LOUIS AS A CONFEDERATE SOLDIER
Moving along as if in deep thought, the clerk of the store reached the
very spot where Louis was in hiding, behind a number of loose shelving
boards standing upright under the counter. His legs were within easy
reach of the young Union soldier, and had he leaned down less than a
foot he could have seen the hidden one without trouble.
“Jacob!” It was a call from above, and at once the clerk moved away. A
moment later Louis heard him ascend the stairs, and an earnest talk on
the next floor followed.
Louis felt that now was the time to make his escape. Even if the
others should go away, the clerk would remain in the store until it
was time to open for business in the morning. Without making any noise
Louis arose from his cramped position. As he did this he saw close at
hand a pistol and a box of cartridges, evidently set aside for some
customer. He slipped both into his pocket as things which might become
exceedingly useful later on.
Less than ten feet away were the articles Jacks and Fox had brought in.
Over these Davidstein had hastily thrown some paper, to conceal them
from the Confederate officer, who, had he seen them, might have asked
some troublesome questions. Louis could not resist the temptation to
take a look at the goods. He speedily recognized his watch and several
other things belonging to himself, and stowed them away. This done he
placed the paper in its former position and ran lightly for the front
door.
A look outside told him that the coast in the immediate vicinity of the
store was clear. But how would it be farther on? That question could
not be answered. Those upstairs were coming down. He moved outside,
closed the door noiselessly behind him, and made a dash across the
street to an alley between a store and a private dwelling.
“Hi, there!” It was the call of a private citizen, who had seen him
running. Louis did not reply, but kept on his course, and reaching
the end of the alley leaped over a fence, crossed another street
and finally found himself in the rear of a mansion surrounded by
a well-kept garden. A barn was close at hand and he entered this,
thinking the hay-loft would surely offer a safe hiding place.
An hour was spent in the barn without disturbance, and the young Union
soldier was wondering what he had best do next, when he heard the
clatter of hoofs, and a man on horseback entered the garden and rode
straight for the barn. From the hay-loft Louis saw him dismount and
take some papers from a secret pocket in his saddle. Then came the
banging of a house door, the rush of feet, and a middle-aged woman
rushed up.
“Oh, Robert, are you safe?” Louis heard the lady exclaim, in anxious
tones.
“Perfectly safe, Lucy; although I’ve had a tight squeeze of it.”
“And did you get to General McClel--”
“Hush, my dear--” The man put up his hand warningly. “No, I didn’t see
the general, but I saw General Keyes and that was just as well. The
plans of the fortifications will help along the cause a good deal. Has
anybody been here since I was away?”
“Captain Andrews. He wanted to know where you were. I told him
somewhere about town. Robert, I am afraid they are beginning to suspect
everything is not right.”
“Perhaps. But as long as they can’t prove anything, Lucy, we are safe.
I hope you have something ready for me to eat, I’m as hungry as a bear.
Whoa, Clipper, there you are, old boy. Lucy, Clipper is a marvel to
travel through such swamps and muck holes.”
So the talk ran on, while the man lit a lantern and cared for his
horse. That he was a Union sympathizer there was no doubt. He had just
made a visit to General Keyes’s headquarters with the plans of the
Confederate fortifications in and about Richmond.
Louis felt his heart bound within him. Here were friends who would
surely assist him. He came to the edge of the loft.
“Below there,” he whispered.
“Ha! who is there?” ejaculated the man, leaping back and snatching up
his pistol, which lay on a feed box.
“Don’t fire, sir. I heard you talk and I throw myself upon your
sympathy. I am a Union soldier, just escaped from the prison two
blocks over from here--a place that used to be a pork-packing
establishment--and the guards are searching everywhere for me. So far
they have no clew to my whereabouts, and--”
“Come down here and let me look at you,” was the interruption, and
Louis ran down the ladder. The man held up his lantern.
“Pennsylvania Volunteers, eh?” he said, briefly. “Humph! How long were
you up in the loft?”
“An hour. You will assist me, won’t you? I don’t want to go back to
that awful hole.” Louis looked at the woman.
“Bring him into the house, Robert,” she said, turning to her husband.
“I am sure he speaks the truth, for when I was at the window waiting
for you I heard some men go by who were talking about two prisoners
having just escaped.”
“They were myself and a friend, madam. I don’t know what has become of
my friend, but I trust he is safe.”
“Come along, young man,” said the man. “And if you heard anything of
importance the quicker you forget it the better it will be for you,”
and taking Louis by the arm he led the way through the garden into the
house.
Once inside of the house Louis was conducted to a large sitting-room,
well furnished. Here he was invited to take a seat, while his host
looked to it that every curtain was carefully drawn down and the outer
doors locked.
“Now I will listen to your story,” said the man, dropping into an easy
chair.
“Won’t you have your supper first, Robert?” interposed his wife.
“Perhaps you are hungry, too?” she added, turning to the young soldier.
“I am--but I want to know that I’m safe from the rebels before I begin
to eat,” was the quick reply.
“You are safe here, my lad--only don’t speak of rebels so loudly, for
even walls have ears, you know.” The man drew two chairs up to the
center table. “We’ll eat here, Lucy; it will be safer, in case there is
an interruption from the outside.”
In a few minutes a smoking hot supper was brought in from the kitchen.
The lady had cooked it herself, all of her servants having been
discharged, that they might not pry into the affairs of the household.
Never had a meal tasted better to Louis, and he said so, after he had
eaten and related his tale at the same time.
“You were lucky to get away, Rockford,” said Robert Dowling, for such
was the man’s name. “And you were lucky to strike this place, don’t you
think so?”
“I do, Mr. Dowling--especially after such a spread.” Louis smiled at
the lady of the house, who smiled back. “This beats rations on the
peninsula.”
“I dare say it does. But now the question is, Having escaped from
prison, what are you going to do?”
“Get back to camp--if I can.”
“Precisely--if you can. It is going to be difficult, Rockford,
tremendously difficult. Getting through the lines is no light work.”
“I believe you, sir. But I don’t want to remain here, so I’ll make the
attempt, if you’ll give me a little aid.”
“I’ll give you all the aid I can. You had better not try to start
now. It will be daylight soon. Wait until four o’clock this afternoon.
Then you can go down near the picket lines and break through--if you
can--when it grows dark.”
“The trouble is, this uniform is against me.”
“Not so much as you may think. Some of the boys down here are wearing
cast-off Union suits of clothing. All you must do is to rip off your
numbers and letters and dirty the suit a little more and it will pass,
combined with a Confederate cap of gray which I will furnish to you.”
“And what will be my best route out of Richmond?”
“That must lie with yourself, since what is best is difficult to state.
During the day I will take you to the top of the house and through my
field glass you can get some idea of how the land lies.”
After this the talk became general. But Robert Dowling was sleepy and
soon he excused himself and retired, leaving Louis to be entertained
by his wife. The young soldier learned that the family had moved to
Richmond from Boston ten years before, the head of the house being in
business in both places. The war had ruined Mr. Dowling’s trade, and
being a Northern sympathizer he was using his leisure in giving the
Federalists all the aid within his power.
Having taken a wash after eating, Louis was conducted to an upper
chamber, where he lay down, but not to sleep, for his mind was in
too much of a tumult for that. He was about to start on a dangerous
mission. Would he succeed or fail? Then his mind traveled back to the
parting with Hornsby. Was the old soldier safe, or had he been retaken?
And then Louis thought of Andy. Where was the daring young cavalryman
now?
From the window of the bed-chamber he could look down two of the
streets of Richmond. Occasionally he saw an ambulance pass along, and
in the middle of the afternoon a regiment of Confederate infantry
passed with colors flying and drums beating gaily, on their way to
the front. “Maybe I’ll have to fight my way through those fellows
to-night,” he thought, as he turned away to avoid even the possibility
of being seen.
It was three o’clock when Robert Dowling called him, and both went up
to the roof of the house, but did not step outside. The man had brought
a pair of powerful field glasses with him, and through these he pointed
out to Louis the various roads leading to the north and east.
It was a grand sight to Louis. On all sides of him lay the Confederate
capital, hemmed in with fortifications and swarming with soldiers like
ants around some gigantic ant-hill. Here was a single company, there
a regiment, and over yonder an entire division, with tents and wagons
innumerable. From the fortifications frowned the batteries, and Louis
could distinctly see the gunners standing ready for immediate service
and the officers moving around, giving orders and inspecting the
various headquarters. In one section of the great field a regiment was
out on drill, its men marching and counter-marching in splendid order,
with bayonets sparkling in the light of the fading sun.
“Tough job to get in here, eh?” said Robert Dowling, briefly.
Louis drew a long breath. “Indeed it will be. Do you really think
General McClellan can do it?”
“If General McDowell’s troops come down, yes. If they don’t--” The man
did not finish. “Come down, if you have seen enough.”
“In a minute.” Louis turned the field glass to the northeast. “Our
troops have their balloon up,” he cried. “They are taking observations.”
“That balloon makes the Southerners awfully mad,” said Robert Dowling,
with a laugh. “Time and again they have tried to shoot it full of
holes. But come, or somebody on another roof may see you and grow
suspicious.”
They went below again, and now the man brought forth the faded
Confederate cap he had promised Louis. It made the youth feel queer to
put it on. “Seems like I was insulting myself,” he explained, at which
his host smiled broadly.
“You’ll get used to it. Now, remember, if you are asked any
questions, that you belong to Company A, Second North Carolina Troops,
Brigadier-General Anderson commanding, under General Hill, and that
you are looking for your company somewhere down the Williamsburg road,
and that you lost your regular army clothing during a skirmish in the
swamps. That will carry you outside of Richmond and when you get near
the picket lines you must take care of yourself as seems best. My
advice is, don’t move until it’s dark.”
“Just what I was thinking,” answered Louis, and repeated the name of
the organization to which he was supposed to belong, that he might get
it right. Soon after this he was bidding his kind host and hostess
good-bye, having previously given his word that come what might,
he would not reveal what he had heard in the barn during the night
previous.
He left the garden by a back gate, and with a heart that beat rapidly
hurried along the street to where one of the main thoroughfares led
out of Richmond to the Williamsburg turnpike. At first he imagined
everybody was looking at him and suspecting him, but this soon wore
away and he continued on with greater confidence. He had no gun, but
in his pocket was the pistol which he had picked up in the store, now
fully loaded.
Coming to a corner of the thoroughfare, he paused for a minute, to
avoid some soldiers who were marching past. As he lingered, he chanced
to glance at a door upon which was a brass plate bearing the name:
THEODORE FAILY
“The very man father wants to hear from!” Louis murmured to himself.
“Shall I venture to call on him, or had I better move on?”
His first inclination was to go on, but then he remembered the letters
from home, and how afraid his folks were that they might lose the farm.
He advanced to the door and knocked sharply.
In answer to his summons an aged negro appeared, and when the youth
asked for Mr. Faily, ushered him into a dimly-lit parlor. A minute
later Theodore Faily appeared. He did not know Louis and gazed
inquiringly at the young soldier in his tattered uniform.
“Excuse me, sir, but I am in great haste,” said Louis, speaking
rapidly. “Will you tell me if you are the Theodore Faily who used to
live in Pennsylvania and sold a farm to Mr. Rockford?”
“I am the man, yes.”
“I am an--an agent for Mr. Rockford, Mr. Faily. I have reached you
under difficulties. Let me ask, do you know a man named Samuel Hammer?”
“I do--to my sorrow.”
“Did he have a claim on that farm?”
“Not in the least. He once claimed to have, but his claim was
worthless.”
“He has been bothering Mr. Rockford a great deal lately,” continued
the young soldier. “He wants three thousand dollars, or he is going to
law--”
“The rascal! But it is just like Sam Hammer. Mr. Rockford had better
pay no attention to him.”
“Can you give me some paper, showing the truth of this matter? I will
manage to get it to Mr. Rockford by some means. I have risked a great
deal to reach you.”
Theodore Faily mused for a moment and gazed keenly at Louis.
“This is--er--a rather unusual proceeding,” he observed. “But in these
times many things are unusual. I think I understand you--since you must
come from the North.” He closed one eye suggestively. “Yes, I will give
you a paper, duly signed and witnessed. I hate Sam Hammer and would
like nothing better than to put a spoke in his wheel.”
The gentleman went out--to be gone over a quarter of an hour. When he
came back he handed Louis an envelope.
“There, take that. You will find it will stop Hammer, I reckon. And
when you see Mr. Rockford, give him my best respects.” He leaned
forward. “My sympathies are still at the North,” he whispered.
“Thank you a thousand times, sir,” said Louis, as he slipped the
document into an inner pocket. Then, after a few words more, he left
the house.
The sun was beginning to set when Louis found himself out of the city.
He had been stopped twice, but his answers in each instance had enabled
him to proceed without molestation. One man gave him minute directions
as to where he could find “his company,” and for this Louis thanked him
profusely, inwardly shivering for fear the fellow might chance to know
some of the North Carolinians and ask after them.
The young Unionist reckoned that he was about a mile from the picket
line when he came to a turn in the road he was pursuing. He had just
passed a small encampment of Confederate troops who were breaking up to
march to the rear. He now heard the thunder of cavalry on the road and
stepped into the brush at hand to let them pass by. They soon came into
view and he recognized the Montgomery Grays.
“Andy’s troop,” he muttered, and strained his eyes to catch sight of
his friend, but failed to do so, at which he was much disappointed.
The cavalry having passed, he resumed his journey, but with greater
caution, feeling he must ere long go into hiding until nightfall. A
short tramp brought him to the top of a rise. From this he made out
Confederate troops to his right and his left, while the road ahead was
alive with them.
“That settles it. I can’t go much farther in this direction. I’ll
strike out through the woods.”
Leaving the road, he pursued a course in the center of the rising
ground, thus avoiding the swamps upon either side. There was a beaten
trail here, showing that others had taken the same course.
A few minutes of walking and Louis suddenly stood still. A horse was
coming towards him, walking slowly. The animal was riderless and was
bleeding from a bullet wound in the foreleg. As the beast came closer
Louis recognized it. The horse was Firefly.