A VAIN PURSUIT
Youth was strong in Harry, and, while he danced and the music played,
he forgot all about the incident in the smoking-room. With him it was
just one pretty girl after another. He had heart enough for them all,
and only one who was so young and who had been so long on battlefields
could well understand what a keen, even poignant, pleasure it was to be
with them.
Those were the days when a ball lasted long. Pleasures did not come
often, but when they came they were to be enjoyed to the full. But as
the morning hours grew the manner of the older people became slightly
feverish and unnatural. They were pursuing pleasure and forgetfulness
with so much zeal and energy that it bore the aspect of force rather
than spontaneity. Harry noticed it and divined the cause. Beneath his
high spirits he now felt it himself. It was that looming shadow in the
North and that other in that far Southwest hovering over lost
Vicksburg. Serious men and serious women could not keep these shadows
from their eyes long.
The incident of the smoking-room and the missing map came back to him
with renewed force. It could not have walked away. They had searched
the room and the court so thoroughly that they would have found it, had
it been there. The disappearance of a document, which men of authority
and knowledge had built up almost unconsciously, puzzled and alarmed
him.
It was almost day when he and Dalton left. They paid their respects to
Mr. and Mrs. Curtis, and said many good-bys to "the girls they left
behind them." Then they went out into the street, and inhaled great
draughts of the cool night air.
"A splendid night," said Dalton.
"Yes, truly," said Harry.
"I hope you didn't propose to more than six girls."
"To none. But I love them all together."
"I'm glad to hear it, because you're entirely too young to marry, and
your occupation is precarious."
"You needn't be so preachy. You're not more'n a hundred years old
yourself."
"But I'm two months older than you are and often two months makes a
vast difference, particularly in our cases. I notice about you, Harry,
at times, a certain juvenility which I feel it my duty to repress."
"Don't do it, George. Let's enjoy it while we can, because as you say
my occupation is precarious and yours is the same."
They stopped at the corner of the iron fence enclosing the Curtis home,
in which many lights were still shining. It was near a dark alley
opening on the street and running by this side of the house.
"I'm going to see what's behind Mr. Curtis's house," said Harry.
Dalton stared at him.
"What's got into your head, Harry!" he exclaimed. "Do you mean to be a
burglar prowling about the home of the man who has entertained you?"
Harry hesitated. He was sorry that Dalton was with him. Then he could
have gone on without question, but he must make some excuse to Dalton.
"George," he said at last, "will you swear to keep a secret, a most
important one which I am pledged to tell to nobody, but which I must
confide in you in order to give a good reason for what I am about to
do."
"If you are pledged to keep such a secret," replied Dalton, "then don't
explain it to me. Your word is good enough, Harry. Go ahead and do
what you want to do. I'll ask nothing about any of your actions, no
matter how strange it may look."
"You're a man in a million, George. Come on, your confidence is going
to be tested. Besides, you'll run the danger of being shot."
But Dalton followed him fearlessly as he led the way down the alley.
Richmond was not lighted then, save along the main streets, and a few
steps took them into the full dark. The brilliant windows threw bright
bands across the lines, but they themselves were in darkness.
The alley ran through the next street and so did the Curtis grounds.
They were as extensive in the rear of the house as in front, and
contained small pines carefully trimmed, banks of roses and two grape
arbors. Harry could hear no sound of any one stirring among them, but
people, obviously the cooks and other servants, were talking in the big
kitchen at the rear of the house.
The street itself running in the rear of the building was as well
lighted as it was in front, but Harry saw no one in it save a member of
the city police, who seemed to be keeping a good watch. But as he did
not wish to be observed by the man he waited a little while in the
mouth of the alley, until he had moved on and was out of sight.
"Now, George," he said, "you and I are going to do a little scouting.
You know I'm descended from the greatest natural scout and trailer ever
known in the West, one whose senses were preternaturally acute, one who
could almost track a bird in the air by its flight."
"Yes, I've heard of the renowned Henry Ware, and I know that you've
inherited a lot of his skill and intuition. Go ahead. I promised that
I would help you and ask no questions. I keep my word."
Harry climbed silently over the low fence, and Dalton followed in the
same manner. The light from the street and house did not penetrate the
pines and rosebushes, where Harry quickly found a refuge, Dalton as
usual following him.
"What next?" whispered Dalton.
"Now, I do my trailing and scouting, and you help me all you can,
George, but be sure you don't make any noise. There's enough moonlight
filtering through the pines to show the ground to me, but not enough to
disclose us to anybody twenty feet away."
He dropped to his hands and knees, and, crawling back and forth, began
to examine every inch of ground with minute care, while Dalton stared
at him in amazement.
"I'd help," whispered Dalton, "if I only knew what you were doing."
"Suppose, George, that somebody wanted to see the Curtis house, and yet
not be seen, wanted to observe as well as he could, without detection,
what was going on there. He'd watch his chance, jump over the fence as
we have done and enter this group of pines. He could ask no finer
point of observation. We are perfectly hidden and yet we can see the
whole rear of the house and one side of it."
"So we can. I infer that you are looking for some one who you think
has been acting as a spy."
"Ah! here we are. The earth is a bit soft by this pine, and I see the
trace of a footstep! And here is another trace, close by it,
undoubtedly the imprint of the other foot. It's as plain as day."
Dalton knelt, looked at the traces, and shook his head. "I can't make
out any of them," he said. "I see nothing but a slight displacement of
the grass caused by the wind."
"That's because you haven't my keen eye, an inherited and natural
ability as a trailer, although you may beat me out of sight in other
things. The shape of these traces indicates that they were made by
human feet, and their closeness together shows that the man stood
looking at the house. If he had been walking along they would be much
wider apart."
He examined the traces again with long and minute care.
"The toes point toward the house, consequently he was looking at it,"
he said. "He was a heavy man, and he stood here a long time, not
moving from his tracks. That's why he left these traces, which are so
clear and evident to me, George, although they're hidden from a blind
man like you."
"Well, what of it?"
"Nothing much to you, but a lot to me."
He rose to his feet and examined the boughs of the pine.
"As I thought," he whispered with great satisfaction. "Despite his
courage and power over himself, both of which were very great, he
became a little excited. Doubtless he saw something that stirred him
deeply."
"What under the stars are you talking about, Harry?"
"See, he broke off three twigs of the pine. Just snapped them in two
with nervous fingers. Here are pieces lying on the ground. Now, a man
does that sort of thing almost unconsciously. He will not reach up for
the twig or down for it, but he breaks it because it presents itself to
him at the corner of his eye. This man was six feet in height or more
and built very powerfully. I think I know him! Yes, I'm sure I know
him! Nor is it at all strange that he should be here."
"Shall we make a thorough search for him among the pines? You say he's
tall and built powerfully. But maybe the two of us could master him,
and if not we could call for help."
"Too late, George. He left a long time ago, and he took with him what
he wanted. We needn't look any farther."
"Lead on, then, King of Trailers and Master of Secrets! If the mighty
Caliph, Haroun al Kenton, wishes to prowl in these grounds, seeking the
heart of some great conspiracy, it is not for his loyal vizier, the
Sheikh Ul Dalton to ask him questions."
"I'm not certain that a vizier is a sheikh."
"Nor am I, but I'm certain that I want to go home and go to bed.
Vikings of the land like ourselves can't stand much luxury. It weakens
the tissues, made strong on the march and in the fields."
They left the grounds silently and unobserved and soon were in their
own quarters, where they slept nearly the whole day. Then they spent
three or four days more in the social affairs which were such a keen
pleasure to them after such a long deprivation. But wherever they
went, and they were in demand everywhere, Harry was always looking for
somebody, a man, tall, heavy and broad shouldered, not a man who would
come into a room where he was, or who would join a company of people
that he had joined, but one who would hang upon the outskirts, and hide
behind the corners of buildings or trees. He did not see the shadow,
but once or twice he felt that it was there.
The officer, Bathurst, told him one night that some important papers
had been stolen from the White House of the Confederacy itself.
"They pertain to our army," said Bathurst, "and they will be of value
to the enemy, if they reach him."
"I'm quite certain that the most daring and dangerous of all northern
spies is in Richmond," said Harry.
Then he told Bathurst of Shepard and of the trails that he had seen
among the pines behind Curtis's house.
"Do you think this man got our map?" asked Bathurst.
"It may have been so. Perhaps he was hidden in the court and when he
saw us go out, leaving the map on the table, he slipped in at the
window and seized it."
"But the court was enclosed. He would have had to go with the paper
through the house itself."
"That's where my theory fails. I can provide for his taking the paper,
but I can't provide for his escape."
"I'll tell the General about it. I think you're right, Harry. I've
heard of Shepard myself, and he's worth ten thousand men to the
Yankees. It's more than that. At such a critical stage of our affairs
he might ruin us. We'll make a general search for him. We'll rake the
city with a fine tooth comb."
The search was made everywhere. Soldiers pried in every possible
place, but they found nobody who could not give an adequate account of
his presence in Richmond. Harry felt sure nevertheless that Shepard
was somewhere in the capital, protected by his infinite daring and
resource, and they received the startling news the next day after the
search that a messenger sent northward with dispatches for Lee had been
attacked only a short distance from the city. He had been struck from
behind, and did not see his assailant, but the wound in the head--the
man had been found unconscious--and the missing dispatches were
sufficient proof.
A night later precious documents were purloined from the office of the
Secretary of War and a list of important earthworks on the North and
South Carolina coast disappeared from the office of the Secretary of
the Navy. Alarm spread through all the departments of the Confederacy.
Some one, spy and burglar too, had come into the very capital, and he
was having uncommon success.
Harry had not the least doubt that it was Shepard, and he was filled
with an ambition to capture this man, whom he really liked. If Shepard
were caught he would certainly be hanged, but then a spy must take his
chances.
They heard meanwhile that General Lee had gone to a former camp of his
on the Opequan, but that later in response to maneuvers by General
Meade, he moved to a position near Front Royal. No orders came for
Harry or Dalton to rejoin him, and, as a period of inactivity seemed to
be at hand, they were glad to remain a while longer in Richmond. They
still stayed with the Lanhams, who refused to take any pay, although
the two young officers, chipping together, bought for Mrs. Lanham a
little watch which had just come through the blockade from England.
Thus their days lengthened in Richmond, and, despite the shadow of the
spy and his doings which was over Harry, they were still very pleasant.
The members of the Mosaic Club, although older men, made much of them,
and Harry and Dalton, being youths of sprighty wit, were able to hold
their own in such company. The time had now passed into August, and
they sat one afternoon in the lobby of the big hotel with their new
friends. Richmond without was quiet and blazing in the sun. Harry had
received a second letter from his father from an unnamed point in
Georgia. It did not contain much news, but it was full of
cheerfulness, and it intimated in more than one place that Bragg's army
was going to strike a great blow.
All eyes were turned toward the West. The opinion had been spreading
in the Confederacy that the chief danger was on that line. It seemed
that the Army of Northern Virginia could take care of anything to the
north and east, but in the south and west affairs did not go well.
"It's a pity that General Bragg is President Davis' brother-in-law,"
said Randolph.
"Why?" asked Daniel.
"Then he wouldn't be in command of our Western Army."
"Bragg's a fighter, though."
"But not a reaper."
"What do you mean?"
"He wins the victory, but lets the enemy take it."
"It may be so. But to come closer home, what about the Yankee spy in
Richmond? It's an established fact that a man of most uncommon daring
and skill is here."
"No doubt of it, what's the latest from him?"
"The house of William Curtis was entered last night and robbed."
"Robbed of what?"
"Papers. The man never takes any valuables."
"But Curtis is not in the government!"
"No, but he carries on a lot of blockade running, chiefly through
Norfolk and Wilmington. I think the papers related to several blockade
running vessels coming out from England, and of course the Yankee
blockading ships will be ready for them. There's not a trace of the
man who took them."
"Something is deucedly sinister about it," said Bagby. "It seems to be
the work of one man, and he must have a hiding place in Richmond, but
we can't find it. Kenton, you and Dalton are army officers, supposedly
of intelligence. Now, why don't you find this mysterious terror? Ah,
will you excuse me for a minute! I see Miss Carden leaving the counter
with her basket, and there is no other seamstress in Richmond who can
put the ruffles on a man's finest shirt as she can. She's been doing
work for me for some time."
He arose, and, leaving them, bowed very politely to the seamstress. Her
face, although thin and lined, was that of an educated woman of strong
character. Harry thought it probable that she was a lady in the
conventional meaning of the word. Many a woman of breeding and culture
was now compelled to earn her own living in the South. She and Bagby
exchanged only a few words, he returning to his chair, and she leaving
the hotel at a side door, walking with dignity.
"I've seen Miss Carden three times before, once on the train, once at
this hotel and once at Mr. Curtis's house; can you tell me anything
about her?" said Harry.
"It's an ordinary tale," replied Bagby. "I think she lived well up the
valley and her house being destroyed in some raid of the Federal troops
she came down to the capital to earn a living. She's been doing work
for me and others I know for a year past, and I know she's not been out
of Richmond in that time."
The talk changed now to the books that had come through from Europe in
the blockade runners. There was a new novel by Dickens and another by
Thackeray, new at least to the South, and the members of the Mosaic
Club were soon deep in criticism and defense.
Harry strolled away after a while. He did not tell his
friends--nothing was to be gained by telling them--that he was
absolutely sure of the identity of the spy, that it was Shepard. The
question of identity did not matter if they caught him, and his old
feeling that it was a duel between Shepard and himself returned. He
believed that the duty to catch the man had been laid upon him.
He began to haunt Richmond at all hours of the night. More than once
he had to give explanations to watchmen about public buildings, but he
clung to the task that he had imposed upon himself. He explained to
Dalton and the Virginian found no fault except for Harry's loss of time
that might be devoted to amusement. Harry sometimes rebuked himself
for his own persistency, but Bagby's taunt had stung a little, and he
felt that it applied more to himself than to Dalton. He knew Shepard
and he knew something of his ways. Moreover, his was the blood of the
greatest of all trailers, and it was incumbent upon him to find the
spy. Yet he was trailing in a city and not in a forest. In spite of
everything he clung to his work.
On a later night about one o'clock in the morning he was near the
building that housed army headquarters, and he noticed a figure come
from some bushes near it. He instantly stepped back into the shadow
and saw a man glance up and down the street, probably to see if it was
clear. It was a night to favor the spy, dark, with heavy clouds and
gusts of rain.
The figure, evidently satisfied that no one was watching, walked
briskly down the street, and Harry's heart beat hard against his side.
He knew that it was Shepard, the king of spies, against whom he had
matched himself. He could not mistake, despite the darkness, his
figure, his walk and the swing of his powerful shoulders.
His impulse was to cry for help, to shout that the spy was here, but at
the first sound of his voice Shepard would at once dart into the
shrubbery, and escape through the alleys of Richmond. No, his old
feeling that it was a duel between Shepard and himself was right, and
so they must fight it out.
Shepard walked swiftly toward the narrower and more obscure streets,
and Harry followed at equal speed. The night grew darker and the rain,
instead of coming in gusts, now fell steadily. Twice Shepard stopped
and looked back. But on each occasion Harry flattened himself against
a plank fence and he did not believe the spy had seen him.
Then Shepard went faster and his pursuer had difficulty in keeping him
in view. He went through an alley, turned into a street, and Harry ran
in order not to lose sight of him.
The alley came into the street at a right angle, and, when Harry turned
the corner, a heavy, dark figure thrust itself into his path.
"Shepard!" he cried.
"Yes!" said the man, "and I hate to do this, but I must."
His heavy fist shot out and caught his pursuer on the jaw. Harry saw
stars in constellations, then floated away into blackness, and, when he
came out of it, found himself lying on a bed in a small room. His jaw
was bandaged and very sore, but otherwise he felt all right. A candle
was burning on a table near him and an unshuttered window on the other
side of the room told him that it was still night and raining.
Harry looked leisurely about the room, into which he had been wafted on
the magic carpet of the Arabian genii, so far as he knew. It was small
and without splendor and he knew at once from the character of its
belongings that it was a woman's room.
He sat up. His head throbbed, but touching it cautiously he knew that
he had sustained no serious injury. But he felt chagrin, and a lot of
it. Shepard had known that he was following him and had laid a trap,
into which he had walked without hesitation. The man, however, had
spared his life, although he could have killed him as easily as he had
stunned him. Then he laughed bitterly at himself. A duel between them,
he had called it! Shepard wouldn't regard it as much of a duel.
His head became so dizzy that he lay down again rather abruptly and
began to wonder. What was he doing in a woman's room, and who was the
woman and how had he got there? This would be a great joke for Dalton
and St. Clair and Happy Tom.
He was fully dressed, except for his boots, and he saw them standing on
the floor against the wall. He surveyed once more the immaculate
neatness of the room. It was certainly a woman's, and most likely that
of an old maid. He sat up again, but his head throbbed so fearfully
that he was compelled to lie down quickly. Shepard had certainly put a
lot in that right hand punch of his and he had obtained a considerable
percentage of revenge for his defeat in the river.
Then Harry forgot his pain in the intensity of his curiosity. He had
sustained a certain temporary numbing of the faculties from the blow
and his fancy, though vivid now, was vague. He was not at all sure
that he was still in Richmond. The window still showed that it was
night, and the rain was pouring so hard that he could hear it beating
against the walls. At all events, he thought whimsically, he had
secured shelter, though at an uncommon high price.
He heard a creak, and a door at the end of the room opened, revealing
the figure and the strong, haggard features of Henrietta Carden.
Evidently she had taken off a hood and cloak in an outer room, as there
were rain drops on her hair and her shoes were wet.
"How are you feeling, Mr. Kenton?" she asked.
"Full of aches and wonder."
"Both will pass."
She smiled, and, although she was not young, Harry thought her
distinctly handsome, when she smiled.
"I seem to have driven you out of your room and to have taken your bed
from you, Miss Carden," he said, "but I assure you it was
unintentional. I ran against something pretty hard, and since then I
haven't been exactly responsible for what I was doing."
She smiled again, and this time Harry found the smile positively
winning.
"I'm responsible for your being here," she said.
Then she went back to the door and said to some one waiting in the
outer room:
"You can come in, Lieutenant Dalton. He's all right except for his
headache, and an extraordinary spell of curiosity."
Dalton stalked solemnly in, and regarded Harry with a stern and
reproving eye.
"You're a fine fellow," he said. "A lady finds you dripping blood from
the chin, and out of your head, wandering about the street in the
darkness and rain. Fortunately she knows who you are, takes you into
her own house, gives you an opiate or some kind of a drug, binds up
your jaw where some man good and true has hit you with all his goodness
and truth, and then goes for me, your guardian, who should never have
let you out of his sight. I was awakened out of a sound sleep in our
very comfortable room at the Lanham house, and I've come here through a
pouring rain with Miss Carden to see you."
"I do seem to be the original trouble maker," said Harry. "How did you
happen to find me, Miss Carden?"
"I was sitting at my window, working very late on a dress that Mrs.
Curtis wants to-morrow. It was not raining hard then, and I could see
very well outside. I saw a dark shadow in the street at the mouth of
the alley. I saw that it was the figure of a man staggering very much.
I ran out and found that it was you, Lieutenant Kenton. You were
bleeding at the chin, where apparently some one had struck you very
hard, and you were so thoroughly dazed that you did not know where you
were or who you were."
"Yes, he hit me very hard, just as you supposed, Miss Carden," said
Harry, feeling gently his sore and swollen chin.
"I half led and half dragged you into my house--there was nowhere else
I could take you--and, as you were sinking into a stupor, I managed to
make you lie down on my bed. I bound up your wound, while you were
unconscious, and then I went for Lieutenant Dalton."
"And she saved your life, too, you young wanderer. No doubt of that,"
said Dalton reprovingly. "This is what you get for roaming away from
my care. Lucky you were that an angel like Miss Carden saved you from
dying of exposure. If I didn't know you so well, Harry, I should say
that you had been in some drunken row."
"Oh, no! not that!" exclaimed Miss Carden. "There was no odor of
liquor on his breath."
"I was merely joking, Miss Carden," said Dalton. "Old Harry here is
one of the best of boys, and I'm grateful to you for saving him and
coming to me. If there is any way we can repay you we'll do it."
"I don't want any repayment. We must all help in these times."
"But we won't forget it. We can't. How are you feeling, Harry?"
"My head doesn't throb so hard. The jarred works inside are gradually
getting into place, and I think that in a half-hour I can walk again,
that is, resting upon that stout right arm of yours, George."
"Then we'll go. I've brought an extra coat that will protect you from
the rain."
"You are welcome to stay here!" exclaimed Miss Carden. "Perhaps you'd
be wiser to do so."
"We thank you for such generous hospitality," said Dalton gallantly,
"but it will be best for many reasons that we go back to Mrs. Lanham's
as soon as we can. But first can we ask one favor of you, Miss Carden?"
"Of course."
"That you say nothing of Mr. Kenton's accident. Remember that he was
on military duty and that in the darkness and rain he fell, striking
upon his jaw."
"I'll remember it. Our first impression that he had been struck by
somebody was a mistake, of course. You can depend upon me, both of
you. Neither of you was ever in my house. The incident never occurred."
"But we're just as grateful to you as if it had happened."
A half-hour later they left the cottage, Miss Carden holding open the
door a little to watch them until they were out of sight. But Harry
had recovered his strength and he was able to walk without Dalton's
assistance, although the Virginian kept close by his side in case of
necessity.
"Harry," said Dalton, when they were nearly to the Lanham house, "are
you willing to tell what happened?"
"As nearly as I know. I got upon the trail of that spy who has been
infesting Richmond. I knew at the time that it couldn't have been any
one else. I followed him up an alley, but he waited for me at the
turn, and before I could defend myself he let loose with his right.
When I came drifting back into the world I was lying upon the bed in
Miss Carden's cottage."
"He showed you some consideration. He might have quietly put you out
of the way with a knife."
"Shepard and I don't care to kill each other. Each wants to defeat the
other's plans. It's got to be a sort of duel between us."
"So I see, and he has scored latest."
"But not last."
"We'd better stick to the tale about the fall. Such a thing could
happen to anybody in these dark streets. But that Miss Carden is a
fine woman. She showed true human sympathy, and what's more, she gave
help."
"She's all that," agreed Harry heartily.
They had their own keys to the Lanham house and slipped in without
awakening anybody. Their explanations the next day were received
without question and in another day Harry's jaw was no longer sore,
though his spirit was. Yet the taking of important documents ceased
suddenly, and Harry was quite sure that his encounter with Shepard had
at least caused him to leave the city.