to her gravely, earnestly: +"Virgie, I had hoped to get you through to +Richmond—to-day. But I can't. The Yankees +have cut us off. They are up the +river and down the river—and all around us, +I've been nearly the whole night getting here; +creeping through the woods—like an old +Molly-cotton-tail—with the blue boys everywhere, +waiting to get me if I showed my head."</p> + +<p>"But they didn't, did they?" said Virgie, +laughing at his reference to the wise old rabbit +and feeling for the pockets of his shabby coat, +"Did you—did you bring me anything?"</p> + +<p>At her question the man cried out as if in +pain, then reached for her in a wave of yearning +tenderness.</p> + +<p>"Listen, dear; I—I had a little bundle for +you—of—of things to eat." He took her by +the arms, and looked into her quaint, wise face, +"And I was so glad I had it, darling, for you +are thinner than you were." He paused to +bite his lip, and continued haltingly, "There +was bread in that bundle—and meat—real +meat—and sugar—and tea."</p> + +<p>Virgie released herself and clapped her +hands.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Daddy, where is it?" she asked him +happily, once more reaching for the pocket. +"'Cause I'm <i>so</i> hungry for somethin' good."</p> + +<p>"Don't! Don't!" he cried, as he drew his +coat away, roughly, fiercely, in the pain +of unselfish suffering. "For Daddy's sake, +don't!"</p> + +<p>"Why, what is it, Daddy," she asked, in +her shrillness of a child's alarm, her eyes on +the widening stain of red above his waist. "Is—is +it hurtin' you again? What is it, Daddy-man?"</p> + +<p>"Your bundle," he answered, in the flat, +dull tone of utter hopelessness. "I lost it, +Virgie. I lost it."</p> + +<p>"Oh," she said, with a quaver of disappointment, +which she vainly strove to hide. "How +did you do it?"</p> + +<p>For a moment the man leaned limply +against a chair-back, hiding his eyes with one +trembling hand; then he spoke in shamed +apology:</p> + +<p>"I—I couldn't help it, darling; because, +you see, I hadn't any powder left; and I was +coming through the woods—just as I told you—when +the Yanks got sight of me." He +smiled down at her bravely, striving to add a +dash of comedy to his tragic plight. "And I +tell you, Virgie, your old dad had to run like +a turkey—wishing to the Lord he had wings, +too."</p> + +<p>Virgie did not smile in turn, and her father +dropped back into his former tone, his pale +lips setting in a straight, hard line.</p> + +<p>"And then—the blue boy I was telling you +about—when he shot at me, I must have stumbled, +because, when I scrambled up, I—I +couldn't see just right; so I ran and ran, thinking +of you, darling, and wanting to get to you +before—well, before it was breakfast time. I +had your bundle in my pocket; but when I +fell—why, Virgie, don't you see?—I—I +couldn't go back and find it." He paused to +choke, then spoke between his teeth, in fury +at a strength which had failed to breast a barrier +of fate: "But I <i>would</i> have gone back, if +I'd had any powder left. I <i>would</i> have! I +would!"</p> + +<p>A pitiful apology it was, from a man to a +little child; a story told only in its hundredth +part, for why should he give its untold horrors +to a baby's ears? How could she understand +that man-hunt in the early dawn? The fugitive—with +an empty pistol on his hip—wading +swamps and plunging through the tangled +underbrush; alert and listening, darting from +tree to tree where the woods were thin; crouching +behind some fallen log to catch his laboring +breath, then rising again to creep along +his way. He did not tell of the racking pain +in his weary legs, nor the protest of his pounding +heart—the strain—the agony—the puffs +of smoke that floated above the pines, and the +ping of bullets whining through the trees. He +did not tell of the ball that slid along his ribs, +leaving a fiery, aching memory behind, as the +man crashed down a clay bank, to lie for an +instant in a crumpled heap, to rise and stumble +on—not toward the haven of his own Confederate +lines, but forward, to where a baby +waited—through a dancing mist of red.</p> + +<p>And so the soldier made his poor apology, +turning his head away to avoid a dreaded look +in Virgie's big, reproachful eyes; then he +added one more lashwelt to his shame:</p> + +<p>"And now your poor old daddy is no more +use to you. I come to my little girl with +empty hands—with an empty gun—and an +empty heart!"</p> + +<p>He said it bitterly, in the self-accusing +sorrow of his soul; and his courage, which had +borne him through a hell of suffering, now +broke; but only when a helper of the helpless +failed. He laid his outflung arms across the +table. He bowed his beaten head upon them +and sobbed aloud, with sobs that shook him +to his heels.</p> + +<p>It was then that Virgie came to him again, +a little daughter of the South, who, like a hundred +thousand of her sisters, brought comfort +in the blackest hours.</p> + +<p>One tiny, weak arm was slipped about his +neck. One tiny brown hand, with its berry-stained +fingers, was run through his tangled +hair, softly, tenderly, even as she longed to +soothe the weary head of General Lee.</p> + +<p>"Don't cry, Daddy-man," she murmured in +his ear; "it's all right. <i>I</i> can eat the blackberries. +They—they don't taste so <i>awful</i> good +when you have 'em <i>all</i> the time; but <i>I</i> don't +mind." She paused to kiss him, then tried +once more to buoy his hope and hers. "We'll +have jus' heaps of things when we get to Richmon'—jus' +heaps—an' then—"</p> + +<p>She stopped abruptly, lifting her head and +listening, in the manner of a sheep dog scenting +danger from afar. Her father looked up +sharply and gripped her hands.</p> + +<p>"Virgie! You hear—<i>what</i>?"</p> + +<p>"Horses! Oh, a lot of 'em! On the big +road!"</p> + +<p>It was true, for down the breeze came the +faintly echoed thud of many hoofs and the +clinking jingle of sabers against the riders' +thighs. Virgie turned back from the open +door.</p> + +<p>"Why—why, they've turned into <i>our</i> road!" +Her breath came fast, as she sank her voice +to a faint, awed whisper, "Daddy—do you +reckon it's—<i>Yankees</i>?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," said her father, who had risen to +his feet. "Morrison's cavalry! They won't +hurt <i>you</i>; but I'll have to get to the woods +again! Good-by, honey! Good-by!"</p> + +<p>He kissed her hurriedly and started for the +door, but shrank into the shadow at sight of a +blue-clothed watcher sharply outlined on the +crest of a distant rise. Escape was cut off, +and the hunted soldier turned to Virgie in his +need.</p> + +<p>"Shut the door—quick!" She obeyed in +silence. "Lock it!" She turned the rusty +key, and waited. "Now the windows! +Hurry, but do it quietly."</p> + +<p>She closed the clumsy shutters and set the +heavy bars into their slots; then the man came +forward, knelt down before her and took her +hands.</p> + +<p>"Listen, Virginia," he whispered earnestly; +"don't you remember how your dear, dear +mother—and I, too, darling—always told you +never to tell a lie?"</p> + +<p>"An' I haven't, Daddy-man," she protested, +wondering. "'Deed, an' 'deed, I haven't. +Why—"</p> + +<p>"Yes, yes, I know," he interrupted hurriedly; +"but now—<i>you must</i>!" As the child +stepped backward and tried to draw away, he +clasped her hands more tightly still. "But +listen, dear; it's to save <i>me</i>! Don't you understand?—and +it's <i>right</i>! When those men +come, they mustn't find me. Say I <i>was</i> here, +but I've gone. If they ask which way, tell +them I went down past the spring—through +the blackberry patch. Do you understand?—and +can you remember?" She nodded +gravely, and the Southerner folded her tightly +in his arms. "Be a brave little rebel, honey—<i>for +me</i>!"</p> + +<p>He released her and began to mount the ladder +leading to the scuttle in the ceiling; but +halfway up he paused, as Virgie checked him +with a solemn question:</p> + +<p>"Daddy—would Gen'ral Lee want me to +tell that lie?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, dear," he answered slowly, thoughtfully; +"this once! And, if ever you see him, +ask him, and he'll tell you so himself. God +help you, darling; it's for General Lee—and +<i>you</i>!"</p> + +<p>The littlest rebel sighed, as though a weight +had been lifted from her mind, and she cocked +her head at the sound of louder hoof-beats on +the carriage road.</p> + +<p>"All right, Daddy-man. I'll tell—a <i>whopper</i>!"</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_V" id="CHAPTER_V"></a>CHAPTER V</h2> + + +<p>The man crawled up through the scuttle hole +and disappeared; then drew the ladder after +him and closed the trap, while Virgie tiptoed +to the table and slipped into a seat.</p> + +<p>The cabin was now in semi-darkness, except +for a shaft of sunlight entering through the +jagged wound from the cannon-shot above the +door; and it fell on the quaint, brown head of +little Miss Virginia Cary, and the placid form +of Susan Jemima, perching opposite, in serene +contempt of the coming of a conquering host.</p> + +<p>The jingling clank of sabers grew louder +to the listeners' ears, through the rumble of +pounding hoofs; a bugle's note came winnowing +across the fields, and Virgie leaned forward +with a confidential whisper to her doll:</p> + +<p>"Susan Jemima, I wouldn't tell anybody +else—no, not for anything—but I cert'n'y am +awful scared!"</p> + +<p>There came a scurrying rush, a command to +halt, and a rustling, scraping noise of dismounting +men; a pause, and the sharp, loud +rap of a saber hilt against the door. Virgie +breathed hard, but made no answer.</p> + +<p>"Open up!" called a voice outside, but the +little rebel closed her lips and sat staring at +Susan Jemima across the table. A silence +followed, short, yet filled with dread; then +came a low-toned order and the crash of carbine +butts on the stout oak door. For a time +it resisted hopefully, then slowly its top sagged +in, with a groaning, grating protest from its +rusty hinges; it swayed, collapsed in a cloud of +dust—and the enemy swept over it.</p> + +<p>They came with a rush; in the lead an officer, +a naked saber in his fist, followed by a squad +of grim-faced troopers, each with his carbine +cocked and ready for discharge. Yet, as suddenly +as they had come, they halted now at the +sight of a little lady, seated at table, eating +berries, as calmly as though the dogs of war +had never even growled.</p> + +<p>A wondering silence followed, till broken +by a piping voice, in grave but courteous reproof:</p> + +<p>"I—I don't think you are very polite."</p> + +<p>The officer in command was forced to smile.</p> + +<p>"I'm sorry, my dear," he apologized; "but +am afraid, this time, I can't quite help it." +He glanced at the door of the adjoining room +and turned to his waiting men, though speaking +in an undertone: "He's in there, I guess. +Don't fire if you can help it—on account of +the baby. Now then! Steady, boys! Advance!"</p> + +<p>He led the way, six troopers following, +while the rest remained behind to guard the +cabin's open door. Virgie slowly turned her +head, with eyes that watched the officer's every +move; then presently she called:</p> + +<p>"Hey, there! That's <i>my</i> room—an' don't +you-all bother any of my things, either!"</p> + +<p>This one command, at least, was implicitly +obeyed, for in a moment the disappointed +squad returned. The carbine butts were +grounded; the troopers stood at orderly attention, +while their officer stepped toward the +table.</p> + +<p>"What's your name, little monkey?"</p> + +<p>Virgie raised her eyes in swift reproach.</p> + +<p>"I don't like to be called a monkey. It—it +isn't respectful."</p> + +<p>The Union soldier laughed.</p> + +<p>"O-ho! I see." He touched his hat and +made her a sweeping bow. "A thousand pardons, +Mademoiselle." He shot his sword into +its scabbard, and laughed again. "Might I +inquire as to what you are called by your—er—justly +respectful relatives and friends?"</p> + +<p>"Virgie," she answered simply.</p> + +<p>"Ah," he approved, "and a very pretty +name! Virgie what?"</p> + +<p>"My whole name is Miss Virginia Houston +Gary."</p> + +<p>The soldier started, glanced at his troopers, +then back to the child again:</p> + +<p>"Is Herbert Cary your father?"</p> + +<p>He waited for her answer, and got it, +straight from a baby's shoulder:</p> + +<p>"<i>Mister</i> Herbert Cary is—yes, sir."</p> + +<p>The enemy smiled and made her another +bow.</p> + +<p>"I stand corrected. Where is your father +now?"</p> + +<p>Virgie hesitated.</p> + +<p>"I—I don't know."</p> + +<p>The voice of her inquisitor took on a sterner +tone:</p> + +<p>"Is he here?—hiding somewhere? Tell +me!"</p> + +<p>Her little heart was pounding, horribly, and +the hot blood came into her cheeks; but she +looked him squarely in the face, and lied—for +General Lee:</p> + +<p>"No, sir. Daddy <i>was</i> here—but he's gone +away."</p> + +<p>The enemy was looking at her, intently, and +his handsome, piercing eyes, grew most uncomfortable. +She hung for an instant between +success and sobbing failure, till a bubble +from Mother Eve rose up in her youthful +blood and burst into a spray of perfect feminine +deceit. She did not try to add to her +simple statement, but began to eat her berries, +calmly, as though the subject were completely +closed.</p> + +<p>"Which way did he go?" the officer demanded, +and she pointed with her spoon.</p> + +<p>"Down by the spring—through the blackberry +patch."</p> + +<p>The soldier was half-convinced. He stood +for a moment, looking at the floor, then asked +her sharply, suddenly:</p> + +<p>"If your father had gone, then why did you +lock that door?"</p> + +<p>She faltered, but only for an instant.</p> + +<p>"'Cause I thought you might be—<i>niggers</i>."</p> + +<p>The man before her clenched his hands, as +he thought of that new-born, hideous danger +menacing the South.</p> + +<p>"I see," he answered gently; "<i>yes</i>, I see." +He turned away, but, even as he turned, his +eye was caught by the double-doored cupboard +against the wall. "What do you keep in +there?" he asked; and the child smiled faintly, +a trifle sadly, in reply:</p> + +<p>"We <i>used</i> to keep things to eat—when we +had any."</p> + +<p>He noted her mild evasion, and pushed the +point.</p> + +<p>"What is in it now?"</p> + +<p>"Tin pans."</p> + +<p>"Anything else?"</p> + +<p>"Er—yes, sir."</p> + +<p>He caught his breath and stepped a little +nearer, bending till his face was close to +hers.</p> + +<p>"What?"</p> + +<p>"Colonel Mosby," declared the mite, with a +most emphatic nod; "an' you better look out, +too!"</p> + +<p>The officer laughed as he turned to his grinning +squad.</p> + +<p>"Bright little youngster! Still, I think we'll +have a look." He dropped his air of amusement, +growing stern again. "Now, men! +Ready!"</p> + +<p>They swung into line and faced the cupboard, +the muzzles of their carbines trained +upon it, while their leader advanced, swung +open the doors, and quickly stepped aside.</p> + +<p>On the bottom shelf, as Virgie had declared, +were a few disconsolate tin pans; yet tacked +to the door was a picture print of Mosby—that +dreaded guerrilla whose very name was a bugaboo +in the Union lines.</p> + +<p>The littlest rebel flung back her head and +laughed.</p> + +<p>"My, but you looked funny!" she cried to +the somewhat disconcerted officer, pointing at +him with her spoon. "If a mouse had jumped +out, I reckon it would have scared you mos' to +death."</p> + +<p>The officer's cheeks flushed red, in spite of +his every effort at control; nor was he assisted +by the knowledge that his men were tittering +behind his back. He turned upon them +sharply.</p> + +<p>"That will do," he said, and gave a brusque +command: "Corporal, deploy your men and +make a thorough search outside. Examine +the ground around the spring—and report!"</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir," returned Corporal Dudley saluting +and dropping his hand across his mouth +to choke off an exclamation of anger. Then +he snarled at his men, to ease the pain of +thwarted vengeance: "<i>'Tention! Right face! +Forward! March!</i>"</p> + +<p>The squad trooped out across the broken +door, leaving their commanding officer alone +with his rebel prisoner.</p> + +<p>"Now, Virgie," he asked, in a kindly tone, +though holding her eyes with his, "do you mean +to tell me—cross your heart—that you are +here, just by yourself?"</p> + +<p>"Er—no, sir." As he opened his lips to +speak, she pointed to her doll. "Me an' Susan +Jemima."</p> + +<p>"Well, that's a fact," he laughed. "Hanged +if I'm not losing all my social polish." He +gallantly removed his hat, bowed gravely to +the cedar stick, and shook its hand. "Charmed +to make your acquaintance, Miss Susan, believe +me. My own name is Morrison—Lieutenant-Colonel +Morrison—at your service." +He turned to the little mother with a smile that +showed a row of white and even teeth. "And +now," he said, "since we are all informally introduced, +suppose we have a quiet, comfortable +chat." He paused, but she made no answer. +"Well? Aren't you going to ask me +to have some breakfast?"</p> + +<p>Virgie cast a troubled gaze into the plate +before her.</p> + +<p>"Er—no, sir."</p> + +<p>"What? Why not?"</p> + +<p>She faltered, and answered slowly:</p> + +<p>"'Cause—'cause you're one of the damn +Yankees."</p> + +<p>"Oh! oh! oh!" exclaimed the soldier, shocked +to hear a baby's lips profaned. "Little girls +shouldn't use such words. Why, Virgie!"</p> + +<p>She raised her eyes, clear, fearless, filled with +vindicating innocence.</p> + +<p>"Well, it's your <i>name</i>, isn't it? <i>Everybody</i> +calls you that."</p> + +<p>"Um—yes," he admitted, striving to check +the twitching of his lips; "I suppose they do—south +of Washington. But don't you know +we are just like other people?" She shook her +head. "Oh, yes, we are. Why, <i>I</i> have a little +girl at home—not any bigger than you."</p> + +<p>"Have you?" asked Virgie, her budding +racial prejudice at war with youthful curiosity. +"What's her name?"</p> + +<p>"Gertrude," he answered softly, tenderly. +"Gertrude Morrison. Would you like to see +her picture?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," said the little rebel, and stepped +across the gulf which had lain between her and +her enemy. "You can sit down if you want +to. Jus' put Susan Jemima on the table."</p> + +<p>"Thank you," returned her visitor, obeying +instructions, seating himself and loosening the +upper buttons of his coat. On his neck, suspended +by a chain, was a silver locket containing +the miniature of a plump and pretty child. +It had lain there since the war began, through +many a bivouac, many a weary march, and +even in the charge he could feel it tapping +against his breast; so now, as he held it out to +Virgie, the father's hand was trembling.</p> + +<p>"There she is. My Gertrude—my little +Gertrude."</p> + +<p>Virgie leaned forward eagerly.</p> + +<p>"Oh!" she said, in unaffected admiration, +"She's <i>mighty</i> pretty. She's—" The child +stopped suddenly, and raised her eyes. "An' +she's fat, too. I reckon Gertrude gets lots +to eat, doesn't she?"</p> + +<p>"Why, yes," agreed the father, thinking of +his comfortable Northern home; "of course. +Don't you?"</p> + +<p>Virgie weighed the question thoughtfully +before she spoke.</p> + +<p>"Sometimes—when Daddy gets through the +lines and brings it to me."</p> + +<p>The soldier started violently, wrenched back +from the selfish dream of happiness that rose +as he looked at the picture of his child.</p> + +<p>"What! Is <i>that</i> why your father comes?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir."</p> + +<p>"I didn't know! I thought he came—"</p> + +<p>He rose to his feet and turned away, his +thoughts atumble, a pang of parental pity +gnawing at his heart; then he wheeled and +faced her, asking, with a break in his husky +voice:</p> + +<p>"And at other times—what do you eat, +then?"</p> + +<p>She made a quaint, depreciating gesture toward +the appointments of her breakfast table.</p> + +<p>"Blackberries—an'—an' coffee made out of +aco'ns."</p> + +<p>Again the troubled conqueror turned away.</p> + +<p>"Oh, it's a shame!" he muttered between his +teeth. "A wicked shame!"</p> + +<p>He stood for a moment, silently, till Virgie +spoke and jarred him with another confidence.</p> + +<p>"My cousin Norris told me that the Yankees +have bread every day; an' tea—an' milk—an' +everything. <i>An' butter!</i>"</p> + +<p>This last-named article of common diet was +mentioned with an air of reverential awe; and, +somehow, it hurt the well-fed Union officer far +more than had she made some direct accusation +against the invading armies of the North.</p> + +<p>"Don't, Virgie—please," he murmured +softly. "There are some things we just can't +bear to listen to—even in times of war." He +sighed and dropped into his former seat, striving +gently to change the subject. "You have +lived here—always?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, no," she assured him, with a lift of her +small, patrician brows. "<i>This</i> is the overseer's +house. <i>Our</i> house used to be up on the hill, +in the grove."</p> + +<p>"<i>Used</i> to be—?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir. But—but the Yankees burnt it +up."</p> + +<p>Morrison's fist came down on the table with +a crash. He remembered now his raid of some +months before upon this same plantation, so +unfamiliar in its present neglected state. +Again he looked into the fearless eyes of a +Southern gentlewoman who mocked him while +her lover husband swam the river and escaped. +Again he saw the mansion wrapped in flame +and smoke—the work of a drunken fiend in +his own command. Yes, he remembered now; +too well; then he turned to the child and spoke:</p> + +<p>"Tell me about it. Won't you?"</p> + +<p>She nodded, wriggled from her chair, and +stood beside the table.</p> + +<p>"Oh, it was a long time ago—a month, +maybe—an' they came after our horses. +Mamma an' me were all by ourselves—'ceptin' +Uncle Billy and Sally Ann. An' we were +dreadful scared—an' we hid in the ice house."</p> + +<p>She paused. Her listener had leaned his +elbow on the table, his hand across his eyes.</p> + +<p>"Yes, dear. Go on."</p> + +<p>The child had been standing opposite, with +Susan Jemima and the acorn-coffee pot between +them; but gradually she began to edge +a little nearer, till presently she stood beside +him, fingering a shiny button on his coat.</p> + +<p>"An' the blue boys ate up everything we +had—an' took our corn. An' when they went +away from our house, they—a man set it on +fire. But another man got real mad with him, +an'—an' shot him. <i>I</i> know, 'cause Uncle +Billy put him in the ground." She paused, +then sank her voice to a whisper of mysterious +dread, "An'—<i>an' I saw him!</i>"</p> + +<p>"Don't think about it, Virgie," begged Morrison, +slipping his arm about the mite, and trying +not to put his own beloved ones in the little +rebel's place. "What happened then?"</p> + +<p>"We came to live here," said Virgie; "but +Mamma got sick. Oh, she got terrible sick—an' +one night Daddy came through, and put +her in the ground, too. But <i>he</i> says she's jus' +asleep."</p> + +<p>The soldier started. Mrs. Cary dead? +This poor tot motherless? He drew the baby +closer to him, stroking her hair, as her sleeping +mother might have done, and waited for the rest.</p> + +<p>"An' las' Friday, Sally Ann went away—I +don't know where—an'—"</p> + +<p>"What?" asked Morrison. "She left you +here—all by yourself?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir," said the child, with a careless +laugh. "But <i>I</i> don't mind. Sally Ann was +a triflin' nigger, anyhow. You see—"</p> + +<p>"Wait a minute," he interrupted, "what became +of the old colored man who—"</p> + +<p>"Uncle Billy? Yes, sir. We sent him up +to Richmond—to get some things, but he can't +come back—the Yankees won't let him."</p> + +<p>"Won't they?"</p> + +<p>"No, sir. An' Daddy's been tryin' to get +me up to Richmon', where my Aunt Margaret +lives at, but he can't—'cause the Yankees are +up the river an' down the river, an'—an' everywhere—an' +he can't." She paused, as Morrison +turned to her from his restless pacing up +and down. "My, but you've got fine clo'es! +Daddy's clo'es are all rags—with—with holes +in 'em."</p> + +<p>He could not answer. There was nothing +for him to say, and Virgie scorched him with +another question:</p> + +<p>"What did you come after Daddy for?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, not because I <i>wanted</i> to, little girl," +he burst out harshly. "But you wouldn't understand." +He had turned away, and was +gazing through the open door, listening to the +muttered wrath of the big black guns far down +the river. "It's war! One of the hateful, +pitiful things of war! I came because I had +my orders."</p> + +<p>"From your Gen'ral?"</p> + +<p>He lowered his chin, regarding her in mild +astonishment.</p> + +<p>"Yes—my General."</p> + +<p>"An' do you love <i>him</i>—like <i>I</i> love Gen'ral +Lee?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, dear," he answered earnestly; "of +course."</p> + +<p>He wondered again to see her turn away in +sober thought, tracing lines on the dusty floor +with one small brown toe; for the child was +wrestling with a problem. If a soldier had +orders from his general, as she herself might +put it, "he was <i>bound</i> to come"; but still it was +hard to reconcile such duty with the capture of +her father. Therefore, she raised her tiny chin +and resorted to tactics of a purely personal +nature:</p> + +<p>"An' didn't you know, if you hurt my +daddy, I'd tell Uncle Fitz Lee on you?"</p> + +<p>"No," the Yankee smiled. "Is he your +uncle?"</p> + +<p>The littlest rebel regarded him with a look +of positive pity for his ignorance.</p> + +<p>"He's <i>everybody's</i> uncle," she stated +warmly. "An' if I was to tell him, he'd come +right after you an'—an' lick the <i>stuffins</i> out +of you."</p> + +<p>The soldier laughed.</p> + +<p>"My dear," he confided, with a dancing +twinkle in hip eye, "to tell you the honest truth, +your Uncle Fitz has done it already—<i>several</i> +times."</p> + +<p>"Has he?" she cried, in rapturous delight. +"Oh, <i>has</i> he?"</p> + +<p>"He has," the enemy repeated, with vigor +and conviction. "But suppose we shift our +conversation to matters a shade more pleasant. +Take you, for instance. You see—" He +stopped abruptly, turning his head and listening +with keen intentness. "What's that?" he +asked.</p> + +<p>"<i>I</i> didn't hear anything," said Virgie, breathing +very fast; but she too had heard it—a +sound above them, a scraping sound, as of +someone lying flat along the rafters and shifting +his position and, while she spoke, a telltale +bit of plaster fell, and broke as it struck +the floor.</p> + +<p>Morrison looked up, starting as he saw the +outlines of the closely fitting scuttle, for the +loft was so low and shallow that he had not +suspected its presence from an outside view; +but now he was certain of the fugitive's hiding-place. +Virgie watched him, trembling, growing +hot in the pit of her little stomach; yet, +when he faced her, she looked him squarely in +the eye, fighting one last battle for her daddy—as +hopeless as the tottering cause of the +Stars and Bars.</p> + +<p>"You—you don't think he can fly, do +you?"</p> + +<p>"No, little Rebel," the soldier answered +gently, sadly; "but there are other ways." +He glanced at the table, measuring its height +with the pitch of the ceiling, then turned to her +again: "Is your father in that loft?" She +made no answer, but began to back away. +"Tell me the truth. Look at me!" Still no +answer, and he took a step toward her, speaking +sternly: "Do you hear me? <i>Look</i> at +me!"</p> + +<p>She tried; but her courage was oozing fast. +She had done her best, but now it was more +than the mite could stand; so she bit her lip +to stop its quivering, and turned her head +away. For a moment the man stood, silent, +wondering if it was possible that the child had +been coached in a string of lies to trade upon +his tenderness of heart; then he spoke, in a +voice of mingled pity and reproach:</p> + +<p>"And so you told me a story. And all the +rest—is a story, too. Oh, Virgie! Virgie!"</p> + +<p>"I didn't!" she cried, the big tears breaking, +out at last. "I didn't tell you stories'. Only +jus' a <i>little</i> one—for Daddy—an' Gen'ral +Lee."</p> + +<p>She was sobbing now, and the man looked +down upon her in genuine compassion, his own +eyes swimming at her childish grief, his soldier +heart athrob and aching at the duty he must +perform.</p> + +<p>"I'm sorry, dear," he sighed, removing her +doll and dragging the table across the floor +to a point directly beneath the scuttle in the +ceiling.</p> + +<p>"What are you goin' to do?" she asked in +terror, following as he moved. "Oh, what are +you goin' to do?"</p> + +<p>He did not reply. He could not; but when +he placed a chair upon the table and prepared +to mount, then Virgie understood.</p> + +<p>"You shan't! You shan't!" she cried out +shrilly. "He's my daddy—and you shan't."</p> + +<p>She pulled at the table, and when he would +have put her aside, as gently as he could, she +attacked him fiercely, in a childish storm of +passion, sobbing, striking at him with her +puny fists. The soldier bowed his head and +moved away.</p> + +<p>"Oh, I can't! I can't!" he breathed, in conscience-stricken +pain. "There <i>must</i> be some +other way; and still—"</p> + +<p>He stood irresolute, gazing through the +open door, watching his men as they hunted +for a fellow man; listening to the sounds that +floated across the stricken fields—the calls of +his troopers; the locusts in the sun-parched +woods chanting their shrill, harsh litany of +drought; but more insistent still came the +muffled boom of the big black guns far down +the muddy James. They called to him, these +guns, in the hoarse-tongued majesty of war, +bidding him forget himself, his love, his pity—all +else, but the grim command to a marching +host—a host that must reach its goal, though +it marched on a road of human hearts.</p> + +<p>The soldier set his teeth and turned to the +little rebel, deciding on his course of action; +best for her, best for the man who lay in the +loft above, though now it must seem a brutal +cruelty to both.</p> + +<p>"Well, Virgie," he said, "since you haven't +told me what I want to know, I'll have to take +you—and give you to the Yankees."</p> + +<p>He stepped toward her swiftly and caught +her by the wrist. She screamed in terror, fighting +to break his hold, while the trap above +them opened, and the head and shoulders of +the Southerner appeared, his pistol held in his +outstretched hand.</p> + +<p>"Drop it, you hound!" he ordered fiercely. +"Drop it!"</p> + +<p>The Northerner released his captive, but +stood unmoved as he looked into the pistol's +muzzle and the blazing eyes of the cornered +scout.</p> + +<p>"I'm sorry," he said, in quiet dignity. "I'm +very sorry; but I had to bring you out." He +paused, then spoke again: "And you needn't +bother about your gun. If you'd had any +ammunition, our fire would have been returned, +back yonder in the woods. The +game's up, Cary. Come down!"</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VI" id="CHAPTER_VI"></a>CHAPTER VI</h2> + + +<p>The head and shoulders disappeared. A +short pause followed, then the ladder came +slowly down, and the Southerner descended, +while Virgie crouched, a sobbing little heap, +beside her doll. But when he reached the bottom +rung, she rose to her feet and ran to meet +him, weeping bitterly.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Daddy, Daddy, I didn't do it right! +I didn't do it right!"</p> + +<p>She buried her head in his tattered coat, +while he slipped an arm about her and tried +to soothe a sorrow too great for such a tiny +heart to bear.</p> + +<p>"But you did do it right," he told her. "It +was my fault. Mine! My leg got cramped, +and I had to move." He stooped and kissed +her. "It was <i>my</i> fault, honey; but you?—you +did it <i>splendidly</i>!" He patted her tear-stained +cheek, then turned to his captor, with +a grim, hard smile of resignation to his fate.</p> + +<p>"Well, Colonel, you've had a long chase of it; +but you've gotten my brush at last."</p> + +<p>The Union soldier faced him, speaking +earnestly:</p> + +<p>"Captain Cary, you're a brave man—and +one of the best scouts in the Confederate army. +I regret this happening—more than I can +say." The Southerner shrugged his shoulders. +His Northern captor asked: "Are you carrying +dispatches?"</p> + +<p>"No."</p> + +<p>"Any other papers?—of any kind?" No +answer came, and he added sternly: "It +is quite useless to refuse. Give them to +me."</p> + +<p>He held out his hand, but his captive only +looked him in the eyes; and the answer, though +spoken in an undertone, held a world of quiet +meaning:</p> + +<p>"You can take it—<i>afterwards</i>."</p> + +<p>The Federal officer bit his lip; and yet he +could not, would not, be denied. His request +became demand, backed by authority and the +right of might, till Virgie broke in, in a piping +voice of indignation:</p> + +<p>"You can't have it! It's mine! My pass +to Richmon'—from Gen'ral Lee."</p> + +<p>Morrison turned slowly from the little rebel +to the man.</p> + +<p>"Is this true?" he asked.</p> + +<p>The Southerner flushed, and for reply produced +the rumpled paper from his boot leg, +and handed it over without a word. The +Northerner read it carefully.</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"<i>Pass Virginia Cary and escort through all Confederate +lines and give safe-conduct wherever possible.</i></p> + +<p>"R.E. LEE, <i>General</i>."</p></div> + +<p>The reader crushed the paper in his fist, +while his hand sank slowly to his side, then he +raised his head and asked, in a voice which +was strangely out of keeping with a Lieutenant-Colonel +of the Union Cavalry:</p> + +<p>"And who was to be her escort? You?"</p> + +<p>The captive nodded, smiling his sad, grim +smile; and the captor swallowed hard as he +moved to the cabin door and stood listening +to the muttered rumble of the river guns.</p> + +<p>"I'm sorry, Cary," he whispered brokenly; +"more sorry than you can understand."</p> + +<p>For a long time no one spoke, then the +Southerner went to Virgie, dropping his hand +in tenderness on her tumbled hair.</p> + +<p>"Just go into your room, honey; I want to +talk to Colonel Morrison." She looked up at +him doubtfully; but he added, with a reassuring +smile: "It's all right, darling. I'll call you +in just a minute."</p> + +<p>Still Virgie seemed to hesitate. She shifted +her doubting eyes toward the Union officer, +turned, and obeyed in silence, closing the door +of the adjoining room behind her. Then the +two men faced each other, without the hampering +presence of the child, each conscious of +the coming tragedy that both, till now, had +striven manfully to hide. The one moved +forward toward a seat, staggering as he +walked, and catching himself on the table's +edge, while the other's hand went out to lend +him aid; but the Southerner waved him +off.</p> + +<p>"Thank you," he said, as he sank into a +chair. "I don't <i>want</i> help—from <i>you</i>!"</p> + +<p>"Why not?" asked Morrison.</p> + +<p>"Because," said Cary, in sullen anger, "I +don't ask quarter, nor aid, from a man who +frightens children."</p> + +<p>The Northerner's chin went up; and when +he replied his voice was trembling; not in passion, +but with a deeper, finer something which +had gripped his admiration for the courage +of a child:</p> + +<p>"And I wouldn't hurt a hair of her splendid +little head!" He paused, then spoke again, +more calmly: "You thought me a beast to +frighten her; but don't you know it was the +only thing to do? Otherwise my men might +have had to shoot you—before her eyes." +Cary made no answer, though now he understood; +and Morrison went on: "It isn't easy +for me to track a fellow creature down; to take +him when he's wounded, practically unarmed, +and turn him over to a firing squad. But it's +war, my friend—one of the merciless realities +of war—and you ought to know the meaning +of its name."</p> + +<p>"Yes, I know," returned the Southerner, +with all the pent-up bitterness of a hopeless +struggle and defeat; "it has taken three years +to teach me—<i>and I know</i>! Look at me!" he +cried, as he stood up in his rags and spread +his arms. "Look at my country, swept as +bare as a stubble field! You've whipped us, +maybe, with your millions of money and your +endless men, and now you are warring with +the women and the children!" He turned his +back and spoke in the deep intensity of scorn: +"A fine thing, Colonel! And may you get +your ... reward!"</p> + +<p>The Northerner set his lips in a thin, cold +line; but curbed his wrath and answered the +accusation quietly:</p> + +<p>"There are two sides to the question, Cary; +<i>but there must be one flag</i>!"</p> + +<p>"Then fly your flag in justice!" the Southerner +retorted hotly, wheeling on his enemy, +with blazing eyes and with hands that shook in +the stress of passion. "A while ago you called +me a brave man and a good scout; and, because +I'm both, your people have set a price on me. +Five hundred dollars—alive or dead!" He +laughed; a hoarse, harsh travesty of mirth, and +added, with a lip that curled in withering +contempt: "Alive or dead! A gentleman +and a scout!—for just half the price of one +good, sound nigger! By Heaven, it makes me +proud!"</p> + +<p>Lieutenant-Colonel Morrison looked across +the table at his prisoner, and answered gravely, +yet with a touch of sternness in his military +tone:</p> + +<p>"You are more than a scout, Cary. You've +carried dispatches, and intercepted ours; for +both of which, if taken, you would have been +a prisoner of war, no more. But you've entered +our lines—not in a uniform of gray, <i>but +blue</i>—and you've cost us the loss of two important +battles."</p> + +<p>"And had you done the same," returned the +Southerner, "for you it would have meant promotion. +I've served my cause as best I could; +in the saddle or the rifle pit; in the woods, or +creeping through your lines. If I've cost you +a battle, my life is a puny price to pay, and +I'd pay it without a sigh." He paused and +sank into his seat. "For myself, I don't care +much. I'm worn out, anyway; and I only +wanted to get my little girl to Richmond." +At the thought of Virgie his anger returned +to him, and he once more staggered to his feet.</p> + +<p>"But you," he accused, "you've beaten a baby +by the force of arms! You've run me to earth—and +you've blocked her chance! It's Virgie +you are fighting now—not me—yes, just +as if you rode her down with a troop of horse! +A fine thing, Colonel! For you, a brevet! +For me, a firing squad! Well, call in your +men and get it over!" Again he smiled; a +grim, slow smile of bitterness and scorn. +"Bravo, Colonel Morrison! Bravo! You +add one other glory to your conquering sword—and, +besides, you'll receive five hundred dollars +in reward!"</p> + +<p>The Northerner turned upon him fiercely, +goaded at last to the breaking-point in a struggle +as black and awful as the struggle of his +brother-foe.</p> + +<p>"Stop it, man!" he cried. "I order you to +stop! It's duty!—not a miserable reward!" +His cheeks were flaming; his muscles quivered, +and his fists were clenched. "Do you +actually suppose," he asked, "that I'm +proud of this? Do you think I'm wringing +blood out of your heart and mine—for +money?"</p> + +<p>They faced each other, two crouching, +snarling animals, the raw, primeval passions +of their hearts released, each seeing through +a mist of red; a mist that had risen up to roll +across a mighty land and plunge its noblest +sons into a bloody ruck of war.</p> + +<p>They faced each other, silently; then slowly +the features of the Southerner relaxed. His +bitterness was laid aside. He spoke, in the +soft, slow accent of his people—an accent so +impossible to a trick of print or pen.</p> + +<p>"I'm glad you feel that way; and maybe, +after all, you're doing what you think is right. +Yes—and I know it's hard." He stopped, +then stepped a little nearer, timidly, as Virgie +might have done. "Colonel," he said, +scarce audibly, "I ask you just one thing; not +for myself, but for her—for Virgie. Get the +poor little tad through your lines, will you?—and—and +don't let her know—about +<i>me</i>."</p> + +<p>His captor did not answer him in words, because +of the pain that took him by the throat; +but his hand went out, till it reached another +hand that gripped it gratefully.</p> + +<p>"Thank you, Morrison," said the prisoner +simply. "If it wasn't war times—"</p> + +<p>He choked, and said no more; yet silence +proved more eloquent than human speech. +They were men—brave men—and both were +grateful; the one, because an enemy would +keep his unspoken word; the other, because +a doomed man understood.</p> + +<p>Cary opened the door of his daughter's +room and called to her. She came in quickly, +a question in her big brown eyes.</p> + +<p>"Daddy," she said, "you talked a mighty +long time. It was a heap more than jus' a +minute."</p> + +<p>"Was it?" he asked, and forced a smile. +"Well, you see, we had a lot to say." He +seated himself and, drawing her between his +knees, took both her hands. "Now listen, +honey; I'm going away with this gentleman, +and—" He stopped as she looked up doubtfully; +then added a dash of gayety to his tender +tone: "Oh, but he <i>invited</i> me. And think! +He's coming back for <i>you</i>—to-day—to send +you up to Richmond. Now, isn't that just +fine?"</p> + +<p>Virgie looked slowly from her father to the +Union soldier, who stood with downcast eyes, +his back to them.</p> + +<p>"Daddy," she whispered, "he's a right good +Yankee—isn't he?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, dear," her father murmured sadly, +and in yearning love for the baby he must +leave behind; "yes—he's mighty good!"</p> + +<p>He knelt and folded her in his arms, kissing +her, over and over, while his hand went fluttering +about her soft brown throat; then he +wrenched himself away, but stood for a lingering +instant more, his hands outstretched, +atremble for a last and lingering touch, his +heart a racing protest at the parting he must +speak.</p> + +<p>"Cary!"</p> + +<p>It was Morrison who spoke, in mercy for +the man; and once more Cary understood. +He turned to cross the broken door; to face a +firing squad in the hot, brown woods; to cross +the gulf which stretched beyond the rumble +of the guns and the snarling lip of war. But +even as he turned, a baby's voice called out, in +cheerful parting, which he himself had failed +to speak:</p> + +<p>"Good-by, Daddy-man. I'll see you up in +Richmon'."</p> + +<p>The eyes of the two men met and held, in +the hardest moment of it all; for well they +knew this hopeful prophecy could never be +fulfilled. Morrison sighed and moved toward +the door; but, from its threshold, he could see +his troopers returning at a trot across the +fields.</p> + +<p>"Wait," he said to Cary; "I'd rather my +men shouldn't know I've talked with you." +He pointed to the scuttle in the ceiling. +"Would you mind if I asked you to +go back again? Hurry! They are coming."</p> + +<p>The captured scout saluted, crossed to the +ladder, and began to mount. At the top he +paused to smile and blow a kiss to Virgie, then +disappeared, drew up the ladder after him, +and closed the trap.</p> + +<p>The captor stood in silence, waiting for his +men; yet, while he stood, the little rebel pattered +to his side, slipping her hand in his confidingly.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Yankee," she asked, and looked up +into his face, "are you goin' to let Daddy come +to Richmon', too?"</p> + +<p>Morrison withdrew his hand from hers—withdrew +it sharply—flung himself into a seat +beside the table, and began to scribble on the +back of Virgie's rumpled pass; while the child +stood watching, trusting, with the simple trust +of her little mother-heart.</p> + +<p>In a moment or two, the troopers came +hurrying in, with Corporal Dudley in the lead. +He stood at attention, saluted his superior, +and made his report of failure in the search.</p> + +<p>"Nothing sir. No tracks around the +spring, and no traces of the fellow anywhere; +but—" He stopped. His keen eyes marked +the changed position of the table and followed +upward. He saw the outlines of the scuttle +above his head, and smiled. "But I'm glad +to see that you've had better luck yourself."</p> + +<p>"Yes, Corporal," said Morrison, with a +sharp return of his military tone, "I think +I've found the fox's hole at last." He rose +and gave his orders briskly. "Push that table +forward!—there!—below the trap! Two of +you get on it!" He turned to the Corporal, +while he himself climbed up and stood beside +his men. "Light that candle and pass it up +to me!" The orders were obeyed. "Now, +boys, boost me!—and we'll have him out."</p> + +<p>They raised him, till he pushed the trap +aside and thrust his head and shoulders +through the opening. From below they could +see him as he waved the lighted candle to and +fro, and presently they heard his voice, that +sounded deep and muffled in the shallow loft:</p> + +<p>"All right, boys! You can let me down."</p> + +<p>He slid to the table and sprang lightly to +the floor, facing his troopers with a smile, half-humorous, +half in seeming disappointment, as +he glanced at Virgie.</p> + +<p>"I'm afraid the little rebel's right again. +<i>He isn't there!</i>"</p> + +<p>"Oh!" cried Virgie, then clapped her hands +across her mouth, while the troopers slowly +looked from her into the level eyes of their +commanding officer. He stood before them, +straight and tall, a soldier, every inch of him; +and they knew that Lieutenant-Colonel Morrison +was lying like a gentleman. They knew +that their chief was staking the name and title +of an honorable soldier against the higher, +grander title of "a man."</p> + +<p>Only Corporal Dudley stood disconcerted +at the startling statement, but as there was +no help for it he could only strangle an oath +and give the order to pass out.</p> + +<p>"<i>'Tention! Right face! Forward! March!</i>"</p> + +<p>They mounted and rode a rod or two away, +awaiting orders; while Morrison stood silently +and watched them go. He, too—like Virgie—had +wrestled with a problem, and it stirred +him to the depths. As a trooper must obey, +so also must an officer obey a higher will; yes, +even as a slave in iron manacles. The master +of war had made his laws; and a servant broke +them, knowingly. A captured scout was a +prisoner, no more; a spy must hang, or fall before +the volley of a firing squad. No matter +for his bravery; no matter for the faithful +service to his cause, the man must die! The +glory was for another; for one who waved a +flag on the spine of a bloody trench; a trench +which his brothers stormed—and gave the +blood. No matter that a spy had made this +triumph possible. He had worn a uniform +which was not his own—and the dog must die!</p> + +<p>So ruled the god of warfare; still, did war +prescribe disgrace and death for all? If Cary +had crept through the Union lines, to reach the +side of a helpless little one—<i>yes, even in a +coat of blue</i>—would the Great Tribunal count +his deed accursed? Should fearless human +love reap no reward beyond the crashing epitaph +of a firing squad, and the powder smoke +that drifted with the passing of a soul?</p> + +<p>"No! No!" breathed Morrison. "In God's +name, give the man his chance!"</p> + +<p>He straightened his back and smiled. He +took from the table a rumpled paper and +turned to the littlest factor in the great Rebellion.</p> + +<p>"Here, Virgie! Here's your pass to Richmond—for +you and your escort—through the +Federal lines."</p> + +<p>She came to him slowly, wondering; her tiny +body quivering with suppressed excitement, +her voice a whispering caress:</p> + +<p>"Do you mean for—for Daddy, too?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, you little rebel!" he answered, choking +as he laughed; "but I'm terribly afraid +you'll have to pay me—with a kiss."</p> + +<p>She sprang into his waiting arms, and kissed +him as he raised her up; but when he would +have set her down, her little brown hands, with +their berry-stained fingers, clung tightly about +his neck.</p> + +<p>"Wait! Wait!" she cried. "Here's another +one—for Gertrude! Tell her it's from +Virgie! An' tell her I sent it, 'cause her +daddy is jus' the best damn Yankee that ever +was!"</p> + +<p>The trap above had opened, and the head +and shoulders of the Southerner appeared; +while Morrison looked up and spoke in parting:</p> + +<p>"It's all right, Cary. I only ask a soldier's +pledge that you take your little girl to Richmond—nothing +more. In passing through +our lines, whatever you see or hear—<i>forget</i>!"</p> + +<p>A sacred trust it was, of man to man, one +brother to another; and Morrison knew that +Herbert Cary would pass through the very +center of the Federal lines, as a <i>father</i>, not a +spy.</p> + +<p>The Southerner tried to speak his gratitude, +but the words refused to come; so he stretched +one trembling hand toward his enemy of war, +and eased his heart in a sobbing, broken call:</p> + +<p>"<i>Morrison! Some day it will all—be over!</i>"</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>In the cabin's doorway stood Virgie and +her father, hand in hand. They watched a +lonely swallow as it dipped across the desolate, +unfurrowed field. They listened to the distant +beat of many hoofs on the river road and +the far, faint clink of sabers on the riders' +thighs; and when the sounds were lost to the +listeners at last, the notes of a bugle came +whispering back to them, floating, dipping, +even as the swallow dipped across the unfurrowed +fields.</p> + +<p>But still the two stood lingering in the doorway, +hand in hand. The muddy James took +up his murmuring song again; the locusts +chanted in the hot, brown woods to the basso +growl of the big, black guns far down the +river.</p> + +<p>A sad, sad song it was; yet on its echoes +seemed to ride a haunting, hopeful memory +of the rebel's broken call, "Some day it will +all be over!"</p> + +<p>And so the guns growled on, slow, sullen, +thundering forth the battle-call of a still unconquered +enmity; but only that peace might +walk "some day" in the path of the shrieking +shells.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VII" id="CHAPTER_VII"></a>CHAPTER VII</h2> + + +<p>It was afternoon and over on the eastern side +of the James where the old Turnpike leads up +over the rolling hills to Richmond the sun was +pouring down a flood of heat. The 'pike was +ankle deep with dust and the fine, white powder, +churned into floury softness by artillery +and the myriad iron heels of war, had settled +down on roadside bush and tree and vine till +all the sweet green of summer hung its head +under the hot weight and longed for a cooling +shower which would wash it clean.</p> + +<p>In fairer times the Pike had been an active +thoroughfare for the plantations and hundreds +of smaller truck farms which fed the capitol, +but of late months nearly all this traffic had +disappeared. For the days of the Confederacy +were drawing slowly but none the less +surely to a close.</p> + +<p>Inside the breastworks and far flung fortifications +which encompassed Richmond the +flower of the rebel arms, the Army of Northern +Virginia, lay like a rat caught in a trap. +On three sides, north, east and south the Army +of the Potomac under Grant beleaguered the +city while the tireless Sheridan, with that +lately developed arm of the Federals, the cavalry, +raided right and left and struck hard +blows at the crumbling cause where they were +least expected. Yet in this same dark hour +there had been a ray of light. Once the Confederacy +had come within hairbreadth of overwhelming +success, for Early's hard riding +troopers had made a dash for Washington +but a few weeks before and, with the prize +almost in their grasp, had only been turned +back by a great force which the grim, watchful +Grant suddenly threw in between their +guns and the gleaming dome of the nation's +capitol.</p> + +<p>But even this small success was not for long +for when Early, crossing over into the luscious +valley of the Shenandoah, began to scourge +it with his hosts and threaten a raid into Pennsylvania, +Sheridan broke loose from the restriction +of telegraph wires and followed him +to the death and finally broke the back of the +great raid with his mad gallop from Winchester.</p> + +<p>Meanwhile around Richmond, Lee and +Grant, a circle within a circle, were constantly +feeling each other out, shifting their troops +from point to point in attack and defense,—for +all the world like two fighting dogs hunting +for an opening in the fence. And all the +time the grim, quiet man in blue kept contracting +his lines around the wonderful tactician +in gray until the whole world came to +know that unless Lee could break through the +gap to the southwest the end of the war was +plainly in sight.</p> + +<p>And so it happened that on this hot July +day the only sign of life on the 'pike was a +small cloud of dust which drifted lazily in the +wake of two people who passed along the road +on foot.</p> + +<p>One of the two was a tired, gaunt man in +a ragged uniform of gray who stared up the +long, hot road ahead of him with eyes in which +there was, in spite of every discouragement +the light of a certain firm resolve.</p> + +<p>The other of the two was a child with bare, +brown legs and tattered gingham dress who +limped painfully along beside the man, her +sunny hair in a tangle half across her pinched +and weary little face.</p> + +<p>At a faint sigh of exhaustion from the child +the man looked down, gathered her up in his +arms and perched her on his shoulder. Then +he plodded on again, a prey to weariness and +hunger. The turning point in Herbert +Cary's life had come. Thanks to a generous +enemy; Virgie and he were now reasonably +sure of food if once they could reach the Confederate +lines but as for himself, with the +woman he had loved asleep forever beneath +the pines, the future could only be an unending, +barren stretch of gray.</p> + +<p>Then, almost as quickly, recollection of his +duty towards her whom he carried in his arms +came to him and he raged at himself for his +moment of selfish discouragement. Spurred +on by the necessity of gaining a point of +safety for his child he began to calculate the +distance yet to be covered and their chances of +gaining friendly lines before encountering +scouting parties of Federals. Behind him, a +few miles south on the other bank of the James +at Light House Point Sheridan was in camp +with two brigades and Cary knew this fast +riding, hard striking cavalryman too well not +to suspect that the country, even in front of +him, was alive with Union men. There was +the pass which Morrison had given him, of +course, but the worth of a pass in war time +often depends more on him who receives it +than on the signature.</p> + +<p>But all those things, even food, would have +to wait for a while because he was consumed +with thirst and must find water before he went +another mile forward.</p> + +<p>A tired sigh from Virgie caught his ear and +he stopped by a stone wall and let her get +down from his shoulder. The child stood up +on the broad, flat stones and then gave a little +cry of pain. She raised one foot up and +nursed it against her dusty, brown leg, meanwhile +clutching her doll closer to her neck.</p> + +<p>"It's all right, honey; be a brave little girl," +her father said consolingly. "There's a +spring along here somewhere and we can look +after that poor little foot. Ah, there it is," +he cried, as he caught sight of a big rock behind +a stone wall with a seepage of water under +it among some trees at one side. "Just sit +still a minute—till I rest—and then we'll have +a look." He leaned back against the wall and +closed his eyes to shut out the dizziness with +which exhaustion and hunger filled his aching +head.</p> + +<p>The child watched him anxiously for a moment +and then put a soft little hand on his +shoulder:</p> + +<p>"Are you <i>so</i> tired, Daddy-man?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, dear," he answered with a faint smile +as he opened his eyes. "I had to catch my +breath, but I'm really all right. Now then, +we'll call in the hospital corps."</p> + +<p>Virgie slipped down and sat on the top of +the wall with her foot in her hand, rocking to +and fro, but bravely saying nothing until her +father's eye caught the look of pain on her +pinched face.</p> + +<p>"Does it hurt you much, dear?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir. It—it hurts like the mischief," +answered Virgie in a small voice. "It keeps +jumping up and down."</p> + +<p>"Little woman, that's too bad," he said with +a consoling pat on the head which seemed to +take most of the pain away. "But after we +bathe it and tie it up it will feel better."</p> + +<p>Kneeling beside the spring he took off his +campaign hat of felt and dipped it full of +clear, cold water.</p> + +<p>"Wow!" cried Virgie suddenly in the interval +and she slapped her leg with a resounding +whack. "There are 'skeeters roun' this place. +One of 'em bit me—an old <i>he</i> one. Jiminy!"</p> + +<p>"Did he?" asked her father, smiling as he +came back with the hat. "Well, honey, there +are much worse things in this world than those +little fellows and if you don't complain any +more than that you're going to be a very happy +lady when you grow up."</p> + +<p>"Like Mamma?" asked the little tot, with a +thoughtful face.</p> + +<p>"Just like Mamma," the man repeated. +"The loveliest—the bravest—and the <i>best</i>." +He wavered a little on his feet and the hat +threatened to slip through his fingers, but his +daughter's great, dark eyes were steady on +his and, curiously enough, he seemed to draw +strength to pull himself together.</p> + +<p>"And now, let's see. We'll have to get the +grime off first. Just dip the little wounded +soldier in."</p> + +<p>"What! My foot in your hat!" protested +Virgie with a little scream. "Oh, you poor +daddy!"</p> + +<p>"Why, that's all right, honey," he laughed, +pleased at her daintiness. "That hat's an old +veteran. He don't mind anything. So—souse +her in.</p> + +<p>"There—easy now—<i>easy</i>" as she threatened +to capsize this curious basin. "Big toe first.</p> + +<p>"Yes, I know it's cold," he laughed as the +water stung the broken skin and made her +twitch involuntarily, "but bathing will do it +good. I just know it feels better already—doesn't +it?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir," answered Virgie meekly, "only—it +jumps up and down harder than ever. But +of course I know it must be getting better."</p> + +<p>"Good! What did I tell you? Now let +Daddy look."</p> + +<p>He lifted her foot up tenderly and examined +it with care. "My, my!" he murmured. +"You poor little soldier. If I hadn't +looked around that time I expect you'd been +willing to walk all the way to Richmond on a +foot that would make a whole regiment +straggle. Just see where you've cut it—right +under the second little piggie. We'll have to +tie it right up and keep the bothersome old +dust from getting in. By morning you'll +hardly feel it."</p> + +<p>With a soldier's readiness he opened his coat +and began to tear a strip from his shirt from +which to make a bandage. But his small +daughter interrupted him with a vigorous +protest.</p> + +<p>"Wait!" she cried, with a face full of alarm +at the willful destruction of his garment. +"Don't do that. Here! You can take it +off my petticoat."</p> + +<p>"<i>That</i> petticoat," her father laughed, with +the first real mirth she had heard for many +weeks. "That poor little petticoat wouldn't +make an arm bandage for Susan Jemima. +Now—up with your hoofie and let's play I'm +a surgeon and you're a brave soldier who has +fought in every battle since we first made the +Yanks skedaddle at Bull Run."</p> + +<p>With the painful foot securely bandaged +the little girl gave herself up to thought, +emerging from her study at last to ask what +was an all-important question.</p> + +<p>"Daddy—"</p> + +<p>"Yes?"</p> + +<p>"Do you reckon, by the time the war is over, +we could call Susan Jemima a vet'ran?"</p> + +<p>"I should say we could," the father agreed +heartily, without the symptom of a smile. +"Hasn't she grown bald in the service? And +hasn't she almost lost an arm—or is it a leg +I see dangling so terribly? I'll tell you what +we'll do! We'll give her an honorable discharge—and +decorate her. How's that?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, fine!" she cried, clapping her hands +with delight at the fantasy. "And we'll get +that Yankee man to write her a pass just like +mine. Do you hear that, Cap'n Susan," she +crooned to the doll, unconscious of the convulsion +of silent amusement beside her. +"When we get to Richmon'—if we ever <i>do</i> +get there—I'm going to make you a uniform!"</p> + +<p>Then she turned to her father with a little +sigh, for the miles seemed very long.</p> + +<p>"How far <i>is</i> it to Richmon', Daddy-man?" +she said.</p> + +<p>"Just about twelve miles," her father answered. +"But they're real old country miles, +I'm sorry to say."</p> + +<p>"Can we get to it to-night?"</p> + +<p>The simple little question made the man's +heart ache. What wouldn't he give for an +hour of Roger once more—or Belle—or +Lightfoot! Anything—even one of the old +plantation mules would do if he could only +perch her up on its back and take her into +Richmond like a lady and not like the daughter +of poor white trash, tramping, poverty +stricken, along a dusty road.</p> + +<p>"No, dear, not to-night," he sighed. "We've +come a long way and we're both tired. So +when it gets dark we'll curl up somewhere in +the nice, sweet woods and take a snooze, just +like camping out. And then—in the morning, +when the old sun comes sneaking up +through the trees, we'll fool him! We won't +wait till he can make it hot, but we'll get right +up with the birds and the squirrels and we'll +just run right along. And by twelve o'clock +we'll be in Richmond—where they have good +things to eat. So there you are—all mapped +out. Only now we'll have a belt supper."</p> + +<p>"A belt supper?" queried the child curiously, +though her face brightened at the +thought of <i>any</i> kind of supper, made out of +belts or any other thing.</p> + +<p>"Um-hum," asseverated her father gravely. +"See—this is the way it's done."</p> + +<p>He cupped his hands and took a draught +from the spring, pretending to chew it as it +went down. "You take a big drink of nice +cold water; then draw up your belt as tight +as you can—and say your prayers."</p> + +<p>To his surprise his small daughter only +sniffed scornfully.</p> + +<p>"Oh, shucks, Daddy! I know a better way +than that. Susan an' me used to do it all +the time while you were away."</p> + +<p>"What did you do?" he asked curiously, for +he had forgotten that more than half the childish +play world is the world of "make believe.'"</p> + +<p>"Why, we—we just '<i>let on</i>,'" she answered, +with simple naïveté. "Sit down an' I'll show +you how."</p> + +<p>He sat down obediently, but not before he +had picked up an old tin can from nearby +and set it carefully between them.</p> + +<p>"This rock is our table—the moss is the +table cloth. Oh, it isn't green," she cried as +he looked down in serious doubt. "You +must <i>help</i> me make believe. Now—doesn't it +look nice and white?"</p> + +<p>"It does, indeed. I can see nothing but +snowy linen of the finest texture," he responded +instantly.</p> + +<p>"That's better," complimented his hostess. +And then with a grand air—</p> + +<p>"I'm so glad you dropped in, sir—an' just +at supper time. Pass your plate an' allow +me to help you to some batter bread."</p> + +<p>"Batter bread! Ah, just what I was +hoping for," her guest replied, thankfully extending +his plate for the imaginary feast.</p> + +<p>"Thank you. Delicious. The very best I've +tasted for a year. Did you make it yourself?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, dear, no—the cook."</p> + +<p>"Ah, of course! Pray pardon me, I +might have known."</p> + +<p>The little hostess inclined her head. "Take +plenty of butter. 'Cause batter bread isn't +good 'thout butter."</p> + +<p>"Thank you—what lovely golden butter. +And—goodness gracious! What is this I +see before me? Can this really be a sausage?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir," laughed Virgie with delight. +"And there's the ham. I smoked it myself +over hick'ry wood. Please help yourself."</p> + +<p>She pretended to arrange a cup and saucer +in front of her and held daintily in her fingers +a pair of imaginary sugar tongs.</p> + +<p>"Coffee? How many lumps? And <i>do</i> +you take cream?"</p> + +<p>"Five, please—and a little cream. There—just +right."</p> + +<p>She passed the cup gracefully and added +a little moue of concern for the efficiency of +her ménage.</p> + +<p>"I'm afraid you won't find it very hot," said +this surprising young hostess. "That butler +of mine is growing absolutely <i>wuthless</i>."</p> + +<p>"Then perhaps we can have something better," +her guest responded readily, and he +picked up the battered old tin can. "Permit +me, Miss Cary, to offer you a glass of fine old +blackberry wine which I carefully brought +with me to your beautiful home. It has been +in my family wine cellars since 1838.</p> + +<p>"Well—" he cried, as Virgie suddenly sat +back with a look of painful recollection on her +face.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Daddy," she murmured pathetically, +"<i>don't</i> let's call it <i>blackberry</i> wine."</p> + +<p>"Forgive me, darling," her father said tenderly, +and he took the small face between his +hands and kissed her. "There, now—it's all +right. It's <i>all right</i>."</p> + +<p>To create a diversion he looked behind him +with a frown and spoke with great severity to +an imaginary waiter.</p> + +<p>"Here, <i>Jo</i>! How dare you bring such terribly +reminiscent stuff to our table. Go get the +port.</p> + +<p>"We'll surely have to discharge that butler," +he said. "He's too shiftless. And now, fair +lady, will you honor me by joining the humblest +of your admirers in a sip of port."</p> + +<p>"With pleasure," answered his hostess, and +lifted the can of water in both hands. "Your +health, sir. May your shadow never grow +littler."</p> + +<p>Half way through her drink Virgie stopped +and slowly put the can down. She looked at +her father, who already had his finger at his +lips. Voices had come to them from down +the road—the sounds of a party of men talking +and laughing as they marched along.</p> + +<p>Cary's face took on again the grim lines +which had been wiped away momentarily by +their little bit of play. He was trying to +make himself believe that the approaching +party might be friends, although he knew +only too well that such a possibility was full +of doubt. There were too many scouting +parties of Federals ready to pounce on Rebel +patrols in these perilous days to allow any but +large forces of men to venture far from +Richmond, and when his own men sallied +forth they did not go with laughter but with +tightly drawn, silent lips.</p> + +<p>"S-s-s-h," he whispered, and held up his +finger again, as she seemed ready to burst into +questioning.</p> + +<p>Immediately she snuggled close to him and +whispered hotly in his ear, "Who are they, +Daddy?"</p> + +<p>"I don't know, honey," he whispered back. +"But I'm afraid they're Yanks. Keep quiet +till they pass." And quickly deserting the +stone under the trees where they had had their +"belt supper" he drew her with him behind +the large ledge of rock from under which the +spring flowed out. Looking behind them he +saw that with good luck they could reach the +shelter of the woods and get up over the hill +without being seen. But just now they could +not stir from their hiding place unless—unless +the men were Confederates. This faint hope, +however, soon flickered out when he saw the +color of their uniforms.</p> + +<p>Up the road came four dismounted men +with a corporal in command. They were +taking it easy as they walked along, their caps +thrust back, their coats open and their Sharps' +carbines carried in the variety of ways that a +soldier adopts to ease his shoulder of the burden +that grows heavier with every mile.</p> + +<p>"Here's the place, boys," the Corporal +called out as his eye fell on the spring. "We +can get some decent water, now. That James +River water's too yellow for any white man +to put inside of him."</p> + +<p>At the sound of a voice which he had heard +that same morning while he hid in the attic +of the overseer's cabin Cary's hold on his +daughter's hand tightened warningly.</p> + +<p>"Come along, Virgie," he whispered. +"We'll get out of the way."</p> + +<p>"But, Daddy," she protested in low tones, +"we've got our pass."</p> + +<p>"Yes, yes, I know," he answered, with a +twinge of regret that the rest of the world +could not trust so faithfully to human kindness. +"But that's for emergency. Come +along, honey—quick!"</p> + +<p>Silently as a shadow the two stole out of +the shelter of the ledge of rock, and by dint of +keeping it between them and the troopers, +managed to cover most of the open space between +the spring and the protecting trees without +being seen. Meanwhile, they heard the +Corporal giving his commands.</p> + +<p>"You, Collins, take sentry duty out there in +the road for a while. As soon as we make the +coffee we'll bring you out a cup. Now—over +the wall with you, men."</p> + +<p>Leaving one man behind to pace slowly up +and down the dusty road the four sprang over +the wall and advanced towards the spring. It +was well the sight of the cool water held their +eyes for if they had only looked up they +might have seen Virgie wresting her hand out +of her father's grasp and standing suddenly +petrified with the thought that she had left behind +her one beloved possession.</p> + +<p>"Here's the spring, Smith—under the rock. +Fill up the canteens. Here, Harry, help me +get fire wood."</p> + +<p>With a soldier's readiness when it comes to +making camp one of the troopers promptly +collected the canteens and knelt down by the +spring, carefully submerging one at a time so +as to get the sweet, cold water in all its purity. +Another opened the knapsacks and took out a +can of coffee, biscuits and some scraps of meat—not +much with which to make a meal but still +so much more than many a Rebel soldier had +that day as to take on the proportions of a +feast. Meanwhile, Corporal Dudley had +drawn his saber and was engaged in leisurely +lopping off the dead branches of a fallen tree.</p> + +<p>"This strikes me a lot better than the camp," +he remarked as he tossed his firewood into a +heap. "A man and his friends can have a +quiet drink here, without treating a whole +battalion."</p> + +<p>His eye fell on the ground near the spring +as he spoke and he paused. Then, with a grin +on his face, he jabbed his saber into something +which lay there and held it transfixed on the +point.</p> + +<p>"Say, boys—look at this," and he shook +poor Susan Jemima till her arms and legs +wiggled spasmodically and her dress seemed +on the point of complete disintegration.</p> + +<p>Perhaps, if Corporal Dudley had not +laughed derisively Virgie might have stayed +hidden in the protection of the trees, but this +outrageous insult combined with the terrible +sight of poor Susan Jemima impaled on a +Yankee sword was too much for her bursting +heart. With blazing eyes she broke away +from her father and dashed back to the group +at the spring.</p> + +<p>"Here, you! You stop that," she cried +angrily at the astonished troopers, who caught +up their carbines at the sound of feet. "<i>How +dare you!</i>"</p> + +<p>There was a moment of surprise and then +the four broke out in guffaws of laughter.</p> + +<p>"Well, hang me if it isn't the little girl we +saw this morning," shouted Dudley, without, +however, stopping the torture of the defenseless +Susan Jemima. "Where did <i>you</i> drop from?"</p> + +<p>"Ne'm min' where I dropped from," commanded +the wrathful Virgie with her dark +eyes like twin stars of hate. "You're the +meanest old thing I ever saw. <i>Give me back +my baby!</i>"</p> + +<p>Back in the trees a little way a man was +watching with a heavy heart. He knew only +too well what was to come. No matter what +the final outcome might be when he showed +his safe-guard to his own army's lines there +would be a delay and searching questions and +more of the old insults which always made his +blood boil—which always made the increasing +burden of despair still harder to bear. But +there was no use in putting off the trial—Virgie +had slipped away in spite of every +whispered remonstrance and now that she was +there in the center of that group of guffawing +Yankees, there, too, was the only place for +him. And so, he stepped out swiftly and +faced the enemy.</p> + +<p>"Hah!" shouted Dudley, looking up at the +sound of branches crackling underfoot. "A +Johnnie Reb, eh—walking right into camp! +That's right, Harry, keep him covered."</p> + +<p>He looked Cary over from head to foot with +a sneer at his tattered uniform.</p> + +<p>"Well, sir," he asked, "who are you?"</p> + +<p>"A Confederate officer," was the quiet reply, +"acting as escort for this child. We are +on our way to Richmond."</p> + +<p>Cary's hand went into the breast of his coat +and he drew out a folded paper.</p> + +<p>"Here is my authority for entering your +lines—a pass signed by Lieutenant-Colonel +Morrison."</p> + +<p>At the sound of the name Corporal Dudley +started and quickly took the paper. But before +he opened it he gave Cary a keen look +which, to the Confederate officer, did not bode +well for the prospect of immediate release. It +seemed as if the man's sharp wits had suddenly +seized on something which he could profitably +turn to his own account.</p> + +<p>With his back turned on Cary and Virgie +the Corporal unfolded the pass and studied it +carefully, while the troopers gathered behind +him and tried to read its contents over his +shoulder.</p> + +<p>"Pwhat does it say?" asked the young Irishman, +Harry O'Connell, who had covered Cary +with his carbine. "'Tis a precious bit of paper, +bedad—if it passes him through <i>me</i>."</p> + +<p>"It says: 'Pass Virginia Cary and escort +through all Federal lines, and assist them as +far as possible in reaching Richmond,'" read +the Corporal.</p> + +<p>Deep in thought he turned the paper over +and studied the name on the back. At the +sight of the signature there his mouth fell +open and he uttered a shout of surprise. His +eyes brightened and he stepped back from the +group and threw up his head with a look of +triumph on his dark face. He struck the paper +a slap with the back of his hand.</p> + +<p>"Morrison on <i>one</i> side—and 'Old Bob' on +the <i>other</i>" he exclaimed. "What luck! What +a <i>find</i>."</p> + +<p>"How so—a find?"</p> + +<p>The man who had had to put his own brother +under arrest a few short weeks before and then +had seen him shot through the heart by this +same officer whose name was on the pass +looked at the questioner with an ugly glitter +in his eyes. He was beginning to taste already +the sweets of revenge. For blood ties +bind, no matter how badly they are stretched, +and long ago Corporal Dudley had sworn to +wipe out his grudge.</p> + +<p>"Why, man, can't you see?" he whispered +excitedly. "This Johnnie Reb is the man that +was hiding in the cabin loft this morning. +Morrison lied when he said he wasn't there—you +remember, he was the only one who +looked—he lied and as soon as he got us out of +the way he let him come down and he gave +him <i>this</i>. Could any man ask for better proof +that we had the spy right in our hands and +then our commanding officer deliberately let +him go?"</p> + +<p>At the sound of the man's excited whispering +Cary's fears as to the value of Virgie's +pass grew too strong to warrant this agony +of watching and waiting, and he stepped forward +with a sharp question:</p> + +<p>"Well, Corporal, isn't the pass satisfactory?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, perfectly—perfectly," Dudley answered +with baleful readiness, but made no +move to return it.</p> + +<p>Cary put out his hand. "Then I would like +to have it again, if you please."</p> + +<p>By way of answer Corporal Dudley carefully +found an inside pocket and buttoned the +pass up in his coat. "Oh, no, you don't," he +said, with an evil grin. "I've got a better use +for that little piece of paper."</p> + +<p>"What do you mean?"</p> + +<p>"I mean that you're my prisoner, Mister +Johnnie Reb," was the brutal answer.</p> + +<p>"For what?" asked Cary, while his heart +grew sick inside him and his lips twitched. +Richmond—and food for Virgie were growing +farther away every moment.</p> + +<p>"Because you're a Rebel <i>spy</i>, that's why," +came the biting answer.</p> + +<p>"Oh—none of that," as Cary's fists doubled +up and he made a forward step at the Corporal. +"I guess you know what's good for +you, with three guns at your back. If Colonel +Morrison wouldn't take you as a spy, <i>I +will!</i>"</p> + +<p>"Here, boys," he said in brusque command +to his men, "we'll have to cut the supper and +take this man to camp. There'll be a sunrise +hanging to-morrow or I miss my guess. +Come on, now. Bring him along."</p> + +<p>"Wait a minute, Corporal," O'Connell +said. "Sure I've something to say to ye," and +he led him aside where the others could not +bear.</p> + +<p>All unconscious of the fatal predicament +into which Susan Jemima and she had got +them Virgie looked up at her father from +where she stood in the shelter of his arm.</p> + +<p>"Daddy," she questioned, in a small, puzzled +voice, "what are they going to do?"</p> + +<p>"S-s-s-h," her father commanded as he +patted her head comfortingly. "Everything +will be all right, honey, I'm sure." But he +had caught enough of the Corporal's altercation +with Trooper O'Connell to make him see +that things were very far from being what he +wanted Virgie to suppose.</p> + +<p>"Ye'd better be careful now," O'Connell +said to Dudley. "Ye know well that if the +pass is all right ye'll be getting yerself into a +peck o' trouble."</p> + +<p>"It isn't <i>me</i> that'll get in trouble," Dudley +answered, with grim triumph. "It's someone +else."</p> + +<p>"Faith, then, <i>who</i>?" was the query.</p> + +<p>"<i>Morrison</i>," snapped Dudley, with an +ominous click of his teeth.</p> + +<p>"The Colonel? Why?"</p> + +<p>"<i>Because he helped this spy escape!</i> that's +why. He killed my brother, shot him. Shot +him down like a dog. But now I'm even with +him."</p> + +<p>He shook the pass under the trooper's nose +and crowed with satisfaction.</p> + +<p>"I've been waiting for a chance like this," he +chortled, "and now I'm going to make him +sweat—sweat blood."</p> + +<p>"Don't be a fool, Corporal," the trooper +counseled. "What'll ye be after doin'?"</p> + +<p>"<i>Report him, at headquarters</i>—for helping +a spy escape! If I have the man and <i>this</i>," +and he slapped the paper, "it'll mean his sword +and shoulder straps—if not a bullet! Come +on!"</p> + +<p>He turned away, to scramble over the wall, +but Trooper O'Connell caught his arm.</p> + +<p>"Hold on! Ye may get in trouble."</p> + +<p>In answer Dudley broke away and doggedly +kept on towards the stone wall and the +road. "Keep off," he snarled. "<i>I'm</i> running +this."</p> + +<p>"I know ye are," the trooper replied, "but +wait," and he pointed to the rear. "Don't +forgit that the Colonel's out yonder reconnoiterin'. +If he happened to overtake ye on +the road—"</p> + +<p>Struck with the sudden thought Dudley +paused. "Well, that's so," he growled as he +saw how easily he could be held for disobeying +orders and how quickly all his plans for +vengeance could be smashed. He stood still +for a moment gnawing his lip, then suddenly +struck his doubled fist into the palm of the +other hand.</p> + +<p>"Then you stay here to guard the prisoner," +he said. "I'll cut through the woods—make +my report—come back with the horses—and +my authority."</p> + +<p>"Here, Smith! You and Judson come +along with me. Never mind the grub. We'll +get that later."</p> + +<p>Turning to O'Connell, "If you hear anyone +coming, take those two into the woods. Collins! +You'll have to stay on sentry duty till +I get back. If any troops pass here, get out +of sight at once and give Harry warning. +Now, boys—come along with me—we'll take +it on the trot," and climbing quickly over the +wall the man who held two lives in the hollow +of his hand ran down the road with the two +troopers, finally cutting over into the woods +and disappearing from view.</p> + +<p>Gary and Virgie stood still by the spring. +Out in the road the sentry paced back and +forth. Behind them Trooper O'Connell stood +on guard, his carbine in his arms across his +breast.</p> + +<p>Virgie pulled gently at her father's hand.</p> + +<p>"Daddy," she whispered, "are they—are +they goin' to carry us off to the Yankee +camp?"</p> + +<p>"I'm afraid so, darling, but I don't know," +he answered sadly. "We'll just have to wait. +Wait," he repeated, as he sat down on a rock +and drew her close to him. Without being +seen either by Virgie or O'Connell he picked +up a jagged stone the size of his fist and hid +it under his knee against the rock. It would +be a poor weapon at best, but Cary had grown +desperate and if the trooper once turned his +back and gave him opportunity poor Harry +O'Connell would wake up with a very bad +headache and Virgie would be in Richmond.</p> + +<p>But Virgie's eyes were on neither the hidden +stone nor her father's watchful, relentless face. +All that Virgie could see was a knapsack open +on the ground and food—real food displayed +round about with a prodigality which made +her mouth water and her eyes as big as saucers.</p> + +<p>"Daddy," she murmured, clutching at his +sleeve, "while we are waitin' do you reckon we +could take just a <i>little</i> bit of that?"</p> + +<p>"No, dear—not now," her father answered, +with a touch of impatience. It would be too +much, even in those bitter times, to accept a +man's food and then break his head for it.</p> + +<p>"Well," said Virgie, completely mystified +at the restraint, "I don't see why they +shouldn't be polite to us. We were just as +polite as could be when the Yankees took our +corn."</p> + +<p>Just then the young Irishman with the carbine +turned around and caught the wan look +on Virgie's face and the hunger appeal in her +big dark eyes. At once a broad smile broke +over his freckled countenance and he gestured +hospitably with his gun.</p> + +<p>"Have somethin' to eat, little wan."</p> + +<p>Cary's knee loosened. The jagged stone +fell to the ground.</p> + +<p>"Thank you, old fellow," he cried, springing +to his feet. "I can't show my gratitude to +you in any substantial way at present—but +God bless you, just the same." He dropped +down on the rock again and hid his face in his +hands. Another moment and the kindhearted +trooper might have been lying face downwards +in the muddy ground around the spring. +It had been only touch-and-go, but the man's +warm Irish heart had saved him.</p> + +<p>"Oh, that's all right, sir," O'Connell answered +freely. "Sure an' <i>I'd</i> like to see ye +get through, though I ain't the Gineral. At +least, not yet," he grinned.</p> + +<p>"There ye are, little girl," he went on, pushing +the knapsack over towards Virgie with the +muzzle of his carbine. "Jist help yerself—an' +give yer dad some, too."</p> + +<p>With a little cry of delight Virgie swooped +down on the knapsack and explored its interior +with eager hands.</p> + +<p>"I'm much obliged, Mr. Yankee. We +cert'ny do need it—bad." She tossed the +tangled hair back from her eyes and looked +thankfully up at this curious person who had +so much food that he could really give part of +it away. "Please, Mr. Yankee—won't you +tell me your name?"</p> + +<p>"Harry O'Connell, at your service, miss."</p> + +<p>"Thank you," she bowed. "I'm very glad +to meet you." Then her searching hands +found something wonderful in the knapsack +and she sprang up and ran with her prizes to +her father.</p> + +<p>"Look, Daddy—<i>two biscuits!</i> Take one. +It's—it's <i>real</i>!"</p> + +<p>Cary's eyes grew moist.</p> + +<p>"Thank you, darling. Thank you." Just +now the lump in his throat would not have allowed +him to eat soup, let alone a rather hard +biscuit, but he looked up with a laugh and +waved a genial salute to the trooper, who as +genially responded.</p> + +<p>Virgie, however, had become quite single +minded since she had discovered food, and +with a happy sigh she raised the biscuit to her +lips. Just then the sentry in the road flung +up his hand with a shout.</p> + +<p>"Look out, O'Connell! They're coming," +and he clambered quickly over the wall and +dropped behind it, his gun in readiness.</p> + +<p>"What is it?" demanded the other trooper.</p> + +<p>"Detachment of cavalry. A small one."</p> + +<p>"But whose is it, man. Can ye not see?"</p> + +<p>Collins, holding his hand behind him in a +gesture which commanded them to stay where +they were, raised his head cautiously over the +wall.</p> + +<p>"Morrison's," he answered, after a quick +look, and he dropped down again out of sight.</p> + +<p>At the sound of hoof beats and the name +she remembered so well Virgie, with her biscuit +all untasted, sprang up from the ground as if +she would run out on the road. But her +father caught her, for O'Connell had turned to +them with a serious face.</p> + +<p>"I'm sorry, sir, but I'll have to trouble ye +to get under cover in the woods. No argymint, +sir," he said decisively, as he saw some +show of resistance on Cary's part. "I'm under +orders."</p> + +<p>"Yes, yes, I know," Cary cried, impatiently, +"but I want to speak to Colonel Morrison. +I <i>must</i> speak to him. Give me a moment, +man. You won't ever regret it."</p> + +<p>"Come now—none o' that," commanded the +trooper, pushing him back with the carbine +across his breast. "Don't make me use force, +sir. Ye'll have to go—so go quietly. And +mind—no shenanigan!"</p> + +<p>Cary stood his ground for a moment, meeting +the trooper eye to eye—then turned with +hanging head and walked a few steps back +into the woods.</p> + +<p>"Come, Virgie," he said, "I guess we won't +get to see Colonel Morrison after all."</p> + +<p>But Virgie, being a woman, had her own +ideas about what she would or would not do. +At the same moment that the trooper was +forcing her father step by step back into the +woods, Virgie was running madly towards the +stone wall and before either of the soldiers +could stop her she had clambered up on its +broad top and was calling out to a man who +clattered by at the head of a troop of cavalry.</p> + +<p>"Colonel Morrison! Colonel Morrison!"</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VIII" id="CHAPTER_VIII"></a>CHAPTER VIII</h2> + + +<p>"Halt!"</p> + +<p>At the sound of that piping, childish treble +calling his name in so unexpected a place the +officer at the head of the troop threw up his +gauntleted hand and brought the detachment +to a standstill in a cloud of dust.</p> + +<p>"Hello, there," he said, turning curiously +around in his saddle. "Who is it wants me?"</p> + +<p>"It's <i>me</i>, Virgie!" the child cried, leaping up +and down on the wall, all forgetful of her sore +foot. "Come help Daddy and me—come +quick!"</p> + +<p>"Well—what on earth—"</p> + +<p>Morrison threw out a command to his men +and, wheeling his horse, spurred vigorously up +to the wall where he dismounted and came up +to take a closer view of the tangle haired little +person dancing on one foot.</p> + +<p>"Why—bless my soul if it isn't Virgie!" +His arms opened to take her in when, suddenly, +his eye fell on O'Connell, standing at +attention on the other side of the wall.</p> + +<p>"O'Connell," he said, sternly, "what is the +meaning of this? Why aren't you with your +detachment?"</p> + +<p>"It isn't <i>his</i> fault," Virgie interposed in +stout defense of the nice Yankee who carried +biscuits in his knapsack. "He's under orders."</p> + +<p>The glib use of the military term made a +smile flicker across Morrison's face, but his +eyes did not leave the troubled trooper.</p> + +<p>"<i>Whose</i> orders?" he demanded.</p> + +<p>"Corporal Dudley, sir," was the stammering +answer.</p> + +<p>At this moment Cary stepped forward and +the two officers exchanged nods of recognition.</p> + +<p>"Let me explain," the Confederate said. +"Virgie and I were making for Richmond as +rapidly as we could. Here, by this spring, +we were put under arrest by a corporal and +four troopers. Naturally, I presented your +pass, but the corporal refused to honor it. +He then left me under guard and hurried off +to headquarters with the pass in his possession."</p> + +<p>At this unwelcome news Morrison's head +jerked back as if he had been struck and his +lips tightened. Without the addition of another +word to Cary's story he saw all the dire +consequences to himself of what had been an +act of the commonest humanity. Yes, in +other times it would have been what any right +thinking human being would have done for +another in distress, but, unhappily, this was +war time and the best of motives were only +too often mis-read. In his mind's eye he saw +the vindictive Dudley, eager for a revenge +which he could not encompass any other way, +laying the proof of this act before his superiors +with an abundance of collateral evidence which, +he knew, would condemn him before any +military tribunal in the world. It mattered +not what kindly impulses had guided his hand +when he wrote the safeguard on the other side +of the paper on which Robert E. Lee had +previously placed his name, for it is not the +custom of courts martial to weigh the milk of +human kindness against the blood and iron of +war. The good and the safety of the greater +number demand the sacrifice of every man +who would imperil the cause by ill considered +generosity. Morrison could see that very +presently he would have to answer certain +stern questions.</p> + +<p>Yet, there was a chance still that Dudley +might be headed off and this whole miserable +business stopped before revenge could set the +inexorable wheels in motion and he whirled +round on O'Connell with a sharp question:</p> + +<p>"Which way did Dudley go?"</p> + +<p>"Down the pike, then over the hill by the +wood road, sor—makin' for headquarters," the +young Irishman answered, only too glad of a +chance to help his officer out of what, he saw, +was a frightful situation.</p> + +<p>"How long ago?" came back the instant +query.</p> + +<p>"Five minutes, sor. Ye cud catch him wid +a horse."</p> + +<p>"Ah," exclaimed Morrison, and he threw up +his hand to his men. "Lieutenant Harris," +he shouted. "Take a squad and ride to camp +by the wood road. Overtake Corporal Dudley +or intercept him at headquarters. Don't fail! +Get him and bring him here!"</p> + +<p>Lieutenant Harris's hand went up to his +hat in ready salute and he bellowed out his +orders.</p> + +<p>"Jennings! Hewlett! Brown! Hammond! +Burt! 'Bout face. Forward!" Almost before +the words were out of his mouth Harris +and his men were riding madly down the road +in a chase, which the Lieutenant suspected, +meant something more to his colonel, than +merely the recovery of a safe-conduct for a +Confederate officer and a little girl.</p> + +<p>Morrison turned to Trooper O'Connell and +jerked his thumb towards the road.</p> + +<p>"Report at my quarters this evening—at +nine," he said curtly. And the young Irishman, +thankful to be well out of the mess, +quickly clambered over the wall and disappeared +though not without a soft voiced farewell +from Virgie.</p> + +<p>"Good-by, Mr. Knapsack Man," called the +child. "Thank you for the biscuits."</p> + +<p>Then Cary came forward and gripped the +other's hand.</p> + +<p>"Colonel," he said earnestly, with full appreciation +of what was passing through Morrison's +mind, "I hope no trouble will come of +this. If I had only known the vindictiveness +of this man—"</p> + +<p>He was interrupted by a genially objecting +hand and a laugh which Morrison was +somehow able to make lighthearted.</p> + +<p>"Oh, that will be all right. Harris will get +him—never fear."</p> + +<p>"And so," he said, addressing Miss Virginia, +"that bad man took your pass?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir. He did," Virgie answered, and +caught his hand in hers. "He ran right away +with it—mean old thing."</p> + +<p>"Well, then—we'll have to write you out +another one. A nice, clean, white one this +time. Come on, little sweetheart. We'll do +it together," and he took out a note book and +pencil.</p> + +<p>"I say, Morrison," Cary murmured, glancing +apprehensively at the troopers idling in the +road and very plainly interested in what the +small group were doing, "do you really +think you'd better—on your own account?"</p> + +<p>Again Morrison's hand was raised in polite +objection. He had taken a sporting chance +when he wrote the pass which had been stolen +but because he had probably lost was no reason +why he shouldn't play the game out bravely +to the end. So he only smiled at Virgie, who +came and sat beside him, and began to write +the few short sentences of his second safe-conduct. +But while he wrote he was talking in +low tones which the troopers in the road could +not hear.</p> + +<p>"There's a line of your pickets about three +miles up the road, Cary," said he. "If I +loaned you a horse, do you think Virgie could +ride behind you?"</p> + +<p>"<i>Me?</i>" pouted Virgie. "Why, Daddy says +that when I was bornded, I came ridin' in on +a stork."</p> + +<p>Morrison burst out laughing and dropped +his hand down on the small paw resting on +his knee.</p> + +<p>"Then, by St. George and the Dragon +we'll send you home to Jefferson Davis on a +snorting Pegasus!"</p> + +<p>Again Cary spoke to him in warning tones, +which at the same time thanked him unendingly +for the kindly thought.</p> + +<p>"You needn't trouble about the mount. +Why, man," he said huskily, "you're in +trouble enough, as it is! And if our lines are +as close as you say they are—"</p> + +<p>Once more the Union officer checked him.</p> + +<p>"It isn't any trouble. Only—you'll have +to be careful of your approach, even to your +own lines. Those gray devils in the rifle pits +up there have formed the habit of shooting +<i>first</i> and asking questions <i>afterwards</i>. There +you are," and he tore the leaf from his note +book and handed it up with a faint smile.</p> + +<p>The Southerner took it with a reluctant +hand.</p> + +<p>"I—I wish I could thank you—Morrison," +he said in tones that shook with feeling, +"but you see I—I—"</p> + +<p>"Then please don't try. Because if you do +I'll—I'll have to hold Virgie as a prisoner of +war.</p> + +<p>"Well, young one," he said to the small Miss +Cary with a laugh, "did you really get something +to eat?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir. That is—we <i>almost</i> did."</p> + +<p>"<i>Almost?</i>" he echoed.</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir," came the plaintive answer. +"Eve'y time we start to eat—somethin' <i>always</i> +happens!"</p> + +<p>"Well, well, that <i>is</i> hard luck," he said with +a gentle squeeze of her frail body. "But I'll +bet you it won't happen this time; not if a +whole regiment tries to stop it."</p> + +<p>"Come on," he suggested as he sprang to +his feet and began picking up dry twigs. +"You can start in and munch on those heavenly +biscuits while this terrible Yankee builds the +fire." Cary made a move as if to help; but +Morrison checked him.</p> + +<p>"Oh, no, Cary, just you keep on sitting +still. This is no work for you. You're tired +out.</p> + +<p>"Here, Virgie, I know you want to get me +some water from the spring. Please pick out +the cleanest pieces of water you can and put +them carefully in the coffee pot. All right. +There you are. <i>'Tention!</i> Carr-ee coffee +pot! Right wheel! <i>March!</i>"</p> + +<p>With a carefree laugh he turned away to +light the little heap of twigs he had placed between +two flat stones. "It's mighty considerate +of my boys to leave us all these things. +We'll call it the raid of Black Gum Spring.</p> + +<p>"And here comes the little lady with the +coffee pot filled just right. Now watch me +pour in the good old coffee—<i>real</i> coffee, +Virgie dear—not made from aco'ns." He +settled the pot on the fire and sat back with a +grin. "Oh, oh! Don't watch it," he cried, +in well feigned alarm as Virgie, unwilling +to believe the sight, stooped over to feast +her eyes on the rich brown powder sinking +into the black gulf of the pot. "If you do +that it will never, <i>never</i> boil!"</p> + +<p>"All right," the child agreed pathetically, +and she sank wearily down against her father's +knee. "I'll just pray for it to hurry +up."</p> + +<p>The two men exchanged quiet smiles and +Cary murmured something in his daughter's +ear.</p> + +<p>"Oh, no, I won't," she answered, and then +looked up at Morrison with a roguish light in +her dark eyes. "He's only afraid I'll pray +so terribly hard that the old coffee pot will +boil over an' put out the fire."</p> + +<p>Morrison, chuckling, now began to drag +something out of a rear pocket. Presently, +he uncorked it and held it up—a <i>flask</i>!</p> + +<p>"Here, Cary," he said, holding out a cup. +"Join me, won't you? Of course, you understand—in +case a snake should bite us."</p> + +<p>"Colonel Morrison," responded the Southerner, +"you are certainly a man of ideas."</p> + +<p>He waited for his foe to fill his own cup, +then raised his in a toast:</p> + +<p>"I drink to the health, sir, of you and yours. +Here's hoping that some day I may take <i>you</i> +prisoner!"</p> + +<p>At the quizzical look of surprise in the +other's face Cary's voice almost broke.</p> + +<p>"I mean, sir, it's the only way I could ever +hope to show you how much I appreciate—"</p> + +<p>He stopped and covered his face with his +hands, not a little to his daughter's alarm.</p> + +<p>"Come, come, old chap," the Northerner +said bluffly, tapping him on the shoulder. +"Brace up. It's the fortunes of war, you +know. One side or the other is bound to win. +Perhaps—who knows—it may be <i>your</i> turn +to-morrow. Well, sir—here goes. May it +soon be over—in the way that's best and wisest +for us all.</p> + +<p>"Now, Virgie," he went on, when the toast +had been drunk, "while I wash these cups suppose +you go on another voyage of discovery +through the magic knapsack for some sugar +for the coffee."</p> + +<p>He watched her fling herself impetuously +on the knapsack. "If you find any Yankee +spoons—put them under arrest. They haven't +any pass like yours."</p> + +<p>Then he turned to Cary: "Have any trouble +on the road as you came along?"</p> + +<p>The other man shook his head.</p> + +<p>"None to speak of. We were stopped several +times of course, but each time your pass +let us through without delay—until we met +Dudley. And now I'm worried, Colonel," he +said frankly, while his eyes tried to tell the +other all that he feared without putting it in +words, "worried on your account. It's easy +to see that the man has a grudge against +you—"</p> + +<p>"Yes, I'm afraid he has," was the thoughtful +reply. "But really, Cary, you mustn't try +to carry any more burdens than your own, just +now. I know what you mean and what, I +daresay, you'd be only too willing to do, but +I can't permit it."</p> + +<p>They were interrupted by the spectacle of +Virgie standing before them with anxiously +furrowed brow, a paper bag in one hand and +three spoons clutched in the other.</p> + +<p>"But Colonel Morrison," she was saying in +tragic tones, "there isn't a drop of milk."</p> + +<p>"Milk!" he cried in mock despair. "Well, +dash my buttons if I didn't forget to order a +cow."</p> + +<p>"Oh, <i>I</i> know what to do," cried the child. +Dropping her supplies and utensils she ran to +the wall and climbed up.</p> + +<p>"Hey, there, <i>you</i>" commanded the small +general with an imperious gesture to the assembled +troopers. "One of you men ride +right over to camp and bring us back some +milk—an' butter."</p> + +<p>At this abrupt demand of so small a rebel +on the commissary of the United States a roar +of laughter went up from the troopers, though +some of them had the grace to salute and so +relieve the child of embarrassment.</p> + +<p>"Virgie! Virgie!" called her father, scandalized.</p> + +<p>"It's all right, Cary," Morrison laughed. +"She's only starting in at giving orders a little +earlier than most women.</p> + +<p>"Never you mind, Miss Brigadier," he comforted. +"We'll have all those luxuries next +time, or when I come to see you in Richmond +after the war is over. Just now we'll do the +best we can. Come along."</p> + +<p>Virgie got down from the wall and pattered +up to the fire.</p> + +<p>"Is it ready yet?" she asked with the perfect +directness of seven years.</p> + +<p>"In a minute now. Ah-hah! There she +goes."</p> + +<p>He took the pot from the fire and set it +down on a rock where, presently, he brought a +cupful of cold water to pour in.</p> + +<p>"Is that to settle it?" she asked of her +father.</p> + +<p>"Yes, child—and I wish all our questions +were as easily cleared up. And now—to the +attack."</p> + +<p>"Right-o. Virgie—pass the beautiful, +hand painted china and let's fill up. This one +for your daddy—you can put the sugar in. +Only don't burn those precious fingers."</p> + +<p>Virgie carried the steaming cup to her +father and put it in his hands with shining +eyes.</p> + +<p>"This is better than our old belt supper, +Daddy, isn't it?" she said, with a flirt of her +tangled curls. "Anyway—it <i>smells</i> nicer."</p> + +<p>She was back at the sugar bag at once, digging +out spoonfuls for Morrison's coffee.</p> + +<p>"Thank you, Miss Cary, I am indeed +obliged to you. Now do sit down and <i>eat</i>. +No, not another word till you've eaten two +whole biscuits!"</p> + +<p>For several ecstatic moments the child +munched her biscuits. It had been a long +time since she had eaten anything so delicious, +although if those same biscuits had appeared +on the Cary table a month ago they would +have probably been scorned. But eager as +her appetite was it did not stop the active +workings of her mind and she presently was +struck by an idea which tried to force itself +out through a mouthful of biscuit—with the +usual amusing results.</p> + +<p>"<i>Virginia!</i>" admonished her father.</p> + +<p>Morrison laughed out like a boy and slapped +his knee.</p> + +<p>"Suppose we swallow—and try again."</p> + +<p>Virgie, thus adjured, concentrated her mind +on the task—gulped, blinked, swallowed with +pathetically straining eyes, and then smiled +triumphantly.</p> + +<p>"Excuse me, Daddy. I guess I wasn't very +polite."</p> + +<p>"Apology accepted. What were you going +to say?"</p> + +<p>The child looked up with a sweetly serious +look in her eyes that the two men recognized +as the forerunner of true womanly thought +for others.</p> + +<p>"I was only goin' to ask the Colonel if he +didn't think his men out there would like some +of these <i>heavingly</i> things to eat?" she said +plaintively. "It must be terrible—jus' to look +on!"</p> + +<p>"Well, bless your little heart," the Northerner +cried. "But don't you worry about the +boys. They'll have theirs when they get back +to camp. Go on and eat, Virgie. Stuff in +another biscuit. And, look! By Jupiter. +<i>Butter!</i>"</p> + +<p>Evidently Trooper O'Connell during the +past twenty-four hours had foraged or blarneyed +most successfully for out of the knapsack +which he had left behind Morrison suddenly +produced a small earthenware jam jar +in which was something now indubitably +liquid in form but none the less sweet, yellow, +appetizing butter. Pouring a little on a biscuit +he held it out to her, speculating on what +she would say.</p> + +<p>The tot took it hungrily and raised it to her +lips, her eyes shining and her face glowing +with anticipation. Then she paused and, with +a little cry of vexation over her selfishness, +held out the biscuit to her father.</p> + +<p>"Here, Daddy," she said. "You take this—because +you tried to bring me somethin' +good to eat yesterday."</p> + +<p>The father threw a look at Morrison and +caught Virgie to him in a swift embrace.</p> + +<p>"No, dear," he said. "Eat your nice buttered +biscuit and thank the good Lord for it. +Your father will get more fun out of seeing +you eat that little bit than he would out of +owning a whole cellar of big stone crocks jam +full. Do you know—I think when we get up +to Richmond you'll have to write a letter to +the Colonel—a nice long letter, thanking +him for all he's done. Won't you?"</p> + +<p>There was a pause for a moment as the child +looked over at Morrison, revolving the thought +in her mind.</p> + +<p>The Union officer had passed into a sudden +reverie, the hand holding his coffee cup hanging +listlessly over his knee. He was thinking +of another little girl, and one as dear to him as +this man's child was to her father. He was +wondering if the fortunes of war would ever +let him see her face again or hear her voice—or +feel her chubby arms around his neck. She +was very, very far away—well cared for, it +was true, but he knew only too well that it +would need but one malignant leaden missile +to make her future life as full of hardships as +those which the little tot beside him was passing +through to-day. So much, at least, for +the ordinary chances of war—he was beginning +to wonder how much had been added to +these perils by the matter of the pass and +whether his superiors would see the situation +as it had appeared to his eyes.</p> + +<p>Into this sad reverie Virgie's soft voice +entered with a gentleness which roused but +did not startle him. When she spoke, it +seemed as if some subtle thought-current between +their minds had put the subject of his +dreams into the child's mind.</p> + +<p>"Do you reckon," the child said, curiously, +"that Gertrude is havin' <i>her</i> supper now?"</p> + +<p>The Union officer looked up with eyes that +mutely blessed her.</p> + +<p>"Yes, dear, I was thinking of her—and +her mother."</p> + +<p>Again he was silent for a space, and when +he spoke, his voice was dreamy, tender, as he +seemed to look with unseeing eyes far into the +Northland where dwelt the people of his heart.</p> + +<p>"Do you know, Cary, this war for us, the +men, may be a hell, but what is it for those we +leave at home? The women! Who wait—and +watch—and too often watch in vain. <i>We</i> +have the excitement of it—the rush—the battles—and +we think that ours is the harder part +when, in reality, we make our loved ones' lives +a deeper, blacker hell than our own. Theirs +to watch and listen with the love hunger in +their hearts, month in, month out and often +without a word! Theirs to starve on the +crusts of hope! Waiting—always waiting! +Hunting the papers for the thing they dread +to find; a name among the missing. A name +among the dead! Good Heaven! When I think +of it sometimes—" Morrison dropped his +head between his clenched fists and groaned.</p> + +<p>"Yes, yes, old fellow, I know," the other +man answered, for in truth he <i>did</i> know, "but +I want you to remember that for you the crusts +of hope will some day be the bread of life—and +love."</p> + +<p>Slowly the Northerner's face came up out +of his hands and he seemed to take heart again. +After all, he had led a charmed life so far—perhaps +the God of Battles had written his +name among those who would some day go +back to live the life for which the Almighty +made them. God grant then that he might +have for his friend this man who, in the time +of his own greater grief, was unselfish enough +to console him. Ah! If God would only +grant that from this day on there would be no +more of this hideous fighting. Morrison's +eyes met the other's and he put out his +hand.</p> + +<p>Suddenly there came the sound of a shot. +Another and another—then a volley, which +almost at once became a continuous rattle of +musketry.</p> + +<p>The Northerner sprang to his feet. "Look! +there go your pickets."</p> + +<p>Struck dumb by this sudden return to the +actualities of life the two men stood motionless, +listening for every sound which might tell +them what it meant. For a little while they +had dreamed the dream of peace only to have +it rudely shattered.</p> + +<p>But Virgie had not followed them in their +dreams, for she was an extremely practical +young lady. Having seen food, real food, +vanish away before her very eyes several times +already she was quite prepared to see it happen +again.</p> + +<p>"There!" she said, in tones in which prophecy +and resignation were oddly mingled. "Didn't +I jus' <i>know</i> somethin' was goin' to happen!"</p> + +<p>By this time Morrison had run to the stone +wall and sprung to its top. Out in the road +the troopers had mounted without waiting for +command and with one accord had faced towards +the firing.</p> + +<p>"Can you see anything?" Cary called.</p> + +<p>"Not yet," said Morrison. "I guess we +came too close to your nest—and the hornets +are coming out."</p> + +<p>"Turner!" he commanded, and a trooper's +hand went up, "ride up to the fork of the road. +Learn what you can and report."</p> + +<p>As the cavalryman struck his heels into his +horse's sides and dashed up the road Cary put +the wishes of both men into words.</p> + +<p>"It's too near sundown for a battle. It will +only be a skirmish."</p> + +<p>"Ye-e-e-s, possibly," the Northerner assented, +and he looked thoughtfully at Virgie, +"but still—"</p> + +<p>"What is it?"</p> + +<p>"I can't send you forward now—in the face +of that fire. And, for that matter, I can't +send you to the rear. In five minutes this +road will be glutted with cavalry and guns."</p> + +<p>"Never mind, Morrison," the Southerner +returned. "I couldn't go now—anyway."</p> + +<p>"Why?"</p> + +<p>Cary opened out his hands in a simple gesture. +"Because, in case of trouble for you at +headquarters, I'm <i>still</i> your prisoner." With +his eyes brave and steady on the others he took +the newly written pass from his breast—and +tore it in pieces. "When you want me," he +said, "you'll find me—<i>here</i>."</p> + +<p>If there had been time for argument Morrison +would have hotly protested against such +self-sacrifice, but events were crowding upon +them too fast. From down the road came the +sound of furious galloping. Almost at once +Lieutenant Harris, riding hard at the head +of a troop of cavalry, swept round the curve +and drew his horse upon his haunches.</p> + +<p>"Colonel Morrison!" he shouted. "You are +ordered—"</p> + +<p>"One moment, Lieutenant," interrupted +Morrison in tones so even that Cary marveled +at his composure, "<i>Did you get Corporal +Dudley?</i>"</p> + +<p>Cary's ears ached for the answer. He +knew just as well as the questioner the danger +which might now be disclosed or be forever forgotten +and his heart went out to the other in +this moment of hideous suspense.</p> + +<p>There was an instant of hesitation and then +came the answer.</p> + +<p>"<i>No, sir!</i> We tried hard but couldn't make +it."</p> + +<p>Morrison's face did not change but his hands +tightened until the nails dug deep into his +palms. He had played—and lost.</p> + +<p>"Go on with your report," he said.</p> + +<p>Harris pulled in his fretting horse and delivered +his significant news.</p> + +<p>"The Rebels are advancing in force. I was +sent back to you with orders to join Major +Foster at the fork and hold the road at any +cost. Two light field pieces are coming to +your support. Our main batteries are back +there—in the woods."</p> + +<p>"Right," said Morrison, "we go at once." +Turning back to Virgie he caught her up in +his arms and kissed her. "Good-by, little +sweetheart. Hide under the rocks and keep +close."</p> + +<p>"Good-by, Morrison," Gary said, as they +struck hands. "I can't wish you luck—but +our hearts are with you as a man."</p> + +<p>"Thanks, old fellow," said the enemy, as he +sprang over the wall "It helps—God +knows."</p> + +<p>He caught at his horse's mane and threw +himself into the saddle without touching the +stirrup, while his voice roared out his command.</p> + +<p>"Ready, men! Forward!"</p> + +<p>"Good-by," shrilled Virgie in her childish +treble. "Good-by, Colonel! Don't get +hurt."</p> + +<p>"Daddy!" she cried, as they crouched down +in their hiding place behind the wall. "Is +there going to be a—a <i>battle</i>?"</p> + +<p>"Only a little one. But you won't be +afraid."</p> + +<p>A rattle of approaching wheels came from +down the road, the shock of steel tires striking +viciously against the stones, the cries and oaths +of the drivers urging the horses forward.</p> + +<p>"Look!" cried Cary, springing to his feet +in spite of the danger in which his gray uniform +placed him. "Here come the field pieces. +In a minute now the dogs will begin to bark."</p> + +<p>With a roar of wheels and a clash of harness +and accouterments the guns rushed by while +the child stared and stared, her big eyes almost +starting out of her face.</p> + +<p>"The dogs!" she said in wonder. "There +wasn't a single dog there!"</p> + +<p>"Another kind of dog," her father said with +a meaning look. "And their teeth are <i>very</i> +long. Ah! There they go! Over yonder on +the hill—in the edge of the woods. The Yankee +dogs are barking. Now listen for the answer."</p> + +<p>Together they listened, father and daughter, +with straining ears—listened for the defiant +reply of those men who, being Americans, +were never beaten until hunger and superior +numbers forced them to the wall.</p> + +<p>"Boom!" A great, ear-filling sound crashed +over the hills and rolled, echoing, through the +woods.</p> + +<p>"That's us! That's us!" the man cried out +exultantly, while he caught the child closer in +his arms. "Hear our people talking, honey? +Hear 'em talk!"</p> + +<p>But overhead something was coming +through the air and the child shrank down in +terror—something that whined and screamed +as it sped on its dreadful way and seemed like +a demon out of hell searching for his prey.</p> + +<p>"Lord a' mercy, Daddy!" the child cried out. +"What's <i>that</i>?"</p> + +<p>He patted her head consolingly. "Nothing +at all but a shell. They sound much worse +than they really are. Don't be afraid. Nothing +will hurt you."</p> + +<p>From the forks of the road the sound of +volley firing grew stronger and, as if in response, +the road to the Union rear now turned +into a stream of living blue, with cavalry +madly galloping and sweating infantry hurrying +forward as fast as their legs could carry +them.</p> + +<p>"Look, Virgie, look!" her father cried, holding +her head a little way above the wall. "See +those bayonets shining back there across the +road. A whole regiment of infantry. And +they're going up against our <i>men across an +open field!</i> By Jiminy, but those Yanks will +get a mustard bath. Ah-hah!" he chortled, as +a roar of musketry broke out. "I told you so! +Our boys are after them. Good work! Good +work!"</p> + +<p>But again a shell passed over them and +again the world was filled with that awful +whining, shrieking sound.</p> + +<p>"Daddy," the child cried, with quivering +lips, but still dry eyed. "I don't <i>like</i> those +things. I don't <i>like</i>'em."</p> + +<p>"There, there, darling," he comforted as +they shrank closer under the protection of the +wall. "Keep down under my arm and they +won't bother you."</p> + +<p>As he spoke a twig with a fresh yellow break +in it fell from a tree and struck his upturned +face. He winced at the thought that the bullet +might have flown a few feet lower. And +meanwhile the sound of the firing came steadily +closer.</p> + +<p>"By Jove!" he murmured to himself, "it's a +bigger rumpus than I thought."</p> + +<p>This indeed was true. What had at first +promised to be only a skirmish between the +outposts of the two entrenched armies, now +developed into a general engagement covering +a space of half a mile along the line. A reconnoitering +force of Federal cavalry had ridden +too close to the rifle pits of the Confederates, +and, as Morrison himself expressed it, +"the hornets came out and began to sting."</p> + +<p>Major Foster, commanding a larger force +of cavalry, rode out in support of his reconnoitering +party, and found himself opposed, +not by a straggling line of Rebel pickets, but +by a moving wall of tattered gray, the units of +which advanced on a low-bent run, crouching +behind some bush or stone, to fire, reload and +advance again.</p> + +<p>An aide raced back to the Union lines to ask +for help in support of Foster's slender force +of cavalry; and thus the order came to Morrison +to join the detachment and hold the enemy +until reinforcements could be formed and +pushed to the firing line.</p> + +<p>The delay, however, was well nigh fatal for +Morrison and Major Foster, and from the +point where Cary and little Virgie watched, +the case of the Union horsemen seemed an +evil one. True, that infantry and guns were +soon advancing to their aid on a "double-quick"; +yet all the advantage seemed to lie +with the ragged, sharp-shooting Southerners.</p> + +<p>The crackle of musketry increased; the dust +rolled up and intermingled with the wreathes +of drifting smoke, and through it came the vicious +whine of leaden messengers of death.</p> + +<p>Then, borne on the wind, came a sound that +he would know till his dying day—<i>the rebel +yell</i>. An exultant scream,—a cry of unending +hate, defiance, <i>victory</i>!</p> + +<p>He sprang to his feet. Off came the battered +old campaign hat and unmindful that he +stood there hidden in the woods and that his +voice could carry only a few yards against +the roar of battle, he swung it over his head: +and shouted out his encouragement.</p> + +<p>"Look! We're whipping 'em. Virgie, do +you hear? We're getting them on the run. +Come on, boys! Come on!"</p> + +<p>He felt her clutch on his sleeve. With +wide eyes grown darker than ever with excitement, +she asked her piteous question.</p> + +<p>"Daddy! <i>Will they kill the Colonel?</i>"</p> + +<p>For a moment he could not answer. Then, +with a groan he gave back his answer: "I +<i>hope</i> not, darling. I hope not!"</p> + +<p>Down the road a riderless horse was coming, +head up and stirrups flying. As it galloped +past Cary scrutinized it closely and was +glad he did not recognize it. In its wake +came soldiers, infantry and dismounted cavalry, +firing, retreating, loading and firing +again, but always retreating.</p> + +<p>"Here come the stragglers," he cried. +"We're whipping 'em! Close, darling, <i>close</i>. +Lie down against the wall."</p> + +<p>He crouched above her, shielding her as best +he could with his body. Then, suddenly, a +man in blue leaped on the wall not ten feet +away. He had meant to seize the wall as a +breastwork and fight from behind it, but +before he dropped down he would fire one last +shot. His gun came up to his shoulder—he +aimed at some unseen foe and fired. But from +somewhere, out of the crash of sound and the +rolling powder smoke, a singing missile came +and found its mark. The man in blue bent +over suddenly, wavered, then toppled down +inside the wall, his gun ringing on the stones +as he fell.</p> + +<p>"Daddy!" the child whispered, with ashen +face, "it's the biscuit man. It's HARRY!"</p> + +<p>Her father's hand went out instinctively to +cover her eyes. "Don't look, dear! Don't +look!"</p> + +<p>The road was choked now. Cavalry and +infantry, all in a mad rush for the rear, were +tearing by while the two field pieces which but +a moment ago had gone into action with such +a deadly whirl came limping back with slashed +traces and splintered wheels. With fascinated +eyes the Rebel officer watched from behind +his wall, while everything, even his child, was +forgotten in the lust for victory. And so he +did not hear the faint voice behind him that +cried out in an agony of thirst and pain.</p> + +<p>"Water! Water! Help! Someone—give +water!"</p> + +<p>Virgie, with dilated eyes and heaving breast, +crouched low as long as she could and then +gave up everything to the pitiful appeal ringing +in her ears. Quick as a flash, she sped +away on bare feet over rocks and sharp, pointed +branches of fallen trees to the spring, where +she caught up a cup and filled it to the brim. +Another swift rush and she reached the fallen +man in blue and had the cup at his lips, while +her arm went under his head to lift it.</p> + +<p>"Virgie!" her father cried, frantic at the +sight. With a great leap he was at her side, +forcing her down to the ground and covering +her with his body.</p> + +<p>The trooper's head sank back and his eyes +began to dull.</p> + +<p>"May God bless ye, little one," he murmured. +"Heaven—<i>Mary</i>—<i>!</i>" His lips gave +out one long, shuddering sigh. His body +grew slack and his chin fell. Trooper Harry +O'Connell had fought his last fight—had +passed to his final review.</p> + +<p>One look at the boyish face so suddenly +gone gray and bloodless and Gary caught +Virgie up in his arms. "Come dear, you can't +help him any more," and with a crouching run +they were back once more in the shelter of the +wall.</p> + +<p>And now the shriek of the shells and the +whine of the bullets came shriller than before. +All around them the twigs were dropping, +while the acrid powder smoke rolled in through +the trees and burnt their eyes and throats. +Again came men in blue retreating and among +them an officer on horseback, wheeling his +animal madly around among them and shouting +encouragement as he tried to face them +to the front. "Keep at it, men," Morrison +was crying, half mad with rage. "One +decent stand and we can hold them. Give it +to them hard. Stand, I tell you. <i>Stand!</i>"</p> + +<p>All around him, however, men were falling +and those who were left began to waver. +"Steady, men! Don't flinch," came the shout +again. "Ah-hah, you <i>would</i>, would you? +<i>Coward!</i>"</p> + +<p>Morrison's sword held flatwise, thudded +down on the back of a man who had flung +away his gun. "Get back in the fight, you +dog! Get back!"</p> + +<p>He whipped out his revolver and pointed +it till the gun had been snatched up, then fired +all its chambers at the oncoming hordes in +gray.</p> + +<p>"One more stand," he yelled. "One +more—"</p> + +<p>Beside him the color sergeant gave a moan +and bent in the middle like a hinge. Another +slackening of his body and the stricken bearer +of the flag plunged from his saddle, the colors +trailing in the dust.</p> + +<p>Morrison spurred his mount toward the +fallen man, bending to grasp the colors from +the tight gripped hand; but even as he bent, +his horse went down. He leaped to save himself, +then turned once more, snatched at the +flag of his routed regiment and waved it above +his head.</p> + +<p>"<i>Stand, boys, and give it to 'em!</i>"</p> + +<p>A shout went up—not from the men he +sought to rally to his flag, but from those who +would win it at a cost of blood, for his troopers +were running on a backward road, and Morrison +fought alone. The "gray devils" were all +around him now, and he backed against the +wall, fighting till his sword was sent spinning +from his fist by the blow of a musket butt; +then, grasping the color-pole in both his hands, +he parried bayonet thrusts and saber strokes, +panting, breathing in hot, labored gasps, and +cursing his enemies from a hoarse, parched +throat.</p> + +<p>A hideous, unequal fight it was, and soon +Lieutenant-Colonel Morrison must fall as his +colors fell and be trampled in the dust; yet +now through an eddying drift of smoke came +another ragged Southerner, a grim, gaunt man +whose voice was as hoarse as Morrison's, who +had grasped a saber from the blood stained +rocks and waved it above his head.</p> + +<p>"Back, boys! Don't kill that man!"</p> + +<p>Among them he plunged till he reached the +side of Morrison, then turned and faced the +brothers of his country and his State. With +a downward stroke he arrested a saber thrusts +and then struck upward at a rifle's mouth as it +spit its deadly flame.</p> + +<p>"Don't kill him! Do you hear?" he cried, as +he beat at the bayonet points. "I'm Cary! +Herbert Cary!—<i>on the staff of General Lee!</i>"</p> + +<p>For an instant the attacking Southerners +stood aghast at the sight of this raging man in +gray who defended a Yankee officer; and yet +he had made no saber stroke to wound or kill; +instead, his weapon had come between their +own and the life of a well-nigh helpless foe. +For a moment more they paused and looked +with wondering eyes, and in that moment their +victory was changed to rout.</p> + +<p>A bugle blared. A thundering rush of +hoof beats sounded on the road, and the Union +reënforcements swept around the curve. Six +abreast they came, a regiment of strong, +straight riders, hungry for battle, hot to retrieve +the losing fortune of the day. The +road was too narrow for a concentrated rush, +so they streamed into the fields on either side, +re-formed, and swept like an avalanche of blue +upon their prey. The guns in the woods now +thundered forth afresh, their echoes rolling out +across the hills, and the attacking Rebels +turned and fled, like leaves before a storm.</p> + +<p>On one side of the road, Morrison and Cary +shrank down beside the wall to let the Union +riders pass; on the other, all that was left of +the Rebel force ran helter-skelter for a screen +of protecting trees. But before the last one +disappeared he threw up his gun and fired, +haphazard, in the direction whence he had +come.</p> + +<p>As if in reply came the sound of a saber +falling from a man's hand and striking on a +stone. Under his very eyes and just as he +was putting out his hand to grip the others +Morrison saw Herbert Cary sinking slowly to +the ground.</p> + +<p>And then, through the yellow dust clouds +and the powder smoke and all the horrid reek +of war, a child came running with outstretched +arms and piteous voice—a frightened child, +weeping for the father who had thrown himself +headlong into peril to save another's life +and who, perhaps, had lost his own.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IX" id="CHAPTER_IX"></a>CHAPTER IX</h2> + + +<p>The headquarters of the Army of the Potomac +on the morning of August 4, 1864, were at +City Point near where the Appomattox meets +the James. Here the grim, silent man in +whose hands lay the destinies of the United +States sent out the telegrams which kept the +Federal forces gnawing at the cage in which +Lee had shut himself and meanwhile held to +his strategic position south of Richmond. To +his left and west lay Petersburg still unconquered, +but Petersburg could wait, for Early's +gray clad troopers were scourging the Shenandoah +and the menace must be removed. To +this end Grant had sent a telegram to Washington +three days before expressing in unmistakable +terms what he wished General Sheridan +and his cavalry to accomplish. They were +to go over into the Shenandoah and, putting +themselves <i>south</i> of the enemy, follow him to +the death. To which telegram the tall, lank, +furrow-faced man in the White House whose +kindly heart was bursting with the strain replied +in characteristic fashion and told him +that his purpose was exactly right. And +then, with a gleam of humor, warned him +against influences in Washington which would +prevent its carrying out unless he forced it.</p> + +<p>This message had come but a few minutes +before and it had been received with silent +satisfaction for Grant knew now that Abraham +Lincoln and he were in perfect accord +as to the means for swiftly bringing on the +end. But the plans must be well laid and to +that end he must leave City Point within a few +hours and go north. And so he was standing +at a window of his headquarters this morning +with his eyes resting unseeingly on the camp, +while his cool, quiet mind steadily forged out +his schemes.</p> + +<p>Unlike the headquarters of "play" armies +where all is noise and confusion and bloodied +orderlies throw themselves off of plunging +horses and gasp out their reports, the room in +which General Grant did his work was +strangely quiet.</p> + +<p>It was a large, square room with high ceiling +and wall paper which had defied all the +arts of Europe to render interesting in design. +Furniture was neither plentiful nor comfortable—a +slippery, black horse-hair sofa, a few +horse-hair chairs and, at one side of the room, +a table and a desk, littered with papers, maps +and files. At the table Grant's adjutant, +Forbes, sat writing. Facing him was the +door opening out into the hallway of the +house where two sentries stood on guard. In +the silence which pervaded the room and in the +quiet application to the work in hand there +was a perfect reflection of the mind of him +who stood impassive at the window with his +back turned, a faint blue cloud of cigar smoke +rising above his head.</p> + +<p>A quick step sounded in the corridor—the +step of one who bears a message. An orderly +appeared in the doorway, spoke to the two sentries +and was passed in with a salute to Forbes.</p> + +<p>"For General Grant," he said, holding out +a folded note of white paper. "Personal from +Lieutenant Harris, sir."</p> + +<p>At the sound of his name the General turned +slowly and accepted the note which the orderly +presented. He took it without haste and yet +without any perceptible loss of time or motion +and, as always, without unnecessary words. +Scanning it, he shifted his cigar to one corner +of his mouth where its smoke would not rise +into his eyes, thought for an instant, then +nodded shortly.</p> + +<p>"I'll see him. At once."</p> + +<p>Dismissed, the orderly saluted and passed +quickly out. The General, with his chin in his +collar and his cigar held between his fingers +at nearly the same level, moved back to the +window and stood there silently as before. +He knew what Lieutenant Harris would wish +to speak to him about. A few weeks before a +Lieutenant-Colonel of cavalry had been court-martialed +on the charge of allowing the escape +of a spy. The court had found him guilty +and its findings had been submitted to the +higher authorities and endorsed by them. A +copy of these reports now lay on his desk. +All this his Adjutant, Forbes, knew as well +as the General himself, but if Forbes had +thought it worth while to speculate on the extent +of his commander's interest he might have +guessed for years without ever drawing one +logical conclusion from all the hints that that +impassive face and figure gave him.</p> + +<p>Again a ringing step in the corridor and +this time Lieutenant Harris came into the +room, his hand going up in salute. But his +General was still looking out of the window, +his eyes on a dead level. There was a silence +and then—without turning around—</p> + +<p>"Well, Lieutenant, what is it?"</p> + +<p>"A short conference, General, if you'll +grant it. The case of Lieutenant-Colonel +Morrison." It was hard work to talk to one +who kept his back turned and Harris was embarrassed.</p> + +<p>The smoke from the General's cigar still +curled lazily upwards.</p> + +<p>"Reprieve?" came the monosyllabic question.</p> + +<p>Harris caught himself together and put all +his feelings.</p> + +<p>"No, General. A <i>pardon</i>!"</p> + +<p>At once Grant wheeled and stood gazing at +him keenly.</p> + +<p>"<i>Pardon?</i>" he said, and he advanced with +deliberation to the desk where he stood with +his eyes steady on Harris' face. "Lieutenant! +Do you want me to think you are out of your +mind?"</p> + +<p>Before Harris could reply Grant stopped +him with a gesture and picked up a batch of +papers which lay on the desk.</p> + +<p>"The man has been given every chance. He +has been court-martialed—and found guilty."</p> + +<p>He dropped the papers in the case back on +the desk. "And you—his counsel—having +failed to prove him otherwise now come to <i>me</i>—for +pardon."</p> + +<p>He snapped his fingers. "Lieutenant, you +are wasting time." And he turned away, +pausing for a moment to turn over a sheaf +here and there on his desk and meditate their +contents. The incident of Lieutenant-Colonel +Morrison has been disposed of and, in +another moment would be forgotten. It was +now or never for Harris and he answered +quickly.</p> + +<p>"I hope not, sir. Neither yours nor mine." +And then, as the General looked up with some +surprise at this retort. "You have read the +findings of the court?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," was the grim reply. "And approve +the sentence. To-morrow he will be shot."</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir," acknowledged Harris. "Unless +<i>you</i> intervene."</p> + +<p>At this curiously insistent plea for clemency +the short, stocky bearded man who, to so few, +had the bearing of a great general, faced Lieutenant +Harris and gave him a look which +made the young officer's bravery falter for a +long moment.</p> + +<p>"<i>I?</i>" said the General, with a searching note +in his voice which seemed to probe coldly and +with deadly accuracy among the strenuous +emotions in the young man's mind. "Harris—you +are an officer of promise. Don't cut +that promise short." With a flick of his ashes +to one side he turned away. The cigar went +back into the corner of his sardonic mouth.</p> + +<p>Harris strode forward an impulsive step +and threw out his hands.</p> + +<p>"It is worth the risk. When a man is condemned +to die—"</p> + +<p>The General wheeled with more impatience +than the Adjutant, Forbes, had seen him exhibit +through many vexatious, worrying +months. His voice took on a rasping note. +He tapped the papers on the desk with grim +significance.</p> + +<p>"Lieutenant-Colonel Morrison has failed in +his military duty. He released a Rebel spy—proved +himself a traitor to his cause."</p> + +<p>"A traitor, General?" protested the young +officer. "Do you call a man a traitor who +fought as Morrison did a week ago? Who +stood his ground till his whole command was +shot to pieces! And then stood alone—defending +his colors in the face of hell let loose!"</p> + +<p>The appeal was impassioned, its sincerity +and humanity undoubted. Yet it seemingly +only served to make the grim rules of war +more unyielding than ever.</p> + +<p>Choosing his words with more than ordinary +care, and speaking them in firm, even +tones, the General made his reply.</p> + +<p>"No act of bravery can atone for a soldier's +lapse from duty." He sat down at his desk +and began to write.</p> + +<p>Under ordinary circumstances Lieutenant +Harris might have accepted defeat for there +seemed no use in trying to break down that +iron will or touch the heart of this relentless +soldier. But this was something more than +an ordinary case and Harris was more than +simply Morrison's counsel—he was his friend. +The two had fought together through three +hard campaigns; they had shared food and +water and shelter, had slept together for +warmth on sodden fields, had exchanged such +confidences as two officers from the same town +in the North but of unequal rank may exchange +under the pressure of war-time emotions. +If there was one man living who knew +Morrison's heart and appreciated his motives +to the uttermost it was his lieutenant and the +young officer was prepared to lose his commission, +aye, even face prison for insubordination +if continued opposition to the Commander-in-Chief +would result in a re-hearing. And so +he caught himself together for the second time +and returned to the charge.</p> + +<p>"I do not offer his courage as a plea for +pardon," he said, and turned to his general +with half a smile, "but still I find in Shakespeare—and +in Blackstone—the suggestion of +tempering justice with mercy."</p> + +<p>Grant tossed aside his pencil, repeating the +last word slowly, bitterly:</p> + +<p>"<i>Mercy!</i>"</p> + +<p>He rose from his seat and stood beside his +table, speaking with a low but almost fierce +intensity:</p> + +<p>"They call me a war machine! I am! And +you—and all the rest—are parts of it! A +lever! A screw! A valve! A wheel! A +machine half human—yes! A thing of muscle +and bone and blood—but without a heart! A +merciless <i>machine</i>, whose wheels must turn +and turn till we grind out this rebellion to the +dust of peace!"</p> + +<p>He paused impressively, and in the hard, +cold words which followed, all hope for Morrison +seemed to fade and die.</p> + +<p>"If a wheel once fails to do its work—discard +it!—for another and a better one! <i>We +want no wheels that slip their cogs!</i>"</p> + +<p>The General ceased and turned to his littered +table; but Harris was not yet beaten.</p> + +<p>"No, General," he answered bravely, "but +there happens to be a flaw ... in your machine's +control." The General looked up, +frowning sharply; but Harris still went on: +"In a military court we have condemned a +man to die—<i>and the facts have not been +proved!</i>"</p> + +<p>Amazed more at the young officer's obstinate +temerity than his words the General stared +at him.</p> + +<p>"How so?" he asked, with irony.</p> + +<p>Harris opened out his hands with a simple +gesture that seemed to leave his logic to the +judgment of any impartial observer.</p> + +<p>"In times of peace, my profession is that +of the Law. I know my ground—and," in +rising tones of sincerity, "I challenge you to +shake it in any civil court in Christendom."</p> + +<p>"Strong words, young man," came the +stern reply. "For your sake, I hope they are +warranted. What is your point? Get at it!"</p> + +<p>Harris drew a short breath of relief. He +had cleverly switched the appeal from grounds +on which he stood no chance whatever to those +where he did not fear any intellect in a fair +fight.</p> + +<p>"The evidence," he said calmly, "was purely +circumstantial. In the first place, it is alleged +that my client captured a Rebel spy, one Herbert +Cary, who was hiding in the loft of a +cabin."</p> + +<p>The General's caustic tones interrupted. +"To which fact," he said, "there were only <i>ten</i> +witnesses."</p> + +<p>"Yes, General," was the faintly smiling +agreement. "Ten! But not one of them actually +<i>saw</i> the man! They <i>believe</i> he was +there, but they cannot swear to it."</p> + +<p>Grant made a motion as of putting away +something of no consequence. "Immaterial—in +view of the other facts. Well—what +else?"</p> + +<p>"Next, it is claimed that Morrison released +this spy and allowed him to enter the Union +lines—without regard to consequences."</p> + +<p>The General gave a short exclamation of +impatience, and struck the papers on his desk +with the flat of his hand.</p> + +<p>"And that is <i>proved</i>," he said, sharply. +"Proved by several officers who stopped your +spy at points along the road."</p> + +<p>He singled out a soiled piece of paper from +the sheaf before him and held it up, a piece of +paper which bore writing on both sides.</p> + +<p>"When taken, <i>this pass</i> was found on his +person. Not circumstantial evidence, but +<i>fact</i>. Signed on one side by R.E. Lee and, +on the other, by Colonel Morrison." He +laughed shortly over the futility of argument +under such circumstances. "Do you presume +to contest this, <i>too</i>?"</p> + +<p>To his amazement the young officer facing +him bowed easily and smiled in turn.</p> + +<p>"I <i>do</i>. Emphatically. <i>No pass</i> was given +Herbert Cary either by Colonel Morrison <i>or</i> +General Lee."</p> + +<p>"<i>What?</i>" cried the General angrily.</p> + +<p>Harris only pointed.</p> + +<p>"Read it, sir—if you please." He watched +till Grant's eyes started to scan the pass again, +and then repeated the words which he knew +so well.</p> + +<p>"Pass <i>Virginia Cary</i> and escort through +Federal—and Confederate lines."</p> + +<p>"'Virginia Cary,' General, is a non-combatant +and a child. 'Escort' may mean a +single person—or it may mean a whole troop +of cavalry."</p> + +<p>To his infinite relief and joy his Commanding +General looked up at him thoughtfully, +then slowly rose from his desk and took a turn +about the room, followed by a faint blue trail +of cigar smoke. He paused.</p> + +<p>"And what does <i>Cary</i> say?" he asked.</p> + +<p>Again Harris smiled the quiet smile of the +lawyer who has been confronted with such +questions before and knows well how to answer +them.</p> + +<p>"He, too, is on trial for his life. His evidence, +naturally, was not admitted."</p> + +<p>"Ah! Then what says <i>Morrison</i>?"</p> + +<p>"Nothing, sir," was the young lieutenant's +calm reply. "The burden of proof lies with +the prosecution—not with the defendant."</p> + +<p>"And this is your contention—your <i>legal</i> +flaw in my machine?" the General asked +sharply.</p> + +<p>"It is."</p> + +<p>"Very good, sir—very good. In that case +we'll call in these silent partners and dig into +this case until we reach rock bottom!"</p> + +<p>"Forbes," he ordered. "Send for the prisoner, +Mr. Morrison—and the Rebel, Herbert +Cary. I want both of them here—at once!"</p> + +<p>In the pause which followed the Adjutant's +exit Harris interposed an objection.</p> + +<p>"Your method, General, is hardly just to +the interests of my client."</p> + +<p>Grant turned on him with something mere +than impatience. He was growing angry.</p> + +<p>"Lieutenant Harris! Are you asking me +to pardon a guilty man? It's the truth I want—not +legal technicalities. Next you'll be asking +me not to hang this Rebel spy because he +has—a baby!"</p> + +<p>He went back to his accustomed place at the +window and stood looking out again, his hands +clasped loosely behind his back, the eternal +cigar smoke rising above his head. Then, to +the young lieutenant's amazement, he asked +a question in tones of ordinary conversation.</p> + +<p>"Harris," he said. "Who was the man who +preferred these charges to start with?"</p> + +<p>"Corporal Dudley," was the eager answer.</p> + +<p>"And there, General, is another point and +a vital one that was not brought out. In reporting +his Colonel, Dudley was actuated not +by a spirit of military duty, but personal revenge."</p> + +<p>"Revenge? Why?"</p> + +<p>"Because Morrison shot and killed Dudley's +brother—a Sergeant in his command."</p> + +<p>The General came back from his window.</p> + +<p>"Again—why?"</p> + +<p>"For insubordination—incendiarism—attempted +desertion," came the swift reply.</p> + +<p>The General's eyebrows raised a fraction of +an inch. He seated himself at his desk and +unrolled a map.</p> + +<p>"Any witnesses of the Sergeant's death?" he +asked evenly as he proceeded to study his map.</p> + +<p>"Unfortunately, only one," Harris replied. +"An old negro—now in our camp—answering +to the name of William Lewis."</p> + +<p>"Lewis—Lewis," said Grant thoughtfully. +He referred for a moment to a file of papers +and then looked up. "Is that the old codger +who's been worrying my entire staff for +permission to go through our lines to his +home?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, General," said Harris, with a smile, +for Unc' Billy's persistency and his troubles +were known to everyone he met.</p> + +<p>"Good! It's about time we got even him," +the General remarked sardonically. "Have +him in! See to it, Forbes." And again he +bent over his map.</p> + +<p>Forbes, passing out again, paused as Harris +gestured.</p> + +<p>"You'll find him somewhere near the guard +house," the Lieutenant said with a flicker of +a, smile. "The old man has been regularly +camping out there since he learned that his +master was inside."</p> + +<p>A minute passed and then, from a short distance +away, came the sound of a squad of soldiers +marching. In single file, with the two +prisoners in line, the squad came into the hallway +and stopped at the doorway.</p> + +<p>"<i>Halt! Left face! Order arms! Prisoners +file out!</i>" The two prisoners stepped forward +and entered the room.</p> + +<p>Thanks to expert surgical work since he entered +Union lines, Herbert Cary's wounds +had healed quickly while plenty of good food +had done the rest. His eyes may not have +been bright with hope but at least they were +clear with health and his straight back and +squared shoulders showed that the man's fighting +spirit had not left him even under the adverse +decision of a court-martial.</p> + +<p>Of the two, Morrison seemed the graver and +quieter. With his sword taken from him and +his shoulder straps ripped off the man who +had been a Lieutenant-Colonel in the Army of +the Potomac only the day before stood looking +at his general without the slightest hope for +clemency. Yet, with all the sad, quiet look of +resignation in his eyes, behind them glowed a +wonderful light—the light of self-sacrifice. +For he had chosen to put on the tender glove +of humanity and grip hands with the mailed +gauntlet of war, and though he had been +crushed yet even in this bitter hour they could +not take from him the knowledge that the +Commander in Chief of all spiritual armies +would stand forever on his side. They could +take his sword and shoulder straps but they +could not rob him of that divine consolation.</p> + +<p>And so the two stood with their eyes steady +on the General—the Confederate, hard and +defiant—the Union officer with a strange, sad +glow on his face.</p> + +<p>But the General paid them no attention. +He was still studying the map laid out before +him on his desk, the cigar in the corner of his +mouth drawing one side of his face into harsh, +deep lines. As a matter of fact, Ulysses Simpson +Grant was very far removed from harshness—he +was simply and solely efficiency personified. +When nothing was to be said +General Grant said nothing. To do otherwise +was waste.</p> + +<p>Presently he looked up and saw that while +Forbes had given the two prisoners chairs directly +in front of his desk one of the important +factors in the business in hand had not been +produced.</p> + +<p>"Well, Forbes, well? Where is the negro?" +He asked crisply. "Bring him in! Bring him +in!"</p> + +<p>"In a moment, General," responded the Adjutant, +hastening to the doorway as the tread +of feet sounded again in the hallway. Dismissing +the two privates who had arrived with +Uncle Billy between them he led the old man +down to the desk and left him there, bowing +and scraping a little and holding his hat in +front of him in both hands.</p> + +<p>"Wan' see <i>me</i>, suh?" ventured Uncle Billy, +intruding delicately on the General's calculations. +"Here I is!"</p> + +<p>General Grant looked up quickly and ran +his eye over the old man.</p> + +<p>"Your name!"</p> + +<p>"Er—William Lewis, seh. Yas, seh."</p> + +<p>"To whom do you belong?"</p> + +<p>Although Uncle Billy's back was not particularly +straight this sudden question introduced +a stiffening into it which made it more +upright than it had been in years.</p> + +<p>"I b'longs to Cap'n Hubbert Cary, seh—of +de Confed'it Army. Das who I b'longs to. +Yas, seh."</p> + +<p>The General sat back a little in his chair and +studied Uncle Billy. He saw that after all +the old negro was simply a natural slave—that +he probably had no other thought in his +grayed head than that of faithful service to his +owner. But he would try him and see how +far the old man would go.</p> + +<p>"I understand," he said, "that freedom has +been offered you—and you refused it. Is this +true?"</p> + +<p>"Yas, seh."</p> + +<p>"<i>Why?</i>" asked the General quietly.</p> + +<p>Uncle Billy stammered.</p> + +<p>"Well—er—well, 'skuse me, Mars' Gen'l, +but—but down whar <i>I</i> lives at de—de white +gent'men understands a nigger better'n what +you-all does. Yas, seh."</p> + +<p>General Grant may have smiled internally, +but the only symptom of amusement was the +dry note in his voice.</p> + +<p>"I see. But there has been some difference +of opinion on the point."</p> + +<p>He paused and then pointed past Uncle +Billy directly at Morrison. "Do you know +that man?"</p> + +<p>"Me?" said Uncle Billy. He turned and +saw Morrison and instantly his face lighted up. +It made no difference to the old negro that +Morrison's uniform was mutilated—he could +only see the familiar features of one who had +treated his dead mistress with perfect respect +under trying circumstances.</p> + +<p>"Aw, yas, seh," he broke out, with a broad +grin. "How you does, Cun'l. I clar to—"</p> + +<p>Uncle Billy stopped. His eyes had gone +beyond Morrison to the man sitting beside him +and at the sight of that loved figure the old +man began to tremble. His voice lowered to +a whisper and he began to totter forward.</p> + +<p>"Mars' Cary!" he said, as if he were looking +on one risen from the dead. He came a +little nearer, with his hand stretched out as +if to touch him testingly—then suddenly +dropped down on his knees before Gary who +had risen from his chair. "Bless Gawd, I +done fin' you," he sobbed, his face buried in his +toaster's coat. "I done fin' you at last."</p> + +<p>The General frowned.</p> + +<p>"Forbes," he ordered. "Put a stop to that. +Bring him back!"</p> + +<p>But Uncle Billy paid not a bit of attention +as the Adjutant sprang up. All his thought +was for his master and his own explanation.</p> + +<p>"Dey wouldn' lemme git thru, seh!" he cried, +pleading absolution from what had seemed an +inexcusable breach of trust. "Dey wouldn' +gimme no pass an' I'se des been stuck! Aw, +Gawd, Mars' Cary—an' I axed 'em ev'y day!"</p> + +<p>"There now, Billy—don't," Cary said with +a gesture of pity and unending gratitude.</p> + +<p>Uncle Billy rose slowly to his feet.</p> + +<p>"Yas, seh. Yas, seh," he answered obediently. +"'Skuse me, Mars' Gen'l. I couldn' +he'p it, seh. I—I couldn' he'p it. Dey +wouldn' eben lemme see him in de guard +house—"</p> + +<p>"That will do," interrupted the General +firmly. "Listen to me. When did you see +Mr. Morrison—last?"</p> + +<p>"Him?" said Uncle Billy, looking around +at the Union officer. "'Twas—'twas in de +spring, seh. Yas, seh. De time de Yankees +bu'nt us out."</p> + +<p>"How's that?" asked the General, not understanding.</p> + +<p>Lieutenant Harris came forward a step.</p> + +<p>"The act of incendiarism I spoke of, General—on +the part of Sergeant Dudley."</p> + +<p>The General looked up and nodded.</p> + +<p>"I see," he said, and Harris, knowing that +due weight would be given the fact let go a +faint sigh of relief and stepped back.</p> + +<p>The cigar came out of the General's mouth. +"Tell me about it," he said to Uncle Billy.</p> + +<p>The old negro drew himself up and shifted +his weight onto his other foot.</p> + +<p>"Well, seh, 'twas dis way. One mornin' de +blue-bellies—'skuse me, seh, de cav'lry gent'men. +One mornin' de cav'lry gent'men come +ridin' up, lookin' fer horses an' fodder an'—an' +Mars' Cary—an' anything else what was +layin' roun'. Yas, seh. An' des' befo' dis +here gent'man come," with a bow at Morrison, +"a low-lived white man took'n grab me by de +th'oat—an' choke me, seh. Den he 'sult Miss +Hallie—"</p> + +<p>"Miss Hallie?" queried the General.</p> + +<p>"My mis'tiss, seh," answered Uncle Billy. +"My mis'tiss, seh," he said again and his hand +went up to his eyes.</p> + +<p>"The wife of Captain Cary," Harris said +in a low tone and the General nodded.</p> + +<p>"Den—bless Gawd—de Cun'l come! He +pick him down offn de front po'ch—and put +him under 'rest. Yas, seh. An' Miss Hallie, +she sho' was hoppin', Gen'l. She—"</p> + +<p>"Never mind that," sighed the man whose +creed was Patience. "Go on with the +story."</p> + +<p>"Yas, seh. Thank'e, seh. 'Twas des lek I +tell you, seh. An' arfter while orders come +to de cav'lry gent'men fer to light out fr'm +dar in a hurry. An' whilst dey was gettin' +ready, seh, an' me an' de Cun'l was waitin' +roun' fer to proteck de property, de fire bus' +right out de winders!</p> + +<p>"Dat's right, Mars' Gen'l," Uncle Billy +hurried to state, as the General's eyebrows +went up in surprise. "Dat's right. Den de +front do' flewed open, an' here come dat po' +white trash rapscallion—wid de pine knot in +his han'. Yas, <i>seh</i>. He—"</p> + +<p>"One moment!" snapped the General. +"Was he running <i>towards</i> his troop or <i>away</i> +from it?"</p> + +<p>"<i>Way</i> fr'm it, seh," replied the old negro, +with unmistakable truthfulness, "t'odes de +ice house whar Miss Hallie an' de chillun was +at. Yas, seh."</p> + +<p>"And Mr. Morrison tried to stop him?"</p> + +<p>"Ha!" cried Uncle Billy, with a chuckle. +"He mo'n tried, seh. He <i>done</i> it!"</p> + +<p>The General nodded, his lips tight shut.</p> + +<p>"So I understand. But what did he do—or +say?"</p> + +<p>At this question Uncle Billy suddenly developed +dramatic abilities that his master had +never dreamed of.</p> + +<p>"He say—" and Uncle Billy's arm shot out +as he pointed something deadly at an invisible +foe—"he say, '<i>Halt! Dudley! Halt! Bang!</i>'"</p> + +<p>Uncle Billy's hat dropped down on the floor +with a whack. "Dat's all, seh. Dat po' white +trash—he drop lek a stuck pig, seh!"</p> + +<p>The General's eyes were on his desk and for +a moment there was a pause. Finally, he +lifted his head and looked at Morrison, who +rose in salute.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Morrison. You did well. Your +Sergeant failed in his military duty—and deserved +the punishment. I commend your +action."</p> + +<p>Harris, listening with all his might, thought +the words more favorable than the tone in +which they were spoken and his face brightened. +Then he heard the General speaking +more sternly.</p> + +<p>"The Federal powers of administrative +justice now occupy precisely the same position +with regard to your own default."</p> + +<p>Harris' face darkened. After the first just +encomium—what was this that was coming?</p> + +<p>Relentless and inflexible the voice went on.</p> + +<p>"The rules of war, as applied to a non-commissioned +officer, must also govern his superiors. +As Sergeant Dudley deserved his bullet +you merit <i>yours</i>."</p> + +<p>His eyes dropped from Morrison's face and +he looked up at Harris.</p> + +<p>"A bad witness for your client, Lieutenant," +he said grimly, as he nodded his head +towards Uncle Billy. "You ought to study +law! Take him away," and he picked up a +fresh cigar from a box in front of him and +tossed the old one out of the window.</p> + +<p>Uncle Billy, with a puzzled look on his face, +slowly yielded to the touch of the two soldiers +who stepped into the room at a gesture from +Forbes. He seemed to realize that his testimony +had not been of much avail though just +why was indeed a mystery. One thing, however, +was quite clear.</p> + +<p>"'Skuse me, Mars' Gen'l. I—I don't need +dat ar pass home now. An' I much obliged +to you fer <i>not</i> givin' it to me. Yas, seh. +Thank'e, seh." At the doorway he bowed +with careful politeness to each occupant of the +fatal room. "Good mornin', Mars' Cary. +Good mornin', gent'men. <i>Good</i> mornin'."</p> + +<p>With the disappearance of bewildered +Uncle Billy the General swung around on +the officer who no longer wore his shoulder +straps.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Morrison," he said, in his distinct, +even tones. "Your friend and counsel, Lieutenant +Harris, has applied to me for your pardon!"</p> + +<p>"<i>Pardon?</i>" cried Morrison, springing to his +feet with an exclamation of amazement.</p> + +<p>"Exactly," was the crisp response. "It +comes from him—not from you. But still, as +an interested party, have you anything to say +in your own behalf?"</p> + +<p>The Union officer stared at his general for +a moment without replying. Yes, there were +many things that might be said—all of them +honest arguments in his own behalf, all of +them weighted with Right and Humanity +but none of them worth putting into words in +the face of this deadly machine of war, this +grim, austere, unyielding tribunal. He wavered +for a moment on his feet as a terrible +wave of despair surged over him, then made a +faint gesture of negation.</p> + +<p>"I have nothing to say, sir."</p> + +<p>"Captain Cary!" ordered the General and, +as Cary rose unsteadily to his feet, "No. +Keep your seat, sir; you are wounded. Is it +true—as I learn from this report—that during +a skirmish a week ago you helped defend the +Union colors against your own people?"</p> + +<p>Cary shot up from his chair with a fiery +rush of anger.</p> + +<p>"<i>I? No, sir!</i> I defended the <i>man</i>—not +the soldier, or his flag!"</p> + +<p>"Ah!" ejaculated the General, leaning back +in his chair and blowing out a cloud of smoke +in surprise. "You draw a rather fine distinction, +Captain. You saved the colors—<i>but +you failed to save the man!</i> You had better +have let him die—as an honorable soldier."</p> + +<p>There was silence for a moment, and the General +asked: "Is it true that you were actuated +by a debt of gratitude?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," answered the Southerner, throwing +back his head. "And a greater debt than I +can ever hope to pay. His mercy to—my +little girl."</p> + +<p>Without relaxing for a moment his grip on +the points of the case, no matter what human +elements might be drawn into it, the General +instantly rose and shot out an accusing forefinger +at the Confederate.</p> + +<p>"And the pass he gave—<i>to you!</i>"</p> + +<p>Their eyes clashed but the Southerner lowered +his own not a whit and backed them, furthermore, +with honest anger.</p> + +<p>"<i>To her!</i>" he answered, and drove the reply +home with clenched jaws.</p> + +<p>The General relaxed—and smiled.</p> + +<p>"Another fine distinction," he said, resuming +his seat. He knocked the ashes from his +cigar and presently looked up with another +one of those terribly vital questions which +came so simply from his lips. "Did you ever +penetrate the Federal lines by means of a uniform—of +blue?"</p> + +<p>The Confederate drew back as he felt the +assault on his rights as a soldier.</p> + +<p>"As to that, General Grant, there is—"</p> + +<p>"Answer me!" came the sharp command. +"'Yes' or 'No'!"</p> + +<p>"One moment, General," interrupted Harris, +with a lawyer's quick objection. "If—"</p> + +<p>"No interference, Harris," came the curt +order. "Answer me, Captain. 'Yes' or +'No'!"</p> + +<p>The Southerner's face flushed and he threw +back his head with the superb defiance that +General Grant knew so well—which was his +one eternal stumbling block, and due to continue +for another full year of blood.</p> + +<p>"Under the rulings of court-martial law," +the Confederate Captain said in ringing tones, +"I deny even <i>your</i> right to the question."</p> + +<p>To the surprise of everyone the General +merely nodded.</p> + +<p>"That is all, sir. Thank you," he said, and +Cary, with a look of surprise, slowly resumed +his seat.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Morrison!"</p> + +<p>The Union officer rose and saluted.</p> + +<p>"As a military servant of the United States +Government you were ordered to pursue this +man and take him—dead or alive. In this +you failed."</p> + +<p>Morrison inclined his head gravely but shot +a look of respectful objection at his superior.</p> + +<p>"In part—I failed."</p> + +<p>Instantly the accusing forefinger was +leveled at him across the desk and the point +made with terrible directness.</p> + +<p>"<i>And knowing he was a spy!</i>"</p> + +<p>Morrison shook his head.</p> + +<p>"Not to my personal knowledge, sir. I +hunted him many times; but never while he +wore a Federal uniform."</p> + +<p>"And when you captured him?"</p> + +<p>In reply, Morrison simply indicated Cary's +tattered coat of gray.</p> + +<p>"Ah! Then you <i>did</i> capture him?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," came the quiet answer.</p> + +<p>"And he <i>was</i> the escort mentioned in your +pass."</p> + +<p>"Yes," Morrison answered slowly.</p> + +<p>"H'm," said the General. He rose and +turned to Harris.</p> + +<p>"I am afraid, my dear Harris, that in spite +of fine spun distinctions and your legal technicalities, +the findings of our court were not far +wrong."</p> + +<p>Dropping his handful of papers on the desk +he caught Morrison's eye and rasped out his +analysis of the case.</p> + +<p>"Captain Cary practically admits his guilt! +<i>You</i> were aware of it! And yet you send him +through the very center of our lines! A <i>pass</i>! +Carte blanche to learn the disposition of our +forces—our weakness and our strength—and +to make his report in Richmond. He was an +enemy—with a price on his head! And you +trusted him! <i>A spy!</i>"</p> + +<p>As the General had been speaking the first +few words of his contemptuous summing up +Morrison saw where they would lead and his +manhood instantly leaped up in reply.</p> + +<p>"I trusted, not the spy, but <i>Herbert Cary</i>," +he said with honest courage. Then, as the +General turned his back on him with a contemptuous +snap of his fingers—</p> + +<p>"General! I have offered no defense. If +the justice of court-martial law prescribes a +firing squad—I find no fault. I failed. I +pay."</p> + +<p>With a gesture which indicated Gary the +disgraced officer of the Army of the Potomac +shot out his one and only defense of +his action—at an unyielding back.</p> + +<p>"I took this man—hunted—wounded—fighting +to reach the side of a hungry child. +I captured him and, by the rules of war, I was +about to have him shot. Then he asked me to +get his little girl safely to Richmond, and not +to let her know—about him."</p> + +<p>"And she believed in <i>me</i>. <i>Trusted</i> me—even +as I trusted Herbert Cary to pierce the +very center of your lines—as a father—not a +spy!"</p> + +<p>From behind the unyielding back came a +statement of fact, firm and pitiless.</p> + +<p>"And it cost you your sword—your life."</p> + +<p>Morrison centered his eyes on the back of +the General's head and sent his answer home +with all the power of his voice and spirit.</p> + +<p>"<i>And I have no regret</i>" he said. "In the +duty of a military servant—I have failed. +But my prisoner still lives! I could <i>not</i> accept +the confidence of his child—the trust of +innocence—a baby's kiss—with the blood of +her father on my hands!" He dropped his +hands and half turned away.</p> + +<p>The General turned, a little at a time—first +his head and then his shoulders.</p> + +<p>"A very pretty sentiment," he remarked +dryly. "But you seem to forget that we are +not making love but <i>war</i>."</p> + +<p>With a supreme burst of anger at his helplessness +before the brute forces which would +presently send him forth to the firing squad, +Morrison wheeled on his commanding general +and flared forth with his last reply.</p> + +<p>"Yes, <i>war</i>! And the hellish laws that govern +it. But there is another law—<i>Humanity</i>! +Through a trooper in my command the home +of an enemy was turned to ashes—his loved +ones flung out to starve. When a helpless tot +had lost its mother and a father would protect +it, then <i>war</i> demands that I smash a baby's +one last hope—in the name of the Stars and +Stripes. And then—to march back home, to +a happy, triumphant North—and meet <i>my</i> +baby—with the memory of a butcher in my +heart—<i>By Heaven, sir! I'd rather hang!</i>"</p> + +<p>For a moment General and Colonel regarded +each other fixedly and then the General +turned away to pace the floor. Presently +he came to his decision and walked slowly back +to his desk.</p> + +<p>"Lieutenant Harris," he said in tones whose +significance could not be misunderstood, "I +was right. You have wasted your time—and +mine."</p> + +<p>Then he sighed wearily and made a last gesture +to Forbes.</p> + +<p>"<i>The guard</i>" he said.</p> + +<p>It was all over.</p> + +<p>And then, to the ears of the two prisoners +who stood looking at one another with sad +eyes, came a sound which made both men +start and look again with apprehension written +on their faces—the shrill scream of a child +who is being kept from something she has set +her heart upon. Another moment and there +was a rush of tiny feet in the hall, whereupon +the two sentries crossed their rifles across the +doorway. But what might have proved a serious +obstruction for a man was only an absurdity +to a child's quick wit and Virgie, with a +little duck of her sunny head, dodged quickly +under the muskets and charged, flushed and +panting, on the General's desk.</p> + +<p>"You shan't shoot Colonel Morrison," cried +this astonishing new comer in tones of shrill +command as she stamped her little foot: +"I won't let you! You shan't! You +shan't!"</p> + +<p>A moment of displeased surprise on the +part of the General. Then—</p> + +<p>"Take the child out of here," he ordered.</p> + +<p>"I won't <i>go</i>!" answered Virgie, tossing her +curls back and standing her ground with' +angry eyes.</p> + +<p>"Orderly!" called the General.</p> + +<p>With a whirl Virgie dashed away from the +desk, eluded the orderly and threw herself into +her father's arms.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Daddy, Daddy! You won't let him +shoot the Colonel. Daddy, you won't! You +won't!" She burst into a passionate flood of +tears.</p> + +<p>Cary lifted his hand to the General in a plea +for a moment's respite from force.</p> + +<p>"General—please. She'll go."</p> + +<p>He turned to the sobbing child and shook +her gently. "Virgie! Virgie! Listen, honey! +<i>Remember General Lee!</i>" The bowed head +rose from her father's shoulder; the little +shoulders stiffened, and eye to eye she looked +into the face of Cary as his pleading voice went +on: "<i>He</i> wouldn't want you to cry like this. +He said—'She's a brave little soldier to stay +there all alone. Dixie and I are <i>proud</i> of +her.'"</p> + +<p>The Littlest Rebel's chin went up, and she +bravely choked back her sobs. If this was +what her General wanted, this her General +would have, though childhood's sobs are hard +to check when a little heart is aching for the +pain of those she loves.</p> + +<p>"Go now, darling," her father pleaded. +"Go."</p> + +<p>She kissed him, and turned in silent, slow +obedience, casting a scowl at the grim and +silent General Grant, then moved toward the +guarded door.</p> + +<p>"Wait!" said a quiet voice.</p> + +<p>"Harris! They say that fools and children +speak the truth." He paused and then said +gently: "Come here, little girl. Come here +and talk to me."</p> + +<p>Somewhat in fear now that the kind voice +robbed her of her anger the little pale faced +child choked down her sobs and came slowly +forward to the desk. But, as she stood there, +her courage returned and, marvel of marvels, +her tiny hand went up in imitation of a salute.</p> + +<p>Grant dropped his chin in his hand so that +their heads were nearly on a level across his +desk and looked at her with gentle kindness +in his eyes.</p> + +<p>"The Littlest Rebel, eh?" he said in low +tones. "How old are you?"</p> + +<p>"S-s-s-even. Goin' on eight," responded +Virgie, gulping down a sob and nervously fingering +her tattered dress.</p> + +<p>"Ah, yes," he nodded. "And do you know +the uniform of a Union officer—when you see +it?"</p> + +<p>Virgie's small mouth dropped open at the +absurdity of the question and she almost +laughed.</p> + +<p>"A Yankee?" she queried with scorn. +"Well, I reckon I <i>ought</i> to—by <i>this</i> time."</p> + +<p>"Very good," the brown bearded man +nodded, and gently blew smoke at the ceiling. +"Now, tell me. When you lived at +home—and afterwards in your cabin—did +your father come to see you often?"</p> + +<p>Virgie's sunny head nodded in emphatic +asseveration. "Yes, sir. Often."</p> + +<p>"<i>How</i> often?" asked the bearded man.</p> + +<p>Virgie's fingers twisted themselves deep in +her dress.</p> + +<p>"I—I don't know, sir. But heaps of +times."</p> + +<p>"Good again," and the questioner actually +smiled. "When your father came, did he ever +wear clothes that—that were not his own?"</p> + +<p>Virgie turned a side-long look on her father +but, as he could not help, her puzzled eyes +went back to the General.</p> + +<p>"Well—well, lots of our men don't have +hardly <i>any</i> clo's," she said pathetically.</p> + +<p>Another smile broke the sternness of the +General's face.</p> + +<p>"That isn't what I mean," he explained +gently. "Did he ever wear a coat of blue—a +<i>Yankee</i> uniform?"</p> + +<p>"<i>General</i>!" broke in Harris.</p> + +<p>"Lieutenant!" Grant frowned. He turned +back to Virgie and coaxed her a little.</p> + +<p>"Well? Tell me!"</p> + +<p>With one bare big toe twisted under her +foot and fingers interlocked in agony the child +turned a look of pure anguish on her silent, +grave faced father. This was torture—and +she could not escape.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Daddy, Daddy!" she burst forth with +a wail of tragedy in her voice. "<i>What must +I tell him</i>?"</p> + +<p>The father's lips, which had been closed +against the pain that racked him, softened with +the perfect trust which went into his gentle +command.</p> + +<p>"The <i>truth</i>, Virgie. Whatever the General +asks."</p> + +<p>The General's observant eyes rested on the +proud Southerner for an instant, noted that +his face was quite without anxiety, then went +back to the little child.</p> + +<p>"Well, did he?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"Y-y-y-es, sir," answered Virgie with a +gulp.</p> + +<p>The General nodded and his face grew grave +again.</p> + +<p>"I wonder if you even know what it means. +A <i>spy</i>!"</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir," said the Littlest Rebel, and +dropped her eyes.</p> + +<p>"Hm. And do you remember how many +times he came that way?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir," came the instant answer, and she +threw up her head. "<i>Once</i>."</p> + +<p>"<i>Once?</i>" echoed the General, surprised. +"Are you sure?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir," she answered. She drew herself +up proudly, forgetting the poor, tattered dress, +and her clear eyes rested fearlessly on two +others that read through them down into the +pure whiteness of her soul.</p> + +<p>"<i>Think!</i>" said the quiet voice again, while +the perspiration started out on the forehead +of more than one listener. "And remember +what your father said just now. When was +it?"</p> + +<p>Again the fearless eyes of the child, the +Littlest Rebel of them all, rose to the gaze +of the man whose iron heel was crushing them +into the ground and she made her answer—as +crystal clear and truthful as if she stood before +the Throne on the last great day.</p> + +<p>"When—when Daddy came through the +woods an'—an' put my mamma in the ground."</p> + +<p>There was a silence. No one moved. Outside +in the trees and bushes the song the summer +insects were singing suddenly burst upon, +their ears and the myriad noises of the camp, +hitherto unnoticed, became a veritable clamor, +so complete was the stillness in the room. +Everyone except, perhaps, the child herself +realized the vital importance of her answer +and now that it had been given the crisis had +passed. The Littlest Rebel had put an end to +questioning. An audible sigh went up from +everyone except the man behind the desk.</p> + +<p>This one turned his head slowly towards the +Confederate prisoner.</p> + +<p>"Captain Cary, is this true?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, General," came the straightforward +answer. "I went to your nearest post with a +flag of truce and asked permission to go to my +dead wife. I was refused. I went <i>without</i> +permission."</p> + +<p>General Grant rose to his feet. Centering +the other's eyes with his own he spoke to him +as one officer speaks to another when he expects +the truth and nothing but the truth.</p> + +<p>"And you give me your word, as a soldier +and a gentleman, that once—once <i>only</i>—you +wore a Federal uniform and that because of +the burial of your wife?"</p> + +<p>"I do," answered Herbert Cary, a rebel to +the last. "And that was the only cause in +heaven or hell that could have <i>induced</i> me to +wear it!"</p> + +<p>For a moment the Commander of the Army +of the Potomac surveyed the still defiant +prisoner, then turned his back and walked to +the window where he tossed away a much +chewed cigar, meantime thinking out his last +analysis.</p> + +<p>Here was a man who had been hunted tirelessly +month after month as a rebel spy. It +was true that he was a spy and true that he +had worn a uniform of blue. Yet the fact had +been established—by the spotless honesty of a +little child—that he had worn the uniform only +so that he might reach his home and bury his +dead. And—went on the cool, quiet mind—since +the man was <i>not</i> a spy how could a Union +officer be executed for assisting a <i>spy</i> to escape?</p> + +<p>Coming back to his desk again the General +picked out another smoke, felt of it thoughtfully, +sniffed at it, then raised his quiet eyes.</p> + +<p>"Lieutenant-Colonel Morrison," he said in +clear, incisive tones, "<i>go back to your command!</i>"</p> + +<p>Five words. Five short, plain words, yet +they made all the difference between a firing +squad and a chance at life again. There was +a silence—then a gasp from Morrison's dry +throat. At the sound of his title—at the +sound of that blessed order which, by right of +supreme power, instantly restored him to his +rank, the Union officer leaped to his feet with +a cry of joy. But it was not even for those +around him in that little room to know the +wonderful vista of happiness which opened up +again before the eyes which only a moment ago +had been doomed to close in the sleep of a disgraceful +death.</p> + +<p>The General's hand went up in a gesture +which checked his gratitude.</p> + +<p>"The <i>next</i> time you are forced to decide +between military duty and humanity—think +twice!"</p> + +<p>He turned to his desk and took up a small +piece of paper, crumpled and torn.</p> + +<p>"Captain Cary," he said, "I sincerely regret +that I cannot honor the pass as given you by +Colonel Morrison," and he turned the paper +over, "but I do honor the pass of your General—R.E. +Lee."</p> + +<p>He folded the paper and held it out to Cary +who came forward as if in a dream. Then +the General turned his back again and began +to rummage on his desk. The incident was +closed.</p> + +<p>But there was a rush of bare, childish feet +sand before he could escape Virgie's brown +little arms were round him and her dimpled +chin was pressed against his waist.</p> + +<p>The General made no effort to release himself +but looked down on her with a softer light +in his face than any of his men had seen there +in many months.</p> + +<p>"And as for you, young lady, the next time +you pervert my officers and upset the discipline +of the Federal Army—well, I don't know +<i>what</i> I'll do with you."</p> + +<p>He looked down into her face and read there +a wistful feminine appeal for outward and visible +reconciliation.</p> + +<p>"Oh, well," he said with mock resignation, +"I suppose I've got to do it," and he stooped +and kissed her. Then he took up his campaign +hat and walked towards the door.</p> + +<p>Behind him the child in her tattered dress +and bare brown legs stood still and threw out +her arms to him in a last soft-voiced good-by.</p> + +<p>"Thank you, Gen'ral," called the Littlest +Rebel, with the light of heaven in her eyes. +"Thank you for Daddy and Colonel Morrison +and <i>me</i>. You're another mighty good damn +Yankee!"</p> + +<p>And then, with a cry of surpassing joy and +love, she rushed back to where the two men +waited for her on their knees.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_X" id="CHAPTER_X"></a>CHAPTER X</h2> + + +<p>In the shade of a fringe of trees that edged +the river bank a troop of cavalry was drawn +up in one long, thin line. Knee to knee, the +silent, blue-coated riders sat, waiting, waiting—not +for a charge upon the enemy, or orders +for a foray through an already harried land. +They waited for a leader—a man who had led +them through the heat and cold, through peaceful +valleys and the bloody ruck of battle; a +man whom they loved and trusted, fearing him +only when they shirked a duty or disobeyed the +iron laws of war.</p> + +<p>This man had been taken from them, himself +a servant who had disobeyed these laws, +his sword dishonored, his shoulder straps +ripped off before their eyes. And now the +troopers waited—and for what? An order +had come which put them on review, a long +thin line of horsemen waiting on the river +bank, while the sun beat down on the parched +red fields, and the waters of the muddy James +lazed by as they murmured their sad, low song.</p> + +<p>The troopers were silent—waiting. A horse +stamped idly in the dust, and a saber rattled +against a booted leg. A whisper ran down +the line. The eyes of the men turned slowly +at the sight of a single rider who advanced +from the distant Union camp. He did not +take the dusty road which swept in a wide, +half-circle to where the waiting troopers sat +in line, but jumped a low worm-fence and +came straight across the fields.</p> + +<p>An officer he was, erect in his saddle, chin +up and shoulders squared. On his shoulders +his straps had been replaced, and his saber +rattled against his thigh to the rise and fall of +his horse's stride.</p> + +<p>Straight on he came till he checked his +mount before the center of the waiting line, +and the troopers knew that Lieutenant-Colonel +Morrison had once more come into his own.</p> + +<p>Their sabers rasped from out the scabbards +and rose in a joyous, swift salute, while Morrison's +once dishonored sword acknowledged it.</p> + +<p>"<i>'Tention</i> ...<i>company!</i>"</p> + +<p>The long line stiffened and waited for their +officer to speak; yet the voice was not the voice +of an officer in command, but that of a comrade +and a friend.</p> + +<p>"Thank you, boys! It's good to be back +again." He swallowed something in his +throat and struggled manfully to speak in even +tones. "I must ask you to be quiet—and not +to—"</p> + +<p>He stopped. Again his troop had disobeyed +him—disobeyed him to a man. A +shout went up, deep, joyous and uncontrolled, +its echoes pulsing out across the hot, red fields +till it reached the distant camp; and Grant +looked up from a war map's crisscross lines, +grunted, and lit a fresh cigar.</p> + +<p>And Lieutenant-Colonel Morrison sat his +horse before his cheering line of men, silent, +happy, while two tears rolled, unheeded, down +his cheek—a soldier and a man!</p> + +<p>His tenderness to a little child had torn him +from his saddle and doomed him to disgrace +and death; and then, one line from her baby +lips had mounted him again and set him before +his troopers on parade.</p> + +<p>"<i>It was when ... Daddy came through the +woods ... and put my mamma ... in the +ground</i>."</p> + +<p>Two lives she had held—in her little hands—and +had saved them both with a dozen words +of simple, unfaltering truth.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>On the dusty pike which led to Virginia's +capital another rider plodded through the +heat and haze. His coat, once gray, now hung +in mud-stained tatters about his form, but beneath +his battered campaign hat his thin, pale +features were smoothed by a smile of happiness.</p> + +<p>Behind his saddle, one hand gripped tightly +in a rent in the soiled gray coat, sat still +another Rebel—the smallest of them all—her +tiny legs stretched out almost straight on the +horse's wide, fat back.</p> + +<p>"Daddy—how far is it to Richmon' now?"</p> + +<p>The rider turned his head and pointed north.</p> + +<p>"It's close now, honey. See that line of +hills? That's Richmond. A mile or two and +we'll be at home."</p> + +<p>Again they plodded on, past fields of shriveled +corn whose stalks stood silently in parched +and wilted lines—lines that were like the ranks +of the doomed Confederacy—its stalks erect, +yet sapped of the juice of life. Where +orchards once had flourished their rotted +branches now hid mouths of rifle pits, and low, +red clay entrenchments stretched across the +fields.</p> + +<p>"Daddy," broke out a piping voice, "don't +you think we'd better make this Yankee horse +get up a little? 'Cause—'cause somethin' <i>else</i> +might happen before we get there."</p> + +<p>"It's all right, Virgie," her father answered, +with a pat on her small, brown knee. "These +lines are ours, and I reckon we are safe at +last."</p> + +<p>They were. Two Rebels on a Yankee horse +soon made their triumphant entry into Richmond. +They passed through Rockets, by the +half-deserted wharves on the river bank where +a crippled gunboat lay, then clattered over the +cobble stones up Main Street till they reached +the Square. On the State House the Stars +and Bars still floated; but the travelers did not +pause. Northward they turned, then westward +again, till they stopped at last before a +silent, stately mansion, the headquarters of +their General—General Lee.</p> + +<p>Before the open door two sentries stood, but +as Cary and his charge dismounted an orderly +came down the steps and out of the iron gate. +A word or two from Cary and the orderly disappeared +into the house, returning soon with +word that the visitors would be received—at +once.</p> + +<p>Up the stone steps went Virgie, holding +tightly to her father's hand, for now, as she +neared her General, her little heart was pounding, +and her breath came eagerly and fast.</p> + +<p>On the threshold of a dim and shaded room +they paused and looked. He sat there, at a +table strewn with war maps and reports—a +tall gray man in a coat of gray—the soldier +and the gentleman.</p> + +<p>As father and child came in he rose to meet +them, looking at the two with eyes that seemed +to hold the sadness and the tenderness of all +the world.</p> + +<p>He knew their story; in fact, he had bent his +every effort to the saving of Cary's life. He +had sent a courier to the camp of General +Grant below the city, asking a stay of sentence +till the facts in the case were cleared; and only +a half hour before his courier had returned +with news of the prisoner's release.</p> + +<p>And now, as he advanced and gave a courtly +welcome to his trusted scout, the hand of the +Littlest Rebel once more went up in salute to +a superior officer.</p> + +<p>"Gen'ral," she said, as she stole a glance at +her father's smiling face, "I've brought him +back—with—with the pass you gave me, sir."</p> + +<p>And the General stooped—six feet of him—till +his lips were on a level with Virgie's lips; +then folded her closely into his great gray +arms.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="THE_END" id="THE_END"></a>THE END</h2> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="PEACE" id="PEACE"></a>PEACE<br /><br />1</h2> + + +<p> +Hushed is the rolling drum. The bugle's note<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Breathes but an echo of its martial blast;</span><br /> +The proud old flags, in mourning silence, float<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Above the heroes of a buried past.</span><br /> +Frail ivy vines 'round rusting cannon creep;<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">The tattered pennants droop against the wall;</span><br /> +The war-worn warriors are sunk in sleep,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Beyond a summons of the trumpet's call.</span><br /> +<br /> +Do ye still dream, ye voiceless, slumbering ones,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Of glories gained through struggles fierce and long,</span><br /> +Lulled by the muffled boom of ghostly guns<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">That weave the music of a battle-song?</span><br /> +In fitful flight do misty visions reel,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">While restless chargers toss their bridle-reins?</span><br /> +When down the lines gleam points of polished steel,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And phantom columns flood the sun-lit plains?</span><br /> +<br /> +A breathless hush! A shout that mounts on high<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Till every hoary hill from sleep awakes!</span><br /> +Swift as the unleashed lightning cleaves the sky,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">The tumbling, tempest-rush of battle breaks!</span><br /> +The smoke-wreathed cannon launch their hell-winged shells!<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">The rattling crash of musketry's sharp sound</span><br /> +Sinks in the deafening din of hoarse, wild yells<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And squadrons charging o'er the trampled ground!</span><br /> +<br /> +Down, down they rush! The cursing riders reel<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">'Neath tearing shot and savage bayonet-thrust;</span><br /> +A plunging charger stamps with iron heel<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">His dying master in the battle's dust.</span><br /> +The shrill-tongued notes of victory awake!<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">The black guns thunder back the shout amain!</span><br /> +In crimson-crested waves the columns break,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Like shattered foam, across the shell-swept plain.</span><br /> +<br /> +A still form lies upon the death-crowned hill,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">With sightless eyes, gray lips that may not speak.</span><br /> +His dead hand holds his shot-torn banner still—<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Its proud folds pressed against his bloodstained cheek.</span><br /> +<br /> +O slumbering heroes, cease to dream of war!<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Let hatreds die behind the tread of years.</span><br /> +Forget the past, like some long-vanished scar<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Whose smart is healed in drops of falling tears.</span><br /> +Keep, keep your glory; but forget the strife!<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Roll up your battle-flags so stained and torn!</span><br /> +Teach, teach our hearts, that still dream on in life,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">To let the dead past sleep with those we mourn!</span><br /> +<br /> +From pitying Heaven a pitying angel came.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Smiling, she bade the tongues of conflict cease.</span><br /> +Her wide wings fanned away the smoke and flame,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Hushed the red battle's roar. God called her Peace.</span><br /> +From land and sea she swept mad passion's glow;<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Yet left a laurel for the hero's fame.</span><br /> +She whispered hope to hearts in grief bowed low,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And taught our lips, in love, to shape her name.</span><br /> +<br /> +She sheathed the dripping sword; her soft hands pres't<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Grim foes apart, who scowled in anger deep.</span><br /> +She laid two grand old standards down to rest,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And on her breast rocked weary War to sleep.</span><br /> +Peace spreads her pinions wide from South to North;<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Dead enmity within the grave is laid.</span><br /> +The church towers ring their holy anthems forth,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">To hush the thunders of the cannonade.</span><br /> +<br /> +EDWARD PEPLE.<br /> +</p> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Littlest Rebel, by Edward Peple + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE LITTLEST REBEL *** + +***** This file should be named 15414-h.htm or 15414-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/1/5/4/1/15414/ + +Produced by Suzanne Lybarger, Josephine Paolucci and the +PG Online Distributed Proofreading Team. + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Littlest Rebel + +Author: Edward Peple + +Release Date: March 19, 2005 [EBook #15414] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE LITTLEST REBEL *** + + + + +Produced by Suzanne Lybarger, Josephine Paolucci and the +PG Online Distributed Proofreading Team. + + + + + + +The + +LITTLEST REBEL + +By + +EDWARD PEPLE + +GROSSET & DUNLAP: _Publishers_ + +NEW YORK + +Copyright, 1914 By the ESTATE OF EDWARD H. PEPLE + +ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. NO PART OF THIS BOOK MAY BE REPRODUCED IN ANY FORM +WITHOUT PERMISSION IN WRITING FROM THE PUBLISHER. + +_Printed in the United States of America_ + + + + +FOREWORD + + +The play, from which this book is written, was in no sense of the word +intended as a war drama; for war is merely its background, and always in +the center stands a lonely little child. + +War is its theme but not its purpose. War breeds hatred, horror, +pestilence and famine, yet from its tears and ashes eventually must rise +the clean white spirit of HUMANITY. + +The enmity between North and South is dead; it sleeps with the fathers +and the sons, the brothers and the lovers, who died in a cause which +each believed was just. + +Therefore this story deals, not with the right or wrong of a lost +confederacy, but with the mercy and generosity, the chivalry and +humanity which lived in the hearts of the Blue and Gray, a noble +contrast to the grim brutality of war. + + * * * * * + +The author is indebted to Mr. E.S. Moffat, who has novelized the play +directly from its text, with the exception of that portion which +appeared as a short story under the same title several years ago, +treating of Virgie in the overseer's cabin, and the endorsing of her +pass by Lieutenant-Colonel Morrison. + +EDWARD PEPLE. + + + + +THE LITTLEST REBEL + + + + +CHAPTER I + + +Young Mrs. Herbert Cary picked up her work basket and slowly crossed the +grass to a shady bench underneath the trees. She must go on with her +task of planning a dress for Virgie. But the prospect of making her +daughter something wearable out of the odds and ends of nothing was not +a happy one. In fact, she was still poking through her basket and +frowning thoughtfully when a childish voice came to her ears. + +"Yes, Virgie! Here I am. Out under the trees." + +Immediately came a sound of tumultuous feet and Miss Virginia Houston +Cary burst upon the scene. She was a tot of seven with sun touched hair +and great dark eyes whose witchery made her a piquant little fairy. In +spite of her mother's despair over her clothes Virgie was dressed, or +at least had been dressed at breakfast time, in a clean white frock, low +shoes and white stockings, although all now showed signs of strenuous +usage. Clutched to her breast as she ran up to her mother's side was +"Susan Jemima," her one beloved possession and her doll. Behind Virgie +came Sally Ann, her playmate, a slim, barefooted mulatto girl whose +faded, gingham dress hung partly in tatters, halfway between her knees +and ankles. In one of Sally Ann's hands, carried like a sword, was a +pointed stick; in the other, a long piece of blue wood-moss from which +dangled a bit of string. + +"Oh, Mother," cried the small daughter of the Carys, as she came up +flushed and excited, "what do you reckon Sally Ann and me have been +playing out in the woods!" + +"What, dear!" and Mrs. Cary's gentle hand went up to lift the hair back +from her daughter's dampened forehead. + +"_Blue Beard_!" cried Virgie, with rounded eyes. + +"Blue Beard!" echoed her mother in astonishment at this childish freak +of amusement. + +"Not really--on this hot day." + +"Um, hum," nodded Virgie emphatically. "You know he--he--he was the +terriblest old man that--that ever was. An' he had so many wifses +that--" + +"Say 'wives,' my darling. _Wives_." + +Sally Ann laughed and Virgie frowned. + +"Well, I _thought_ it was that, but Sally Ann's older'n me and she said +'wifses.'" + +"Huh," grunted Sally Ann. "Don' make no differ'nce what you call 'em, +des so he had 'em. Gor'n tell her." + +"Well, you know, Mother, Blue Beard had such a bad habit of killin' his +wives that--that some of the ladies got so they--they almost didn't like +to marry him!" + +"Gracious, what a state of affairs," cried Mrs. Cary, in well feigned +amazement at the timidity of the various Mrs. Blue Beards. "And then--" + +"Well, the last time he got married to--to another one--her name was +Mrs. Fatima. An'--an' I've been playin' _her_." + +"And who played Blue Beard?" + +"Sally Ann--an' she's just fine. Come here, Sally Ann, an' let's show +her. Kneel down." + +Clutching the piece of moss from Sally Ann, Virgie ran behind the girl +and put her chubby arms around her neck. "This is his blue beard, +Mother. Hold still, Sally Ann--_My lord_, I mean--till I get it tied in +the right place." + +"Be keerful, Miss Virgie," advised the colored girl. "You's a-ticklin' +my nose. I'se gwine to sneeze ef yo' don't, and jes blow my beard all +away." + +"Oh, don't be such a baby," remonstrated the earnest Miss Virginia, with +a correcting slap. "S'pose you were a man an' had to wear one all the +time. Now! Stand up! Look, Mother!" + +"I'm afraid of him already. He's so ferocious." + +"Isn't he? Oh, won't _you_ play with us, Mother? I'll--I'll let you be +Mrs. Fatima." And then, as her mother's face showed signs of doubt as to +her histrionic ability, "If you were _my_ little girl, I'd do it in a +minute." + +"All right, dear, of course I will; but I've just remembered a bit of +lace in your grandmother's trunk in the attic. I believe it will be +exactly enough for the neck and sleeves of your new dress." She smiled +courageously as she folded a piece of old silk she was remaking. "You +and--" she cast a glance at Sally Ann--"your respected brother-in-law +can wait a few moments, can't you? You might rehearse a little more. +With all this important audience of solemn oaks you wouldn't want to +make the slightest slip in your parts." + +"That's so," agreed Virgie, raising her hands and clasping her tiny +fingers thoughtfully. "And I'll tell you what--we'll mark off the castle +walls around the bench where the window's going to be. We ought to have +a stage. Come on Sal--I mean Blue Beard, pick up some sticks quick." + +Mrs. Cary started, but turned back an instant: "By the way, have either +of you seen Uncle Billy. I' must find him, too, and plan something for +our lunch." + +"I seen 'im early dis mawnin'," piped Blue Beard, "makin' for de woods. +I reckon he be back pres'n'y." + +"Very well," answered Virgie's mother, a shadow creeping into her face +as she went on toward the house. Could Uncle Billy possibly be leaving! +The most trusted negro of all! No--_never_! She would almost as soon +doubt the cause itself! + +Three long years ago war had seemed a thrilling, daring necessity. +Caught in the dreadful net of circumstance she had vowed proudly in her +own heart never to be less brave than the bravest. In her ears still +rang the echo of that first ... + + * * * * * + +_Tara-tara!_ + +From far away a faint fanfare of trumpets, borne on brazen wings from +the distant clamor of the city's streets. + +_Tara-tara!_ + +"What's that--a bugle?" + +_R-r-r-r-rum-dum!_ + +"And that--a drum?" + +_Tramp--tramp--tramp_--the rolling thunder of ten thousand feet. + +_War has been declared!_ + +From North to South, the marching lines fill the land--a sea of men +whose flashing bayonets glisten and glitter in the morning light. With +steady step and even rank, with thrill of brass lunged band and +screaming fife the regiments sweep by--in front, the officers on their +dancing steeds--behind them, line after line of youthful faces, chins +in, chests out, the light of victory already shining in their eyes. + +In just this way the Nation's sons went forth to fight in those first +brave days of '61. Just so they marched out, defiant, from South and +North alike, each side eager for the cause he thought was right, with +bright pennons snapping in the breeze and bugles blowing gayly and never +a thought in any man's mind but that _his_ side would win and his own +life be spared. + +And every woman, too, waving cheerful farewell to valiant lines of +marching gray or sturdy ranks of blue, had hoped the same for _her_ +side. + +But in war there is always a reckoning to pay. Always one contender +driven to the wall, his cities turned to ashes, his lands laid waste. +Always one depleted side which takes one last desperate stand in the +sight of blackened homes and outraged fields and fights on through ever +darkening days until the inevitable end is come. + +And the end of the Confederacy was now almost in sight. Three years of +fighting and the Seceding States had been cut in twain, their armies +widely separated by the Union hosts. Advancing and retreating but always +fighting, month after month, year after year the men in gray had come at +last to the bitterest period of it all--when the weakened South was +slowly breaking under the weight of her brother foes--when the two +greatest of the armies battled on Virginia soil--battled and passed to +their final muster roll. + +Of little need to tell of the privations which the pivotal state of the +Confederacy went through. If it were true that Virginia had been simply +one vast arsenal where every inhabitant had unfailingly done his part in +making war, it was also true that she had furnished many of its greatest +battlefields--and at what a frightful cost. + +Everywhere were the cruel signs of destruction and want--in scanty +larder, patched, refurbished clothing, servantless homes--in dismantled +outhouses, broken fences and neglected, brier-choked fields. Even the +staples of life were fast diminishing for every man who could shoulder +a gun had gone to fight with Lee, and few animals were left and fewer +slaves. + + * * * * * + +Yet, for all the dismal outlook, Winter had passed without actual +disaster to the Confederate arms and now that Spring had come the +plantation home of the Herbert Carys, twenty miles below Richmond, had +never had a fairer setting. White-pillared and stately the old Colonial +mansion stood on one of the low, emerald hills which roll back lazily +from the peaceful James. It was true that the flower beds had been +trampled down to ruin by alien horse and heel, but the scent of the +honeysuckle clinging to those shining pillars only seemed the sweeter +for the loss, and whatever else the forager might take, he could not rob +them of their gracious vista of hills and shimmering river. + +Across the broad driveway and up the steps of the veranda passed Mrs. +Cary, fairer than had been the flowers, a true daughter of the oldtime +South, gentle and quiet eyed, her light summer dress of the cheapest +material, yet deftly fashioned by her own fingers from slightly opened +neck, where an old brooch lay against her soft throat, down to the +dainty spotless flounces lying above her petticoat of crinoline. + +Though her lips and eyes refused to betray it even when there was no one +to see, it was with a very heavy heart that she mounted the stairs to +the attic, thinking, contriving, clutching desperately at her fading +hopes. + +For good reason the plantation was very silent on this warm spring +morning. Where only a year before dozens of soft eyed Jerseys had ranged +through the pastures and wood lots there was now no sound of tinkling +bells--one after another the fine, blooded stock had been requisitioned +by a sad faced quartermaster of the Army of Northern Virginia. And one +by one the fat porkers who had muzzled greedily among the ears from the +Cary bins and who ought to have gone into the smoke house had departed, +squealing, to furnish bone and sinew with which to repel the invader. +Saddest of all, the chicken coops down by the deserted negro quarters +were quite as empty as the once teeming cabins themselves. Poverty, grim +and relentless, had caught the Carys in its iron hand and behind +Poverty stood its far more frightening shadow--Starvation. + +But in these gloomy thoughts she was not entirely alone. All that +troubled her and more, though perhaps in a different way, passed hourly +through the old gray kinky head of Uncle Billy who happened at this very +moment to be emerging stealthily from the woods below the house. Slowly +and deliberately he made his way toward the front till he reached a +bench where he sat down under a tree to ruminate over the situation and +inspect the feathered prize which he had lately acquired by certain, +devious means known only to Uncle Billy. Wiping his forehead with his +ragged sleeve and holding the bird up by its tied feet he regarded it +with the eye of an expert, and the fatigue of one who has been sorely +put to it in order to accomplish his purpose. + +"It 'pears to me," said Uncle Billy, "dat des' when you needs 'em the +mostest the chickens goes to roosting higher 'n' higher. Rooster--I +wonder who you b'longs to. Um-_um_!" he murmured as he thoughtfully +sounded the rooster's well developed chest through the feathers. "From +de feelin' of you, my son, I 'spec' you was raise' by one er de ol'es' +fam'lies what is!" + +But Uncle Billy knew the fortunes of the Cary family far too well to +mourn over the probable toughness of his booty, and as he rose up from +the seat and meandered toward the kitchen, his old, wrinkled face broke +into a broad smile of satisfaction over the surprise he had in store. +"Well--after I done parbile you, I reckon Miss Hallie be mighty glad to +see you. Yas, _seh_!" + +But as Uncle Billy walked slowly along beside the hedge which shielded +the house on one side he heard a sound which made him halt. A young +negro, coming from the rear, had dodged behind the hedge and was trying +to keep out of his sight. + +"Hi, dar! You, Jeems Henry!" shouted Uncle Billy, instantly suspicious +of such maneuvers. "Come heh! Hear _me_! Come heh!" + +At this sudden command a young mulatto, hesitating, came through a break +in the hedge and stood looking at him, sullen and silent. In his hands +he carried a small bundle done up in a colored handkerchief and on this +guilty piece of baggage Uncle Billy's eye immediately fastened with an +angry frown. + +"Whar you gwine?" demanded Uncle Billy, with an accusing finger +trembling at the bundle. + +The younger man made no reply. + +"Hear _me_?" the elder demanded again in rising tones of severity. +"Ain't you got no tongue in yo' haid? Whar you gwine?" + +Shifting from one foot to the other the younger man finally broke away +from Uncle Billy's eye and tried to pass him by. + +"Den _I'll_ tell you whar you gwine," shouted Uncle Billy, furious at +last. "You's runnin' 'way to de Yankees, dat's whar you gwine." + +At this too truthful thrust Jeems Henry saw that further deceit would be +futile and he faced Uncle Billy with sullen resentment. + +"An' s'posin' I _is_--wat den?" + +"Den you's a thief," retorted Uncle Billy with dismayingly quick wit. +"Dat's what you is--a _thief_." + +"I _ain'_ no thief," Jeems Henry refuted stubbornly, "_I_ ain' stole +nothin'." + +"You is too," and Uncle Billy's forefinger began to shake in the +other's face. "You's stealin' a _nigger_!" + +"What dat?" and Jeems Henry's eyes opened wide with amazement. "What you +talkin' 'bout?" + +"Talkin' 'bout _you_," replied Uncle Billy, sharper than ever. "Dey say +a nigger's wuth a thousan' dollars. 'Cose _you_ ain't wuth dat much," he +said with utter disgust. "I put you down at a dollar and a quarter. But +dat ain't de p'int," and he steadily advanced on the other till their +faces were only a few inches apart. "It's dis. _You_, Jeems Henry, +belongs to Mars' Herbert Cary an' Miss Hallie; an' when you runs 'way +you's stealin'. _You's stealin yo'sef!_" + +"H'm!" sniffed Jeems Henry, now that the nature and extent of his crime +were fully understood. "Ef I ain' wuth but a dollar an' a quarter, I +suttenly ain' stealin' _much_!" + +At this smart reply Uncle Billy's disgust overcame him completely and he +tossed the rooster on the ground and clutched Jeems Henry by the arm. + +"You mighty right, you ain't!" he shouted. "An' ef I was fo' years +younger I'd take it outer yo' hide with a carriage whip. Hol' on dar," +as Jeems Henry eluded his grasp and began to move away. "Which way you +gwine? You hear me? Now den!" + +"I gwine up de river," replied Jeems Henry, badgered at last into +revealing his plan. Then, after a cautious look around,--"to +Chickahominy Swamp," he added in lower tones. + +Uncle Billy cocked his ears. Here was news indeed. + +"Chickahominy, huh! So de Yankees is up dar, is dey? An' what you think +you gwine to do when you git to 'em?" + +"Wuck 'roun de camp," replied Jeems Henry with some vagueness. + +"Doin' what?" was the relentless query. + +"Blackin' de gent'men's boots--an'--an' gittin' paid fer it," Jeems +Henry stammered in reply. "It's better'n being a slave, Unc' Billy," he +added as he saw the sneer of contempt on the faithful old man's face. +"An' ef you wan' sech a crazy ol' fool, you'd come along wid me, too." + +At this combination of temptation and insult Uncle Billy's eyes narrowed +with contempt and loathing. "Me?" he said, and a rigid arm pointed back +at the house which had been for years his source of shelter and comfort. +"Me leave Miss Hallie _now_? Right when she ain't got _nothin_'? Look +heah, nigger; dog-gone yo' skin, I got a great min' for to mash yo' +mouf. Yas, I _is_ a slave. I b'longs to Mars Cary--an' I b'longed to his +pa befo' him. Dey feed me and gimme de bes' dey got. Dey take care of me +when I'm sick--an' dey take care of me when I'm well--an' _I_ gwine to +stay right here. But you? You jes' go on wid de Yankees, an' black der +boots. Dey'll free you," and Uncle Billy's voice rose in prophetic +tones--"an you'll _keep on_ blackin' boots! Go 'long now, you low-down, +dollar-an'-a-quarter nigger!" as Jeems Henry backed away. "Go long wid +yo' _Yankee_ marsters--and git yo' freedom an' a blackin' brush." + +So engrossed were both the actors in this drama that they failed to +hear the sound of footsteps on the veranda, and it was so that the +mistress of the manor found the would-be runaway and the old slave, +glaring into each other's eyes and insulting one another volubly. + +Mrs. Cary, with her workbasket on her arm, paused at the top of the +steps and regarded the angry pair with well-bred surprise. + +"Why, Uncle Billy," she queried, "what is going on here? What _is_ the +matter?" + +"It's Jeems Henry; dat's what's de matter," said Uncle Billy, in defense +of his agitation. "He's runnin' 'way to de Yankees." + +Mrs. Cary stopped short for a moment and then came slowly down the +steps. + +"Oh, James," she said, unbelievingly. "Is this really true?" + +Jeems Henry hung his head and dug at the gravel with his toe. + +"I'm sorry," said Mrs. Cary, and the word held a world of painful +thought--of self-accusation, of hopeless regret, of sorrow for one who +could be so foolishly misguided. "I'm sorry not only for ourselves but +for _you_. You know, I promised Mammy before she died that I would look +after you--always." + +Still Jeems Henry made no answer and old Uncle Billy saw fit to make a +disclosure. + +"He's gwine up to Chickahominy." Then to Jeems Henry he added something +in low tones which made the young negro's eyes roll wildly with fear. +"Dey tells me dat der's _hants_ and _ghoses_ over dar. I hopes dey'll +git you." + +"Stop that!" commanded Mrs. Cary. "You know very well, Uncle Billy, +there are no such things as ghosts." + +"Nor'm I don't, Miss Hallie," responded Uncle Billy, sticking +tenaciously to his point, because he could plainly see Jeems Henry +wavering. "'Twas jes las' night I hear one--moanin' 'roun' de smoke +house. An' ef I ain't mighty fur wrong, she was smellin' arfter Jeems +Henry." + +At this wild fabrication, the reason for which she nevertheless +appreciated, Mrs. Cary had hard work to hold back a smile, although she +promptly reassured the terrified Jeems Henry. + +"There now--there--that will do. Nothing of that kind will trouble you, +James; you may take my word for it. If you are quite determined to go I +shall not try to keep you. But what have you in that bundle?" + +"Hi! Hi! Dat's de way to talk!" interrupted Uncle Billy, excitedly +foreseeing means to prevent Jeems Henry's departure. "What you got in +yo' bundle?" + +Jeems Henry lifted his anguished eyes and gazed truthfully at his +mistress. + +"I ain't got nothin'--what don't b'long to me, Miss Hallie." + +"I don't mean that," Mrs. Cary responded kindly. "But you have a long +tramp before you. Have you anything to eat?" + +"Nor'm, I ain't," and Jeems Henry seemed disturbed. + +"Then you'd better come around to the kitchen. We'll see what we can +find." + +At this unheard-of generosity, Uncle Billy's eyes opened widely and he +exploded in remonstrance. + +"Now, hol' on dar, Miss Hallie! Hol' on. You ain' got none too much fo' +yo'se'f, d'out stuffin' dis yere six-bit rat hole wid waffles an' +milasses." + +"_William!_" commanded his mistress. + +"Yas'm," was the meek response, and Uncle Billy subsided into silence. + +With a sigh, Mrs. Cary turned away toward the house. "Well, James, are +you coming?" + +But Jeems Henry, completely abashed before this miracle of kindness +which he did not deserve, decided that it was time for him to be a man. + +"Thank you, Miss Hallie," he gulped, "but f'um now on I reckon I gwine +take keer of myse'f." + +Mrs. Cary, pausing on the bottom step, raised her eyes heavenward in a +short prayer that children such as these might somehow be protected from +themselves. + +"Well, James," she said, when she saw there was nothing more to be done. +"I hope you'll be happy and contented. If you are not--come back to us. +Perhaps, when the war is over, you'll find things a little +more--comfortable. Good-by, James," and she held out her hand. + +But this last touch of gentleness was too much for the young mulatto. +Although he made an obedient step forward, his feelings overcame him and +with an audible snuffle and his hand over his eyes he retreated--then +turned his back and plunged through the hedge. + +Mrs. Cary sank down on the step and looked as if she, too, would like to +cry. + +Manfully, Uncle Billy came to her rescue. "Now don't you care, Miss +Hallie. He wan' no 'count for plowin' no how." + +"Oh, it isn't that, Uncle Billy," Mrs. Cary replied with a low cry of +regret. "It isn't the actual loss of help, tho' we need it, goodness +knows. But it makes me sad to see them leaving, one by one. They are +such children and so helpless--without a master hand." + +"Yas'm," agreed Uncle Billy readily. "An' de marster's han' ought to +have a hick'ry stick in it fer _dat_ nigger. Yas, bless Gawd. But you +got _me_, Miss Hallie," he announced proudly. "_I_ ain't runned away to +de blue-bellies yet." + +"No, you dear old thing," Mrs. Cary cried with laughing relief, and her +hand rested on his shoulder in a gentle caress. "I'd as soon think of +the skies falling. It is just such faithful friends as you who help me +to fight the best." + +"Um?" said Uncle Billy promptly, not quite understanding. + +"I mean a woman's battles, Uncle Billy--the _waiting_ battles--that we +fight alone." Mrs. Gary rose to her feet and turned sadly away. + +"Yas'm," agreed Uncle Billy. "I dunno what yo' talkin' 'bout but I spec' +you's right. Yas'm." + +"Dear Uncle Billy," repeated Mrs. Gary, while her eyes filled with +tears. "The most truthful--the most _honest_--" + +Mrs. Cary stopped and looked sharply at something lying on the ground +beside the steps. Then she turned and swept the old man with an accusing +glance which made him quail. + +"_William!_" she said, in awful tones. + +"Yas'm," replied Uncle Billy, feverishly. + +"What's _that_?" + +Uncle Billy immediately became the very picture of innocence and +ignorance. He looked everywhere but at the helpless rooster. + +"What's what?" he asked. "Aw, dat? Why--why, dat ain' nothin' 'tall, +Miss Hallie. Dat's--dat's des a _rooster_. Yas'm." + +Mrs. Cary came down from the steps and looked carefully at the +unfamiliar bird. No fear that she would not recognize it if it were +hers. "Whose is he?" she asked. + +"You--you mean who he b'longs to?" queried Uncle Billy, fencing for time +in which to prepare a quasi-truthful reply. "He--he don' b'long to +_nobody_. He's his _own_ rooster." + +"William!" commanded Mrs. Cary, severely. "Look at me. _Where_ did you +get him?" + +Here was a situation which Uncle Billy knew must be handled promptly, +and he picked up the rooster and made an attempt to escape. "Down on de +low grouns--dis mornin'. Dat's right," he said, as he saw dawning +unbelief in his mistress' face. "Now you have to skuse me, Miss Hallie. +I got my wuck to do." + +"One moment, William," interposed Mrs. Cary, completely unconvinced. +"You are sure he was on the low grounds?" + +"Cose I is!" asseverated Uncle Billy, meanwhile backing farther away. + +"What was he doing there?" + +Uncle Billy stammered. + +"He--he--he, he was trespassin', dat's what he was doin'--des natcherly +trespassin'." + +At this marvel of testimony, Mrs. Cary's lips relaxed in a smile and she +warned him with an upraised finger. + +"Be careful, Uncle Billy! Be careful." + +"Yas, _mar'm_" chuckled the old man. "I _had_ to be. I never would a-got +him! Oh, I's tellin' de trufe, Miss Hallie. Dis' here ol' sinner tooken +flewed off a boat what was comin' up de river. Yas'm. And he sure was +old enough to know better." + +"And you _saw_ him fly off the boat?" + +"Oh, yas'm. I seed him. I seed him," and Uncle Billy floundered for a +moment, caught in his own trap. "Dat is, not wid my own eyes. But I see +him settin' in de woods, lookin' dat lonesome and losted like, I felt +real sorry for him. Yas'm," and to prove his deep sympathy for the +unfortunate bird he stroked its breast lovingly. + +Mrs. Cary turned away to hide her laughter. "How did you catch him?" + +"How?" repeated Uncle Billy, while his ancient mind worked with unusual +rapidity. "I got down on all fo's in the thick weeds, an' cluk like a +hen. An' den ol' Mr. Rooster, he came 'long over to see ef I done laid +an aig--an' I des reach right out an' take him home to de Lawd." + +"Oh, Uncle Billy," his mistress laughed. "I'm afraid you're +incorrigible. It's a dreadful thing to doubt one's very dinner. Isn't +it?" + +"Yas'm. An' I was des 'bout to say ef you an' Miss Virgie kin worry down +de white meat, maybe den dis here bird 'll kinder git eben wid me when I +tackle his drum sticks. Yas'm," and with a final chuckle of joy over his +success the old man hobbled quickly away in the direction of the +kitchen. + +Mrs. Cary, still smiling, went back to play Mrs. Fatima to a dusky +moss-covered Blue Beard. + +"Oh goody, goody, here is Mrs. Fatima again!" and Virgie's dancing feet +seemed hardly to touch the ground. "We've just finished building the +castle. Look!" She pointed proudly to a square of twigs and leaves +around the garden seat. "Come on, Sally Ann. We can play it now and use +Mamma's keys." + +"Wait dar! Whar'd I put my s'wode?" And Sally Ann snatched up her +dangerous weapon and thrust it into a rope around her waist. "Now I'se +ready fo' killin' folks." + +"But we have to begin where Blue Beard goes away on a journey," Virgie +cried. "Susan Jemima, you sit there on the bench and clap your hands. +Get up, Mamma. Go ahead, Sally Ann!" + +"'Ooman," said Sally Ann, strutting up to her mistress and frowning +terribly. "I'se gwine away fer a night an' a day. Dese yere is de keys +to de castle." + +"Yes, sir," was the meek response. + +Sally Ann Blue Beard pointed to an imaginary door halfway between them +and where Virgie sat on the steps, wriggling with delight. "You kin look +in ev'ry room in de house--castle, I means--'cept in des dat one. +Orn'estan me? _Des dat one!_ But ef yo' looks in _dar_,--Gawd he'p you. +I gwine cut yo' haid off," and the fearful sword whizzed threateningly +through the air. "Fyarwell--fyarwell." + +"Farewell, my lord," said Mrs. Cary, and then in a whisper, as Blue +Beard stalked away to hide behind a tree. "What _do_ we do now? +_Quick_!" + +"Now I come in," cried Virgie. "I'm 'Sister Anne' that looks for the +horseman in the cloud of dust." And jumping up, the child managed to +change the tones of her voice in a surprising manner. + +"Good morning, fair sister. Blue Beard has gone away, and now we can +look in his secret room." + +"No, Sister Anne, No! I dare not," and Mrs. Fatima shrank back full of +fear from the imaginary door. "Urge me no more. I am afraid." + +"But, Mother," cried Virgie, with a little squeal of disappointment. +"You _have_ to. It's part of the play," and she led her up to the +invisible door. + +"Now look in--and when you look--drop the keys--an' we'll both scream." + +Slowly the door seemed to open and, after an instant's terrified +silence, both actresses screamed with complete success. Whereupon Mrs. +Fatima dropped to her knees and Sister Anne hugged her tight. + +"It's blood. It's the blood of his seven wives. O-o-o-e-e-e!" + +A great roar sounded in their ears. + +"Mercy! What's that?" cried the terrified Mrs. Fatima. + +"It's Blue Beard. He's coming back," whereupon Virgie immediately left +Mrs. Fatima to face her fate alone. + +Having spent a night and a day behind the tree, Blue Beard now rushed +upon the castle and roared for his wife. + +"Greeting, my lord," said the trembling Mrs. Fatima with a low curtsey +"I hope you have enjoyed your journey." + +"'Ooman," demanded Blue Beard severely. "What make you look so pale?" + +"I know not, sweet sir. Am I, then, so pale?" + +"You is! What you be'n up to sence I be'n away? Ha! What I tole you? +Look at de blood on dat key! False 'ooman, you done deceib' me. Down on +yo' marrow bones an' prepyar to die!" + +"Spare me, my lord. Spare me! I am so--" + +It was just about this time that old Uncle Billy, with a bridle in one +hand and a carriage whip in the other came slowly upon the scene. At the +sight of Sally Ann apparently about to assault his mistress the bridle +dropped from his hand and with a tight clutch on the carriage whip he +covered the intervening space at an amazing speed. + +"Hi, dar! You li'l woolly haided imp! You tech Miss Hallie wid dat ar +stick an' I bus' you wide open!" + +"Oh, stop, Uncle Billy!" cried Virgie in dismay. "We're only having a +play!" + +"Maybe you is; but I lay ef I wrop my carriage whip roun' her laig, des +oncet, she'll hop all de way to de river." + +At this dismal prospect, which seemed much truer than the play, Sally +Ann began to whimper loudly. "Miss Hallie, ef he stay here, I ain't +gwine to play." + +"Whar you git dem whiskers at?" demanded Uncle Billy. + +"Shut up!" cried Virgie. + +"I'm shuttin'," said Uncle Billy, retreating. + +Thus reassured Sally Ann continued: + +"I gwine down stairs to git my dinner When I come back, I sho' gwine +kill you. Fyar you well," and Blue Beard, making a wide circle around +the carriage whip, took himself off the scene. + +"Now, Mother," Virgie announced, "I have to watch at the castle window," +and she jumped up on the bench. + +"Sister Anne; Sister Anne, do you see anybody coming?" + +"No one, Fatima--nothing but a cloud of dust made by the wind." + +"Look again, Sister Anne. Do you see anybody coming?" + +"Oh, Fatima, Fatima. It's growing bigger." + +"Dar now," interposed Uncle Billy. "She's seem' som'pin." + +"Sister Anne! Sister Anne. And what do; you see?" + +"Dust! Dust! I see a horseman in a cloud of dust. Look! Look! He's +coming this way." By this time Virgie's acting had taken on so close a +resemblance to the real thing that both Mrs. Gary and Uncle Billy rose +to their feet in wonder. + +"He's jumped the _fence_," cried Virgie. "He's cutting across our +fields! He sees me! He's waving his hat to me!" With the last words the +child suddenly jumped down from the bench and ran through the opening in +the hedge, leaving her mother gazing after her in sudden consternation. + +"Name we Gawd! Miss Hallie," gasped Uncle Billy. "You reckon she done +brought somebody, sho' 'nuff? Hi! Hi! _I_ hear sum'-pin. It's a horse. +Lan' er Glory! Hits, _him_!" + + + + +CHAPTER II + + +Round the corner of the hedge at a swift trot came a man in the uniform +of an officer in the Confederate Army,--and Virgie was in his arms. + +Mrs. Cary gave him one look and threw out her arms. + +"Herbert!" + +The man on horseback let Virgie slide down and then dismounted like a +flash, coming to her across the little space of lawn with his whole soul +in his eyes. With his dear wife caught in his arms he could do nothing +but kiss her and hold her as if he would never again let her go. + +"Hallie," he breathed, "but it's good to see you again. It's _good_." +And so they stood for a long moment, husband and wife united after +months of separation, after dangers and terrors and privations which had +seemed as if they never would end. + +Sally Ann was one of the first to interrupt, edging up at the earliest +opportunity with her beard in her hand. "How you does, Mars' Cary? How +you fine yo'sef, seh?" + +"Why, hullo, Sally Ann!" said Cary, and put out his hand. "What on earth +is this thing?" + +Virgie ran to his side and caught his hand in hers. "We were playing +'Blue Beard,' Daddy,--an' you came just like the brother." + +"So you've been Blue Beard, have you, Sally Ann?--then I must have the +pleasure of cutting you into ribbons." Herbert Cary's shining saber +flashed half out of its scabbard and then, laughing, he slapped it back +with a clank. + +"Sally Ann," he announced, "I'm going to turn you into Sister Anne for a +while. You run up to Miss Hallie's room and sit by the window where you +can watch the road and woods. If you see anything--soldiers, I mean--" + +"Oh, Herbert!" cried his wife in anguish. + +"S-s-sh!" he whispered. "Go along, Sally Ann. If you see anyone at all +report to me at once. Understand? Off with you!" + +Uncle Billy now came forward in an effort to make his master's clothes +more presentable. + +"Heh, Mars' Cary, lemme brush you off, seh. You's fyar kivered." + +"Look out, you old rascal," Cary laughed, as his wife backed away +coughing before the cloud of fine white dust that rose under Uncle +Billy's vigorous hands. "You're choking your mistress to death. Never +mind the dust. I'll get it back in ten minutes." + +Mrs. Cary clasped her hands together at her breast with a look of +entreaty. + +"Herbert! Must you go so soon?" + +Her husband looked back at her with eyes dark with regret. + +"Yes," he said briefly. "I'm on my way to Richmond. How many horses are +there in the stable?" + +"Two--only two," was the broken response, as his wife sank down +disconsolate on a bench. "Belle and Lightfoot--we sold the others--I +_had_ to do it." + +"Yes, I know, little woman. It couldn't be helped. Here, Billy! Take my +horse and get Belle out of the stable. Lead them down to the swamp and +hide them in the cedars. Then saddle Lightfoot--bring him here and give +him some water and a measure of corn. Look sharp, Billy! Lively!" + +In the face of danger to his master Uncle Billy's response was instant. +"Yes, seh. Right away, seh," and he took Cary's lathered animal and made +off for the stables at top speed. + +Mrs. Cary looked up at her husband with a great fear written on her +face. + +"Why, Herbert dear. You--you don't mean to say that the Yankees are in +the neighborhood?" + +Immediately Cary was on the bench beside her with his arm around her, +while Virgie climbed up on the other side. + +"Now, come," he murmured, "be a brave little woman and don't be alarmed. +It may be nothing after all. Only--there are several foraging +parties--small ones, a few miles down the river. I've been dodging them +all morning. If they come at all they won't trouble either you or +Virgie." + +"But _I'm_ not afraid of them, Daddy-man," cried the small daughter, +and she doubled up her fist ferociously. "Look at _that_." + +"Aha! There's a brave little Rebel," her father cried as he swept her up +in a hearty hug. "_You're_ not afraid of them,--nor you either, God +bless you," and his lips rested for a moment on his wife's soft cheek. +"Only, you are apt to be a little too haughty. If they search the house +for arms or stragglers, make no resistance. It's best." + +"Yes, yes, I know," his wife cried out, "but you, dear, _you_! Why are +you here? Why aren't you with your company?" + +Cary looked away for a moment across the fields and down the slope +towards the shimmering river. They were very beautiful--he wondered why +he had not fully realized all that wife and child and home meant to him +when he volunteered recently for a certain hazardous duty. He knew, too, +how quickly his dear wife would know the full extent of the peril with +which he felt himself surrounded. And so his reply was short and +seemingly gruff, as many another man's has been under too heavy +circumstances. + +"Scouting duty. I've been on it for the past two months." + +Mrs. Cary's hand went to her heart. + +"A _scout_, Herbert! But, darling, why? It's so dangerous--so +horrible--so--" + +He put up his hand, with a forced smile, to check her, and broke in +gayly. + +"Ah, but think of the fun in it. It's like playing hide-and-go-seek with +Virgie." + +But his wife was not to be put off so lightly and she put her impelling +hands on his arm. + +Gary changed his tone. His voice deepened. + +"They need me, dear," he said earnestly. "What does danger to one man +mean when Dixie calls us all? And I'm doing work--good work. I've +already given one battle to General Lee and now I have information that +will give him another and a bigger one. Two nights ago I came through +the Union lines. I ..." + +Mrs. Cary rose unsteadily to her feet. + +"Through the Yankee lines! Oh, Herbert. _Not as a spy!_" + +"A spy? Of course not. I hid in the woods all day, then climbed a tall +pine tree and got the lay of their camp--the number of their guns--the +disposition of forces and their lines of attack. Yesterday I had the +wires at Drury's Bluff and started trouble. I'm on my way now to join my +command, but I had a good excuse for coming home to hold you in in my +arms again, if only for a moment. You see, poor old Roger got a wound in +his flank--from a stray bullet." + +"A _stray_ bullet," asked Mrs. Gary, doubtfully. + +"Yes," he smiled, for he had escaped it, "a stray bullet meant for +_me_." + +"But, Daddy," Virgie interrupted, "while you were up in the tree--" + +A wild whoop broke off Virgie's question. Sally Ann was rushing down the +steps, her eyes rolling up with excitement. + +"Mars' Cary! Mars' Cary! Somebody comin' long de road!" + +"Who? How many?" Cary demanded, springing up and running towards the +gate that opened on the wagon road over the hills. + +"Des' one," responded Sally Ann with naive truthfulness. "Ol' Dr. +Simmons. He drivin' by de gate in de buggy." + +Mrs. Cary threw up her hands with a muffled cry of relief and laughter. +"Oh, Sally! Sally!" she exclaimed, "you'll be the death of me." + +"But Lor! Miss Hallie," said Sally plaintively, "he _tole_ me fer to +tell him." + +Cary, returning, waved Sally Ann back to her post. "That's right," he +laughed. "You're a good sentry, Sally Ann. Go back and watch again. +_Scoot_!" + +"Herbert," and his wife stood before him. "Come into the house and let +me give you something to eat." + +For answer Cary gently imprisoned her face in his hands. "Honey, I +can't," he said, his eyes grown sad again. "Just fix me up +something--anything you can find. I'll munch it in the saddle." + +For a moment their lips clung and then she stepped back with a broken +sigh. "I'll do the best I can, but oh! how I wish it all were over and +that we had you home again." + +A spasm crossed the man's face. "It soon _will_ be over, sweetheart. It +soon _will_ be." + +His wife flung him a startled look. "You mean--Oh, Herbert! Isn't there +a single hope--even the tiniest ray?" + +Cary took her hands in his, looked into her eyes and his answer breathed +the still unconquered spirit of the South. "There is always hope--as +long as we have a man." Mrs. Cary went into the house, slowly, wearily, +and Cary turned to Virgie. + +"Well, little lady," her father said, resting his hand on Virgie's +shining head. "Have you been taking good care of mother--and seeing that +Uncle Billy does his plowing right?" + +"Yes, sir," came the prompt response. "Susan Jemima an' me have been +lookin' after everything--but we had to eat up General Butler!" + +"General Butler," cried her father, astounded. + +"Yes, Daddy--our lastest calf. We named him that 'cause one day when I +was feedin' him with milk he nearly swallowed my silver spoon." + +"Ha-ha," laughed the amused soldier, and swept her up in his arms. "If +we could only get rid of all their generals as easy as that we'd promise +not to eat again for a week. Everything else all right?" + +"No, sir," said Virgie, dolefully. "All the niggers has runned away--all +'cept Uncle Billy and Sally Ann. Jeems Henry runned away this morning." + +"The deuce he did! The young scamp!" + +"He's gone to join the Yankees," Virgie continued. + +"What's that?" and Cary sprang up to pace to and fro. "I wonder which +way he went?" + +"I don' know," whimpered Virgie forlornly. "I only wish I was a soldier +with a big, sharp sword like yours--'cause when the blue boys came I'd +_stick_ 'em in the stomach." + +Mrs. Cary was coming down the steps now with a small package of food and +in the roadway Uncle Billy stood feeding and watering his master's +horse. In this bitterest of moments, when his own family had to be the +ones to hurry him along his way, there had come another and greater +danger--peril to those he loved. + +"Tell me, dear," he said with his hand warm on his wife's soft shoulder. +"Is it true that Jeems Henry ran away this morning?" + +"Yes," she nodded. "I knew the poor boy meant to leave us sooner or +later, so I made no effort to detain him." + +"You did right," was the answer. "But which way did he go?" + +"Up the river. To a Union camp on the Chickahominy." + +"Chickahominy!" exclaimed Cary sharply, and bit his lips. "So that's the +lay of the land, eh! I'm mighty glad you told me this. But still--" +Cary's voice faded away under the weight of a sudden despair. What was +the use of fighting forever against such fearful odds? What could they +ever gain--save a little more honor--and at what dreadful cost? + +"What makes you look so worried, Herbert?" his wife murmured, her nerves +on edge again. + +"Yes, it's true," the man said with a groan. "They're gradually closing +in on us--surrounding Richmond." + +"_Surrounding us?_" Mrs. Cary whispered, hardly believing her ears. + +"Yes, it's true--all too true," the man burst out bitterly. "We can +fight against thousands--and against tens of thousands but, darling, we +can't fight half the world." + +He sank down on the bench, one elbow on his crossed knee, the other arm +hanging listlessly by his side. His face grew lined and haggard. All the +spirit, the indomitable courage of a moment ago had fled before the +revelation that, try as they might, they could never conquer in this +terribly unequal fight. Then he threw out his hand and began to speak, +half to her and half to the unseen armies of his fellows. + +"Our armies are exhausted. Dwindling day by day. We are drawing from the +cradle and the grave. Old men--who can scarcely bear the weight of a +musket on their shoulders: and boys--mere children--who are sacrificed +under the blood-stained wheels. The best! The flower of our land! We +are dumping them all into a big, red hopper. Feed! Feed! Always more +feed for this greedy machine of war!" + +Silently wife and daughter came to the man in his despair, as if to ward +off some dark shape which hovered over him with brushing wings. Their +arms went around him together. + +"There, there, dear," he heard a soft voice whisper, "don't grow +despondent. _Think!_ Even though you've fought a losing fight it has +been a glorious one--and God will not forget the Stars and Bars! +Remember,--you still have us--who love you to the end--and fight your +battles--on our knees." + +Slowly the man looked up. + +"Forgive me, honey," he murmured remorsefully. "You are right--and +bravest, after all. It is you--you women, who save us in the darkest +hours. You--our wives--our mothers--who wage a silent battle in the +lonely, broken homes. You give us love and pity--tenderness and tears--a +flag of pride that turns defeat to victory. The women of the South," he +cried, and Herbert Cary doffed his hat before his wife, "the crutch on +which the staggering hope of Dixie leans!" + +There came, then, the sound of hurrying footsteps. Once more Sally Ann +rushed from the house but this time genuine danger was written plainly +in her face. + +"Mars' Cary! Mars' Cary! Dey's comin' dis time--sho' 'nuff!" + +"How many?" Cary cried, springing for the roadway and his horse. + +"Dey's comin' thu' de woods--an' Lawd Gawd, de yearth is fyar blue wid' +'em." + +"Billy!" commanded Cary. "Take Lightfoot as fast as you can down to the +edge of the woods. Don't worry, Hallie, they'll never catch me once I'm +in the saddle." + +He stooped and kissed her, then caught up Virgie for a last hug, burying +his worn face in her curls. "Good-by, little one. Take good care of +Mother. Good-by!" + +With one last grasp his wife caught his hand. "Herbert! which way do you +go?" + +"Across the river--to the Chesterfield side." + +"But the Yankees came that way, too!" + +"I'll circle around them. If they've left a guard at the crossing I'll +swim the river higher up." He slapped his holster with his open hand. +"Listen for three shots. If they come in quick succession--then I've +crossed--I'm safe. If I only had a few men I'd stay, but alone, I +can't--you know I can't. Good-by! God bless you." And in another moment +he was in the saddle--had waved his hand--was gone. + +Straining their eyes after him, as if they would somehow pierce the dark +woods which hid his flight, mother and daughter stood as if turned to +stone. Only Virgie, after a moment, waved her hand and sent her soft, +childish prayer winging after him to save him from all harm. "Good-by, +Daddy-man, good-by!" + +Sally Ann, however, having seen the approaching danger with her own +eyes, began to wring her hands and cry hysterically. "Aw, Miss Hallie, I +so skeered! I so skeered!" + +"Sally," cried Mrs. Cary, as the sound of hoofbeats thudding through the +woods came unmistakably to her ears, "take Virgie with you instantly +and run down through the grove to the old ice house. Hide there under +the pine tags. Understand?" + +But the negro girl, ashen with terror, seemed incapable of flight. + +"I skeered to go, Miss Hallie," she whimpered. "I wan' stay here wid +you! Ou-ou!" + +"But you can't, I tell you," her mistress answered, as the certainty of +the girl's helplessness before a questioner flashed through her mind. +"You'd tell everything." + +"Oh, come on, you big baby," Virgie urged, pulling at Sally Arm's +sleeve. "_I'll_ take care of you." Then her eye fell on Susan Jemima +lying neglected on the bench and she gave a faint scream at her +heartlessness. "Goodness gracious, Mother," she cried, as, still holding +on to Sally Ann, she ran and caught up her beloved doll. "I nearly +forgot my child!" + +With the clank of sabers and the sound of gruff commands already in her +ears, Mrs. Cary turned peremptorily to Uncle Billy. + +"Remember, William! If the Yankees ask for my husband _you haven't seen +him!_" + +"Nor'm, dat's right," was the prompt answer. "I dunno you eben got one. +But you go in de house, Miss Hallie. Dat's de bes' way,--yas'm." + +"Perhaps it _is_ best," his mistress answered. "The longer we can detain +them the better for Captain Cary. You'd better come in yourself." + +"Yas'm," replied the faithful old man, although such action was farthest +from his thoughts. "In des' a minnit. I'll be dar in des' a minnit." + +But once his mistress had closed the door behind her Uncle Billy's plan +of operations changed. Hurrying down the steps he plunged his arm under +the porch and drew forth--a rusty ax. With his weapon over his shoulder +he hastened up on the veranda and stood with his back against the door. + + + + +CHAPTER III + + +The thudding feet came nearer. A bugle call--a rattling of accouterments +and then, from the other side of the hedge, came a half dozen troopers +in blue, led by a Sergeant with a red face and bloodshot eyes. + +"This way, boys!" the Sergeant shouted, and at the sound of a harsh, +never-forgotten voice Uncle Billy's grasp on his ax grew tighter. "_I_ +know the place--I've been here before. _We'll_ get the liquor and silver +while the Colonel is stealing the horses, eh?" Then his eyes fell on +Uncle Billy and he greeted him with a yell of recognition. "Hello, you +black old ape! Come down and show us where you buried the silver and the +whisky. Oh, you won't? Then I'll come up and get you," and he lurched +forward. + +"Look here, white man," Uncle Billy shouted, lifting the rusty ax high +in the air, "you stay whar you is. Ef you come up dem steps I'll split +yo' ugly haid! I know you, Jim Dudley," he cried. "Mars' Cary done give +you _one_ horse whippin', an' ef you hang aroun' here you'll get anudder +one!" + +Furious at the recollection of his shame of a few years back when he had +been overseer on this same plantation, the Sergeant rushed up the steps +and knocked the ax aside with his gun barrel. "Yes, he did whip me, burn +him, and now I'll do the same for you." Seizing Uncle Billy by the +throat he pushed him against the house. + +Instantly the door swung open. Mrs. Cary, her head held high, her +beautiful dark eyes blazing with wrath, stood on the threshold. + +"Stop it!" she commanded in tones that brooked no disobedience even from +a drunkard. "Let my servant go--instantly!" + +Astounded at this sudden apparition the man shrank back for a moment, +but almost as quickly regained his bluster. + +"Ah-hah, the beautiful Mrs. Cary, eh! I'm glad to see you looking so +well--and handsome." + +The words might as well have been spoken to the wind for all the notice +that the woman paid them. With only a gesture of mingled contempt and +loathing she stepped to the railing and called to the grinning troopers +below. "Who is in command here?" + +To her horror only Dudley answered. + +"_I_ am," he said, triumphantly. He thrust a menacing face close to hers +and ordered her curtly. "And I'd just as soon have _you_ get me a drink +as the nigger. Come on, fine lady." + +Intent on insulting this woman whose husband had once cut his back with +a whip the man caught her by the arm and roughly tried to pull her to +him. But before he could accomplish his purpose retribution fell on him +with a heavy hand. + +Through a gap in the hedge an officer at the head of a dozen troopers +appeared. One look at the scene on the veranda and Lieutenant-Colonel +Morrison, with a smothered cry, dashed up the steps. + +"You beastly coward," and catching the drunkard by the collar he twisted +him around and hurled him thudding and bumping down the steps. "Dudley, +I ought to have you shot." He swept his arm out and gave voice to a +ringing command. "Report to Lieutenant Harris--at once--_under arrest!_ +Corporal! Take his gun." He paused a moment as a brother of the man now +under arrest stepped forward with a sullen face and obeyed orders. +Running his glance over the line of faces, now suddenly vacant of +expression, he whipped them mercilessly with his eye. "You men, too, +will hear from me. Go to the stable and wait. Another piece of work like +this and I'll have your coats cut off with a belt buckle! Clear out!" + +Then he turned to the beautiful woman in white who stood only a few feet +away, no longer timid but in entire possession of her faculties before +what, she knew, might prove a greater danger than a drunkard. + +"Madam," said the Union officer as he doffed his hat, "I couldn't +apologize for this, no matter how hard I tried; but, believe me, I +regret it--deeply." + +In answer she slowly raised her heavy lidded eyes and gave him her +first thrust--smoothly and deftly. + +"No apology is demanded," she murmured in soft tones. "I was merely +unfamiliar with the Union's method of attack." + +"Attack!" he repeated, astounded, and stepped back. + +"What else?" she asked, simply. "My home is over-run; my servant +assaulted--by a drunken ruffian." + +"The man will be punished," was the stern reply, "to the limit of my +authority." + +"He _should_ be. We know him," the Southern woman said bitterly. "Before +the war he was our overseer. He was cruel to the negroes and my husband +gave him a taste of his own discipline--with a riding whip!" + +"Ah, I see," Morrison nodded. "But it is not always in an officer's +power to control each individual in the service--especially at such a +time. Yet I assure you on the part of the Union--and mine--that there +was no intention of attack." + +Mrs. Cary had chosen this moment in which to draw her visitor off the +veranda and when she had successfully brought him to the foot of the +steps she looked up in smiling sarcasm with another thrust. + +"Oh! Then since your visit would seem a _social_ one--how may I serve +you, sir?" + +Morrison laughed lightly. This pretty cat could scratch. + +"I'm afraid, dear madam, you are wrong again. My detachment is on +foraging duty. It is not a pleasant task--but our army is in need of +horses and supplies, and by the rules of war, I must take what I can +find." + +"Even by force?" came the quiet inquiry. + +"Yes, even force," he answered, reddening. "With its proper limitations. +I rob you, it is true, but by virtue of necessity. In return I can only +offer, as I would to every other woman of the South, all courtesy and +protection at my command," and Lieutenant-Colonel Morrison, for the +second time, took off his hat. + +The Southern woman swept him a curtsey filled with graceful mockery. + +"I thank you. There is consolation--and even flattery--in being +plundered by a gentleman." She made a short gesture which took in +house, plantation and all the Cary possessions. "I regret sincerely that +we have nothing left; yet I beg you--help yourself." + +Colonel Morrison bit his lip, half in vexation and half in amusement. +"At least you make my undertaking a difficult one, although I must +admit, I hardly blame you." And then, with a quick, searching look, "Are +there any rebels hidden in your house?" + +"No," she answered. + +"No wounded officers--or refugees of any kind?" + +"None." + +"You give me your word for this--your oath?" + +The Southern woman's head went up and her eyes flashed. "I do," she said +contemptuously and moved away. + +"Thank you," was the grave reply, and he turned to dismiss his men. Then +a thought struck him and he detained her with a gesture. + +"Pardon me, but if it _was_ true--if a brother or a father--was +concealed in there--wouldn't your answer be the same?" + +The answer that came proudly back did not amaze him. "I would try to +protect them--yes! Even with a _perjury_!" + +"Ah!" he said sharply. "Then, don't you you see, you tie the hands of +courtesy and _force_ me to--to this invasion of your home. _Corporal!_ +Make a search of the house for hidden arms or stragglers and report to +me. If any rebels are found--bring them out. Wait," he ordered, as the +Corporal promptly started forward, "nothing else, _whatever_, must be +taken or molested." + +"One moment," commanded Mrs. Cary in her turn and beckoned to Uncle +Billy who had been standing by in silence. "William! conduct these +soldiers through my house--and show them every courtesy. If the +Colonel's orders are not obeyed, report to me." + +"Yas'm," grinned Uncle Billy, with an opera bouffe salute. "Ev'ry +molestashun I'se gwine report." + +Morrison laughed outright. "I'm sorry you still have doubts of my +honorable intentions. May--may my soldiers go in now? Thank you." + +He walked away a few steps, then turned and looked at her where she sat +on the bench demurely sewing. It occurred to him that she was _too_ +demure. Besides, he had discovered something. + +"Er--it is true that I found your stable empty," he said, while his eyes +probed hers, "but, curiously enough, it seems to have been recently +occupied." + +"Yes?" was the non-committal reply. + +"Yes," he echoed, with a touch of iron in his voice. "And you can insure +our leaving you more quickly if you will tell me where these horses have +been hidden." + +Mrs. Cary did not raise her eyes. + +"Granted that we _had_ them," she said, "I'm afraid I must trouble you +to look for them. Otherwise there would be no sense in trying to protect +my property." + +"Right again," he acknowledged, but did not swerve from what he had to +do. "Orderly," he commanded, "report to Lieutenant Harris at the stables +and have him hunt the woods and swamp for hidden horses. Hurry! We must +leave in half an hour." + +As Morrison spoke his eye fell on the roadway and he started +perceptibly. When he turned back to the woman on the bench it was with a +sterner light in his eye. + +"I also notice that a horse has recently been fed and watered in your +carriage road. _Whose was he?_" + +Again that smooth, soft voice with its languid evasions. "We have +several neighbors, Colonel. They visit us at infrequent times." + +"Undoubtedly," he conceded. "But do you usually feed their horses?" + +She smiled faintly. "What little hospitality is ours extends to both man +and beast." + +"I can well believe it," he replied, for he saw to cross-examine this +quick witted woman would be forever useless. "And in happier times I +could wish it might extend--to me. + +"Oh, I mean no offense," he interrupted as Mrs. Cary rose haughtily. "I +only want you to believe that I'm sorry for this intrusion." + +She raised her eyebrows faintly and sat down again. "And was that the +reason why you asked about my neighbor's horse?" + +"No," he said quickly, and as suddenly caught and held her eye. "There's +a Rebel scout who has been giving us trouble--a handsome fellow riding a +bay horse. I thought, perhaps, he might have passed this way." + +If he had thought he would detect anything in her face he was once more +mistaken. + +"It is more than possible," Mrs. Cary remarked with a touch of +weariness. "The road out there is a public one." + +"And where does it lead to, may I ask?" + +"That depends upon which way you are traveling--and which fork you +take." + +"Possibly. But suppose you were riding north. Wouldn't the right fork +lead to Richmond--and the left swing around toward the river crossing?" + +"As to that I must refer you to a more competent authority," she +answered with a hint of some disclosure in her tones. + +"Who?" + +"Mr. Jefferson Davis," she replied and almost laughed outright as he +turned away to hide his vexation. This was an easy game for her to +play--and every moment she gained added to Herbert's safety. But if only +she could hear those three shots from across the river. + +"Well, Harris?" said Morrison as his Lieutenant strode up. + +"I have to report, sir, that we've gotten what little hay and corn there +was in the stables and are waiting for your orders." + +"Very well," and Lieutenant-Colonel Morrison's incisive words rang +mercilessly in the listening woman's ears. "Pick out the best shots you +have among your men and send them at the gallop down this road to the +river crossing. String them along the bank, dismount them and have them +watch as they've never watched before. You understand? Now _hurry_!" + +If ever a woman hated a man, or rather the crushing force he typified, +then Herbert Cary's wife hated this clear headed, efficient Northerner, +who was now discovering how he had been delayed and thwarted. Yet she +had plenty of spirit left, for as Corporal Dudley and his file of +troopers emerged from the house she stood up and caught Uncle Billy's +eye. + +"Well, Corporal?" asked Morrison. + +"Well, William?" asked Mrs. Cary. + +"It's all right, Miss Hallie," Uncle Billy grinned. "Dey ain't took +nothin'--not a single thing." + +"Thank you, William," said Mrs. Cary, having triumphed again. "And thank +_you_, gentlemen." With a bow to Morrison she went superbly back to her +seat under the trees. But as she went it took all her strength of will +to keep from crying. Down the carriage road a squad of cavalry was +galloping furiously towards the river. And still she had not heard the +three shots. + +"Now, then, Corporal, you found what?" + +"Nothing, sir. We hunted from cellar to roof. No arms and no rebels." + +"H'm," he mused. "Anything else?" + +"Three bedrooms, sir. All in use." + +"Three?" Colonel Morrison exclaimed. "Very well. That's all. I'll join +you in a moment." Then he turned to Mrs. Cary, his face stern with +resolve. + +"Madam," he said crisply, "you are not alone on this plantation with +only this old negro. We are wasting time. I'm after a Rebel scout and _I +want him_. Which way did he go?" + +"I'm sorry, sir," she said, quite ready to play her game again. "But our +Rebel scouts usually neglect to mention their precise intentions." + +"Perhaps. If this one went at all. Is he still here?" + +"I should imagine--_not_." + +"Then he did go this way--to the river crossing?" + +Once more he caught and held her eyes and thought he would read the +truth in spite of anything she might say. + +But while he looked he saw her strained face suddenly relax--saw the +anxiety flee from her eyes--saw heart and soul take on new life. From +far away across the river had come some faint popping sounds, regularly +spaced--_three shots_. + +"Ah!" he said, in wonder. "What is that?" + +"It _sounds_," laughed Herbert Cary's wife, "like firing. But I think it +is a friend of mine saluting me--from the safe side of the river. Good +evening, Colonel," and she swept by him. She could go find Virgie now. + +Just then came the sound of a horse, galloping. Up the road came a +trooper, white with dust, his animal flecked with foam. + +"For Colonel Morrison. Urgent," he rasped from a dry throat, as he +thudded across the lawn and dismounted. "From headquarters," and he +thrust out a dispatch, "I'm ordered to return with your detachment." + +Snatching the dispatch from the man's hand Morrison ran his eye over +it--then started visibly. + +"Orderly! Report to Harris double-quick. Recall the men. Sound +boots-and-saddles. Then bring my horse--_at once!_ Any details?" he +asked peremptorily of the courier. + +"Big battle to-morrow," the man answered. "Two gunboats are reported +coming up the river and a wing of the Rebel army is advancing from +Petersburg. Every available detachment is ordered in. You are to reach +camp before morning." + +"All right. We'll be there." Then, as the bugle sounded, "Ride with us," +he said, and strode over to where Mrs. Cary stood, arrested by the news. + +"Madam, I must make you a rather hurried farewell--and a last apology. +If ever we meet again, I hope the conditions may be happier--for you." + +"I thank you, Colonel," the proud Southern woman said sincerely, with a +curtsy. "Some day the 'rebel scout' may thank you also for me and mine." +And with a smile that augured friendship when that brighter day should +come she passed out of his sight among the trees. + +For a moment he watched her, proud at least that this proud woman was of +his own race, then saw that the old negro, her only protector, still +guarded the house. + +"Here, old man," he commanded, "go along with your mistress and take +care of her. I'll be the last to leave and see that nothing happens to +the house." + +"Yas, seh. Thank'e, seh," said old Uncle Billy, coming down. "If all of +'em was only lek you, seh--" + +Uncle Billy suddenly turned and looked up at the house, his mouth open +in consternation. With a cry of anguish he pointed to an upper window. + +"Look what dey done done," he shrieked. "Aw, Gawd a'mighty! Look what +dey done done!" + +A cloud of smoke was rolling from the windows, shot through with yellow +jets of flame. There was the sound of clumsy boots on the stairs and the +door was thrown open. Dudley, escaped from arrest, ran out with a +flaming pine torch in his hand. + +"Halt!" cried Morrison, with raging anger. "Dudley! HALT!" + +But Dudley knew that there would be little use in halting and so ran on +until a big revolver barked behind him and he pitched heavily forward on +his face. Morrison looked down on the prostrate form and his lips moved +sadly, pityingly: + +"And I promised her--protection!" + + + + +CHAPTER IV + + +Of all the memories of war, after the dear dead are buried, there is one +that serves to bring the struggle back in all the intensity of its +horrors--to stand both as a monument to those who bled and suffered and +as a lonely sentinel mourning for the peace and plenty of the past--a +blackened chimney. + +Of all the houses, cabins, barns and cribs which had made up the home of +the Carys a few short months ago nothing remained to-day but ashes and +black ruin. Only one building had been left unburned and this, before +the war, had been the cabin of an overseer. It had but two rooms, and a +shallow attic, which was gained by means of an iron ladder reaching to a +closely fitting scuttle in the ceiling. The larger room was furnished +meagerly with a rough deal table, several common chairs, and a +double-doored cupboard against the wall. In the deep, wide fire-place +glowed a heap of raked-up embers, on which, suspended from an iron +crane, a kettle simmered, sadly, as if in grief for her long-lost +brother pots and pans. The plaster on the walls had broken away in +patches, especially above the door, where the sunlight streamed through +the gaping wound from a cannon shot. The door and window shutters were +of heavy oak, swinging inward and fastening with bars; yet now they were +open, and through them could be seen a dreary stretch of river bottom, +withering beneath the rays of a July sun. + +Beyond a distant fringe of trees the muddy James went murmuring down its +muddy banks, where the blue cranes waited solemnly for the ebbing tide; +where the crows cawed hoarsely in their busy, reeling flight, and the +buzzards swung high above the marshes. Yet even in this waste of +listless desolation came the echoed boom of heavy guns far down the +river, where the "Rebs" and "Yanks" were pounding one another lazily. + +From the woods which skirted the carriage road a man appeared--a thin, +worn man, in a uniform of stained and tattered gray--a man who peered +from right to left, as a hunted rabbit might, then darted across the +road and plunged into the briery underbrush. Noiselessly he made his way +to the now deserted cabin, creeping, crawling till he reached a point +below an open window, then slowly raised himself and looked within. + +"Virgie!" he whispered cautiously. "Virgie!" + +No answer came. For a moment the man leaned dizzily against the +windowsill, his eyes fast closed with a nameless dread, till he caught +his grip again and entered the open door. + +"Virgie!" he called, in a louder tone, moving swiftly but unsteadily +toward the adjoining room. He flung its door open sharply, almost +angrily; yet the name on his lips was tender, trembling, as he called: +"Virgie! Virgie!" + +In the loneliness of dread, he once more leaned for support against the +wall, wondering, listening to the pounding of his heart, to the murmur +of the muddy James, and the fall of a flake of plaster loosened by the +dull reverberation of a distant gun; then suddenly his eye was caught +by the kettle simmering on the fire, and he sighed in swift relief. + +He wiped his brow with a ragged sleeve and went to where a water-bucket +stood behind the door, knelt beside it, drinking deeply, gratefully, yet +listening the while for unwonted sounds and watching the bend of the +carriage road. His thirst appeased, he hunted vainly through the table +drawer for balls and powder for the empty pistol at his hip; then, +instinctively alert to some rustling sound outside, he crouched toward +the adjoining room, slipped in, and softly closed the door. + +From the sunlit world beyond the cabin walls rose the murmur of a +childish song and Virgie came pattering in. + +She had not changed greatly in stature in the past few months, but there +was a very noticeable decrease in the girth of her little arms and body, +and her big dark eyes seemed the larger for the whiteness of her face. +On her head she wore an old calico bonnet several sizes too large and +the gingham dress which scarcely reached to her bare, brown knees would +not have done, a few months ago, for even Sally Ann. In one hand Virgie +carried a small tin bucket filled with berries; in the other she +clutched a doll lovingly against her breast. + +Not the old Susan Jemima, but a new Susan Jemima on whom an equal +affection was being lavished even though she was strangely and +wonderfully made. To the intimate view of the unimaginative, Susan +Jemima was formed from the limb of a cedar tree, the forking branches +being her arms and legs, her costume consisting of a piece of rag tied +at the waist with a bit of string. + +On a chair at the table Virgie set her doll, then laughed at the +hopelessness of its breakfasting with any degree of comfort, or of ease. + +"Why, Lord a-mercy, child, your chin don't come up to the table." + +On the chair she placed a wooden box, perching the doll on top and +taking a seat herself just opposite. She emptied the blackberries into a +mutilated plate, brought from the cupboard a handful of toasted acorns, +on which she poured boiling water, then set the concoction aside to +steep. + +"Now, Miss Susan Jemima," said Virgie, addressing her vis-a-vis with the +hospitable courtesy due to so great a lady, "we are goin' to have some +breakfas'." She paused, in a shade of doubt, then smiled a faint +apology: "It isn't very _much_ of a breakfas', darlin', but we'll make +believe it's waffles an' chicken an'--an' hot rolls an' batter-bread +an'--an' everything." She rose to her little bare feet, holding her wisp +of a skirt aside, and made a sweeping bow. "Allow me, Miss Jemima, to +make you a mos' delicious cup of coffee." + +And, while the little hostess prepared the meal, a man looked out from +the partly open door behind her, with big dark eyes, which were like her +own, yet blurred by a mist of pity and of love. + +"Susan," said the hostess presently, "it's ready now, and we'll say +grace; so don't you talk an' annoy your mother." + +The tiny brown head was bowed. The tiny brown hands, with their +berry-stained fingers, were placed on the table's edge; but Miss Susan +Jemima sat bolt upright, though listening, it seemed, to the words of +reverence falling from a mother-baby's lips: + +"Lord, make us thankful for the blackberries an' the aco'n coffee +an'--an' all our blessin's; but please, sir, sen' us somethin' that +tastes jus' a little better--if you don't mind. Amen!" + +And the man, who leaned against the door and watched, had also bowed his +head. A pain was in his throat--and in his heart--a pain that gripped +him, till two great tears rolled down his war-worn cheek and were lost +in his straggling beard. + +"Virgie!" he whispered hoarsely. "Virgie!" + +She started at the sound and looked about her, wondering; then, as the +name was called again, she slid from her chair and ran forward with a +joyous cry: + +"Why, Daddy! Is it you? Is--" + +She stopped, for the man had placed a finger on his lip and was pointing +to the door. + +"Take a look down the road," he ordered, in a guarded voice; and, when +she had reached a point commanding the danger zone, he asked, "See +anybody?--soldiers?" She shook her head. "Hear anything?" + +She stood for a moment listening, then ran to him, and sprang into his +waiting arms. + +"It's all right, Daddy! It's all right now!" + +He raised her, strained her to his breast, his cheek against her own. + +"My little girl!" he murmured between his kisses. "My little rebel!" And +as she snuggled in his arms, her berry-stained fingers clasped tightly +about his neck, he asked her wistfully, "Did you miss me?--_awful_ +much?" + +"Yes," she nodded, looking into his eyes. "Yes--in the night time--when +the wind was talkin'; but, after while, when--Why, Daddy!" He had +staggered as he set her down, sinking into a chair and closing his eyes +as he leaned on the table's edge. "You are hurt!" she cried. "I--I can +see the blood!" + +The wounded Southerner braced himself. + +"No, dear, no," he strove to reassure her. "It isn't anything; only a +little scratch--from a Yank--that tried to get me. But he didn't, +though," the soldier added with a smile. "I'm just--tired." + +The child regarded him in wondering awe, speaking in a half-breathed +whisper: + +"Did he--did he _shoot_ at you?" + +Her father nodded, with his hand on her tumbled hair. + +"Yes, honey, I'm afraid he did; but I'm so used to it now I don't mind +it any more. Get me a drink of water, will you?" As Virgie obeyed in +silence, returning with the dripping gourd, the man went on: "I tried to +get here yesterday; but I couldn't. They chased me when I came +before--and now they're watching." He paused to sip at his draught of +water, glancing toward the carriage road. "Big fight down the river. +Listen! Can you hear the guns?" + +"Yes, plain," she answered, tilting her tiny head. "An' las' night, when +I went to bed, I could hear 'em--oh! ever so loud: Boom! Boom! +Boom-boom! So I knelt up an' asked the Lord not to let any of 'em hit +you." + +Two arms, in their tattered gray, slipped round the child. He kissed +her, in that strange, fierce passion of a man who has lost his mate, +and his grief-torn love is magnified in the mite who reflects her image +and her memory. + +"Did you, honey?" he asked, with a trembling lip. "Well, I reckon that +saved your daddy, for not one shell touched him--no, not one!" He kissed +her again, and laughed. "And I tell you, Virgie, they were coming as +thick as bees." + +Once more he sipped at the grateful, cooling draught of water, when the +child asked suddenly: + +"How is Gen'ral Lee?" + +Down came the gourd upon the table. The Southerner was on his feet, with +a stiffened back; and his dusty slouch hat was in his hand. + +"He's well; God bless him! Well!" + +The tone was deep and tender, proud, but as reverent as the baby's +prayer for her father's immunity from harm; yet the man who spoke sank +back into his seat, closing his eyes and repeating slowly, sadly: + +"He's well; God bless him! But he's tired, darling--mighty tired." + +"Daddy," the soldier's daughter asked, "will you tell him +somethin'--from me?" + +"Yes, dear. What?" + +"Tell him," said the child, with a thoughtful glance at Miss Susan +Jemima across the table, "tell him, if he ever marches along this way, +I'll come over to his tent and rub his head, like I do yours--if he'll +let me--till he goes to sleep." She clasped her fingers and looked into +her father's eyes, hopefully, appealingly. "Do you think he would, +if--if I washed my hands--real clean?" + +The Southerner bit his lip and tried to smile. + +"Yes, honey, I know he would! And think! He sent a message--to _you_." + +"Did he?" she asked, wide-eyed, flushed with happiness. "What did he +say, Daddy? What?" + +"He said," her father answered, taking her hands in his: "'She's a brave +little soldier, to stay there all alone. Dixie and I are proud of her!'" + +"Oh, Daddy, did he? Did he?" + +"Yes, dear, yes," the soldier nodded; "his very words. And look!" From +his boot leg he took a folded paper and spread it on his knee. "He +wrote you a pass--to Richmond. Can you read it?" + +Virgie leaned against her father's shoulder, studying the paper long and +earnestly; then, presently looked up, with a note of grave but courteous +hesitation in her tone: + +"Well--he--well, the Gen'ral writes a awful bad hand, Daddy." + +Her father laughed in genuine delight, vowing in his heart to tell his +general and friend of this crushing criticism, if ever the fates of war +permitted them to meet again. + +"Dead right!" he agreed, with hearty promptness. "But come, I'll read it +for you. Now then. Listen: + + "HEADQUARTERS OF THE ARMY OF NORTHERN VA. + + "_Pass Virginia Cary and escort through all Confederate lines and + give safe-conduct wherever possible._ + + "R.E. LEE, _General_." + +There was silence for a moment, then Virgie looked up, with tears in her +eyes and voice. + +"An' he did that--for little _me_? Oh, Daddy, I love him so much, it--it +makes me want to cry." + +She hid her face on the coat of gray, and sobbed; while her father +stroked her hair and answered soothingly, but in a tone of mourning +reverie: + +"So do we all, darling; big grown men, who have suffered, and are losing +all they love. They are ragged--and wounded--hungry--and, oh, so tired! +But, when they think of _him_, they draw up their belts another hole, +and say, '_For General Lee!_' And then they can fight and fight and +fight--till their hearts stop beating--and the god of battles writes +them a bloody pass!" + +Again he had risen to his feet. He was speaking proudly, in the reckless +passion of the yet unconquered Southerner, only half-conscious of the +tot who watched him, wondering. So she came to him quickly, taking his +hand in both her own, and striving to bring him comfort from the +fountain of her little mother-heart. + +"Don't you worry, Daddy-man. We'll--we'll whip 'em yet." + +"No, dear--no," he sighed, as he dropped into his seat. "We won't. It's +hard enough on men; but harder still on children such as you." He +turned to her gravely, earnestly: "Virgie, I had hoped to get you +through to Richmond--to-day. But I can't. The Yankees have cut us off. +They are up the river and down the river--and all around us, I've been +nearly the whole night getting here; creeping through the woods--like an +old Molly-cotton-tail--with the blue boys everywhere, waiting to get me +if I showed my head." + +"But they didn't, did they?" said Virgie, laughing at his reference to +the wise old rabbit and feeling for the pockets of his shabby coat, "Did +you--did you bring me anything?" + +At her question the man cried out as if in pain, then reached for her in +a wave of yearning tenderness. + +"Listen, dear; I--I had a little bundle for you--of--of things to eat." +He took her by the arms, and looked into her quaint, wise face, "And I +was so glad I had it, darling, for you are thinner than you were." He +paused to bite his lip, and continued haltingly, "There was bread in +that bundle--and meat--real meat--and sugar--and tea." + +Virgie released herself and clapped her hands. + +"Oh, Daddy, where is it?" she asked him happily, once more reaching for +the pocket. "'Cause I'm _so_ hungry for somethin' good." + +"Don't! Don't!" he cried, as he drew his coat away, roughly, fiercely, +in the pain of unselfish suffering. "For Daddy's sake, don't!" + +"Why, what is it, Daddy," she asked, in her shrillness of a child's +alarm, her eyes on the widening stain of red above his waist. "Is--is it +hurtin' you again? What is it, Daddy-man?" + +"Your bundle," he answered, in the flat, dull tone of utter +hopelessness. "I lost it, Virgie. I lost it." + +"Oh," she said, with a quaver of disappointment, which she vainly strove +to hide. "How did you do it?" + +For a moment the man leaned limply against a chair-back, hiding his eyes +with one trembling hand; then he spoke in shamed apology: + +"I--I couldn't help it, darling; because, you see, I hadn't any powder +left; and I was coming through the woods--just as I told you--when the +Yanks got sight of me." He smiled down at her bravely, striving to add a +dash of comedy to his tragic plight. "And I tell you, Virgie, your old +dad had to run like a turkey--wishing to the Lord he had wings, too." + +Virgie did not smile in turn, and her father dropped back into his +former tone, his pale lips setting in a straight, hard line. + +"And then--the blue boy I was telling you about--when he shot at me, I +must have stumbled, because, when I scrambled up, I--I couldn't see just +right; so I ran and ran, thinking of you, darling, and wanting to get to +you before--well, before it was breakfast time. I had your bundle in my +pocket; but when I fell--why, Virgie, don't you see?--I--I couldn't go +back and find it." He paused to choke, then spoke between his teeth, in +fury at a strength which had failed to breast a barrier of fate: "But I +_would_ have gone back, if I'd had any powder left. I _would_ have! I +would!" + +A pitiful apology it was, from a man to a little child; a story told +only in its hundredth part, for why should he give its untold horrors to +a baby's ears? How could she understand that man-hunt in the early dawn? +The fugitive--with an empty pistol on his hip--wading swamps and +plunging through the tangled underbrush; alert and listening, darting +from tree to tree where the woods were thin; crouching behind some +fallen log to catch his laboring breath, then rising again to creep +along his way. He did not tell of the racking pain in his weary legs, +nor the protest of his pounding heart--the strain--the agony--the puffs +of smoke that floated above the pines, and the ping of bullets whining +through the trees. He did not tell of the ball that slid along his ribs, +leaving a fiery, aching memory behind, as the man crashed down a clay +bank, to lie for an instant in a crumpled heap, to rise and stumble +on--not toward the haven of his own Confederate lines, but forward, to +where a baby waited--through a dancing mist of red. + +And so the soldier made his poor apology, turning his head away to +avoid a dreaded look in Virgie's big, reproachful eyes; then he added +one more lashwelt to his shame: + +"And now your poor old daddy is no more use to you. I come to my little +girl with empty hands--with an empty gun--and an empty heart!" + +He said it bitterly, in the self-accusing sorrow of his soul; and his +courage, which had borne him through a hell of suffering, now broke; but +only when a helper of the helpless failed. He laid his outflung arms +across the table. He bowed his beaten head upon them and sobbed aloud, +with sobs that shook him to his heels. + +It was then that Virgie came to him again, a little daughter of the +South, who, like a hundred thousand of her sisters, brought comfort in +the blackest hours. + +One tiny, weak arm was slipped about his neck. One tiny brown hand, with +its berry-stained fingers, was run through his tangled hair, softly, +tenderly, even as she longed to soothe the weary head of General Lee. + +"Don't cry, Daddy-man," she murmured in his ear; "it's all right. _I_ +can eat the blackberries. They--they don't taste so _awful_ good when +you have 'em _all_ the time; but _I_ don't mind." She paused to kiss +him, then tried once more to buoy his hope and hers. "We'll have jus' +heaps of things when we get to Richmon'--jus' heaps--an' then--" + +She stopped abruptly, lifting her head and listening, in the manner of a +sheep dog scenting danger from afar. Her father looked up sharply and +gripped her hands. + +"Virgie! You hear--_what_?" + +"Horses! Oh, a lot of 'em! On the big road!" + +It was true, for down the breeze came the faintly echoed thud of many +hoofs and the clinking jingle of sabers against the riders' thighs. +Virgie turned back from the open door. + +"Why--why, they've turned into _our_ road!" Her breath came fast, as she +sank her voice to a faint, awed whisper, "Daddy--do you reckon +it's--_Yankees_?" + +"Yes," said her father, who had risen to his feet. "Morrison's cavalry! +They won't hurt _you_; but I'll have to get to the woods again! Good-by, +honey! Good-by!" + +He kissed her hurriedly and started for the door, but shrank into the +shadow at sight of a blue-clothed watcher sharply outlined on the crest +of a distant rise. Escape was cut off, and the hunted soldier turned to +Virgie in his need. + +"Shut the door--quick!" She obeyed in silence. "Lock it!" She turned the +rusty key, and waited. "Now the windows! Hurry, but do it quietly." + +She closed the clumsy shutters and set the heavy bars into their slots; +then the man came forward, knelt down before her and took her hands. + +"Listen, Virginia," he whispered earnestly; "don't you remember how your +dear, dear mother--and I, too, darling--always told you never to tell a +lie?" + +"An' I haven't, Daddy-man," she protested, wondering. "'Deed, an' 'deed, +I haven't. Why--" + +"Yes, yes, I know," he interrupted hurriedly; "but now--_you must_!" As +the child stepped backward and tried to draw away, he clasped her hands +more tightly still. "But listen, dear; it's to save _me_! Don't you +understand?--and it's _right_! When those men come, they mustn't find +me. Say I _was_ here, but I've gone. If they ask which way, tell them I +went down past the spring--through the blackberry patch. Do you +understand?--and can you remember?" She nodded gravely, and the +Southerner folded her tightly in his arms. "Be a brave little rebel, +honey--_for me_!" + +He released her and began to mount the ladder leading to the scuttle in +the ceiling; but halfway up he paused, as Virgie checked him with a +solemn question: + +"Daddy--would Gen'ral Lee want me to tell that lie?" + +"Yes, dear," he answered slowly, thoughtfully; "this once! And, if ever +you see him, ask him, and he'll tell you so himself. God help you, +darling; it's for General Lee--and _you_!" + +The littlest rebel sighed, as though a weight had been lifted from her +mind, and she cocked her head at the sound of louder hoof-beats on the +carriage road. + +"All right, Daddy-man. I'll tell--a _whopper_!" + + + + +CHAPTER V + + +The man crawled up through the scuttle hole and disappeared; then drew +the ladder after him and closed the trap, while Virgie tiptoed to the +table and slipped into a seat. + +The cabin was now in semi-darkness, except for a shaft of sunlight +entering through the jagged wound from the cannon-shot above the door; +and it fell on the quaint, brown head of little Miss Virginia Cary, and +the placid form of Susan Jemima, perching opposite, in serene contempt +of the coming of a conquering host. + +The jingling clank of sabers grew louder to the listeners' ears, through +the rumble of pounding hoofs; a bugle's note came winnowing across the +fields, and Virgie leaned forward with a confidential whisper to her +doll: + +"Susan Jemima, I wouldn't tell anybody else--no, not for anything--but I +cert'n'y am awful scared!" + +There came a scurrying rush, a command to halt, and a rustling, +scraping noise of dismounting men; a pause, and the sharp, loud rap of a +saber hilt against the door. Virgie breathed hard, but made no answer. + +"Open up!" called a voice outside, but the little rebel closed her lips +and sat staring at Susan Jemima across the table. A silence followed, +short, yet filled with dread; then came a low-toned order and the crash +of carbine butts on the stout oak door. For a time it resisted +hopefully, then slowly its top sagged in, with a groaning, grating +protest from its rusty hinges; it swayed, collapsed in a cloud of +dust--and the enemy swept over it. + +They came with a rush; in the lead an officer, a naked saber in his +fist, followed by a squad of grim-faced troopers, each with his carbine +cocked and ready for discharge. Yet, as suddenly as they had come, they +halted now at the sight of a little lady, seated at table, eating +berries, as calmly as though the dogs of war had never even growled. + +A wondering silence followed, till broken by a piping voice, in grave +but courteous reproof: + +"I--I don't think you are very polite." + +The officer in command was forced to smile. + +"I'm sorry, my dear," he apologized; "but am afraid, this time, I can't +quite help it." He glanced at the door of the adjoining room and turned +to his waiting men, though speaking in an undertone: "He's in there, I +guess. Don't fire if you can help it--on account of the baby. Now then! +Steady, boys! Advance!" + +He led the way, six troopers following, while the rest remained behind +to guard the cabin's open door. Virgie slowly turned her head, with eyes +that watched the officer's every move; then presently she called: + +"Hey, there! That's _my_ room--an' don't you-all bother any of my +things, either!" + +This one command, at least, was implicitly obeyed, for in a moment the +disappointed squad returned. The carbine butts were grounded; the +troopers stood at orderly attention, while their officer stepped toward +the table. + +"What's your name, little monkey?" + +Virgie raised her eyes in swift reproach. + +"I don't like to be called a monkey. It--it isn't respectful." + +The Union soldier laughed. + +"O-ho! I see." He touched his hat and made her a sweeping bow. "A +thousand pardons, Mademoiselle." He shot his sword into its scabbard, +and laughed again. "Might I inquire as to what you are called by +your--er--justly respectful relatives and friends?" + +"Virgie," she answered simply. + +"Ah," he approved, "and a very pretty name! Virgie what?" + +"My whole name is Miss Virginia Houston Gary." + +The soldier started, glanced at his troopers, then back to the child +again: + +"Is Herbert Cary your father?" + +He waited for her answer, and got it, straight from a baby's shoulder: + +"_Mister_ Herbert Cary is--yes, sir." + +The enemy smiled and made her another bow. + +"I stand corrected. Where is your father now?" + +Virgie hesitated. + +"I--I don't know." + +The voice of her inquisitor took on a sterner tone: + +"Is he here?--hiding somewhere? Tell me!" + +Her little heart was pounding, horribly, and the hot blood came into her +cheeks; but she looked him squarely in the face, and lied--for General +Lee: + +"No, sir. Daddy _was_ here--but he's gone away." + +The enemy was looking at her, intently, and his handsome, piercing eyes, +grew most uncomfortable. She hung for an instant between success and +sobbing failure, till a bubble from Mother Eve rose up in her youthful +blood and burst into a spray of perfect feminine deceit. She did not try +to add to her simple statement, but began to eat her berries, calmly, as +though the subject were completely closed. + +"Which way did he go?" the officer demanded, and she pointed with her +spoon. + +"Down by the spring--through the blackberry patch." + +The soldier was half-convinced. He stood for a moment, looking at the +floor, then asked her sharply, suddenly: + +"If your father had gone, then why did you lock that door?" + +She faltered, but only for an instant. + +"'Cause I thought you might be--_niggers_." + +The man before her clenched his hands, as he thought of that new-born, +hideous danger menacing the South. + +"I see," he answered gently; "_yes_, I see." He turned away, but, even +as he turned, his eye was caught by the double-doored cupboard against +the wall. "What do you keep in there?" he asked; and the child smiled +faintly, a trifle sadly, in reply: + +"We _used_ to keep things to eat--when we had any." + +He noted her mild evasion, and pushed the point. + +"What is in it now?" + +"Tin pans." + +"Anything else?" + +"Er--yes, sir." + +He caught his breath and stepped a little nearer, bending till his face +was close to hers. + +"What?" + +"Colonel Mosby," declared the mite, with a most emphatic nod; "an' you +better look out, too!" + +The officer laughed as he turned to his grinning squad. + +"Bright little youngster! Still, I think we'll have a look." He dropped +his air of amusement, growing stern again. "Now, men! Ready!" + +They swung into line and faced the cupboard, the muzzles of their +carbines trained upon it, while their leader advanced, swung open the +doors, and quickly stepped aside. + +On the bottom shelf, as Virgie had declared, were a few disconsolate tin +pans; yet tacked to the door was a picture print of Mosby--that dreaded +guerrilla whose very name was a bugaboo in the Union lines. + +The littlest rebel flung back her head and laughed. + +"My, but you looked funny!" she cried to the somewhat disconcerted +officer, pointing at him with her spoon. "If a mouse had jumped out, I +reckon it would have scared you mos' to death." + +The officer's cheeks flushed red, in spite of his every effort at +control; nor was he assisted by the knowledge that his men were +tittering behind his back. He turned upon them sharply. + +"That will do," he said, and gave a brusque command: "Corporal, deploy +your men and make a thorough search outside. Examine the ground around +the spring--and report!" + +"Yes, sir," returned Corporal Dudley saluting and dropping his hand +across his mouth to choke off an exclamation of anger. Then he snarled +at his men, to ease the pain of thwarted vengeance: "_'Tention! Right +face! Forward! March!_" + +The squad trooped out across the broken door, leaving their commanding +officer alone with his rebel prisoner. + +"Now, Virgie," he asked, in a kindly tone, though holding her eyes with +his, "do you mean to tell me--cross your heart--that you are here, just +by yourself?" + +"Er--no, sir." As he opened his lips to speak, she pointed to her doll. +"Me an' Susan Jemima." + +"Well, that's a fact," he laughed. "Hanged if I'm not losing all my +social polish." He gallantly removed his hat, bowed gravely to the cedar +stick, and shook its hand. "Charmed to make your acquaintance, Miss +Susan, believe me. My own name is Morrison--Lieutenant-Colonel +Morrison--at your service." He turned to the little mother with a smile +that showed a row of white and even teeth. "And now," he said, "since we +are all informally introduced, suppose we have a quiet, comfortable +chat." He paused, but she made no answer. "Well? Aren't you going to ask +me to have some breakfast?" + +Virgie cast a troubled gaze into the plate before her. + +"Er--no, sir." + +"What? Why not?" + +She faltered, and answered slowly: + +"'Cause--'cause you're one of the damn Yankees." + +"Oh! oh! oh!" exclaimed the soldier, shocked to hear a baby's lips +profaned. "Little girls shouldn't use such words. Why, Virgie!" + +She raised her eyes, clear, fearless, filled with vindicating innocence. + +"Well, it's your _name_, isn't it? _Everybody_ calls you that." + +"Um--yes," he admitted, striving to check the twitching of his lips; "I +suppose they do--south of Washington. But don't you know we are just +like other people?" She shook her head. "Oh, yes, we are. Why, _I_ have +a little girl at home--not any bigger than you." + +"Have you?" asked Virgie, her budding racial prejudice at war with +youthful curiosity. "What's her name?" + +"Gertrude," he answered softly, tenderly. "Gertrude Morrison. Would you +like to see her picture?" + +"Yes," said the little rebel, and stepped across the gulf which had lain +between her and her enemy. "You can sit down if you want to. Jus' put +Susan Jemima on the table." + +"Thank you," returned her visitor, obeying instructions, seating himself +and loosening the upper buttons of his coat. On his neck, suspended by +a chain, was a silver locket containing the miniature of a plump and +pretty child. It had lain there since the war began, through many a +bivouac, many a weary march, and even in the charge he could feel it +tapping against his breast; so now, as he held it out to Virgie, the +father's hand was trembling. + +"There she is. My Gertrude--my little Gertrude." + +Virgie leaned forward eagerly. + +"Oh!" she said, in unaffected admiration, "She's _mighty_ pretty. +She's--" The child stopped suddenly, and raised her eyes. "An' she's +fat, too. I reckon Gertrude gets lots to eat, doesn't she?" + +"Why, yes," agreed the father, thinking of his comfortable Northern +home; "of course. Don't you?" + +Virgie weighed the question thoughtfully before she spoke. + +"Sometimes--when Daddy gets through the lines and brings it to me." + +The soldier started violently, wrenched back from the selfish dream of +happiness that rose as he looked at the picture of his child. + +"What! Is _that_ why your father comes?" + +"Yes, sir." + +"I didn't know! I thought he came--" + +He rose to his feet and turned away, his thoughts atumble, a pang of +parental pity gnawing at his heart; then he wheeled and faced her, +asking, with a break in his husky voice: + +"And at other times--what do you eat, then?" + +She made a quaint, depreciating gesture toward the appointments of her +breakfast table. + +"Blackberries--an'--an' coffee made out of aco'ns." + +Again the troubled conqueror turned away. + +"Oh, it's a shame!" he muttered between his teeth. "A wicked shame!" + +He stood for a moment, silently, till Virgie spoke and jarred him with +another confidence. + +"My cousin Norris told me that the Yankees have bread every day; an' +tea--an' milk--an' everything. _An' butter!_" + +This last-named article of common diet was mentioned with an air of +reverential awe; and, somehow, it hurt the well-fed Union officer far +more than had she made some direct accusation against the invading +armies of the North. + +"Don't, Virgie--please," he murmured softly. "There are some things we +just can't bear to listen to--even in times of war." He sighed and +dropped into his former seat, striving gently to change the subject. +"You have lived here--always?" + +"Oh, no," she assured him, with a lift of her small, patrician brows. +"_This_ is the overseer's house. _Our_ house used to be up on the hill, +in the grove." + +"_Used_ to be--?" + +"Yes, sir. But--but the Yankees burnt it up." + +Morrison's fist came down on the table with a crash. He remembered now +his raid of some months before upon this same plantation, so unfamiliar +in its present neglected state. Again he looked into the fearless eyes +of a Southern gentlewoman who mocked him while her lover husband swam +the river and escaped. Again he saw the mansion wrapped in flame and +smoke--the work of a drunken fiend in his own command. Yes, he +remembered now; too well; then he turned to the child and spoke: + +"Tell me about it. Won't you?" + +She nodded, wriggled from her chair, and stood beside the table. + +"Oh, it was a long time ago--a month, maybe--an' they came after our +horses. Mamma an' me were all by ourselves--'ceptin' Uncle Billy and +Sally Ann. An' we were dreadful scared--an' we hid in the ice house." + +She paused. Her listener had leaned his elbow on the table, his hand +across his eyes. + +"Yes, dear. Go on." + +The child had been standing opposite, with Susan Jemima and the +acorn-coffee pot between them; but gradually she began to edge a little +nearer, till presently she stood beside him, fingering a shiny button on +his coat. + +"An' the blue boys ate up everything we had--an' took our corn. An' when +they went away from our house, they--a man set it on fire. But another +man got real mad with him, an'--an' shot him. _I_ know, 'cause Uncle +Billy put him in the ground." She paused, then sank her voice to a +whisper of mysterious dread, "An'--_an' I saw him!_" + +"Don't think about it, Virgie," begged Morrison, slipping his arm about +the mite, and trying not to put his own beloved ones in the little +rebel's place. "What happened then?" + +"We came to live here," said Virgie; "but Mamma got sick. Oh, she got +terrible sick--an' one night Daddy came through, and put her in the +ground, too. But _he_ says she's jus' asleep." + +The soldier started. Mrs. Cary dead? This poor tot motherless? He drew +the baby closer to him, stroking her hair, as her sleeping mother might +have done, and waited for the rest. + +"An' las' Friday, Sally Ann went away--I don't know where--an'--" + +"What?" asked Morrison. "She left you here--all by yourself?" + +"Yes, sir," said the child, with a careless laugh. "But _I_ don't mind. +Sally Ann was a triflin' nigger, anyhow. You see--" + +"Wait a minute," he interrupted, "what became of the old colored man +who--" + +"Uncle Billy? Yes, sir. We sent him up to Richmond--to get some things, +but he can't come back--the Yankees won't let him." + +"Won't they?" + +"No, sir. An' Daddy's been tryin' to get me up to Richmon', where my +Aunt Margaret lives at, but he can't--'cause the Yankees are up the +river an' down the river, an'--an' everywhere--an' he can't." She +paused, as Morrison turned to her from his restless pacing up and down. +"My, but you've got fine clo'es! Daddy's clo'es are all rags--with--with +holes in 'em." + +He could not answer. There was nothing for him to say, and Virgie +scorched him with another question: + +"What did you come after Daddy for?" + +"Oh, not because I _wanted_ to, little girl," he burst out harshly. "But +you wouldn't understand." He had turned away, and was gazing through the +open door, listening to the muttered wrath of the big black guns far +down the river. "It's war! One of the hateful, pitiful things of war! I +came because I had my orders." + +"From your Gen'ral?" + +He lowered his chin, regarding her in mild astonishment. + +"Yes--my General." + +"An' do you love _him_--like _I_ love Gen'ral Lee?" + +"Yes, dear," he answered earnestly; "of course." + +He wondered again to see her turn away in sober thought, tracing lines +on the dusty floor with one small brown toe; for the child was wrestling +with a problem. If a soldier had orders from his general, as she herself +might put it, "he was _bound_ to come"; but still it was hard to +reconcile such duty with the capture of her father. Therefore, she +raised her tiny chin and resorted to tactics of a purely personal +nature: + +"An' didn't you know, if you hurt my daddy, I'd tell Uncle Fitz Lee on +you?" + +"No," the Yankee smiled. "Is he your uncle?" + +The littlest rebel regarded him with a look of positive pity for his +ignorance. + +"He's _everybody's_ uncle," she stated warmly. "An' if I was to tell +him, he'd come right after you an'--an' lick the _stuffins_ out of +you." + +The soldier laughed. + +"My dear," he confided, with a dancing twinkle in hip eye, "to tell you +the honest truth, your Uncle Fitz has done it already--_several_ times." + +"Has he?" she cried, in rapturous delight. "Oh, _has_ he?" + +"He has," the enemy repeated, with vigor and conviction. "But suppose we +shift our conversation to matters a shade more pleasant. Take you, for +instance. You see--" He stopped abruptly, turning his head and listening +with keen intentness. "What's that?" he asked. + +"_I_ didn't hear anything," said Virgie, breathing very fast; but she +too had heard it--a sound above them, a scraping sound, as of someone +lying flat along the rafters and shifting his position and, while she +spoke, a telltale bit of plaster fell, and broke as it struck the floor. + +Morrison looked up, starting as he saw the outlines of the closely +fitting scuttle, for the loft was so low and shallow that he had not +suspected its presence from an outside view; but now he was certain of +the fugitive's hiding-place. Virgie watched him, trembling, growing hot +in the pit of her little stomach; yet, when he faced her, she looked him +squarely in the eye, fighting one last battle for her daddy--as hopeless +as the tottering cause of the Stars and Bars. + +"You--you don't think he can fly, do you?" + +"No, little Rebel," the soldier answered gently, sadly; "but there are +other ways." He glanced at the table, measuring its height with the +pitch of the ceiling, then turned to her again: "Is your father in that +loft?" She made no answer, but began to back away. "Tell me the truth. +Look at me!" Still no answer, and he took a step toward her, speaking +sternly: "Do you hear me? _Look_ at me!" + +She tried; but her courage was oozing fast. She had done her best, but +now it was more than the mite could stand; so she bit her lip to stop +its quivering, and turned her head away. For a moment the man stood, +silent, wondering if it was possible that the child had been coached in +a string of lies to trade upon his tenderness of heart; then he spoke, +in a voice of mingled pity and reproach: + +"And so you told me a story. And all the rest--is a story, too. Oh, +Virgie! Virgie!" + +"I didn't!" she cried, the big tears breaking, out at last. "I didn't +tell you stories'. Only jus' a _little_ one--for Daddy--an' Gen'ral +Lee." + +She was sobbing now, and the man looked down upon her in genuine +compassion, his own eyes swimming at her childish grief, his soldier +heart athrob and aching at the duty he must perform. + +"I'm sorry, dear," he sighed, removing her doll and dragging the table +across the floor to a point directly beneath the scuttle in the ceiling. + +"What are you goin' to do?" she asked in terror, following as he moved. +"Oh, what are you goin' to do?" + +He did not reply. He could not; but when he placed a chair upon the +table and prepared to mount, then Virgie understood. + +"You shan't! You shan't!" she cried out shrilly. "He's my daddy--and you +shan't." + +She pulled at the table, and when he would have put her aside, as gently +as he could, she attacked him fiercely, in a childish storm of passion, +sobbing, striking at him with her puny fists. The soldier bowed his head +and moved away. + +"Oh, I can't! I can't!" he breathed, in conscience-stricken pain. "There +_must_ be some other way; and still--" + +He stood irresolute, gazing through the open door, watching his men as +they hunted for a fellow man; listening to the sounds that floated +across the stricken fields--the calls of his troopers; the locusts in +the sun-parched woods chanting their shrill, harsh litany of drought; +but more insistent still came the muffled boom of the big black guns far +down the muddy James. They called to him, these guns, in the +hoarse-tongued majesty of war, bidding him forget himself, his love, his +pity--all else, but the grim command to a marching host--a host that +must reach its goal, though it marched on a road of human hearts. + +The soldier set his teeth and turned to the little rebel, deciding on +his course of action; best for her, best for the man who lay in the +loft above, though now it must seem a brutal cruelty to both. + +"Well, Virgie," he said, "since you haven't told me what I want to know, +I'll have to take you--and give you to the Yankees." + +He stepped toward her swiftly and caught her by the wrist. She screamed +in terror, fighting to break his hold, while the trap above them opened, +and the head and shoulders of the Southerner appeared, his pistol held +in his outstretched hand. + +"Drop it, you hound!" he ordered fiercely. "Drop it!" + +The Northerner released his captive, but stood unmoved as he looked into +the pistol's muzzle and the blazing eyes of the cornered scout. + +"I'm sorry," he said, in quiet dignity. "I'm very sorry; but I had to +bring you out." He paused, then spoke again: "And you needn't bother +about your gun. If you'd had any ammunition, our fire would have been +returned, back yonder in the woods. The game's up, Cary. Come down!" + + + + +CHAPTER VI + + +The head and shoulders disappeared. A short pause followed, then the +ladder came slowly down, and the Southerner descended, while Virgie +crouched, a sobbing little heap, beside her doll. But when he reached +the bottom rung, she rose to her feet and ran to meet him, weeping +bitterly. + +"Oh, Daddy, Daddy, I didn't do it right! I didn't do it right!" + +She buried her head in his tattered coat, while he slipped an arm about +her and tried to soothe a sorrow too great for such a tiny heart to +bear. + +"But you did do it right," he told her. "It was my fault. Mine! My leg +got cramped, and I had to move." He stooped and kissed her. "It was _my_ +fault, honey; but you?--you did it _splendidly_!" He patted her +tear-stained cheek, then turned to his captor, with a grim, hard smile +of resignation to his fate. + +"Well, Colonel, you've had a long chase of it; but you've gotten my +brush at last." + +The Union soldier faced him, speaking earnestly: + +"Captain Cary, you're a brave man--and one of the best scouts in the +Confederate army. I regret this happening--more than I can say." The +Southerner shrugged his shoulders. His Northern captor asked: "Are you +carrying dispatches?" + +"No." + +"Any other papers?--of any kind?" No answer came, and he added sternly: +"It is quite useless to refuse. Give them to me." + +He held out his hand, but his captive only looked him in the eyes; and +the answer, though spoken in an undertone, held a world of quiet +meaning: + +"You can take it--_afterwards_." + +The Federal officer bit his lip; and yet he could not, would not, be +denied. His request became demand, backed by authority and the right of +might, till Virgie broke in, in a piping voice of indignation: + +"You can't have it! It's mine! My pass to Richmon'--from Gen'ral Lee." + +Morrison turned slowly from the little rebel to the man. + +"Is this true?" he asked. + +The Southerner flushed, and for reply produced the rumpled paper from +his boot leg, and handed it over without a word. The Northerner read it +carefully. + + "_Pass Virginia Cary and escort through all Confederate lines and + give safe-conduct wherever possible._ + + "R.E. LEE, _General_." + +The reader crushed the paper in his fist, while his hand sank slowly to +his side, then he raised his head and asked, in a voice which was +strangely out of keeping with a Lieutenant-Colonel of the Union Cavalry: + +"And who was to be her escort? You?" + +The captive nodded, smiling his sad, grim smile; and the captor +swallowed hard as he moved to the cabin door and stood listening to the +muttered rumble of the river guns. + +"I'm sorry, Cary," he whispered brokenly; "more sorry than you can +understand." + +For a long time no one spoke, then the Southerner went to Virgie, +dropping his hand in tenderness on her tumbled hair. + +"Just go into your room, honey; I want to talk to Colonel Morrison." She +looked up at him doubtfully; but he added, with a reassuring smile: +"It's all right, darling. I'll call you in just a minute." + +Still Virgie seemed to hesitate. She shifted her doubting eyes toward +the Union officer, turned, and obeyed in silence, closing the door of +the adjoining room behind her. Then the two men faced each other, +without the hampering presence of the child, each conscious of the +coming tragedy that both, till now, had striven manfully to hide. The +one moved forward toward a seat, staggering as he walked, and catching +himself on the table's edge, while the other's hand went out to lend him +aid; but the Southerner waved him off. + +"Thank you," he said, as he sank into a chair. "I don't _want_ +help--from _you_!" + +"Why not?" asked Morrison. + +"Because," said Cary, in sullen anger, "I don't ask quarter, nor aid, +from a man who frightens children." + +The Northerner's chin went up; and when he replied his voice was +trembling; not in passion, but with a deeper, finer something which had +gripped his admiration for the courage of a child: + +"And I wouldn't hurt a hair of her splendid little head!" He paused, +then spoke again, more calmly: "You thought me a beast to frighten her; +but don't you know it was the only thing to do? Otherwise my men might +have had to shoot you--before her eyes." Cary made no answer, though now +he understood; and Morrison went on: "It isn't easy for me to track a +fellow creature down; to take him when he's wounded, practically +unarmed, and turn him over to a firing squad. But it's war, my +friend--one of the merciless realities of war--and you ought to know the +meaning of its name." + +"Yes, I know," returned the Southerner, with all the pent-up bitterness +of a hopeless struggle and defeat; "it has taken three years to teach +me--_and I know_! Look at me!" he cried, as he stood up in his rags and +spread his arms. "Look at my country, swept as bare as a stubble field! +You've whipped us, maybe, with your millions of money and your endless +men, and now you are warring with the women and the children!" He turned +his back and spoke in the deep intensity of scorn: "A fine thing, +Colonel! And may you get your ... reward!" + +The Northerner set his lips in a thin, cold line; but curbed his wrath +and answered the accusation quietly: + +"There are two sides to the question, Cary; _but there must be one +flag_!" + +"Then fly your flag in justice!" the Southerner retorted hotly, wheeling +on his enemy, with blazing eyes and with hands that shook in the stress +of passion. "A while ago you called me a brave man and a good scout; +and, because I'm both, your people have set a price on me. Five hundred +dollars--alive or dead!" He laughed; a hoarse, harsh travesty of mirth, +and added, with a lip that curled in withering contempt: "Alive or dead! +A gentleman and a scout!--for just half the price of one good, sound +nigger! By Heaven, it makes me proud!" + +Lieutenant-Colonel Morrison looked across the table at his prisoner, and +answered gravely, yet with a touch of sternness in his military tone: + +"You are more than a scout, Cary. You've carried dispatches, and +intercepted ours; for both of which, if taken, you would have been a +prisoner of war, no more. But you've entered our lines--not in a uniform +of gray, _but blue_--and you've cost us the loss of two important +battles." + +"And had you done the same," returned the Southerner, "for you it would +have meant promotion. I've served my cause as best I could; in the +saddle or the rifle pit; in the woods, or creeping through your lines. +If I've cost you a battle, my life is a puny price to pay, and I'd pay +it without a sigh." He paused and sank into his seat. "For myself, I +don't care much. I'm worn out, anyway; and I only wanted to get my +little girl to Richmond." At the thought of Virgie his anger returned to +him, and he once more staggered to his feet. + +"But you," he accused, "you've beaten a baby by the force of arms! +You've run me to earth--and you've blocked her chance! It's Virgie you +are fighting now--not me--yes, just as if you rode her down with a troop +of horse! A fine thing, Colonel! For you, a brevet! For me, a firing +squad! Well, call in your men and get it over!" Again he smiled; a grim, +slow smile of bitterness and scorn. "Bravo, Colonel Morrison! Bravo! You +add one other glory to your conquering sword--and, besides, you'll +receive five hundred dollars in reward!" + +The Northerner turned upon him fiercely, goaded at last to the +breaking-point in a struggle as black and awful as the struggle of his +brother-foe. + +"Stop it, man!" he cried. "I order you to stop! It's duty!--not a +miserable reward!" His cheeks were flaming; his muscles quivered, and +his fists were clenched. "Do you actually suppose," he asked, "that I'm +proud of this? Do you think I'm wringing blood out of your heart and +mine--for money?" + +They faced each other, two crouching, snarling animals, the raw, +primeval passions of their hearts released, each seeing through a mist +of red; a mist that had risen up to roll across a mighty land and plunge +its noblest sons into a bloody ruck of war. + +They faced each other, silently; then slowly the features of the +Southerner relaxed. His bitterness was laid aside. He spoke, in the +soft, slow accent of his people--an accent so impossible to a trick of +print or pen. + +"I'm glad you feel that way; and maybe, after all, you're doing what you +think is right. Yes--and I know it's hard." He stopped, then stepped a +little nearer, timidly, as Virgie might have done. "Colonel," he said, +scarce audibly, "I ask you just one thing; not for myself, but for +her--for Virgie. Get the poor little tad through your lines, will +you?--and--and don't let her know--about _me_." + +His captor did not answer him in words, because of the pain that took +him by the throat; but his hand went out, till it reached another hand +that gripped it gratefully. + +"Thank you, Morrison," said the prisoner simply. "If it wasn't war +times--" + +He choked, and said no more; yet silence proved more eloquent than human +speech. They were men--brave men--and both were grateful; the one, +because an enemy would keep his unspoken word; the other, because a +doomed man understood. + +Cary opened the door of his daughter's room and called to her. She came +in quickly, a question in her big brown eyes. + +"Daddy," she said, "you talked a mighty long time. It was a heap more +than jus' a minute." + +"Was it?" he asked, and forced a smile. "Well, you see, we had a lot to +say." He seated himself and, drawing her between his knees, took both +her hands. "Now listen, honey; I'm going away with this gentleman, +and--" He stopped as she looked up doubtfully; then added a dash of +gayety to his tender tone: "Oh, but he _invited_ me. And think! He's +coming back for _you_--to-day--to send you up to Richmond. Now, isn't +that just fine?" + +Virgie looked slowly from her father to the Union soldier, who stood +with downcast eyes, his back to them. + +"Daddy," she whispered, "he's a right good Yankee--isn't he?" + +"Yes, dear," her father murmured sadly, and in yearning love for the +baby he must leave behind; "yes--he's mighty good!" + +He knelt and folded her in his arms, kissing her, over and over, while +his hand went fluttering about her soft brown throat; then he wrenched +himself away, but stood for a lingering instant more, his hands +outstretched, atremble for a last and lingering touch, his heart a +racing protest at the parting he must speak. + +"Cary!" + +It was Morrison who spoke, in mercy for the man; and once more Cary +understood. He turned to cross the broken door; to face a firing squad +in the hot, brown woods; to cross the gulf which stretched beyond the +rumble of the guns and the snarling lip of war. But even as he turned, a +baby's voice called out, in cheerful parting, which he himself had +failed to speak: + +"Good-by, Daddy-man. I'll see you up in Richmon'." + +The eyes of the two men met and held, in the hardest moment of it all; +for well they knew this hopeful prophecy could never be fulfilled. +Morrison sighed and moved toward the door; but, from its threshold, he +could see his troopers returning at a trot across the fields. + +"Wait," he said to Cary; "I'd rather my men shouldn't know I've talked +with you." He pointed to the scuttle in the ceiling. "Would you mind if +I asked you to go back again? Hurry! They are coming." + +The captured scout saluted, crossed to the ladder, and began to mount. +At the top he paused to smile and blow a kiss to Virgie, then +disappeared, drew up the ladder after him, and closed the trap. + +The captor stood in silence, waiting for his men; yet, while he stood, +the little rebel pattered to his side, slipping her hand in his +confidingly. + +"Mr. Yankee," she asked, and looked up into his face, "are you goin' to +let Daddy come to Richmon', too?" + +Morrison withdrew his hand from hers--withdrew it sharply--flung himself +into a seat beside the table, and began to scribble on the back of +Virgie's rumpled pass; while the child stood watching, trusting, with +the simple trust of her little mother-heart. + +In a moment or two, the troopers came hurrying in, with Corporal Dudley +in the lead. He stood at attention, saluted his superior, and made his +report of failure in the search. + +"Nothing sir. No tracks around the spring, and no traces of the fellow +anywhere; but--" He stopped. His keen eyes marked the changed position +of the table and followed upward. He saw the outlines of the scuttle +above his head, and smiled. "But I'm glad to see that you've had better +luck yourself." + +"Yes, Corporal," said Morrison, with a sharp return of his military +tone, "I think I've found the fox's hole at last." He rose and gave his +orders briskly. "Push that table forward!--there!--below the trap! Two +of you get on it!" He turned to the Corporal, while he himself climbed +up and stood beside his men. "Light that candle and pass it up to me!" +The orders were obeyed. "Now, boys, boost me!--and we'll have him out." + +They raised him, till he pushed the trap aside and thrust his head and +shoulders through the opening. From below they could see him as he waved +the lighted candle to and fro, and presently they heard his voice, that +sounded deep and muffled in the shallow loft: + +"All right, boys! You can let me down." + +He slid to the table and sprang lightly to the floor, facing his +troopers with a smile, half-humorous, half in seeming disappointment, as +he glanced at Virgie. + +"I'm afraid the little rebel's right again. _He isn't there!_" + +"Oh!" cried Virgie, then clapped her hands across her mouth, while the +troopers slowly looked from her into the level eyes of their commanding +officer. He stood before them, straight and tall, a soldier, every inch +of him; and they knew that Lieutenant-Colonel Morrison was lying like a +gentleman. They knew that their chief was staking the name and title of +an honorable soldier against the higher, grander title of "a man." + +Only Corporal Dudley stood disconcerted at the startling statement, but +as there was no help for it he could only strangle an oath and give the +order to pass out. + +"_'Tention! Right face! Forward! March!_" + +They mounted and rode a rod or two away, awaiting orders; while Morrison +stood silently and watched them go. He, too--like Virgie--had wrestled +with a problem, and it stirred him to the depths. As a trooper must +obey, so also must an officer obey a higher will; yes, even as a slave +in iron manacles. The master of war had made his laws; and a servant +broke them, knowingly. A captured scout was a prisoner, no more; a spy +must hang, or fall before the volley of a firing squad. No matter for +his bravery; no matter for the faithful service to his cause, the man +must die! The glory was for another; for one who waved a flag on the +spine of a bloody trench; a trench which his brothers stormed--and gave +the blood. No matter that a spy had made this triumph possible. He had +worn a uniform which was not his own--and the dog must die! + +So ruled the god of warfare; still, did war prescribe disgrace and death +for all? If Cary had crept through the Union lines, to reach the side of +a helpless little one--_yes, even in a coat of blue_--would the Great +Tribunal count his deed accursed? Should fearless human love reap no +reward beyond the crashing epitaph of a firing squad, and the powder +smoke that drifted with the passing of a soul? + +"No! No!" breathed Morrison. "In God's name, give the man his chance!" + +He straightened his back and smiled. He took from the table a rumpled +paper and turned to the littlest factor in the great Rebellion. + +"Here, Virgie! Here's your pass to Richmond--for you and your +escort--through the Federal lines." + +She came to him slowly, wondering; her tiny body quivering with +suppressed excitement, her voice a whispering caress: + +"Do you mean for--for Daddy, too?" + +"Yes, you little rebel!" he answered, choking as he laughed; "but I'm +terribly afraid you'll have to pay me--with a kiss." + +She sprang into his waiting arms, and kissed him as he raised her up; +but when he would have set her down, her little brown hands, with their +berry-stained fingers, clung tightly about his neck. + +"Wait! Wait!" she cried. "Here's another one--for Gertrude! Tell her +it's from Virgie! An' tell her I sent it, 'cause her daddy is jus' the +best damn Yankee that ever was!" + +The trap above had opened, and the head and shoulders of the Southerner +appeared; while Morrison looked up and spoke in parting: + +"It's all right, Cary. I only ask a soldier's pledge that you take your +little girl to Richmond--nothing more. In passing through our lines, +whatever you see or hear--_forget_!" + +A sacred trust it was, of man to man, one brother to another; and +Morrison knew that Herbert Cary would pass through the very center of +the Federal lines, as a _father_, not a spy. + +The Southerner tried to speak his gratitude, but the words refused to +come; so he stretched one trembling hand toward his enemy of war, and +eased his heart in a sobbing, broken call: + +"_Morrison! Some day it will all--be over!_" + + * * * * * + +In the cabin's doorway stood Virgie and her father, hand in hand. They +watched a lonely swallow as it dipped across the desolate, unfurrowed +field. They listened to the distant beat of many hoofs on the river road +and the far, faint clink of sabers on the riders' thighs; and when the +sounds were lost to the listeners at last, the notes of a bugle came +whispering back to them, floating, dipping, even as the swallow dipped +across the unfurrowed fields. + +But still the two stood lingering in the doorway, hand in hand. The +muddy James took up his murmuring song again; the locusts chanted in the +hot, brown woods to the basso growl of the big, black guns far down the +river. + +A sad, sad song it was; yet on its echoes seemed to ride a haunting, +hopeful memory of the rebel's broken call, "Some day it will all be +over!" + +And so the guns growled on, slow, sullen, thundering forth the +battle-call of a still unconquered enmity; but only that peace might +walk "some day" in the path of the shrieking shells. + + + + +CHAPTER VII + + +It was afternoon and over on the eastern side of the James where the old +Turnpike leads up over the rolling hills to Richmond the sun was pouring +down a flood of heat. The 'pike was ankle deep with dust and the fine, +white powder, churned into floury softness by artillery and the myriad +iron heels of war, had settled down on roadside bush and tree and vine +till all the sweet green of summer hung its head under the hot weight +and longed for a cooling shower which would wash it clean. + +In fairer times the Pike had been an active thoroughfare for the +plantations and hundreds of smaller truck farms which fed the capitol, +but of late months nearly all this traffic had disappeared. For the days +of the Confederacy were drawing slowly but none the less surely to a +close. + +Inside the breastworks and far flung fortifications which encompassed +Richmond the flower of the rebel arms, the Army of Northern Virginia, +lay like a rat caught in a trap. On three sides, north, east and south +the Army of the Potomac under Grant beleaguered the city while the +tireless Sheridan, with that lately developed arm of the Federals, the +cavalry, raided right and left and struck hard blows at the crumbling +cause where they were least expected. Yet in this same dark hour there +had been a ray of light. Once the Confederacy had come within +hairbreadth of overwhelming success, for Early's hard riding troopers +had made a dash for Washington but a few weeks before and, with the +prize almost in their grasp, had only been turned back by a great force +which the grim, watchful Grant suddenly threw in between their guns and +the gleaming dome of the nation's capitol. + +But even this small success was not for long for when Early, crossing +over into the luscious valley of the Shenandoah, began to scourge it +with his hosts and threaten a raid into Pennsylvania, Sheridan broke +loose from the restriction of telegraph wires and followed him to the +death and finally broke the back of the great raid with his mad gallop +from Winchester. + +Meanwhile around Richmond, Lee and Grant, a circle within a circle, were +constantly feeling each other out, shifting their troops from point to +point in attack and defense,--for all the world like two fighting dogs +hunting for an opening in the fence. And all the time the grim, quiet +man in blue kept contracting his lines around the wonderful tactician in +gray until the whole world came to know that unless Lee could break +through the gap to the southwest the end of the war was plainly in +sight. + +And so it happened that on this hot July day the only sign of life on +the 'pike was a small cloud of dust which drifted lazily in the wake of +two people who passed along the road on foot. + +One of the two was a tired, gaunt man in a ragged uniform of gray who +stared up the long, hot road ahead of him with eyes in which there was, +in spite of every discouragement the light of a certain firm resolve. + +The other of the two was a child with bare, brown legs and tattered +gingham dress who limped painfully along beside the man, her sunny hair +in a tangle half across her pinched and weary little face. + +At a faint sigh of exhaustion from the child the man looked down, +gathered her up in his arms and perched her on his shoulder. Then he +plodded on again, a prey to weariness and hunger. The turning point in +Herbert Cary's life had come. Thanks to a generous enemy; Virgie and he +were now reasonably sure of food if once they could reach the +Confederate lines but as for himself, with the woman he had loved asleep +forever beneath the pines, the future could only be an unending, barren +stretch of gray. + +Then, almost as quickly, recollection of his duty towards her whom he +carried in his arms came to him and he raged at himself for his moment +of selfish discouragement. Spurred on by the necessity of gaining a +point of safety for his child he began to calculate the distance yet to +be covered and their chances of gaining friendly lines before +encountering scouting parties of Federals. Behind him, a few miles south +on the other bank of the James at Light House Point Sheridan was in camp +with two brigades and Cary knew this fast riding, hard striking +cavalryman too well not to suspect that the country, even in front of +him, was alive with Union men. There was the pass which Morrison had +given him, of course, but the worth of a pass in war time often depends +more on him who receives it than on the signature. + +But all those things, even food, would have to wait for a while because +he was consumed with thirst and must find water before he went another +mile forward. + +A tired sigh from Virgie caught his ear and he stopped by a stone wall +and let her get down from his shoulder. The child stood up on the broad, +flat stones and then gave a little cry of pain. She raised one foot up +and nursed it against her dusty, brown leg, meanwhile clutching her doll +closer to her neck. + +"It's all right, honey; be a brave little girl," her father said +consolingly. "There's a spring along here somewhere and we can look +after that poor little foot. Ah, there it is," he cried, as he caught +sight of a big rock behind a stone wall with a seepage of water under it +among some trees at one side. "Just sit still a minute--till I rest--and +then we'll have a look." He leaned back against the wall and closed his +eyes to shut out the dizziness with which exhaustion and hunger filled +his aching head. + +The child watched him anxiously for a moment and then put a soft little +hand on his shoulder: + +"Are you _so_ tired, Daddy-man?" + +"Yes, dear," he answered with a faint smile as he opened his eyes. "I +had to catch my breath, but I'm really all right. Now then, we'll call +in the hospital corps." + +Virgie slipped down and sat on the top of the wall with her foot in her +hand, rocking to and fro, but bravely saying nothing until her father's +eye caught the look of pain on her pinched face. + +"Does it hurt you much, dear?" he asked. + +"Yes, sir. It--it hurts like the mischief," answered Virgie in a small +voice. "It keeps jumping up and down." + +"Little woman, that's too bad," he said with a consoling pat on the head +which seemed to take most of the pain away. "But after we bathe it and +tie it up it will feel better." + +Kneeling beside the spring he took off his campaign hat of felt and +dipped it full of clear, cold water. + +"Wow!" cried Virgie suddenly in the interval and she slapped her leg +with a resounding whack. "There are 'skeeters roun' this place. One of +'em bit me--an old _he_ one. Jiminy!" + +"Did he?" asked her father, smiling as he came back with the hat. "Well, +honey, there are much worse things in this world than those little +fellows and if you don't complain any more than that you're going to be +a very happy lady when you grow up." + +"Like Mamma?" asked the little tot, with a thoughtful face. + +"Just like Mamma," the man repeated. "The loveliest--the bravest--and +the _best_." He wavered a little on his feet and the hat threatened to +slip through his fingers, but his daughter's great, dark eyes were +steady on his and, curiously enough, he seemed to draw strength to pull +himself together. + +"And now, let's see. We'll have to get the grime off first. Just dip the +little wounded soldier in." + +"What! My foot in your hat!" protested Virgie with a little scream. "Oh, +you poor daddy!" + +"Why, that's all right, honey," he laughed, pleased at her daintiness. +"That hat's an old veteran. He don't mind anything. So--souse her in. + +"There--easy now--_easy_" as she threatened to capsize this curious +basin. "Big toe first. + +"Yes, I know it's cold," he laughed as the water stung the broken skin +and made her twitch involuntarily, "but bathing will do it good. I just +know it feels better already--doesn't it?" + +"Yes, sir," answered Virgie meekly, "only--it jumps up and down harder +than ever. But of course I know it must be getting better." + +"Good! What did I tell you? Now let Daddy look." + +He lifted her foot up tenderly and examined it with care. "My, my!" he +murmured. "You poor little soldier. If I hadn't looked around that time +I expect you'd been willing to walk all the way to Richmond on a foot +that would make a whole regiment straggle. Just see where you've cut +it--right under the second little piggie. We'll have to tie it right up +and keep the bothersome old dust from getting in. By morning you'll +hardly feel it." + +With a soldier's readiness he opened his coat and began to tear a strip +from his shirt from which to make a bandage. But his small daughter +interrupted him with a vigorous protest. + +"Wait!" she cried, with a face full of alarm at the willful destruction +of his garment. "Don't do that. Here! You can take it off my petticoat." + +"_That_ petticoat," her father laughed, with the first real mirth she +had heard for many weeks. "That poor little petticoat wouldn't make an +arm bandage for Susan Jemima. Now--up with your hoofie and let's play +I'm a surgeon and you're a brave soldier who has fought in every battle +since we first made the Yanks skedaddle at Bull Run." + +With the painful foot securely bandaged the little girl gave herself up +to thought, emerging from her study at last to ask what was an +all-important question. + +"Daddy--" + +"Yes?" + +"Do you reckon, by the time the war is over, we could call Susan Jemima +a vet'ran?" + +"I should say we could," the father agreed heartily, without the symptom +of a smile. "Hasn't she grown bald in the service? And hasn't she almost +lost an arm--or is it a leg I see dangling so terribly? I'll tell you +what we'll do! We'll give her an honorable discharge--and decorate her. +How's that?" + +"Oh, fine!" she cried, clapping her hands with delight at the fantasy. +"And we'll get that Yankee man to write her a pass just like mine. Do +you hear that, Cap'n Susan," she crooned to the doll, unconscious of the +convulsion of silent amusement beside her. "When we get to Richmon'--if +we ever _do_ get there--I'm going to make you a uniform!" + +Then she turned to her father with a little sigh, for the miles seemed +very long. + +"How far _is_ it to Richmon', Daddy-man?" she said. + +"Just about twelve miles," her father answered. "But they're real old +country miles, I'm sorry to say." + +"Can we get to it to-night?" + +The simple little question made the man's heart ache. What wouldn't he +give for an hour of Roger once more--or Belle--or Lightfoot! +Anything--even one of the old plantation mules would do if he could only +perch her up on its back and take her into Richmond like a lady and not +like the daughter of poor white trash, tramping, poverty stricken, along +a dusty road. + +"No, dear, not to-night," he sighed. "We've come a long way and we're +both tired. So when it gets dark we'll curl up somewhere in the nice, +sweet woods and take a snooze, just like camping out. And then--in the +morning, when the old sun comes sneaking up through the trees, we'll +fool him! We won't wait till he can make it hot, but we'll get right up +with the birds and the squirrels and we'll just run right along. And by +twelve o'clock we'll be in Richmond--where they have good things to eat. +So there you are--all mapped out. Only now we'll have a belt supper." + +"A belt supper?" queried the child curiously, though her face brightened +at the thought of _any_ kind of supper, made out of belts or any other +thing. + +"Um-hum," asseverated her father gravely. "See--this is the way it's +done." + +He cupped his hands and took a draught from the spring, pretending to +chew it as it went down. "You take a big drink of nice cold water; then +draw up your belt as tight as you can--and say your prayers." + +To his surprise his small daughter only sniffed scornfully. + +"Oh, shucks, Daddy! I know a better way than that. Susan an' me used to +do it all the time while you were away." + +"What did you do?" he asked curiously, for he had forgotten that more +than half the childish play world is the world of "make believe.'" + +"Why, we--we just '_let on_,'" she answered, with simple naivete. "Sit +down an' I'll show you how." + +He sat down obediently, but not before he had picked up an old tin can +from nearby and set it carefully between them. + +"This rock is our table--the moss is the table cloth. Oh, it isn't +green," she cried as he looked down in serious doubt. "You must _help_ +me make believe. Now--doesn't it look nice and white?" + +"It does, indeed. I can see nothing but snowy linen of the finest +texture," he responded instantly. + +"That's better," complimented his hostess. And then with a grand air-- + +"I'm so glad you dropped in, sir--an' just at supper time. Pass your +plate an' allow me to help you to some batter bread." + +"Batter bread! Ah, just what I was hoping for," her guest replied, +thankfully extending his plate for the imaginary feast. + +"Thank you. Delicious. The very best I've tasted for a year. Did you +make it yourself?" + +"Oh, dear, no--the cook." + +"Ah, of course! Pray pardon me, I might have known." + +The little hostess inclined her head. "Take plenty of butter. 'Cause +batter bread isn't good 'thout butter." + +"Thank you--what lovely golden butter. And--goodness gracious! What is +this I see before me? Can this really be a sausage?" + +"Yes, sir," laughed Virgie with delight. "And there's the ham. I smoked +it myself over hick'ry wood. Please help yourself." + +She pretended to arrange a cup and saucer in front of her and held +daintily in her fingers a pair of imaginary sugar tongs. + +"Coffee? How many lumps? And _do_ you take cream?" + +"Five, please--and a little cream. There--just right." + +She passed the cup gracefully and added a little moue of concern for the +efficiency of her menage. + +"I'm afraid you won't find it very hot," said this surprising young +hostess. "That butler of mine is growing absolutely _wuthless_." + +"Then perhaps we can have something better," her guest responded +readily, and he picked up the battered old tin can. "Permit me, Miss +Cary, to offer you a glass of fine old blackberry wine which I carefully +brought with me to your beautiful home. It has been in my family wine +cellars since 1838. + +"Well--" he cried, as Virgie suddenly sat back with a look of painful +recollection on her face. + +"Oh, Daddy," she murmured pathetically, "_don't_ let's call it +_blackberry_ wine." + +"Forgive me, darling," her father said tenderly, and he took the small +face between his hands and kissed her. "There, now--it's all right. It's +_all right_." + +To create a diversion he looked behind him with a frown and spoke with +great severity to an imaginary waiter. + +"Here, _Jo_! How dare you bring such terribly reminiscent stuff to our +table. Go get the port. + +"We'll surely have to discharge that butler," he said. "He's too +shiftless. And now, fair lady, will you honor me by joining the humblest +of your admirers in a sip of port." + +"With pleasure," answered his hostess, and lifted the can of water in +both hands. "Your health, sir. May your shadow never grow littler." + +Half way through her drink Virgie stopped and slowly put the can down. +She looked at her father, who already had his finger at his lips. Voices +had come to them from down the road--the sounds of a party of men +talking and laughing as they marched along. + +Cary's face took on again the grim lines which had been wiped away +momentarily by their little bit of play. He was trying to make himself +believe that the approaching party might be friends, although he knew +only too well that such a possibility was full of doubt. There were too +many scouting parties of Federals ready to pounce on Rebel patrols in +these perilous days to allow any but large forces of men to venture far +from Richmond, and when his own men sallied forth they did not go with +laughter but with tightly drawn, silent lips. + +"S-s-s-h," he whispered, and held up his finger again, as she seemed +ready to burst into questioning. + +Immediately she snuggled close to him and whispered hotly in his ear, +"Who are they, Daddy?" + +"I don't know, honey," he whispered back. "But I'm afraid they're Yanks. +Keep quiet till they pass." And quickly deserting the stone under the +trees where they had had their "belt supper" he drew her with him behind +the large ledge of rock from under which the spring flowed out. Looking +behind them he saw that with good luck they could reach the shelter of +the woods and get up over the hill without being seen. But just now they +could not stir from their hiding place unless--unless the men were +Confederates. This faint hope, however, soon flickered out when he saw +the color of their uniforms. + +Up the road came four dismounted men with a corporal in command. They +were taking it easy as they walked along, their caps thrust back, their +coats open and their Sharps' carbines carried in the variety of ways +that a soldier adopts to ease his shoulder of the burden that grows +heavier with every mile. + +"Here's the place, boys," the Corporal called out as his eye fell on the +spring. "We can get some decent water, now. That James River water's too +yellow for any white man to put inside of him." + +At the sound of a voice which he had heard that same morning while he +hid in the attic of the overseer's cabin Cary's hold on his daughter's +hand tightened warningly. + +"Come along, Virgie," he whispered. "We'll get out of the way." + +"But, Daddy," she protested in low tones, "we've got our pass." + +"Yes, yes, I know," he answered, with a twinge of regret that the rest +of the world could not trust so faithfully to human kindness. "But +that's for emergency. Come along, honey--quick!" + +Silently as a shadow the two stole out of the shelter of the ledge of +rock, and by dint of keeping it between them and the troopers, managed +to cover most of the open space between the spring and the protecting +trees without being seen. Meanwhile, they heard the Corporal giving his +commands. + +"You, Collins, take sentry duty out there in the road for a while. As +soon as we make the coffee we'll bring you out a cup. Now--over the wall +with you, men." + +Leaving one man behind to pace slowly up and down the dusty road the +four sprang over the wall and advanced towards the spring. It was well +the sight of the cool water held their eyes for if they had only looked +up they might have seen Virgie wresting her hand out of her father's +grasp and standing suddenly petrified with the thought that she had left +behind her one beloved possession. + +"Here's the spring, Smith--under the rock. Fill up the canteens. Here, +Harry, help me get fire wood." + +With a soldier's readiness when it comes to making camp one of the +troopers promptly collected the canteens and knelt down by the spring, +carefully submerging one at a time so as to get the sweet, cold water in +all its purity. Another opened the knapsacks and took out a can of +coffee, biscuits and some scraps of meat--not much with which to make a +meal but still so much more than many a Rebel soldier had that day as to +take on the proportions of a feast. Meanwhile, Corporal Dudley had drawn +his saber and was engaged in leisurely lopping off the dead branches of +a fallen tree. + +"This strikes me a lot better than the camp," he remarked as he tossed +his firewood into a heap. "A man and his friends can have a quiet drink +here, without treating a whole battalion." + +His eye fell on the ground near the spring as he spoke and he paused. +Then, with a grin on his face, he jabbed his saber into something which +lay there and held it transfixed on the point. + +"Say, boys--look at this," and he shook poor Susan Jemima till her arms +and legs wiggled spasmodically and her dress seemed on the point of +complete disintegration. + +Perhaps, if Corporal Dudley had not laughed derisively Virgie might have +stayed hidden in the protection of the trees, but this outrageous +insult combined with the terrible sight of poor Susan Jemima impaled on +a Yankee sword was too much for her bursting heart. With blazing eyes +she broke away from her father and dashed back to the group at the +spring. + +"Here, you! You stop that," she cried angrily at the astonished +troopers, who caught up their carbines at the sound of feet. "_How dare +you!_" + +There was a moment of surprise and then the four broke out in guffaws of +laughter. + +"Well, hang me if it isn't the little girl we saw this morning," shouted +Dudley, without, however, stopping the torture of the defenseless Susan +Jemima. "Where did _you_ drop from?" + +"Ne'm min' where I dropped from," commanded the wrathful Virgie with her +dark eyes like twin stars of hate. "You're the meanest old thing I ever +saw. _Give me back my baby!_" + +Back in the trees a little way a man was watching with a heavy heart. He +knew only too well what was to come. No matter what the final outcome +might be when he showed his safe-guard to his own army's lines there +would be a delay and searching questions and more of the old insults +which always made his blood boil--which always made the increasing +burden of despair still harder to bear. But there was no use in putting +off the trial--Virgie had slipped away in spite of every whispered +remonstrance and now that she was there in the center of that group of +guffawing Yankees, there, too, was the only place for him. And so, he +stepped out swiftly and faced the enemy. + +"Hah!" shouted Dudley, looking up at the sound of branches crackling +underfoot. "A Johnnie Reb, eh--walking right into camp! That's right, +Harry, keep him covered." + +He looked Cary over from head to foot with a sneer at his tattered +uniform. + +"Well, sir," he asked, "who are you?" + +"A Confederate officer," was the quiet reply, "acting as escort for this +child. We are on our way to Richmond." + +Cary's hand went into the breast of his coat and he drew out a folded +paper. + +"Here is my authority for entering your lines--a pass signed by +Lieutenant-Colonel Morrison." + +At the sound of the name Corporal Dudley started and quickly took the +paper. But before he opened it he gave Cary a keen look which, to the +Confederate officer, did not bode well for the prospect of immediate +release. It seemed as if the man's sharp wits had suddenly seized on +something which he could profitably turn to his own account. + +With his back turned on Cary and Virgie the Corporal unfolded the pass +and studied it carefully, while the troopers gathered behind him and +tried to read its contents over his shoulder. + +"Pwhat does it say?" asked the young Irishman, Harry O'Connell, who had +covered Cary with his carbine. "'Tis a precious bit of paper, bedad--if +it passes him through _me_." + +"It says: 'Pass Virginia Cary and escort through all Federal lines, and +assist them as far as possible in reaching Richmond,'" read the +Corporal. + +Deep in thought he turned the paper over and studied the name on the +back. At the sight of the signature there his mouth fell open and he +uttered a shout of surprise. His eyes brightened and he stepped back +from the group and threw up his head with a look of triumph on his dark +face. He struck the paper a slap with the back of his hand. + +"Morrison on _one_ side--and 'Old Bob' on the _other_" he exclaimed. +"What luck! What a _find_." + +"How so--a find?" + +The man who had had to put his own brother under arrest a few short +weeks before and then had seen him shot through the heart by this same +officer whose name was on the pass looked at the questioner with an ugly +glitter in his eyes. He was beginning to taste already the sweets of +revenge. For blood ties bind, no matter how badly they are stretched, +and long ago Corporal Dudley had sworn to wipe out his grudge. + +"Why, man, can't you see?" he whispered excitedly. "This Johnnie Reb is +the man that was hiding in the cabin loft this morning. Morrison lied +when he said he wasn't there--you remember, he was the only one who +looked--he lied and as soon as he got us out of the way he let him come +down and he gave him _this_. Could any man ask for better proof that we +had the spy right in our hands and then our commanding officer +deliberately let him go?" + +At the sound of the man's excited whispering Cary's fears as to the +value of Virgie's pass grew too strong to warrant this agony of watching +and waiting, and he stepped forward with a sharp question: + +"Well, Corporal, isn't the pass satisfactory?" + +"Oh, perfectly--perfectly," Dudley answered with baleful readiness, but +made no move to return it. + +Cary put out his hand. "Then I would like to have it again, if you +please." + +By way of answer Corporal Dudley carefully found an inside pocket and +buttoned the pass up in his coat. "Oh, no, you don't," he said, with an +evil grin. "I've got a better use for that little piece of paper." + +"What do you mean?" + +"I mean that you're my prisoner, Mister Johnnie Reb," was the brutal +answer. + +"For what?" asked Cary, while his heart grew sick inside him and his +lips twitched. Richmond--and food for Virgie were growing farther away +every moment. + +"Because you're a Rebel _spy_, that's why," came the biting answer. + +"Oh--none of that," as Cary's fists doubled up and he made a forward +step at the Corporal. "I guess you know what's good for you, with three +guns at your back. If Colonel Morrison wouldn't take you as a spy, _I +will!_" + +"Here, boys," he said in brusque command to his men, "we'll have to cut +the supper and take this man to camp. There'll be a sunrise hanging +to-morrow or I miss my guess. Come on, now. Bring him along." + +"Wait a minute, Corporal," O'Connell said. "Sure I've something to say +to ye," and he led him aside where the others could not bear. + +All unconscious of the fatal predicament into which Susan Jemima and +she had got them Virgie looked up at her father from where she stood in +the shelter of his arm. + +"Daddy," she questioned, in a small, puzzled voice, "what are they going +to do?" + +"S-s-s-h," her father commanded as he patted her head comfortingly. +"Everything will be all right, honey, I'm sure." But he had caught +enough of the Corporal's altercation with Trooper O'Connell to make him +see that things were very far from being what he wanted Virgie to +suppose. + +"Ye'd better be careful now," O'Connell said to Dudley. "Ye know well +that if the pass is all right ye'll be getting yerself into a peck o' +trouble." + +"It isn't _me_ that'll get in trouble," Dudley answered, with grim +triumph. "It's someone else." + +"Faith, then, _who_?" was the query. + +"_Morrison_," snapped Dudley, with an ominous click of his teeth. + +"The Colonel? Why?" + +"_Because he helped this spy escape!_ that's why. He killed my brother, +shot him. Shot him down like a dog. But now I'm even with him." + +He shook the pass under the trooper's nose and crowed with satisfaction. + +"I've been waiting for a chance like this," he chortled, "and now I'm +going to make him sweat--sweat blood." + +"Don't be a fool, Corporal," the trooper counseled. "What'll ye be after +doin'?" + +"_Report him, at headquarters_--for helping a spy escape! If I have the +man and _this_," and he slapped the paper, "it'll mean his sword and +shoulder straps--if not a bullet! Come on!" + +He turned away, to scramble over the wall, but Trooper O'Connell caught +his arm. + +"Hold on! Ye may get in trouble." + +In answer Dudley broke away and doggedly kept on towards the stone wall +and the road. "Keep off," he snarled. "_I'm_ running this." + +"I know ye are," the trooper replied, "but wait," and he pointed to the +rear. "Don't forgit that the Colonel's out yonder reconnoiterin'. If he +happened to overtake ye on the road--" + +Struck with the sudden thought Dudley paused. "Well, that's so," he +growled as he saw how easily he could be held for disobeying orders and +how quickly all his plans for vengeance could be smashed. He stood still +for a moment gnawing his lip, then suddenly struck his doubled fist into +the palm of the other hand. + +"Then you stay here to guard the prisoner," he said. "I'll cut through +the woods--make my report--come back with the horses--and my authority." + +"Here, Smith! You and Judson come along with me. Never mind the grub. +We'll get that later." + +Turning to O'Connell, "If you hear anyone coming, take those two into +the woods. Collins! You'll have to stay on sentry duty till I get back. +If any troops pass here, get out of sight at once and give Harry +warning. Now, boys--come along with me--we'll take it on the trot," and +climbing quickly over the wall the man who held two lives in the hollow +of his hand ran down the road with the two troopers, finally cutting +over into the woods and disappearing from view. + +Gary and Virgie stood still by the spring. Out in the road the sentry +paced back and forth. Behind them Trooper O'Connell stood on guard, his +carbine in his arms across his breast. + +Virgie pulled gently at her father's hand. + +"Daddy," she whispered, "are they--are they goin' to carry us off to the +Yankee camp?" + +"I'm afraid so, darling, but I don't know," he answered sadly. "We'll +just have to wait. Wait," he repeated, as he sat down on a rock and drew +her close to him. Without being seen either by Virgie or O'Connell he +picked up a jagged stone the size of his fist and hid it under his knee +against the rock. It would be a poor weapon at best, but Cary had grown +desperate and if the trooper once turned his back and gave him +opportunity poor Harry O'Connell would wake up with a very bad headache +and Virgie would be in Richmond. + +But Virgie's eyes were on neither the hidden stone nor her father's +watchful, relentless face. All that Virgie could see was a knapsack open +on the ground and food--real food displayed round about with a +prodigality which made her mouth water and her eyes as big as saucers. + +"Daddy," she murmured, clutching at his sleeve, "while we are waitin' do +you reckon we could take just a _little_ bit of that?" + +"No, dear--not now," her father answered, with a touch of impatience. It +would be too much, even in those bitter times, to accept a man's food +and then break his head for it. + +"Well," said Virgie, completely mystified at the restraint, "I don't see +why they shouldn't be polite to us. We were just as polite as could be +when the Yankees took our corn." + +Just then the young Irishman with the carbine turned around and caught +the wan look on Virgie's face and the hunger appeal in her big dark +eyes. At once a broad smile broke over his freckled countenance and he +gestured hospitably with his gun. + +"Have somethin' to eat, little wan." + +Cary's knee loosened. The jagged stone fell to the ground. + +"Thank you, old fellow," he cried, springing to his feet. "I can't show +my gratitude to you in any substantial way at present--but God bless +you, just the same." He dropped down on the rock again and hid his face +in his hands. Another moment and the kindhearted trooper might have been +lying face downwards in the muddy ground around the spring. It had been +only touch-and-go, but the man's warm Irish heart had saved him. + +"Oh, that's all right, sir," O'Connell answered freely. "Sure an' _I'd_ +like to see ye get through, though I ain't the Gineral. At least, not +yet," he grinned. + +"There ye are, little girl," he went on, pushing the knapsack over +towards Virgie with the muzzle of his carbine. "Jist help yerself--an' +give yer dad some, too." + +With a little cry of delight Virgie swooped down on the knapsack and +explored its interior with eager hands. + +"I'm much obliged, Mr. Yankee. We cert'ny do need it--bad." She tossed +the tangled hair back from her eyes and looked thankfully up at this +curious person who had so much food that he could really give part of it +away. "Please, Mr. Yankee--won't you tell me your name?" + +"Harry O'Connell, at your service, miss." + +"Thank you," she bowed. "I'm very glad to meet you." Then her searching +hands found something wonderful in the knapsack and she sprang up and +ran with her prizes to her father. + +"Look, Daddy--_two biscuits!_ Take one. It's--it's _real_!" + +Cary's eyes grew moist. + +"Thank you, darling. Thank you." Just now the lump in his throat would +not have allowed him to eat soup, let alone a rather hard biscuit, but +he looked up with a laugh and waved a genial salute to the trooper, who +as genially responded. + +Virgie, however, had become quite single minded since she had discovered +food, and with a happy sigh she raised the biscuit to her lips. Just +then the sentry in the road flung up his hand with a shout. + +"Look out, O'Connell! They're coming," and he clambered quickly over the +wall and dropped behind it, his gun in readiness. + +"What is it?" demanded the other trooper. + +"Detachment of cavalry. A small one." + +"But whose is it, man. Can ye not see?" + +Collins, holding his hand behind him in a gesture which commanded them +to stay where they were, raised his head cautiously over the wall. + +"Morrison's," he answered, after a quick look, and he dropped down again +out of sight. + +At the sound of hoof beats and the name she remembered so well Virgie, +with her biscuit all untasted, sprang up from the ground as if she would +run out on the road. But her father caught her, for O'Connell had turned +to them with a serious face. + +"I'm sorry, sir, but I'll have to trouble ye to get under cover in the +woods. No argymint, sir," he said decisively, as he saw some show of +resistance on Cary's part. "I'm under orders." + +"Yes, yes, I know," Cary cried, impatiently, "but I want to speak to +Colonel Morrison. I _must_ speak to him. Give me a moment, man. You +won't ever regret it." + +"Come now--none o' that," commanded the trooper, pushing him back with +the carbine across his breast. "Don't make me use force, sir. Ye'll have +to go--so go quietly. And mind--no shenanigan!" + +Cary stood his ground for a moment, meeting the trooper eye to eye--then +turned with hanging head and walked a few steps back into the woods. + +"Come, Virgie," he said, "I guess we won't get to see Colonel Morrison +after all." + +But Virgie, being a woman, had her own ideas about what she would or +would not do. At the same moment that the trooper was forcing her father +step by step back into the woods, Virgie was running madly towards the +stone wall and before either of the soldiers could stop her she had +clambered up on its broad top and was calling out to a man who clattered +by at the head of a troop of cavalry. + +"Colonel Morrison! Colonel Morrison!" + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + + +"Halt!" + +At the sound of that piping, childish treble calling his name in so +unexpected a place the officer at the head of the troop threw up his +gauntleted hand and brought the detachment to a standstill in a cloud of +dust. + +"Hello, there," he said, turning curiously around in his saddle. "Who is +it wants me?" + +"It's _me_, Virgie!" the child cried, leaping up and down on the wall, +all forgetful of her sore foot. "Come help Daddy and me--come quick!" + +"Well--what on earth--" + +Morrison threw out a command to his men and, wheeling his horse, spurred +vigorously up to the wall where he dismounted and came up to take a +closer view of the tangle haired little person dancing on one foot. + +"Why--bless my soul if it isn't Virgie!" His arms opened to take her in +when, suddenly, his eye fell on O'Connell, standing at attention on the +other side of the wall. + +"O'Connell," he said, sternly, "what is the meaning of this? Why aren't +you with your detachment?" + +"It isn't _his_ fault," Virgie interposed in stout defense of the nice +Yankee who carried biscuits in his knapsack. "He's under orders." + +The glib use of the military term made a smile flicker across Morrison's +face, but his eyes did not leave the troubled trooper. + +"_Whose_ orders?" he demanded. + +"Corporal Dudley, sir," was the stammering answer. + +At this moment Cary stepped forward and the two officers exchanged nods +of recognition. + +"Let me explain," the Confederate said. "Virgie and I were making for +Richmond as rapidly as we could. Here, by this spring, we were put under +arrest by a corporal and four troopers. Naturally, I presented your +pass, but the corporal refused to honor it. He then left me under guard +and hurried off to headquarters with the pass in his possession." + +At this unwelcome news Morrison's head jerked back as if he had been +struck and his lips tightened. Without the addition of another word to +Cary's story he saw all the dire consequences to himself of what had +been an act of the commonest humanity. Yes, in other times it would have +been what any right thinking human being would have done for another in +distress, but, unhappily, this was war time and the best of motives were +only too often mis-read. In his mind's eye he saw the vindictive Dudley, +eager for a revenge which he could not encompass any other way, laying +the proof of this act before his superiors with an abundance of +collateral evidence which, he knew, would condemn him before any +military tribunal in the world. It mattered not what kindly impulses had +guided his hand when he wrote the safeguard on the other side of the +paper on which Robert E. Lee had previously placed his name, for it is +not the custom of courts martial to weigh the milk of human kindness +against the blood and iron of war. The good and the safety of the +greater number demand the sacrifice of every man who would imperil the +cause by ill considered generosity. Morrison could see that very +presently he would have to answer certain stern questions. + +Yet, there was a chance still that Dudley might be headed off and this +whole miserable business stopped before revenge could set the inexorable +wheels in motion and he whirled round on O'Connell with a sharp +question: + +"Which way did Dudley go?" + +"Down the pike, then over the hill by the wood road, sor--makin' for +headquarters," the young Irishman answered, only too glad of a chance to +help his officer out of what, he saw, was a frightful situation. + +"How long ago?" came back the instant query. + +"Five minutes, sor. Ye cud catch him wid a horse." + +"Ah," exclaimed Morrison, and he threw up his hand to his men. +"Lieutenant Harris," he shouted. "Take a squad and ride to camp by the +wood road. Overtake Corporal Dudley or intercept him at headquarters. +Don't fail! Get him and bring him here!" + +Lieutenant Harris's hand went up to his hat in ready salute and he +bellowed out his orders. + +"Jennings! Hewlett! Brown! Hammond! Burt! 'Bout face. Forward!" Almost +before the words were out of his mouth Harris and his men were riding +madly down the road in a chase, which the Lieutenant suspected, meant +something more to his colonel, than merely the recovery of a +safe-conduct for a Confederate officer and a little girl. + +Morrison turned to Trooper O'Connell and jerked his thumb towards the +road. + +"Report at my quarters this evening--at nine," he said curtly. And the +young Irishman, thankful to be well out of the mess, quickly clambered +over the wall and disappeared though not without a soft voiced farewell +from Virgie. + +"Good-by, Mr. Knapsack Man," called the child. "Thank you for the +biscuits." + +Then Cary came forward and gripped the other's hand. + +"Colonel," he said earnestly, with full appreciation of what was passing +through Morrison's mind, "I hope no trouble will come of this. If I had +only known the vindictiveness of this man--" + +He was interrupted by a genially objecting hand and a laugh which +Morrison was somehow able to make lighthearted. + +"Oh, that will be all right. Harris will get him--never fear." + +"And so," he said, addressing Miss Virginia, "that bad man took your +pass?" + +"Yes, sir. He did," Virgie answered, and caught his hand in hers. "He +ran right away with it--mean old thing." + +"Well, then--we'll have to write you out another one. A nice, clean, +white one this time. Come on, little sweetheart. We'll do it together," +and he took out a note book and pencil. + +"I say, Morrison," Cary murmured, glancing apprehensively at the +troopers idling in the road and very plainly interested in what the +small group were doing, "do you really think you'd better--on your own +account?" + +Again Morrison's hand was raised in polite objection. He had taken a +sporting chance when he wrote the pass which had been stolen but because +he had probably lost was no reason why he shouldn't play the game out +bravely to the end. So he only smiled at Virgie, who came and sat beside +him, and began to write the few short sentences of his second +safe-conduct. But while he wrote he was talking in low tones which the +troopers in the road could not hear. + +"There's a line of your pickets about three miles up the road, Cary," +said he. "If I loaned you a horse, do you think Virgie could ride behind +you?" + +"_Me?_" pouted Virgie. "Why, Daddy says that when I was bornded, I came +ridin' in on a stork." + +Morrison burst out laughing and dropped his hand down on the small paw +resting on his knee. + +"Then, by St. George and the Dragon we'll send you home to Jefferson +Davis on a snorting Pegasus!" + +Again Cary spoke to him in warning tones, which at the same time +thanked him unendingly for the kindly thought. + +"You needn't trouble about the mount. Why, man," he said huskily, +"you're in trouble enough, as it is! And if our lines are as close as +you say they are--" + +Once more the Union officer checked him. + +"It isn't any trouble. Only--you'll have to be careful of your approach, +even to your own lines. Those gray devils in the rifle pits up there +have formed the habit of shooting _first_ and asking questions +_afterwards_. There you are," and he tore the leaf from his note book +and handed it up with a faint smile. + +The Southerner took it with a reluctant hand. + +"I--I wish I could thank you--Morrison," he said in tones that shook +with feeling, "but you see I--I--" + +"Then please don't try. Because if you do I'll--I'll have to hold Virgie +as a prisoner of war. + +"Well, young one," he said to the small Miss Cary with a laugh, "did you +really get something to eat?" + +"Yes, sir. That is--we _almost_ did." + +"_Almost?_" he echoed. + +"Yes, sir," came the plaintive answer. "Eve'y time we start to +eat--somethin' _always_ happens!" + +"Well, well, that _is_ hard luck," he said with a gentle squeeze of her +frail body. "But I'll bet you it won't happen this time; not if a whole +regiment tries to stop it." + +"Come on," he suggested as he sprang to his feet and began picking up +dry twigs. "You can start in and munch on those heavenly biscuits while +this terrible Yankee builds the fire." Cary made a move as if to help; +but Morrison checked him. + +"Oh, no, Cary, just you keep on sitting still. This is no work for you. +You're tired out. + +"Here, Virgie, I know you want to get me some water from the spring. +Please pick out the cleanest pieces of water you can and put them +carefully in the coffee pot. All right. There you are. _'Tention!_ +Carr-ee coffee pot! Right wheel! _March!_" + +With a carefree laugh he turned away to light the little heap of twigs +he had placed between two flat stones. "It's mighty considerate of my +boys to leave us all these things. We'll call it the raid of Black Gum +Spring. + +"And here comes the little lady with the coffee pot filled just right. +Now watch me pour in the good old coffee--_real_ coffee, Virgie +dear--not made from aco'ns." He settled the pot on the fire and sat back +with a grin. "Oh, oh! Don't watch it," he cried, in well feigned alarm +as Virgie, unwilling to believe the sight, stooped over to feast her +eyes on the rich brown powder sinking into the black gulf of the pot. +"If you do that it will never, _never_ boil!" + +"All right," the child agreed pathetically, and she sank wearily down +against her father's knee. "I'll just pray for it to hurry up." + +The two men exchanged quiet smiles and Cary murmured something in his +daughter's ear. + +"Oh, no, I won't," she answered, and then looked up at Morrison with a +roguish light in her dark eyes. "He's only afraid I'll pray so terribly +hard that the old coffee pot will boil over an' put out the fire." + +Morrison, chuckling, now began to drag something out of a rear pocket. +Presently, he uncorked it and held it up--a _flask_! + +"Here, Cary," he said, holding out a cup. "Join me, won't you? Of +course, you understand--in case a snake should bite us." + +"Colonel Morrison," responded the Southerner, "you are certainly a man +of ideas." + +He waited for his foe to fill his own cup, then raised his in a toast: + +"I drink to the health, sir, of you and yours. Here's hoping that some +day I may take _you_ prisoner!" + +At the quizzical look of surprise in the other's face Cary's voice +almost broke. + +"I mean, sir, it's the only way I could ever hope to show you how much I +appreciate--" + +He stopped and covered his face with his hands, not a little to his +daughter's alarm. + +"Come, come, old chap," the Northerner said bluffly, tapping him on the +shoulder. "Brace up. It's the fortunes of war, you know. One side or the +other is bound to win. Perhaps--who knows--it may be _your_ turn +to-morrow. Well, sir--here goes. May it soon be over--in the way that's +best and wisest for us all. + +"Now, Virgie," he went on, when the toast had been drunk, "while I wash +these cups suppose you go on another voyage of discovery through the +magic knapsack for some sugar for the coffee." + +He watched her fling herself impetuously on the knapsack. "If you find +any Yankee spoons--put them under arrest. They haven't any pass like +yours." + +Then he turned to Cary: "Have any trouble on the road as you came +along?" + +The other man shook his head. + +"None to speak of. We were stopped several times of course, but each +time your pass let us through without delay--until we met Dudley. And +now I'm worried, Colonel," he said frankly, while his eyes tried to tell +the other all that he feared without putting it in words, "worried on +your account. It's easy to see that the man has a grudge against you--" + +"Yes, I'm afraid he has," was the thoughtful reply. "But really, Cary, +you mustn't try to carry any more burdens than your own, just now. I +know what you mean and what, I daresay, you'd be only too willing to do, +but I can't permit it." + +They were interrupted by the spectacle of Virgie standing before them +with anxiously furrowed brow, a paper bag in one hand and three spoons +clutched in the other. + +"But Colonel Morrison," she was saying in tragic tones, "there isn't a +drop of milk." + +"Milk!" he cried in mock despair. "Well, dash my buttons if I didn't +forget to order a cow." + +"Oh, _I_ know what to do," cried the child. Dropping her supplies and +utensils she ran to the wall and climbed up. + +"Hey, there, _you_" commanded the small general with an imperious +gesture to the assembled troopers. "One of you men ride right over to +camp and bring us back some milk--an' butter." + +At this abrupt demand of so small a rebel on the commissary of the +United States a roar of laughter went up from the troopers, though some +of them had the grace to salute and so relieve the child of +embarrassment. + +"Virgie! Virgie!" called her father, scandalized. + +"It's all right, Cary," Morrison laughed. "She's only starting in at +giving orders a little earlier than most women. + +"Never you mind, Miss Brigadier," he comforted. "We'll have all those +luxuries next time, or when I come to see you in Richmond after the war +is over. Just now we'll do the best we can. Come along." + +Virgie got down from the wall and pattered up to the fire. + +"Is it ready yet?" she asked with the perfect directness of seven years. + +"In a minute now. Ah-hah! There she goes." + +He took the pot from the fire and set it down on a rock where, +presently, he brought a cupful of cold water to pour in. + +"Is that to settle it?" she asked of her father. + +"Yes, child--and I wish all our questions were as easily cleared up. +And now--to the attack." + +"Right-o. Virgie--pass the beautiful, hand painted china and let's fill +up. This one for your daddy--you can put the sugar in. Only don't burn +those precious fingers." + +Virgie carried the steaming cup to her father and put it in his hands +with shining eyes. + +"This is better than our old belt supper, Daddy, isn't it?" she said, +with a flirt of her tangled curls. "Anyway--it _smells_ nicer." + +She was back at the sugar bag at once, digging out spoonfuls for +Morrison's coffee. + +"Thank you, Miss Cary, I am indeed obliged to you. Now do sit down and +_eat_. No, not another word till you've eaten two whole biscuits!" + +For several ecstatic moments the child munched her biscuits. It had been +a long time since she had eaten anything so delicious, although if those +same biscuits had appeared on the Cary table a month ago they would have +probably been scorned. But eager as her appetite was it did not stop the +active workings of her mind and she presently was struck by an idea +which tried to force itself out through a mouthful of biscuit--with the +usual amusing results. + +"_Virginia!_" admonished her father. + +Morrison laughed out like a boy and slapped his knee. + +"Suppose we swallow--and try again." + +Virgie, thus adjured, concentrated her mind on the task--gulped, +blinked, swallowed with pathetically straining eyes, and then smiled +triumphantly. + +"Excuse me, Daddy. I guess I wasn't very polite." + +"Apology accepted. What were you going to say?" + +The child looked up with a sweetly serious look in her eyes that the two +men recognized as the forerunner of true womanly thought for others. + +"I was only goin' to ask the Colonel if he didn't think his men out +there would like some of these _heavingly_ things to eat?" she said +plaintively. "It must be terrible--jus' to look on!" + +"Well, bless your little heart," the Northerner cried. "But don't you +worry about the boys. They'll have theirs when they get back to camp. Go +on and eat, Virgie. Stuff in another biscuit. And, look! By Jupiter. +_Butter!_" + +Evidently Trooper O'Connell during the past twenty-four hours had +foraged or blarneyed most successfully for out of the knapsack which he +had left behind Morrison suddenly produced a small earthenware jam jar +in which was something now indubitably liquid in form but none the less +sweet, yellow, appetizing butter. Pouring a little on a biscuit he held +it out to her, speculating on what she would say. + +The tot took it hungrily and raised it to her lips, her eyes shining and +her face glowing with anticipation. Then she paused and, with a little +cry of vexation over her selfishness, held out the biscuit to her +father. + +"Here, Daddy," she said. "You take this--because you tried to bring me +somethin' good to eat yesterday." + +The father threw a look at Morrison and caught Virgie to him in a swift +embrace. + +"No, dear," he said. "Eat your nice buttered biscuit and thank the good +Lord for it. Your father will get more fun out of seeing you eat that +little bit than he would out of owning a whole cellar of big stone +crocks jam full. Do you know--I think when we get up to Richmond you'll +have to write a letter to the Colonel--a nice long letter, thanking him +for all he's done. Won't you?" + +There was a pause for a moment as the child looked over at Morrison, +revolving the thought in her mind. + +The Union officer had passed into a sudden reverie, the hand holding his +coffee cup hanging listlessly over his knee. He was thinking of another +little girl, and one as dear to him as this man's child was to her +father. He was wondering if the fortunes of war would ever let him see +her face again or hear her voice--or feel her chubby arms around his +neck. She was very, very far away--well cared for, it was true, but he +knew only too well that it would need but one malignant leaden missile +to make her future life as full of hardships as those which the little +tot beside him was passing through to-day. So much, at least, for the +ordinary chances of war--he was beginning to wonder how much had been +added to these perils by the matter of the pass and whether his +superiors would see the situation as it had appeared to his eyes. + +Into this sad reverie Virgie's soft voice entered with a gentleness +which roused but did not startle him. When she spoke, it seemed as if +some subtle thought-current between their minds had put the subject of +his dreams into the child's mind. + +"Do you reckon," the child said, curiously, "that Gertrude is havin' +_her_ supper now?" + +The Union officer looked up with eyes that mutely blessed her. + +"Yes, dear, I was thinking of her--and her mother." + +Again he was silent for a space, and when he spoke, his voice was +dreamy, tender, as he seemed to look with unseeing eyes far into the +Northland where dwelt the people of his heart. + +"Do you know, Cary, this war for us, the men, may be a hell, but what is +it for those we leave at home? The women! Who wait--and watch--and too +often watch in vain. _We_ have the excitement of it--the rush--the +battles--and we think that ours is the harder part when, in reality, we +make our loved ones' lives a deeper, blacker hell than our own. Theirs +to watch and listen with the love hunger in their hearts, month in, +month out and often without a word! Theirs to starve on the crusts of +hope! Waiting--always waiting! Hunting the papers for the thing they +dread to find; a name among the missing. A name among the dead! Good +Heaven! When I think of it sometimes--" Morrison dropped his head +between his clenched fists and groaned. + +"Yes, yes, old fellow, I know," the other man answered, for in truth he +_did_ know, "but I want you to remember that for you the crusts of hope +will some day be the bread of life--and love." + +Slowly the Northerner's face came up out of his hands and he seemed to +take heart again. After all, he had led a charmed life so far--perhaps +the God of Battles had written his name among those who would some day +go back to live the life for which the Almighty made them. God grant +then that he might have for his friend this man who, in the time of his +own greater grief, was unselfish enough to console him. Ah! If God would +only grant that from this day on there would be no more of this hideous +fighting. Morrison's eyes met the other's and he put out his hand. + +Suddenly there came the sound of a shot. Another and another--then a +volley, which almost at once became a continuous rattle of musketry. + +The Northerner sprang to his feet. "Look! there go your pickets." + +Struck dumb by this sudden return to the actualities of life the two men +stood motionless, listening for every sound which might tell them what +it meant. For a little while they had dreamed the dream of peace only to +have it rudely shattered. + +But Virgie had not followed them in their dreams, for she was an +extremely practical young lady. Having seen food, real food, vanish +away before her very eyes several times already she was quite prepared +to see it happen again. + +"There!" she said, in tones in which prophecy and resignation were oddly +mingled. "Didn't I jus' _know_ somethin' was goin' to happen!" + +By this time Morrison had run to the stone wall and sprung to its top. +Out in the road the troopers had mounted without waiting for command and +with one accord had faced towards the firing. + +"Can you see anything?" Cary called. + +"Not yet," said Morrison. "I guess we came too close to your nest--and +the hornets are coming out." + +"Turner!" he commanded, and a trooper's hand went up, "ride up to the +fork of the road. Learn what you can and report." + +As the cavalryman struck his heels into his horse's sides and dashed up +the road Cary put the wishes of both men into words. + +"It's too near sundown for a battle. It will only be a skirmish." + +"Ye-e-e-s, possibly," the Northerner assented, and he looked +thoughtfully at Virgie, "but still--" + +"What is it?" + +"I can't send you forward now--in the face of that fire. And, for that +matter, I can't send you to the rear. In five minutes this road will be +glutted with cavalry and guns." + +"Never mind, Morrison," the Southerner returned. "I couldn't go +now--anyway." + +"Why?" + +Cary opened out his hands in a simple gesture. "Because, in case of +trouble for you at headquarters, I'm _still_ your prisoner." With his +eyes brave and steady on the others he took the newly written pass from +his breast--and tore it in pieces. "When you want me," he said, "you'll +find me--_here_." + +If there had been time for argument Morrison would have hotly protested +against such self-sacrifice, but events were crowding upon them too +fast. From down the road came the sound of furious galloping. Almost at +once Lieutenant Harris, riding hard at the head of a troop of cavalry, +swept round the curve and drew his horse upon his haunches. + +"Colonel Morrison!" he shouted. "You are ordered--" + +"One moment, Lieutenant," interrupted Morrison in tones so even that +Cary marveled at his composure, "_Did you get Corporal Dudley?_" + +Cary's ears ached for the answer. He knew just as well as the questioner +the danger which might now be disclosed or be forever forgotten and his +heart went out to the other in this moment of hideous suspense. + +There was an instant of hesitation and then came the answer. + +"_No, sir!_ We tried hard but couldn't make it." + +Morrison's face did not change but his hands tightened until the nails +dug deep into his palms. He had played--and lost. + +"Go on with your report," he said. + +Harris pulled in his fretting horse and delivered his significant news. + +"The Rebels are advancing in force. I was sent back to you with orders +to join Major Foster at the fork and hold the road at any cost. Two +light field pieces are coming to your support. Our main batteries are +back there--in the woods." + +"Right," said Morrison, "we go at once." Turning back to Virgie he +caught her up in his arms and kissed her. "Good-by, little sweetheart. +Hide under the rocks and keep close." + +"Good-by, Morrison," Gary said, as they struck hands. "I can't wish you +luck--but our hearts are with you as a man." + +"Thanks, old fellow," said the enemy, as he sprang over the wall "It +helps--God knows." + +He caught at his horse's mane and threw himself into the saddle without +touching the stirrup, while his voice roared out his command. + +"Ready, men! Forward!" + +"Good-by," shrilled Virgie in her childish treble. "Good-by, Colonel! +Don't get hurt." + +"Daddy!" she cried, as they crouched down in their hiding place behind +the wall. "Is there going to be a--a _battle_?" + +"Only a little one. But you won't be afraid." + +A rattle of approaching wheels came from down the road, the shock of +steel tires striking viciously against the stones, the cries and oaths +of the drivers urging the horses forward. + +"Look!" cried Cary, springing to his feet in spite of the danger in +which his gray uniform placed him. "Here come the field pieces. In a +minute now the dogs will begin to bark." + +With a roar of wheels and a clash of harness and accouterments the guns +rushed by while the child stared and stared, her big eyes almost +starting out of her face. + +"The dogs!" she said in wonder. "There wasn't a single dog there!" + +"Another kind of dog," her father said with a meaning look. "And their +teeth are _very_ long. Ah! There they go! Over yonder on the hill--in +the edge of the woods. The Yankee dogs are barking. Now listen for the +answer." + +Together they listened, father and daughter, with straining +ears--listened for the defiant reply of those men who, being Americans, +were never beaten until hunger and superior numbers forced them to the +wall. + +"Boom!" A great, ear-filling sound crashed over the hills and rolled, +echoing, through the woods. + +"That's us! That's us!" the man cried out exultantly, while he caught +the child closer in his arms. "Hear our people talking, honey? Hear 'em +talk!" + +But overhead something was coming through the air and the child shrank +down in terror--something that whined and screamed as it sped on its +dreadful way and seemed like a demon out of hell searching for his prey. + +"Lord a' mercy, Daddy!" the child cried out. "What's _that_?" + +He patted her head consolingly. "Nothing at all but a shell. They sound +much worse than they really are. Don't be afraid. Nothing will hurt +you." + +From the forks of the road the sound of volley firing grew stronger and, +as if in response, the road to the Union rear now turned into a stream +of living blue, with cavalry madly galloping and sweating infantry +hurrying forward as fast as their legs could carry them. + +"Look, Virgie, look!" her father cried, holding her head a little way +above the wall. "See those bayonets shining back there across the road. +A whole regiment of infantry. And they're going up against our _men +across an open field!_ By Jiminy, but those Yanks will get a mustard +bath. Ah-hah!" he chortled, as a roar of musketry broke out. "I told you +so! Our boys are after them. Good work! Good work!" + +But again a shell passed over them and again the world was filled with +that awful whining, shrieking sound. + +"Daddy," the child cried, with quivering lips, but still dry eyed. "I +don't _like_ those things. I don't _like_'em." + +"There, there, darling," he comforted as they shrank closer under the +protection of the wall. "Keep down under my arm and they won't bother +you." + +As he spoke a twig with a fresh yellow break in it fell from a tree and +struck his upturned face. He winced at the thought that the bullet +might have flown a few feet lower. And meanwhile the sound of the firing +came steadily closer. + +"By Jove!" he murmured to himself, "it's a bigger rumpus than I +thought." + +This indeed was true. What had at first promised to be only a skirmish +between the outposts of the two entrenched armies, now developed into a +general engagement covering a space of half a mile along the line. A +reconnoitering force of Federal cavalry had ridden too close to the +rifle pits of the Confederates, and, as Morrison himself expressed it, +"the hornets came out and began to sting." + +Major Foster, commanding a larger force of cavalry, rode out in support +of his reconnoitering party, and found himself opposed, not by a +straggling line of Rebel pickets, but by a moving wall of tattered gray, +the units of which advanced on a low-bent run, crouching behind some +bush or stone, to fire, reload and advance again. + +An aide raced back to the Union lines to ask for help in support of +Foster's slender force of cavalry; and thus the order came to Morrison +to join the detachment and hold the enemy until reinforcements could be +formed and pushed to the firing line. + +The delay, however, was well nigh fatal for Morrison and Major Foster, +and from the point where Cary and little Virgie watched, the case of the +Union horsemen seemed an evil one. True, that infantry and guns were +soon advancing to their aid on a "double-quick"; yet all the advantage +seemed to lie with the ragged, sharp-shooting Southerners. + +The crackle of musketry increased; the dust rolled up and intermingled +with the wreathes of drifting smoke, and through it came the vicious +whine of leaden messengers of death. + +Then, borne on the wind, came a sound that he would know till his dying +day--_the rebel yell_. An exultant scream,--a cry of unending hate, +defiance, _victory_! + +He sprang to his feet. Off came the battered old campaign hat and +unmindful that he stood there hidden in the woods and that his voice +could carry only a few yards against the roar of battle, he swung it +over his head: and shouted out his encouragement. + +"Look! We're whipping 'em. Virgie, do you hear? We're getting them on +the run. Come on, boys! Come on!" + +He felt her clutch on his sleeve. With wide eyes grown darker than ever +with excitement, she asked her piteous question. + +"Daddy! _Will they kill the Colonel?_" + +For a moment he could not answer. Then, with a groan he gave back his +answer: "I _hope_ not, darling. I hope not!" + +Down the road a riderless horse was coming, head up and stirrups flying. +As it galloped past Cary scrutinized it closely and was glad he did not +recognize it. In its wake came soldiers, infantry and dismounted +cavalry, firing, retreating, loading and firing again, but always +retreating. + +"Here come the stragglers," he cried. "We're whipping 'em! Close, +darling, _close_. Lie down against the wall." + +He crouched above her, shielding her as best he could with his body. +Then, suddenly, a man in blue leaped on the wall not ten feet away. He +had meant to seize the wall as a breastwork and fight from behind it, +but before he dropped down he would fire one last shot. His gun came up +to his shoulder--he aimed at some unseen foe and fired. But from +somewhere, out of the crash of sound and the rolling powder smoke, a +singing missile came and found its mark. The man in blue bent over +suddenly, wavered, then toppled down inside the wall, his gun ringing on +the stones as he fell. + +"Daddy!" the child whispered, with ashen face, "it's the biscuit man. +It's HARRY!" + +Her father's hand went out instinctively to cover her eyes. "Don't look, +dear! Don't look!" + +The road was choked now. Cavalry and infantry, all in a mad rush for the +rear, were tearing by while the two field pieces which but a moment ago +had gone into action with such a deadly whirl came limping back with +slashed traces and splintered wheels. With fascinated eyes the Rebel +officer watched from behind his wall, while everything, even his child, +was forgotten in the lust for victory. And so he did not hear the faint +voice behind him that cried out in an agony of thirst and pain. + +"Water! Water! Help! Someone--give water!" + +Virgie, with dilated eyes and heaving breast, crouched low as long as +she could and then gave up everything to the pitiful appeal ringing in +her ears. Quick as a flash, she sped away on bare feet over rocks and +sharp, pointed branches of fallen trees to the spring, where she caught +up a cup and filled it to the brim. Another swift rush and she reached +the fallen man in blue and had the cup at his lips, while her arm went +under his head to lift it. + +"Virgie!" her father cried, frantic at the sight. With a great leap he +was at her side, forcing her down to the ground and covering her with +his body. + +The trooper's head sank back and his eyes began to dull. + +"May God bless ye, little one," he murmured. "Heaven--_Mary_--_!_" His +lips gave out one long, shuddering sigh. His body grew slack and his +chin fell. Trooper Harry O'Connell had fought his last fight--had +passed to his final review. + +One look at the boyish face so suddenly gone gray and bloodless and Gary +caught Virgie up in his arms. "Come dear, you can't help him any more," +and with a crouching run they were back once more in the shelter of the +wall. + +And now the shriek of the shells and the whine of the bullets came +shriller than before. All around them the twigs were dropping, while the +acrid powder smoke rolled in through the trees and burnt their eyes and +throats. Again came men in blue retreating and among them an officer on +horseback, wheeling his animal madly around among them and shouting +encouragement as he tried to face them to the front. "Keep at it, men," +Morrison was crying, half mad with rage. "One decent stand and we can +hold them. Give it to them hard. Stand, I tell you. _Stand!_" + +All around him, however, men were falling and those who were left began +to waver. "Steady, men! Don't flinch," came the shout again. "Ah-hah, +you _would_, would you? _Coward!_" + +Morrison's sword held flatwise, thudded down on the back of a man who +had flung away his gun. "Get back in the fight, you dog! Get back!" + +He whipped out his revolver and pointed it till the gun had been +snatched up, then fired all its chambers at the oncoming hordes in gray. + +"One more stand," he yelled. "One more--" + +Beside him the color sergeant gave a moan and bent in the middle like a +hinge. Another slackening of his body and the stricken bearer of the +flag plunged from his saddle, the colors trailing in the dust. + +Morrison spurred his mount toward the fallen man, bending to grasp the +colors from the tight gripped hand; but even as he bent, his horse went +down. He leaped to save himself, then turned once more, snatched at the +flag of his routed regiment and waved it above his head. + +"_Stand, boys, and give it to 'em!_" + +A shout went up--not from the men he sought to rally to his flag, but +from those who would win it at a cost of blood, for his troopers were +running on a backward road, and Morrison fought alone. The "gray devils" +were all around him now, and he backed against the wall, fighting till +his sword was sent spinning from his fist by the blow of a musket butt; +then, grasping the color-pole in both his hands, he parried bayonet +thrusts and saber strokes, panting, breathing in hot, labored gasps, and +cursing his enemies from a hoarse, parched throat. + +A hideous, unequal fight it was, and soon Lieutenant-Colonel Morrison +must fall as his colors fell and be trampled in the dust; yet now +through an eddying drift of smoke came another ragged Southerner, a +grim, gaunt man whose voice was as hoarse as Morrison's, who had grasped +a saber from the blood stained rocks and waved it above his head. + +"Back, boys! Don't kill that man!" + +Among them he plunged till he reached the side of Morrison, then turned +and faced the brothers of his country and his State. With a downward +stroke he arrested a saber thrusts and then struck upward at a rifle's +mouth as it spit its deadly flame. + +"Don't kill him! Do you hear?" he cried, as he beat at the bayonet +points. "I'm Cary! Herbert Cary!--_on the staff of General Lee!_" + +For an instant the attacking Southerners stood aghast at the sight of +this raging man in gray who defended a Yankee officer; and yet he had +made no saber stroke to wound or kill; instead, his weapon had come +between their own and the life of a well-nigh helpless foe. For a moment +more they paused and looked with wondering eyes, and in that moment +their victory was changed to rout. + +A bugle blared. A thundering rush of hoof beats sounded on the road, and +the Union reenforcements swept around the curve. Six abreast they came, +a regiment of strong, straight riders, hungry for battle, hot to +retrieve the losing fortune of the day. The road was too narrow for a +concentrated rush, so they streamed into the fields on either side, +re-formed, and swept like an avalanche of blue upon their prey. The guns +in the woods now thundered forth afresh, their echoes rolling out +across the hills, and the attacking Rebels turned and fled, like leaves +before a storm. + +On one side of the road, Morrison and Cary shrank down beside the wall +to let the Union riders pass; on the other, all that was left of the +Rebel force ran helter-skelter for a screen of protecting trees. But +before the last one disappeared he threw up his gun and fired, +haphazard, in the direction whence he had come. + +As if in reply came the sound of a saber falling from a man's hand and +striking on a stone. Under his very eyes and just as he was putting out +his hand to grip the others Morrison saw Herbert Cary sinking slowly to +the ground. + +And then, through the yellow dust clouds and the powder smoke and all +the horrid reek of war, a child came running with outstretched arms and +piteous voice--a frightened child, weeping for the father who had thrown +himself headlong into peril to save another's life and who, perhaps, had +lost his own. + + + + +CHAPTER IX + + +The headquarters of the Army of the Potomac on the morning of August 4, +1864, were at City Point near where the Appomattox meets the James. Here +the grim, silent man in whose hands lay the destinies of the United +States sent out the telegrams which kept the Federal forces gnawing at +the cage in which Lee had shut himself and meanwhile held to his +strategic position south of Richmond. To his left and west lay +Petersburg still unconquered, but Petersburg could wait, for Early's +gray clad troopers were scourging the Shenandoah and the menace must be +removed. To this end Grant had sent a telegram to Washington three days +before expressing in unmistakable terms what he wished General Sheridan +and his cavalry to accomplish. They were to go over into the Shenandoah +and, putting themselves _south_ of the enemy, follow him to the death. +To which telegram the tall, lank, furrow-faced man in the White House +whose kindly heart was bursting with the strain replied in +characteristic fashion and told him that his purpose was exactly right. +And then, with a gleam of humor, warned him against influences in +Washington which would prevent its carrying out unless he forced it. + +This message had come but a few minutes before and it had been received +with silent satisfaction for Grant knew now that Abraham Lincoln and he +were in perfect accord as to the means for swiftly bringing on the end. +But the plans must be well laid and to that end he must leave City Point +within a few hours and go north. And so he was standing at a window of +his headquarters this morning with his eyes resting unseeingly on the +camp, while his cool, quiet mind steadily forged out his schemes. + +Unlike the headquarters of "play" armies where all is noise and +confusion and bloodied orderlies throw themselves off of plunging horses +and gasp out their reports, the room in which General Grant did his work +was strangely quiet. + +It was a large, square room with high ceiling and wall paper which had +defied all the arts of Europe to render interesting in design. Furniture +was neither plentiful nor comfortable--a slippery, black horse-hair +sofa, a few horse-hair chairs and, at one side of the room, a table and +a desk, littered with papers, maps and files. At the table Grant's +adjutant, Forbes, sat writing. Facing him was the door opening out into +the hallway of the house where two sentries stood on guard. In the +silence which pervaded the room and in the quiet application to the work +in hand there was a perfect reflection of the mind of him who stood +impassive at the window with his back turned, a faint blue cloud of +cigar smoke rising above his head. + +A quick step sounded in the corridor--the step of one who bears a +message. An orderly appeared in the doorway, spoke to the two sentries +and was passed in with a salute to Forbes. + +"For General Grant," he said, holding out a folded note of white paper. +"Personal from Lieutenant Harris, sir." + +At the sound of his name the General turned slowly and accepted the +note which the orderly presented. He took it without haste and yet +without any perceptible loss of time or motion and, as always, without +unnecessary words. Scanning it, he shifted his cigar to one corner of +his mouth where its smoke would not rise into his eyes, thought for an +instant, then nodded shortly. + +"I'll see him. At once." + +Dismissed, the orderly saluted and passed quickly out. The General, with +his chin in his collar and his cigar held between his fingers at nearly +the same level, moved back to the window and stood there silently as +before. He knew what Lieutenant Harris would wish to speak to him about. +A few weeks before a Lieutenant-Colonel of cavalry had been +court-martialed on the charge of allowing the escape of a spy. The court +had found him guilty and its findings had been submitted to the higher +authorities and endorsed by them. A copy of these reports now lay on his +desk. All this his Adjutant, Forbes, knew as well as the General +himself, but if Forbes had thought it worth while to speculate on the +extent of his commander's interest he might have guessed for years +without ever drawing one logical conclusion from all the hints that that +impassive face and figure gave him. + +Again a ringing step in the corridor and this time Lieutenant Harris +came into the room, his hand going up in salute. But his General was +still looking out of the window, his eyes on a dead level. There was a +silence and then--without turning around-- + +"Well, Lieutenant, what is it?" + +"A short conference, General, if you'll grant it. The case of +Lieutenant-Colonel Morrison." It was hard work to talk to one who kept +his back turned and Harris was embarrassed. + +The smoke from the General's cigar still curled lazily upwards. + +"Reprieve?" came the monosyllabic question. + +Harris caught himself together and put all his feelings. + +"No, General. A _pardon_!" + +At once Grant wheeled and stood gazing at him keenly. + +"_Pardon?_" he said, and he advanced with deliberation to the desk where +he stood with his eyes steady on Harris' face. "Lieutenant! Do you want +me to think you are out of your mind?" + +Before Harris could reply Grant stopped him with a gesture and picked up +a batch of papers which lay on the desk. + +"The man has been given every chance. He has been court-martialed--and +found guilty." + +He dropped the papers in the case back on the desk. "And you--his +counsel--having failed to prove him otherwise now come to _me_--for +pardon." + +He snapped his fingers. "Lieutenant, you are wasting time." And he +turned away, pausing for a moment to turn over a sheaf here and there on +his desk and meditate their contents. The incident of Lieutenant-Colonel +Morrison has been disposed of and, in another moment would be forgotten. +It was now or never for Harris and he answered quickly. + +"I hope not, sir. Neither yours nor mine." And then, as the General +looked up with some surprise at this retort. "You have read the +findings of the court?" + +"Yes," was the grim reply. "And approve the sentence. To-morrow he will +be shot." + +"Yes, sir," acknowledged Harris. "Unless _you_ intervene." + +At this curiously insistent plea for clemency the short, stocky bearded +man who, to so few, had the bearing of a great general, faced Lieutenant +Harris and gave him a look which made the young officer's bravery falter +for a long moment. + +"_I?_" said the General, with a searching note in his voice which seemed +to probe coldly and with deadly accuracy among the strenuous emotions in +the young man's mind. "Harris--you are an officer of promise. Don't cut +that promise short." With a flick of his ashes to one side he turned +away. The cigar went back into the corner of his sardonic mouth. + +Harris strode forward an impulsive step and threw out his hands. + +"It is worth the risk. When a man is condemned to die--" + +The General wheeled with more impatience than the Adjutant, Forbes, had +seen him exhibit through many vexatious, worrying months. His voice took +on a rasping note. He tapped the papers on the desk with grim +significance. + +"Lieutenant-Colonel Morrison has failed in his military duty. He +released a Rebel spy--proved himself a traitor to his cause." + +"A traitor, General?" protested the young officer. "Do you call a man a +traitor who fought as Morrison did a week ago? Who stood his ground till +his whole command was shot to pieces! And then stood alone--defending +his colors in the face of hell let loose!" + +The appeal was impassioned, its sincerity and humanity undoubted. Yet it +seemingly only served to make the grim rules of war more unyielding than +ever. + +Choosing his words with more than ordinary care, and speaking them in +firm, even tones, the General made his reply. + +"No act of bravery can atone for a soldier's lapse from duty." He sat +down at his desk and began to write. + +Under ordinary circumstances Lieutenant Harris might have accepted +defeat for there seemed no use in trying to break down that iron will or +touch the heart of this relentless soldier. But this was something more +than an ordinary case and Harris was more than simply Morrison's +counsel--he was his friend. The two had fought together through three +hard campaigns; they had shared food and water and shelter, had slept +together for warmth on sodden fields, had exchanged such confidences as +two officers from the same town in the North but of unequal rank may +exchange under the pressure of war-time emotions. If there was one man +living who knew Morrison's heart and appreciated his motives to the +uttermost it was his lieutenant and the young officer was prepared to +lose his commission, aye, even face prison for insubordination if +continued opposition to the Commander-in-Chief would result in a +re-hearing. And so he caught himself together for the second time and +returned to the charge. + +"I do not offer his courage as a plea for pardon," he said, and turned +to his general with half a smile, "but still I find in Shakespeare--and +in Blackstone--the suggestion of tempering justice with mercy." + +Grant tossed aside his pencil, repeating the last word slowly, bitterly: + +"_Mercy!_" + +He rose from his seat and stood beside his table, speaking with a low +but almost fierce intensity: + +"They call me a war machine! I am! And you--and all the rest--are parts +of it! A lever! A screw! A valve! A wheel! A machine half human--yes! A +thing of muscle and bone and blood--but without a heart! A merciless +_machine_, whose wheels must turn and turn till we grind out this +rebellion to the dust of peace!" + +He paused impressively, and in the hard, cold words which followed, all +hope for Morrison seemed to fade and die. + +"If a wheel once fails to do its work--discard it!--for another and a +better one! _We want no wheels that slip their cogs!_" + +The General ceased and turned to his littered table; but Harris was not +yet beaten. + +"No, General," he answered bravely, "but there happens to be a flaw ... +in your machine's control." The General looked up, frowning sharply; but +Harris still went on: "In a military court we have condemned a man to +die--_and the facts have not been proved!_" + +Amazed more at the young officer's obstinate temerity than his words the +General stared at him. + +"How so?" he asked, with irony. + +Harris opened out his hands with a simple gesture that seemed to leave +his logic to the judgment of any impartial observer. + +"In times of peace, my profession is that of the Law. I know my +ground--and," in rising tones of sincerity, "I challenge you to shake it +in any civil court in Christendom." + +"Strong words, young man," came the stern reply. "For your sake, I hope +they are warranted. What is your point? Get at it!" + +Harris drew a short breath of relief. He had cleverly switched the +appeal from grounds on which he stood no chance whatever to those where +he did not fear any intellect in a fair fight. + +"The evidence," he said calmly, "was purely circumstantial. In the first +place, it is alleged that my client captured a Rebel spy, one Herbert +Cary, who was hiding in the loft of a cabin." + +The General's caustic tones interrupted. "To which fact," he said, +"there were only _ten_ witnesses." + +"Yes, General," was the faintly smiling agreement. "Ten! But not one of +them actually _saw_ the man! They _believe_ he was there, but they +cannot swear to it." + +Grant made a motion as of putting away something of no consequence. +"Immaterial--in view of the other facts. Well--what else?" + +"Next, it is claimed that Morrison released this spy and allowed him to +enter the Union lines--without regard to consequences." + +The General gave a short exclamation of impatience, and struck the +papers on his desk with the flat of his hand. + +"And that is _proved_," he said, sharply. "Proved by several officers +who stopped your spy at points along the road." + +He singled out a soiled piece of paper from the sheaf before him and +held it up, a piece of paper which bore writing on both sides. + +"When taken, _this pass_ was found on his person. Not circumstantial +evidence, but _fact_. Signed on one side by R.E. Lee and, on the other, +by Colonel Morrison." He laughed shortly over the futility of argument +under such circumstances. "Do you presume to contest this, _too_?" + +To his amazement the young officer facing him bowed easily and smiled in +turn. + +"I _do_. Emphatically. _No pass_ was given Herbert Cary either by +Colonel Morrison _or_ General Lee." + +"_What?_" cried the General angrily. + +Harris only pointed. + +"Read it, sir--if you please." He watched till Grant's eyes started to +scan the pass again, and then repeated the words which he knew so well. + +"Pass _Virginia Cary_ and escort through Federal--and Confederate +lines." + +"'Virginia Cary,' General, is a non-combatant and a child. 'Escort' may +mean a single person--or it may mean a whole troop of cavalry." + +To his infinite relief and joy his Commanding General looked up at him +thoughtfully, then slowly rose from his desk and took a turn about the +room, followed by a faint blue trail of cigar smoke. He paused. + +"And what does _Cary_ say?" he asked. + +Again Harris smiled the quiet smile of the lawyer who has been +confronted with such questions before and knows well how to answer them. + +"He, too, is on trial for his life. His evidence, naturally, was not +admitted." + +"Ah! Then what says _Morrison_?" + +"Nothing, sir," was the young lieutenant's calm reply. "The burden of +proof lies with the prosecution--not with the defendant." + +"And this is your contention--your _legal_ flaw in my machine?" the +General asked sharply. + +"It is." + +"Very good, sir--very good. In that case we'll call in these silent +partners and dig into this case until we reach rock bottom!" + +"Forbes," he ordered. "Send for the prisoner, Mr. Morrison--and the +Rebel, Herbert Cary. I want both of them here--at once!" + +In the pause which followed the Adjutant's exit Harris interposed an +objection. + +"Your method, General, is hardly just to the interests of my client." + +Grant turned on him with something mere than impatience. He was growing +angry. + +"Lieutenant Harris! Are you asking me to pardon a guilty man? It's the +truth I want--not legal technicalities. Next you'll be asking me not to +hang this Rebel spy because he has--a baby!" + +He went back to his accustomed place at the window and stood looking out +again, his hands clasped loosely behind his back, the eternal cigar +smoke rising above his head. Then, to the young lieutenant's amazement, +he asked a question in tones of ordinary conversation. + +"Harris," he said. "Who was the man who preferred these charges to start +with?" + +"Corporal Dudley," was the eager answer. + +"And there, General, is another point and a vital one that was not +brought out. In reporting his Colonel, Dudley was actuated not by a +spirit of military duty, but personal revenge." + +"Revenge? Why?" + +"Because Morrison shot and killed Dudley's brother--a Sergeant in his +command." + +The General came back from his window. + +"Again--why?" + +"For insubordination--incendiarism--attempted desertion," came the swift +reply. + +The General's eyebrows raised a fraction of an inch. He seated himself +at his desk and unrolled a map. + +"Any witnesses of the Sergeant's death?" he asked evenly as he proceeded +to study his map. + +"Unfortunately, only one," Harris replied. "An old negro--now in our +camp--answering to the name of William Lewis." + +"Lewis--Lewis," said Grant thoughtfully. He referred for a moment to a +file of papers and then looked up. "Is that the old codger who's been +worrying my entire staff for permission to go through our lines to his +home?" + +"Yes, General," said Harris, with a smile, for Unc' Billy's persistency +and his troubles were known to everyone he met. + +"Good! It's about time we got even him," the General remarked +sardonically. "Have him in! See to it, Forbes." And again he bent over +his map. + +Forbes, passing out again, paused as Harris gestured. + +"You'll find him somewhere near the guard house," the Lieutenant said +with a flicker of a, smile. "The old man has been regularly camping out +there since he learned that his master was inside." + +A minute passed and then, from a short distance away, came the sound of +a squad of soldiers marching. In single file, with the two prisoners in +line, the squad came into the hallway and stopped at the doorway. + +"_Halt! Left face! Order arms! Prisoners file out!_" The two prisoners +stepped forward and entered the room. + +Thanks to expert surgical work since he entered Union lines, Herbert +Cary's wounds had healed quickly while plenty of good food had done the +rest. His eyes may not have been bright with hope but at least they +were clear with health and his straight back and squared shoulders +showed that the man's fighting spirit had not left him even under the +adverse decision of a court-martial. + +Of the two, Morrison seemed the graver and quieter. With his sword taken +from him and his shoulder straps ripped off the man who had been a +Lieutenant-Colonel in the Army of the Potomac only the day before stood +looking at his general without the slightest hope for clemency. Yet, +with all the sad, quiet look of resignation in his eyes, behind them +glowed a wonderful light--the light of self-sacrifice. For he had chosen +to put on the tender glove of humanity and grip hands with the mailed +gauntlet of war, and though he had been crushed yet even in this bitter +hour they could not take from him the knowledge that the Commander in +Chief of all spiritual armies would stand forever on his side. They +could take his sword and shoulder straps but they could not rob him of +that divine consolation. + +And so the two stood with their eyes steady on the General--the +Confederate, hard and defiant--the Union officer with a strange, sad +glow on his face. + +But the General paid them no attention. He was still studying the map +laid out before him on his desk, the cigar in the corner of his mouth +drawing one side of his face into harsh, deep lines. As a matter of +fact, Ulysses Simpson Grant was very far removed from harshness--he was +simply and solely efficiency personified. When nothing was to be said +General Grant said nothing. To do otherwise was waste. + +Presently he looked up and saw that while Forbes had given the two +prisoners chairs directly in front of his desk one of the important +factors in the business in hand had not been produced. + +"Well, Forbes, well? Where is the negro?" He asked crisply. "Bring him +in! Bring him in!" + +"In a moment, General," responded the Adjutant, hastening to the doorway +as the tread of feet sounded again in the hallway. Dismissing the two +privates who had arrived with Uncle Billy between them he led the old +man down to the desk and left him there, bowing and scraping a little +and holding his hat in front of him in both hands. + +"Wan' see _me_, suh?" ventured Uncle Billy, intruding delicately on the +General's calculations. "Here I is!" + +General Grant looked up quickly and ran his eye over the old man. + +"Your name!" + +"Er--William Lewis, seh. Yas, seh." + +"To whom do you belong?" + +Although Uncle Billy's back was not particularly straight this sudden +question introduced a stiffening into it which made it more upright than +it had been in years. + +"I b'longs to Cap'n Hubbert Cary, seh--of de Confed'it Army. Das who I +b'longs to. Yas, seh." + +The General sat back a little in his chair and studied Uncle Billy. He +saw that after all the old negro was simply a natural slave--that he +probably had no other thought in his grayed head than that of faithful +service to his owner. But he would try him and see how far the old man +would go. + +"I understand," he said, "that freedom has been offered you--and you +refused it. Is this true?" + +"Yas, seh." + +"_Why?_" asked the General quietly. + +Uncle Billy stammered. + +"Well--er--well, 'skuse me, Mars' Gen'l, but--but down whar _I_ lives at +de--de white gent'men understands a nigger better'n what you-all does. +Yas, seh." + +General Grant may have smiled internally, but the only symptom of +amusement was the dry note in his voice. + +"I see. But there has been some difference of opinion on the point." + +He paused and then pointed past Uncle Billy directly at Morrison. "Do +you know that man?" + +"Me?" said Uncle Billy. He turned and saw Morrison and instantly his +face lighted up. It made no difference to the old negro that Morrison's +uniform was mutilated--he could only see the familiar features of one +who had treated his dead mistress with perfect respect under trying +circumstances. + +"Aw, yas, seh," he broke out, with a broad grin. "How you does, Cun'l. I +clar to--" + +Uncle Billy stopped. His eyes had gone beyond Morrison to the man +sitting beside him and at the sight of that loved figure the old man +began to tremble. His voice lowered to a whisper and he began to totter +forward. + +"Mars' Cary!" he said, as if he were looking on one risen from the dead. +He came a little nearer, with his hand stretched out as if to touch him +testingly--then suddenly dropped down on his knees before Gary who had +risen from his chair. "Bless Gawd, I done fin' you," he sobbed, his face +buried in his toaster's coat. "I done fin' you at last." + +The General frowned. + +"Forbes," he ordered. "Put a stop to that. Bring him back!" + +But Uncle Billy paid not a bit of attention as the Adjutant sprang up. +All his thought was for his master and his own explanation. + +"Dey wouldn' lemme git thru, seh!" he cried, pleading absolution from +what had seemed an inexcusable breach of trust. "Dey wouldn' gimme no +pass an' I'se des been stuck! Aw, Gawd, Mars' Cary--an' I axed 'em ev'y +day!" + +"There now, Billy--don't," Cary said with a gesture of pity and unending +gratitude. + +Uncle Billy rose slowly to his feet. + +"Yas, seh. Yas, seh," he answered obediently. "'Skuse me, Mars' Gen'l. I +couldn' he'p it, seh. I--I couldn' he'p it. Dey wouldn' eben lemme see +him in de guard house--" + +"That will do," interrupted the General firmly. "Listen to me. When did +you see Mr. Morrison--last?" + +"Him?" said Uncle Billy, looking around at the Union officer. +"'Twas--'twas in de spring, seh. Yas, seh. De time de Yankees bu'nt us +out." + +"How's that?" asked the General, not understanding. + +Lieutenant Harris came forward a step. + +"The act of incendiarism I spoke of, General--on the part of Sergeant +Dudley." + +The General looked up and nodded. + +"I see," he said, and Harris, knowing that due weight would be given the +fact let go a faint sigh of relief and stepped back. + +The cigar came out of the General's mouth. "Tell me about it," he said +to Uncle Billy. + +The old negro drew himself up and shifted his weight onto his other +foot. + +"Well, seh, 'twas dis way. One mornin' de blue-bellies--'skuse me, seh, +de cav'lry gent'men. One mornin' de cav'lry gent'men come ridin' up, +lookin' fer horses an' fodder an'--an' Mars' Cary--an' anything else +what was layin' roun'. Yas, seh. An' des' befo' dis here gent'man come," +with a bow at Morrison, "a low-lived white man took'n grab me by de +th'oat--an' choke me, seh. Den he 'sult Miss Hallie--" + +"Miss Hallie?" queried the General. + +"My mis'tiss, seh," answered Uncle Billy. "My mis'tiss, seh," he said +again and his hand went up to his eyes. + +"The wife of Captain Cary," Harris said in a low tone and the General +nodded. + +"Den--bless Gawd--de Cun'l come! He pick him down offn de front +po'ch--and put him under 'rest. Yas, seh. An' Miss Hallie, she sho' was +hoppin', Gen'l. She--" + +"Never mind that," sighed the man whose creed was Patience. "Go on with +the story." + +"Yas, seh. Thank'e, seh. 'Twas des lek I tell you, seh. An' arfter while +orders come to de cav'lry gent'men fer to light out fr'm dar in a hurry. +An' whilst dey was gettin' ready, seh, an' me an' de Cun'l was waitin' +roun' fer to proteck de property, de fire bus' right out de winders! + +"Dat's right, Mars' Gen'l," Uncle Billy hurried to state, as the +General's eyebrows went up in surprise. "Dat's right. Den de front do' +flewed open, an' here come dat po' white trash rapscallion--wid de pine +knot in his han'. Yas, _seh_. He--" + +"One moment!" snapped the General. "Was he running _towards_ his troop +or _away_ from it?" + +"_Way_ fr'm it, seh," replied the old negro, with unmistakable +truthfulness, "t'odes de ice house whar Miss Hallie an' de chillun was +at. Yas, seh." + +"And Mr. Morrison tried to stop him?" + +"Ha!" cried Uncle Billy, with a chuckle. "He mo'n tried, seh. He _done_ +it!" + +The General nodded, his lips tight shut. + +"So I understand. But what did he do--or say?" + +At this question Uncle Billy suddenly developed dramatic abilities that +his master had never dreamed of. + +"He say--" and Uncle Billy's arm shot out as he pointed something deadly +at an invisible foe--"he say, '_Halt! Dudley! Halt! Bang!_'" + +Uncle Billy's hat dropped down on the floor with a whack. "Dat's all, +seh. Dat po' white trash--he drop lek a stuck pig, seh!" + +The General's eyes were on his desk and for a moment there was a pause. +Finally, he lifted his head and looked at Morrison, who rose in salute. + +"Mr. Morrison. You did well. Your Sergeant failed in his military +duty--and deserved the punishment. I commend your action." + +Harris, listening with all his might, thought the words more favorable +than the tone in which they were spoken and his face brightened. Then he +heard the General speaking more sternly. + +"The Federal powers of administrative justice now occupy precisely the +same position with regard to your own default." + +Harris' face darkened. After the first just encomium--what was this that +was coming? + +Relentless and inflexible the voice went on. + +"The rules of war, as applied to a non-commissioned officer, must also +govern his superiors. As Sergeant Dudley deserved his bullet you merit +_yours_." + +His eyes dropped from Morrison's face and he looked up at Harris. + +"A bad witness for your client, Lieutenant," he said grimly, as he +nodded his head towards Uncle Billy. "You ought to study law! Take him +away," and he picked up a fresh cigar from a box in front of him and +tossed the old one out of the window. + +Uncle Billy, with a puzzled look on his face, slowly yielded to the +touch of the two soldiers who stepped into the room at a gesture from +Forbes. He seemed to realize that his testimony had not been of much +avail though just why was indeed a mystery. One thing, however, was +quite clear. + +"'Skuse me, Mars' Gen'l. I--I don't need dat ar pass home now. An' I +much obliged to you fer _not_ givin' it to me. Yas, seh. Thank'e, seh." +At the doorway he bowed with careful politeness to each occupant of the +fatal room. "Good mornin', Mars' Cary. Good mornin', gent'men. _Good_ +mornin'." + +With the disappearance of bewildered Uncle Billy the General swung +around on the officer who no longer wore his shoulder straps. + +"Mr. Morrison," he said, in his distinct, even tones. "Your friend and +counsel, Lieutenant Harris, has applied to me for your pardon!" + +"_Pardon?_" cried Morrison, springing to his feet with an exclamation of +amazement. + +"Exactly," was the crisp response. "It comes from him--not from you. But +still, as an interested party, have you anything to say in your own +behalf?" + +The Union officer stared at his general for a moment without replying. +Yes, there were many things that might be said--all of them honest +arguments in his own behalf, all of them weighted with Right and +Humanity but none of them worth putting into words in the face of this +deadly machine of war, this grim, austere, unyielding tribunal. He +wavered for a moment on his feet as a terrible wave of despair surged +over him, then made a faint gesture of negation. + +"I have nothing to say, sir." + +"Captain Cary!" ordered the General and, as Cary rose unsteadily to his +feet, "No. Keep your seat, sir; you are wounded. Is it true--as I learn +from this report--that during a skirmish a week ago you helped defend +the Union colors against your own people?" + +Cary shot up from his chair with a fiery rush of anger. + +"_I? No, sir!_ I defended the _man_--not the soldier, or his flag!" + +"Ah!" ejaculated the General, leaning back in his chair and blowing out +a cloud of smoke in surprise. "You draw a rather fine distinction, +Captain. You saved the colors--_but you failed to save the man!_ You had +better have let him die--as an honorable soldier." + +There was silence for a moment, and the General asked: "Is it true that +you were actuated by a debt of gratitude?" + +"Yes," answered the Southerner, throwing back his head. "And a greater +debt than I can ever hope to pay. His mercy to--my little girl." + +Without relaxing for a moment his grip on the points of the case, no +matter what human elements might be drawn into it, the General instantly +rose and shot out an accusing forefinger at the Confederate. + +"And the pass he gave--_to you!_" + +Their eyes clashed but the Southerner lowered his own not a whit and +backed them, furthermore, with honest anger. + +"_To her!_" he answered, and drove the reply home with clenched jaws. + +The General relaxed--and smiled. + +"Another fine distinction," he said, resuming his seat. He knocked the +ashes from his cigar and presently looked up with another one of those +terribly vital questions which came so simply from his lips. "Did you +ever penetrate the Federal lines by means of a uniform--of blue?" + +The Confederate drew back as he felt the assault on his rights as a +soldier. + +"As to that, General Grant, there is--" + +"Answer me!" came the sharp command. "'Yes' or 'No'!" + +"One moment, General," interrupted Harris, with a lawyer's quick +objection. "If--" + +"No interference, Harris," came the curt order. "Answer me, Captain. +'Yes' or 'No'!" + +The Southerner's face flushed and he threw back his head with the superb +defiance that General Grant knew so well--which was his one eternal +stumbling block, and due to continue for another full year of blood. + +"Under the rulings of court-martial law," the Confederate Captain said +in ringing tones, "I deny even _your_ right to the question." + +To the surprise of everyone the General merely nodded. + +"That is all, sir. Thank you," he said, and Cary, with a look of +surprise, slowly resumed his seat. + +"Mr. Morrison!" + +The Union officer rose and saluted. + +"As a military servant of the United States Government you were ordered +to pursue this man and take him--dead or alive. In this you failed." + +Morrison inclined his head gravely but shot a look of respectful +objection at his superior. + +"In part--I failed." + +Instantly the accusing forefinger was leveled at him across the desk and +the point made with terrible directness. + +"_And knowing he was a spy!_" + +Morrison shook his head. + +"Not to my personal knowledge, sir. I hunted him many times; but never +while he wore a Federal uniform." + +"And when you captured him?" + +In reply, Morrison simply indicated Cary's tattered coat of gray. + +"Ah! Then you _did_ capture him?" + +"Yes," came the quiet answer. + +"And he _was_ the escort mentioned in your pass." + +"Yes," Morrison answered slowly. + +"H'm," said the General. He rose and turned to Harris. + +"I am afraid, my dear Harris, that in spite of fine spun distinctions +and your legal technicalities, the findings of our court were not far +wrong." + +Dropping his handful of papers on the desk he caught Morrison's eye and +rasped out his analysis of the case. + +"Captain Cary practically admits his guilt! _You_ were aware of it! And +yet you send him through the very center of our lines! A _pass_! Carte +blanche to learn the disposition of our forces--our weakness and our +strength--and to make his report in Richmond. He was an enemy--with a +price on his head! And you trusted him! _A spy!_" + +As the General had been speaking the first few words of his contemptuous +summing up Morrison saw where they would lead and his manhood instantly +leaped up in reply. + +"I trusted, not the spy, but _Herbert Cary_," he said with honest +courage. Then, as the General turned his back on him with a contemptuous +snap of his fingers-- + +"General! I have offered no defense. If the justice of court-martial law +prescribes a firing squad--I find no fault. I failed. I pay." + +With a gesture which indicated Gary the disgraced officer of the Army of +the Potomac shot out his one and only defense of his action--at an +unyielding back. + +"I took this man--hunted--wounded--fighting to reach the side of a +hungry child. I captured him and, by the rules of war, I was about to +have him shot. Then he asked me to get his little girl safely to +Richmond, and not to let her know--about him." + +"And she believed in _me_. _Trusted_ me--even as I trusted Herbert Cary +to pierce the very center of your lines--as a father--not a spy!" + +From behind the unyielding back came a statement of fact, firm and +pitiless. + +"And it cost you your sword--your life." + +Morrison centered his eyes on the back of the General's head and sent +his answer home with all the power of his voice and spirit. + +"_And I have no regret_" he said. "In the duty of a military servant--I +have failed. But my prisoner still lives! I could _not_ accept the +confidence of his child--the trust of innocence--a baby's kiss--with the +blood of her father on my hands!" He dropped his hands and half turned +away. + +The General turned, a little at a time--first his head and then his +shoulders. + +"A very pretty sentiment," he remarked dryly. "But you seem to forget +that we are not making love but _war_." + +With a supreme burst of anger at his helplessness before the brute +forces which would presently send him forth to the firing squad, +Morrison wheeled on his commanding general and flared forth with his +last reply. + +"Yes, _war_! And the hellish laws that govern it. But there is another +law--_Humanity_! Through a trooper in my command the home of an enemy +was turned to ashes--his loved ones flung out to starve. When a helpless +tot had lost its mother and a father would protect it, then _war_ +demands that I smash a baby's one last hope--in the name of the Stars +and Stripes. And then--to march back home, to a happy, triumphant +North--and meet _my_ baby--with the memory of a butcher in my heart--_By +Heaven, sir! I'd rather hang!_" + +For a moment General and Colonel regarded each other fixedly and then +the General turned away to pace the floor. Presently he came to his +decision and walked slowly back to his desk. + +"Lieutenant Harris," he said in tones whose significance could not be +misunderstood, "I was right. You have wasted your time--and mine." + +Then he sighed wearily and made a last gesture to Forbes. + +"_The guard_" he said. + +It was all over. + +And then, to the ears of the two prisoners who stood looking at one +another with sad eyes, came a sound which made both men start and look +again with apprehension written on their faces--the shrill scream of a +child who is being kept from something she has set her heart upon. +Another moment and there was a rush of tiny feet in the hall, whereupon +the two sentries crossed their rifles across the doorway. But what +might have proved a serious obstruction for a man was only an absurdity +to a child's quick wit and Virgie, with a little duck of her sunny head, +dodged quickly under the muskets and charged, flushed and panting, on +the General's desk. + +"You shan't shoot Colonel Morrison," cried this astonishing new comer in +tones of shrill command as she stamped her little foot: "I won't let +you! You shan't! You shan't!" + +A moment of displeased surprise on the part of the General. Then-- + +"Take the child out of here," he ordered. + +"I won't _go_!" answered Virgie, tossing her curls back and standing her +ground with' angry eyes. + +"Orderly!" called the General. + +With a whirl Virgie dashed away from the desk, eluded the orderly and +threw herself into her father's arms. + +"Oh, Daddy, Daddy! You won't let him shoot the Colonel. Daddy, you +won't! You won't!" She burst into a passionate flood of tears. + +Cary lifted his hand to the General in a plea for a moment's respite +from force. + +"General--please. She'll go." + +He turned to the sobbing child and shook her gently. "Virgie! Virgie! +Listen, honey! _Remember General Lee!_" The bowed head rose from her +father's shoulder; the little shoulders stiffened, and eye to eye she +looked into the face of Cary as his pleading voice went on: "_He_ +wouldn't want you to cry like this. He said--'She's a brave little +soldier to stay there all alone. Dixie and I are _proud_ of her.'" + +The Littlest Rebel's chin went up, and she bravely choked back her sobs. +If this was what her General wanted, this her General would have, though +childhood's sobs are hard to check when a little heart is aching for the +pain of those she loves. + +"Go now, darling," her father pleaded. "Go." + +She kissed him, and turned in silent, slow obedience, casting a scowl at +the grim and silent General Grant, then moved toward the guarded door. + +"Wait!" said a quiet voice. + +"Harris! They say that fools and children speak the truth." He paused +and then said gently: "Come here, little girl. Come here and talk to +me." + +Somewhat in fear now that the kind voice robbed her of her anger the +little pale faced child choked down her sobs and came slowly forward to +the desk. But, as she stood there, her courage returned and, marvel of +marvels, her tiny hand went up in imitation of a salute. + +Grant dropped his chin in his hand so that their heads were nearly on a +level across his desk and looked at her with gentle kindness in his +eyes. + +"The Littlest Rebel, eh?" he said in low tones. "How old are you?" + +"S-s-s-even. Goin' on eight," responded Virgie, gulping down a sob and +nervously fingering her tattered dress. + +"Ah, yes," he nodded. "And do you know the uniform of a Union +officer--when you see it?" + +Virgie's small mouth dropped open at the absurdity of the question and +she almost laughed. + +"A Yankee?" she queried with scorn. "Well, I reckon I _ought_ to--by +_this_ time." + +"Very good," the brown bearded man nodded, and gently blew smoke at the +ceiling. "Now, tell me. When you lived at home--and afterwards in your +cabin--did your father come to see you often?" + +Virgie's sunny head nodded in emphatic asseveration. "Yes, sir. Often." + +"_How_ often?" asked the bearded man. + +Virgie's fingers twisted themselves deep in her dress. + +"I--I don't know, sir. But heaps of times." + +"Good again," and the questioner actually smiled. "When your father +came, did he ever wear clothes that--that were not his own?" + +Virgie turned a side-long look on her father but, as he could not help, +her puzzled eyes went back to the General. + +"Well--well, lots of our men don't have hardly _any_ clo's," she said +pathetically. + +Another smile broke the sternness of the General's face. + +"That isn't what I mean," he explained gently. "Did he ever wear a coat +of blue--a _Yankee_ uniform?" + +"_General_!" broke in Harris. + +"Lieutenant!" Grant frowned. He turned back to Virgie and coaxed her a +little. + +"Well? Tell me!" + +With one bare big toe twisted under her foot and fingers interlocked in +agony the child turned a look of pure anguish on her silent, grave faced +father. This was torture--and she could not escape. + +"Oh, Daddy, Daddy!" she burst forth with a wail of tragedy in her voice. +"_What must I tell him_?" + +The father's lips, which had been closed against the pain that racked +him, softened with the perfect trust which went into his gentle command. + +"The _truth_, Virgie. Whatever the General asks." + +The General's observant eyes rested on the proud Southerner for an +instant, noted that his face was quite without anxiety, then went back +to the little child. + +"Well, did he?" he asked. + +"Y-y-y-es, sir," answered Virgie with a gulp. + +The General nodded and his face grew grave again. + +"I wonder if you even know what it means. A _spy_!" + +"Yes, sir," said the Littlest Rebel, and dropped her eyes. + +"Hm. And do you remember how many times he came that way?" + +"Yes, sir," came the instant answer, and she threw up her head. +"_Once_." + +"_Once?_" echoed the General, surprised. "Are you sure?" + +"Yes, sir," she answered. She drew herself up proudly, forgetting the +poor, tattered dress, and her clear eyes rested fearlessly on two others +that read through them down into the pure whiteness of her soul. + +"_Think!_" said the quiet voice again, while the perspiration started +out on the forehead of more than one listener. "And remember what your +father said just now. When was it?" + +Again the fearless eyes of the child, the Littlest Rebel of them all, +rose to the gaze of the man whose iron heel was crushing them into the +ground and she made her answer--as crystal clear and truthful as if she +stood before the Throne on the last great day. + +"When--when Daddy came through the woods an'--an' put my mamma in the +ground." + +There was a silence. No one moved. Outside in the trees and bushes the +song the summer insects were singing suddenly burst upon, their ears and +the myriad noises of the camp, hitherto unnoticed, became a veritable +clamor, so complete was the stillness in the room. Everyone except, +perhaps, the child herself realized the vital importance of her answer +and now that it had been given the crisis had passed. The Littlest Rebel +had put an end to questioning. An audible sigh went up from everyone +except the man behind the desk. + +This one turned his head slowly towards the Confederate prisoner. + +"Captain Cary, is this true?" + +"Yes, General," came the straightforward answer. "I went to your nearest +post with a flag of truce and asked permission to go to my dead wife. I +was refused. I went _without_ permission." + +General Grant rose to his feet. Centering the other's eyes with his own +he spoke to him as one officer speaks to another when he expects the +truth and nothing but the truth. + +"And you give me your word, as a soldier and a gentleman, that +once--once _only_--you wore a Federal uniform and that because of the +burial of your wife?" + +"I do," answered Herbert Cary, a rebel to the last. "And that was the +only cause in heaven or hell that could have _induced_ me to wear it!" + +For a moment the Commander of the Army of the Potomac surveyed the still +defiant prisoner, then turned his back and walked to the window where he +tossed away a much chewed cigar, meantime thinking out his last +analysis. + +Here was a man who had been hunted tirelessly month after month as a +rebel spy. It was true that he was a spy and true that he had worn a +uniform of blue. Yet the fact had been established--by the spotless +honesty of a little child--that he had worn the uniform only so that he +might reach his home and bury his dead. And--went on the cool, quiet +mind--since the man was _not_ a spy how could a Union officer be +executed for assisting a _spy_ to escape? + +Coming back to his desk again the General picked out another smoke, felt +of it thoughtfully, sniffed at it, then raised his quiet eyes. + +"Lieutenant-Colonel Morrison," he said in clear, incisive tones, "_go +back to your command!_" + +Five words. Five short, plain words, yet they made all the difference +between a firing squad and a chance at life again. There was a +silence--then a gasp from Morrison's dry throat. At the sound of his +title--at the sound of that blessed order which, by right of supreme +power, instantly restored him to his rank, the Union officer leaped to +his feet with a cry of joy. But it was not even for those around him in +that little room to know the wonderful vista of happiness which opened +up again before the eyes which only a moment ago had been doomed to +close in the sleep of a disgraceful death. + +The General's hand went up in a gesture which checked his gratitude. + +"The _next_ time you are forced to decide between military duty and +humanity--think twice!" + +He turned to his desk and took up a small piece of paper, crumpled and +torn. + +"Captain Cary," he said, "I sincerely regret that I cannot honor the +pass as given you by Colonel Morrison," and he turned the paper over, +"but I do honor the pass of your General--R.E. Lee." + +He folded the paper and held it out to Cary who came forward as if in a +dream. Then the General turned his back again and began to rummage on +his desk. The incident was closed. + +But there was a rush of bare, childish feet sand before he could escape +Virgie's brown little arms were round him and her dimpled chin was +pressed against his waist. + +The General made no effort to release himself but looked down on her +with a softer light in his face than any of his men had seen there in +many months. + +"And as for you, young lady, the next time you pervert my officers and +upset the discipline of the Federal Army--well, I don't know _what_ I'll +do with you." + +He looked down into her face and read there a wistful feminine appeal +for outward and visible reconciliation. + +"Oh, well," he said with mock resignation, "I suppose I've got to do +it," and he stooped and kissed her. Then he took up his campaign hat and +walked towards the door. + +Behind him the child in her tattered dress and bare brown legs stood +still and threw out her arms to him in a last soft-voiced good-by. + +"Thank you, Gen'ral," called the Littlest Rebel, with the light of +heaven in her eyes. "Thank you for Daddy and Colonel Morrison and _me_. +You're another mighty good damn Yankee!" + +And then, with a cry of surpassing joy and love, she rushed back to +where the two men waited for her on their knees. + + + + +CHAPTER X + + +In the shade of a fringe of trees that edged the river bank a troop of +cavalry was drawn up in one long, thin line. Knee to knee, the silent, +blue-coated riders sat, waiting, waiting--not for a charge upon the +enemy, or orders for a foray through an already harried land. They +waited for a leader--a man who had led them through the heat and cold, +through peaceful valleys and the bloody ruck of battle; a man whom they +loved and trusted, fearing him only when they shirked a duty or +disobeyed the iron laws of war. + +This man had been taken from them, himself a servant who had disobeyed +these laws, his sword dishonored, his shoulder straps ripped off before +their eyes. And now the troopers waited--and for what? An order had come +which put them on review, a long thin line of horsemen waiting on the +river bank, while the sun beat down on the parched red fields, and the +waters of the muddy James lazed by as they murmured their sad, low song. + +The troopers were silent--waiting. A horse stamped idly in the dust, and +a saber rattled against a booted leg. A whisper ran down the line. The +eyes of the men turned slowly at the sight of a single rider who +advanced from the distant Union camp. He did not take the dusty road +which swept in a wide, half-circle to where the waiting troopers sat in +line, but jumped a low worm-fence and came straight across the fields. + +An officer he was, erect in his saddle, chin up and shoulders squared. +On his shoulders his straps had been replaced, and his saber rattled +against his thigh to the rise and fall of his horse's stride. + +Straight on he came till he checked his mount before the center of the +waiting line, and the troopers knew that Lieutenant-Colonel Morrison had +once more come into his own. + +Their sabers rasped from out the scabbards and rose in a joyous, swift +salute, while Morrison's once dishonored sword acknowledged it. + +"_'Tention_ ..._company!_" + +The long line stiffened and waited for their officer to speak; yet the +voice was not the voice of an officer in command, but that of a comrade +and a friend. + +"Thank you, boys! It's good to be back again." He swallowed something in +his throat and struggled manfully to speak in even tones. "I must ask +you to be quiet--and not to--" + +He stopped. Again his troop had disobeyed him--disobeyed him to a man. A +shout went up, deep, joyous and uncontrolled, its echoes pulsing out +across the hot, red fields till it reached the distant camp; and Grant +looked up from a war map's crisscross lines, grunted, and lit a fresh +cigar. + +And Lieutenant-Colonel Morrison sat his horse before his cheering line +of men, silent, happy, while two tears rolled, unheeded, down his +cheek--a soldier and a man! + +His tenderness to a little child had torn him from his saddle and doomed +him to disgrace and death; and then, one line from her baby lips had +mounted him again and set him before his troopers on parade. + +"_It was when ... Daddy came through the woods ... and put my mamma ... +in the ground_." + +Two lives she had held--in her little hands--and had saved them both +with a dozen words of simple, unfaltering truth. + + * * * * * + +On the dusty pike which led to Virginia's capital another rider plodded +through the heat and haze. His coat, once gray, now hung in mud-stained +tatters about his form, but beneath his battered campaign hat his thin, +pale features were smoothed by a smile of happiness. + +Behind his saddle, one hand gripped tightly in a rent in the soiled gray +coat, sat still another Rebel--the smallest of them all--her tiny legs +stretched out almost straight on the horse's wide, fat back. + +"Daddy--how far is it to Richmon' now?" + +The rider turned his head and pointed north. + +"It's close now, honey. See that line of hills? That's Richmond. A mile +or two and we'll be at home." + +Again they plodded on, past fields of shriveled corn whose stalks stood +silently in parched and wilted lines--lines that were like the ranks of +the doomed Confederacy--its stalks erect, yet sapped of the juice of +life. Where orchards once had flourished their rotted branches now hid +mouths of rifle pits, and low, red clay entrenchments stretched across +the fields. + +"Daddy," broke out a piping voice, "don't you think we'd better make +this Yankee horse get up a little? 'Cause--'cause somethin' _else_ might +happen before we get there." + +"It's all right, Virgie," her father answered, with a pat on her small, +brown knee. "These lines are ours, and I reckon we are safe at last." + +They were. Two Rebels on a Yankee horse soon made their triumphant entry +into Richmond. They passed through Rockets, by the half-deserted wharves +on the river bank where a crippled gunboat lay, then clattered over the +cobble stones up Main Street till they reached the Square. On the State +House the Stars and Bars still floated; but the travelers did not +pause. Northward they turned, then westward again, till they stopped at +last before a silent, stately mansion, the headquarters of their +General--General Lee. + +Before the open door two sentries stood, but as Cary and his charge +dismounted an orderly came down the steps and out of the iron gate. A +word or two from Cary and the orderly disappeared into the house, +returning soon with word that the visitors would be received--at once. + +Up the stone steps went Virgie, holding tightly to her father's hand, +for now, as she neared her General, her little heart was pounding, and +her breath came eagerly and fast. + +On the threshold of a dim and shaded room they paused and looked. He sat +there, at a table strewn with war maps and reports--a tall gray man in a +coat of gray--the soldier and the gentleman. + +As father and child came in he rose to meet them, looking at the two +with eyes that seemed to hold the sadness and the tenderness of all the +world. + +He knew their story; in fact, he had bent his every effort to the +saving of Cary's life. He had sent a courier to the camp of General +Grant below the city, asking a stay of sentence till the facts in the +case were cleared; and only a half hour before his courier had returned +with news of the prisoner's release. + +And now, as he advanced and gave a courtly welcome to his trusted scout, +the hand of the Littlest Rebel once more went up in salute to a superior +officer. + +"Gen'ral," she said, as she stole a glance at her father's smiling face, +"I've brought him back--with--with the pass you gave me, sir." + +And the General stooped--six feet of him--till his lips were on a level +with Virgie's lips; then folded her closely into his great gray arms. + + + + +THE END + + + + +PEACE + + + Hushed is the rolling drum. The bugle's note + Breathes but an echo of its martial blast; + The proud old flags, in mourning silence, float + Above the heroes of a buried past. + Frail ivy vines 'round rusting cannon creep; + The tattered pennants droop against the wall; + The war-worn warriors are sunk in sleep, + Beyond a summons of the trumpet's call. + + Do ye still dream, ye voiceless, slumbering ones, + Of glories gained through struggles fierce and long, + Lulled by the muffled boom of ghostly guns + That weave the music of a battle-song? + In fitful flight do misty visions reel, + While restless chargers toss their bridle-reins? + When down the lines gleam points of polished steel, + And phantom columns flood the sun-lit plains? + + A breathless hush! A shout that mounts on high + Till every hoary hill from sleep awakes! + Swift as the unleashed lightning cleaves the sky, + The tumbling, tempest-rush of battle breaks! + The smoke-wreathed cannon launch their hell-winged shells! + The rattling crash of musketry's sharp sound + Sinks in the deafening din of hoarse, wild yells + And squadrons charging o'er the trampled ground! + + Down, down they rush! The cursing riders reel + 'Neath tearing shot and savage bayonet-thrust; + A plunging charger stamps with iron heel + His dying master in the battle's dust. + The shrill-tongued notes of victory awake! + The black guns thunder back the shout amain! + In crimson-crested waves the columns break, + Like shattered foam, across the shell-swept plain. + + A still form lies upon the death-crowned hill, + With sightless eyes, gray lips that may not speak. + His dead hand holds his shot-torn banner still-- + Its proud folds pressed against his bloodstained cheek. + + O slumbering heroes, cease to dream of war! + Let hatreds die behind the tread of years. + Forget the past, like some long-vanished scar + Whose smart is healed in drops of falling tears. + Keep, keep your glory; but forget the strife! + Roll up your battle-flags so stained and torn! + Teach, teach our hearts, that still dream on in life, + To let the dead past sleep with those we mourn! + + From pitying Heaven a pitying angel came. + Smiling, she bade the tongues of conflict cease. + Her wide wings fanned away the smoke and flame, + Hushed the red battle's roar. God called her Peace. + From land and sea she swept mad passion's glow; + Yet left a laurel for the hero's fame. + She whispered hope to hearts in grief bowed low, + And taught our lips, in love, to shape her name. + + She sheathed the dripping sword; her soft hands pres't + Grim foes apart, who scowled in anger deep. + She laid two grand old standards down to rest, + And on her breast rocked weary War to sleep. + Peace spreads her pinions wide from South to North; + Dead enmity within the grave is laid. + The church towers ring their holy anthems forth, + To hush the thunders of the cannonade. + + EDWARD PEPLE. + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Littlest Rebel, by Edward Peple + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE LITTLEST REBEL *** + +***** This file should be named 15414.txt or 15414.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/1/5/4/1/15414/ + +Produced by Suzanne Lybarger, Josephine Paolucci and the +PG Online Distributed Proofreading Team. + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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