The night was still and sultry. At one of the many camp-fires on the
edge of the road I saw the Arkansas colonel sitting cross-legged on the
ground, in trousers, socks and undershirt, playing poker.
Out in the open country how sweet was the silence. Not yet have I
forgotten one bright star of that night's sky. My mother and I had
studied the stars together. Lately Camille, her letter said, had learned
them with her. Now the heavens dropped meanings that were for me and for
this night alone. While the form of the maiden--passing fair--yet
glimmered in the firmament of my own mind, behind me in the south soared
the Virgin; but as some trees screened the low glare of our camp I saw,
just rising into view out of the southeast, the unmistakable eyes of the
Scorpion. But these fanciful oracles only flattered my moral
self-assurance, and I trust that will be remembered which I forgot, that
I had not yet known the damsel from one sun to the next.
I was moving briskly along, making my good steed acquainted with me,
testing his education, how promptly for instance, he would respond to
rein-touch and to leg-pressure, when I saw, in front, coming toward me,
three riders. Two of them were very genteel chaps, though a hand of each
was on the lock of his carbine. The third was a woman, veiled, and clad
in some dark stuff that in the starlight seemed quite black and
contrasted strongly with the paleness of her horse. Her hat, in
particular, fastened my attention; if that was not the same soft-brimmed
Leghorn I had seen yesterday morning, at least it was its twin sister. I
halted, revolver in hand, and said, as they drew rein,--"Good-evening."
"Good-evening," replied the nearer man. "How far is it to
camp--Austin's?"
"A short three miles."
"To what command do you belong?" he asked.
"Ferry's scouts. What command is yours, gentlemen?"
"Ferry's scouts." He scrutinized me. "What command do you say you--"
"Ferry's scouts," I repeated. "F-e-r-r-y-apostrophe s,
Ferry's--s-k-o-w-t-s--scouts."
The trio laughed, the young woman most musically.
"How long have you belonged to Ferry's scouts?" sceptically demanded
their spokesman.
"About an hour and a quarter."
"Oh! that-a-way."
"Yes," I replied, "in that direction."
The three laughed again and the men sank their carbines across their
laps, while in a voice as refined as her figure their companion said,
"Good-evening, Mr. Smith." She laid back her veil and even in the
darkness I felt the witchery of her glance. "I was just coming to meet
you," she continued, "to get the letter you're bringing me from General
Austin. I feared you might try to come around by Fayette, not knowing
the Yankees are there. These gentlemen didn't know it." "She just did
save us!" laughed the man hitherto silent.
"I'm Miss Coralie Rothvelt," she added, and then how she sparkled in the
dark as she said, "I see you remember me."
"I am but human."
"And yet you never take a lady's name for granted?"
"I am to know Miss Rothvelt by finding her in a certain place." My
honeyed bow implied that her being just now very much out of place was
no fault of mine.
"Nonsense!" muttered both men, and I liked them the better.
"My dear Smith," said Miss Rothvelt, "keep your trust. But if I part
here with these two kind gentlemen--"
"Who don't belong to Ferry's scouts at all," I still more sweetly added.
"No," she laughed, "and if I go back with you to Wiggins--to the little
white cottage, you know, opposite the blacksmith's shop,--you'll give me
what you've got for me, won't you?" She dropped her head to one side and
a mocking-bird chuckle rippled in her throat.
"I shall count myself honored," said I, and we went, together and alone.