AN UNWELCOME GUEST
This was the sort of work I had long ago learned to love; it warmed
the blood, this constant certainty of imminent peril, this intense
probability that any moment might bring a flash of flame into our very
faces. Each step we took was now a stern, grim play with Fate, where the
stakes were life and death. I felt my pulses throb as I rode steadily
forward, fairly thrusting the darkness aside, my teeth hard set, my left
hand heavy on a revolver butt.
How, in such a situation, the nerves tingle and the heart bounds to each
strange sight and sound! Halt!--what was that? Pooh! no more than the
deeper shadow of a sharply projecting rock, around which we pick careful
way, our horses crowding against each other in the narrow space. And
that? Nothing but the faint moan of the night wind amid the dead limbs
of a tree. Ah! mark that sudden flash of light! The hand that closes
iron-like upon the loosened rein opens again, for it was merely a star
silently falling from out the black depths of the sky. Then both of us
halt at once, and peer anxiously forward. The figure standing directly
in the centre of our path, can it be a sentry at last? A cautious
step forward, a low laugh from the Sergeant, and we circle the gaunt,
blackened stump, as silent ourselves as the night about us, but with
fiercely beating, expectant hearts.
But hark! Surely that was no common sound, born of that drear
loneliness! No cavalryman can mistake the jingle of accoutrements or the
dull thud of horses' hoofs. The road here must have curved sharply, for
they were already so close upon us that, almost simultaneously with the
sound, we could distinguish the deeper shadow of a small, compact body
of horsemen directly in our front. To left of us there rose, sheer
and black, the precipitous rock; to right we might not even guess what
yawning void. It was either wit or sword-play now.
I know not how it may be with others in such emergencies, but with me
it always happens that the sense of fear departs with the presence of
actual danger. Before the gruesome fancies of imagination I may quake
and burn like any maiden alone upon a city street at night, until each
separate nerve becomes a very demon of mental agony; but when the real
and known once fairly confronts me, and there is work to do, I grow
instantly cool to think, resolute to act, and find a rare joy in it. It
was so now, and, revolver in hand but hidden beneath my holster flap, I
leaned over and touched Craig's arm.
“Keep quiet,” I whispered sternly. “Let them challenge first, and no
firing except on my order.”
Almost with the words there came the sharp hail:
“Halt! Who comes there?”
I drew the cape of my riding-jacket closer, so as better to muffle the
sound of my voice.
“Friends, of course; who would you expect to meet on this road?”
Fortune seemed with me in the chance answer, for he who had hailed
exclaimed:
“Oh! is that you, Brennan?”
There was no time now for hesitancy; here was my cue, and I must plunge
ahead, accepting the chances. I ventured it.
“No; Brennan couldn't come. I am here in his place.”
“Indeed! Who are you?”
“Major Wilkie.”
There was a moment's painful pause, in which I could hear my heart
throb.
“Wilkie,” repeated the voice, doubtfully. “There is no officer of that
name in the Forty-third.”
“Well, there chances to be such an officer on the staff,” I retorted,
permitting a trace of anger to appear in my tone, “and I am the man.”
“What the devil is the difference, Hale, just what his name is?” boomed
a deeper voice back in the group. “We are not getting up a directory of
the Sixth Corps. Of course he's the man Brennan sent, and that is all
we've got to look after.”
“Oh, all right, certainly, Major,” returned the first speaker, hastily.
“But the night is so cussed black I supposed we must be at least a mile
this side of where we were to meet. However, we have the lady here for
you all right, and she is anxious enough to get on.”
The lady! Heavens! What odd turn of fortune's wheel was this? The
lady! I heard Craig's smothered chuckle, but before I had sufficiently
regained control over my own feelings to venture upon a suitable reply,
the entire party had drawn forward, the leader pressing so close to my
side that I felt safer with my face well shaded.
“Where is your escort, Major?” he asked, and the gruffness of his tone
put me instantly on defence.
“Just behind us,” I returned, with affected carelessness, and determined
now to play out the game, lady or no lady. I was extremely sorry for
her, but the cause outweighed her comfort. “The Sergeant and I rode out
ahead when we heard you coming. Where is the lady?”
He glanced around at the group huddled behind him.
“Third on the left.”
“All right, then. Nothing else, I believe”; for I was eager to get away.
“Sergeant, just ride in there and lead, out her horse. We will have to
be moving, gentlemen, for it is a rough road and a dark night.”
“Beastly,” assented the other, heartily.
I fairly held my breath as Craig rode forward. If one of them should
chance to strike a match to light a pipe, or any false movement of
Craig's should excite suspicion! If he should even speak, his soft
Southern drawl would mean instant betrayal. And how coolly he went at
it; with a sharp touch of the spur, causing his jaded horse to exhibit
such sudden restlessness as to keep the escort well to one side, while
he ranged close up to our unwelcome guest, and laying firm hand upon her
horse's bit, led forth to where I waited. It was quickly, nobly done,
and I could have hugged the fellow.
“Well, good luck to you, Major, and a pleasant ride. Remember me to
Brennan. Deuced queer, though, why he failed to show up on such an
occasion as this.”
“He was unfortunate enough to be sent out in the other direction with
despatches--good-night, gentlemen.”
It was sweet music to me to listen to their hoof-beats dying rapidly
away behind us as we turned back down the dark road, the Sergeant still
riding with his one hand grasping the stranger's rein. I endeavored
to scan her figure in the blackness, but found the effort useless, as
little more than a shadow was visible. Yet it was impressed upon me
that she sat straight and firm in the saddle, so I concluded she must be
young. Rapidly I reviewed our predicament, and sought for some avenue of
escape. If we were only certain as to where we were, we might plan with
better prospect of success. The woman? Doubtless she would know, and
possibly I might venture to question her without awakening suspicion.
Surely the experiment was well worth trying.
“Madam,” I began, seeking to feel my way with caution into her
confidence, “I fear you must be quite wearied by your long ride.”
She turned slightly at sound of my voice.
“Not at all, sir; I am merely eager to push on. Besides, my ride has not
been a long one, as we merely came from General Sigel's headquarters.”
The voice was pleasantly modulated and refined.
“Ah, yes, certainly,” I stammered, fearful lest I had made a grave
mistake. “But really I had supposed General Sigel was at Coultersville.”
“He advanced to Bear Creek yesterday,” she returned quietly. “So you
see we had covered scarcely more than three miles when we met. How much
farther is it to where Major Brennan is stationed?”
I fear I was guilty of hesitancy, but it was only for a moment.
“I am unable to tell exactly, for, as it chances, I have never yet been
in the camp, but I should judge that two hours' riding will cover the
distance.”
“Why,” in a tone of sudden surprise, “Captain Hale certainly told me it
was all of twenty miles!”
“From Bear Creek?” I questioned eagerly, for it was my turn to feel
startled now. “The map barely makes it ten.”
“It is but ten, and scarcely that, by the direct White Briar road, or,
at least, so I heard some of the younger officers say; but it seems the
Rebel pickets are posted so close to the White Briar that my friends
decided it would be unsafe to proceed that way.”
This was news indeed,--news so unexpected and startling that I forgot
all caution.
“Then what road do they call this?”
She laughed at my evident ignorance, as well as the eagerness of my
tone.
“Really, you are a most peculiar guide,” she exclaimed gayly. “You
almost convince me that you are lost. Fortunately, sir, out of my vast
knowledge of this mysterious region, I am able to enlighten you to some
extent. We are now riding due southward along the Allentown pike.”
Craig leaned forward so as to look across her horse's neck to where I
rode on the opposite side.
“May I speak a word, sir?” he asked cautiously.
“Certainly, Sergeant; do you make anything out of all this?”
“Yes, sir,” he answered eagerly. “I know now exactly how we missed it,
and where we are. The cut-off to the White Briar I spoke to you about
this afternoon cannot be more than a hundred yards below here.”
“Ride ahead carefully then, and see if you can locate it. Be cautious;
there may be a picket stationed there. We will halt where we are until
you return.”
He swung forward his carbine where it would be handy for instant
service and trotted ahead into the darkness. The woman's horse, being
comparatively fresh and restless, danced a little in an effort to
follow, but I restrained him with a light hand on the bit, and for a
moment we sat waiting in silence. Then her natural curiosity prompted a
question.
“Why is it you seem so anxious to discover this cutoff?”
“We merely desire to take advantage of the more direct road,” I replied
somewhat shortly. “Besides, we are much farther to the east than I had
supposed, and therefore too close to the lines of the enemy.”
“How strange it is you should not have known!” she exclaimed in a voice
of indignant wonder; but as I made no reply she did not venture to speak
again.
My thoughts at that moment, indeed, were not with her, although I kept
firm hold upon her rein. I was eager to be off, to make up by hard
riding the tedious delay of this night's work, and constantly listening
in dread for some sounds of struggle down the roadway. But all remained
silent until I could dimly distinguish the returning hoof-beats of the
Sergeant's horse; and so anxious was I to economize time that I was
already urging our mounts forward when his shadow grew black in front,
and he wheeled in at my side.
“No picket there, sir.”
“Very well, Sergeant; when we come to the turn you are to ride a few
rods in advance of us, and will set a good pace, for now we must make up
for all this lost time.”
I caught the motion of his hand as it was lifted in salute.
“Very well, sir; here is the turn--to your right.”
I could dimly distinguish the opening designated, and as we wheeled into
it he at once clapped spurs to his horse and forged ahead. In another
moment he had totally disappeared, and as I urged our reluctant mounts
to more rapid speed all sound of his progress was instantly lost in the
pounding of our own hoofs on the hard road.
It was like riding directly against a black wall, and far from
comforting to the nerves, for the path was a strange one, and not too
well made. Fortunately the horses followed the curves without mishap,
save an occasional awkward stumble amid loose stones, while the high
walls of rock on either hand made a somewhat denser shadow where they
shut off the lower stars, and thus helped me to guide our progress.
But it was no time for conversation, even had the inclination been mine,
for every nerve was now strained to intensity as I spurred on my horse
and held tightly to the bridle of the other, almost cursing, as I rode,
the unlucky chance which brought us such a burden on a night like this.