I was conscious of nothing more until Ned's voice sounded in my ears. I had ordered him to waken me at ten o'clock, no matter how soundly I was sleeping or how much I might expostulate with him at the time. I guess the poor fellow did have a rather hard time awakening me. Being on a civilized bed seemed to have obliterated the feeling of caution which had kept me on thequi vivesince the beginning of my trip, and his voice in my ears at first roused me only to a semi-consciousness and faint impression of my surroundings, so accustomed was I to Ned's lingering awakenings. Not until his "Mars, you done said I wuz ter get you up, acaus' dis yer wa'" finally penetrated my dull ears did he rouse me effectually to present circumstances.
While thinking over my arrangements as I was dressing, I determined on taking Ned with me. It was the one additional item needed to perfect the plan I had originated, and I wondered that I had not thought of it before.
Ned belonged to our family, but during one of our long visits at S—— he had married a girl on a neighboring place and on our return home had been left behind. A high price had been offered for the girl, considerable more than she was worth, but her master would not part with her, so Ned had staid on at S—— from year to year. I doubt if he would have been willing to remain had we not been there so often, for he was deeply and honestly attached to our family.
He was a particularly shrewd and intelligent old negro, and I well knew that I could trust him to any extent. He would die rather than betray me or any secret information I might find necessary to entrust to him. His intelligence, quickness of wit and caution wouldlikely enable him to get out of any ordinary danger or emergency that presented itself. To have him along would somewhat lessen my chances of escaping observation on the way, but he would add much to my disguise when among the Confederates.
Few, if any, outside the two families knew but what he belonged to the S—— plantation. He had made several trips with my aunt and cousin during the past two years and had been with them at the Springs. I knew that Captain DeLacy would recognize him again and that it would seem quite proper to him, or any person whom we should meet, that he had accompanied his young mistress.
I did justice to the dinner which Ned, with great pride in his exhibition of culinary skill, had ready for me when I went down. I then told him where I was going and for what. He was horror struck at first and went off into lamentations, bemoaning these troublous times and prophesying that I would never get thereand back alive. But he gradually became used to the idea and was soon begging me to take him along. As I had already decided to do so, I was glad to have him get around to the proposition himself, and readily gave my consent.
I gave him a minute account of all that had occurred since I left the Capital. I thought wise to do this in order to make him familiar with what he would be likely to meet with after we started, and I explained fully to him what I wanted to do, how I wanted to do it, and how I might have to do it, going into full details. I was much pleased at the correct grasp he seemed to get of the matter and felt I could dismiss all apprehension on his score.
We were to go on horseback. If possible we were to keep together, but if necessary we were to separate at any time without any delay and neither was to pay any attention whatever to the safety of the other. I explained to him that, except when I was personating Salome,any display of concern on his part about me would only increase my danger, and that in case we unexpectedly fell in with any troops on the road, he must act as if I were a total stranger whom he had just met, unless he first heard me make a direct statement to the contrary.
Ned knew, as well as I, that he run but slight risks of being interfered with. At that time the Confederates paid but little attention to the coming and going of the negroes. They were allowed to move from place to place, and run in and out the lines without question or detention, and their queries made from curiosity excited no distrust. Ned also was aware that he would have no trouble in getting a pass on any slight pretext if he should need one.
I gave him a number of places along the way, where we were to meet after any enforced separation if we could, but if by so doing either of us incurred the slightest riskor delay, we were each to make our way separately to a point which I named and which I felt confident was beyond the invading troops. I was to wait there until as late as nine o'clock that night for Ned, but in case he reached there first he was to stay until I came, unless I did not get there for three days, thus allowing for my possible capture, detention and escape. I also told him on what points I wanted him to get information, by observation or in any other way possible.
From my entertainer of the night before, I had learned enough about the movements of Luce's army to enable me to block out my plans with a considerable degree of confidence. If I did not know exactly where the particular division I wanted to strike was, I knew where it was not, and that was a good deal.
Events sometimes follow each other with startling rapidity, but if no unusual hurry had occurred I felt quite sure my destinationwould be between two points, and not more than twenty miles back from the river. More explicit information as to their precise location must be obtained on the way, also exact knowledge as to Captain DeLacy's whereabouts.
All the preparation Ned made was to hide his few valuables and securely close the house. This done, he was ready to follow me to the ends of the earth if need be.
It was barely twelve o'clock when we started on our way. Ned rode the horse he had provided in anticipation of coming to me. The clothes had been done up into a compact roll, with the cloak outside, in order to look as much like a rolled-up blanket as possible, and I carried them like a huge rag baby on the saddle in front of me. I did not dare either trust them to Ned or fasten them to my saddle. I might have to part with either, or both negro and horse on any sudden emergency, but I was determined to hold onto and make use of my disguise unless death or capture prevented me.
For obvious reasons we avoided all well-traveled roads and made our way through fields, along lanes, and as much as possible in the shelter of the timber. Our route was through a well-settled country until we neared the river. We crossed it by a ford that was little known and seldom used, but at that time, I, like the illustrious Susan, did not care for a crowd.
It was nearly six o'clock when we finally reached the point where I thought I could safely commence my retrograde movement. As soon as I would turn to the right, the division of Luce's army I wanted to reach would lay directly between the place I would be then and the Potomac. During the last of our ride I had, by a bold move or two, managed to get very definite knowledge of the disposition of the Rebel troops in the vicinity, and by a lucky accident, during an enforced separation, Ned had discovered almost to a certainty that Captain DeLacy was where I had thought him. We had also in the middle of the afternoon each secured a fresh horse, and by far greater good fortune than I had dared hope for, they were fine,un-jaded animals. That we took them without leave or license troubled us not a bit.
Looking back now, it seems strange that we were able to make our way as rapidly as we did through that section, filled as it was with troops, without being taken prisoner, scientifically bushwhacked, or picked off by a sharpshooter.
A number of times we did barely escape encounters which would have cost us dear. About the middle of the afternoon we had come near running into a body of the Rebel troops. We were on a hill not far from a road running directly northwest, when through an opening in the trees there became visible a cloud of dust, which meant either sheep or Rebels. Taking into consideration time, place and circumstances, I knew the chances were that it meant Rebels. Dismounting I ordered Ned to take the horses and himself into concealment in an adjacent ravine, and I made my way to a large tree I had noticed forsome time. It had been used by one side or the other as a signal station, and I thought it possible that it commanded a good view of the road along which the dust was advancing. It did, and I soon felt I was up a tree mentally, as well as physically.
The extent of the knowledge I gained was that a move of some kind was on foot, which I did not understand. I was near enough to have thrown a stone down on the moving column, and I could recognize General Middlesworth riding with his staff. Why he was angling away from the main part of Luce's army and toward the Potomac puzzled me, and at a time when I did not care to solve any more enigmas than absolutely necessary. What General Middlesworth's move meant occupied my thoughts off and on all afternoon, as none of the intelligence I managed to gather could be made to explain it, and I determined to find out all about it when in the Rebel camp if possible.
Before turning back in the direction of the Potomac I gave our horses a short rest. They had made remarkable good time and though comparatively fresh, they would, after we got beyond the Rebel lines again, have to be pushed to the full extent of their endurance.
Besides, I did not care to start back too soon, for I wanted it to be dark when we would reach the vicinity of T——. I knew the moon would not rise that night until a little after eight, and between dusk and that time I had planned to get beyond T——, procure a vehicle of some kind and assume my disguise. That done, I was ready to encounter the enemy at any time, although I aimed to run against them later and further on. Ned made an excursion into a neighboring field and brought back some feed for the horses. As soon as they finished their meal we started.
Ned soon suggested that we might find a conveyance that would answer our purpose atGoodhue's, a place on our left a little ways off. We made our way there, taking a short cut and a rough road through a lane, which approached the place from the rear. The house, which faced a road beyond, looked deserted, but we did not go near enough to be certain.
The stables stood off by themselves and we were well enough satisfied not to find anyone around them and did not investigate further. The carriage and horses were gone, but we found a good set of harness and an old fashioned light buggy, which suited our purpose admirably and were all we needed. We had left our horses in the woods across the lane. I went on ahead to reconnoiter. Ned followed, pulling the buggy.
By the time I was arrayed in my disguise Ned had the horses harnessed to the buggy and my clothes and the saddles and bridles stowed compactly away under the buggy seat. It was an extra piece of luck finding a vehicle so near, for I could not assume my disguiseuntil one had been procured, but now, instead of going around T——, I could pass directly through the village, which saved considerable time.
I had on starting from S—— forbade Ned to address me except as Miss Salome, for I was afraid if he did not have some practice he would in any sudden fright forget and let slip the "Mars," which would be sure to rouse suspicion. I impressed on him that he must, until we were through with the rather unpleasant affair before us, act as if I were in reality his young mistress, whom he was trying to get safely to her home, and protect to the best of his ability in a dangerous and unsettled country.
It was a decided change in our mode of progression for us to be speeding along over good roads in a comfortable buggy and not actually shunning observation, as I had been obliged to do until then. But while it was a rest, it was the kind of a rest one experienceswhen awaiting a surgical operation, which is to commence as soon as the surgeon comes, the exact moment of his arrival having been left mercilessly indefinite.
"Hi, Miss Salome, look dar," whispered Ned suddenly.
We had been driving for some time at full speed when Ned's low tones roused me from an imaginary conversation with the Captain.
"Where?" I asked.
"Over dar," he returned, pointing toward his left, around the curve we were just making.
A short distance ahead, in an open space between the road and the heavy timber beyond, I saw the light of camp fires and a few moving figures showing dark against the glow, while a dark mass at one side looked like horses and wagons.
Telling Ned to drive over toward them and ask the way to General Dare's headquarters,as soon as we came abreast of the nearest groups, I scanned the surroundings, anxiously trying to determine what we had run into. I had not expected to meet any Confederates for two or three miles yet. But I knew it could not be any of our own troops, for we were too near the Rebels for that. As we approached closer I saw several officers in gray grouped around a fire and about a dozen men cooking supper at other fires a little apart and nearer us. It looked like a topographical camp or something of that sort.
One of the men, who seemed to be doing a sort of picket duty, and broiling a bit of bacon on the end of his ramrod at the same time, started up as soon as he saw us driving up and demanded what we wanted.
Ned told him we were trying to get to General Dare's headquarters and asked where they were, but before he had time to reply one of the officers advanced toward us, and Ned repeated his question to him. Beforeanswering the officer asked us a number of questions as to where we were going and where we were from, eyeing us keenly all the time, then drew off a little ways to confer with one of the other officers. They were near enough for me to catch most of their conversation.
"It's all right, I believe," said the one who had been talking to us, "or they would want to go the other way."
"Only a feint most probably," replied the last comer and older of the two. "They may be spies and, as soon as they are out of sight, whirl off in another direction. There really does not seem to be anything very suspicious about them I must say," he added; "still it might be wise to detain them here until morning."
"I think they are just what they say they are," returned the first officer.
Just as I was wondering if it would not be best to make a run and leave them to decideat their leisure whether or not we were spies, one of the men passing, called out:
"Hello, Ned," and stopped.
Ned gave something between a grin and a gasp in return. Then, stooping over as if to untangle the reins, he whispered barely loud enough for me to hear: "It's Mars Furbish. He lived ober dar at E——, and knowed Miss Salome."
I caught the clue the quick-witted old negro had given me, and leaning forward, addressed a polite "Good evening, Mr. Furbish," to the man I had never seen before. He pulled off his cap in return.
"I am very anxious to get on without delay," I added. "Will you kindly tell those gentlemen who I am? I think you can assure them I am not a spy."
His action had been noticed by the officers, and as I spoke, they called him over to them.
"Do you know that lady!" I heard them ask.
"Yes, and the nigger too. It's Miss Salome Poillon, and she lives at S—— plantation, across the river," was the answer.
"Then she is a resident here, and there is no danger of their being spies?" put in the cautious one.
"Lord, no! Why, she's the biggest Rebel 'round. So's all the family, an' she's got a Rebel lover," replied my champion emphatically, adding the last fact as if it were a clincher.
That settled it, and the two officers then came over to the carriage and told me I was at liberty to go on, and regretted that they had been obliged to stop me at all. I thanked them, and asked if I would have much difficulty in getting through.
"I am afraid so," replied the one who had first met me.
"This is your most direct route, is it not?" asked the older officer, on whom the rest of the conversation devolved.
"It is much the nearest way," I replied.
"It leads directly on, near where a considerable body of our troops are, yet I think it will be safer for you to keep it than to try side roads, where you would be constantly stopped. I will give you a note to the general in command, and a pass, which will aid you until you reach him. He will likely give you an escort for some distance," he added, writing as he spoke.
When he handed me the papers, I asked him about the positions of the Yankees, and in answering he told me also something new about how Luce's army was located, which was one of the clues that I wanted to learn.
I had no idea of using the papers unless I should fail in all efforts to find Captain DeLacy. I told Ned not to refer to them in any way or to our encounter, while he should be separated from me, and impressed on him that he was not to get out of the buggy if he could help it, or leave the horses one moment unless dragged away by force. Iregretted that we had run into the camp, for it took valuable time, and it did not make me feel any better about it to know that it had happened through my own carelessness. If I had been watching out, as I ought to have been, I would have noticed the fires in time to have avoided them by making a detour, and I believed that I could have gotten later the valuable bit of information the talkative officer had given me.
The encounter had one good result, however. It got us over our stage fright, as it were, and rather raised us up to the grand climax.
We had driven nearly three miles farther before we ran into the Rebel camp again. When we finally found ourselves making our way under guard to General Dare's headquarters, we were far more composed than we could possibly have been had we not already had some experience.
When stopped, I had insisted on being allowed to proceed, but as I expected and desired, the simple privilege of following my own way was denied me. My statements regarding my identity were received with incredulity. I insisted on the truth of my story, and I demanded that I be taken toheadquarters at once. After some parley, my request was acceded to and a couple of soldiers took their places at the horses' heads and slowly led them forward, while a guard walked at the side of the buggy until we reached a cluster of tents pitched somewhat apart, in front of which stood four or five officers conversing.
The officer who had brought us in advanced to the group, and I could hear him reporting the circumstances of our arrest. A handsome subaltern came forward to assist me from the buggy, and I was soon answering the curtly-put inquiries of the middle aged officer to whom I had been conducted. I repeated my story. He questioned and cross-questioned me severely, but I was too entirely familiar with my ground to be caught tripping. I felt a good deal as if I were an actor in a play, and while I must say that I did not particularly admire the setting, I began to have an intense interest in rendering my part well and having all go off smoothly.
Ned was seated in the buggy within hearing distance and I saw he had assumed, or was really feeling, about the right amount of anxiety, and that no one seemed to be paying any attention whatever to him.
I did not recognize the officer interrogating me, but I heard him addressed by one of the other officers as Colonel Sofield. When after telling him my story, he utterly refused to credit it. I asked to see the General in command. Col. Sofield replied that General Senhouse had gone over to confer with General Leonard and might not be back until morning, not for several hours certainly, and followed the explanation with an intimation that both myself and my servant would be well off under guard until his return.
I was somewhat nonplussed when the officer said General Senhouse. I had looked on General Dare only as a guide to Captain DeLacy, and had no interest whatever beyond that in him. At the same time I was a triflesurprised that I had not been taken before him, and that reference had not been made to him instead of to General Senhouse. I began to wonder if it were possible that I had not reached Dare's headquarters, but I did not dare ask directly or betray more knowledge of army details than a girl would be likely to know. After pondering a moment, I said:
"I ought perhaps to have stopped at A——, as I was advised to do, but I was so very anxious to get on, that I could not make up my mind to delay there. Will you tell me what regiment this is? I have friends and relatives with General Luce and there may be some one here who can identify me."
An orderly was presenting a paper to Col. Sofield as I finished speaking, and another officer, who had come up but a short time previous and was standing near, in company with the others, answered:
"This is General Dare's division, but General Senhouse is in command at present. Overon the left there is the —— Regiment, —— Brigade; others are further on. If you will give the names of your friends, and they are here, they can be sent for."
"Captain DeLacy is with General Dare. If I could see him, he would assure you that I am just who I represent myself. He is a very intimate friend of the family," I said, turning again to my first interlocuter.
"Impossible," he replied, "Captain DeLacy has just started to inspect a position several miles from here. There is no telling when he will be back."
"Beg pardon, Colonel, but Captain DeLacy has not got off yet. He passed us on the way over here, and I saw him go in Colonel Lounsbery's tent a few minutes ago," spoke up another officer. "There he comes now," he added, as a tall figure came out of a tent near by.
Affairs progressed rapidly in the next few minutes. In less time than I could write it,Captain DeLacy had been called over to identify me; had done it, even to the satisfaction of the obdurate Colonel, and beard the story of my detention, and my anxious request that I might go on at once.
Captain DeLacy asked and received permission to take me into a neighboring tent, where I could wait, freed from the gaze of those who had gathered around to see what was going on, until he could procure the passes necessary to insure my safe conduct through their lines. Colonel Sofield, whose good manners had increased in proportion to the strengthening of his convictions that I was not a spy, told him to take me into General Dare's tent, as it was the nearest one unoccupied, then to return to him for passes.
A moment later I was alone with the only man of them all who could penetrate my disguise. His first words assured me that he had not heard from Salome lately enough to imperil my statements. And his hurried whispersof love and devotion, together with his grave concern at my having undertaken a journey through that section at so dangerous a time, proved that he accepted me in perfect good faith.
Even at that desperate moment, at the touch of the Captain's lips I was filled with an unholy glee.
Fortunately, he had little time to play the lover. Love and war are an ill-matched couple, and except that both set at naught all interfering laws, they have nothing in common. The latter never relaxes the grasp of a master and exacts that all who serve him shall fulfill their duty to the utmost, without delay or flinching, although by so doing all pleasures, affections, ties of kindred and life itself are yielded up.
My expressed anxiety for his safety, and pretended impression that he was on some dangerous raid, led Captain DeLacy to assure me that he was with Luce, and to tell me what forcesLuce had with him, but no more about his future movements than I had already gathered, which amounted to but little beyond a clue to the meaning of General Middleworth's movement, which I had witnessed that afternoon. I questioned as closely as I dared, but elicited nothing further. My shrewdest efforts were a failure. I saw that he either had not been informed of the object of the campaign, or felt bound not to reveal it even to one whom he held as dear as he did Salome.
While conversing with Captain DeLacy, I had become as familiar with the interior of the tent as I could by the light of one inferior candle and the use of my eyes. There seemed nothing there to invite investigation.
Even after Captain DeLacy had reluctantly left me, a closer inspection revealed nothing more promising. I sat on a camp stool, in a corner; near was a pile of blankets; a rough camp chair stood between me and the bed; a bayonet stuck in the ground did duty for a candlestick, and on an empty wooden box near me lay a paper-covered book.
I had just had time to run a hasty glance through the book, when the fly was raised and an officer entered. As was only natural, he started when he saw me, then lifted his hatwith a half-spoken apology, tossed a newspaper carelessly on the bed, threw his overcoat over the chair and went out again.
I recognized him instantly as General Dare. His actions and looks struck me as those of a man who felt at odds with the world and who was nursing a grievance, but I was too deeply concerned about my own affairs to be more than casually impressed with what I learned afterwards was the case.
It is a strange fact that in times of most intense suffering, deadly peril and deepest thought, the eye will be attracted by the most trivial objects. While I anxiously pondered my next move, my eye mechanically followed in and out the fantastically curved line made by the shadows cast by the pile of blankets, then by the edge of the coat cape as it trailed along the floor. I had followed it almost to the end when my gaze was arrested by a spot of color differing from the rest. With a start, I realized that I was looking ata flat, long book. I could not tell then and I cannot tell now whether it fell from the overcoat or was lying there when I entered, but I do not see how it could have been there at first and escaped my observation.
I determined at once to see the contents of that book. There was not one instant to be lost. I well knew that even then some one might be standing at the entrance and that the Captain would return at any moment. But examine that book I must, even at the risk of surprise, detection and death. It was the most critical moment I had yet encountered. I had to think and act together.
Throwing myself at full length on the grassy floor, with my head screened from the first glance of any one entering, intending to feign a swoon if any one did come, I extended my arm above my head, in the shelter of the chair, and had the book in my impatient fingers.
Opening it hastily, I scanned it in the dim light which came over my shoulder from theflickering candle. I was confronted by a series of blank pages. General Dare's name was on the fly leaf. Only the first three pages were written on, and they contained nothing except detached items of interest to him only. Evidently, the book had been newly purchased, for the dates ran but a few days back.
Bitterly disappointed, I ran over the pages again, and a folded paper slipped into view. Even to this day I can distinctly feel the wild bound of exultation my heart gave when I knew that I held in my hands a copy of Special Order No. 000, issued by the Rebel Commander in Chief only four days before, and regulating the movements of all the divisions of his army for several days to come.
At the sight of that paper every drop of blood in my body seemed to rush to my heart, only to leave it again with a wild speed that turned me faint and dizzy. The letters danced before my eyes, but even in that one hasty glance I took in enough to know that I needseek no further information. I had succeeded even beyond my hopes and expectations. If I could get safely back with that paper, and whatever else I had learned, I felt check to the Rebels must be insured.
Hastily concealing the paper, I pushed the book under the bed, and had barely regained my place when Captain DeLacy re-entered with the passes. There was no time for further private conversation between us, which I regarded as a piece of good luck.
Captain DeLacy told me, while he hastily assorted the papers in his hand, that he was obliged to proceed without delay on the important duty for which he was preparing when Colonel Sofield had called him to me; that as the first part of our way lay the same as his, he could act as my escort until his road turned off from the one I was to follow. From where he had to leave me, to H—— was only ten miles, and he exacted a promise that I would remain there with friends until morning.
I could not but be touched at his anxiety about me, impatient as I was at the delay which it caused.
We started almost immediately. Captain DeLacy rode at the side of the buggy and the squad of men with him a short distance in advance. The road was clear, and we made excellent time.
At last the moment of separation came. His real farewell had already been said, so before following his men down the dark path, into which they had turned, the Captain paused only for some cautions to Ned and a quickly spoken "good bye" to me, which held as much as was ever put in that simple word.
I realized fully what the parting was to him. He had accepted me as Salome, without doubt or question, and to leave me with no other protector than Ned tried him sorely.
I leaned out of the buggy and looked back after him, with a feeling of pain that surprised me. As he disappeared, a presentment that Ishould never see him again crept over me, followed by an idle speculation whether it was he or I who was first to meet our fate, a feeling which I remembered well a few months later, when I received the news that Captain DeLacy had been shot in battle.
Shaking off the dim sense of foreboding, I gave my thoughts entirely to the task before me. I had decided to make my way down the side of the river I was then on. From what I had learned of the position of the enemy, I knew the risk would be no greater than if I crossed to the opposite shore, and I hoped to save many weary miles of travel. Being well aware of the extreme caution shown on our side, I thought the chances were that our army would be yet in the neighborhood of the place where I left them, and I aimed for that point.
I told Ned that I had secured a paper of the utmost importance, and that if I were shot and he escaped, he was to take the paper from its place of concealment and carry it on.
We turned to the left, down the first road we came to, after parting with Captain DeLacy and his men. Just before we reached it, we were stopped by a small party of Confederates on horseback. I offered my passes. Striking a match, an officer read them, and after a few questions, allowed us to go on. That was the only time the passes were of use to us, for as soon as I parted with my disguise they were, of course, worthless.
In order to make the best time possible, and avail ourselves of short cuts and bridle paths, it was necessary to leave the buggy and return to horseback. That we did at the earliest practical moment. As soon as we came to a rough bit of road, after our first turn, Ned drove the buggy to one side, and, knocking off a wheel, left it to its fate. When I was again in my own clothes, we made the harness and my disguise into several bundles, which Ned weighted and dropped into the first creek we came to.
That done, we hurried on. The night had turned cloudy and dark while we had been in the Confederate camp. It did not rain, but before long we struck a place where it had very recently, and our horses for a short distance were obliged to plough through slippery clay. Frequently we would see the fires of some outpost, and often a picket shot, sometimes startlingly near, would ring out on the murky night.
Well as I knew the country, I finally made a false turn in the confusing darkness, and approached the river when I thought we were still several miles away from it and following its course.
Leaving Ned in safe hiding, I crept forward to reconnoiter. I made for a rock overhanging the water, at the head of a bend in the river, from the edge of which I hoped to be able to tell if the fires opposite were repeated down the side I was on.
As I gained a sheltered place near the top and in the rear of the rock, I heard a boat grate on the pebbles beneath, and two men ascended to the very spot I had started for. I lay low behind the scanty bushes, while they sat down near me. From what they said, I gathered that they had crossed from the Rebel camp over the river to investigate the bank up stream for some purpose, but not liking the looks of something that had attracted their notice, they had stopped there to decide what they should do.
I was too near to move away without them hearing me. I was caught in a trap. Chaffing at a delay, when every moment was precious, and fearing that Ned, alarmed at my protracted absence, might come to look for me, I was obliged to crouch, motionless in my hiding place, while the two men so near me idly discussed topics relating to everything but the duty they were on. While I waited, theclouds began to break away, and once or twice the moonlight shone out full and strong, leaving me with little to shield me, had they chanced to turn around.
Finally, after what seemed hours to me, one decided to go over for re-enforcements and descended to the boat. Cautiously rising, as the other advanced to the extreme edge of the rock, I saw that his back was toward me and that he was intently watching the progress of the boat, then in mid-stream.
It was possible then for me to have slipped away unnoticed, but I was exasperated beyond endurance. An uncontrollable impulse seized me. Even if I had been sure that the whole Confederate army would have started to his rescue, I could not have helped pushing that man into the water. Moving noiselessly behind him, with the end of my revolver I gave him a sharp punch in the middle of the back. Taken completely off his guard, without aword, but with a wild whirl of arms and legs, he went straight down into the deep water beneath. I have wondered hundreds of times since, what that man thought was the matter with him. If he has lived to read this, he knows now.
I returned to where Ned was, and we began retracing our steps.
Although we made frequent attempts to get news, it was not until nearly morning that I learned that our troops had advanced to a point, nearer the place where I had made my way into the enemy's camp, and, consequently, nearer where I was then, but to my left. We immediately changed our route.
From the moment the order had fallen into my hands, my one desire and aim was to get it where the information it contained, together with what other I had gathered, could be put to instant use. Every nerve throbbed with impatience. Every delay was intolerable. Yet that entire ride back was a series of vexatious and dangerous delays. I was beset on everyside by dangers, which closed in on me at every point where I tried to evade them. Every mile counted for four in my eagerness to get on. I was obliged, time after time, to retrace my steps and make long detours to avoid running into bodies of skirmishers, to escape the vigilance of pickets, and to baffle the pursuers on our tracks.
Twice that night we stood with our coats drawn tightly over our horses' heads to keep them from making a sound to betray our presence to the enemy, passing so closely below that by stooping, we could have lifted the hats off of their heads with a ramrod.
Shortly after daybreak, as the first rays of of the sun showed over a neighboring hill, I lay in a hollow log, while a man from the column of passing soldiers sat on it to beat the dirt and stones from his remnants of shoes. The dust from the inside of the log, loosened by his pounding, choked me, until in my efforts to keep from coughing, I bit throughthe sleeve of my coat, and left the print of my teeth on my arm. About six hundred soldiers marched past me, as I watched them from a crevice in the log.
Across the road and half way up the hill beyond I could see where Ned crouched, keeping the horses back in the shelter of a low thicket. Knowing exactly where to look for him, he stood out with terrible distinctness to my abnormally keen sight, and I trembled whenever I saw a soldier turn his head in that direction.
Even now, as I think it over, with all my increased experience and knowledge of hair-breadth escapes, it seems simply incredible that we ever got through. But get through we did.
By eight o'clock, exhausted to faintness from hard riding, lack of food and loss of sleep, and with horses reeling from fatigue, we turned out onto a road which in a few minutes took us beyond danger. Loyal handsplaced fresh horses at our disposal, and with little loss of time, we were covering the last ten miles of our ride.
Soon the bit of paper, that "Lost Dispatch," which through all that long and fearful night had been the elixir that nerved me to my work, was in the hands of the proper officer, and I had communicated to him the additional information I had gathered. Both information and dispatch, without delay, were carried to the Commander in Chief.
I only did my duty. My responsibility ended there. But looking back now, it seems, as it did then, that better results should have been obtained through a quick action on the intelligence gathered.
THE END.