“Some one to see you, Captain Morland,” was the greeting he received
upon reaching his tent.
Entering he saw a person standing in the center of the apartment as if
anxiously awaiting his coming.
“Captain Morland, I believe,” said the visitor.
“At your service, sir. I do not recognize you in the darkness, though
your voice has a familiar ring.”
“I would see you alone a few minutes, captain.”
“Very well; I will give directions not to be disturbed. I will be back
in a moment.”
He soon returned closing the tent opening behind him.
“Will you please make known your errand?”
“Is it possible, brother,” said the other lowly, “that my disguise is
so complete you do not recognize me?”
Had a cannon-ball dropped at his feet Captain Morland could not have
been more surprised.
“What! Mara! you here?”
“Hush! don’t speak my name.”
“But what does this mean? What has happened?”
Unheeding his questions she asked, catching him by the arm:
“Oh, Harry! have you seen him? Am I too late?”
Again he started with surprise, but in a moment he comprehended her
meaning.
“You refer to Curtis Remington. I have seen him.”
“And--and he lives?”
Her tone was hardly audible.
“Yes.”
“I am so glad. Is he safe?”
“Until morning.”
“He must be saved!”
“Alas! I fear it is impossible. But tell me how you came here. I am in
a fog.”
In a few words she told of the morning’s adventure; and then how she,
disguised, had succeeded in reaching the place after running the
gantlet of detection.
“I felt it my duty to do something to save him. I feared you would not
know of his being here. So I have come.”
“But you have run a fearful risk.”
“Do not speak of that. But tell me what can be done for him.”
Captain Morland quickly acquainted her with the particulars of the
postponed execution.
“It is an unpleasant turn of affairs,” he said in conclusion, “but no
more than one must be prepared to meet in the fortunes of war. Curt is
a spy and a dreaded foe to our cause. I love him as a brother, but am
powerless to help him. God knows I would gladly save him if I could.”
She wrung her hands in agony.
“And you are sure that he will be shot to-morrow?”
“As certain as I am that the sun will rise. But, Mara, this is weak in
you. He is not the only one----”
“I know--I know, brother. But I--I love him! I am willing to give my
life to save him!”
She reeled to and fro as if she would fall.
“This is weak in you, Mara,” he said, folding her to his breast.
“Come, put him from your mind; and in the morning you must return
home. Grandfather--hark! there is the bugle-call. We have had marching
orders. I must go. Our brigade is ordered to Buzzard’s Gap.”
Pressing a hurried kiss upon her brow, he gently put her from him.
“It is hard to leave you, but I must. Stay here to-night and start for
home in the morning,” he said. “You will be careful of yourself, Mara,
won’t you?”
“Yes, yes, Harry. Oh, this is dreadful.”
“Be brave--ha! I mustn’t tarry longer. Good-bye.”
Another kiss and he was gone.
Mara Morland pressed her hands to her temples in a dazed, bewildered
state of mind.
Then she suddenly started up.
“What have I done?” she asked herself. “He is gone and I have told him
nothing. God forgive me that I should so far have forgotten my duty.
These tears ill become the garb that I wear. I thought that I had more
self-control. I wonder if he is gone? He said to Buzzard’s Gap. That is
a part of Sherman’s design. His plans are working well. I must act ere
it is too late.”
While speaking thus she was brushing the tear drops from her eyes.
As soon as she had somewhat gained control of herself she peered out of
the tent.
All was bustle and excitement.
“It is no use to look for him now. I must go to the commander’s
headquarters.”
Acting upon this thought she boldly left the tent.
No one seemed to notice her and she breathed easier as she hurried on
her way.
At last to her relief the quarters of General Johnston was reached.
The commander, however, was very busy and she had to wait what seemed
to her a long time.
She was glad that it was night for in the semi-darkness she escaped in
part the scrutinous gaze of the lookers-on.
“Come, there is no time to spare if you must speak to the commander,”
exclaimed the brusque orderly at last.
“General, some one to see you who will not take ‘No’ for an answer.”
With high-beating heart Mara advanced into the presence of the
impatient chief.