My Lady of the South/Chapter 3
CHAPTER III
A MILITARY SECRET
MY interest in the situation thus oddly disclosed, awakened very largely, I must admit, by the extremely attractive personality of Miss Jean, and the deep, pathetic appeal in her soft voice, left me momentarily forgetful of my own unpleasant condition and requirements. Both parties to the dialogue had disappeared before I realized any personal necessity for action. By that time it was too late, as I durst not follow the retreating negro out into the open sunlight; nor did I feel, judging from the bitterness with which both he and the girl had referred to the Yankees, that this particular colored brother would prove very much inclined to assist one wearing my uniform. What, then, could be done? I reclined against a packing-case, with brain rested by sleep, reviewing the situation, and endeavoring to plan out some safe method of procedure. That I could in any way aid the young woman out of her present difficulty would have been a preposterous thought; interested I was, yet I had sufficient trouble on hand of my own. My wounds by this time gave me very little concern, and my mind was sufficiently clear and active. Except for some accident, escape ought not to prove so very difficult, although it was true I should be compelled to travel through the night. largely by instinct, knowing almost nothing regarding roads, direction, or where Confederate pickets might be encountered. Still ordinary precaution ought to yield me passage, and the river itself would be a sufficient guide. If I only possessed some semblance of a Confederate uniform, the adventure would become much more simple, for in the confusion which must have followed the late engagement, there would be many scattered soldiers of all arms, wandering about. seeking their lost commands.
However, the first important and vital consideration was food, but that, as well as all else, must wait the coming of darkness. The sun had already disappeared behind the grove of trees in the west, and very soon, beneath the gathering gray of twilight, I ventured to creep forth from my covert and peer cautiously out through the partially opened door. There was a fire burning in the kitchen of the big plantation house, a heavily built negress bustling about busily within, her robust shadow clearly revealed by the reflection of the flames. This was probably Diana, and her aflection for the Yankees was not apt to differ very widely from those of the others.
I must have watched her for fully ten minutes. unable to decide what I had better do, and becoming hungrier every second. The night shadows constantly deepened, and no alarming sound reached me from any direction. Finally Diana came forth on the back steps. holding a dish of something smoking hot in her hands. and began calling shrilly for Joe. There was no response. Muttering continually to herself, the negress passed across to the second cabin and, disappearing for a moment, came forth again empty-handed, and returned to her labors. Evidently Joe's supper had been carried to him, but the important question in my mind just then was, where was Joe? If he had been there he would certainly have answered her call. If not there, then this was my one opportunity. I was far too desperate to hesitate long, and, in the thickening shadows, stole swiftly forward to the cabin which the negress had visited.
The door was latched, but had no lock; there was no sign of occupancy within, and a moment later I came hurriedly forth with what had been intended for Joe's supper, and bore it safely back, still hot and savory, to the shelter of the shed. It was a rasher of bacon and corn bread, ample in amount, admirably cooked, and I certainly enjoyed it to the very last crumb. At the close I hid the dish carefully and, now recklessly comfortable, felt amply prepared to face the adventures of the night.
There was no sound of horses' hoofs stamping in the front yard, nor could I perceive any sign of a pacing sentinel before the house. The guard of the night previous, whatever might be the cause, had very evidently been removed. I hardly know now why I first ventured in that direction, yet I skirted the low garden fence, where the night shadows were most dense, until I found myself crouching close against the latticed veranda. I stopped then suddenly enough, perceiving the figures of three men seated just beyond, evidently enjoying a quiet smoke after their evening meal. I might not have noticed their presence at all, but for the red glow on their cigars, as no one of them spoke for several moments. Indeed, they remained silent and motionless for so long that I became nervous under the strain, half inclined to believe their dim outlines some illusion of the night. I had even drawn back cautiously for a foot or two, intending to make off down the road, when a peculiar deep voice gave utterance to a question, which as instantly stopped me with eagerly beating heart.
"Your news is not exactly clear to me, Chaplain. I understand you to say the plan is for McDermott's Division to take to the Minersville road at midnight, the others to follow along parallel lines hourly until daybreak?"
"Those are certainly Johnston's orders, Colonel Denslow. I distinctly heard them from his own lips, and was also present when his aides were sent out to the various division commanders."
"But nothing whatever has reached me, and we should naturally be third in line to follow McDermott, from our present position."
"Beyond doubt the orders to move are already at your headquarters. An orderly may be tearing down the road even now to recall you to camp. Your regiment is stationed to the left, just beyond the creek, is it not?"
"Yes," and the speaker, a tall, slender, yet broad-shouldered man, rose impatiently to his feet and gazed off in the direction indicated. "The Tenth Georgia Cavalry, Coulter's Brigade. I had no expectation of so hurried a movement. The Yankees are safely across the river entrenching, and all reports reaching us looked like a week's reorganization, and then a direct attack on their position. What is Johnston up to?"
"A flank movement in force, before they can complete their entrenchments. He believes our army in fighting mood, encouraged by victory, and in far better condition than that of the enemy. He proposes to strike suddenly on their right flank, and crumple them up. He will leave all his camp-fires burning, both to-night and to-morrow night, so as to deceive the Federal scouts, fling his troops swiftly across the river before dawn Wednesday, and make the attack at daybreak. He expects to be in their camp before they are aware he has changed position. The success of the movement depends entirely on the promptness of the division commanders, and the condition of the roads. Our cavalry scouts report the plan perfectly feasible."
Colonel Denslow paced nervously back and forth across the broad veranda, the red glow of his cigar lighting up his face and revealing a closely trimmed gray beard.
"This sudden arrangement leaves me in rather a bad predicament," he confessed at last, pausing suddenly. "You know, of course, what you are here for to-night, Mordaunt, although I have not explained all the details; it is to marry my only daughter, Jean, to Lieutenant Calvert Dunn. The present condition of the country, and the danger involved in leaving a young girl here alone and unprotected, has hurried our arrangements, and prevented any formality. But Dunn has been detailed on Johnston's staff, and the Lord only knows where he may be now, if all you say is true. According to our plans he ought to have been here an hour ago, but no doubt he is riding with orders, cursing his luck with every step of his horse, and utterly unable to send us any word to account for the delay. And what, under these circumstances, can I or my son do? Any minute an orderly may come dashing down the west road. That will mean we must depart at once and leave Jean Denslow here alone, absolutely alone, with only an old negro and his wife on the place. Besides, if Johnston succeeds in his plan, and routs the Yankees by striking them on the right flank, this plantation is likely to be in the direct line of their retreat. Great God, man! do you comprehend all that will mean to the girl? Here alone, defenceless, in the track of a beaten army! By Heaven, I would risk my commission rather than desert her to such a fate."
There was a hush, during which I could clearly distinguish the heavy breathing of the three men. Then the softer voice of the Chaplain asked,
"But what particular difference at this time would her marriage to Dunn make?"
"He intended to take her immediately, as his wife, across the mountains to Fairview. It is not very far away, yet so situated as to be out of the track of both armies, in an isolated valley among the hills. His father and sister are there. They would have ridden the distance to-night, and by to-morrow morning she would be in perfect safety."
"But why not have your son ride with her to this haven of refuge? He is here by permission of his superior officer, no doubt, and, if he started before any orders of recall reached him, no harm could result. By hard riding he might even be back to take his command in time for the proposed attack; and surely Lieutenant Dunn's people would receive and protect your daughter, even if the marriage had not already taken place."
The younger man, seemingly little more than a stripling, was on his feet now also, flinging his cigar into the grass.
"I could do it, father," he exclaimed eagerly. "Jean rides as well as any man, and I could be back in Minersville in forty-eight hours. Shall I go?"
"If necessary, yes, George, but we will wait here until the last possible moment in the hope that Dunn may appear. My heart is set on the consummation of this marriage. Chaplain; it has been the cherished plan of our families ever since the birth of Calvert and Jean, not only because it will unite us all more closely, who have been neighbors more than a hundred years, but because our plantations touch each other, and will form one magnificent property after the war. Jean, I regret to say, has been the one obstacle in the way heretofore—she is somewhat headstrong and filled with girlish notions—but she has at last consented to do as we wish, and I am actually afraid to permit her any opportunity for reconsideration. She is a strange girl, and I never know what her mood may be. Once the ceremony is over I shall feel safe, but not before. George, you had better see that the horses are saddled and ready; we will wait for Dunn till the last possible moment. If the orderly comes first, my boy, you are to ride away with your sister before you hear his orders. Have your horses tied there in the fence corner and Jean dressed for the journey."
I slowly drew back from my position as George disappeared around the opposite side of the house. I was a soldier, and had become possessed of an important military secret, which in every sense of my duty compelled me to bear to Rosecrans if possible. The slightest delay might prove disastrous; yet how was I to accomplish the work in time to be of value? I was well within the Confederate lines, on foot and a fugitive, my ragged uniform sure to betray me to any challenging sentinel. I comprehended something now of the lay of the land, the situation of the two armies, and the direction of the contemplated movement. If I only possessed a horse and a Confederate uniform, I might discover a passage and arrive in time with my message of warning to prevent a grave disaster. Those horses tied to the fence corner! George was there, and probably the negro Joe as well, and they were so close to the house the slightest sound of a struggle would be heard instantly. That would mean four against one, the four armed. The orderly! Ay, there was a possible chance he would come riding down that road from the west alone, unsuspecting danger. And he would surely come, if what the Chaplain said was true. Any moment now we might hear the hoof-beats of his horse echoing through the darkness. It was a black, cloudy night, intensely still, and I would need to get some distance away before any attack on the speeding messenger would be safe. Yet, could I once succeed in waylaying him alone, I felt little (ear as to the results of the encounter. I was young, strong, long inured to fighting, and besides would possess all the advantage of surprise. I reached my decision as a soldier, with no other consideration in mind than the plain duty which this emergency brought. The training and discipline of years all combined to urge me forward in forgetfulness of self.
I crawled back along the fence shadow, grasping, as I passed, a loosened picket for a weapon, and pausing long enough behind the shed to fashion it so as to fit my hand. Then I walked boldly down the road to the westward. The gloom of the night was so dense I had to feel the ruts with my feet, yet I had travelled that way before through the darkness, and remembered some of the peculiarities of the path. Not far beyond the corner which I judged marked the limits of the Denslow plantation, the road dipped sharply over a rocky bank, and descended into the narrow valley of the creek. This appeared to me a spot well fitted for an ambuscade, and I came to a halt, leaning against a stunted tree, listening anxiously. The time had already become most precious. The remaining hours of the night might be ample for my purpose, if I only knew the surrounding country better, and could thus find my course directly to the Federal camp. But the chances were I should have to ride many a useless mile seeking to get free from the enemy's lines before reaching our pickets. Every moment of darkness I could gain would add immeasurably to my chances of success. It seemed as if night had never before been so still; not even the slightest sound of life reached me; no rustle of leaves, and barely the faintest tinkle of distant water. Overhead not so much as a single star was visible, and, as I glanced uneasily behind, no gleam of light shone forth from any window of the great house. I was so thoroughly alone the silence strained my nerves and aroused my imagination. Mine was not by any means a pleasant position, now that I had leisure to reflect upon it—I was upon the very edge of the battlefield, well within the Confederate lines; where their sentries were posted, their pickets placed, I could not even guess, only I might rest assured no open road would be neglected. Yet, if any were near, the orderly certainly would be challenged as he rode toward me, and any such sound of warning must reach me from a long distance amid the stillness.
I must have distinguished the approach of that horse's hoofs fully a mile away,—first the faint ring of steel on an exposed stone, and then, a little later, the dull thud of a steady canter. The fellow rode recklessly enough through such gloom, rode as if he were no stranger to the path, yet surely he would be compelled to rein up as he came to cross the water, and with this in mind, I half slid, half crept down to the very edge of the stream, crouching beneath the dense shade of an out-cropping rock, grasping my club firmly, but with heart pounding from excitement. I must act quickly, mercilessly, or there would certainly be firing, the spread of alarm. Not only my own life, but perhaps the fate of an army, depended upon that struggle in the dark.