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 FORMWITHOUT 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 wordintended as a war drama; for war is merely its background, and always inthe 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 risethe clean white spirit of HUMANITY. 

The enmity between North and South is dead; it sleeps with the fathersand the sons, the brothers and the lovers, who died in a cause whicheach believed was just. 

Therefore this story deals, not with the right or wrong of a lostconfederacy, but with the mercy and generosity, the chivalry andhumanity which lived in the hearts of the Blue and Gray, a noblecontrast to the grim brutality of war. 

 * * * * *

The author is indebted to Mr. E. S. Moffat, who has novelized the playdirectly from its text, with the exception of that portion whichappeared as a short story under the same title several years ago, treating of Virgie in the overseer's cabin, and the endorsing of herpass by Lieutenant-Colonel Morrison. 

EDWARD PEPLE. 

THE LITTLEST REBEL

CHAPTER I

Young Mrs. Herbert Cary picked up her work basket and slowly crossed thegrass to a shady bench underneath the trees. She must go on with hertask of planning a dress for Virgie. But the prospect of making herdaughter something wearable out of the odds and ends of nothing was nota happy one. In fact, she was still poking through her basket andfrowning 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 HoustonCary burst upon the scene. She was a tot of seven with sun touched hairand great dark eyes whose witchery made her a piquant little fairy. Inspite of her mother's despair over her clothes Virgie was dressed, orat least had been dressed at breakfast time, in a clean white frock, lowshoes and white stockings, although all now showed signs of strenuoususage. Clutched to her breast as she ran up to her mother's side was"Susan Jemima, " her one beloved possession and her doll. Behind Virgiecame Sally Ann, her playmate, a slim, barefooted mulatto girl whosefaded, gingham dress hung partly in tatters, halfway between her kneesand ankles. In one of Sally Ann's hands, carried like a sword, was apointed stick; in the other, a long piece of blue wood-moss from whichdangled a bit of string. 

"Oh, Mother, " cried the small daughter of the Carys, as she came upflushed and excited, "what do you reckon Sally Ann and me have beenplaying out in the woods!"

"What, dear!" and Mrs. Cary's gentle hand went up to lift the hair backfrom her daughter's dampened forehead. 

"_Blue Beard_!" cried Virgie, with rounded eyes. 

"Blue Beard!" echoed her mother in astonishment at this childish freakof amusement. 

"Not really--on this hot day. "

"Um, hum, " nodded Virgie emphatically. "You know he--he--he was theterriblest old man that--that ever was. An' he had so many wifsesthat--"

"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' hiswives that--that some of the ladies got so they--they almost didn't liketo marry him!"

"Gracious, what a state of affairs, " cried Mrs. Cary, in well feignedamazement at the timidity of the various Mrs. Blue Beards. "And then--"

"Well, the last time he got married to--to another one--her name wasMrs. 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 showher. Kneel down. "

Clutching the piece of moss from Sally Ann, Virgie ran behind the girland 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 inthe 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 allaway. "

"Oh, don't be such a baby, " remonstrated the earnest Miss Virginia, witha correcting slap. "S'pose you were a man an' had to wear one all thetime. 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 beMrs. Fatima. " And then, as her mother's face showed signs of doubt as toher histrionic ability, "If you were _my_ little girl, I'd do it in aminute. "

"All right, dear, of course I will; but I've just remembered a bit oflace in your grandmother's trunk in the attic. I believe it will beexactly enough for the neck and sleeves of your new dress. " She smiledcourageously as she folded a piece of old silk she was remaking. "Youand--" she cast a glance at Sally Ann--"your respected brother-in-lawcan 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 tomake the slightest slip in your parts. "

"That's so, " agreed Virgie, raising her hands and clasping her tinyfingers thoughtfully. "And I'll tell you what--we'll mark off the castlewalls around the bench where the window's going to be. We ought to havea 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 eitherof you seen Uncle Billy. I' must find him, too, and plan something forour 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 faceas she went on toward the house. Could Uncle Billy possibly be leaving!The most trusted negro of all! No--_never_! She would almost as soondoubt 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 herown heart never to be less brave than the bravest. In her ears stillrang the echo of that first . .. 

 * * * * *

_Tara-tara!_

From far away a faint fanfare of trumpets, borne on brazen wings fromthe 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 menwhose flashing bayonets glisten and glitter in the morning light. Withsteady step and even rank, with thrill of brass lunged band andscreaming fife the regiments sweep by--in front, the officers on theirdancing steeds--behind them, line after line of youthful faces, chinsin, 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 firstbrave days of '61. Just so they marched out, defiant, from South andNorth alike, each side eager for the cause he thought was right, withbright pennons snapping in the breeze and bugles blowing gayly and nevera thought in any man's mind but that _his_ side would win and his ownlife be spared. 

And every woman, too, waving cheerful farewell to valiant lines ofmarching 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 contenderdriven to the wall, his cities turned to ashes, his lands laid waste. Always one depleted side which takes one last desperate stand in thesight of blackened homes and outraged fields and fights on through everdarkening days until the inevitable end is come. 

And the end of the Confederacy was now almost in sight. Three years offighting and the Seceding States had been cut in twain, their armieswidely separated by the Union hosts. Advancing and retreating but alwaysfighting, month after month, year after year the men in gray had come atlast to the bitterest period of it all--when the weakened South wasslowly breaking under the weight of her brother foes--when the twogreatest of the armies battled on Virginia soil--battled and passed totheir final muster roll. 

Of little need to tell of the privations which the pivotal state of theConfederacy went through. If it were true that Virginia had been simplyone vast arsenal where every inhabitant had unfailingly done his part inmaking war, it was also true that she had furnished many of its greatestbattlefields--and at what a frightful cost. 

Everywhere were the cruel signs of destruction and want--in scantylarder, patched, refurbished clothing, servantless homes--in dismantledouthouses, broken fences and neglected, brier-choked fields. Even thestaples of life were fast diminishing for every man who could shouldera gun had gone to fight with Lee, and few animals were left and fewerslaves. 

 * * * * *

Yet, for all the dismal outlook, Winter had passed without actualdisaster to the Confederate arms and now that Spring had come theplantation home of the Herbert Carys, twenty miles below Richmond, hadnever had a fairer setting. White-pillared and stately the old Colonialmansion stood on one of the low, emerald hills which roll back lazilyfrom the peaceful James. It was true that the flower beds had beentrampled down to ruin by alien horse and heel, but the scent of thehoneysuckle clinging to those shining pillars only seemed the sweeterfor the loss, and whatever else the forager might take, he could not robthem 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 oldtimeSouth, gentle and quiet eyed, her light summer dress of the cheapestmaterial, yet deftly fashioned by her own fingers from slightly openedneck, where an old brooch lay against her soft throat, down to thedainty spotless flounces lying above her petticoat of crinoline. 

Though her lips and eyes refused to betray it even when there was no oneto see, it was with a very heavy heart that she mounted the stairs tothe attic, thinking, contriving, clutching desperately at her fadinghopes. 

For good reason the plantation was very silent on this warm springmorning. Where only a year before dozens of soft eyed Jerseys had rangedthrough the pastures and wood lots there was now no sound of tinklingbells--one after another the fine, blooded stock had been requisitionedby a sad faced quartermaster of the Army of Northern Virginia. And oneby one the fat porkers who had muzzled greedily among the ears from theCary 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 quarterswere quite as empty as the once teeming cabins themselves. Poverty, grimand relentless, had caught the Carys in its iron hand and behindPoverty stood its far more frightening shadow--Starvation. 

But in these gloomy thoughts she was not entirely alone. All thattroubled her and more, though perhaps in a different way, passed hourlythrough the old gray kinky head of Uncle Billy who happened at this verymoment to be emerging stealthily from the woods below the house. Slowlyand deliberately he made his way toward the front till he reached abench where he sat down under a tree to ruminate over the situation andinspect the feathered prize which he had lately acquired by certain, devious means known only to Uncle Billy. Wiping his forehead with hisragged sleeve and holding the bird up by its tied feet he regarded itwith the eye of an expert, and the fatigue of one who has been sorelyput to it in order to accomplish his purpose. 

"It 'pears to me, " said Uncle Billy, "dat des' when you needs 'em themostest the chickens goes to roosting higher 'n' higher. Rooster--Iwonder who you b'longs to. Um-_um_!" he murmured as he thoughtfullysounded the rooster's well developed chest through the feathers. "Fromde 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 tomourn over the probable toughness of his booty, and as he rose up fromthe seat and meandered toward the kitchen, his old, wrinkled face brokeinto 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 tosee you. Yas, _seh_!"

But as Uncle Billy walked slowly along beside the hedge which shieldedthe house on one side he heard a sound which made him halt. A youngnegro, coming from the rear, had dodged behind the hedge and was tryingto keep out of his sight. 

"Hi, dar! You, Jeems Henry!" shouted Uncle Billy, instantly suspiciousof such maneuvers. "Come heh! Hear _me_! Come heh!"

At this sudden command a young mulatto, hesitating, came through a breakin the hedge and stood looking at him, sullen and silent. In his handshe carried a small bundle done up in a colored handkerchief and on thisguilty piece of baggage Uncle Billy's eye immediately fastened with anangry frown. 

"Whar you gwine?" demanded Uncle Billy, with an accusing fingertrembling 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 awayfrom Uncle Billy's eye and tried to pass him by. 

"Den _I'll_ tell you whar you gwine, " shouted Uncle Billy, furious atlast. "You's runnin' 'way to de Yankees, dat's whar you gwine. "

At this too truthful thrust Jeems Henry saw that further deceit would befutile 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' stolenothin'. "

"You is too, " and Uncle Billy's forefinger began to shake in theother's face. "You's stealin' a _nigger_!"

"What dat?" and Jeems Henry's eyes opened wide with amazement. "What youtalkin' 'bout?"

"Talkin' 'bout _you_, " replied Uncle Billy, sharper than ever. "Dey saya nigger's wuth a thousan' dollars. 'Cose _you_ ain't wuth dat much, " hesaid with utter disgust. "I put you down at a dollar and a quarter. Butdat ain't de p'int, " and he steadily advanced on the other till theirfaces were only a few inches apart. "It's dis. _You_, Jeems Henry, belongs to Mars' Herbert Cary an' Miss Hallie; an' when you runs 'wayyou's stealin'. _You's stealin yo'sef!_"

"H'm!" sniffed Jeems Henry, now that the nature and extent of his crimewere fully understood. "Ef I ain' wuth but a dollar an' a quarter, Isuttenly ain' stealin' _much_!"

At this smart reply Uncle Billy's disgust overcame him completely and hetossed 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' yearsyounger 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 yougwine? You hear me? Now den!"

"I gwine up de river, " replied Jeems Henry, badgered at last intorevealing his plan. Then, after a cautious look around, --"toChickahominy 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 thinkyou 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, " JeemsHenry stammered in reply. "It's better'n being a slave, Unc' Billy, " headded 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 narrowedwith contempt and loathing. "Me?" he said, and a rigid arm pointed backat 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_'? Lookheah, 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 hispa befo' him. Dey feed me and gimme de bes' dey got. Dey take care of mewhen I'm sick--an' dey take care of me when I'm well--an' _I_ gwine tostay right here. But you? You jes' go on wid de Yankees, an' black derboots. Dey'll free you, " and Uncle Billy's voice rose in prophetictones--"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 widyo' _Yankee_ marsters--and git yo' freedom an' a blackin' brush. "

So engrossed were both the actors in this drama that they failed tohear the sound of footsteps on the veranda, and it was so that themistress 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 thesteps and regarded the angry pair with well-bred surprise. 

"Why, Uncle Billy, " she queried, "what is going on here? What _is_ thematter?"

"It's Jeems Henry; dat's what's de matter, " said Uncle Billy, in defenseof his agitation. "He's runnin' 'way to de Yankees. "

Mrs. Cary stopped short for a moment and then came slowly down thesteps. 

"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 painfulthought--of self-accusation, of hopeless regret, of sorrow for one whocould be so foolishly misguided. "I'm sorry not only for ourselves butfor _you_. You know, I promised Mammy before she died that I would lookafter you--always. "

Still Jeems Henry made no answer and old Uncle Billy saw fit to make adisclosure. 

"He's gwine up to Chickahominy. " Then to Jeems Henry he added somethingin 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'llgit 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, stickingtenaciously to his point, because he could plainly see Jeems Henrywavering. "'Twas jes las' night I hear one--moanin' 'roun' de smokehouse. An' ef I ain't mighty fur wrong, she was smellin' arfter JeemsHenry. "

At this wild fabrication, the reason for which she neverthelessappreciated, Mrs. Cary had hard work to hold back a smile, although shepromptly 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 Ishall not try to keep you. But what have you in that bundle?"

"Hi! Hi! Dat's de way to talk!" interrupted Uncle Billy, excitedlyforeseeing means to prevent Jeems Henry's departure. "What you got inyo' bundle?"

Jeems Henry lifted his anguished eyes and gazed truthfully at hismistress. 

"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 longtramp 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 canfind. "

At this unheard-of generosity, Uncle Billy's eyes opened widely and heexploded 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, areyou coming?"

But Jeems Henry, completely abashed before this miracle of kindnesswhich 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 gwinetake keer of myse'f. "

Mrs. Cary, pausing on the bottom step, raised her eyes heavenward in ashort prayer that children such as these might somehow be protected fromthemselves. 

"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 littlemore--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 andwith an audible snuffle and his hand over his eyes he retreated--thenturned his back and plunged through the hedge. 

Mrs. Cary sank down on the step and looked as if she, too, would like tocry. 

Manfully, Uncle Billy came to her rescue. "Now don't you care, MissHallie. He wan' no 'count for plowin' no how. "

"Oh, it isn't that, Uncle Billy, " Mrs. Cary replied with a low cry ofregret. "It isn't the actual loss of help, tho' we need it, goodnessknows. But it makes me sad to see them leaving, one by one. They aresuch children and so helpless--without a master hand. "

"Yas'm, " agreed Uncle Billy readily. "An' de marster's han' ought tohave a hick'ry stick in it fer _dat_ nigger. Yas, bless Gawd. But yougot _me_, Miss Hallie, " he announced proudly. "_I_ ain't runned away tode blue-bellies yet. "

"No, you dear old thing, " Mrs. Cary cried with laughing relief, and herhand rested on his shoulder in a gentle caress. "I'd as soon think ofthe skies falling. It is just such faithful friends as you who help meto fight the best. "

"Um?" said Uncle Billy promptly, not quite understanding. 

"I mean a woman's battles, Uncle Billy--the _waiting_ battles--that wefight 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 withtears. "The most truthful--the most _honest_--"

Mrs. Cary stopped and looked sharply at something lying on the groundbeside the steps. Then she turned and swept the old man with an accusingglance 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 andignorance. 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 theunfamiliar bird. No fear that she would not recognize it if it werehers. "Whose is he?" she asked. 

"You--you mean who he b'longs to?" queried Uncle Billy, fencing for timein 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 youget 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 delow grouns--dis mornin'. Dat's right, " he said, as he saw dawningunbelief 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 natcherlytrespassin'. "

At this marvel of testimony, Mrs. Cary's lips relaxed in a smile and shewarned 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-gothim! Oh, I's tellin' de trufe, Miss Hallie. Dis' here ol' sinner tookenflewed off a boat what was comin' up de river. Yas'm. And he sure wasold 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 amoment, caught in his own trap. "Dat is, not wid my own eyes. But I seehim settin' in de woods, lookin' dat lonesome and losted like, I feltreal sorry for him. Yas'm, " and to prove his deep sympathy for theunfortunate 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 unusualrapidity. "I got down on all fo's in the thick weeds, an' cluk like ahen. An' den ol' Mr. Rooster, he came 'long over to see ef I done laidan aig--an' I des reach right out an' take him home to de Lawd. "

"Oh, Uncle Billy, " his mistress laughed. "I'm afraid you'reincorrigible. It's a dreadful thing to doubt one's very dinner. Isn'tit?"

"Yas'm. An' I was des 'bout to say ef you an' Miss Virgie kin worry downde white meat, maybe den dis here bird 'll kinder git eben wid me when Itackle his drum sticks. Yas'm, " and with a final chuckle of joy over hissuccess the old man hobbled quickly away in the direction of thekitchen. 

Mrs. Cary, still smiling, went back to play Mrs. Fatima to a duskymoss-covered Blue Beard. 

"Oh goody, goody, here is Mrs. Fatima again!" and Virgie's dancing feetseemed hardly to touch the ground. "We've just finished building thecastle. Look!" She pointed proudly to a square of twigs and leavesaround the garden seat. "Come on, Sally Ann. We can play it now and useMamma's keys. "

"Wait dar! Whar'd I put my s'wode?" And Sally Ann snatched up herdangerous weapon and thrust it into a rope around her waist. "Now I'seready fo' killin' folks. "

"But we have to begin where Blue Beard goes away on a journey, " Virgiecried. "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 frowningterribly. "I'se gwine away fer a night an' a day. Dese yere is de keysto de castle. "

"Yes, sir, " was the meek response. 

Sally Ann Blue Beard pointed to an imaginary door halfway between themand where Virgie sat on the steps, wriggling with delight. "You kin lookin 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 threateninglythrough the air. "Fyarwell--fyarwell. "

"Farewell, my lord, " said Mrs. Cary, and then in a whisper, as BlueBeard 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 thehorseman in the cloud of dust. " And jumping up, the child managed tochange the tones of her voice in a surprising manner. 

"Good morning, fair sister. Blue Beard has gone away, and now we canlook in his secret room. "

"No, Sister Anne, No! I dare not, " and Mrs. Fatima shrank back full offear 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 theinvisible 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 terrifiedsilence, 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 leftMrs. Fatima to face her fate alone. 

Having spent a night and a day behind the tree, Blue Beard now rushedupon 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 onyo' 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 onehand and a carriage whip in the other came slowly upon the scene. At thesight of Sally Ann apparently about to assault his mistress the bridledropped from his hand and with a tight clutch on the carriage whip hecovered the intervening space at an amazing speed. 

"Hi, dar! You li'l woolly haided imp! You tech Miss Hallie wid dat arstick an' I bus' you wide open!"

"Oh, stop, Uncle Billy!" cried Virgie in dismay. "We're only having aplay!"

"Maybe you is; but I lay ef I wrop my carriage whip roun' her laig, desoncet, she'll hop all de way to de river. "

At this dismal prospect, which seemed much truer than the play, SallyAnn began to whimper loudly. "Miss Hallie, ef he stay here, I ain'tgwine 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' gwinekill you. Fyar you well, " and Blue Beard, making a wide circle aroundthe 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'scoming this way. " By this time Virgie's acting had taken on so close aresemblance to the real thing that both Mrs. Gary and Uncle Billy roseto their feet in wonder. 

"He's jumped the _fence_, " cried Virgie. "He's cutting across ourfields! He sees me! He's waving his hat to me!" With the last words thechild suddenly jumped down from the bench and ran through the opening inthe hedge, leaving her mother gazing after her in sudden consternation. 

"Name we Gawd! Miss Hallie, " gasped Uncle Billy. "You reckon she donebrought 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 uniformof 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 aflash, coming to her across the little space of lawn with his whole soulin his eyes. With his dear wife caught in his arms he could do nothingbut 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 aftermonths of separation, after dangers and terrors and privations which hadseemed as if they never would end. 

Sally Ann was one of the first to interrupt, edging up at the earliestopportunity with her beard in her hand. "How you does, Mars' Cary? Howyou fine yo'sef, seh?"

"Why, hullo, Sally Ann!" said Cary, and put out his hand. "What on earthis 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 thepleasure of cutting you into ribbons. " Herbert Cary's shining saberflashed half out of its scabbard and then, laughing, he slapped it backwith a clank. 

"Sally Ann, " he announced, "I'm going to turn you into Sister Anne for awhile. You run up to Miss Hallie's room and sit by the window where youcan 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 allreport to me at once. Understand? Off with you!"

Uncle Billy now came forward in an effort to make his master's clothesmore presentable. 

"Heh, Mars' Cary, lemme brush you off, seh. You's fyar kivered. "

"Look out, you old rascal, " Cary laughed, as his wife backed awaycoughing before the cloud of fine white dust that rose under UncleBilly's vigorous hands. "You're choking your mistress to death. Nevermind the dust. I'll get it back in ten minutes. "

Mrs. Cary clasped her hands together at her breast with a look ofentreaty. 

"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 arethere in the stable?"

"Two--only two, " was the broken response, as his wife sank downdisconsolate 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 myhorse and get Belle out of the stable. Lead them down to the swamp andhide them in the cedars. Then saddle Lightfoot--bring him here and givehim 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 madeoff for the stables at top speed. 

Mrs. Cary looked up at her husband with a great fear written on herface. 

"Why, Herbert dear. You--you don't mean to say that the Yankees are inthe 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 foragingparties--small ones, a few miles down the river. I've been dodging themall morning. If they come at all they won't trouble either you orVirgie. "

"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 upin a hearty hug. "_You're_ not afraid of them, --nor you either, Godbless 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 housefor arms or stragglers, make no resistance. It's best. "

"Yes, yes, I know, " his wife cried out, "but you, dear, _you_! Why areyou here? Why aren't you with your company?"

Cary looked away for a moment across the fields and down the slopetowards the shimmering river. They were very beautiful--he wondered whyhe had not fully realized all that wife and child and home meant to himwhen he volunteered recently for a certain hazardous duty. He knew, too, how quickly his dear wife would know the full extent of the peril withwhich he felt himself surrounded. And so his reply was short andseemingly gruff, as many another man's has been under too heavycircumstances. 

"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--sohorrible--so--"

He put up his hand, with a forced smile, to check her, and broke ingayly. 

"Ah, but think of the fun in it. It's like playing hide-and-go-seek withVirgie. "

But his wife was not to be put off so lightly and she put her impellinghands on his arm. 

Gary changed his tone. His voice deepened. 

"They need me, dear, " he said earnestly. "What does danger to one manmean when Dixie calls us all? And I'm doing work--good work. I'vealready given one battle to General Lee and now I have information thatwill give him another and a bigger one. Two nights ago I came throughthe 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 tallpine tree and got the lay of their camp--the number of their guns--thedisposition of forces and their lines of attack. Yesterday I had thewires at Drury's Bluff and started trouble. I'm on my way now to join mycommand, but I had a good excuse for coming home to hold you in in myarms again, if only for a moment. You see, poor old Roger got a wound inhis 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 thesteps, 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 thegate 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 totell him. "

Cary, returning, waved Sally Ann back to her post. "That's right, " helaughed. "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 letme give you something to eat. "

For answer Cary gently imprisoned her face in his hands. "Honey, Ican't, " he said, his eyes grown sad again. "Just fix me upsomething--anything you can find. I'll munch it in the saddle. "

For a moment their lips clung and then she stepped back with a brokensigh. "I'll do the best I can, but oh! how I wish it all were over andthat we had you home again. "

A spasm crossed the man's face. "It soon _will_ be over, sweetheart. Itsoon _will_ be. "

His wife flung him a startled look. "You mean--Oh, Herbert! Isn't therea single hope--even the tiniest ray?"

Cary took her hands in his, looked into her eyes and his answer breathedthe still unconquered spirit of the South. "There is always hope--aslong 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'sshining head. "Have you been taking good care of mother--and seeing thatUncle Billy does his plowing right?"

"Yes, sir, " came the prompt response. "Susan Jemima an' me have beenlookin' 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 Iwas feedin' him with milk he nearly swallowed my silver spoon. "

"Ha-ha, " laughed the amused soldier, and swept her up in his arms. "Ifwe could only get rid of all their generals as easy as that we'd promisenot 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 whichway he went?"

"I don' know, " whimpered Virgie forlornly. "I only wish I was a soldierwith 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 andin the roadway Uncle Billy stood feeding and watering his master'shorse. In this bitterest of moments, when his own family had to be theones to hurry him along his way, there had come another and greaterdanger--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 orlater, 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 thelay 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 wasthe use of fighting forever against such fearful odds? What could theyever gain--save a little more honor--and at what dreadful cost?

"What makes you look so worried, Herbert?" his wife murmured, her nerveson edge again. 

"Yes, it's true, " the man said with a groan. "They're gradually closingin 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 canfight against thousands--and against tens of thousands but, darling, wecan't fight half the world. "

He sank down on the bench, one elbow on his crossed knee, the other armhanging listlessly by his side. His face grew lined and haggard. All thespirit, the indomitable courage of a moment ago had fled before therevelation that, try as they might, they could never conquer in thisterribly 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 thecradle and the grave. Old men--who can scarcely bear the weight of amusket on their shoulders: and boys--mere children--who are sacrificedunder the blood-stained wheels. The best! The flower of our land! Weare dumping them all into a big, red hopper. Feed! Feed! Always morefeed for this greedy machine of war!"

Silently wife and daughter came to the man in his despair, as if to wardoff some dark shape which hovered over him with brushing wings. Theirarms went around him together. 

"There, there, dear, " he heard a soft voice whisper, "don't growdespondent. _Think!_ Even though you've fought a losing fight it hasbeen 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 yourbattles--on our knees. "

Slowly the man looked up. 

"Forgive me, honey, " he murmured remorsefully. "You are right--andbravest, after all. It is you--you women, who save us in the darkesthours. You--our wives--our mothers--who wage a silent battle in thelonely, broken homes. You give us love and pity--tenderness and tears--aflag of pride that turns defeat to victory. The women of the South, " hecried, and Herbert Cary doffed his hat before his wife, "the crutch onwhich the staggering hope of Dixie leans!"

There came, then, the sound of hurrying footsteps. Once more Sally Annrushed from the house but this time genuine danger was written plainlyin 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 theedge of the woods. Don't worry, Hallie, they'll never catch me once I'min the saddle. "

He stooped and kissed her, then caught up Virgie for a last hug, buryinghis worn face in her curls. "Good-by, little one. Take good care ofMother. Good-by!"

With one last grasp his wife caught his hand. "Herbert! which way do yougo?"

"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'llswim the river higher up. " He slapped his holster with his open hand. "Listen for three shots. If they come in quick succession--then I'vecrossed--I'm safe. If I only had a few men I'd stay, but alone, Ican't--you know I can't. Good-by! God bless you. " And in another momenthe was in the saddle--had waved his hand--was gone. 

Straining their eyes after him, as if they would somehow pierce the darkwoods which hid his flight, mother and daughter stood as if turned tostone. 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 owneyes, began to wring her hands and cry hysterically. "Aw, Miss Hallie, Iso skeered! I so skeered!"

"Sally, " cried Mrs. Cary, as the sound of hoofbeats thudding through thewoods came unmistakably to her ears, "take Virgie with you instantlyand run down through the grove to the old ice house. Hide there underthe 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 widyou! Ou-ou!"

"But you can't, I tell you, " her mistress answered, as the certainty ofthe 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'ssleeve. "_I'll_ take care of you. " Then her eye fell on Susan Jemimalying neglected on the bench and she gave a faint scream at herheartlessness. "Goodness gracious, Mother, " she cried, as, still holdingon to Sally Ann, she ran and caught up her beloved doll. "I nearlyforgot my child!"

With the clank of sabers and the sound of gruff commands already in herears, Mrs. Cary turned peremptorily to Uncle Billy. 

"Remember, William! If the Yankees ask for my husband _you haven't seenhim!_"

"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 detainthem the better for Captain Cary. You'd better come in yourself. "

"Yas'm, " replied the faithful old man, although such action was farthestfrom 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 planof operations changed. Hurrying down the steps he plunged his arm underthe porch and drew forth--a rusty ax. With his weapon over his shoulderhe 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 accoutermentsand then, from the other side of the hedge, came a half dozen troopersin 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 silverwhile the Colonel is stealing the horses, eh?" Then his eyes fell onUncle Billy and he greeted him with a yell of recognition. "Hello, youblack old ape! Come down and show us where you buried the silver and thewhisky. Oh, you won't? Then I'll come up and get you, " and he lurchedforward. 

"Look here, white man, " Uncle Billy shouted, lifting the rusty ax highin the air, "you stay whar you is. Ef you come up dem steps I'll splityo' ugly haid! I know you, Jim Dudley, " he cried. "Mars' Cary done giveyou _one_ horse whippin', an' ef you hang aroun' here you'll get anudderone!"

Furious at the recollection of his shame of a few years back when he hadbeen overseer on this same plantation, the Sergeant rushed up the stepsand knocked the ax aside with his gun barrel. "Yes, he did whip me, burnhim, and now I'll do the same for you. " Seizing Uncle Billy by thethroat he pushed him against the house. 

Instantly the door swung open. Mrs. Cary, her head held high, herbeautiful dark eyes blazing with wrath, stood on the threshold. 

"Stop it!" she commanded in tones that brooked no disobedience even froma 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 sowell--and handsome. "

The words might as well have been spoken to the wind for all the noticethat the woman paid them. With only a gesture of mingled contempt andloathing she stepped to the railing and called to the grinning troopersbelow. "Who is in command here?"

To her horror only Dudley answered. 

"_I_ am, " he said, triumphantly. He thrust a menacing face close to hersand ordered her curtly. "And I'd just as soon have _you_ get me a drinkas the nigger. Come on, fine lady. "

Intent on insulting this woman whose husband had once cut his back witha whip the man caught her by the arm and roughly tried to pull her tohim. But before he could accomplish his purpose retribution fell on himwith a heavy hand. 

Through a gap in the hedge an officer at the head of a dozen troopersappeared. One look at the scene on the veranda and Lieutenant-ColonelMorrison, with a smothered cry, dashed up the steps. 

"You beastly coward, " and catching the drunkard by the collar he twistedhim 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 aringing command. "Report to Lieutenant Harris--at once--_under arrest!_Corporal! Take his gun. " He paused a moment as a brother of the man nowunder arrest stepped forward with a sullen face and obeyed orders. Running his glance over the line of faces, now suddenly vacant ofexpression, he whipped them mercilessly with his eye. "You men, too, will hear from me. Go to the stable and wait. Another piece of work likethis 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 feetaway, no longer timid but in entire possession of her faculties beforewhat, she knew, might prove a greater danger than a drunkard. 

"Madam, " said the Union officer as he doffed his hat, "I couldn'tapologize for this, no matter how hard I tried; but, believe me, Iregret it--deeply. "

In answer she slowly raised her heavy lidded eyes and gave him herfirst thrust--smoothly and deftly. 

"No apology is demanded, " she murmured in soft tones. "I was merelyunfamiliar 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 servantassaulted--by a drunken ruffian. "

"The man will be punished, " was the stern reply, "to the limit of myauthority. "

"He _should_ be. We know him, " the Southern woman said bitterly. "Beforethe war he was our overseer. He was cruel to the negroes and my husbandgave him a taste of his own discipline--with a riding whip!"

"Ah, I see, " Morrison nodded. "But it is not always in an officer'spower to control each individual in the service--especially at such atime. Yet I assure you on the part of the Union--and mine--that therewas no intention of attack. "

Mrs. Cary had chosen this moment in which to draw her visitor off theveranda and when she had successfully brought him to the foot of thesteps she looked up in smiling sarcasm with another thrust. 

"Oh! Then since your visit would seem a _social_ one--how may I serveyou, sir?"

Morrison laughed lightly. This pretty cat could scratch. 

"I'm afraid, dear madam, you are wrong again. My detachment is onforaging duty. It is not a pleasant task--but our army is in need ofhorses and supplies, and by the rules of war, I must take what I canfind. "

"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 onlyoffer, as I would to every other woman of the South, all courtesy andprotection at my command, " and Lieutenant-Colonel Morrison, for thesecond 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 beingplundered by a gentleman. " She made a short gesture which took inhouse, plantation and all the Cary possessions. "I regret sincerely thatwe 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 mustadmit, I hardly blame you. " And then, with a quick, searching look, "Arethere 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 saidcontemptuously and moved away. 

"Thank you, " was the grave reply, and he turned to dismiss his men. Thena thought struck him and he detained her with a gesture. 

"Pardon me, but if it _was_ true--if a brother or a father--wasconcealed in there--wouldn't your answer be the same?"

The answer that came proudly back did not amaze him. "I would try toprotect them--yes! Even with a _perjury_!"

"Ah!" he said sharply. "Then, don't you you see, you tie the hands ofcourtesy and _force_ me to--to this invasion of your home. _Corporal!_Make a search of the house for hidden arms or stragglers and report tome. If any rebels are found--bring them out. Wait, " he ordered, as theCorporal promptly started forward, "nothing else, _whatever_, must betaken or molested. "

"One moment, " commanded Mrs. Cary in her turn and beckoned to UncleBilly who had been standing by in silence. "William! conduct thesesoldiers through my house--and show them every courtesy. If theColonel's orders are not obeyed, report to me. "

"Yas'm, " grinned Uncle Billy, with an opera bouffe salute. "Ev'rymolestashun I'se gwine report. "

Morrison laughed outright. "I'm sorry you still have doubts of myhonorable intentions. May--may my soldiers go in now? Thank you. "

He walked away a few steps, then turned and looked at her where she saton 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 eyesprobed hers, "but, curiously enough, it seems to have been recentlyoccupied. "

"Yes?" was the non-committal reply. 

"Yes, " he echoed, with a touch of iron in his voice. "And you can insureour leaving you more quickly if you will tell me where these horses havebeen hidden. "

Mrs. Cary did not raise her eyes. 

"Granted that we _had_ them, " she said, "I'm afraid I must trouble youto look for them. Otherwise there would be no sense in trying to protectmy property. "

"Right again, " he acknowledged, but did not swerve from what he had todo. "Orderly, " he commanded, "report to Lieutenant Harris at the stablesand have him hunt the woods and swamp for hidden horses. Hurry! We mustleave in half an hour. "

As Morrison spoke his eye fell on the roadway and he startedperceptibly. When he turned back to the woman on the bench it was with asterner light in his eye. 

"I also notice that a horse has recently been fed and watered in yourcarriage road. _Whose was he?_"

Again that smooth, soft voice with its languid evasions. "We haveseveral 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 manand beast. "

"I can well believe it, " he replied, for he saw to cross-examine thisquick witted woman would be forever useless. "And in happier times Icould wish it might extend--to me. 

"Oh, I mean no offense, " he interrupted as Mrs. Cary rose haughtily. "Ionly want you to believe that I'm sorry for this intrusion. "

She raised her eyebrows faintly and sat down again. "And was that thereason why you asked about my neighbor's horse?"

"No, " he said quickly, and as suddenly caught and held her eye. "There'sa Rebel scout who has been giving us trouble--a handsome fellow riding abay horse. I thought, perhaps, he might have passed this way. "

If he had thought he would detect anything in her face he was once moremistaken. 

"It is more than possible, " Mrs. Cary remarked with a touch ofweariness. "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 youtake. "

"Possibly. But suppose you were riding north. Wouldn't the right forklead to Richmond--and the left swing around toward the river crossing?"

"As to that I must refer you to a more competent authority, " sheanswered with a hint of some disclosure in her tones. 

"Who?"

"Mr. Jefferson Davis, " she replied and almost laughed outright as heturned away to hide his vexation. This was an easy game for her toplay--and every moment she gained added to Herbert's safety. But if onlyshe 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 therewas in the stables and are waiting for your orders. "

"Very well, " and Lieutenant-Colonel Morrison's incisive words rangmercilessly in the listening woman's ears. "Pick out the best shots youhave among your men and send them at the gallop down this road to theriver crossing. String them along the bank, dismount them and have themwatch 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 shehad plenty of spirit left, for as Corporal Dudley and his file oftroopers emerged from the house she stood up and caught Uncle Billy'seye. 

"Well, Corporal?" asked Morrison. 

"Well, William?" asked Mrs. Cary. 

"It's all right, Miss Hallie, " Uncle Billy grinned. "Dey ain't tooknothin'--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 herseat under the trees. But as she went it took all her strength of willto keep from crying. Down the carriage road a squad of cavalry wasgalloping furiously towards the river. And still she had not heard thethree 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 joinyou in a moment. " Then he turned to Mrs. Cary, his face stern withresolve. 

"Madam, " he said crisply, "you are not alone on this plantation withonly this old negro. We are wasting time. I'm after a Rebel scout and _Iwant him_. Which way did he go?"

"I'm sorry, sir, " she said, quite ready to play her game again. "But ourRebel 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 thetruth in spite of anything she might say. 

But while he looked he saw her strained face suddenly relax--saw theanxiety flee from her eyes--saw heart and soul take on new life. Fromfar away across the river had come some faint popping sounds, regularlyspaced--_three shots_. 

"Ah!" he said, in wonder. "What is that?"

"It _sounds_, " laughed Herbert Cary's wife, "like firing. But I think itis a friend of mine saluting me--from the safe side of the river. Goodevening, 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 atrooper, white with dust, his animal flecked with foam. 

"For Colonel Morrison. Urgent, " he rasped from a dry throat, as hethudded across the lawn and dismounted. "From headquarters, " and hethrust out a dispatch, "I'm ordered to return with your detachment. "

Snatching the dispatch from the man's hand Morrison ran his eye overit--then started visibly. 

"Orderly! Report to Harris double-quick. Recall the men. Soundboots-and-saddles. Then bring my horse--_at once!_ Any details?" heasked peremptorily of the courier. 

"Big battle to-morrow, " the man answered. "Two gunboats are reportedcoming up the river and a wing of the Rebel army is advancing fromPetersburg. Every available detachment is ordered in. You are to reachcamp 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 acurtsy. "Some day the 'rebel scout' may thank you also for me and mine. "And with a smile that augured friendship when that brighter day shouldcome she passed out of his sight among the trees. 

For a moment he watched her, proud at least that this proud woman was ofhis own race, then saw that the old negro, her only protector, stillguarded the house. 

"Here, old man, " he commanded, "go along with your mistress and takecare of her. I'll be the last to leave and see that nothing happens tothe 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 openin consternation. With a cry of anguish he pointed to an upper window. 

"Look what dey done done, " he shrieked. "Aw, Gawd a'mighty! Look whatdey done done!"

A cloud of smoke was rolling from the windows, shot through with yellowjets of flame. There was the sound of clumsy boots on the stairs and thedoor was thrown open. Dudley, escaped from arrest, ran out with aflaming 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 onuntil a big revolver barked behind him and he pitched heavily forward onhis face. Morrison looked down on the prostrate form and his lips movedsadly, pityingly:

"And I promised her--protection!"

CHAPTER IV

Of all the memories of war, after the dear dead are buried, there is onethat serves to bring the struggle back in all the intensity of itshorrors--to stand both as a monument to those who bled and suffered andas a lonely sentinel mourning for the peace and plenty of the past--ablackened chimney. 

Of all the houses, cabins, barns and cribs which had made up the home ofthe Carys a few short months ago nothing remained to-day but ashes andblack ruin. Only one building had been left unburned and this, beforethe war, had been the cabin of an overseer. It had but two rooms, and ashallow attic, which was gained by means of an iron ladder reaching to aclosely fitting scuttle in the ceiling. The larger room was furnishedmeagerly with a rough deal table, several common chairs, and adouble-doored cupboard against the wall. In the deep, wide fire-placeglowed a heap of raked-up embers, on which, suspended from an ironcrane, a kettle simmered, sadly, as if in grief for her long-lostbrother pots and pans. The plaster on the walls had broken away inpatches, especially above the door, where the sunlight streamed throughthe gaping wound from a cannon shot. The door and window shutters wereof heavy oak, swinging inward and fastening with bars; yet now they wereopen, 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 itsmuddy banks, where the blue cranes waited solemnly for the ebbing tide;where the crows cawed hoarsely in their busy, reeling flight, and thebuzzards swung high above the marshes. Yet even in this waste oflistless desolation came the echoed boom of heavy guns far down theriver, 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 peeredfrom right to left, as a hunted rabbit might, then darted across theroad and plunged into the briery underbrush. Noiselessly he made his wayto the now deserted cabin, creeping, crawling till he reached a pointbelow 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 thewindowsill, his eyes fast closed with a nameless dread, till he caughthis grip again and entered the open door. 

"Virgie!" he called, in a louder tone, moving swiftly but unsteadilytoward the adjoining room. He flung its door open sharply, almostangrily; 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 thewall, wondering, listening to the pounding of his heart, to the murmurof the muddy James, and the fall of a flake of plaster loosened by thedull reverberation of a distant gun; then suddenly his eye was caughtby 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-bucketstood behind the door, knelt beside it, drinking deeply, gratefully, yetlistening the while for unwonted sounds and watching the bend of thecarriage road. His thirst appeased, he hunted vainly through the tabledrawer for balls and powder for the empty pistol at his hip; then, instinctively alert to some rustling sound outside, he crouched towardthe adjoining room, slipped in, and softly closed the door. 

From the sunlit world beyond the cabin walls rose the murmur of achildish song and Virgie came pattering in. 

She had not changed greatly in stature in the past few months, but therewas 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 andthe gingham dress which scarcely reached to her bare, brown knees wouldnot have done, a few months ago, for even Sally Ann. In one hand Virgiecarried a small tin bucket filled with berries; in the other sheclutched a doll lovingly against her breast. 

Not the old Susan Jemima, but a new Susan Jemima on whom an equalaffection was being lavished even though she was strangely andwonderfully made. To the intimate view of the unimaginative, SusanJemima was formed from the limb of a cedar tree, the forking branchesbeing her arms and legs, her costume consisting of a piece of rag tiedat the waist with a bit of string. 

On a chair at the table Virgie set her doll, then laughed at thehopelessness 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 andtaking a seat herself just opposite. She emptied the blackberries into amutilated plate, brought from the cupboard a handful of toasted acorns, on which she poured boiling water, then set the concoction aside tosteep. 

"Now, Miss Susan Jemima, " said Virgie, addressing her vis-à-vis with thehospitable courtesy due to so great a lady, "we are goin' to have somebreakfas'. " She paused, in a shade of doubt, then smiled a faintapology: "It isn't very _much_ of a breakfas', darlin', but we'll makebelieve it's waffles an' chicken an'--an' hot rolls an' batter-breadan'--an' everything. " She rose to her little bare feet, holding her wispof a skirt aside, and made a sweeping bow. "Allow me, Miss Jemima, tomake you a mos' delicious cup of coffee. "

And, while the little hostess prepared the meal, a man looked out fromthe partly open door behind her, with big dark eyes, which were like herown, yet blurred by a mist of pity and of love. 

"Susan, " said the hostess presently, "it's ready now, and we'll saygrace; so don't you talk an' annoy your mother. "

The tiny brown head was bowed. The tiny brown hands, with theirberry-stained fingers, were placed on the table's edge; but Miss SusanJemima sat bolt upright, though listening, it seemed, to the words ofreverence falling from a mother-baby's lips:

"Lord, make us thankful for the blackberries an' the aco'n coffeean'--an' all our blessin's; but please, sir, sen' us somethin' thattastes jus' a little better--if you don't mind. Amen!"

And the man, who leaned against the door and watched, had also bowed hishead. A pain was in his throat--and in his heart--a pain that grippedhim, till two great tears rolled down his war-worn cheek and were lostin his straggling beard. 

"Virgie!" he whispered hoarsely. "Virgie!"

She started at the sound and looked about her, wondering; then, as thename was called again, she slid from her chair and ran forward with ajoyous cry:

"Why, Daddy! Is it you? Is--"

She stopped, for the man had placed a finger on his lip and was pointingto the door. 

"Take a look down the road, " he ordered, in a guarded voice; and, whenshe had reached a point commanding the danger zone, he asked, "Seeanybody?--soldiers?" She shook her head. "Hear anything?"

She stood for a moment listening, then ran to him, and sprang into hiswaiting 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!" Andas she snuggled in his arms, her berry-stained fingers clasped tightlyabout his neck, he asked her wistfully, "Did you miss me?--_awful_much?"

"Yes, " she nodded, looking into his eyes. "Yes--in the night time--whenthe wind was talkin'; but, after while, when--Why, Daddy!" He hadstaggered as he set her down, sinking into a chair and closing his eyesas he leaned on the table's edge. "You are hurt!" she cried. "I--I cansee the blood!"

The wounded Southerner braced himself. 

"No, dear, no, " he strove to reassure her. "It isn't anything; only alittle 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-breathedwhisper:

"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 mindit any more. Get me a drink of water, will you?" As Virgie obeyed insilence, returning with the dripping gourd, the man went on: "I tried toget here yesterday; but I couldn't. They chased me when I camebefore--and now they're watching. " He paused to sip at his draught ofwater, 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, whenI 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 hityou. "

Two arms, in their tattered gray, slipped round the child. He kissedher, 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 imageand her memory. 

"Did you, honey?" he asked, with a trembling lip. "Well, I reckon thatsaved your daddy, for not one shell touched him--no, not one!" He kissedher again, and laughed. "And I tell you, Virgie, they were coming asthick as bees. "

Once more he sipped at the grateful, cooling draught of water, when thechild asked suddenly:

"How is Gen'ral Lee?"

Down came the gourd upon the table. The Southerner was on his feet, witha 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'sprayer for her father's immunity from harm; yet the man who spoke sankback 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 himsomethin'--from me?"

"Yes, dear. What?"

"Tell him, " said the child, with a thoughtful glance at Miss SusanJemima 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'lllet me--till he goes to sleep. " She clasped her fingers and looked intoher 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 hesay, Daddy? What?"

"He said, " her father answered, taking her hands in his: "'She's a bravelittle 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!" Fromhis boot leg he took a folded paper and spread it on his knee. "Hewrote you a pass--to Richmond. Can you read it?"

Virgie leaned against her father's shoulder, studying the paper long andearnestly; then, presently looked up, with a note of grave but courteoushesitation 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 hisgeneral and friend of this crushing criticism, if ever the fates of warpermitted them to meet again. 

"Dead right!" he agreed, with hearty promptness. "But come, I'll read itfor 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 hereyes and voice. 

"An' he did that--for little _me_? Oh, Daddy, I love him so much, it--itmakes me want to cry. "

She hid her face on the coat of gray, and sobbed; while her fatherstroked her hair and answered soothingly, but in a tone of mourningreverie:

"So do we all, darling; big grown men, who have suffered, and are losingall 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 andfight--till their hearts stop beating--and the god of battles writesthem a bloody pass!"

Again he had risen to his feet. He was speaking proudly, in the recklesspassion of the yet unconquered Southerner, only half-conscious of thetot who watched him, wondering. So she came to him quickly, taking hishand in both her own, and striving to bring him comfort from thefountain 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'shard enough on men; but harder still on children such as you. " Heturned to her gravely, earnestly: "Virgie, I had hoped to get youthrough 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 beennearly the whole night getting here; creeping through the woods--like anold Molly-cotton-tail--with the blue boys everywhere, waiting to get meif I showed my head. "

"But they didn't, did they?" said Virgie, laughing at his reference tothe wise old rabbit and feeling for the pockets of his shabby coat, "Didyou--did you bring me anything?"

At her question the man cried out as if in pain, then reached for her ina 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 Iwas so glad I had it, darling, for you are thinner than you were. " Hepaused to bite his lip, and continued haltingly, "There was bread inthat 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 forthe 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'salarm, her eyes on the widening stain of red above his waist. "Is--is ithurtin' you again? What is it, Daddy-man?"

"Your bundle, " he answered, in the flat, dull tone of utterhopelessness. "I lost it, Virgie. I lost it. "

"Oh, " she said, with a quaver of disappointment, which she vainly stroveto hide. "How did you do it?"

For a moment the man leaned limply against a chair-back, hiding his eyeswith one trembling hand; then he spoke in shamed apology:

"I--I couldn't help it, darling; because, you see, I hadn't any powderleft; and I was coming through the woods--just as I told you--when theYanks got sight of me. " He smiled down at her bravely, striving to add adash of comedy to his tragic plight. "And I tell you, Virgie, your olddad 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 hisformer 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, Imust have stumbled, because, when I scrambled up, I--I couldn't see justright; so I ran and ran, thinking of you, darling, and wanting to get toyou before--well, before it was breakfast time. I had your bundle in mypocket; but when I fell--why, Virgie, don't you see?--I--I couldn't goback and find it. " He paused to choke, then spoke between his teeth, infury 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! Iwould!"

A pitiful apology it was, from a man to a little child; a story toldonly in its hundredth part, for why should he give its untold horrors toa 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 andplunging through the tangled underbrush; alert and listening, dartingfrom tree to tree where the woods were thin; crouching behind somefallen log to catch his laboring breath, then rising again to creepalong 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 puffsof smoke that floated above the pines, and the ping of bullets whiningthrough 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 claybank, to lie for an instant in a crumpled heap, to rise and stumbleon--not toward the haven of his own Confederate lines, but forward, towhere a baby waited--through a dancing mist of red. 

And so the soldier made his poor apology, turning his head away toavoid a dreaded look in Virgie's big, reproachful eyes; then he addedone more lashwelt to his shame:

"And now your poor old daddy is no more use to you. I come to my littlegirl with empty hands--with an empty gun--and an empty heart!"

He said it bitterly, in the self-accusing sorrow of his soul; and hiscourage, which had borne him through a hell of suffering, now broke; butonly when a helper of the helpless failed. He laid his outflung armsacross 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 theSouth, who, like a hundred thousand of her sisters, brought comfort inthe blackest hours. 

One tiny, weak arm was slipped about his neck. One tiny brown hand, withits 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 whenyou have 'em _all_ the time; but _I_ don't mind. " She paused to kisshim, 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 asheep dog scenting danger from afar. Her father looked up sharply andgripped 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 manyhoofs 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 shesank her voice to a faint, awed whisper, "Daddy--do you reckonit'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 theshadow at sight of a blue-clothed watcher sharply outlined on the crestof a distant rise. Escape was cut off, and the hunted soldier turned toVirgie in his need. 

"Shut the door--quick!" She obeyed in silence. "Lock it!" She turned therusty 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 yourdear, dear mother--and I, too, darling--always told you never to tell alie?"

"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_!" Asthe child stepped backward and tried to draw away, he clasped her handsmore tightly still. "But listen, dear; it's to save _me_! Don't youunderstand?--and it's _right_! When those men come, they mustn't findme. Say I _was_ here, but I've gone. If they ask which way, tell them Iwent down past the spring--through the blackberry patch. Do youunderstand?--and can you remember?" She nodded gravely, and theSoutherner 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 inthe ceiling; but halfway up he paused, as Virgie checked him with asolemn question:

"Daddy--would Gen'ral Lee want me to tell that lie?"

"Yes, dear, " he answered slowly, thoughtfully; "this once! And, if everyou 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 hermind, and she cocked her head at the sound of louder hoof-beats on thecarriage road. 

"All right, Daddy-man. I'll tell--a _whopper_!"

CHAPTER V

The man crawled up through the scuttle hole and disappeared; then drewthe ladder after him and closed the trap, while Virgie tiptoed to thetable and slipped into a seat. 

The cabin was now in semi-darkness, except for a shaft of sunlightentering through the jagged wound from the cannon-shot above the door;and it fell on the quaint, brown head of little Miss Virginia Cary, andthe placid form of Susan Jemima, perching opposite, in serene contemptof the coming of a conquering host. 

The jingling clank of sabers grew louder to the listeners' ears, throughthe rumble of pounding hoofs; a bugle's note came winnowing across thefields, and Virgie leaned forward with a confidential whisper to herdoll:

"Susan Jemima, I wouldn't tell anybody else--no, not for anything--but Icert'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 asaber hilt against the door. Virgie breathed hard, but made no answer. 

"Open up!" called a voice outside, but the little rebel closed her lipsand sat staring at Susan Jemima across the table. A silence followed, short, yet filled with dread; then came a low-toned order and the crashof carbine butts on the stout oak door. For a time it resistedhopefully, then slowly its top sagged in, with a groaning, gratingprotest from its rusty hinges; it swayed, collapsed in a cloud ofdust--and the enemy swept over it. 

They came with a rush; in the lead an officer, a naked saber in hisfist, followed by a squad of grim-faced troopers, each with his carbinecocked and ready for discharge. Yet, as suddenly as they had come, theyhalted now at the sight of a little lady, seated at table, eatingberries, as calmly as though the dogs of war had never even growled. 

A wondering silence followed, till broken by a piping voice, in gravebut 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'tquite help it. " He glanced at the door of the adjoining room and turnedto his waiting men, though speaking in an undertone: "He's in there, Iguess. 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 behindto guard the cabin's open door. Virgie slowly turned her head, with eyesthat watched the officer's every move; then presently she called:

"Hey, there! That's _my_ room--an' don't you-all bother any of mythings, either!"

This one command, at least, was implicitly obeyed, for in a moment thedisappointed squad returned. The carbine butts were grounded; thetroopers stood at orderly attention, while their officer stepped towardthe 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. "Athousand pardons, Mademoiselle. " He shot his sword into its scabbard, and laughed again. "Might I inquire as to what you are called byyour--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 childagain:

"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 hercheeks; but she looked him squarely in the face, and lied--for GeneralLee:

"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 andsobbing failure, till a bubble from Mother Eve rose up in her youthfulblood and burst into a spray of perfect feminine deceit. She did not tryto add to her simple statement, but began to eat her berries, calmly, asthough the subject were completely closed. 

"Which way did he go?" the officer demanded, and she pointed with herspoon. 

"Down by the spring--through the blackberry patch. "

The soldier was half-convinced. He stood for a moment, looking at thefloor, 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, evenas he turned, his eye was caught by the double-doored cupboard againstthe wall. "What do you keep in there?" he asked; and the child smiledfaintly, 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 facewas close to hers. 

"What?"

"Colonel Mosby, " declared the mite, with a most emphatic nod; "an' youbetter 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 droppedhis air of amusement, growing stern again. "Now, men! Ready!"

They swung into line and faced the cupboard, the muzzles of theircarbines trained upon it, while their leader advanced, swung open thedoors, and quickly stepped aside. 

On the bottom shelf, as Virgie had declared, were a few disconsolate tinpans; yet tacked to the door was a picture print of Mosby--that dreadedguerrilla 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 disconcertedofficer, pointing at him with her spoon. "If a mouse had jumped out, Ireckon it would have scared you mos' to death. "

The officer's cheeks flushed red, in spite of his every effort atcontrol; nor was he assisted by the knowledge that his men weretittering behind his back. He turned upon them sharply. 

"That will do, " he said, and gave a brusque command: "Corporal, deployyour men and make a thorough search outside. Examine the ground aroundthe spring--and report!"

"Yes, sir, " returned Corporal Dudley saluting and dropping his handacross his mouth to choke off an exclamation of anger. Then he snarledat his men, to ease the pain of thwarted vengeance: "_'Tention! Rightface! Forward! March!_"

The squad trooped out across the broken door, leaving their commandingofficer alone with his rebel prisoner. 

"Now, Virgie, " he asked, in a kindly tone, though holding her eyes withhis, "do you mean to tell me--cross your heart--that you are here, justby 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 mysocial polish. " He gallantly removed his hat, bowed gravely to the cedarstick, and shook its hand. "Charmed to make your acquaintance, MissSusan, believe me. My own name is Morrison--Lieutenant-ColonelMorrison--at your service. " He turned to the little mother with a smilethat showed a row of white and even teeth. "And now, " he said, "since weare all informally introduced, suppose we have a quiet, comfortablechat. " He paused, but she made no answer. "Well? Aren't you going to askme 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 lipsprofaned. "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; "Isuppose they do--south of Washington. But don't you know we are justlike other people?" She shook her head. "Oh, yes, we are. Why, _I_ havea little girl at home--not any bigger than you. "

"Have you?" asked Virgie, her budding racial prejudice at war withyouthful curiosity. "What's her name?"

"Gertrude, " he answered softly, tenderly. "Gertrude Morrison. Would youlike to see her picture?"

"Yes, " said the little rebel, and stepped across the gulf which had lainbetween her and her enemy. "You can sit down if you want to. Jus' putSusan Jemima on the table. "

"Thank you, " returned her visitor, obeying instructions, seating himselfand loosening the upper buttons of his coat. On his neck, suspended bya chain, was a silver locket containing the miniature of a plump andpretty child. It had lain there since the war began, through many abivouac, many a weary march, and even in the charge he could feel ittapping against his breast; so now, as he held it out to Virgie, thefather'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'sfat, too. I reckon Gertrude gets lots to eat, doesn't she?"

"Why, yes, " agreed the father, thinking of his comfortable Northernhome; "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 ofhappiness 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 ofparental 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 herbreakfast 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 withanother 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 ofreverential awe; and, somehow, it hurt the well-fed Union officer farmore than had she made some direct accusation against the invadingarmies of the North. 

"Don't, Virgie--please, " he murmured softly. "There are some things wejust can't bear to listen to--even in times of war. " He sighed anddropped 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 nowhis raid of some months before upon this same plantation, so unfamiliarin its present neglected state. Again he looked into the fearless eyesof a Southern gentlewoman who mocked him while her lover husband swamthe river and escaped. Again he saw the mansion wrapped in flame andsmoke--the work of a drunken fiend in his own command. Yes, heremembered 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 ourhorses. Mamma an' me were all by ourselves--'ceptin' Uncle Billy andSally 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 handacross his eyes. 

"Yes, dear. Go on. "

The child had been standing opposite, with Susan Jemima and theacorn-coffee pot between them; but gradually she began to edge a littlenearer, till presently she stood beside him, fingering a shiny button onhis coat. 

"An' the blue boys ate up everything we had--an' took our corn. An' whenthey went away from our house, they--a man set it on fire. But anotherman got real mad with him, an'--an' shot him. _I_ know, 'cause UncleBilly put him in the ground. " She paused, then sank her voice to awhisper of mysterious dread, "An'--_an' I saw him!_"

"Don't think about it, Virgie, " begged Morrison, slipping his arm aboutthe mite, and trying not to put his own beloved ones in the littlerebel's place. "What happened then?"

"We came to live here, " said Virgie; "but Mamma got sick. Oh, she gotterrible sick--an' one night Daddy came through, and put her in theground, too. But _he_ says she's jus' asleep. "

The soldier started. Mrs. Cary dead? This poor tot motherless? He drewthe baby closer to him, stroking her hair, as her sleeping mother mighthave 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 manwho--"

"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 myAunt Margaret lives at, but he can't--'cause the Yankees are up theriver an' down the river, an'--an' everywhere--an' he can't. " Shepaused, 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--withholes in 'em. "

He could not answer. There was nothing for him to say, and Virgiescorched him with another question:

"What did you come after Daddy for?"

"Oh, not because I _wanted_ to, little girl, " he burst out harshly. "Butyou wouldn't understand. " He had turned away, and was gazing through theopen door, listening to the muttered wrath of the big black guns fardown the river. "It's war! One of the hateful, pitiful things of war! Icame 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 lineson the dusty floor with one small brown toe; for the child was wrestlingwith a problem. If a soldier had orders from his general, as she herselfmight put it, "he was _bound_ to come"; but still it was hard toreconcile such duty with the capture of her father. Therefore, sheraised her tiny chin and resorted to tactics of a purely personalnature:

"An' didn't you know, if you hurt my daddy, I'd tell Uncle Fitz Lee onyou?"

"No, " the Yankee smiled. "Is he your uncle?"

The littlest rebel regarded him with a look of positive pity for hisignorance. 

"He's _everybody's_ uncle, " she stated warmly. "An' if I was to tellhim, he'd come right after you an'--an' lick the _stuffins_ out ofyou. "

The soldier laughed. 

"My dear, " he confided, with a dancing twinkle in hip eye, "to tell youthe 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 weshift our conversation to matters a shade more pleasant. Take you, forinstance. You see--" He stopped abruptly, turning his head and listeningwith keen intentness. "What's that?" he asked. 

"_I_ didn't hear anything, " said Virgie, breathing very fast; but shetoo had heard it--a sound above them, a scraping sound, as of someonelying flat along the rafters and shifting his position and, while shespoke, a telltale bit of plaster fell, and broke as it struck the floor. 

Morrison looked up, starting as he saw the outlines of the closelyfitting scuttle, for the loft was so low and shallow that he had notsuspected its presence from an outside view; but now he was certain ofthe fugitive's hiding-place. Virgie watched him, trembling, growing hotin the pit of her little stomach; yet, when he faced her, she looked himsquarely in the eye, fighting one last battle for her daddy--as hopelessas 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 areother ways. " He glanced at the table, measuring its height with thepitch of the ceiling, then turned to her again: "Is your father in thatloft?" 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, speakingsternly: "Do you hear me? _Look_ at me!"

She tried; but her courage was oozing fast. She had done her best, butnow it was more than the mite could stand; so she bit her lip to stopits quivering, and turned her head away. For a moment the man stood, silent, wondering if it was possible that the child had been coached ina 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'ttell you stories'. Only jus' a _little_ one--for Daddy--an' Gen'ralLee. "

She was sobbing now, and the man looked down upon her in genuinecompassion, his own eyes swimming at her childish grief, his soldierheart athrob and aching at the duty he must perform. 

"I'm sorry, dear, " he sighed, removing her doll and dragging the tableacross 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 thetable and prepared to mount, then Virgie understood. 

"You shan't! You shan't!" she cried out shrilly. "He's my daddy--and youshan't. "

She pulled at the table, and when he would have put her aside, as gentlyas he could, she attacked him fiercely, in a childish storm of passion, sobbing, striking at him with her puny fists. The soldier bowed his headand 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 asthey hunted for a fellow man; listening to the sounds that floatedacross the stricken fields--the calls of his troopers; the locusts inthe sun-parched woods chanting their shrill, harsh litany of drought;but more insistent still came the muffled boom of the big black guns fardown the muddy James. They called to him, these guns, in thehoarse-tongued majesty of war, bidding him forget himself, his love, hispity--all else, but the grim command to a marching host--a host thatmust reach its goal, though it marched on a road of human hearts. 

The soldier set his teeth and turned to the little rebel, deciding onhis course of action; best for her, best for the man who lay in theloft 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 screamedin terror, fighting to break his hold, while the trap above them opened, and the head and shoulders of the Southerner appeared, his pistol heldin his outstretched hand. 

"Drop it, you hound!" he ordered fiercely. "Drop it!"

The Northerner released his captive, but stood unmoved as he looked intothe 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 tobring you out. " He paused, then spoke again: "And you needn't botherabout your gun. If you'd had any ammunition, our fire would have beenreturned, back yonder in the woods. The game's up, Cary. Come down!"

CHAPTER VI

The head and shoulders disappeared. A short pause followed, then theladder came slowly down, and the Southerner descended, while Virgiecrouched, a sobbing little heap, beside her doll. But when he reachedthe bottom rung, she rose to her feet and ran to meet him, weepingbitterly. 

"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 abouther and tried to soothe a sorrow too great for such a tiny heart tobear. 

"But you did do it right, " he told her. "It was my fault. Mine! My leggot cramped, and I had to move. " He stooped and kissed her. "It was _my_fault, honey; but you?--you did it _splendidly_!" He patted hertear-stained cheek, then turned to his captor, with a grim, hard smileof resignation to his fate. 

"Well, Colonel, you've had a long chase of it; but you've gotten mybrush at last. "

The Union soldier faced him, speaking earnestly:

"Captain Cary, you're a brave man--and one of the best scouts in theConfederate army. I regret this happening--more than I can say. " TheSoutherner shrugged his shoulders. His Northern captor asked: "Are youcarrying 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; andthe answer, though spoken in an undertone, held a world of quietmeaning:

"You can take it--_afterwards_. "

The Federal officer bit his lip; and yet he could not, would not, bedenied. His request became demand, backed by authority and the right ofmight, 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 fromhis boot leg, and handed it over without a word. The Northerner read itcarefully. 

 "_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 tohis side, then he raised his head and asked, in a voice which wasstrangely 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 captorswallowed hard as he moved to the cabin door and stood listening to themuttered rumble of the river guns. 

"I'm sorry, Cary, " he whispered brokenly; "more sorry than you canunderstand. "

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. " Shelooked 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 towardthe Union officer, turned, and obeyed in silence, closing the door ofthe adjoining room behind her. Then the two men faced each other, without the hampering presence of the child, each conscious of thecoming tragedy that both, till now, had striven manfully to hide. Theone moved forward toward a seat, staggering as he walked, and catchinghimself on the table's edge, while the other's hand went out to lend himaid; 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 wastrembling; not in passion, but with a deeper, finer something which hadgripped 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 mighthave had to shoot you--before her eyes. " Cary made no answer, though nowhe understood; and Morrison went on: "It isn't easy for me to track afellow creature down; to take him when he's wounded, practicallyunarmed, and turn him over to a firing squad. But it's war, myfriend--one of the merciless realities of war--and you ought to know themeaning of its name. "

"Yes, I know, " returned the Southerner, with all the pent-up bitternessof a hopeless struggle and defeat; "it has taken three years to teachme--_and I know_! Look at me!" he cried, as he stood up in his rags andspread 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 endlessmen, and now you are warring with the women and the children!" He turnedhis 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 wrathand answered the accusation quietly:

"There are two sides to the question, Cary; _but there must be oneflag_!"

"Then fly your flag in justice!" the Southerner retorted hotly, wheelingon his enemy, with blazing eyes and with hands that shook in the stressof 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 hundreddollars--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, soundnigger! By Heaven, it makes me proud!"

Lieutenant-Colonel Morrison looked across the table at his prisoner, andanswered gravely, yet with a touch of sternness in his military tone:

"You are more than a scout, Cary. You've carried dispatches, andintercepted ours; for both of which, if taken, you would have been aprisoner of war, no more. But you've entered our lines--not in a uniformof gray, _but blue_--and you've cost us the loss of two importantbattles. "

"And had you done the same, " returned the Southerner, "for you it wouldhave meant promotion. I've served my cause as best I could; in thesaddle 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 payit without a sigh. " He paused and sank into his seat. "For myself, Idon't care much. I'm worn out, anyway; and I only wanted to get mylittle girl to Richmond. " At the thought of Virgie his anger returned tohim, 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 youare fighting now--not me--yes, just as if you rode her down with a troopof horse! A fine thing, Colonel! For you, a brevet! For me, a firingsquad! Well, call in your men and get it over!" Again he smiled; a grim, slow smile of bitterness and scorn. "Bravo, Colonel Morrison! Bravo! Youadd one other glory to your conquering sword--and, besides, you'llreceive five hundred dollars in reward!"

The Northerner turned upon him fiercely, goaded at last to thebreaking-point in a struggle as black and awful as the struggle of hisbrother-foe. 

"Stop it, man!" he cried. "I order you to stop! It's duty!--not amiserable reward!" His cheeks were flaming; his muscles quivered, andhis fists were clenched. "Do you actually suppose, " he asked, "that I'mproud of this? Do you think I'm wringing blood out of your heart andmine--for money?"

They faced each other, two crouching, snarling animals, the raw, primeval passions of their hearts released, each seeing through a mistof red; a mist that had risen up to roll across a mighty land and plungeits noblest sons into a bloody ruck of war. 

They faced each other, silently; then slowly the features of theSoutherner relaxed. His bitterness was laid aside. He spoke, in thesoft, slow accent of his people--an accent so impossible to a trick ofprint or pen. 

"I'm glad you feel that way; and maybe, after all, you're doing what youthink is right. Yes--and I know it's hard. " He stopped, then stepped alittle nearer, timidly, as Virgie might have done. "Colonel, " he said, scarce audibly, "I ask you just one thing; not for myself, but forher--for Virgie. Get the poor little tad through your lines, willyou?--and--and don't let her know--about _me_. "

His captor did not answer him in words, because of the pain that tookhim by the throat; but his hand went out, till it reached another handthat gripped it gratefully. 

"Thank you, Morrison, " said the prisoner simply. "If it wasn't wartimes--"

He choked, and said no more; yet silence proved more eloquent than humanspeech. They were men--brave men--and both were grateful; the one, because an enemy would keep his unspoken word; the other, because adoomed man understood. 

Cary opened the door of his daughter's room and called to her. She camein quickly, a question in her big brown eyes. 

"Daddy, " she said, "you talked a mighty long time. It was a heap morethan jus' a minute. "

"Was it?" he asked, and forced a smile. "Well, you see, we had a lot tosay. " He seated himself and, drawing her between his knees, took bothher hands. "Now listen, honey; I'm going away with this gentleman, and--" He stopped as she looked up doubtfully; then added a dash ofgayety to his tender tone: "Oh, but he _invited_ me. And think! He'scoming back for _you_--to-day--to send you up to Richmond. Now, isn'tthat just fine?"

Virgie looked slowly from her father to the Union soldier, who stoodwith 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 thebaby he must leave behind; "yes--he's mighty good!"

He knelt and folded her in his arms, kissing her, over and over, whilehis hand went fluttering about her soft brown throat; then he wrenchedhimself away, but stood for a lingering instant more, his handsoutstretched, atremble for a last and lingering touch, his heart aracing protest at the parting he must speak. 

"Cary!"

It was Morrison who spoke, in mercy for the man; and once more Caryunderstood. He turned to cross the broken door; to face a firing squadin the hot, brown woods; to cross the gulf which stretched beyond therumble of the guns and the snarling lip of war. But even as he turned, ababy's voice called out, in cheerful parting, which he himself hadfailed 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, hecould 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 talkedwith you. " He pointed to the scuttle in the ceiling. "Would you mind ifI 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, thendisappeared, 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 hisconfidingly. 

"Mr. Yankee, " she asked, and looked up into his face, "are you goin' tolet Daddy come to Richmon', too?"

Morrison withdrew his hand from hers--withdrew it sharply--flung himselfinto a seat beside the table, and began to scribble on the back ofVirgie's rumpled pass; while the child stood watching, trusting, withthe simple trust of her little mother-heart. 

In a moment or two, the troopers came hurrying in, with Corporal Dudleyin the lead. He stood at attention, saluted his superior, and made hisreport of failure in the search. 

"Nothing sir. No tracks around the spring, and no traces of the fellowanywhere; but--" He stopped. His keen eyes marked the changed positionof the table and followed upward. He saw the outlines of the scuttleabove his head, and smiled. "But I'm glad to see that you've had betterluck yourself. "

"Yes, Corporal, " said Morrison, with a sharp return of his militarytone, "I think I've found the fox's hole at last. " He rose and gave hisorders briskly. "Push that table forward!--there!--below the trap! Twoof you get on it!" He turned to the Corporal, while he himself climbedup 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 andshoulders through the opening. From below they could see him as he wavedthe lighted candle to and fro, and presently they heard his voice, thatsounded 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 histroopers with a smile, half-humorous, half in seeming disappointment, ashe 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 thetroopers slowly looked from her into the level eyes of their commandingofficer. He stood before them, straight and tall, a soldier, every inchof him; and they knew that Lieutenant-Colonel Morrison was lying like agentleman. They knew that their chief was staking the name and title ofan honorable soldier against the higher, grander title of "a man. "

Only Corporal Dudley stood disconcerted at the startling statement, butas there was no help for it he could only strangle an oath and give theorder to pass out. 

"_'Tention! Right face! Forward! March!_"

They mounted and rode a rod or two away, awaiting orders; while Morrisonstood silently and watched them go. He, too--like Virgie--had wrestledwith a problem, and it stirred him to the depths. As a trooper mustobey, so also must an officer obey a higher will; yes, even as a slavein iron manacles. The master of war had made his laws; and a servantbroke them, knowingly. A captured scout was a prisoner, no more; a spymust hang, or fall before the volley of a firing squad. No matter forhis bravery; no matter for the faithful service to his cause, the manmust die! The glory was for another; for one who waved a flag on thespine of a bloody trench; a trench which his brothers stormed--and gavethe blood. No matter that a spy had made this triumph possible. He hadworn a uniform which was not his own--and the dog must die!

So ruled the god of warfare; still, did war prescribe disgrace and deathfor all? If Cary had crept through the Union lines, to reach the side ofa helpless little one--_yes, even in a coat of blue_--would the GreatTribunal count his deed accursed? Should fearless human love reap noreward beyond the crashing epitaph of a firing squad, and the powdersmoke 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 rumpledpaper and turned to the littlest factor in the great Rebellion. 

"Here, Virgie! Here's your pass to Richmond--for you and yourescort--through the Federal lines. "

She came to him slowly, wondering; her tiny body quivering withsuppressed 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'mterribly 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 theirberry-stained fingers, clung tightly about his neck. 

"Wait! Wait!" she cried. "Here's another one--for Gertrude! Tell herit's from Virgie! An' tell her I sent it, 'cause her daddy is jus' thebest damn Yankee that ever was!"

The trap above had opened, and the head and shoulders of the Southernerappeared; while Morrison looked up and spoke in parting:

"It's all right, Cary. I only ask a soldier's pledge that you take yourlittle 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; andMorrison knew that Herbert Cary would pass through the very center ofthe Federal lines, as a _father_, not a spy. 

The Southerner tried to speak his gratitude, but the words refused tocome; so he stretched one trembling hand toward his enemy of war, andeased 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. Theywatched a lonely swallow as it dipped across the desolate, unfurrowedfield. They listened to the distant beat of many hoofs on the river roadand the far, faint clink of sabers on the riders' thighs; and when thesounds were lost to the listeners at last, the notes of a bugle camewhispering back to them, floating, dipping, even as the swallow dippedacross the unfurrowed fields. 

But still the two stood lingering in the doorway, hand in hand. Themuddy James took up his murmuring song again; the locusts chanted in thehot, brown woods to the basso growl of the big, black guns far down theriver. 

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 beover!"

And so the guns growled on, slow, sullen, thundering forth thebattle-call of a still unconquered enmity; but only that peace mightwalk "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 oldTurnpike leads up over the rolling hills to Richmond the sun was pouringdown a flood of heat. The 'pike was ankle deep with dust and the fine, white powder, churned into floury softness by artillery and the myriadiron heels of war, had settled down on roadside bush and tree and vinetill all the sweet green of summer hung its head under the hot weightand longed for a cooling shower which would wash it clean. 

In fairer times the Pike had been an active thoroughfare for theplantations and hundreds of smaller truck farms which fed the capitol, but of late months nearly all this traffic had disappeared. For the daysof the Confederacy were drawing slowly but none the less surely to aclose. 

Inside the breastworks and far flung fortifications which encompassedRichmond 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 souththe Army of the Potomac under Grant beleaguered the city while thetireless Sheridan, with that lately developed arm of the Federals, thecavalry, raided right and left and struck hard blows at the crumblingcause where they were least expected. Yet in this same dark hour therehad been a ray of light. Once the Confederacy had come withinhairbreadth of overwhelming success, for Early's hard riding troopershad made a dash for Washington but a few weeks before and, with theprize almost in their grasp, had only been turned back by a great forcewhich the grim, watchful Grant suddenly threw in between their guns andthe gleaming dome of the nation's capitol. 

But even this small success was not for long for when Early, crossingover into the luscious valley of the Shenandoah, began to scourge itwith his hosts and threaten a raid into Pennsylvania, Sheridan brokeloose from the restriction of telegraph wires and followed him to thedeath and finally broke the back of the great raid with his mad gallopfrom Winchester. 

Meanwhile around Richmond, Lee and Grant, a circle within a circle, wereconstantly feeling each other out, shifting their troops from point topoint in attack and defense, --for all the world like two fighting dogshunting for an opening in the fence. And all the time the grim, quietman in blue kept contracting his lines around the wonderful tactician ingray until the whole world came to know that unless Lee could breakthrough the gap to the southwest the end of the war was plainly insight. 

And so it happened that on this hot July day the only sign of life onthe 'pike was a small cloud of dust which drifted lazily in the wake oftwo people who passed along the road on foot. 

One of the two was a tired, gaunt man in a ragged uniform of gray whostared 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 tatteredgingham dress who limped painfully along beside the man, her sunny hairin 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 heplodded on again, a prey to weariness and hunger. The turning point inHerbert Cary's life had come. Thanks to a generous enemy; Virgie and hewere now reasonably sure of food if once they could reach theConfederate lines but as for himself, with the woman he had loved asleepforever beneath the pines, the future could only be an unending, barrenstretch of gray. 

Then, almost as quickly, recollection of his duty towards her whom hecarried in his arms came to him and he raged at himself for his momentof selfish discouragement. Spurred on by the necessity of gaining apoint of safety for his child he began to calculate the distance yet tobe covered and their chances of gaining friendly lines beforeencountering scouting parties of Federals. Behind him, a few miles southon the other bank of the James at Light House Point Sheridan was in campwith two brigades and Cary knew this fast riding, hard strikingcavalryman too well not to suspect that the country, even in front ofhim, was alive with Union men. There was the pass which Morrison hadgiven him, of course, but the worth of a pass in war time often dependsmore on him who receives it than on the signature. 

But all those things, even food, would have to wait for a while becausehe was consumed with thirst and must find water before he went anothermile forward. 

A tired sigh from Virgie caught his ear and he stopped by a stone walland 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 upand nursed it against her dusty, brown leg, meanwhile clutching her dollcloser to her neck. 

"It's all right, honey; be a brave little girl, " her father saidconsolingly. "There's a spring along here somewhere and we can lookafter that poor little foot. Ah, there it is, " he cried, as he caughtsight of a big rock behind a stone wall with a seepage of water under itamong some trees at one side. "Just sit still a minute--till I rest--andthen we'll have a look. " He leaned back against the wall and closed hiseyes to shut out the dizziness with which exhaustion and hunger filledhis aching head. 

The child watched him anxiously for a moment and then put a soft littlehand on his shoulder:

"Are you _so_ tired, Daddy-man?"

"Yes, dear, " he answered with a faint smile as he opened his eyes. "Ihad to catch my breath, but I'm really all right. Now then, we'll callin the hospital corps. "

Virgie slipped down and sat on the top of the wall with her foot in herhand, rocking to and fro, but bravely saying nothing until her father'seye 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 smallvoice. "It keeps jumping up and down. "

"Little woman, that's too bad, " he said with a consoling pat on the headwhich seemed to take most of the pain away. "But after we bathe it andtie it up it will feel better. "

Kneeling beside the spring he took off his campaign hat of felt anddipped it full of clear, cold water. 

"Wow!" cried Virgie suddenly in the interval and she slapped her legwith 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 littlefellows and if you don't complain any more than that you're going to bea 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--andthe _best_. " He wavered a little on his feet and the hat threatened toslip through his fingers, but his daughter's great, dark eyes weresteady on his and, curiously enough, he seemed to draw strength to pullhimself together. 

"And now, let's see. We'll have to get the grime off first. Just dip thelittle 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 curiousbasin. "Big toe first. 

"Yes, I know it's cold, " he laughed as the water stung the broken skinand made her twitch involuntarily, "but bathing will do it good. I justknow it feels better already--doesn't it?"

"Yes, sir, " answered Virgie meekly, "only--it jumps up and down harderthan 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!" hemurmured. "You poor little soldier. If I hadn't looked around that timeI expect you'd been willing to walk all the way to Richmond on a footthat would make a whole regiment straggle. Just see where you've cutit--right under the second little piggie. We'll have to tie it right upand keep the bothersome old dust from getting in. By morning you'llhardly feel it. "

With a soldier's readiness he opened his coat and began to tear a stripfrom his shirt from which to make a bandage. But his small daughterinterrupted him with a vigorous protest. 

"Wait!" she cried, with a face full of alarm at the willful destructionof his garment. "Don't do that. Here! You can take it off my petticoat. "

"_That_ petticoat, " her father laughed, with the first real mirth shehad heard for many weeks. "That poor little petticoat wouldn't make anarm bandage for Susan Jemima. Now--up with your hoofie and let's playI'm a surgeon and you're a brave soldier who has fought in every battlesince we first made the Yanks skedaddle at Bull Run. "

With the painful foot securely bandaged the little girl gave herself upto thought, emerging from her study at last to ask what was anall-important question. 

"Daddy--"

"Yes?"

"Do you reckon, by the time the war is over, we could call Susan Jemimaa vet'ran?"

"I should say we could, " the father agreed heartily, without the symptomof a smile. "Hasn't she grown bald in the service? And hasn't she almostlost an arm--or is it a leg I see dangling so terribly? I'll tell youwhat 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. Doyou hear that, Cap'n Susan, " she crooned to the doll, unconscious of theconvulsion of silent amusement beside her. "When we get to Richmon'--ifwe 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 seemedvery long. 

"How far _is_ it to Richmon', Daddy-man?" she said. 

"Just about twelve miles, " her father answered. "But they're real oldcountry 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 hegive for an hour of Roger once more--or Belle--or Lightfoot!Anything--even one of the old plantation mules would do if he could onlyperch her up on its back and take her into Richmond like a lady and notlike the daughter of poor white trash, tramping, poverty stricken, alonga dusty road. 

"No, dear, not to-night, " he sighed. "We've come a long way and we'reboth 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 themorning, when the old sun comes sneaking up through the trees, we'llfool him! We won't wait till he can make it hot, but we'll get right upwith the birds and the squirrels and we'll just run right along. And bytwelve 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 brightenedat the thought of _any_ kind of supper, made out of belts or any otherthing. 

"Um-hum, " asseverated her father gravely. "See--this is the way it'sdone. "

He cupped his hands and took a draught from the spring, pretending tochew it as it went down. "You take a big drink of nice cold water; thendraw 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 todo it all the time while you were away. "

"What did you do?" he asked curiously, for he had forgotten that morethan half the childish play world is the world of "make believe. '"

"Why, we--we just '_let on_, '" she answered, with simple naïveté. "Sitdown an' I'll show you how. "

He sat down obediently, but not before he had picked up an old tin canfrom nearby and set it carefully between them. 

"This rock is our table--the moss is the table cloth. Oh, it isn'tgreen, " 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 finesttexture, " 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 yourplate 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 youmake 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. 'Causebatter bread isn't good 'thout butter. "

"Thank you--what lovely golden butter. And--goodness gracious! What isthis I see before me? Can this really be a sausage?"

"Yes, sir, " laughed Virgie with delight. "And there's the ham. I smokedit myself over hick'ry wood. Please help yourself. "

She pretended to arrange a cup and saucer in front of her and helddaintily 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 theefficiency of her ménage. 

"I'm afraid you won't find it very hot, " said this surprising younghostess. "That butler of mine is growing absolutely _wuthless_. "

"Then perhaps we can have something better, " her guest respondedreadily, and he picked up the battered old tin can. "Permit me, MissCary, to offer you a glass of fine old blackberry wine which I carefullybrought with me to your beautiful home. It has been in my family winecellars since 1838. 

"Well--" he cried, as Virgie suddenly sat back with a look of painfulrecollection 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 smallface 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 withgreat severity to an imaginary waiter. 

"Here, _Jo_! How dare you bring such terribly reminiscent stuff to ourtable. Go get the port. 

"We'll surely have to discharge that butler, " he said. "He's tooshiftless. And now, fair lady, will you honor me by joining the humblestof your admirers in a sip of port. "

"With pleasure, " answered his hostess, and lifted the can of water inboth 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. Voiceshad come to them from down the road--the sounds of a party of mentalking and laughing as they marched along. 

Cary's face took on again the grim lines which had been wiped awaymomentarily by their little bit of play. He was trying to make himselfbelieve that the approaching party might be friends, although he knewonly too well that such a possibility was full of doubt. There were toomany scouting parties of Federals ready to pounce on Rebel patrols inthese perilous days to allow any but large forces of men to venture farfrom Richmond, and when his own men sallied forth they did not go withlaughter but with tightly drawn, silent lips. 

"S-s-s-h, " he whispered, and held up his finger again, as she seemedready 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 thetrees where they had had their "belt supper" he drew her with him behindthe large ledge of rock from under which the spring flowed out. Lookingbehind them he saw that with good luck they could reach the shelter ofthe woods and get up over the hill without being seen. But just now theycould not stir from their hiding place unless--unless the men wereConfederates. This faint hope, however, soon flickered out when he sawthe color of their uniforms. 

Up the road came four dismounted men with a corporal in command. Theywere taking it easy as they walked along, their caps thrust back, theircoats open and their Sharps' carbines carried in the variety of waysthat a soldier adopts to ease his shoulder of the burden that growsheavier with every mile. 

"Here's the place, boys, " the Corporal called out as his eye fell on thespring. "We can get some decent water, now. That James River water's tooyellow for any white man to put inside of him. "

At the sound of a voice which he had heard that same morning while hehid in the attic of the overseer's cabin Cary's hold on his daughter'shand 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 restof the world could not trust so faithfully to human kindness. "Butthat's for emergency. Come along, honey--quick!"

Silently as a shadow the two stole out of the shelter of the ledge ofrock, and by dint of keeping it between them and the troopers, managedto cover most of the open space between the spring and the protectingtrees without being seen. Meanwhile, they heard the Corporal giving hiscommands. 

"You, Collins, take sentry duty out there in the road for a while. Assoon as we make the coffee we'll bring you out a cup. Now--over the wallwith you, men. "

Leaving one man behind to pace slowly up and down the dusty road thefour sprang over the wall and advanced towards the spring. It was wellthe sight of the cool water held their eyes for if they had only lookedup they might have seen Virgie wresting her hand out of her father'sgrasp and standing suddenly petrified with the thought that she had leftbehind 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 thetroopers promptly collected the canteens and knelt down by the spring, carefully submerging one at a time so as to get the sweet, cold water inall its purity. Another opened the knapsacks and took out a can ofcoffee, biscuits and some scraps of meat--not much with which to make ameal but still so much more than many a Rebel soldier had that day as totake on the proportions of a feast. Meanwhile, Corporal Dudley had drawnhis saber and was engaged in leisurely lopping off the dead branches ofa fallen tree. 

"This strikes me a lot better than the camp, " he remarked as he tossedhis firewood into a heap. "A man and his friends can have a quiet drinkhere, 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 whichlay there and held it transfixed on the point. 

"Say, boys--look at this, " and he shook poor Susan Jemima till her armsand legs wiggled spasmodically and her dress seemed on the point ofcomplete disintegration. 

Perhaps, if Corporal Dudley had not laughed derisively Virgie might havestayed hidden in the protection of the trees, but this outrageousinsult combined with the terrible sight of poor Susan Jemima impaled ona Yankee sword was too much for her bursting heart. With blazing eyesshe broke away from her father and dashed back to the group at thespring. 

"Here, you! You stop that, " she cried angrily at the astonishedtroopers, who caught up their carbines at the sound of feet. "_How dareyou!_"

There was a moment of surprise and then the four broke out in guffaws oflaughter. 

"Well, hang me if it isn't the little girl we saw this morning, " shoutedDudley, without, however, stopping the torture of the defenseless SusanJemima. "Where did _you_ drop from?"

"Ne'm min' where I dropped from, " commanded the wrathful Virgie with herdark eyes like twin stars of hate. "You're the meanest old thing I eversaw. _Give me back my baby!_"

Back in the trees a little way a man was watching with a heavy heart. Heknew only too well what was to come. No matter what the final outcomemight be when he showed his safe-guard to his own army's lines therewould be a delay and searching questions and more of the old insultswhich always made his blood boil--which always made the increasingburden of despair still harder to bear. But there was no use in puttingoff the trial--Virgie had slipped away in spite of every whisperedremonstrance and now that she was there in the center of that group ofguffawing Yankees, there, too, was the only place for him. And so, hestepped out swiftly and faced the enemy. 

"Hah!" shouted Dudley, looking up at the sound of branches cracklingunderfoot. "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 tattereduniform. 

"Well, sir, " he asked, "who are you?"

"A Confederate officer, " was the quiet reply, "acting as escort for thischild. We are on our way to Richmond. "

Cary's hand went into the breast of his coat and he drew out a foldedpaper. 

"Here is my authority for entering your lines--a pass signed byLieutenant-Colonel Morrison. "

At the sound of the name Corporal Dudley started and quickly took thepaper. But before he opened it he gave Cary a keen look which, to theConfederate officer, did not bode well for the prospect of immediaterelease. It seemed as if the man's sharp wits had suddenly seized onsomething which he could profitably turn to his own account. 

With his back turned on Cary and Virgie the Corporal unfolded the passand studied it carefully, while the troopers gathered behind him andtried to read its contents over his shoulder. 

"Pwhat does it say?" asked the young Irishman, Harry O'Connell, who hadcovered Cary with his carbine. "'Tis a precious bit of paper, bedad--ifit passes him through _me_. "

"It says: 'Pass Virginia Cary and escort through all Federal lines, andassist them as far as possible in reaching Richmond, '" read theCorporal. 

Deep in thought he turned the paper over and studied the name on theback. At the sight of the signature there his mouth fell open and heuttered a shout of surprise. His eyes brightened and he stepped backfrom the group and threw up his head with a look of triumph on his darkface. 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 shortweeks before and then had seen him shot through the heart by this sameofficer whose name was on the pass looked at the questioner with an uglyglitter in his eyes. He was beginning to taste already the sweets ofrevenge. 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 isthe man that was hiding in the cabin loft this morning. Morrison liedwhen he said he wasn't there--you remember, he was the only one wholooked--he lied and as soon as he got us out of the way he let him comedown and he gave him _this_. Could any man ask for better proof that wehad the spy right in our hands and then our commanding officerdeliberately let him go?"

At the sound of the man's excited whispering Cary's fears as to thevalue of Virgie's pass grew too strong to warrant this agony of watchingand waiting, and he stepped forward with a sharp question:

"Well, Corporal, isn't the pass satisfactory?"

"Oh, perfectly--perfectly, " Dudley answered with baleful readiness, butmade no move to return it. 

Cary put out his hand. "Then I would like to have it again, if youplease. "

By way of answer Corporal Dudley carefully found an inside pocket andbuttoned the pass up in his coat. "Oh, no, you don't, " he said, with anevil 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 brutalanswer. 

"For what?" asked Cary, while his heart grew sick inside him and hislips twitched. Richmond--and food for Virgie were growing farther awayevery 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 forwardstep at the Corporal. "I guess you know what's good for you, with threeguns at your back. If Colonel Morrison wouldn't take you as a spy, _Iwill!_"

"Here, boys, " he said in brusque command to his men, "we'll have to cutthe supper and take this man to camp. There'll be a sunrise hangingto-morrow or I miss my guess. Come on, now. Bring him along. "

"Wait a minute, Corporal, " O'Connell said. "Sure I've something to sayto ye, " and he led him aside where the others could not bear. 

All unconscious of the fatal predicament into which Susan Jemima andshe had got them Virgie looked up at her father from where she stood inthe shelter of his arm. 

"Daddy, " she questioned, in a small, puzzled voice, "what are they goingto 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 caughtenough of the Corporal's altercation with Trooper O'Connell to make himsee that things were very far from being what he wanted Virgie tosuppose. 

"Ye'd better be careful now, " O'Connell said to Dudley. "Ye know wellthat 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 grimtriumph. "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'mgoing to make him sweat--sweat blood. "

"Don't be a fool, Corporal, " the trooper counseled. "What'll ye be afterdoin'?"

"_Report him, at headquarters_--for helping a spy escape! If I have theman and _this_, " and he slapped the paper, "it'll mean his sword andshoulder straps--if not a bullet! Come on!"

He turned away, to scramble over the wall, but Trooper O'Connell caughthis arm. 

"Hold on! Ye may get in trouble. "

In answer Dudley broke away and doggedly kept on towards the stone walland the road. "Keep off, " he snarled. "_I'm_ running this. "

"I know ye are, " the trooper replied, "but wait, " and he pointed to therear. "Don't forgit that the Colonel's out yonder reconnoiterin'. If hehappened to overtake ye on the road--"

Struck with the sudden thought Dudley paused. "Well, that's so, " hegrowled as he saw how easily he could be held for disobeying orders andhow quickly all his plans for vengeance could be smashed. He stood stillfor a moment gnawing his lip, then suddenly struck his doubled fist intothe palm of the other hand. 

"Then you stay here to guard the prisoner, " he said. "I'll cut throughthe 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 intothe 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 Harrywarning. Now, boys--come along with me--we'll take it on the trot, " andclimbing quickly over the wall the man who held two lives in the hollowof his hand ran down the road with the two troopers, finally cuttingover into the woods and disappearing from view. 

Gary and Virgie stood still by the spring. Out in the road the sentrypaced back and forth. Behind them Trooper O'Connell stood on guard, hiscarbine 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 theYankee camp?"

"I'm afraid so, darling, but I don't know, " he answered sadly. "We'lljust have to wait. Wait, " he repeated, as he sat down on a rock and drewher close to him. Without being seen either by Virgie or O'Connell hepicked up a jagged stone the size of his fist and hid it under his kneeagainst the rock. It would be a poor weapon at best, but Cary had growndesperate and if the trooper once turned his back and gave himopportunity poor Harry O'Connell would wake up with a very bad headacheand Virgie would be in Richmond. 

But Virgie's eyes were on neither the hidden stone nor her father'swatchful, relentless face. All that Virgie could see was a knapsack openon the ground and food--real food displayed round about with aprodigality which made her mouth water and her eyes as big as saucers. 

"Daddy, " she murmured, clutching at his sleeve, "while we are waitin' doyou reckon we could take just a _little_ bit of that?"

"No, dear--not now, " her father answered, with a touch of impatience. Itwould be too much, even in those bitter times, to accept a man's foodand then break his head for it. 

"Well, " said Virgie, completely mystified at the restraint, "I don't seewhy they shouldn't be polite to us. We were just as polite as could bewhen the Yankees took our corn. "

Just then the young Irishman with the carbine turned around and caughtthe wan look on Virgie's face and the hunger appeal in her big darkeyes. At once a broad smile broke over his freckled countenance and hegestured 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 showmy gratitude to you in any substantial way at present--but God blessyou, just the same. " He dropped down on the rock again and hid his facein his hands. Another moment and the kindhearted trooper might have beenlying face downwards in the muddy ground around the spring. It had beenonly 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, notyet, " he grinned. 

"There ye are, little girl, " he went on, pushing the knapsack overtowards 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 andexplored its interior with eager hands. 

"I'm much obliged, Mr. Yankee. We cert'ny do need it--bad. " She tossedthe tangled hair back from her eyes and looked thankfully up at thiscurious person who had so much food that he could really give part of itaway. "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 searchinghands found something wonderful in the knapsack and she sprang up andran 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 wouldnot have allowed him to eat soup, let alone a rather hard biscuit, buthe looked up with a laugh and waved a genial salute to the trooper, whoas genially responded. 

Virgie, however, had become quite single minded since she had discoveredfood, and with a happy sigh she raised the biscuit to her lips. Justthen the sentry in the road flung up his hand with a shout. 

"Look out, O'Connell! They're coming, " and he clambered quickly over thewall 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 themto stay where they were, raised his head cautiously over the wall. 

"Morrison's, " he answered, after a quick look, and he dropped down againout 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 wouldrun out on the road. But her father caught her, for O'Connell had turnedto them with a serious face. 

"I'm sorry, sir, but I'll have to trouble ye to get under cover in thewoods. No argymint, sir, " he said decisively, as he saw some show ofresistance on Cary's part. "I'm under orders. "

"Yes, yes, I know, " Cary cried, impatiently, "but I want to speak toColonel Morrison. I _must_ speak to him. Give me a moment, man. Youwon't ever regret it. "

"Come now--none o' that, " commanded the trooper, pushing him back withthe carbine across his breast. "Don't make me use force, sir. Ye'll haveto go--so go quietly. And mind--no shenanigan!"

Cary stood his ground for a moment, meeting the trooper eye to eye--thenturned 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 Morrisonafter all. "

But Virgie, being a woman, had her own ideas about what she would orwould not do. At the same moment that the trooper was forcing her fatherstep by step back into the woods, Virgie was running madly towards thestone wall and before either of the soldiers could stop her she hadclambered up on its broad top and was calling out to a man who clatteredby 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 sounexpected a place the officer at the head of the troop threw up hisgauntleted hand and brought the detachment to a standstill in a cloud ofdust. 

"Hello, there, " he said, turning curiously around in his saddle. "Who isit 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, spurredvigorously up to the wall where he dismounted and came up to take acloser 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 inwhen, suddenly, his eye fell on O'Connell, standing at attention on theother side of the wall. 

"O'Connell, " he said, sternly, "what is the meaning of this? Why aren'tyou with your detachment?"

"It isn't _his_ fault, " Virgie interposed in stout defense of the niceYankee who carried biscuits in his knapsack. "He's under orders. "

The glib use of the military term made a smile flicker across Morrison'sface, 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 nodsof recognition. 

"Let me explain, " the Confederate said. "Virgie and I were making forRichmond as rapidly as we could. Here, by this spring, we were put underarrest by a corporal and four troopers. Naturally, I presented yourpass, but the corporal refused to honor it. He then left me under guardand hurried off to headquarters with the pass in his possession. "

At this unwelcome news Morrison's head jerked back as if he had beenstruck and his lips tightened. Without the addition of another word toCary's story he saw all the dire consequences to himself of what hadbeen an act of the commonest humanity. Yes, in other times it would havebeen what any right thinking human being would have done for another indistress, but, unhappily, this was war time and the best of motives wereonly 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, layingthe proof of this act before his superiors with an abundance ofcollateral evidence which, he knew, would condemn him before anymilitary tribunal in the world. It mattered not what kindly impulses hadguided his hand when he wrote the safeguard on the other side of thepaper on which Robert E. Lee had previously placed his name, for it isnot the custom of courts martial to weigh the milk of human kindnessagainst the blood and iron of war. The good and the safety of thegreater number demand the sacrifice of every man who would imperil thecause by ill considered generosity. Morrison could see that verypresently he would have to answer certain stern questions. 

Yet, there was a chance still that Dudley might be headed off and thiswhole miserable business stopped before revenge could set the inexorablewheels in motion and he whirled round on O'Connell with a sharpquestion:

"Which way did Dudley go?"

"Down the pike, then over the hill by the wood road, sor--makin' forheadquarters, " the young Irishman answered, only too glad of a chance tohelp 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 thewood 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 hebellowed out his orders. 

"Jennings! Hewlett! Brown! Hammond! Burt! 'Bout face. Forward!" Almostbefore the words were out of his mouth Harris and his men were ridingmadly down the road in a chase, which the Lieutenant suspected, meantsomething more to his colonel, than merely the recovery of asafe-conduct for a Confederate officer and a little girl. 

Morrison turned to Trooper O'Connell and jerked his thumb towards theroad. 

"Report at my quarters this evening--at nine, " he said curtly. And theyoung Irishman, thankful to be well out of the mess, quickly clamberedover the wall and disappeared though not without a soft voiced farewellfrom Virgie. 

"Good-by, Mr. Knapsack Man, " called the child. "Thank you for thebiscuits. "

Then Cary came forward and gripped the other's hand. 

"Colonel, " he said earnestly, with full appreciation of what was passingthrough Morrison's mind, "I hope no trouble will come of this. If I hadonly known the vindictiveness of this man--"

He was interrupted by a genially objecting hand and a laugh whichMorrison 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 yourpass?"

"Yes, sir. He did, " Virgie answered, and caught his hand in hers. "Heran 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 thetroopers idling in the road and very plainly interested in what thesmall group were doing, "do you really think you'd better--on your ownaccount?"

Again Morrison's hand was raised in polite objection. He had taken asporting chance when he wrote the pass which had been stolen but becausehe had probably lost was no reason why he shouldn't play the game outbravely to the end. So he only smiled at Virgie, who came and sat besidehim, and began to write the few short sentences of his secondsafe-conduct. But while he wrote he was talking in low tones which thetroopers 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 behindyou?"

"_Me?_" pouted Virgie. "Why, Daddy says that when I was bornded, I cameridin' in on a stork. "

Morrison burst out laughing and dropped his hand down on the small pawresting on his knee. 

"Then, by St. George and the Dragon we'll send you home to JeffersonDavis on a snorting Pegasus!"

Again Cary spoke to him in warning tones, which at the same timethanked 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 asyou 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 therehave formed the habit of shooting _first_ and asking questions_afterwards_. There you are, " and he tore the leaf from his note bookand 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 shookwith feeling, "but you see I--I--"

"Then please don't try. Because if you do I'll--I'll have to hold Virgieas a prisoner of war. 

"Well, young one, " he said to the small Miss Cary with a laugh, "did youreally 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 toeat--somethin' _always_ happens!"

"Well, well, that _is_ hard luck, " he said with a gentle squeeze of herfrail body. "But I'll bet you it won't happen this time; not if a wholeregiment tries to stop it. "

"Come on, " he suggested as he sprang to his feet and began picking updry twigs. "You can start in and munch on those heavenly biscuits whilethis 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 themcarefully 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 twigshe had placed between two flat stones. "It's mighty considerate of myboys to leave us all these things. We'll call it the raid of Black GumSpring. 

"And here comes the little lady with the coffee pot filled just right. Now watch me pour in the good old coffee--_real_ coffee, Virgiedear--not made from aco'ns. " He settled the pot on the fire and sat backwith a grin. "Oh, oh! Don't watch it, " he cried, in well feigned alarmas Virgie, unwilling to believe the sight, stooped over to feast hereyes 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 downagainst her father's knee. "I'll just pray for it to hurry up. "

The two men exchanged quiet smiles and Cary murmured something in hisdaughter's ear. 

"Oh, no, I won't, " she answered, and then looked up at Morrison with aroguish light in her dark eyes. "He's only afraid I'll pray so terriblyhard 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? Ofcourse, you understand--in case a snake should bite us. "

"Colonel Morrison, " responded the Southerner, "you are certainly a manof 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 someday I may take _you_ prisoner!"

At the quizzical look of surprise in the other's face Cary's voicealmost broke. 

"I mean, sir, it's the only way I could ever hope to show you how much Iappreciate--"

He stopped and covered his face with his hands, not a little to hisdaughter's alarm. 

"Come, come, old chap, " the Northerner said bluffly, tapping him on theshoulder. "Brace up. It's the fortunes of war, you know. One side or theother is bound to win. Perhaps--who knows--it may be _your_ turnto-morrow. Well, sir--here goes. May it soon be over--in the way that'sbest and wisest for us all. 

"Now, Virgie, " he went on, when the toast had been drunk, "while I washthese cups suppose you go on another voyage of discovery through themagic knapsack for some sugar for the coffee. "

He watched her fling herself impetuously on the knapsack. "If you findany Yankee spoons--put them under arrest. They haven't any pass likeyours. "

Then he turned to Cary: "Have any trouble on the road as you camealong?"

The other man shook his head. 

"None to speak of. We were stopped several times of course, but eachtime your pass let us through without delay--until we met Dudley. Andnow I'm worried, Colonel, " he said frankly, while his eyes tried to tellthe other all that he feared without putting it in words, "worried onyour 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. Iknow 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 themwith anxiously furrowed brow, a paper bag in one hand and three spoonsclutched in the other. 

"But Colonel Morrison, " she was saying in tragic tones, "there isn't adrop of milk. "

"Milk!" he cried in mock despair. "Well, dash my buttons if I didn'tforget to order a cow. "

"Oh, _I_ know what to do, " cried the child. Dropping her supplies andutensils she ran to the wall and climbed up. 

"Hey, there, _you_" commanded the small general with an imperiousgesture to the assembled troopers. "One of you men ride right over tocamp and bring us back some milk--an' butter. "

At this abrupt demand of so small a rebel on the commissary of theUnited States a roar of laughter went up from the troopers, though someof them had the grace to salute and so relieve the child ofembarrassment. 

"Virgie! Virgie!" called her father, scandalized. 

"It's all right, Cary, " Morrison laughed. "She's only starting in atgiving orders a little earlier than most women. 

"Never you mind, Miss Brigadier, " he comforted. "We'll have all thoseluxuries next time, or when I come to see you in Richmond after the waris 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 fillup. This one for your daddy--you can put the sugar in. Only don't burnthose precious fingers. "

Virgie carried the steaming cup to her father and put it in his handswith 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 forMorrison'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 beena long time since she had eaten anything so delicious, although if thosesame biscuits had appeared on the Cary table a month ago they would haveprobably been scorned. But eager as her appetite was it did not stop theactive workings of her mind and she presently was struck by an ideawhich tried to force itself out through a mouthful of biscuit--with theusual 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 smiledtriumphantly. 

"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 twomen 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 outthere would like some of these _heavingly_ things to eat?" she saidplaintively. "It must be terrible--jus' to look on!"

"Well, bless your little heart, " the Northerner cried. "But don't youworry about the boys. They'll have theirs when they get back to camp. Goon and eat, Virgie. Stuff in another biscuit. And, look! By Jupiter. _Butter!_"

Evidently Trooper O'Connell during the past twenty-four hours hadforaged or blarneyed most successfully for out of the knapsack which hehad left behind Morrison suddenly produced a small earthenware jam jarin which was something now indubitably liquid in form but none the lesssweet, yellow, appetizing butter. Pouring a little on a biscuit he heldit out to her, speculating on what she would say. 

The tot took it hungrily and raised it to her lips, her eyes shining andher face glowing with anticipation. Then she paused and, with a littlecry of vexation over her selfishness, held out the biscuit to herfather. 

"Here, Daddy, " she said. "You take this--because you tried to bring mesomethin' good to eat yesterday. "

The father threw a look at Morrison and caught Virgie to him in a swiftembrace. 

"No, dear, " he said. "Eat your nice buttered biscuit and thank the goodLord for it. Your father will get more fun out of seeing you eat thatlittle bit than he would out of owning a whole cellar of big stonecrocks jam full. Do you know--I think when we get up to Richmond you'llhave to write a letter to the Colonel--a nice long letter, thanking himfor 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 hiscoffee cup hanging listlessly over his knee. He was thinking of anotherlittle girl, and one as dear to him as this man's child was to herfather. He was wondering if the fortunes of war would ever let him seeher face again or hear her voice--or feel her chubby arms around hisneck. She was very, very far away--well cared for, it was true, but heknew only too well that it would need but one malignant leaden missileto make her future life as full of hardships as those which the littletot beside him was passing through to-day. So much, at least, for theordinary chances of war--he was beginning to wonder how much had beenadded to these perils by the matter of the pass and whether hissuperiors would see the situation as it had appeared to his eyes. 

Into this sad reverie Virgie's soft voice entered with a gentlenesswhich roused but did not startle him. When she spoke, it seemed as ifsome subtle thought-current between their minds had put the subject ofhis 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 wasdreamy, tender, as he seemed to look with unseeing eyes far into theNorthland where dwelt the people of his heart. 

"Do you know, Cary, this war for us, the men, may be a hell, but what isit for those we leave at home? The women! Who wait--and watch--and toooften watch in vain. _We_ have the excitement of it--the rush--thebattles--and we think that ours is the harder part when, in reality, wemake our loved ones' lives a deeper, blacker hell than our own. Theirsto 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 ofhope! Waiting--always waiting! Hunting the papers for the thing theydread to find; a name among the missing. A name among the dead! GoodHeaven! When I think of it sometimes--" Morrison dropped his headbetween 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 hopewill some day be the bread of life--and love. "

Slowly the Northerner's face came up out of his hands and he seemed totake heart again. After all, he had led a charmed life so far--perhapsthe God of Battles had written his name among those who would some daygo back to live the life for which the Almighty made them. God grantthen that he might have for his friend this man who, in the time of hisown greater grief, was unselfish enough to console him. Ah! If God wouldonly grant that from this day on there would be no more of this hideousfighting. 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 avolley, 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 menstood motionless, listening for every sound which might tell them whatit meant. For a little while they had dreamed the dream of peace only tohave it rudely shattered. 

But Virgie had not followed them in their dreams, for she was anextremely practical young lady. Having seen food, real food, vanishaway before her very eyes several times already she was quite preparedto see it happen again. 

"There!" she said, in tones in which prophecy and resignation were oddlymingled. "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 andwith 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--andthe hornets are coming out. "

"Turner!" he commanded, and a trooper's hand went up, "ride up to thefork of the road. Learn what you can and report. "

As the cavalryman struck his heels into his horse's sides and dashed upthe 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 lookedthoughtfully at Virgie, "but still--"

"What is it?"

"I can't send you forward now--in the face of that fire. And, for thatmatter, I can't send you to the rear. In five minutes this road will beglutted with cavalry and guns. "

"Never mind, Morrison, " the Southerner returned. "I couldn't gonow--anyway. "

"Why?"

Cary opened out his hands in a simple gesture. "Because, in case oftrouble for you at headquarters, I'm _still_ your prisoner. " With hiseyes brave and steady on the others he took the newly written pass fromhis breast--and tore it in pieces. "When you want me, " he said, "you'llfind me--_here_. "

If there had been time for argument Morrison would have hotly protestedagainst such self-sacrifice, but events were crowding upon them toofast. From down the road came the sound of furious galloping. Almost atonce 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 thatCary marveled at his composure, "_Did you get Corporal Dudley?_"

Cary's ears ached for the answer. He knew just as well as the questionerthe danger which might now be disclosed or be forever forgotten and hisheart 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 nailsdug 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 ordersto join Major Foster at the fork and hold the road at any cost. Twolight field pieces are coming to your support. Our main batteries areback there--in the woods. "

"Right, " said Morrison, "we go at once. " Turning back to Virgie hecaught 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 youluck--but our hearts are with you as a man. "

"Thanks, old fellow, " said the enemy, as he sprang over the wall "Ithelps--God knows. "

He caught at his horse's mane and threw himself into the saddle withouttouching 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 behindthe 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 ofsteel tires striking viciously against the stones, the cries and oathsof the drivers urging the horses forward. 

"Look!" cried Cary, springing to his feet in spite of the danger inwhich his gray uniform placed him. "Here come the field pieces. In aminute now the dogs will begin to bark. "

With a roar of wheels and a clash of harness and accouterments the gunsrushed by while the child stared and stared, her big eyes almoststarting 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 theirteeth are _very_ long. Ah! There they go! Over yonder on the hill--inthe edge of the woods. The Yankee dogs are barking. Now listen for theanswer. "

Together they listened, father and daughter, with strainingears--listened for the defiant reply of those men who, being Americans, were never beaten until hunger and superior numbers forced them to thewall. 

"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 caughtthe child closer in his arms. "Hear our people talking, honey? Hear 'emtalk!"

But overhead something was coming through the air and the child shrankdown in terror--something that whined and screamed as it sped on itsdreadful 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 soundmuch worse than they really are. Don't be afraid. Nothing will hurtyou. "

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 streamof living blue, with cavalry madly galloping and sweating infantryhurrying forward as fast as their legs could carry them. 

"Look, Virgie, look!" her father cried, holding her head a little wayabove the wall. "See those bayonets shining back there across the road. A whole regiment of infantry. And they're going up against our _menacross an open field!_ By Jiminy, but those Yanks will get a mustardbath. Ah-hah!" he chortled, as a roar of musketry broke out. "I told youso! Our boys are after them. Good work! Good work!"

But again a shell passed over them and again the world was filled withthat awful whining, shrieking sound. 

"Daddy, " the child cried, with quivering lips, but still dry eyed. "Idon't _like_ those things. I don't _like_'em. "

"There, there, darling, " he comforted as they shrank closer under theprotection of the wall. "Keep down under my arm and they won't botheryou. "

As he spoke a twig with a fresh yellow break in it fell from a tree andstruck his upturned face. He winced at the thought that the bulletmight have flown a few feet lower. And meanwhile the sound of the firingcame steadily closer. 

"By Jove!" he murmured to himself, "it's a bigger rumpus than Ithought. "

This indeed was true. What had at first promised to be only a skirmishbetween the outposts of the two entrenched armies, now developed into ageneral engagement covering a space of half a mile along the line. Areconnoitering force of Federal cavalry had ridden too close to therifle 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 supportof his reconnoitering party, and found himself opposed, not by astraggling line of Rebel pickets, but by a moving wall of tattered gray, the units of which advanced on a low-bent run, crouching behind somebush or stone, to fire, reload and advance again. 

An aide raced back to the Union lines to ask for help in support ofFoster's slender force of cavalry; and thus the order came to Morrisonto join the detachment and hold the enemy until reinforcements could beformed 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 theUnion horsemen seemed an evil one. True, that infantry and guns weresoon advancing to their aid on a "double-quick"; yet all the advantageseemed to lie with the ragged, sharp-shooting Southerners. 

The crackle of musketry increased; the dust rolled up and intermingledwith the wreathes of drifting smoke, and through it came the viciouswhine of leaden messengers of death. 

Then, borne on the wind, came a sound that he would know till his dyingday--_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 andunmindful that he stood there hidden in the woods and that his voicecould carry only a few yards against the roar of battle, he swung itover his head: and shouted out his encouragement. 

"Look! We're whipping 'em. Virgie, do you hear? We're getting them onthe run. Come on, boys! Come on!"

He felt her clutch on his sleeve. With wide eyes grown darker than everwith 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 hisanswer: "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 notrecognize it. In its wake came soldiers, infantry and dismountedcavalry, firing, retreating, loading and firing again, but alwaysretreating. 

"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. Hehad 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 upto his shoulder--he aimed at some unseen foe and fired. But fromsomewhere, out of the crash of sound and the rolling powder smoke, asinging missile came and found its mark. The man in blue bent oversuddenly, wavered, then toppled down inside the wall, his gun ringing onthe 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 therear, were tearing by while the two field pieces which but a moment agohad gone into action with such a deadly whirl came limping back withslashed traces and splintered wheels. With fascinated eyes the Rebelofficer watched from behind his wall, while everything, even his child, was forgotten in the lust for victory. And so he did not hear the faintvoice 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 asshe could and then gave up everything to the pitiful appeal ringing inher ears. Quick as a flash, she sped away on bare feet over rocks andsharp, pointed branches of fallen trees to the spring, where she caughtup a cup and filled it to the brim. Another swift rush and she reachedthe fallen man in blue and had the cup at his lips, while her arm wentunder his head to lift it. 

"Virgie!" her father cried, frantic at the sight. With a great leap hewas at her side, forcing her down to the ground and covering her withhis body. 

The trooper's head sank back and his eyes began to dull. 

"May God bless ye, little one, " he murmured. "Heaven--_Mary_--_!_" Hislips gave out one long, shuddering sigh. His body grew slack and hischin fell. Trooper Harry O'Connell had fought his last fight--hadpassed to his final review. 

One look at the boyish face so suddenly gone gray and bloodless and Garycaught 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 thewall. 

And now the shriek of the shells and the whine of the bullets cameshriller than before. All around them the twigs were dropping, while theacrid powder smoke rolled in through the trees and burnt their eyes andthroats. Again came men in blue retreating and among them an officer onhorseback, wheeling his animal madly around among them and shoutingencouragement 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 canhold them. Give it to them hard. Stand, I tell you. _Stand!_"

All around him, however, men were falling and those who were left beganto 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 whohad 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 beensnatched 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 ahinge. Another slackening of his body and the stricken bearer of theflag plunged from his saddle, the colors trailing in the dust. 

Morrison spurred his mount toward the fallen man, bending to grasp thecolors from the tight gripped hand; but even as he bent, his horse wentdown. He leaped to save himself, then turned once more, snatched at theflag 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, butfrom those who would win it at a cost of blood, for his troopers wererunning on a backward road, and Morrison fought alone. The "gray devils"were all around him now, and he backed against the wall, fighting tillhis 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 bayonetthrusts and saber strokes, panting, breathing in hot, labored gasps, andcursing his enemies from a hoarse, parched throat. 

A hideous, unequal fight it was, and soon Lieutenant-Colonel Morrisonmust fall as his colors fell and be trampled in the dust; yet nowthrough an eddying drift of smoke came another ragged Southerner, agrim, gaunt man whose voice was as hoarse as Morrison's, who had graspeda 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 turnedand faced the brothers of his country and his State. With a downwardstroke he arrested a saber thrusts and then struck upward at a rifle'smouth as it spit its deadly flame. 

"Don't kill him! Do you hear?" he cried, as he beat at the bayonetpoints. "I'm Cary! Herbert Cary!--_on the staff of General Lee!_"

For an instant the attacking Southerners stood aghast at the sight ofthis raging man in gray who defended a Yankee officer; and yet he hadmade no saber stroke to wound or kill; instead, his weapon had comebetween their own and the life of a well-nigh helpless foe. For a momentmore they paused and looked with wondering eyes, and in that momenttheir victory was changed to rout. 

A bugle blared. A thundering rush of hoof beats sounded on the road, andthe Union reënforcements swept around the curve. Six abreast they came, a regiment of strong, straight riders, hungry for battle, hot toretrieve the losing fortune of the day. The road was too narrow for aconcentrated rush, so they streamed into the fields on either side, re-formed, and swept like an avalanche of blue upon their prey. The gunsin the woods now thundered forth afresh, their echoes rolling outacross the hills, and the attacking Rebels turned and fled, like leavesbefore a storm. 

On one side of the road, Morrison and Cary shrank down beside the wallto let the Union riders pass; on the other, all that was left of theRebel force ran helter-skelter for a screen of protecting trees. Butbefore 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 andstriking on a stone. Under his very eyes and just as he was putting outhis hand to grip the others Morrison saw Herbert Cary sinking slowly tothe ground. 

And then, through the yellow dust clouds and the powder smoke and allthe horrid reek of war, a child came running with outstretched arms andpiteous voice--a frightened child, weeping for the father who had thrownhimself headlong into peril to save another's life and who, perhaps, hadlost 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. Herethe grim, silent man in whose hands lay the destinies of the UnitedStates sent out the telegrams which kept the Federal forces gnawing atthe cage in which Lee had shut himself and meanwhile held to hisstrategic position south of Richmond. To his left and west layPetersburg still unconquered, but Petersburg could wait, for Early'sgray clad troopers were scourging the Shenandoah and the menace must beremoved. To this end Grant had sent a telegram to Washington three daysbefore expressing in unmistakable terms what he wished General Sheridanand his cavalry to accomplish. They were to go over into the Shenandoahand, putting themselves _south_ of the enemy, follow him to the death. To which telegram the tall, lank, furrow-faced man in the White Housewhose kindly heart was bursting with the strain replied incharacteristic fashion and told him that his purpose was exactly right. And then, with a gleam of humor, warned him against influences inWashington which would prevent its carrying out unless he forced it. 

This message had come but a few minutes before and it had been receivedwith silent satisfaction for Grant knew now that Abraham Lincoln and hewere 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 Pointwithin a few hours and go north. And so he was standing at a window ofhis headquarters this morning with his eyes resting unseeingly on thecamp, while his cool, quiet mind steadily forged out his schemes. 

Unlike the headquarters of "play" armies where all is noise andconfusion and bloodied orderlies throw themselves off of plunging horsesand gasp out their reports, the room in which General Grant did his workwas strangely quiet. 

It was a large, square room with high ceiling and wall paper which haddefied all the arts of Europe to render interesting in design. Furniturewas neither plentiful nor comfortable--a slippery, black horse-hairsofa, a few horse-hair chairs and, at one side of the room, a table anda desk, littered with papers, maps and files. At the table Grant'sadjutant, Forbes, sat writing. Facing him was the door opening out intothe hallway of the house where two sentries stood on guard. In thesilence which pervaded the room and in the quiet application to the workin hand there was a perfect reflection of the mind of him who stoodimpassive at the window with his back turned, a faint blue cloud ofcigar smoke rising above his head. 

A quick step sounded in the corridor--the step of one who bears amessage. An orderly appeared in the doorway, spoke to the two sentriesand 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 thenote which the orderly presented. He took it without haste and yetwithout any perceptible loss of time or motion and, as always, withoutunnecessary words. Scanning it, he shifted his cigar to one corner ofhis mouth where its smoke would not rise into his eyes, thought for aninstant, then nodded shortly. 

"I'll see him. At once. "

Dismissed, the orderly saluted and passed quickly out. The General, withhis chin in his collar and his cigar held between his fingers at nearlythe same level, moved back to the window and stood there silently asbefore. He knew what Lieutenant Harris would wish to speak to him about. A few weeks before a Lieutenant-Colonel of cavalry had beencourt-martialed on the charge of allowing the escape of a spy. The courthad found him guilty and its findings had been submitted to the higherauthorities and endorsed by them. A copy of these reports now lay on hisdesk. All this his Adjutant, Forbes, knew as well as the Generalhimself, but if Forbes had thought it worth while to speculate on theextent of his commander's interest he might have guessed for yearswithout ever drawing one logical conclusion from all the hints that thatimpassive face and figure gave him. 

Again a ringing step in the corridor and this time Lieutenant Harriscame into the room, his hand going up in salute. But his General wasstill looking out of the window, his eyes on a dead level. There was asilence and then--without turning around--

"Well, Lieutenant, what is it?"

"A short conference, General, if you'll grant it. The case ofLieutenant-Colonel Morrison. " It was hard work to talk to one who kepthis 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 wherehe stood with his eyes steady on Harris' face. "Lieutenant! Do you wantme to think you are out of your mind?"

Before Harris could reply Grant stopped him with a gesture and picked upa batch of papers which lay on the desk. 

"The man has been given every chance. He has been court-martialed--andfound guilty. "

He dropped the papers in the case back on the desk. "And you--hiscounsel--having failed to prove him otherwise now come to _me_--forpardon. "

He snapped his fingers. "Lieutenant, you are wasting time. " And heturned away, pausing for a moment to turn over a sheaf here and there onhis desk and meditate their contents. The incident of Lieutenant-ColonelMorrison 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 Generallooked up with some surprise at this retort. "You have read thefindings of the court?"

"Yes, " was the grim reply. "And approve the sentence. To-morrow he willbe shot. "

"Yes, sir, " acknowledged Harris. "Unless _you_ intervene. "

At this curiously insistent plea for clemency the short, stocky beardedman who, to so few, had the bearing of a great general, faced LieutenantHarris and gave him a look which made the young officer's bravery falterfor a long moment. 

"_I?_" said the General, with a searching note in his voice which seemedto probe coldly and with deadly accuracy among the strenuous emotions inthe young man's mind. "Harris--you are an officer of promise. Don't cutthat promise short. " With a flick of his ashes to one side he turnedaway. 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, hadseen him exhibit through many vexatious, worrying months. His voice tookon a rasping note. He tapped the papers on the desk with grimsignificance. 

"Lieutenant-Colonel Morrison has failed in his military duty. Hereleased a Rebel spy--proved himself a traitor to his cause. "

"A traitor, General?" protested the young officer. "Do you call a man atraitor who fought as Morrison did a week ago? Who stood his ground tillhis whole command was shot to pieces! And then stood alone--defendinghis colors in the face of hell let loose!"

The appeal was impassioned, its sincerity and humanity undoubted. Yet itseemingly only served to make the grim rules of war more unyielding thanever. 

Choosing his words with more than ordinary care, and speaking them infirm, even tones, the General made his reply. 

"No act of bravery can atone for a soldier's lapse from duty. " He satdown at his desk and began to write. 

Under ordinary circumstances Lieutenant Harris might have accepteddefeat for there seemed no use in trying to break down that iron will ortouch the heart of this relentless soldier. But this was something morethan an ordinary case and Harris was more than simply Morrison'scounsel--he was his friend. The two had fought together through threehard campaigns; they had shared food and water and shelter, had slepttogether for warmth on sodden fields, had exchanged such confidences astwo officers from the same town in the North but of unequal rank mayexchange under the pressure of war-time emotions. If there was one manliving who knew Morrison's heart and appreciated his motives to theuttermost it was his lieutenant and the young officer was prepared tolose his commission, aye, even face prison for insubordination ifcontinued opposition to the Commander-in-Chief would result in are-hearing. And so he caught himself together for the second time andreturned to the charge. 

"I do not offer his courage as a plea for pardon, " he said, and turnedto his general with half a smile, "but still I find in Shakespeare--andin 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 lowbut almost fierce intensity:

"They call me a war machine! I am! And you--and all the rest--are partsof it! A lever! A screw! A valve! A wheel! A machine half human--yes! Athing of muscle and bone and blood--but without a heart! A merciless_machine_, whose wheels must turn and turn till we grind out thisrebellion to the dust of peace!"

He paused impressively, and in the hard, cold words which followed, allhope for Morrison seemed to fade and die. 

"If a wheel once fails to do its work--discard it!--for another and abetter one! _We want no wheels that slip their cogs!_"

The General ceased and turned to his littered table; but Harris was notyet beaten. 

"No, General, " he answered bravely, "but there happens to be a flaw . .. In your machine's control. " The General looked up, frowning sharply; butHarris still went on: "In a military court we have condemned a man todie--_and the facts have not been proved!_"

Amazed more at the young officer's obstinate temerity than his words theGeneral stared at him. 

"How so?" he asked, with irony. 

Harris opened out his hands with a simple gesture that seemed to leavehis logic to the judgment of any impartial observer. 

"In times of peace, my profession is that of the Law. I know myground--and, " in rising tones of sincerity, "I challenge you to shake itin any civil court in Christendom. "

"Strong words, young man, " came the stern reply. "For your sake, I hopethey are warranted. What is your point? Get at it!"

Harris drew a short breath of relief. He had cleverly switched theappeal from grounds on which he stood no chance whatever to those wherehe did not fear any intellect in a fair fight. 

"The evidence, " he said calmly, "was purely circumstantial. In the firstplace, it is alleged that my client captured a Rebel spy, one HerbertCary, 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 ofthem actually _saw_ the man! They _believe_ he was there, but theycannot 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 toenter the Union lines--without regard to consequences. "

The General gave a short exclamation of impatience, and struck thepapers on his desk with the flat of his hand. 

"And that is _proved_, " he said, sharply. "Proved by several officerswho stopped your spy at points along the road. "

He singled out a soiled piece of paper from the sheaf before him andheld it up, a piece of paper which bore writing on both sides. 

"When taken, _this pass_ was found on his person. Not circumstantialevidence, but _fact_. Signed on one side by R. E. Lee and, on the other, by Colonel Morrison. " He laughed shortly over the futility of argumentunder such circumstances. "Do you presume to contest this, _too_?"

To his amazement the young officer facing him bowed easily and smiled inturn. 

"I _do_. Emphatically. _No pass_ was given Herbert Cary either byColonel 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 toscan the pass again, and then repeated the words which he knew so well. 

"Pass _Virginia Cary_ and escort through Federal--and Confederatelines. "

"'Virginia Cary, ' General, is a non-combatant and a child. 'Escort' maymean a single person--or it may mean a whole troop of cavalry. "

To his infinite relief and joy his Commanding General looked up at himthoughtfully, then slowly rose from his desk and took a turn about theroom, 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 beenconfronted with such questions before and knows well how to answer them. 

"He, too, is on trial for his life. His evidence, naturally, was notadmitted. "

"Ah! Then what says _Morrison_?"

"Nothing, sir, " was the young lieutenant's calm reply. "The burden ofproof lies with the prosecution--not with the defendant. "

"And this is your contention--your _legal_ flaw in my machine?" theGeneral asked sharply. 

"It is. "

"Very good, sir--very good. In that case we'll call in these silentpartners and dig into this case until we reach rock bottom!"

"Forbes, " he ordered. "Send for the prisoner, Mr. Morrison--and theRebel, Herbert Cary. I want both of them here--at once!"

In the pause which followed the Adjutant's exit Harris interposed anobjection. 

"Your method, General, is hardly just to the interests of my client. "

Grant turned on him with something mere than impatience. He was growingangry. 

"Lieutenant Harris! Are you asking me to pardon a guilty man? It's thetruth I want--not legal technicalities. Next you'll be asking me not tohang this Rebel spy because he has--a baby!"

He went back to his accustomed place at the window and stood looking outagain, his hands clasped loosely behind his back, the eternal cigarsmoke 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 startwith?"

"Corporal Dudley, " was the eager answer. 

"And there, General, is another point and a vital one that was notbrought out. In reporting his Colonel, Dudley was actuated not by aspirit of military duty, but personal revenge. "

"Revenge? Why?"

"Because Morrison shot and killed Dudley's brother--a Sergeant in hiscommand. "

The General came back from his window. 

"Again--why?"

"For insubordination--incendiarism--attempted desertion, " came the swiftreply. 

The General's eyebrows raised a fraction of an inch. He seated himselfat his desk and unrolled a map. 

"Any witnesses of the Sergeant's death?" he asked evenly as he proceededto study his map. 

"Unfortunately, only one, " Harris replied. "An old negro--now in ourcamp--answering to the name of William Lewis. "

"Lewis--Lewis, " said Grant thoughtfully. He referred for a moment to afile of papers and then looked up. "Is that the old codger who's beenworrying my entire staff for permission to go through our lines to hishome?"

"Yes, General, " said Harris, with a smile, for Unc' Billy's persistencyand his troubles were known to everyone he met. 

"Good! It's about time we got even him, " the General remarkedsardonically. "Have him in! See to it, Forbes. " And again he bent overhis map. 

Forbes, passing out again, paused as Harris gestured. 

"You'll find him somewhere near the guard house, " the Lieutenant saidwith a flicker of a, smile. "The old man has been regularly camping outthere since he learned that his master was inside. "

A minute passed and then, from a short distance away, came the sound ofa squad of soldiers marching. In single file, with the two prisoners inline, the squad came into the hallway and stopped at the doorway. 

"_Halt! Left face! Order arms! Prisoners file out!_" The two prisonersstepped forward and entered the room. 

Thanks to expert surgical work since he entered Union lines, HerbertCary's wounds had healed quickly while plenty of good food had done therest. His eyes may not have been bright with hope but at least theywere clear with health and his straight back and squared shouldersshowed that the man's fighting spirit had not left him even under theadverse decision of a court-martial. 

Of the two, Morrison seemed the graver and quieter. With his sword takenfrom him and his shoulder straps ripped off the man who had been aLieutenant-Colonel in the Army of the Potomac only the day before stoodlooking at his general without the slightest hope for clemency. Yet, with all the sad, quiet look of resignation in his eyes, behind themglowed a wonderful light--the light of self-sacrifice. For he had chosento put on the tender glove of humanity and grip hands with the mailedgauntlet of war, and though he had been crushed yet even in this bitterhour they could not take from him the knowledge that the Commander inChief of all spiritual armies would stand forever on his side. Theycould take his sword and shoulder straps but they could not rob him ofthat divine consolation. 

And so the two stood with their eyes steady on the General--theConfederate, hard and defiant--the Union officer with a strange, sadglow on his face. 

But the General paid them no attention. He was still studying the maplaid out before him on his desk, the cigar in the corner of his mouthdrawing one side of his face into harsh, deep lines. As a matter offact, Ulysses Simpson Grant was very far removed from harshness--he wassimply and solely efficiency personified. When nothing was to be saidGeneral Grant said nothing. To do otherwise was waste. 

Presently he looked up and saw that while Forbes had given the twoprisoners chairs directly in front of his desk one of the importantfactors in the business in hand had not been produced. 

"Well, Forbes, well? Where is the negro?" He asked crisply. "Bring himin! Bring him in!"

"In a moment, General, " responded the Adjutant, hastening to the doorwayas the tread of feet sounded again in the hallway. Dismissing the twoprivates who had arrived with Uncle Billy between them he led the oldman down to the desk and left him there, bowing and scraping a littleand holding his hat in front of him in both hands. 

"Wan' see _me_, suh?" ventured Uncle Billy, intruding delicately on theGeneral'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 suddenquestion introduced a stiffening into it which made it more upright thanit had been in years. 

"I b'longs to Cap'n Hubbert Cary, seh--of de Confed'it Army. Das who Ib'longs to. Yas, seh. "

The General sat back a little in his chair and studied Uncle Billy. Hesaw that after all the old negro was simply a natural slave--that heprobably had no other thought in his grayed head than that of faithfulservice to his owner. But he would try him and see how far the old manwould go. 

"I understand, " he said, "that freedom has been offered you--and yourefused 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 atde--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 ofamusement 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. "Doyou know that man?"

"Me?" said Uncle Billy. He turned and saw Morrison and instantly hisface lighted up. It made no difference to the old negro that Morrison'suniform was mutilated--he could only see the familiar features of onewho had treated his dead mistress with perfect respect under tryingcircumstances. 

"Aw, yas, seh, " he broke out, with a broad grin. "How you does, Cun'l. Iclar to--"

Uncle Billy stopped. His eyes had gone beyond Morrison to the mansitting beside him and at the sight of that loved figure the old manbegan to tremble. His voice lowered to a whisper and he began to totterforward. 

"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 himtestingly--then suddenly dropped down on his knees before Gary who hadrisen from his chair. "Bless Gawd, I done fin' you, " he sobbed, his faceburied 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 fromwhat had seemed an inexcusable breach of trust. "Dey wouldn' gimme nopass an' I'se des been stuck! Aw, Gawd, Mars' Cary--an' I axed 'em ev'yday!"

"There now, Billy--don't, " Cary said with a gesture of pity and unendinggratitude. 

Uncle Billy rose slowly to his feet. 

"Yas, seh. Yas, seh, " he answered obediently. "'Skuse me, Mars' Gen'l. Icouldn' he'p it, seh. I--I couldn' he'p it. Dey wouldn' eben lemme seehim in de guard house--"

"That will do, " interrupted the General firmly. "Listen to me. When didyou 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 usout. "

"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 SergeantDudley. "

The General looked up and nodded. 

"I see, " he said, and Harris, knowing that due weight would be given thefact let go a faint sigh of relief and stepped back. 

The cigar came out of the General's mouth. "Tell me about it, " he saidto Uncle Billy. 

The old negro drew himself up and shifted his weight onto his otherfoot. 

"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 elsewhat 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 deth'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 saidagain and his hand went up to his eyes. 

"The wife of Captain Cary, " Harris said in a low tone and the Generalnodded. 

"Den--bless Gawd--de Cun'l come! He pick him down offn de frontpo'ch--and put him under 'rest. Yas, seh. An' Miss Hallie, she sho' washoppin', Gen'l. She--"

"Never mind that, " sighed the man whose creed was Patience. "Go on withthe story. "

"Yas, seh. Thank'e, seh. 'Twas des lek I tell you, seh. An' arfter whileorders 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 theGeneral'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 pineknot in his han'. Yas, _seh_. He--"

"One moment!" snapped the General. "Was he running _towards_ his troopor _away_ from it?"

"_Way_ fr'm it, seh, " replied the old negro, with unmistakabletruthfulness, "t'odes de ice house whar Miss Hallie an' de chillun wasat. 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 thathis master had never dreamed of. 

"He say--" and Uncle Billy's arm shot out as he pointed something deadlyat 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 militaryduty--and deserved the punishment. I commend your action. "

Harris, listening with all his might, thought the words more favorablethan the tone in which they were spoken and his face brightened. Then heheard the General speaking more sternly. 

"The Federal powers of administrative justice now occupy precisely thesame position with regard to your own default. "

Harris' face darkened. After the first just encomium--what was this thatwas coming?

Relentless and inflexible the voice went on. 

"The rules of war, as applied to a non-commissioned officer, must alsogovern 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 henodded his head towards Uncle Billy. "You ought to study law! Take himaway, " and he picked up a fresh cigar from a box in front of him andtossed the old one out of the window. 

Uncle Billy, with a puzzled look on his face, slowly yielded to thetouch of the two soldiers who stepped into the room at a gesture fromForbes. He seemed to realize that his testimony had not been of muchavail though just why was indeed a mystery. One thing, however, wasquite clear. 

"'Skuse me, Mars' Gen'l. I--I don't need dat ar pass home now. An' Imuch 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 thefatal room. "Good mornin', Mars' Cary. Good mornin', gent'men. _Good_mornin'. "

With the disappearance of bewildered Uncle Billy the General swungaround on the officer who no longer wore his shoulder straps. 

"Mr. Morrison, " he said, in his distinct, even tones. "Your friend andcounsel, Lieutenant Harris, has applied to me for your pardon!"

"_Pardon?_" cried Morrison, springing to his feet with an exclamation ofamazement. 

"Exactly, " was the crisp response. "It comes from him--not from you. Butstill, as an interested party, have you anything to say in your ownbehalf?"

The Union officer stared at his general for a moment without replying. Yes, there were many things that might be said--all of them honestarguments in his own behalf, all of them weighted with Right andHumanity but none of them worth putting into words in the face of thisdeadly machine of war, this grim, austere, unyielding tribunal. Hewavered for a moment on his feet as a terrible wave of despair surgedover 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 hisfeet, "No. Keep your seat, sir; you are wounded. Is it true--as I learnfrom this report--that during a skirmish a week ago you helped defendthe 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 outa cloud of smoke in surprise. "You draw a rather fine distinction, Captain. You saved the colors--_but you failed to save the man!_ You hadbetter have let him die--as an honorable soldier. "

There was silence for a moment, and the General asked: "Is it true thatyou were actuated by a debt of gratitude?"

"Yes, " answered the Southerner, throwing back his head. "And a greaterdebt 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, nomatter what human elements might be drawn into it, the General instantlyrose 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 andbacked 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 theashes from his cigar and presently looked up with another one of thoseterribly vital questions which came so simply from his lips. "Did youever penetrate the Federal lines by means of a uniform--of blue?"

The Confederate drew back as he felt the assault on his rights as asoldier. 

"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 quickobjection. "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 superbdefiance that General Grant knew so well--which was his one eternalstumbling block, and due to continue for another full year of blood. 

"Under the rulings of court-martial law, " the Confederate Captain saidin 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 ofsurprise, slowly resumed his seat. 

"Mr. Morrison!"

The Union officer rose and saluted. 

"As a military servant of the United States Government you were orderedto pursue this man and take him--dead or alive. In this you failed. "

Morrison inclined his head gravely but shot a look of respectfulobjection at his superior. 

"In part--I failed. "

Instantly the accusing forefinger was leveled at him across the desk andthe 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 neverwhile 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 distinctionsand your legal technicalities, the findings of our court were not farwrong. "

Dropping his handful of papers on the desk he caught Morrison's eye andrasped out his analysis of the case. 

"Captain Cary practically admits his guilt! _You_ were aware of it! Andyet you send him through the very center of our lines! A _pass_! Carteblanche to learn the disposition of our forces--our weakness and ourstrength--and to make his report in Richmond. He was an enemy--with aprice on his head! And you trusted him! _A spy!_"

As the General had been speaking the first few words of his contemptuoussumming up Morrison saw where they would lead and his manhood instantlyleaped up in reply. 

"I trusted, not the spy, but _Herbert Cary_, " he said with honestcourage. Then, as the General turned his back on him with a contemptuoussnap of his fingers--

"General! I have offered no defense. If the justice of court-martial lawprescribes a firing squad--I find no fault. I failed. I pay. "

With a gesture which indicated Gary the disgraced officer of the Army ofthe Potomac shot out his one and only defense of his action--at anunyielding back. 

"I took this man--hunted--wounded--fighting to reach the side of ahungry child. I captured him and, by the rules of war, I was about tohave him shot. Then he asked me to get his little girl safely toRichmond, and not to let her know--about him. "

"And she believed in _me_. _Trusted_ me--even as I trusted Herbert Caryto pierce the very center of your lines--as a father--not a spy!"

From behind the unyielding back came a statement of fact, firm andpitiless. 

"And it cost you your sword--your life. "

Morrison centered his eyes on the back of the General's head and senthis 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--Ihave failed. But my prisoner still lives! I could _not_ accept theconfidence of his child--the trust of innocence--a baby's kiss--with theblood of her father on my hands!" He dropped his hands and half turnedaway. 

The General turned, a little at a time--first his head and then hisshoulders. 

"A very pretty sentiment, " he remarked dryly. "But you seem to forgetthat we are not making love but _war_. "

With a supreme burst of anger at his helplessness before the bruteforces which would presently send him forth to the firing squad, Morrison wheeled on his commanding general and flared forth with hislast reply. 

"Yes, _war_! And the hellish laws that govern it. But there is anotherlaw--_Humanity_! Through a trooper in my command the home of an enemywas turned to ashes--his loved ones flung out to starve. When a helplesstot 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 Starsand Stripes. And then--to march back home, to a happy, triumphantNorth--and meet _my_ baby--with the memory of a butcher in my heart--_ByHeaven, sir! I'd rather hang!_"

For a moment General and Colonel regarded each other fixedly and thenthe General turned away to pace the floor. Presently he came to hisdecision and walked slowly back to his desk. 

"Lieutenant Harris, " he said in tones whose significance could not bemisunderstood, "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 oneanother with sad eyes, came a sound which made both men start and lookagain with apprehension written on their faces--the shrill scream of achild 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, whereuponthe two sentries crossed their rifles across the doorway. But whatmight have proved a serious obstruction for a man was only an absurdityto 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, onthe General's desk. 

"You shan't shoot Colonel Morrison, " cried this astonishing new comer intones of shrill command as she stamped her little foot: "I won't letyou! 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 herground with' angry eyes. 

"Orderly!" called the General. 

With a whirl Virgie dashed away from the desk, eluded the orderly andthrew herself into her father's arms. 

"Oh, Daddy, Daddy! You won't let him shoot the Colonel. Daddy, youwon'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 respitefrom 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 herfather's shoulder; the little shoulders stiffened, and eye to eye shelooked 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 littlesoldier 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, thoughchildhood's sobs are hard to check when a little heart is aching for thepain of those she loves. 

"Go now, darling, " her father pleaded. "Go. "

She kissed him, and turned in silent, slow obedience, casting a scowl atthe 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 pausedand then said gently: "Come here, little girl. Come here and talk tome. "

Somewhat in fear now that the kind voice robbed her of her anger thelittle pale faced child choked down her sobs and came slowly forward tothe desk. But, as she stood there, her courage returned and, marvel ofmarvels, her tiny hand went up in imitation of a salute. 

Grant dropped his chin in his hand so that their heads were nearly on alevel across his desk and looked at her with gentle kindness in hiseyes. 

"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 andnervously fingering her tattered dress. 

"Ah, yes, " he nodded. "And do you know the uniform of a Unionofficer--when you see it?"

Virgie's small mouth dropped open at the absurdity of the question andshe 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 theceiling. "Now, tell me. When you lived at home--and afterwards in yourcabin--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 fathercame, 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 saidpathetically. 

Another smile broke the sternness of the General's face. 

"That isn't what I mean, " he explained gently. "Did he ever wear a coatof blue--a _Yankee_ uniform?"

"_General_!" broke in Harris. 

"Lieutenant!" Grant frowned. He turned back to Virgie and coaxed her alittle. 

"Well? Tell me!"

With one bare big toe twisted under her foot and fingers interlocked inagony the child turned a look of pure anguish on her silent, grave facedfather. 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 rackedhim, 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 aninstant, noted that his face was quite without anxiety, then went backto 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 thepoor, tattered dress, and her clear eyes rested fearlessly on two othersthat read through them down into the pure whiteness of her soul. 

"_Think!_" said the quiet voice again, while the perspiration startedout on the forehead of more than one listener. "And remember what yourfather 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 theground and she made her answer--as crystal clear and truthful as if shestood before the Throne on the last great day. 

"When--when Daddy came through the woods an'--an' put my mamma in theground. "

There was a silence. No one moved. Outside in the trees and bushes thesong the summer insects were singing suddenly burst upon, their ears andthe myriad noises of the camp, hitherto unnoticed, became a veritableclamor, so complete was the stillness in the room. Everyone except, perhaps, the child herself realized the vital importance of her answerand now that it had been given the crisis had passed. The Littlest Rebelhad put an end to questioning. An audible sigh went up from everyoneexcept 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 nearestpost with a flag of truce and asked permission to go to my dead wife. Iwas refused. I went _without_ permission. "

General Grant rose to his feet. Centering the other's eyes with his ownhe spoke to him as one officer speaks to another when he expects thetruth and nothing but the truth. 

"And you give me your word, as a soldier and a gentleman, thatonce--once _only_--you wore a Federal uniform and that because of theburial of your wife?"

"I do, " answered Herbert Cary, a rebel to the last. "And that was theonly 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 stilldefiant prisoner, then turned his back and walked to the window where hetossed away a much chewed cigar, meantime thinking out his lastanalysis. 

Here was a man who had been hunted tirelessly month after month as arebel spy. It was true that he was a spy and true that he had worn auniform of blue. Yet the fact had been established--by the spotlesshonesty of a little child--that he had worn the uniform only so that hemight reach his home and bury his dead. And--went on the cool, quietmind--since the man was _not_ a spy how could a Union officer beexecuted for assisting a _spy_ to escape?

Coming back to his desk again the General picked out another smoke, feltof it thoughtfully, sniffed at it, then raised his quiet eyes. 

"Lieutenant-Colonel Morrison, " he said in clear, incisive tones, "_goback to your command!_"

Five words. Five short, plain words, yet they made all the differencebetween a firing squad and a chance at life again. There was asilence--then a gasp from Morrison's dry throat. At the sound of histitle--at the sound of that blessed order which, by right of supremepower, instantly restored him to his rank, the Union officer leaped tohis feet with a cry of joy. But it was not even for those around him inthat little room to know the wonderful vista of happiness which openedup again before the eyes which only a moment ago had been doomed toclose 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 andhumanity--think twice!"

He turned to his desk and took up a small piece of paper, crumpled andtorn. 

"Captain Cary, " he said, "I sincerely regret that I cannot honor thepass 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 adream. Then the General turned his back again and began to rummage onhis desk. The incident was closed. 

But there was a rush of bare, childish feet sand before he could escapeVirgie's brown little arms were round him and her dimpled chin waspressed against his waist. 

The General made no effort to release himself but looked down on herwith a softer light in his face than any of his men had seen there inmany months. 

"And as for you, young lady, the next time you pervert my officers andupset the discipline of the Federal Army--well, I don't know _what_ I'lldo with you. "

He looked down into her face and read there a wistful feminine appealfor outward and visible reconciliation. 

"Oh, well, " he said with mock resignation, "I suppose I've got to doit, " and he stooped and kissed her. Then he took up his campaign hat andwalked towards the door. 

Behind him the child in her tattered dress and bare brown legs stoodstill 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 ofheaven 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 towhere 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 ofcavalry was drawn up in one long, thin line. Knee to knee, the silent, blue-coated riders sat, waiting, waiting--not for a charge upon theenemy, or orders for a foray through an already harried land. Theywaited 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 theyloved and trusted, fearing him only when they shirked a duty ordisobeyed the iron laws of war. 

This man had been taken from them, himself a servant who had disobeyedthese laws, his sword dishonored, his shoulder straps ripped off beforetheir eyes. And now the troopers waited--and for what? An order had comewhich put them on review, a long thin line of horsemen waiting on theriver bank, while the sun beat down on the parched red fields, and thewaters 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, anda saber rattled against a booted leg. A whisper ran down the line. Theeyes of the men turned slowly at the sight of a single rider whoadvanced from the distant Union camp. He did not take the dusty roadwhich swept in a wide, half-circle to where the waiting troopers sat inline, 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 rattledagainst 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 thewaiting line, and the troopers knew that Lieutenant-Colonel Morrison hadonce more come into his own. 

Their sabers rasped from out the scabbards and rose in a joyous, swiftsalute, while Morrison's once dishonored sword acknowledged it. 

"_'Tention_ . .. _company!_"

The long line stiffened and waited for their officer to speak; yet thevoice was not the voice of an officer in command, but that of a comradeand a friend. 

"Thank you, boys! It's good to be back again. " He swallowed something inhis throat and struggled manfully to speak in even tones. "I must askyou to be quiet--and not to--"

He stopped. Again his troop had disobeyed him--disobeyed him to a man. Ashout went up, deep, joyous and uncontrolled, its echoes pulsing outacross the hot, red fields till it reached the distant camp; and Grantlooked up from a war map's crisscross lines, grunted, and lit a freshcigar. 

And Lieutenant-Colonel Morrison sat his horse before his cheering lineof men, silent, happy, while two tears rolled, unheeded, down hischeek--a soldier and a man!

His tenderness to a little child had torn him from his saddle and doomedhim to disgrace and death; and then, one line from her baby lips hadmounted 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 bothwith a dozen words of simple, unfaltering truth. 

 * * * * *

On the dusty pike which led to Virginia's capital another rider ploddedthrough the heat and haze. His coat, once gray, now hung in mud-stainedtatters 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 graycoat, sat still another Rebel--the smallest of them all--her tiny legsstretched 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 mileor two and we'll be at home. "

Again they plodded on, past fields of shriveled corn whose stalks stoodsilently in parched and wilted lines--lines that were like the ranks ofthe doomed Confederacy--its stalks erect, yet sapped of the juice oflife. Where orchards once had flourished their rotted branches now hidmouths of rifle pits, and low, red clay entrenchments stretched acrossthe fields. 

"Daddy, " broke out a piping voice, "don't you think we'd better makethis Yankee horse get up a little? 'Cause--'cause somethin' _else_ mighthappen 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 entryinto Richmond. They passed through Rockets, by the half-deserted wharveson the river bank where a crippled gunboat lay, then clattered over thecobble stones up Main Street till they reached the Square. On the StateHouse the Stars and Bars still floated; but the travelers did notpause. Northward they turned, then westward again, till they stopped atlast before a silent, stately mansion, the headquarters of theirGeneral--General Lee. 

Before the open door two sentries stood, but as Cary and his chargedismounted an orderly came down the steps and out of the iron gate. Aword 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, andher breath came eagerly and fast. 

On the threshold of a dim and shaded room they paused and looked. He satthere, at a table strewn with war maps and reports--a tall gray man in acoat of gray--the soldier and the gentleman. 

As father and child came in he rose to meet them, looking at the twowith eyes that seemed to hold the sadness and the tenderness of all theworld. 

He knew their story; in fact, he had bent his every effort to thesaving of Cary's life. He had sent a courier to the camp of GeneralGrant below the city, asking a stay of sentence till the facts in thecase were cleared; and only a half hour before his courier had returnedwith 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 superiorofficer. 

"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 levelwith 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.