This was the first thought that flashed through her mind.
She hesitated.
Was it fancy or did the guard beckon her to come?
It was too late to turn back.
She rapidly advanced, with Cavalry Curt beside her.
To her joy the sentry merely glancing up allowed them to pass.
“We must separate now,” said Mara a minute later. “I trust you will
have no further trouble.”
“Have no fear for me. But to whom am I indebted for this kind act?”
“To the Wizard Scout,” replied Mara, and the next instant he was alone.
“A strange man,” mused Cavalry Curt. “But I have no time to waste in
speculation. As I am not needed here I must start for the general’s
headquarters. He will think I am a tardy errand-boy.”
But Cavalry Curt was not on his own footing yet.
In the very heart of the enemy’s encampment it was no easy matter to
run the gantlet of his foes.
His disguise, however, seemed sufficient, for few had seen his face.
Again, he was familiar with every rod of the country.
With full confidence in his ability to escape he coolly followed his
course.
The boom of cannon was heard in the distance, coming from the direction
of Rocky Face Mountain.
It told that the fight at Buzzard’s Roost Gap had begun.
“I am more needed at Reseca,” he mused. “Thither will I shape my
course. Ha! as I live Johnston is sending troops to that place. He has
discovered Sherman’s ruse. I wonder if McPherson will fall into the
trap. I--it is a risky undertaking, but I am in for it. I----”
“Helloa, Charley,” exclaimed some one breaking in upon his thoughts,
“ain’t your regiment going to Reseca!”
The speaker had stepped from one of the tents near at hand.
“Hang it, yes,” growled Curt in a disguised tone, instantly adapting
himself to the new situation. “And I’m in a deuced of a fix.”
“I thought the 20th was going. What’s the trouble?”
“My equipments are down to the barracks. I just stepped into Jackson’s
mess. Let me take your gun. Quick or I shall be too late. The last call
has sounded.”
“Well, here’s your shooter. Tell me how many Yanks you kill. I wish I
was going. I’ve got----”
But Cavalry Curt stopped to hear no more.
Snatching the gun from the other’s hands he started on a run toward the
troops.
“The 20th,” he panted of a corporal.
“To the right, sir.”
Watching his opportunity he fell into the ranks and a few minutes later
was marching with the Confederates on toward Reseca.
In less than half an hour he had escaped from the guard-house and with
a recklessness of spirit that characterized his conduct had joined the
Southern ranks.
Wild as the move seemed it proved to have been the very best he could
have made.
In less than another half hour the news of his escape flew over the
encampment like wildfire.
His name was on every lip and an exciting search was made for him.
For a time at least he was safe from them.
One other little incident deserves our attention before we turn to
record the fortunes of Mara Morland.
It may have been two hours after the escape of Cavalry Curt was
discovered that General Johnston was startled by the appearance of an
old man in his tent.
He had forbidden anyone to enter and was trying to get a little rest
which he was so much in need of.
“What means this intrusion?” he asked starting up.
“Nothing--noth-ing--no-thing--not much. Thought I must see you.”
“Orderly Knox----”
The strange visitor stopped him with a wave of the hand.
“Don’t trouble yourself, general, I’m Old Fatality and I thought----”
General Johnston repeated the name in a husky tone.
“Yes; I am Old Fatality,” the other went on, unheeding the commander’s
discomfiture; “and though my errand is not a pleasant one it is none
the less----”
“Orderly Knox----”
“Stop, general! three ain’t company!”
One of the general’s aides entered the tent.
“What is it, general?”
“Put that man out. He is disturbing me. How dared you let him in?”
“How in the dickens did he get in? Mercy me, it is the mad wizard! Come
along here, old man; you are not wanted here.”
“Of course I ain’t. Misfortune ain’t wanted anywhere; but you have to
take what the Lord sends, don’t you? I have taken the trouble to come
here and I am going to stay with you--my spirit if not my body. I was
with Beauregard at Shiloh, with Pemberton at Vicksburg, with Bragg
at Chattanooga and--you know the result. I am sorry for you, General
Johnston, for you are worthy of a better cause than which has led you
into the field, but defeat is as sure to be your portion as night is to
follow day. Adieu.”
As silently as a shadow he passed out, the spectators unable to throw
off the spell which he had thrown over them by his burning words and
wild manner.
When they did recover their self-possession enough to look for him he
was gone as silently and mysteriously as he had appeared.
Though no one may have believed his words they were never forgotten;
and later on they were recalled with a startling distinctness.