Captain Morland was alone in his tent, when an orderly appeared at the
door and handed him a paper.
We need not be told that he is Mara Morland’s brother; there is a
strong likeness between the two.
He is a manly-looking fellow who has entered heart and soul into the
struggle for the Southern cause. He has already seen much of hard
service and is ready for more.
Tearing open the paper he read:
HEADQUARTERS OF }
FIFTH GEORGIA INF., C. S. A., }
May 6th, 1864. }
“_Captain Morland_:--Report to me at my quarters with a detail of ten
men as soon as possible.
“PHILIP MARKHAM, Colonel.”
“I wonder what is up now,” he mused, preparing at once to obey his
orders. “Something unusual; I am certain that he summons me rather than
Lieutenant Dodge.”
His curiosity well aroused, Captain Morland acted very promptly.
“On hand with your usual alacrity, captain,” greeted his superior. “I
have a delicate task on call else I should not have selected you. You
see our men have captured a troublesome fellow called Cavalry Curt,
one of Sherman’s spies. He is to be shot at sunset and the unpleasant
duty has been assigned to you. See that there is no blunder in the
proceedings. You will find him under guard down at the lower barracks.
As soon as it is over report to me. By the way news have come that
Sherman is beginning hostilities. It looks as if we might be called
to the front at any moment. It is no time to harbor spies. Captain
Morland, your duty is plain. I trust we can depend upon you for the
work.”
“You can, Colonel Markham, though I wish some one else might have been
selected.”
At the head of his squad Captain Morland repaired as rapidly as
possible to the lower barracks, to find the guard with the prisoner
anxiously awaiting his arrival.
“Is everything in readiness, sergeant?” asked the captain. “We have no
time to spare.”
“A grave has been dug and there is no need for further delays. I resign
the prisoner into your hands, Captain Morland.”
“Very well; place the prisoner at the edge of the pit and measure off
twenty yards. We must have this over as soon as possible.”
Cavalry Curt sent a swift glance upon the Confederate captain as he
spoke, and a low groan escaped his lips.
The next instant he turned his face away as if watching the setting sun.
He had recognized his former friend but the discovery only seemed to
make his fate harder to bear.
“I hope Hal won’t recognize me,” he thought. “It will only make his
duty the more difficult to perform.”
Those who heard his groan attributed its utterance to a different cause
than that which produced it.
“So your courage begins to fail you,” said one of those whose duty it
was to remove him to the fated post. “Well it will soon be over. Will
you be blindfolded?”
“No--yes.”
Cavalry Curt uttered the affirmative when the thought occurred to him
that it would serve to hide his face.
But his voice had betrayed him.
Captain Morland turned his searching gaze upon him and their eyes met.
“Curt Remington!”
“Hal Morland!”
It was a strange meeting for old friends.
The scout was the first to recover his self-possession.
“I hoped you wouldn’t recognize me, Hal. But do your duty. It is a poor
soldier who is afraid to die.”
“No--no! not that, Curt. My God, I did not dream of this. I have not
forgot the debt that I owe you. How came you here?”
“I was caught as a spy. But see, the sun is setting. You jeopardize
your own life by this delay. Once more I ask you to do your duty.”
Captain Morland made a few swift passes which were quickly answered by
the other.
“That settles it,” he exclaimed with a lighter countenance. “There
isn’t power enough in the South to compel me to do this deed.”
Turning to the wondering soldiers he said:
“Boys, that man is a Freemason. So am I. They may do what they will
to me, but I cannot see this work go on. I am bound by an oath that
I cannot break to harm no one of the fraternity. Some one else must
finish this work. For the present I order him to the guard-house. See
that he does not escape. I will report to headquarters.”
With a few passes made to the captive scout, which the others of course
did not understand, he wheeled and started for the colonel’s tent.
It would be difficult to describe Captain Morland’s feeling as he
presented himself to his superior.
“What, have you got over with it as soon as this, captain? I think you
have outdone yourself this time.”
“And you will have great reason for thinking so, Colonel Markham, when
I ask to be released from this work, as I do.”
“Wish to be released from the work?” exclaimed the other. “I never knew
you to shirk from a duty before, Captain Morland. It was for that very
reason I selected you of all others.”
“Thank you, colonel, but for once I must prove faithless to your trust,
even though I lose my commission by it. I am sorry it has happened.”
“Explain yourself,” was the impatient rejoinder.
“The prisoner is a Freemason and so am I. My oath forbids----”
“Oh! ho! so that is it. I see--I see!” exclaimed the astonished
colonel. “We can make that all right, captain. I feared it was
something else.”
“I trust my loyalty is above suspicion, colonel.”
“So it is; on my faith, it is. But what have you done with the
prisoner?”
“I ordered him to the guard-house to be kept under strict surveillance.”
“You did right. He will be safe there until morning. He shall be
attended to then. I have just received an important notice from
headquarters. Our brigade has been ordered to the relief at Buzzard’s
Gap and we are likely to receive marching orders at any moment. It
looks as though we were in for hot work.”
“Anything to break the monotony of this camp life,” exclaimed Morland,
“but I have a little business to look after, so you must excuse me,
colonel.”
“Certainly; only see that the boys are in readiness for a start.
Good-evening.”