THE UNIVERSITY OF
NORTH CAROLINA
LIBRARY
THE WILMER COLLECTION
OF CIVIL WAR NOVELS
PRESENTED BY
RICHARD H. WILMER, JR.
CRAG-NEST.
^. Romance of the Days of Sheridan s Ride.
By T. C. DeLEON,
Author of "Four Years in T{ebel Capitals,'^ '''John Holden, Unionist,"
"Creole and Vuritan," "The Turitan's Daughter," etc.
It is not the deeds that men do. so much as the manner
of their doing, that set their impress upon an era.
MOBILE, ALA.
THE GOSSIP PRINTING CO..
1897.
/
copyrighted; and all bights reserved.
TO
THE MEMORY
OF MY LONG AND WELL-LOVED FRIEND,
Mrs. price WILLIAMS, Jr.,
WHO WAS THE INSPIRATION OF ALL THAT WAS BEST IN
THE WIFE, MOTHER AND HOSTESS OF MY
"puritan's DAUGHTER,"
I DEDICATE THIS BOOK.
602809
CONTENTS.
CHAPTER. PAGE.
1. In the Winter Siesta .... 9
II. The Old Virginia Home ... 19
III. By the " Daughter OP THE Stars " - - 27
IV. A Bit of Sage Advice . . . 37
V. Under the Strain 49
VI. Varying Visitations . . . . 57
VII. The First Quarrel 75
VIII. A Portrait Exchanged . . . 85
IX. From the Opequon ----- lOO
X. Beyond the Lines - - . . m
XI. Home, Farewell ! 129
XII. How Blood Told 140
XIII. A Morning's Misadventures - - - 152
XIV. The Ride with Sheridan - - - 165
XV. A Richmond "Starvation's" Results - 183
XVI. The Torch at Crag-Nest - - - 202
Digitized by the Internet Archive
in 2010 with funding from
University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill
http://www.archive.org/details/cragnestromanceoOOdele
INTRODUCTORY,
'TpHE pseudo-philosopher who said : " A book without a preface
■* is a salad without salt," plainly valued his condiment above
his comestible.
The latter-daj' story that does not tell itself, will gain little
from the Greek "chorus" preceding it; and, equally, he who
can not read for himself does not want a book. Yet a word here
may point merely the raison (Tetre of this romance.
The war novel proper may be a trifle out of date ; one class of
readers for it having largely passed awaj-, while the other has not
yet mellowed, by reading and thought, for its real enjoj'ment.
But the present is scarcely a war novel proper, albeit its scenes
concern themselves with the most active and stirring events of
that most exceptional of wars — the struggle between the states.
The object of my " Four Years in Rebel Capitals " was not to
write history ; only to give a truthful and familiar view of the
gradual effect of the wearing strain and demoralization of civil
war upon the tone and character of a people. But, in that book,
very much had necessarily to be left unsaid ; even as in all war
novels their story and movement force aside their yet more im-
portant idea. Even the graphic sketches of mj' gallant friend,
John Esten Cooke, were given without pause to outline the result
of the scenes he paints with virile and vivid brush.
It occurred to me that a romance of facts, and carrying with
it their result — making result as it were the hero of the storj' —
might bear more conviction than could either historj', or stor}-,
8 PREFA CE.
separately. So I took a typical family of tlie Valley of Virginia
and made its home seat, and its gradual changes, the feature of
this tale. If I have drawn living men and women, the}' will do
the task I set for myself ; for their surroundings are familiar ones
to the time and the localitj' through which they move.
Portraiture has not been essayed ; though, of course, known
people have typed the characters. Few who recall him will fail
to see the lion-hearted, yet courtly, old colonel of the First Vir-
ginia in some phases of him a kindly critic christens "j-our
Virginian Colonel Newcome ;" and the old Valle}' grande dame has
a hundred prototypes in her own state.
Perchance, my particular Federal general never rode down the
Valley
Witli light of burning roofs, to mark his cojirse.
Still it is true that such wearers of the blue were not uncommon —
as generous foes as thej' were gallant soldiers. Carping criticlings
have said, ere this, that ray novels: "Cater to Northern patron-
age, bj' making his Yankees heroes." Their shallowness babbled
by this underlying truth: they detract from Southern heroism,
who undervalue the men the South fought so long and so well.
All the Cavaliers did not ride south of the Potomac ; tlie
grandest Puritan of the war had never seen Plymouth Rock.
With so much of preface, I leave this story to its readers. If
its people be not of flesh and blood, then no words of mine could
give it " pith and moment." If its results be not those of men's —
and women's — acts, it will relegate itself to the Leporello-list of
failures.
T. C. DeLeon.
Mobile, Ala., May 15, 1897.
CRAG-NEST.
^ mamuntt: nf the ^nvs nf SlrBridati's ^tde.
CHAPTER I.
IN TUE WINTER SIESTA.
Those were gay and reckless days of the early
war!
The harsh hand of conflict had borne as yet but
lightly upon the hearts of the people on either
side of the Potomac; though there had been suf-
ficient of the pomp and panoply of war to stir the
prideful ambition of both sections. But its grim
and ghastly realism — so well known later as to
become an element of daily life — had not yet be-
gun to irritate; far less to fester into hideousness.
Manassas had told its story of crude assault
and dogged reception; a fight — like Chevy Chase,
"of all a summer's day" — of green troops hurled
against raw levies, resistless — perhaps intentless;
of swirl, onset and blood, ending in wild rush for
the Capital and timorous expectancy of that dread
pursuit which never came.
Only came rest on arms, desultory watching
10 CRAG-NEST.
across the Potomac for weary months, as Manas-
sas Slimmer reddened into autumn; and that, in
turn, whitened with early snows the mountain
tops of the as yet untrampled Valley,
The first winter of the war may be regarded
its moral cocktail; stimulant to expectation and
tonic to hope, as precedent to that long orgy of
blood, happily not yet set forth upon its menu.
In the early days of winter, a gay and thought-
less party of younger people assembled under the
grave matronage of INIrs. Cabbell Courtenay in
her Valley home. Crag-Nest, time out of mind
the manor house of the Courtenays, had ever
swung wide its hospitable doors; its widowed
mistress clinging to traditions of her own race,
and basing her life-habit on the memories of a
husband, whose practice had ever been transla-
tion of the Arab's wordy proffer to his guest.
As the red glow of early sunset lingered about
the brow of the mountain opposite, its reflection
warmed the sloping lawn leading to the home;
and the low, broad porch along which rapidly
paced two young girls. Well dressed in latest
style and fabric, these two presented, even to the
casual glance, that marked contrast — in thought
and manner, as well as appearance — which so
often goes to cement girl friendships. Dark,
ruddy and tall, Valerie Courtenay showed in
every flash of her black eyes and every curve and
IN THE WINTER SIESTA. \\
movement of her supple figure — in the very tread
of her slim boot and quick movement of the
slender, brown hand about her hairpins — the
conscious power, will and self reliance, foreign to
her fair companion. For Wythe Dandridge was
shorter by a head than her cousin and chosen con-
fidante; white, plump and soft, with peachblow
complexion and curves suggestive of dimple in
shoulder and elbow. Masses of soft, fair hair
coiled low upon her neck and shaded the low brow,
'neath which mild, blue eyes glanced furtively
toward the gate, as the pair halted at the door of
the sashed side porch that formed a conservatory.
Valerie Courtenay followed the other's glance
with a quick flash of her dark eyes as, with a mock
sigh, she quoted :
"'He cometh not,' she said, 'I am a-weary:' 1
wonder if he's dead."
"Val!" was all Miss Dandridge replied. "How
ca7i you? " But the real sigh came, as the soft
eyes again traveled to the gate.
"How can /<e," Val retorted demurely, "after
writing great oaths, that took eight portraits of
Mr. Davis to bring them through the mails, that
he would be here this very day. Much I fear, my
pretty coz, that he has surrendered, rescue or no
rescue, to that dreadful Baltimore girl; or else
has been captured en route by the flying artillery
belles at Winchester."
12 CRAG-NEST.
"You know you don't mean it, Val," Wythe
Dandridge answered gravely. "And besides,
why should / care? You know he wrote to you,
not to me."
^^To me and for you," Val answered saucily.
"Why, my dear, I'm old enough to be his — aunt,
if I am his cousin. I tell you, Wythe, he's a
deserter."
"I'm sure he's detained by duty," the other
pleaded seriously.
" 'The true knight's duty is to his ladye fayre;'
and I am sure — "
"Listen! — horses' feet!" the fairer girl broke
in, bending her little pink shell of an ear toward
the yet faint sounds. "It must be he!"
"Undoubtedly," Val assented, leaning calmly
against the pillar, "for there is no other rider in
the Valley; and Master Rob Maury always rides
four-in-hand."
"There are several horses," the other girl an-
swered; still listening eagerly and with height-
ened color. "They are coming so fast. Oh! I
hope nothing has happened!"
"Nothing more serious I warrant," Miss
Courtenay answered, "than a squad bringing
news of his being shot for desertion; or perhaps
Master Rob is bringing in some Yankee picket
that captured him. Don't you think so, aunt?"
"What a rattlebrain you are, Val," the lady
IJV TBI: WINTER SIESTA. 13
addressed replied. She stepped from the con-
servatory and carefully closed the sashed doors
with firm, white, patrician hands, on which the
lined, blue veins alone spoke of great age. Taller
than either girl, with the grace of belleship from
another age showing in every pose and in every
fold of her severely made black silk gown, Mrs.
Courtenay looked a perfect portrait of colonial
days, just stepped from its frame. The clear,
white skin, softened still more by hair of spun
silver, pompadoured high back from the broad
brow; the aquiline nose, full but firm lips and
partly doubled chin gave singular strength to a
face in which benevolence blended with power,
only to be dominated at times hj the steady gleam
of steel gray eyes, undimmed by age and unyield-
ing to the modern fad for "glasses." Calm, self-
reliant simplicity spoke in every line of face and
figure and dress; its crowning the stiff and tower-
ing back of her widow's cap, of which the frill and
strings hung loose behind her coronet of hair. No
gleam of jewel, chain or ring relieved severe sim-
plicity of dress, save only the heavy circlet of gold
about her wedding finger.
"Visitors, aunt; and several of them," Val
said, as the clatter of hoofs grew clear and sharp
on the hard mountain road and a party of four
horsemen, at a rapid trot, swung round the curve
of the hill and bore down upon the gate.
14 CRAG-NEST.
"They are ever welcome," Mrs. Courtenay re-
plied — one of her rare smiles showing even, white
teeth, of nature's making. "They are doubly so
when they wear our uniform. But see, my chil-
dren! That taller horseman is our cousin, Wirt."
And the lady of the manor moved toward the
broad steps, as the riders clattered through the
gate and up the path.
"And the tall young rider behind him is our
cousin, Rob Maury," Val whispered to her cousin,
as she followed her aunt.
"And the other is Lieutenant Caskie Cullen,"
Wythe Dandridge whispered back; a most unnec-
essary blush tinting her soft cheek and what of
her neck peeped above her collar.
Erect, stern and soldierly, the elder oflflcer rode
up; drawing rein as he lifted his corded hat and
gravely bent his broad shoulders; then swinging
from saddle with the easy grace of a young horse-
man. Over six feet of height seemed even more
from length of sinewy limb and lank, muscular
body; its depth of rounded chest denoting unusual
strength. The close fitting shell-jacket and bufe
riding pants answered to play of muscle; the high
riding boots ended in slim, high-arched feet; while
the ungauntleted hand that raised his hat was
firm and white, but nervous as if gripping the hilt
of his famous sword. For few men in the Army
of Virginia could draw that blade from scabbard
JiV THE WINTER SIESTA. 15
with one sweep, so great was its keen and shining
length.
Every inch the cavalier looked Colonel Wirt
Calvert, as well he might with the bluest blood of
sister states coursing through his veins. Straight
descended through his sire from the first lords of
Maryland, his mother's forbears had early landed
at Jamestown. And upon the face that fitly top-
ped his stalwart frame, the marks of descent and
personality were traced with equal clearness.
The high, sloping forehead, its temples fringed
sparsely with snow-white hair; the deep-set blue
eyes beneath heavy gray brows; the firm-based
nose with ample nostrils, and the long-sloped jaw
with full, beardless chin, denoted tenacity of the
"Island Mastiff," tempered by high intelligence.
But that tell-tale feature, the mouth, spoke no
further clue to the complex machinery within; for
the long sweep of a huge, gray mustache com-
pletely veiled it and curved about the jaw. So, as he
tossed his rein to the ready orderly, never moving
the blue eyes from the ladies, as he advanced with
bared head. Colonel Calvert seemed best exemplar
of those "Golden Horse Shoe Knights," whom the
Southern poet wrote:
" The knightliest of the knightly race,
Who, since the days of old,
Have kept the lamp of chivalry
Alight in hearts of gold —
16 CMAG-NE8T.
The kindliest of the kindlj' band
Who rarely hated ease,
Who rode with Smith around the land,
And Raleigh round the seas!
"Who climbed the blue Virginia hills
Amid embattled foes,
And planted there, in valleys fair,
The lily and the rose —
Whose fragrance lives in many lands,
Whose beautj' stars the earth,
And lights the hearths of many homes
With loveliness and worth!"
Educated at St. Cyr, with the cadets of a noble
French family — whose head had fought by Major
Herbert Calvert's side in Washington's campaigns
and had shared his blanket at Valley Forge — the
son added the softer graces of Parisian manner to
the more solid courtliness of the old school Vir-
ginian.
"We were fortunate indeed, Cousin Virginia,"
he said, with a bow a marshal of the Empire might
have given before Josephine, "that our duty and
pleasure unite in laying our road to your door.
Thrice fortunate — " he added as he raised his head,
after touching his mustache to the extended hand
of his kinswoman, and his keen glance rested
kindly on the two girls — "in finding your fair
young aides on duty."
And the tall head bent not so low this time, as
IN THE WINTER SIESTA. 17
the grim mustache swept lightly each fresh fore-
head:
"Why, my little cousins, you grow prettier
every time we meet! But, pardon. Cousin Vir-
ginia! You know my young friend, Maury; let
me present Lieutenant Fraser Ravanel, of Charles-
ton."
''You were ever welcome, sir," the old lady said
gently, "simply as a Carolina soldier; more so as
my kinsman's friend. But you have a higher
claim to command me and mine if, as I believe,
your mother was Sarah Routlege, my schoolmate
at Philadelphia. My nieces, Miss Courtenay —
Miss Dandridge, — Mr. Kavanel."
Robert Maury, boyish, agile and gay, had
thrown himself from his horse and was already
shaking hands heartily with both girls; but Wythe
Dandridge's blue eyes looked beyond the young
soldier, to open wide with surprise at the deeper
crimson disc that jumped into Val Courtenay's
pleasure-flushed cheek, as her eyes meet the grave,
gray ones of the tall Carolina cavalryman. But
he advanced with lazy grace, taking the old lady's
hand courteously, as he said in his soft, seaboard
accent :
"You are so good to remember her, Mrs. Courte-
nay! I have often heard ma speak of her school-
days; and I must compliment her by saying that
she is as well preserved as yourself. I am
2
18 CRAG-NE8T.
charmed to meet Miss Dandridge, after hearing
so much of her," — he again bowed suavely;
adding easily — "and Miss Courtenay and I are
scarcely strangers."
"Oh! how delightful — " Wythe began aloud to
Rob Maury; but the other girl broke in a trifle
rapidly, the color still lingering in her face:
"Yes, aunt; Mr. Ravanel and I have met at
Judge Brooke's, in Richmond. But, Cousin Wirt,
how does it chance that you all came this way;
adding" — she finished with her old manner and a
quick glance at Miss Dandridge — "so much to all
our pleasure?"
"Providence and the War Department," the
veteran answered. "I have been transferred to
command of the — th Cavalry; and our base of
operations will be the Valley for the present."
"Oh! I'm so glad!" chirped Miss Dandridge.
"So am I," echoed Rob Maury.
"I may venture to join the chorus?" the Caro-
linian said quietly. But the interrogation point
was made by the flash of his gray eyes, as they
met the dark ones Val Courtenay chanced to lift
at his words.
THE OLD VIRGINIA HOME. 10
CHAPTER 11.
THE OLD VIRGINIA HOME.
Crag-Nest loked little warlike, as the family
and its guests sat about the old-time table, loaded
with triumphs of the Mrginian cuisine. Sturdy
men of war — their appetites sharpened by brisk
riding through crisp, mountain air, and their
viands sauced by warmest welcome and charming
companionship — charged valorous upon the ram-
parts of fried chicken and swept resistless over
barricades of raised biscuits. They decimated
long ranks of brown muflins and the pig-ham
melted as they bore down like the Guard at Water-
loo. Amber coffee flowed free, and now — the
main onset done — they pressed no less vigorously
the rear-guard of airy waffles and flannel cakes, of
which the flankers were literally "flowing with
milk and honey." But in the pauses of pleasant
conflict, the colonel had told his story, not un-
aided by volunteer aidship of Master Itobert
Maury, who stopped low-toned prattle with Val
Courtenay to throw out interjectory comment, en-
dorsement, or approval.
The — th Cavalry was a crack regiment of noted
riders, with history-noted names; and its selection
for outpost and scout duty followed the promotion
20 CRAG-NEST.
of its colonel to a western brigade. Unsought,
and through fitness only, came Colonel Calvert's
transfer from infantry to the more congenial ser-
vice; his perfect knowledge of the Valley and its
people pointing to him as the man for that post.
'^My headquarters will not be far away. Cousin
Virginia; and I need not add that yon and your
fair aides will be ever welcome on your visits of
inspection. The regiment is marching there; but
we spurred ahead — "
"So plainly to our advantage, sir," Rob put in,
his mouth rather too full of waffle and honey.
"The colonel has made me his courier. Cousin
Val; and from now on I'll look down from a Mc-
Clellan tree on these poor infantry tramps."
"I promised your father to make a man of you,
when he fell into my arms at Cerro Gordo, Rob,"
the old man said with gentler voice; adding, as he
brushed back the flowing gray mustache: "And
I'll do it, if you ever grow out of being a big boy!"
"And you are with the — th Cavalry, also?"
]Mrs. Courtenay turned graciously to her stranger
guest, who had sat quietly through the meal, tak-
ing small part in the current of talk.
"Temporarily, I am on special duty, ma'am,"
he answered; adding quickly: "On detail for en-
gineer duty. But I had no idea of being first
ordered on such pleasant special service as this."
"Your mother's son must ever be a welcome
THE OLD VIRGINIA HOME. 21
guest at Crag-Nest," the old lady replied with a
smile. ''Cousin Wirt puts me under compliment
by permitting me to entertain you, even for the
brief two days."
But the man's eyes had again caught Miss
Courtenay's and some restraint and absence
showed in his perfunctory:
"You are too good, ma'am!"
"And of course you dance. Captain Ravanel?"
Miss Dandridge exclaimed. "You must; riding so
well as you do !" Then, catching Rob's wide stare
fixed on her, the younger girl blushed rosily at her
implied confession of prompt study of the stran-
ger's points, as she corrected herself: — "As Mr.
Maury says you do."
"Did I say that?" Rob blurted out, boy fashion.
"I don't remember it, but it's true though. I'm
no bad horseman myself, but I reckon Mr. Ravanel
can give me points."
"I have been riding longer than he has. Miss
Dandridge," Ravanel said with a smile that
showed white teeth under his drooping mustache
— "You ride, of course?"
"Oh! I dote on it," the girl cried naively; "but
I don't ride like Val— "
"I have been riding longer than she has," Miss
Courtenay finished for her. And again her eyes
met the man's; this time not dropping under them,
though the color deepened in her oval cheeks.
22 CRAG-NEST.
"1 am glad you do," he continued quietly to
Wythe; not even answering her cousin's look. "I
have a very clever, v^ell-gaited mare with the
wagons, and I hope you will permit me to offer
her and myself for your service. Miss Dandridge."
"Aunt Virginia is very careful about Miss
Wythe's mounts," Rob Maury put in abruptly —
"Your mare is a little fresh sometimes, Mr.
Ravanel."
"All young animals are apt to be, on occasion,"
the Carolinian responded quietly. "But, like her
master, Santee yields naturally to feminine hand.
You will permit me" — he turned courteously to
his hostess — "when I have become less of a stran-
oer?"
"But you haven't answered if you dance,"
Wythe persisted, "and I'm just sure you do!"
The man's eyes, absently gazing through the
wide window on the crescent moon just cresting
the distant mountain, never changed as he an-
swered half to himself:
"1 used to — it seems so long ago!"
And the far away look deepened in the eyes
that, had he turned them, might have seen Val
Courtenay's as well travel to the distant mountain
top, while the same far away look deepened in
them and her aunt spoke twice ere she recalled
herself with a little start.
"I beg pardon, aunt. Yes, Cousin Wirt, it will
THE OLD VIR(jHNIA HOME. 23
be delightful; and the War Department builded
wiser than it knew when it sent us protectors,
partners, horses and proffers of picnics, all in one."
"We should celebrate their advent," Wythe
Dandridge cried with a merry laugh.
"And so you shall, my dears," Mrs. Courtenay
assented cheerily. "As soon as the — th regiment
pitches its tents you shall have a dance of wel-
come" — she bowed gravely to the colonel — "if its
commander permits."
"On one condition solely" — the veteran an-
swered — "that my kinswoman walks the polonaise
with me. Jove! I have not danced one since that
night in Paris when the Marquis feted the Russian
Crown Princess. I was a slim youth then. Cousin
Virginia," — he went on, waxing reminiscent —
"but I remember my lavender silk stockings and
silver buckles; and how Madame la Marquise
honored the young American by giving him her
hand."
"Was she pretty, sir?" Rob Maury queried with
his now^ empty mouth half open, as if to gulp in
the answ^er.
"She w^as a grand lady, sir, with the blood of
princes in her veins," the colonel responded with
slight frown; but turning to his kinswoman: "A
great man, the Marquis, Cousin Virginia, in peace
as in war. Jove! it was he first taught my father
the true secret of filet de truite, a la sauce Tartare!"
24 CRAG-NE8T.
And the veteran pronounced the last word with a
fatness of rolled r's and an Epicurean gurgle that
would have made Brillat Savarin proud to hear.
"Those were rare days, when I hobnobbed with
royal descendants!"
"It was your right of birth, Cousin Wirt," the
old lady said mildly, but raising her full chin
proudly. "The blood of the Calverts and Cabbells
is the peer of any king's! So, as a daughter of
their house, I accept my kinsman's invitation and
will succeed Madame la Marquise in the polonaise.
— Bui I am forgetting, my kinsman, that all our
guests have ridden hard to-day." She rose from
her seat, bowing courteously to all in signal.
"Ezekiel! The gentlemen's candles! — Good-night
and pleasant dreams to all. As we are not on
duty, we will breakfast at eight."
The statue of shining ebony standing by the
ponderous, carved sideboard and reflecting in its
polished silverware vast wealth of shirt front and
standing collar above his blue dress coat, waved
stately right hand to the door and swayed his long
back with haughty bend, as he proclaimed:
"Da gennelmun's can'ls am served!"
The two girls stood a moment silent, after the
matron's gentle good-night kiss upon their fore-
heads; Val Courtenay's eyes fixed steadily upon
the now high-riding moon, her companion's star-
ing straight ahead at nothing, as the blood stole
THE OLD VIRGINIA HOME. 25
redder to her cheek. Then she woke with a little
sigh and exclaimed:
"Oh! Val, isn't he nice?"
Miss Courtenay came back slowly from the
mountain top, as she ansAvered rather wearily:
"Oh, yes, he's a nice enough boy — ^"
"Boy! Why Val, he must be thirty if he's a
day! And so you have met him before?"
"Oh! I thought you referred to my cousin,"
the other girl answered quietly. "Yes, I met Mr.
Ravanel in Kichmond — casually — when I staid
with Coulter Brooke."
"You didn't like him much," Wythe persisted
naively. "You didn't seem a bit glad to see him."
"You did; and plainly told him so," the elder
girl answered rather tartly. "No, don't pout,
dear; but you know I never gush over" — she hesi-
tated a moment, then slowly dropped the words —
"men I don't know. But it will be very nice to
have Bob so near, and useful as a walking stick
and riding beau."
"Yes, Bob is very nice," Miss Dandridge re-
plied, again looking across the room at nothing.
"But one might wish that he had a little more
style."
"There are better things than style, Wythe,"
Val answered seriously; some surprise creeping
into the eyes she fixed upon her cousin. "Bob
Maury is a gentleman in birth and in heart. When
26 CRAG-NEST-
you have been in society as long as I have, you will
learn that these are born, and unlike style, can
not be made. But come, dear, we're to breakfast
at eight and 'da ladies can'ls am served.'" She
passed her arm gently around the fair, plump
shoulders and bending dow^n pressed a genuine
kiss upon the pouting lips. Then the girls lit the
tapers in the grand old silver sticks on the side-
board and softl}^ passed up the broad, oak stair-
waj^ to Ihe u])per hall, across which came, in regu-
lar volleys, sounds most unlike that of
"The horns of elfl;ind faintlj' blowing,"
suggesting that Colonel Wirt Calvert might be
dreaming of too much filet de truite a la sauce Tar-
tare.
BY THE "DAUGHTER OF THE STARS." 27
CIIAPTEIi III.
BY THE " DAUGHTER OF THE STARS."
The regiment had arrived, gone into comfort-
able winter quarters and settled down to routine
of camp duty. But two days had been needed for
its officers to learn the road to Crag-Nest, where
senior and sub alike shared the boundless hospi-
tality of the lady of the manor, and the latter
especially had been welcomed warmly by the
young girls. Already there had been a riding
party to the river; Miss Dandridge mounted on
''Santee," with her master as attendant cavalier,
while Yal Courtenay rode her own fiery chestnut
beside Master Robert ^Maury's eager and restless
bay.
The always bright-tempered girl had been in
unusual flow of spirits these tw^o days; caused, as
Wythe hinted to her, by nearness of new scalps,
possible of affixment to her slim girdle; and on
this ride she grew almost reckless. Gully and
stream seemed nothing to her mettlesome horse;
and more than once she turned out of the road to
put him at a fence stiff enough to test the best
powers of her escort's mount. And after one of
28 CRAG-NEST.
these, as they galloped in chase of the pair ahead,
the boy suddenly said:
"Odd, Cousin Val; but you don't seem to like
him. — And women always do, too!"
"So I have — " the girl checked the involun-
tary exclamation; nodding toward the couple
ahead, as she finished with a laugh — "begun to
imagine, Rob. You must watch your 'Lily maid'
or she will be broidering stranger Launcelot's
shield, ere he rides away."
"Pshaw! You don't mean it. Cousin Yal!" the
boy blurted out, as a hot flush crossed his face.
"She doesn't come of a kind that are won without
wooing — "
"As you know. Sir Laggard!" she broke in
merrily.
"And the man's a perfect stranger," he went on
glumly. "But he's a deuced handsome and dash-
ing one, too; and he's such a perfect gentleman!"
"Is he?" For a second the girl's dark eyes lost
their merry gleam ; a bitter ring in her voice. Then
her laugh chimed out again, as she added:
"And he's so fond of his — 'ma'!"
"Yes, he is," Master Rob assented loyally.
^^You don't think less of him for devotion to his
family. Cousin Yal? And it's a good one, too.
I'm not much gone on Mr. Ravanel, for he's too
cold and proud to suit my book, and he thinks
privates no better than rice-field niggers. But he's
BY THE ''DAUGHTER OF THE STARS." 29
a man and a brave one, and a good soldier for all
that. By Jove! how he rides!"
The officer's black, chafing and lurching side-
ways under the strong bridle hand, suddenly
snorted and reared almost upright. But the
quick feet left the stirrups, the knees gripped the
saddle closer and the man threw his weight for-
ward, as the corded neck went straight up. And
with the one motion the heavy gauntlet in the
bare right hand crashed down between the horse's
ears. Even as the blow fell, the clear soft-toned
voice said, with the same drawing-room accent:
"Pull to the left, Miss Dandridge! Santee may
fret."
The black was down again; chafing under
punishment of the spur, but obedient to the seem-
ing light hand on the curb; and Wythe Dandridge,
her glowing cheeks and frank eyes speaking ad-
miration, loosened the mare's head and bowled
along confidently by her escort. Profile, pose and
rapid speech, unheard across distance, told plainly
that she was complimenting him, and again the
older girl's eyes darkened strangely, and the line
of her full lips grew straighter from their pressure
together. Then she answered lightly:
"A very Lochinvar, come out of the South!
Beware, Master Laggard, lest he mount our ^faii
Ellen' upon his horse's croup and ride away from
us all!"
30 CRAO-NEST.
She gave the chestnut his head and sped away
after the others to the turn of the road that showed
the Shenandoah just ahead. High beyond, the
Massanutten reared his towering forehead; haloed
now by golden reflection from the sunset; while
trending southward the lower crests of Three Top
mountain began to lose their profiles in the even-
ing shadow. Just at their feet the "Daughter of
the Stars" * bared her broad, smooth bosom to
the reflected glow, as though ready for the coming
gleam of her myriad-eyed mother.
The quartette drew rein, descending to the
bank; Val Courtenay's eyes bent steadily upon the
fast rippling stream; her escort's fixed furtively
upon the fair, flushed face of the other girl. Grad-
ually the restless mare moved upward along the
bank, and gradually — obeying imperceptible turn
of Maury's wrist — the restless bay kept even pace
with her. But, as he sat statue-like in his saddle,
Eavanel's gaze followed Miss Courtenay's toward
the stream, whether or not it went beyond herself.
Suddenly and with a half start, Val came back to
the present; her eyes turned toward her missing
cousins, who had disappeared around the turn of
the bank — then resting in surprise upon her sole
companion. He too came back to himself; and, all
society man at once, he moved the black up abreast
the chestnut.
* Literal translation of the Indian name, Shenandoah.
BY THE '' DAUGHTER OF THE STARS." 31
"I fear it has seemed a little like intrusion, Miss
Courtenay;'' he said quietly, raising his hat, "but
my presence under your roof was the fault of cir-
cumstances rather than myself."
"As my aunt's guest," she replied coldly — all
her interest again seeming to center on the river—
"7 have no possible right to criticise. As her kins-
man's friend, you were doubtless entirel}' wel-
come" — there was almost imperceptible pause ere
she finished — "to her."
"I think I have the right," the man said gravely,
ignoring her equivoke, "to ask one question. What
was your ground for deciding that we should be
strangers?"
"Was it not sufficient that I so decided?" was
the girl's answer calmly given.
"No! Assuredly not," he retorted earnestly but
quietly. "Even the law grants the accused the
right to hear the charge against him and to plead
in his own defense. When a man is condemned
unheard by the lady who has said ■''
"What she prefers not to remember, her wish
should be the only law to ," again she made the
least perceptible pause — "the gentleman."
Fraser Ravanel looked steadil}^ at the half
averted face while he might have counted thirty;
no perceptible change showing itself on his own.
Then he said in low, even voice:
"I have always thought myself a man — I have
82 CMAG-NJSST.
believed you a woman, Valerie Coiirtenay. So I
speak to you now; not as society gentleman to lady.
When we parted that night in Kiehniond; when I
had asked for, and 3^ou had granted a pledge "
"Which 1 have said I would forget," she broke
in, her voice quivering, her eyes darkening upon
the river.
" Which you had taught me to expect; and
to which I claim I have forfeited no right," he
went on, ignoring the interruption, "I w^as cast
aside as a used glove; my letters first unanswered,
then returned unopened! Should not justice, if
not courtesy, grant me an explanation?"
"To what avail?" she queried, her face still
averted ; the bosom of her close fitting habit rising
and falling rapidly.
"That I may clear myself of unjust suspicion,"
the man answered firmly. "When one who has
ever kept faith with man and woman gives his
solemn pledge "
"He should keep it for at least an hour, Mr.
Ravanel!" Her face turned full to him; her eyes
steadily meeting his that never fell before their
searching accusation, although some wonderment
rose into them.
"I am waiting." His voice was not raised or
changed. "Please go on; you can not deny my
right to be curious, now."
"You can not deny my right to act as I did,"
SY THE ''DAUGHTER OF THE STARS." 33
she answered rapidly, ^'if you have memory enough
to recall that night at the station."
"I recall every instant of it," he said very gently ;
"how you looked and spoke at the ball; how you
were good enough to dance but once; how I pledged
my word never to dance again, until I might with
you; how we left the crowded room for the con-
servatory; how I there spoke words that "
"Had far better been left unsaid." She sat
erect in saddle; her cheeks burning, with her eyes
still fixed bravely on his.
"Perhaps," he answered low but firmly; "but I
must first ask you to prove that, as far as I am
concerned."
"What need?" she answered more hotly; the
swell of her bosom more rapid. "I retained my
eyesight that night, even if you lost your memory.
But we are in the mountains, and we are playing
at society. Let us end the comedy and rejoin my
cousins."
As she spoke she turned her horse's head
quickly; but with equal swiftness the black barred
her way.
"One moment first," the man said gravely. "It
is no comedy to me; nor are the scenes of my mak-
ing. But you, Valerie Courtenay, were the first
woman to whom I ever spoke serious word of love;
you make yourself the first lady whose command
I have disobeyed. No man of my race has ever
3
84 VRAG-NEST.
proved disloyal to his plighted word. I were dis-
loyal to them and to myself, did I not demand
something more definite than this merely hinted
charge!"
The girl's lip curled and her voice was hard
that scoffed:
"Keally, sir, you are a better actor than I had
suspected."
"Possibly," he answered quietly, but more
rapidly, "for I feel as I act. I am no child; you no
woman to speak lightly such words as you once
said to me. Why should we throw away what
might be precious to us both, when a single word
from you might clear up a hideous mistake that
comes between uts? Valerie! Through all these
many months; through silence, even contempt, I
have never doubted you. No! do not speak! Had
I, my self respect had never let me allude to the
past, far less plead for the future, as I do now."
Once more the girl's eyes fell before his earnest
gaze, resting on — if not seeing — the far rolling
river. Once more the rapid movement of her
bosom spoke the hot tumult within; but the full
lips pressed firmly together, and the clinch of her
hand upon the rein bore her spirited horse some
paces backward. But she spoke no word; and
again the man — low and rapidly, and with some-
thing like pity in his voice— said:
"Do not be afraid to speak ! Anything is better
BY THE ''DAUGHTER OF THE STARS." 35
than this silence; anything more just to me and to
— yourself!"
"What need?" the voice was scarcely hers in
its tremulous hardness; "you must remember that
night!"
"I have told you I do," he answered. "When
you left the ball room, I said I would see you at
the train. There I slipped the rosebud into the
little hand that spoke farewell so loyally; the
train that bore you from me moved rapidly awa}^,
but left me full of joy and hope."
The girl's lips quivered as she still looked at the
river. Two deep red spots rose to her cheeks and
something like a sob seemed to rise into her throat;
but she bravely conquered herself, saying only:
"Was that all?"
"That was all," he answered firmly, "save that
you went from me, either to sport with, or
strangely to misjudge me. If I speak falsely, by
your truth to your own womanhood, I demand that
you prove it!"
A changed woman turned in that saddle; her
form erected and her glowing eyes fixed upon his
with glance as proud and stern as his own. The
red had gone from her face, but left it firm as
pale, as with steady voice she answered:
"I have sought, honestly, to avoid this expla-
nation and yourself equally. You taunt me with
injustice; and demand, by my honor and self
56 CRAG-NE8T.
respect, the brutality of words! Very well; you
slioll have them. That train you saw whirl me
away, soon backed swiftly into the depot, opposite.
From its window, a chance glance showed me an
incoming train. From it stepped a — lady. A
gentleman scanning the train approached eagerly.
There was surprised recognition — joyous greeting.
An instant, and her head was on his shoulder —
his arms about her!"
Pale, with compressed lips and brows con-
tracted, over eyes that gleamed back almost
fiercely into hers, Fraser Ravanel sat motionless
in his saddle, with never a word of reply. So, for
what might have been many seconds. Then the
man, all himself once more, backed his horse from
her path as he lifted his hat with graceful sweep
and said in his soft, drawing-room voice:
"We will hunt for your cousins. Miss Courte-
nay."
A BIT OF SAGE ADVICE. 37
CHAPTER IV.
A BIT OF SAGE ADVICE.
The ball to welcome its new military neighbors
was in mid revel at Crag-Nest. The house had
been so arranged as to give the most space possible
to the dancers; tightly drawn tent flies, draj)ed
with borrowed flags, enclosed the wide verandah
and formed a cosy supper room, where a buffet,
amply filled with solids and sweets, and majes-
tically presided over by Ezekiel, in even more
ample show of linen, tempted old and young in in-
tervals of talk or dance. The glassed conserva-
tory — Mrs. Courtenay's pride and solace, in those
intervals when her hospitality took vacation from
very lack of material on which to lavish it — opened
inviting doors upon this improvised supper room ;
and its cool walks, bordered with tall, tubbed gar-
den plants and some rare exotics, lit by softened
gleam of swinging lamps, enticed more than
one waltz-w^earied couple to seductive seats in
shadowed corners.
Colonel Calvert had walked "the opening
polonaise" of the fete with his stately kinswoman;
her severe black costume relieved for the occasion
by soft falls of rare old lace, unique of design and
time-shaded from amber to rich coffee color. And
S8 CRAG- NEST.
a gracious pair they showed, those relics of the
good old times; merry, calm and grand, through
their rhythmic walk, with best adherence to time
permissible under coercion of an improvised or-
chestra — two fiddles, flute and guitar. Grave,
watchful and yet with nearer approach to tremor
than ever hostile charge had brought him, the
colonel led the dance; his step measured, his head
erect above the deep, inflated chest; and his bows
perfection. And his partner's pace was measured
stateliness, equal to his own; serene pleasure
seated upon her strongly marked features, now
softly flushed with pleasurable thought of joy to
others at her bidding. Then — the polonaise com-
pleted and the lancers danced, "just to break the
ice, you know," as Rob Maury explained — the
negro fiddlers struck up a rattling waltz and eager
beaux sought no unwilling partners. Gray shell-
jackets, orange trimmed and yet unsmirched with
powder and camp smoke, contrasted prettily with
soft dresses of the girls; for, so early in the war no
scarcity was felt, even in matter of dress, and the
guests embraced the whole higher population of
the lower Valley accessible to call. Fair faces and
graceful forms showed on every hand; the varying
types proclaiming descent from many a different
stock; but — brunette or blonde, matron or maid —
each woman present showed the ease of access to
"the best society," and the nameless charm ol
A BIT OF SA(,'E ADVICE. 39
gentle breeding gave a tone to the whole affair, too
often missing in more ambitious congregations of
some great city's "leaders." Nor were the men
lacking in that courtliness and deference to sex,
typical of old Virginian days. The undecorated
jacket of the beardless youth, the star-decked coat
of the chevroned officer, alike covered the best
blood of the Old Dominion; for the — th Cavalry
was truly a corps cVcJUe, and sire and son of that
day made practical the idea of the German poet:
Honor to woman! To her it is given
To garland tlie eartli witli the roses of heaven!
Waltz, quadrille and lancers had succeeded
each other, soft speech from bearded lips had
brought the pleasure-flush to delicate cheeks;
and already the polished, bald forehead of Eze-
kiel and his household staff gleamed with shinier
ebon, from the moisture of grateful exercise. But
'^the labor we delight in physics pain;" and the
butler of Crag-Nest grew less stately — indeed al-
most condescended to graciousness — under con-
sciousness of pleasure-giving, as viceroy of that
house's head.
"One shabin' ov da ham, Morse Wirt!" he plead,
holding back the plate for which the veteran ex-
tended his hand. "Miss 'Ginia raised da pig, sah;
an' I'be seed to de curin' mysef! Jess a shabin',
sah; ter gib da ellerment fur da bone-tukkey."
40 CRAG-NEST.
A dexterous twist of the slim, keen carver curled
the rich, red meat across its back as the negro
spoke; and he extended the plate with a bow in
which grandeur and gratified pride bore equal
part.
"Yes, Cousin Virginia," the colonel went on—
not forgetting his grave bow of acknowledgment
as he took the plate, "I repeat that no home in the
Valley — I might add, in all our state — can equal
Crag-Nest for its combination of home-comfort,
old-school courtliness and generosity of welcome.
Why, were poor Courtenay looking down upon us
now, even that prince of entertainers could ask
no addition to this scene. It makes me young
again! It makes me i^rouder of my boys, to see
that they need as little disciplining for the parlor
as they do for the field. Jove! I would not scruple
to order a chance detail from the — th to fall out,
and carry them to a soiree at the Marquis' palace,
without a word of warning!"
"You are right, kinsman," the hostess replied
with a half sigh. "I have heard slurs upon us for
our state-love and for our assumed superiority.
But is it assumed, or actual? Look over these
youths — boys, some of them; and tell me if the
mothers of any state send more precious 'food for
powder', or send more bravely and willingly, for
duty's sake!"
"None!" he answered sonorously, with swift
A BIT OF SAGE ADVICE. 41
sweep aside of his mustache. "In this home-
brewed punch I drink to these mothers of noble
sons. Scoffers call our state the mother of presi-
dents, Jove! they will learn to respect her as the
mother of soldiers!"
A gleam of sadness swept across the matron's
face, glowing responsive to his words, as she an-
swered :
"Is ever before have I so regretted, cousin, that
there was no heir to Crag-Nest! And yet, what
horrid gaps this war may make in all Virginia
homes. Think of the mourning left from Ma-
nassas!"
''Diilce ft decorum r^ the soldier quoted gravely,
setting down his emptied glass, not without a little
smack of the mustache-hidden lips. "Bellona is
the twin of sireless Mors, Cousin Virginia. Revo-
lutions are not made with rose water; and this
one is against a race akin to us; as staunch and
stubborn as ourselves — although we have the
right to fight for. Some of these youngsters will
drop out of our ranks — many a one will leave his
legacy of sorrow and tears behind; but each will
leave also his legacy of glory for his own name, and
of incentive to his comrades who remain! They
arc a splendid set of fellows! Jove! I do not be-
lieve any Washington soiree could equal their
natural ease and elegance. My old comrades at
St. Cyr had equal outside polish; they never
42 CRAO-NEST.
equaled those inner graces of head and heart,
born with these boys of mine!"
"There is the most disiinguc man present," Mrs.
Courtenay answered; adding with half regret, half
wonder: — "And he is not a Virginian."
"He is first cousin to it," her kinsman replied,
with a thoughtful twist of his mustache tips.
"South Carolina is most like us, of all the Con-
federacy; only she is a trifle hide-bound and be-
lieves no state equal to her. A good fault for a
soldier-producing countrj^, cousin. And, besides,
Fraser IJavanel was educated in France, at U Ecole
Polytccliniqiic.''
"And he seems to admire Wythe very much,"
the lady retorted, more gravely than relevantly.
"Jove! I should order a court of inquiry on
him if he did not," the veteran answered with a
smile. "And now, Ezekiel, just another scrap of
that chicken-salad and a shaving of ham!"
"Oh! Cousin Wirt, isn't this just too nice a
dance?" W^ythe Dandridge cried as she came up
radiant, flushed and leaning on Mr. Kavanel's gold-
embellished sleeve. "But I must have some
lemonade. Give me a glass. Uncle Ziek; quick, for
I'm so thirsty."
"Try this punch, my dear," the colonel an-
swered, handing her a brimming glass. "Lemon,
rum, tea, cognac and champagne; the very Regent's
receipt the Marquis gave my father, the year I was
A BIT OF SAGE ADVICE. 43
born!" And Sir Charles Grandison had made no
grander bow than that the veteran bent over the
thin glass proffered to the young girl.
"Your home is perfection, for entertaining, Mrs
Courtenay," Ravanel said easily. "Ma is very
proud of her wide rooms, overlooking the Battery,
with Charleston harbor stretching away to the
ocean. But, to us from the lowlands, the grand
old mountains out there are even grander; and this
glorious air is a real tonic."
"I rejoice that you like the Valley, sir," the old
lady replied half absently; "but I remember how
lonely your mother must be, in her seaside home,
if you are her only child."
For an instant only, the man stood mute; then,
flushing hotly, he answered rapidl}^:
"Yes, ma'am; I am my mother's only child!"
And Val Courtenay, leaning upon a burly
major's arm, passed near enough to catch the
words, and answer rather at random to her escort's
glowing compliment, as her aunt waved her fan
with old school grace as accent to her words:
"And I can realize how justly proud she must
be of you, sir."
But the girl's face grew dark and stern, and
her eyes — droj)ped on the floor — had an evil gleam
in them, as the old lady's praise fell upon her ear.
And the blood surged tingling toward her brain,
as the bright supper room changed for her to a
44 CRAG-NE8T.
dingy, smoke filled railway station; and memory's
cam( ra held up the bold negative of a pale faced
girl, crushing a white rose in her clinched hand,
as she saw a tall, graceful man bend his head and
press the lips of the eager-seeming woman clasped
in his arms! And, as she raised her eyes, Val
Courtenay felt that man's full upon them; while
Wythe Dandridge, refreshed by the colonel's pre-
scription, cried to her:
"Oh! Yal, isu^t it too nice? And Mr. Eavanel
declares he doesn't dance well! You know if he
used to; and I'm sure he must!"
Herself in a moment, the older girl slammed
memory's camera close shut; the man before her
was an every day acquaintance at once, and her
voice wholly indifferent as she answered:
"I believe Mr. Eavanel was considered the best
dancer in Richmond."
"Which reminds me that I should claim you
quickly. Miss Dandridge, before his prowess cap-
tures my waltz with you," the burly major broke
in. And next instant the young girl — her hand
slipped into the speaker's arm, as she moved to-
ward the dancing room — turned a glowing face
over her shoulder and cried:
"Oh, Val! make him dance again, then! You
can have the second from this, Mr. Ravanel."
Only the four stood near the buffet; the colonel
and the hostess facing them; Val Courtenay and
A BIT OF SAGE ADVICE. 45
her dismissed lover facing each other with perfect
nonchalance in seeming, but wary watch in either's
eyes, as in the trained fencer's. A second's
silence; then Kavanel's voice fell soft and low upon
the girl's ear:
"I were indeed recreant knight did I refuse to
lift that gage, Miss Courtenay," he said. "Will
you risk my want of practice, and dance with
me?"
Never hesitating one instant, but with closer
pressure of her lips and slight paling of her exer-
cise-flushed cheeks, Val Courtenay answered
slowly:
"I do not fear your — want of practice, Mr.
Ravanel."
"And you will dance?" he cried more eagerly.
"I am under my own roof; you are my aunt's
guest," she replied, so low that only the man
caught the words, as she turned from the others
and let her fingers barely touch the arm he
had proffered as eagerly as he spoke. "As her
representative, I should regret an ungracious act,
even did inclination prompt it."
He halted an instant. Then his lips set tight
under their drooping black fringe, and he moved
on again toward the music. Neither spoke word
more as his arm passed about her slim waist and
the pair glided out amid the dancers. One brief turn,
and the burly major swung Wythe full against the
46 CRAG-NEST.
graceful moving pair; even the Carolinian's strong
arm and dexterous guidance failing to avert col-
lision. But as they recovered poise, Val Courte-
nay stood free of his encircling arm, smiling
quietly at the major's warm excuses; while Wythe,
her eyes dancing and her cheeks aglow, was crying:
'•Oh! aren't you ashamed, Mr. Ravanel? You
do dance as well as you ride!"
"That's saying a great deal. Miss Wythe!" Rob
Maury puffed out, as he ran up mopping his brow.
"May I have a turn?"
But Wythe's blue eyes were still upon the other
man's and, his making the query suggested by his
words, he answered for her:
"I believe Miss Dandridge promised me."
Only a nod at Rob was her reply; her hand
upon the Carolinian's shoulder and her little feet
flying in time to those of the best partner she had
ever met. And Val Courtenay's eyes moved from
the fair, joyous face to the dark, stern-set one, with
the pity in them changing to angry contempt as
she caught his almost whisper:
"/ have kept my pledge!"
"And may I hope. Miss Courtenay — ," the
major began. But Val — coming back to society
in view of impending martyrdom — smiled sweetly
on him as she put her hand on Rob Maury's
shoulder, saying:
"So sorry; but I promised my cousin!"
A BIT OF SAGE AD VICE. 47
"That fellow, Ravanel, does everything well!"
Rob puffed, as he dodged unskillful dancers. ''By
jingo, cousin, you and he moved as if you were
made for each other!"
The girl's feet were suddenly still; her slim
hand slid into the boy's arm, and she said rather
wearily:
"It is so warm! Let us go on the piazza a
moment."
The violins still scraped merrily to twang of
the guitars, a half hour later; but mortal feet are
not really winged, even in youth, and at last Wythe
Daudridge wearied in the flesh — whatever she
might have done in spirit — of her new found part-
ner. Eager and flushed, she was listening naively
to the pleasant sound of his low-voiced narration,
as they strolled through the supper room, past the
wide doors of the conservatory and down the
narrow walk between the tubs. The place seemed
deserted; their slow-moving feet making no sound
upon the plank. Suddenly, just at its turn, voices
fell clear and sharp through the scented air. A
woman's was saying, rather wearily:
"Love is ever but a chance. One should be
very sure before confessing; doubly so, before pro-
claiming it! And you are so young."
The Carolinian halted, quickly as at command;
his face grave and stern, as his glance swept
rapidly his companion's. Its flush had gone; a
48 CRAG^'EST.
wondering query rising in its place; but ere he
could turn, the man's rapid answer came:
''Young! Love like mine is born old! You
know it has lived for years! You know how deep
and true and honest it is! You must understand
me! — And I tell you, I must have an answer! 1
must know if lie is in my way! I tell you I begin
to hate — Ravanel!"
Wythe Dandridge's eyes, wide appealing out
of her now ashen face, met those of the man be-
side her. They were glinting with an ugly light;
his lips drawn in and his cheek as pale as her own.
But he faced quickly for the door, bending his head
as he whispered shortly:
"Come! We are de trop here!"
And the girl, resting heavily on his arm, fol-
lowed his stronger will mechanically as a low,
mocking laugh and well-known voice followed
them:
"Nonsense! You will learn that I am your
truest friend! Love is a delusion, Rob. I know,
for I am old enough to be your — aunt!"
UNDER THE STUAIN. 49
CHAPTER V.
UNDER THE STRAIN.
Almost two years had passed since Mrs. Courte-
nay's ball for the — th Cavalry ; years of which the
weeks made history so fast, that not even the worst
sufferers by its making could count its mile-stones
in swift rush by them. Seven Pines and Seven
Days had told their tales of strategy and blood
and constancy. Riddled Fredericksburg now sat
widowed, amid her desolated fields. Twice had
the "bare-footed boys" crossed the historic river
and marched almost greedily to the feast of death
awaiting them on Korthern soil; twice had they
marched back from carnage that, typing the hero-
ism of both sides to it, was yet void of real result.
The meteor campaign of Stonewall Jackson had
made the Valley its deathless name in chronicle;
but, too, that fateful blow had fallen which struck
closest to the heart of the South, and left the name
of Chancellorsville a synonym for woe!
The dull echo of the guns at Vicksburg was
heard no more; silenced for aye by that capitula-
tion which, close following the retreat from Gettys-
burg, made the national day a veritable dies irae
for the South.
And now the Valley of the Shenandoah had
4
50 CRAG-NEST.
been plowed by hostile batteries; furrowed by the
flying hoofs of Federal and Confederate in turn,
as raid and campaign came thundering down its
defiles, only to be hurled back by the stubborn
constancy of their defenders.
Winchester, the once glad queen of the lower
Valley, had fairly earned her title of the "race
track," given her by General Crook; each height
and streamlet for miles around her now made
classic by daring dash or stubborn combat; her
fair fields, one straggling cemetery for the name-
less and the noted dead; her very streets blood
spattered and her house fronts bullet scarred,
from many a rush through them of pursuer and
pursued. Yet, with that filial love for the mother
town, peculiarly Virginian, the women of Win-
chester — and only they were left with youngest
stripling and the very aged — sat by their desolated
hearths and, almost hopeless, still hoped on.
Worse still, if possible, was the plight of those
homes in the Valley, more scattered and remote
from the sympathy and encouragement of closer
contact; for the scythe of the sword had harvested
well. Broad fields, late smiling with plenty,
stretched away blackened and bare; tall barns,
late filled with food for man and beast, swung
open doors before their emf)tiness, where indeed
the torch had left them more than charred
skeletons. Stock and implements of production
UNDER THE STRAIN. 51
had alike shriveled in the red flame of war; and
many even of the old family servants had followed
the Will-o'-the-wisp, misnamed Freedom, leaving
the women-tenanted homesteads pitiably helpless.
Crag-Nest was scarce exception to this general
rule; albeit the strong character and clear com-
mon sense of its mistress — aided by unusual
storage of supplies and by the steadfast fidelity of
old Ezekiel — had so far kept the war-whelped wolf
somewhat farther from the door.
Heedless alike of advice from friends and ur-
gence by relatives, Mrs. Courtenay had remained
amid her lessening household gods; and there with
her now were Val Courtenay and Wythe Dand-
ridge, the old negro and his aged wife completing
the household. Little change showed in the
matron's face or figure; the sti'oug lines of the
one perhaps a trifle deeper, the outline of
the other no less firm and erect, albeit the plain
bhick dress showed somewhat the touch of time.
The elder girl, more grave and thoughtful as a
rule, still upbore bravely under the pressure; the
old time flashes of her saucy merriment sheering
through the gloom about them. But Wythe, in
her childlike simplicity of nature and her more
matured personal charm, showed more plainly re-
sults of ''time and the hour."
Gay and grave by turns, she gave way not in-
frequently to possession by the ''blue devils"; and
52 CHAG-JS'EST.
more than once Val had found her in floods of
bitter tears, which only strongly worded remon-
strance had turned away from the straight road to
hysterics. Pale and with more distinct lines
beneath her appealing eyes, Wythe was a more
attractive woman than in her baby-beauty days,
when the — th Cavalry had ridden so gaily to the
mountain.
But the most changed part of that household
was the whilom stately Ezekiel; gorgeous no
longer in his brass-buttoned swallow-tail and
wealth of immaculate linen, but replacing both by
a doubtful hued army shirt; while the carefully
brushed but worn folds of the former were stowed
away in hiding in ''da loff ov da barn," only to be
donned on great occasions of advancing raid, or
greater ones of rebel yelling pursuit.
Neither of the girls had met their partners of
the ball since that eventful night; and one of them
had never voluntarily let the name of hers pass her
lips. In their own apartment, Wythe had some-
times introduced the theme, only to have it ab-
ruptly changed by her cousin with the curt truth
that ''there were more serious things to think of";
and now her lips also were sealed on the tacitly
tabooed subject.
The morning succeeding the dance the girl had
risen pale, sick and feverish; later taking to bed
with a sharp attack of what the country doctor
UNDER THE STRAIN. 53
pronounced "nervous fever; result of heat, over
exercise and excitement." Val, nursing her faith-
fully for weeks, had been glad of excuse for seeing
no visitors, save Eob, in his flying calls each day.
But the sick girl only grew restless and pettish,
when his messages were faithfully delivered; and
all her cousin's coaxing had only drawn from her
the stereotyped phrase: "There's no answer."
Then, one night the colonel rode over in hot haste
and bade them all farewell. A threatened raid
by Averell into Western Virginia had brought
orders to move at dawn; only temporarily the
veteran thought. But weeks passed; and then an
infantry regiment moved down the Valley, camp-
ing on the cavalry's old ground. Then came the
active movements of the spring, and the cavalry
was kept on the go about the border; so the women
saw no more of their kinsmen.
But in all those long months, Wythe Dandridge
never breathed to Val one word of her chance
eavesdropping. Gentle, affectionate, and yielding
as ever to her stronger cousin, she felt that she had
been slighted for her by the youth she thought had
loved her; and her pride waited vainly for some
confidence from the other side, which might give
her the whole story of his proposal to Val, which
she felt had been too lightly valued and scornfully
refused. So, when no such confidence came, the
girl shut up the memory in her sore little heart;
54 CRAG-NEST
drifting further away on a drearj^ sea of doubt and
vainly striving to give sliape to the Elmos-fire of
her false imaginings. And Val Courtenay — firmly
belies ing that the pure heart of her one cousin had
wandered wholly away from the other, in its reach-
ing for higher conquest of the man she herself had
once loved and, as she believed honestly, now
despised — waited for some word or hint that would
give her ground for serious warning. She had
even resolved, in her unselfish watch over her
weaker friend, not to spare herself, did it prove
needful to tell the whole story of her own trust and
of the bitter awakening from it. But word, nor
hint, came from the strangely closed lips of the
other; and a tacit compact seemed to raise itself
between the pair to ''let the dead past bury its
dead," after its own fashion and in cerements of
silence.
At first frequent letters came from Rob Maury
to his cousin, filled with query of, and messages to,
Wythe. To the former she could give no intelli-
gent reply; for the girl would listen dully to the
latter, only repeating her invariable formula:
"There's no answer!" So, gradually, the letters
grew less frequent; finally ceasing altogether
under pressure of distance, active campaigning
and other reasons, as Val told herself. For she
believed that the boy, like herself, had at least
caught the drift of his sweetheart's preference;
UNDER THE STRAIN. 55
and the pride of their common blood sided with
and applauded his decision.
Of Rob, however, they still had frequent news
in his colonel's letters to Crag-Nest; and these
spoke of his good soldiership and refusal of pro-
motion, to stick to his position as chief of the scouts
organized by him. The letters also spoke some-
times of Captain Eavaners good work and upward
progress. But from neither direct did any letter
now come; Wythe having promptly returned two
bulky missives Eob first sent, and that young
gentleman having refrained from repetition. But
when the colonel's letters came, Mrs. Courtenay
would read them aloud and — naturally warming
to their theme, amid her present surroundings —
would descant volubly upon the grandeur of her
kinsman and the noble conduct of his brave
boys.
Not wholly cheery were those long evenings
around the lamp, in the now barer parlor of Crag-
Nest, as the three women plied busy needles on the
coarse fabrics for soldiers' needs, with tongues no
less busy, when their theme was the suffering and
trials of those for whom they wrought. But less
cheery still, to the two girls, were those evenings
when the colonel's letters came; for then the
matron, her needle laid aside, would read aloud,
re-read, and descant on them; her hearers sitting
with heads bowed over their work and needles
56 chag-xest.
flying swifter through it, but with wholly silent
tongues.
So the weeks of the summer of '63 dragged
their slow lengths along, strangely unbroken to
those patient-waiting women, save by rumor of
distant strife, and by occasional sounds of distant
cannonading, dully echoing from further down the
Valley. But one bright, crisp morning Ziek ap^
peared before his mistress, garbed as of yore, save
for the frayed edges of his huge standing collar;
his great eyes rolling with excitement as he cried:
"Da's comin'. Mis' 'Ginia, an' I tinks I better
mount Selim an' reckonloiter 'em up da road."
Permission given — for it was the faithful
black's habit thus to scout, before each advance of
friend or foe — Ezekiel was soon galloping up the
Winchester pike, upon the lank mule, now sole
component of the Crag-Nest stud. For the slick,
horses had long since been impressed for artillery
need; and Val — not without secret and bitter
tears shed upon his neck, embraced by her fair
arms — had long since sent her gallant chestnut
to Kob, with a brief line to urge him to use the
horse as a man should in his country's need.
VARVim^ VISITATIONS. 67
CHArTER VI.
VARYING VISITATIONS.
Once more the lady of Crag-Nest and her two
girls waited expectant on the old porch, gazing
across the neglected lawn, to the now broken fence
and half dismantled gate. About the porch, and
the steps leading to it, stood tubs and pots, lifted
from the now unsashed conservatory; but some
nameless sympathy showed between the plants
and their changed mistresses, for they seemed
weaker, less thriving and somewhat uncared for
in the garish, summer sunlight.
And as the expectant women waited the return
of their faithful old courier, the sound of many
hoofs advancing rapidly broke upon the air, draw-
ing nearer and nearer, until whirling dust clouds
showed about the turn of the hill beyond, and
through them emerged the head of a cavalry
column. With clatter of hoof and clank of ac-
coutrements, the column — a considerable body —
came on and passed the gate; three riders drawing
out from its head and turning in toward the house.
"Welcome, my kinsman!" Mrs. Courtenay cried,
running down the steps with outstretched hand
and glowing face, as she recognized Col, Calvert.
A moment later, the veteran threw himself
58 CRAG- NEST.
from bis horse with the agility of a younger man;
but still stood erect by his bridle until his com-
panion dismounted more slowly, when both threw
their reins to the orderly.
"Ah! Cousin Virginia! As ready of welcome as
ever," the colonel cried. "But you know the gen-
eral, of course. You too, my fair kinswomen," he
added to the advancing girls, as he bent his tall
head over the old lady's hand; then turning to
sweep both fair foreheads with his grim mustache.
"Yes, indeed!" his companion cried with a
merry laugh, as he too took the matron's hand.
"He were a sorry Virginia trooper that did not
know Crag-Nest and its mistress!"
"She were a sorry Virginian, General," the old
lady answered with stately courtesy, "who did not
feel it honor to welcome one of your name and race
under her poor roof. Will you come in and rest
a while before luncheon?" she added with a tele-
graphic glance of warning to Val.
"Thank you, we really have no time. We are
on a forced march," the general answered
promptly. "But zounds! Colonel, I do envy you
the perquisites of that gray mustache! Would I
could change it, young ladies, for this foxy one of
mine^ — with the conditions!" And the general's
jovial laugh rang out clear, as he stroked his huge
brown beard with one hand and hitched up his
sword belt around his ample waist with the other.
VARYING YISTTATIONS. 59
Rotund and short-necked, but with huge depth of
chest and vigorous frame, the noted cavalry chief
still looked everj inch a soldier. Port and feature
alike showed habit of command; and the jovial
kindliness of the face spoke out from firm and
resolute feature and clear, keen gray eyes. The
mouth was hidden b}' the long reddish mustache
that met the heavy beard sweeping half over his
chest;, and his raised hat showed ruddy masses of
hair of similar hue. His dress was the simple
shell jacket and high boots; the only rank-marks
the three stars and wreath upon his collar and the
flowing black plume, caught with a star.
"You have heard the news. Cousin Virginia,"
the colonel said as his comi)anion's laugh died out.
"You know that we have been beaten back from
the very edge of a comi^lete success?"
"We have heard it all," the matron said
quietly; "Gettysburg, Vicksburg — all! God's
ways are the best. Cousin Wirt; but it is very
bitter."
"It is all in the fortunes of war, kinswoman,"
the old man answered. "I am not so sure that Vol-
taire was wrong; and those fellows at Gettysburg
certainly had the heaviest battalions. But I
asked the general to stop with me a moment and
advise you to take shelter in Richmond."
"Yes; he is right," the general cried bluntly;
"Crag-Nest is very exposed and on the direct
60 CRAG- NEST.
highway. We do not know surely, but I think,
for a while, gray jackets will be scarce in the
Valley."
"Are you not to camp near us again?" Wythe
asked eagerly.
"No; we are force marching to mass with
Hampton," the general answered, with a meaning
look at the colonel. "We were the rear guard
crossing the river. We both think it safer for
you ladies to seek shelter within the lines."
"And wherefore? We have so far been able
to protect ourselves from Yankee intrusion — of a
personal nature. Even those who took our stock
and supplies respected our sex."
"Perhaps, my kinswoman," the colonel re-
plied with a shrug of his broad shoulders; "but
then they knew we were always close behind them.
From this out we may be "
"Close in front, with them behind us,'' the gen-
eral broke in with a laugh. "But seriously, my
dear madam, your kinsman and I stopped solely
to give you this warning. Better heed it, while
you can."
"This is my home; the only one I have known
since girlhood," the old lady said gently, but very
firmly. "It is the second home of these dear
children; and broken as it is — denuded of so much
that could make our friends happy beneath its roof
— we love it as we could no other."
VARYING VISITATIONS. 61
"We will be happier here with her, Cousin
Wirt; happier here with her than elsewhere," Val
Courtenay said advancing to her aunt's side —
"and as safe, under His care."
Colonel Calvert only pulled his mustache, per-
plexed; but the general said bluntly:
"Happier, perhaps. Miss Courtenay, but I doubt
the safety. This is not a question of Providence,
but of war's necessity. With the Valley overrun
and your friends out of reach, you Avould be cut
off and helpless. I strongly advise your removal
within our lines, as soon as convenient."
"You had best think seriousl}- of this, Cousin
Virginia," the colonel said gravely, "before it is
too late."
"I will think of it; and I thank you both for
your thought of us;" the old lady answered, her
head still erect. "But can not I induce you to
stay even for a glass of wine?"
"Impossible, madam. Colonel, we Avill have to
ride hard now to overtake the column," the gen-
eral answered; and with cordial adieux to the
ladies the soldiers were soon in saddle and gallop-
ing after the distant dust cloud. The three women
stood still and silent until they disappeared; then
Mrs. Courtenay cried :
"Why, girls! what want of thought! None of
us asked for Rob or Captain liavanel."
A vivid blush was Wythe's only answer; but
62 CRAG-NEST.
Val Coiirtenay, placing her slim hand on the blue-
veined one, said quietly:
"And shall we move away, aunt?"
"I have promised them," the old lady answered
quietly, "I will think about it. But come, my
children, while Crag-Nest is our home, we have
duties in it." And the three Virginian women
turned their backs upon the bright sunshine and
moved into the silent house. All that day and the
next Ezekiel did not reappear; and the lonely
women wondered at his absence. But they did not
grow uneasy, for there was no hint of enemy in
the Valley; and they merely supposed that, taking
the wrong road, he had missed the friendly column,
and had wearied out his old mule in search for it.
But in the diminished household his absence was
seriously felt, though the girls cheerfully did all
they could to fill his place and lessen the extra
burthens upon the old negress. But on the
second evening, speculation ran into uneasiness;
and the girls tramped several miles to the nearest
neighbor to make inquiries and organize a search.
It was quite dark when they returned without
news; and doubt and fatigue made the simple
supper quieter and more gloomy than ever before.
That nameless foreboding which oppresses some-
times without cause, seemed to weigh upon the
household, sealing their lips like lead; and the
women separated early. Kissing her aunt for
VARYING VISITATIONS. 63
good -night, Val Courtenay paused an instant; then
said gravely:
"I have been thinking over their warning, aunt.
As we walked across the mountain it seemed more
loneh^ and desolate than ever before. Per-
haps it would be safer to leave home — for the
present."
"In the hands of Providence, my child, we are
as safe in one place as another," the old lady an-
swered calmly. "Surely you do not fear these in-
solent invaders more than before. They have
visited us often enough to be too familiar to dread.
But, never mind. As I promised my kinsman; I
will think about it!"
In their own room, the girls were soon ready
for rest; and Wythe quickl}" yielded to fatigue and
slept deeply, if restlessly. Val placed her tallow
dip in its tall, silver candlestick upon the night
stand, her watch near it, and was about to follow
her cousin, when the latter tossed in her sleep and
spoke broken words:
"Come back to me — miss you so — know I need
you now — never loved Val — ," were the disjointed
phrases that fell upon her ear. Pale as her soft
gown, the girl bent upon the sleeper glowing eyes,
and a smile in which pity struggled with con-
tempt curled her lips.
"Poor little fool!" she said slowly to herself.
"Can she really love that — pshaw! It must be a
64 CRAG-NEST.
passing fancy only; but he — the double traitor, to
dare! And under this roof — before my very face!
— On! she can not, really^ — but poor old Eob? To
throw him over so, without one word!" — She
paused as the other spoke again — "That man's
name! Silly child, you scarce deserve my pity.
That, and my contempt I should keep for my-
self!"
Moving noiselessly, she passed to the old-time
bureau, candle in hand; softly opened a drawer
and took up a tiny casket. Then she stood star-
ing at it a while; swift emotions chasing each other
across her face as her eyes riveted upon the lid.
Raising them suddenly, the woman caught her re-
flection in the mirror, tall, weird and ghost-like in
the fitful candlelight; and vivid blush dyed the
oval of her face and slim, soft curves of neck, at her
own expression. Then the color died away, the
face hardened into resolution and the lips set
firm and almost cruel, as she sprung the casket's
lid with firm hand. From it she took a yellow,
time-stained note; a dance-card and a dry and
crumbling rosebud — v/hite once but now black,
powdering as she moved it with quick gesture of
disgust:
"Better one fool than two," she whispered
through set teeth. "Why should I keep these
milestones on my fool's errand of the past? What
is it to me who cares for him now ! Fraser Eava-
VARVING VISITATlONti. 65
nel, God knows I do not hate you ! May He forgive
me for despising you!''
One quick clinch of the slim, nervous hand, and
the dry bud was powder in it. Then slowly, but
not trembling, that hand held the little note and
dance-card in the sickly llame; the set lips once
more curling into contemptuous curves, as the
paper crinkled and blackened, then fell into a
little heap of gray ash.
Slowly the girl turned; once more set the
candle upon the stand, and placed the solid silver
extinguisher over the soft tallow. Then she sunk
noiselessly upon her knees, rested her forehead
upon the coverlid and prayed long and silently.
At last she rose, calm and placid; laid her head
upon the pillow and slept at once.
How long had passed she knew not; but sud-
denly Yal Courtenay found herself sitting bolt up-
right; wide awake and listening intently. Even
through the closed windows, the tramp of horses
came plainly to her ear; and they were rapidly
approaching the house. Springing up she threw
a wrapper about her, and passed to the window,
peering into the hazy gloom without. Then, her
eyes growing more accustomed to the dusky light,
she saw dim forms of horsemen moving swiftly up
the path; some halting directly in front of the
house, while others deployed right and left to sur-
round it. Plainly they were Federals, for she
5
66 CRAG-NEST.
knew that friends would take no such precaution;
but, ere she had time to move, a familiar voice
broke quavering upon the night:
''Mis' 'Ginia! Missus! The gennelmuns axes ter
be recebed.'-
Passing swiftly to the bedside. Val touched
her sleeping cousin lightly, saying, as she lit her
candle:
"Don't be frightened, dear. The Yankees are
here. Dress quickly and come down. I am going
to aunt."
She lit the second candle as she spoke and
passed from the room, the fitful gleam of the light
she held aloft projecting fantastic shadows across
the broad hall, that, in the midnight stillness, had
frightened many a woman, in other days than this.
But recking nothing of them, the girl passed
rapidly down the broad stair only to find the hall
door already open and the tall, erect, black figure
of her aunt, silhouetted against the gleam of the
candle sputtering in the night wind. And as she
hastened downward, Yal caught the clear voice —
no more perturbed than if ordering a glass refilled
at her own table:
"Ezekiel, why are you disturbing us at this un-
seemly hour? Dismount at once and go to your
own room."
"Dismount, sir!" echoed a clear voice from the
darkness without. There was a sound of quickly
VARYING VISITATIONS. 67
given orders; a clank of sabers in dismounting and
the click of four carbines brought to a ready.
Next instant heavy boots tramped up the broad
steps and the tall officer in blue, flanked by Ezekiel
on the left, stood facing the lady, within the taper's
feeble gleam; while just around it dimly showed
the muzzles of the carbines; and at the moment
Val Courtenay passed to her aunt's side, without
a word, but placing her hand quietly upon her arm
in token of support.
"What has come over you, Ezekiel?" Mrs.
Courtenay queried, calmly ignoring the enemy's
presence. "I send you on an errand, you stay un-
seemly time and return with strange men at mid-
night."
u 'por' da Lor! Mis' 'Ginia, I dunna mysef,"'
Ezekiel began, forgetting all his dignity in the
emergency. "Da Yankee gennelmuns jess nabbed
da ole man "
"It is not his fault, madam. Permit me to ex-
plain," the tall soldier broke in, not discourteously.
"We were hanging on Fitz Lee's flank; but his
rear guard, under that old firebrand Calvert, held
us off "
"Pardon me, sir," Mrs. Courtenay interrupted
with perfect calmness. "As a perfect stranger, I
may save you awkwardness by stating that the
gentleman you refer to is my kinsman."
"You have reason to be proud of him, madam,"
68 CRAG- NEST.
the officer replied, passing liis gauntlet over his
mustache to repress a smile. "Briefly, your peo-
ple outnumbered and outrode us; we were forced
to by-paths, picked up this sable gentleman, and
found him as well known to the country side as
your home is to us, madam. His detention is our
fault. We have information that old — ahem! —
Colonel Calvert, and perhaps bigger game, are un-
der your roof. The house is surrounded, escape is
impossible. We want them." So speaking the
officer advanced one step toward the door; the old
negro making quick side step toward his mistress
and promptly facing him.
"Stand aside, Ezekiel," Mrs. Courtenay said
quietly, "I can not see our late visitors. To you,
sir, I can only say that you are much too late. The
only occupants of this house are three ladies — all
unarme<l. I regret extremely that you did not
arrive while my kinsman and his friends were here;
for they had given you more fitting reception for a
soldier."
"I am extremely sorry, madam, to discommode
you," the officer answered quietly. "I am Major
Buford, of the — Pennsylvania Cavalry. I am in-
formed that these rebel officers are here; and even
at the risk of incurring your displeasure, it is my
duty to convince myself that I am wrong."
"And pray, sir, if my word be insufficient,
how do you propose to do this?" The old
VARYING riSITATTOXS. 69
lady's voice trembled slightly, but plainly uot
from fear.
"I regret that I shall be compelled to search
the house, madam," the ofiicer answered decis-
ively. '^I shall give you as little discomfort as
possible. Already my men are doing as much for
the outbuildings. Pardon me, it will not take
long.''
As he spoke he pointed with his sword to
lanterns flashing here and there about the open
barn and deserted negro quarters, and again rais-
ing his hat he moved one step toward the door.
The lady of the house stepped back from the
entrance, her right hand holding the candle
steadily aloft, while her left gently sought her
niece's, as though to restrain her.
"We are defenseless women," she said, with
much the air ''The Austrian" might have used
to the rabble in the palace; "the sole resistance
we can make is protest. If, sir, your duty forces
you to violate the proprieties of my home, I my-
self will conduct you. Come, sir; this is our draw-
ing room." She flared the candlelight into the
empty room, as the soldier crossed the portal and
dolTed his hat. "Valerie, my child, I must not
leave you alone; come with us."
"Pardon me, madam," the Federal said, glanc-
ing into every corner of the bare room, "but per-
mit the negro to pilot us. The gentlemen we look
70 * CRAG-NEST.
for are not apt to come for the asking. Our inter-
view might prove unpleasant, if nothing more, to
you ladies."
"In my husband's day," the matron answered
gravely, "he permitted no stranger to enter these
rooms unescorted. As his representative, I must
show you no less consideration. Come, sir. Time
must be precious to you, and we are wasting it."
She crossed the hall as she spoke, throwing wide
the door of her well-loved dining room; the Federal
at her right side, pistol in hand, and four dis-
mounted troopers with ready carbines bringing up
the rear.
So the strange procession passed the lower
rooms and clanked up the broad stairway; silent
and weird as the phantom host that leaguered the
walls of Prague. One after another the doors of
the vacant rooms were thrown wide by the firm
hand of their mistress, only to be proved bare and
tenantless to closest scrutiny. But reaching the
door facing the stair's head, Val stepped swiftly
forward and stretched her arm across the casing.
The officer, with quick gleam in his eye, made
movement to advance; but the girl, catching his ex-
pression, even in the dim light, answered it as
quietly as clearly:
"You mistake, sir. I only mean that this is a
lady's room." She rapped quickly on the door,
raising her voice as she finished:
VARYING VISITATIONS. 71
"Wythe, are you dressed?" For answer the
door • swung wide, and even the rough troopers
stared at the pretty vision of the fair girl within;
pale and wide-eyed, with golden hair rippling loose
to the knees of her dark gown. Timorously, but
with brave effort to be calm, Wythe stepped for-
ward and joined her kinswomen. But she carried
in her hand the tall silver candlestick, leaving the
room behind her in darkness.
A quick smile twitched the mustache of the
Federal soldier, but his eye never left the windows
reflecting the candlelight through the gloom, as he
said :
•'Your pardon, ]\Irs. Courtenay, but we must
search this room. The delay makes it possible
that our quarry is here."
For the first time the old lady's lips trembled,
and the angry flash came to her eye, as the full,
rounded chin raised higher, and she began:
"Sir! I have said that this apartment is — "
"Ours, aunt!" Val broke in quietly. "Wythe
and I will open our bureau drawers and hat boxes,
if these — " she paused before the word — "gentle-
men will stand here and cover us with their car-
bines!"
Suiting action to word, she made a quick sign
to the other girl; the two passed into the room,
placing their candles on the bureau and rapidly
opening the deep, old-fashioned closets and throw-
72 CRAG-NEST.
ing dresses and wraps hanging in them, out upon
the floor. Turning to the heavy, carved bedstead
they wheeled it away from the wall; and then the
elder girl turned to the quiet soldier at the door
and asked:
"You are satisfied, I hope, sir?"
The officer again passed his gauntlet swiftly
across his mustache; but he answered gravely and
courteously:
"May I enter one instant?" And not waiting
for permission he strode across to the window and,
raising the sash, peered below. Noting the sheer
drop, without cornice or foothold without, he
turned again to the hall; asked, by sign only, for
one of the candles and, raising it high above his
head, scanned the solid ceiling for trap-door, or
roof-scuttle. Seeing sign of none, he turned to the
matron and said quietly:
"You must comprehend, madam, how unpleas-
ant it is for us to have disturbed your rest and
made ourselves your unbidden guests. Duty,
though not always pleasant, must be performed.
And now, ladies, I will relieve you of our presence;
satisfied that our men are not here, at least in the
house."
"They are not here at all, sir," Mrs. Courtenay
replied haughtily. "Had they been, no daughter
of the Cabbells had misstated the fact. But I
must repeat my regret that they are miles away,
VABYIJ^G VISITATIONS. 73
with their commands; else your reception had
been more fitting than an old woman and two girls
could possibly offer. As your duty here is fin-
ished, I bid you good-night, sir! Ezekiel, attend
these gentlemen."
Ilis bow received by slightest inclination of her
stately head, the speaker moved to the stair head,
standing aside to let him pass; the black gravely
led the way down the dusky passage and the
troopers clanked down behind their leader. A
moment later the recall sounded without; the
scattered squads assembled for report of failure;
and then the party trotted briskly down the path
and were heard clattering along the hard pike
beyond.
"Oh! Aunt, how trying it must have been to
you!" Val cried, caressing the still grim old lady.
"But you must have known I would come; why did
you go to the door alone?"
"It is my place to receive all visitors to Crag-
Nest, my child, be they friends or foes. But — -"
her rare smile came to the firm lips — "you are
brave children, and do not shame your blood.
There are some hours to dawn; go to bed and sleep
away recollection of this — intrusion!"
She kissed both girls gently; but Wythe cried
suddenly :
"Oh! Aunt Virginia, they were right! We had
better seek shelter in the lines."
74 CRAG-NEST.
"Go to sleep, my children," was the quiet an-
swer. "I promised our kinsman that I would
think about it." She passed slowly down the
stair; her voice coming back to them in the quiet
order: "Lock the front door, Ezekiel, and go to
bed!"
THE FIRST QUARREL. 75
CHAPTER YII.
THE FIRST QUARREL.
Once more summer was smiling serenely upon
the Valley, ripening her sorely needed crops —
however Nature may have had cause to frown upon
man's brutalizing her fair domain with hoof and
steel and torch. For in the months between, the
old familiar battle-ground had had little rest; and,
while great armies watched each other elsewhere,
as bloodhounds in the leash, raid and incursion
from either side still scarred the bosom of the
"Daughter of the Stars."
Grant was now thundering at the Petersburg-
back-door of the coveted capital of rebeldom; but,
as diversion, Jubal Early had twice hurled Jack-
son's old soldiers across the Potomac — once threat-
ening Washington herself — then, in stern reprisal,
laying Chambersburg in ashes. But the wisdom
of Lee now calls him back to guard that teeming
granary, so vital to the needs of both their armies;
for the Valley must be held at any cost, at least
until those precious crops are garnered, and stored
beyond the reach of raid.
And now Sheridan — massing all force avail-
able in the lower Valley ^ — fronts Early; cognizant
as himself of vast results to come from his protec-
76 CRAG-NEST.
tion of it, or from the Federals forcing liini beyond
this fecund base of bread for country and for army
alike.
It is now mid- August, 1864, and the ladies of
Crag-Nest still sit in its barer halls, now overlook-
ing wholly waste fields and ruined outbuildings.
For, during all those intervening months, Mrs.
Courtenay had been "thinking about it," but had
never brought herself to leave that well loved roof.
Indeed, she rejoiced many a time that home love
had triumphed over discretion; for often the home
— converted for the nonce into a hospital — added
to the comfort, if, indeed, it had not saved the lives,
of sorely wounded friends; sometimes of maimed
and suffering foes.
For the grand hospitality that gave Crag-Nest
its fame of yore was drawn from that highest
source which teaches that the thirsting enemy be
given drink; and more than one blue coated raider
had limped back to camp, blessing the tender touch
of womanhood in that Valley home, and had sent
its fame to gladden anxious hearts about distant
fire-sides. But now the plants and shrubs — still
more neglected and dejected looking than before —
remained always out of doors; rough bunks and
cots, spread with clean but coarse sheeting, chang-
ing their late resting place to a real conservatory
for the sick.
Tenantless now, the prim white row of narrow
THE FIRST QUARREL. 77
beds still spoke readiness for the worst; while the
old lady and Val Courtenay paced the now dingy
piazza, with slow step and quiet talk.
''It will be a true pleasure, my child," the old
lady was saying, as she unfolded her well creased
letter and read with unaided eyes, ''to have our
kinsman as guest once more. See, he writes that
he commands a brigade under Early; and that he
will be in easy distance of the home."
"We may expect him by morning," the girl an-
swered absently ; her eyes fixed upon the tall, blue
mountain top she and another had once watched
from the window, with the moon upon it.
"Yes, in the morning, my dear; and Wythe is
now putting the finishing touches to their room.
Major Eavanel and Lieutenant Robert Maury, his
adjutant, will be with our cousin. It will seem
like old times, my child, to have the three under
our roof once more."
"Dear old Rob," Val answered earnestly, "he
must have proved quite a hero, to have promotion
forced on him against his will."
"He is of our blood, my dear, and naturally did
his duty," her aunt answered calmly, "and Major
Ravanel, too! Well, 'good blood can not lie.' I
wonder if he is as distingue as formerly."
"Doubtless," Val answered, forcing herself to
the brief reply.
"Of course, my dear." The old lady folded the
78 CRAG-NEST.
letter, placing it in the bosom of her worn black
gown. ''It is his right of birth. The Ravanels
are an old family, wealthy; and the major is an
only child."
The girl's eyes came back from the mountain
top, but looked straight ahead, as she answered
coldly:
"Yes, aunt; his ma doubtless is very proud of
Major Ravanel."
Something in the tone made the old lady cast
a quick, searching glance upon the speaker; but
delicate courtesy of the old school refrained from
comment, as the girl turned into the house with
the words:
''Poor little Wythe! I must go and look after
her."
She passed up the broad stair, the fading light
falling across a face calm but resolved; and, en-
tering the open room where her cousin, flushed
with exercise, was viewing her completed work,
she said quietly:
"Wythe, dear, have you finished?" But, her
own glance answering her question, she took the
other girl's hand gravely and led her to the win-
dow; both seating themselves in the low seat made
by its broad sill, as she added:
"It is a long time since these old rooms have
been used."
"Not since the — th Cavalry first came to the
THE FIRST QUAMREL. 79
Valley," the younger girl replied quickly. "Oh!
Val, how long ago that does seem!"
Miss Courtenay's face was turned toward the
far crests of the Massanutten. For a moment she
made no reply, speaking then with her eyes still
studying the mountain top.
"Wythe, I have never alluded to that time,"
she said gently; "but I have thought much of it
since."
There was no answer, in words; but an eloquent
one might have been translated from the other's
sudden flush and decided pout, had her cousin's
eyes been upon her. So, innocent of random shot
that told, the former went on:
"We will meet them again to-morrow morning.
I hope, Wythe, you will be considerate of Rob's
feelings."
"Are they so very delicate that they need nurs-
ing?" Miss Dandridge queried sharply. "If so.
Aunt Virginia might prepare a cot in the hospital
for him!"
The unusual tone and manner turned Val's
eyes from the crest to the speaker.
"I am surprised!" she said quietly.^ "You
sneer at Rob Maury as though he were a stranger
and an enemy, rather than the friend of your girl-
hood!"
"A woman's tastes may change, I suppose,"
was the answer, given with a pert toss of the fair
so CRAG NEST.
head. "I have always been polite and just to —
your cousin, I hope. He certainly has no right
to expect anything more."
"I am not sure of that, Wythe. He had at
least the right to expect cordiality of old friend-
ship; and, that failing him, to be told the rea-
son — "
''Young soldiers can usually supply their own
reasons for their acts," the girl cried, her cheeks
ablaze and her tiny slipper tapping angrily on the
floor.
"Proper pride — justice to you, might have pre-
vented his supposing that a passing fancy — "
"Passing fancy! — Well! — I think we had bet-
ter not discuss this further, Valerie Courtenay! I
don't know that I need any advice; and I'm very
sure that I have asked none!" And Miss Dan-
dridge rose from the window sill and stood angrily
facing her cousin; her graceful head thrown back
and her blue eyes lit with an angry light, that Val
had never seen in them before.
"No, Wythe," she answered quietly; "for the
first time in our lives, my little sister has shut her
heart to me. You know I have never intruded on
it; have never violated delicacy before. But, dear,
these are sad, dangerous days. Men are cut off
suddenly from those they love; and you would
never cease repenting injustice to a brave, true
gentleman — "
THE FIRST QUARREL. 81
"He's a perfect boy!" Wythe exclaimed with
much heat. "Pshaw! he doesn't have a feeling
deeper than tJiatP' and her rosy little thumb
marked a half inch against the elevated little fin-
ger. "As for justice, well, I should think he — Val!
We have been friends, almost sisters, so long. You
are older than I, but there are some cases where it
is best that advice should not be given until it is
asked — No; don't misunderstand. I have never
blamed you, dear."
"Blamed me?" the older girl's eyes widened in
amaze.
"No! You could not help it! You could not
prevent a man's fancy changing from one woman
to another; and the chance that threw Major Rav-
anel with me — "
"Wythe! What do you mean? What right
have you to dream such a thing!"
This time it was Val's face that flushed hotly;
its lines hardened and lips set firm, as the full bust
rose and fell.
"Dreams sometimes come true," the other girl
answered, tossing her head. "People should be
careful what they say, and where they say it, if
others are to be catechised. Major Ravanel and
I—"
She broke off abruptly before the quick, com-
mandful gesture. The other woman stood erect
now; her tall head towering above her friend and
6
B2 CRAG-NEST.
her voice cold and slow under coercion of her
strong will, as she said:
"Enough of this! I see now that I was wise to
refrain before; very foolish to have ventured now
one word of warning."
"I needed no warning, thank you." Wythe
spoke rapidly but defiantly; no yielding in her
tone, or pose, before the strong anger and reproach
of the other, as she added:
"The girl who needs one once, is — unfortunate;
the second time, she is — a fool !"
Val Courtenay's face was eloquent, if her lips
remained silent. Twice they moved, as though
about to answer; but the well trained will reas-
serted itself, and without a word she moved slowly
from the room and down the broad stairs.
Left to herself, Wythe stood erect and defiant;
a plump, blonde Pythoness for the instant. Then
the hot, flushed face changed; the red lips filling
to a decided pout, while a sort of wonder crept into
the wide blue eyes.
"I don't care," she cried aloud to herself.
"It's too bad! Val and I never quarreled be-
fore; but it's all his fault! The idea to be thrown
over like that, and then have her lecture me about
my injustice to him! I hope I was not mean to
Val. It is his fault if I was, and — I don't — I be-
lieve I don't care one bit!" And to prove it, the
spoiled child here dominated the newly asserted
THE FIBST QUABREL. 83
woman, and Wythe Dandridge — throwing herself
face downward on the colonel's freshly smoothed
bed — indulged in the solace of a good old-time
cry.
But the tears of pure-hearted girlhood are but
April showers; and soon the sobs ceased and the
girl jumped up, with the rather irrelevant excla-
mation :
''Lor! It's quite sundow^n; and what must my
eyes look like!"
But hasty application of cool spring water soon
made the pretty, blue optics themselves again;
and, after hastily smoothing the colonel's rumpled
coverlid, and taking a satisfactory look at her re-
flected self in the old mirror, Wythe ran down the
steps as though there were no such thing as w^ar,
foreign or domestic. She found Val, too, her self-
contained and placid self; and the frugal supper
passed as usual, with no restraint between the
girls from their first passage at arms. And that
night — when the matron kissed both and begged
them retire early to welcome their guests betimes
— Wythe slipped her hand into her cousin's very
gently; and the differing, yet loving, pair ascended
to their room without a word. Silently they pre-
pared for rest; but when the rosy, pleading face
of the younger — rosebud-fresh as it peered above
the snowy frill of her gown — came close to Val's
pale, thoughtful one, her long, graceful arms w^ent
84 CRAG-NEST,
out and took it to her bosom with the tender love of
motherhood; and her lips, now quivering, pressed
close upon the soft, fair hair before she said:
"You were right, and I wrong, little sister!
There are some things which we must leave
to heaven, and our own thoughts and hearts only.
But, Wythe, dear, we have had our first angry
word — and our last. I do not ask you to forgive
me, for I know you have already."
"Forgive! Why you dear old Val — ;" the fair
face was close against the dark one now and the
rosebud lips pressed the firm ones close and long —
"you have been everything to me; and I would not
have one reproachful look from you for the love
of every man in the army of the Valley!"
A I'ORTMAIT EXCHANGED. 85
CHAPTER Ylll.
A PORTEAIT EXCHANGED,
Next morning's sun was still young when
Colonel Calvert rode up the now" grass-grown ave-
nue from the broken gate; Kavanel and Kob Maury
following, and a courier behind them, and reined
up before the broad but rather rickety steps of
the well-remembered piazza.
But early as it was, the lady of the manor again
stood there with outstretched hand and gentle
smile to welcome them.
"Ah! Cousin Virginia! As ever, upon the ad-
vanced picket of hospitality," the veteran cried, as
he dismounted from his tall war-horse and strode
gaily up the steps; his long saber clanking at his
heels. And he bent his mustache to the white,
blue-veined hand extended graciously, as he added:
"But where are your fair young aides?"
"They are hastening your breakfast. Cousin
Wirt,'' the lady replied, as though a feudal suzer-
aine welcoming her liege lord. "Yet I fear it will
not prove all that we might wish for such welcome
guests."
"And I have brought them two most unwilling
captives," he answered with a laugh, as he turned
86 CRAG-JS^JSST.
to his courier and added in lower tone as the
horses were led away:
"The larger bag on yonr saddle, Conyers, is to
be given the old negro man at once."
"I am sure my cousin slanders you, young gen-
tlemen,'' Mrs. Courtenay said to the others, as she
gave them her hands. "Else our poor reception
of the past must linger with you still."
"The colonel knows we are only too glad to
come, always," Eob Maury answered awkwardly,
and with reddening face. "I only said that it was
my duty to stay with the brigade, because I'm so
green and am to act as its adjutant-general now."
"And I could never have suggested riding by
your gate, Mrs. Courtenay," the young major
added in his soft, quiet way, "had there not been
some urgent need for corrected maps of the by-
roads above — "
"Which can easily be made from here, if I may
occupy Crag-Nest with an armed force for one day,"
the colonel finished for him, as he rejoined them on
the piazza. "You see I assume command of my
brigade to-morrow; and this brevet captain" — he
laid his hand kindly upon Rob's shoulder — "also
has general orders to write, details to make and
all his plans to lay to catch Sheridan. But here
is our little Lily of the Valley!"
Verily Wythe looked the title, as she came into
the framing of the great door, more timidly than
A PORTRAIT EXCHANGED. 87
her wont; her eyes cast down and her cheeks show-
ing pale even against the ruffle of her pure white
morning-dress. Straight from the kitchen — where
heat and rapid aid to Val and the old negress
might well have flushed her — the girl's face re-
mained quiet and pale as she greeted the colonel
and felt his lips upon her brow, but it colored to
the root of her fair hair, as the Carolinian quickly
advanced and cordially extended his hand.
''I am so glad to see you again. Major liavanel,"
she said rapidh^, "even if your title is changed."
"Many things have changed since we last met,
Miss Dandridge," he answered quietly, "and not
all of them for the better — though you are one of
the exceptions."
"And I hope I am not unwelcome," Rob blurted
out, with lamentable want of tact for a brigade
officer. "You see, busy as we were, the colonel in-
sisted we should stop and — " He ceased abruptly,
blushing like a girl, as the awkwardness of his
own speech struck him.
"Aunt Virginia would never have forgiven
him, had he not," Wythe answered calmly, but not
looking at him. And somehow she chanced to
drop her handkerchief; and — stooping for it at the
same moment as the major — failed to see his half
extended hand, as she finished:
"And here is Val. She will be so glad, too!"
"Indeed I am!" that vounc: woman answered
88 CRAG-NEST.
for herself, coming out into the morning light, with
a deepened tint upon her cheek, for which the
kitchen fire might have been excuse. ''Cousin
Wirt, I began to fear you were indeed a deserter.
And you, dear old Rob! and with shoulder straps
at last!" She turned from the veteran's salute,
extending both hands to the boy; not moving her
handsome head, as she added: ''And I congratu-
late you, too, Major Ravanel, upon your pro-
motion."
"Which makes it all the more valuable. Miss
Courtenay," he answered, as he unclasped his
sword belt.
"Oh! let me take it for you, and hang it on the
rack!" Wythe cried, her blue eyes widening at
Val's warmth to one man and coolness to the other.
Her plump little hands captured the shining steel
scabbard; but his retained the belt, as the mock
contention carried them within the hall, toward
tlie many-antlered head that served for rack, just
within it. And the eyes of each cousin without
saw those of the other follow the maneuver;
though the lips of neither noted it.
"But this is no more gracious welcome," the
old lady exclaimed, "than we gave Major Buford,
of Pennsylvania, when he came hunting you and
the general. Cousin Wirt."
"We had a great laugh over that letter, Cousin
Virginia," Rob cried, "though we were too sorry
A PORTRAIT EXCHANGED. 89
the Yank did not find us really here. The colonel
read us your account, down at Petersburg. Why
you and Cousin Val acted like a pair of heroes."
'There was little heroism about it," the old
lady answered quietly. "And Wythe, too, behaved
beautifully, for a girl!"
And that young lady hanging the saber on the
antlers, blushed as she heard the praiseful words;
tinting deeper as her companion added:
"I am sure you always would. Miss Dandridge.
But you have not let your household forget me,
I hope, because I am unfortunate enough not to
be a Virginian."
"Indeed, I have not," she answered frankly.
"We have constantly spoken of you, quite as one
of us; even when we had no letters from Cousin
Wirt."
"I am sure you have," the man went on ear-
nestly. ^^You are the sort of Avoman any man may
trust. I have never forgotten your promise, that
night at the ball."
And Val Courtenay, following the older couple
through the doorw^ay, caught the last w^ords; and
across her now pale face swept the same expres-
sion of mingled pity and contempt that had
marked it, in the upper room, the previous after-
noon.
Complex indeed are the hidden springs that
move that machine of mysteries, a woman's heart;
90 CRAV-NE8T.
for — had her own life hung in the balance of her
truth-telling — neither one of that gentle pair could
have put into words the feelings in her bosom, as
Wythe caught the look that told she was over-
heard. Blushing deeply, but with head defiantly
erect, she spoke some commonplace to the hand-
some soldier beside her; but her own voice sounded
as meaningless to her as did the half-unheard reply
in the man's soft tone.
Just then, Ezekiel — with more collar than
usual rearing above the much-brushed blue coat —
announced :
"Da mistus's breckfus am served!"
The three couples moved into the bough-decked
dining room; and — appetite replacing analysis in
the young adjutant's mental outfit — the guests
were soon hw^j with the viands pressed upon them
by their gentle hostess. Rut it was a meal far
different from that last one — so clearly remem-
bered by them all — which the military trio had
eaten under that roof; far more different still from
what that matron's will had spread before her
guests, had Crag-Nest's larder compared, in any
sort, with the hospitable ambition of its mistress.
And yet, simple and meagre as that breakfast
really was, the men so plainly enjoying it had lost
all zest had they known they were assisting at the
sad rites over the last lone rooster on the place;
that the light eorn-waflfles and the yellow eggbread
A PORTRAIT EXCHANGED. 91
represented an unusual gap in the well-guarded
meal-can; and that their praise of old Esther —
helpmate to Ezekiel — should justly have fallen to
the fair hands and pleasure-glowing cheeks of the
young girls, who now sauced the viands of their
own construction with pleasant talk that echoed
nothing of the late awkwardness without.
"Ezekiel, the colonel's plate," Mrs. Courtenay
cried gail}', breakfasting herself only on a mufi&n
— "Just one joint of the chicken. Cousin Wirt?"
"Not one scrap, my dear madam!" the veteran
beamed, detaining the delicate, old-time china.
"Zounds! I have breakfasted like Lucullus, and
Esther is a Parisienne in dark masquerade! I tell
you I have often eaten, at the Trois Frcres Proven-
cemix itself, a specially prepared honilmrdc d'ecrc-
vifisvs a la Murai that had not the delicate flavor of
that chicken! The Yankees have left Virginia
little else, but they have not captured all her
cooks !"
"For your sakes," the old lady answered with a
flush of pleasure, "I deeply regret that they have
left so little for the cooks' skill. Especially,
Cousin Wirt, I would excuse our 'potato-coffee',
knowing your love for the real berry; and that
you, sir — " she bent her head graciously to the
Carolinian — "are great coffee drinkers in your own
state."
" 'Better a dinner of herbs, where love is' — eh,
92 CRAG-NEST.
my dear?" the veteran cried across the table to
Val; but, unnoting her quick flush, he nodded to
Ezekiel, who moved from the room more swiftly
than his butler's dignity generally permitted.
"Experience teaches that many of our supposed
necessities are merely habits," the young major
said gravely. "In camp, of course, it makes no
difference to us, for parched peas in a tin cup are
nectar, when we have time to make 'coffee.' But
ma writes me that even her delicate taste does not
reject parched wheat, or potato, when no block-
ader has managed to slip into Wilmington for
months."
"I hope your mother has not forgotten me, sir,"
the hostess answered. "Pray write her of the
great pleasure it gives us all to have jom under
our roof again. I hope our troubles have not aged
her."
"Not one bit!" Kob Maury cried, pouring black
sorghum over his sixth waffle. "You'd think, from
her photograph, that the major's mother was his
sister. Show Cousin Virginia her picture, major."
The Carolinian's face was very grave; and he
answered no word, as his hand went into the breast
of his shell jacket, drew out a worn photograph
and passed it quickly to his hostess. She took it
with a bow; studying the face long and closely,
ere she said:
"She is wonderfully well preserved, but I think
A POBPRATT EXCHANGED. 93
I would recognize the lips and chin anywhere.
And she has your eyes, sir; and the same black
hair. Ah!" a sigh moved the worn silk on her
bosom as she added gently: "Time has had some
bitterness for us both since we met; but he has
touched her most lightly. See, my dear, this is
my old schoolmate."
As she spoke, she handed the picture to Val;
Rob, at her left hand, leaving, his waffle to pass it
to his cousin. But, as his eyes fell upon the face,
he cried bluntly :
"Why, major, this isn't your ma! It's the other
one the mess tried to tease you — "
For once the cool Carolinian's poise was lost.
A burning flush rose to his very forehead, as he
stretched his hand nervously across the table, and
his voice was hard and commandful as he cried:
"Return it, sir! a silly carelessness!"
But even then his eyes flashed into those of the
woman opposite, to find them lifted from the pict-
ure to his own, one instant only. But in that
space he read the same contempt they spoke at
the riverside, two long years ago; and they spoke,
too, recognition of a face and figure seen but once
before. Then, self discipline triumphant, he was
himself again; and the voice was soft and gentle
that said to his hostess:
"I beg your pardon for my carelessness, Mrs.
Courtenay; and ma's for mistaking her picture for
94 CKAGJSEST. '
any other — " a quick flash of his eyes went out to
Val — ^'Ia(hfs, value that as I may."
As he spoke, his hand again went to his breast,
returning the picture and then proffering another
to the old lady, as he added:
"You see ma's hair is as white as your own;
that of the other lady has no silver in it."
''I ask your pardon, cousin!" the colonel here
cried out, as Ezekiel bore in a massive silver salver,
crowned with a venerable tin coffee-pot. But I
could not resist a little surprise for you. Mrs.
Ravanel sent her boy a rare present of blockade
coffee; and he disobeyed orders and forced half of
it upon me. Now — smell that ! and there's enough
in the bag to last jnj cousins a month!"
The grateful, but long unknown, aroma
steamed from the tin, now set before the hostess.
But an aroma yet more subtile and far reaching
seemed to fill the space between, as the proud old
eyes — moist and gentle now — bent upon the vet-
eran; the unseen essence of that love and sejfless-
ness, which permeated all who wrought and suf-
fered in those days; without which all had long
since yielded to the wearing strain.
The brave, gentle woman — dauntless before all
threatened peril — yielded to the more gentle as-
sault upon her. The soft afterglow was on the aged
face, and her lips trembled in their effort to form
the brief words:
"My kinsman, we thank you!"
A PORTRAIT EXCHANGED. 96
Then the delicate tact of both spared further
words; the colonel deftly changing the talk to
reminiscence of that far past, in Paris; of that so
different one, more recent and nearer home.
''Yes; everything is most uncertain," he said at
last. "I am not hopeless at all; but we can not
close our eyes to the dire need for more men. We
have learned to live pretty well without supplies,
and to fight fairly without arms. But thinned
ranks can not be filled by sheer will; and Grant's
boast was fact, that he has forced us to 'rob the
cradle and the grave.' Why, Cousin Virginia, Rob
there is a veteran to some lads sent me latel}^; and
I am a very youth to some old men at Petersburg —
I am sure that General Lee feels this truth; and
— though he speaks nothing of it — I feel that he
wishes the worst was met and over with. But the
president is adamantine; a man with eyes and ears
that he can force to see and hear only from within.
Both know the dire need of holding this Valley;
but Sheridan knows it, too. A great soldier that!
And he is facing Early with overwhelming num-
bers, and can add to them at will; while we —
Well!" — he broke off, pulling his huge mustache
thoughtfully a moment; then adding courteously:
"But, ladies, I ask your forgiveness xor talking
thus to you. Long exchange from the drawing-
room for the camp must plead my excuse. And
now, major and Master Rob, look at that!"
96 CRAG-h'EST.
As he spoke, he pointed to the huge, upright
clock, carved and ponderous, that faced them
across the hall; and ere he finished, its strong
chime rang out ten times upon the still summer
morning.
"As we are, none of us, 'laggards in love,' gen-
tlemen," he added, bowing to his hostess as he
rose, "neither must we be in war. This is most
pleasant, ladies; but duty is the stern mistress of
pleasure in these days. Mr. Maury, we must get
to our orders and details. Major Ravanel, you
had best mount as soon as possible; and — with
your permission. Cousin Virginia — Ziek can serve
his country. He will be an invaluable guide for
cross-roads and short cuts, major, for some miles
about here."
So the breakfast party broke up; and Rob
Maury sat, coatless and warm, before great piles
of muster rolls and orders, busily at work; the
colonel, also coatless, sitting bolt upright in the
chair facing him, and aiding by a frequent brief
nod, or rarer quick, short word of suggestion.
Half an hour later Wythe Dandridge looked
from the window of the kitchen — where the pres-
ence of both girls was more necessary, in prepar-
ing dinner, from the old negro's service to his
countr}^ — and saw the engineer officer mount his
horse at the barn. The negro was already
mounted on the courier's steed; and the oflflcer.
A PORTRAIT EXCHANGED. 97
having examined his pistol and returned it to the
holster, made some hasty notes in a memorandum
book, motioned to his companion, and both can-
tered across the bare field through a gap in the
fence and disappeared in the woods beyond.
"He's riding the black, Val," the girl cried. "I
wonder what has become of dear little Santee!"
"How should I know?" the other answered
quietly. "I think this will do, Aunt Esther. Don't
have the fire too fast."
There was silence for a long while; only broken
then, and through all that summer day, on tech-
nicalities, as the girls went cheerily enough about
their household duties; later sitting with their
aunt, over rough sewing, until dinner time. By
that, the young adjutant was more weary than
after a day's march or a hot skirmish; and the meal
was quite ready when the major returned, sun-
burned and dusty, but seemingly content with his
day's work. He went straight to the colonel's
room for report; the three gentlemen coming down
together.
Serious matters seemed to engross them all;
for the talk was less cheery than at breakfast, and
the colonel declared an early departure necessary,
to profit by the young moon. So, sitting together
on the broad piazza, until the horses were brought
around, there was no chance for tete-a-tete among
the young people, even had any of the four shown
7
98 CKAO-NEST.
disposition for it. Rob talked apart with his
cousin, seriously and low; and Wythe, rather ab-
sent mannered, seemed a trifle wearied of the
major's quiet speech and coolly courteous manner.
The colonel, too, was grave and preoccupied, often
reverting to the coming struggle for the possession
of the Valley. And finally he said:
"It is more than a year. Cousin Virginia, since
the general and I urged you and yours to seek safer
rest, for the present. What we urged then is
more true now. Should Sheridan beat Early back,
there is no telling where we may stop. You would
then be cut off, and in the enemy's lines."
"That is true," the old lady answered, with a
cloud upon her face and a yearning glance into
the hallway; and a great sigh came, as she added:
"You must be right. Cousin Wirt. I will write
to our relatives in Richmond to-morrow."
The veteran took her hand gently in his brown,
knotted one.
"You are a brave lady, my kinswoman; and I
know your courage. But I consider now that I
have your pledge; that you will move within the
lines."
The tall crown of her cap nodded forward
twice, before she answered. Then her voice shook
strangely, as she glanced at the girls and said:
"Yes; for their sake, I will leave Crag-Nest."
The courier rode up, leading the horses. Fare-
A PORTHAIT EXCHANGED. 99
wells were said, sadly as though omen of disaster
oppressed them all. Val ran to the handsome bay
— her gift to Rob — calling his name and stroking
the nose he rubbed against her shoulder in old
friendly way; and Wythe, on the step called out:
"Oh! major, where is pretty little Santee?"
"I lost her, Miss Dandridge," he answered
quietly, turning to arrange his saddle roll.
"Did I not write it, my child?" the colonel ex-
claimed. "She was shot under him at Gettysburg,
as he led a regiment in Hampton's charge."
Why, she herself could not have told, but Yal
Courtenay felt her cheeks burn red, as she hid
them behind the bay's tossing neck.
The colonel and Rob in saddle, and the latter's
hand pressed by his cousin for final farewell. Last
adieux were spoken; the veteran spurred on and
Val turned toward the house. Somehow the
major's girth was wrong; and the girl, passing
near him, heard the low voice, though his head was
turned away:
"Will you not bid me God speed?"
"He knows I wish you well!" The answer
came from scarcely moving lips; but they added:
"For more, ask that lady who — "
He was erect; his eyes steadily on hers, his face
grave and haughty, as he finished :
"Who is the peer of any in this land!"
And as the low words reached her ear, he had
vaulted to saddle, spurring down the path.
100 CRA(J-NE8T.
CHAPTER IX.
FROM THE OPEQUON.
Dawn of the 19tli September broke hot and
sultry; heavy clouds curtaining the East, while
hot, dry puffs of wind sent dull and low drifts
along the crests of the Massanutten, like skirmish-
ers in advance of the line of battle.
But that sultry dawn found the household at
Crag-Nest already astir; for its head had at last
ceased ^'thinking about it," and had now deter-
mined to move her family — and what of her house-
hold goods she might — within the Confederate
lines. Answers to her letters had come from Rich-
mond; and, with Mrs. Courtenay decision meant
action. Two days had been spent in busy prepa-
ration; for the constant clatter of couriers at speed
and the rumble of ammunition and wagon trains,
along the Winchester pike, all told of early and
heavy action at the front.
But the previous night had redoubled all of
these; the tramp of heavy masses of infantry
sounding continuous; cut sometimes by the rattle
of swift moving artillery and again by the rapid
trot of cavalry squadrons; while far and near was
heard the dull rumble of ambulances of sick and
wounded passing to the rear.
FROM THE OPEQVON. 101
And now — the cloud-dulled lances of sunrise
still failing to pierce the leaden dawn — low rumb-
ling sounds echoed along the Valley gorges and
caught the ears of the anxious women. They were
too continuous for thunder; breaking at long in-
tervals, only to reverberate again; and long ex-
perience told the listeners that Strategy had once
again bidden Valor
" Cry 'havoc! ' And let slip the dogs of War."
"It is certainly a battle, aunt; and between us
and Winchester, somewhere," Val said, as the
three women stood listening upon the lawn in
front of the house. "As all is ready, we had better
move as soon as the road is clear."
"General Early maj^ drive them before him,"
the old lady answered, with yearning glance up
at the house. "If so, we Avill still be safe here.
And even then, we may be useful to some of the
poor, maimed boys sent back from the victory."
"But it may be defeat," Wythe cried, listening
intently to the guns— now roaring continuous, and
seemingly more near. "Kemember, Cousin Wi-rt
said that Sheridan so outnumbered Early."
"Our outnumbered heroes have conquered be-
fore, my dear," the old lady answered calmly.
"You have not forgotten how Jackson swept them
before him down our Valley. But, my children,
we will move to-day; because I have promised."
102 CRAG-NEST.
As she spoke, Ezekiel came rapidly toward the
house, pick and shovel on shoulder.
"Mis' 'Ginia, I's bin diggin' mos' all nite, an' da
grabe's ready."
"The grave! Ezekiel," his mistress answered,
surprise dominating her usual calmness. "What
in the world do you mean?"
"Da majah ge'en me da wud," the negro an-
swered shrewdly, "da day me an' heem reconloiter
dem roads. He say, 'ole man,' sez he, 'when da
ladies lebe, you gwine berry all da silver wot 'e
can't carry 'long,' sez he. He ge'en me da wud
.an' da grabe's ready, an' deep, too."
"Faithful old servant," Mrs. Courtenay cried,
"you are indeed a reliance, when our kin are
needed elsewhere. And — " she turned warmly
to Val — "how thoughtful of the major; so quiet,
yet so full of resource."
"Very," the girl answered quietly; "but it seems
to me the silver is safe where we threw it in the
cellar under old wine boxes and straw."
"Mebbe, missy," the black answered promptly,
"but da majah ge'en me da wud 'bout dat, too. He
say, 'ole man, look out fur da berry'n'. Da Yank
may bun da house,' sez he."
"Oh! He was right!" Wythe cried earnestly.
"Burying it is safer."
"Yes; they may burn the house." Mrs. Courte-
nay's voice shook as it echoed the words; and, for
FROM THE OPEQUON. 103
the first time amid all her trials, the brave old eyes
were full of tears, as she lifted them to the loved
old pile. But quickly recovering, she turned to
the old negro with the mien of a general conferring
decoration, and to the girls as giving an order to
charge:
"Your fidelity shall be remembered, Ezekiel —
Girls, to the cellar! We will all aid in the safety of
my husband's silver!"
Promptly all the four sought the dim cellar,
coming up itB narrow stair laden with silver, urn
and candelabra; bearing without to the deep pit
in mid corn field. Then, an old carpet wrapped
over them, the negro packed down the soil, smooth-
ing the surface and strewing blackened stalks
above, to hide its freshness.
Some hours later, all was ready; each sash
and shutter closed, and only the great hall door
still wide, as though regretful to end — even for
a while — its hospitable invitation. Near it, on the
piazza, the two girls stood with sad faces and
moist eyes; lunch basket, wraps and what bag-
gage there was room for, piled upon the step. And
INIrs. Courtenay, bonneted and gloved, moved
slowly from one dim and empty room to another,
fixing her eyes yearningly upon every detail of
each, as though to stamp it indelibly upon her
memory.
Meanwhile, the cannonading grew more fitful,
104 CRAG-NEST.
often ceasing wholly for a while, but each time
its renewal seemed more clear, and now — as the
two girls stood intently- listening for the next re-
port — it came so distinctly that the separate guns
were noted; and the mountain breeze, now spring-
ing up, bore through the gorges of the Massanut-
ten the rattle of musketry, plainly distinguish-
able.
"Wythe, they are driving us!" Val cried, turn-
ing a pale face to her cousin. "God grant I am
mistaken! But they are beating our boys back!"
Wythe's face, too, was colorless, but with no
fear in the blue ej^es as they turned toward the
sound, and she answered:
"I fear you are right, Val. God guard those
dear to us!"
Still the mistress of the house kept her slow
walk through the deserted rooms, deaf to the omin-
ous sounds without; to all save the whisper of that
inward voice, ever repeating, dirge-like: "Leav-
ing the old home forever!"
But at last Val's call aroused her from sad day-
dreaming; for now the old negro was leading up
the path from the barn the old mule, harnessed to
the old barouche, that was to bear the refugees on
their long and tedious journey. And still the
cannon boomed nearer but less frequent, while
the rattling crash of small arms volleyed nearer
and more near. Grave and sad, but calm still,
FROM THE OrEQUON. 105
the mistress of the house passed its portals, never
daring to trust her eyes one backward glance. But
she sijoke Aery calmly and gently:
"It is hard to leave you behind, Ezekiel; but
someone must watch the old home, even were
there room and were Selim equal to greater load.
And you could not leave her — " She turned to
the bent old negress who had crept toward the
group, her apron over her head; her lank body
rocking from side to side, in her race's strongest
token of woe. "Good, faithful friends, both! The
Great Master will reward you better than your
poor mistress can."
With courteous dignity, grand in its gentle-
ness, she took the hard, black hands of man and
wife in her slim black gloves. But no further
word was spoken when she released them; and
Ezekiel began packing the bundles carefully in
the vehicle.
Suddenly hoofs sounded on the road beyond.
Around the curve dashed a foaming horse, his
rider hatless, without arms, bending on his neck
and spurring as though for life. With one impulse
the girls sped across the iield to the fence, scream-
ing after him some query, drowned in the clatter
of hoofs. But as they reached the fence another
came; soon, another, and then a squad — all reck-
less, abject, maddened by panic, as they dashed
up heedless of query, or answering only by sign.
106 CRAG-NEST.
Pale with suspense — but not with fear — both
women leaned over the fence, straining their eyes
up the road; for the sounds of cannonading had
died away and only scattered firing of small arms
now was heard. And soon another horseman
spurred along, but not so fast; a ghastly stream
M'elling down his face from the red handkerchief
that bound his head, as he swayed from side to
side in saddle. Val was over the fence and in the
road, screaming as he came:
''What news?"
"Opequon ! — Struck our right ! — Early de-
stroyed — ," the wounded man cried back, but never
drawing rein.
Then came more flying riders, singly and in
groups; many hatless, some coatless, most of them
unarmed; the wretched, ghastly advance guard of
a cavalry rout. But one and all — where panic
let them speak at all — told the same shameful
story of destruction, defeat and rout.
"^^al! We must go back to her. We know
all now, and can do no good here." Wythe's face
was very pale, but her voice was clear and brave ;
and Val, with never a glance at the oncoming
group, clambered over the fence once more and
they moved rapidly toward the house.
"I know it, my children," Mrs. Courtenay said
calmly, before either could speak. "Sheridan has
beaten us. There w ill be work for us to do here.
FROM THE OPEQUON. 107
Ezekiel, take the carriage back. For the pres-
ent, we will remain at home!'' -
The hours of that afternoon dragged them-
selves along with suspense-clogged feet, for those
anxious watchers on the old piazza. They had
promptly opened the house, piled their luggage
in the hall to be read}^ for emergency, and made
"coffee" for a hasty and meagre lunch. Then,
they could only wait and watch for the outcome
of that disaster, the extent and consequence of
which they could not even conjecture.
But it was plain that they were fortunate in not
having left the home shelter; for the Winchester
pike^ — along which their road laid — rapidly grew
more crowded with flying squads, first mounted
and later on foot; all in mad rush rearward for
some unknown point of safety. And later lum-
bered by some creaking wagons, with supplies or
wounded men; their drivers urging their jaded
beasts with whip and heel.
The sun having routed and chased away the
massed clouds of the morning, now beamed down
hotly, half way 'twixt the zenith and his rest, as
a great mass of gray jackets hurried round the
road's curve almost on the run, confused, half-
armed and wholly demoralized. Among them
flashed many a red or yellow facing, telling that
artillery and cavalry were aiding the rout of the
flying infantry; but through and flanking them
108 CRAG-NEST.
dashed mounted officers, brandishing their pistols
and striving bj voice and gesture to shame the
panic back to discipline.
Suddenly, out of the ruck one rider spurred
across the road, taking the fence and galloping
wildly toward the house, pistol in hand; and, ere
the others could speak, Wythe Dandridge's face
flushed crimson, but her wide, blue eyes never left
the wild rider, as she cried:
''Look!— Rob Maury!"
Throwing his horse almost on his haunches at
the step, the boy cried :
"Thank God! You are here — not there!" He
pointed to the road. "Keep close— be brave! It
will soon change! Not a minute to stop! We
must turn those curs!"
Little like a boy he looked now; erect and
strong in saddle, as Yal's pet horse stood statue-
like, with heaving flanks. Hatless, his powder-
stained and muddy jacket flung wide and the
coarse, blue shirt thrown back from the broad,
laboring chest, there was the grim set in Rob
Maury's features the charge of Torbert's men and
the break of his own brigade had left there; and
through the firm lips and flashing eyes spoke char-
acter before undreamed of, even by the three
women hurrying down the steps with eager query.
"Thoburn struck us on the right," he answered
rapidly. "Our green men took panic; the veterans
could not stand their shock. Can't tell any-
FROM THE OPEQUON. 109
thing of the fight; have ridden miles, trying to
rally those sheep! Yes, the battle's over; firing
has ceased. If the center and left broke, too, the
Luray road below is worse than this!"
"And our friends?" Mrs. Courtenay asked
briefly.
"The colonel swept by me like a lion, leading
in our old regiment," the soldier answered. "He
ordered me to rally the break. Oh! if I could only
have ridden at them by him ! But I must go ; only
stopped to warn you all. Good-b^^e. God bless
you all!"
Two women's hands held his; only their grave
eyes making mute answer through the mists in
them. But the youth's — leaving theirs in yearn-
ing wonder — saw Wythe Dandridge hastening
from the hall, a huge dipper of Avater in her hands.
"You must be thirsty," she said softly, holding
it up to him, but never lifting her eyes from the
ground.
"Oh! Thank you!" Only three trite words;
but the color shone bright through the sweat-
streaked battle grime on his face, as he took the
dipper and drank like a famished animal.
"And take this — please f^ the little hands held
up the package of lunch prepared for their own
use; but still the eyes never raised.
"Yes; take it, my son," the old lady said. "God
speed and protect you!"
He was gone; crossing the field at a wild gal-
] 10. CBAG-N£ST.
lop, clearing the fence below and plunging through
the woods to head the fugitives now past.
At last the long day of suspense wore toward
its close.
The victor sun slowly withdrew behind the
western hills, and, ready for his nuptials with the
Night, sent hot reflection of his triumph over them
above the leaden clouds, low-lying in the East.
And still waiting, the women sat together;
strangely silent in words, but reading each other's
thoughts as they traveled to the battle-field be-
yond, and sought to penetrate its clouds for token
of friends, perhaps stretched upon it — suffering or
dead.
Nor did the lessening tumult on the road near
by relieve their unspoken anxiety. Less frequent
squads passed the gate, but these even more de-
moralized and in rapid flight; and the lull, after
the last of them, was broken by orderly tramp of
cavalry; as heavy force of Thoburn's troopers trot-
ted swiftly by in close pursuit. But suddenly, Val
Courtenay's eyes — turned from the now still and
empty pike^ — stared steadily tow^ard the woods be-
hind the house; what color was left in her grave
face falling out of it. For, in that very gap in the
old fence — through which Wythe had noted the
absence of Santee, the day Ezekiel rode off with
Major Ravanel — the girl saw an ugly picture sil-
houette itself against the dying sunset.
BEYOND THE LINES. HI
CHAPTEH X.
BEYOND THE LINES.
A man on foot moved slowl}^ through the gap;
leading his own horse, and suj)porting in the sad-
dle of another the tall, swaying form of a wounded
comrade. And, the two women, following Val's
fixed gaze, all rose without one word and passed
down the steps to meet the unbidden but suffering
guest, should he prove a friend or foe. But as the
pair moved toward them, through the open field,
and the light grew more clear, all three hastened
forward in a run; but only the eldest spoke:
"Our cousin — badly hurt!"
It was indeed the gallant old Calvert, faint,
scarce able to keep his saddle, and held there only
by the firm hand of Fraser Kavanel.
"Is he much hurt, sir?"
The old lady's face was very white; but her
voice never shook in the query; and before the
younger officer could speak, the veteran — braced
by the familiar voice — sat up in saddle and an-
swered feebly:
"A hard hit, cousin, but not — " he paused an
instant; a spasm of pain crossing his ghastly pale
face. Then his teeth closed hard on the gray mus-
112 CRAG-NEST.
tache, as he added — ''Zounds! Enough to give
you some trouble with me."
Gentle hands raised to support him on the
other side; and Wythe, without a word, slipped the
bridle from RavanePs arm and led his tired black,
the brute's intelligence noting the light touch upon
the rein and following like a pet dog. Slowly they
reached the steps; the grim old soldier at once
braced himself to move his numbed feet from the
stirrups. But the younger man spoke quickly and
firmly:
^'Steady, sir! Do not move hand or foot. Call
the negro, j^lease." He turned to Yal and she flew
toward the kitchen; meeting Ezekiel already run-
ning up. With short, strong words of caution and
direction, the Carolinian led the horse close to the
piazza; then, with all their strength, the pair
raised the colonel softly from his seat and bore
him to the broad old sofa in the parlor. Soft, but
experienced hands removed his jaclvot; by degrees
the high thigh boots yielded to Ravanel's skilled
strength, and the veteran lay pale and motionless,
but breathing easily, as one woman bathed his
fevered forehead, another placed spoonfuls of whis-
key to his lips and the third slowly fanned the
drawn face.
Rapid field surgery had cut away the boot top
and riding pants, and a broad bandage of coarse
cloth was wound about the thigh, hip and side; but
BEYOND THE LINES. 113
it was soaked with blood and stiffened hard, as
Val gently moistened it. And her eyes raised to
the other man's in mute query; but he answered
promptly:
''No, do not attempt removal. The surgeon
was em[>hatic. Moisten, but do not loose it."
And the wounded soldier — reviving under stim-
ulant — opened his eyes and smiled feebly, as he
saw the watchers near; and his faint voice mur-
mured:
''Brave, true women! Always thinking of
others." He tried to wave his hand, but it fell
back by his side, as he added feebly: "Don't be
alarmed — good as two dead men! Pardon the
trouble — I give!"
Then exhausted Nature called for relief upon
her gentlest soother, Sleep; and — sure that he was
resting easy — aunt and niece softly followed Rav-
anel outside, leaving the younger girl to fan the
sleeper.
"How was he hurt, sir?" Mrs. Courtenay asked
in anxious whisper.
"Struck in the thigh with a fragment of can-
ister," the soldier replied gravely. "We were
forced back slowly for a mile. Then the new men
broke and it was a race for miles. At the cross-
ing above he rallied the old regiment, turned it
on the pursuers, driving them. Far ahead of his
line, he was struck almost from his horse. The
8
114 CRAG-NEST.
men fled in panic; but I — " he hesitated only a
moment — "was fortunate enough to bring him off,
knowing the little cross-roads. Greer, the brigade
surgeon, saw us escape the chase and followed in
the wood. It was providential; or he would have
bled to death on the spot."
The old lady grew whiter and her lips trem-
bled as they whispered :
"An artery severed?"
"A large one, in the thigh," he answered
promptly. "Greer tied it; told the colonel plainly
the danger of motion, and advised surrender for
safety. The colonel sternly refused ; said he would
die in preference, and ordered me to mount him
and take him to the rear."
"Will he recover, sir?" The query was cold
and grave, but in firm voice.
"God only knows, ma'am. He has lost much
blood, but has wonderful vitality. He must be
absolutely still; the great danger is hemorrhage.
Greer — if he eluded the pursuit — should be here
soon. He promised to; when he had tended two
desperately wounded officers."
"My cousin shall have every care. Major Rava-
nel," the matron answered; "and your presence
will—"
"I, madam!" he exclaimed. "Why, I should
not be here now, but aiding to rally and intrench
our shattered force. I must get to saddle at once."
BEYOJSTD THE LIXES. 115
"You must do your duty, sir,-* Mrs. Courtenay
answered gravely. "We will tvj to do ours, when
you go — "Wait one minute, please."
She turned softly into the house; and there —
for the first time in three years — under the shadow
of great calamity and possibly death — the young-
man and woman were together alone.
"You have put us under great debt of grati-
tude. Major Ravanel. You have acted like a
brave — " imperceptibly almost she hesitated be-
fore the word — "soldier."
"I have done my simple duty, Miss Courtenay,"
he answered low. "You remind me that I neglect it
now. One look at our beloved commander, and I
must be gone." He turned to the door; pausing
suddenly as the clear note of a bugle echoed
through the darkness, adding half to himself: "A
Yankee bugle — the recall. The pursuit is off."
And he was right. Thoburn's men had fol-
lowed far and fast; taking prisoners sometimes,
vengeance at others, until the scattering fugitives
led them through strange roads and into the
woods. Then the late chastening hand of the all-
seeing Mercy dropped the veil of Night between
pursuer and pursued.
Quietly but swiftly the soldier passed to his
comrade's side; looking down on the pale, quiet
face in the dim candle-light, with his own scarcely
less still and placid. Then Mrs. Courtenay came,
116 CRAG-NE8T.
bearing with her own hands food and a small de-
canter, as she beckoned him to the door and whis-
pered :
"You must be exhausted, sir. Before you eat,
have some old brandy."
"Thanks," he whispered back. "But I have no
time to eat; and I have not tasted liquor since the
war began. I promised ma; and — " his face har-
dened strangely — "I have good reason to keep my
pledge."
Again the bugle-note cut the night, now close
beyond upon the road; and Val Courtenay ran in,
exclaiming:
"They are here! I think they halted at the
gate!"
"I must be off then. I can not be taken here —
away from the command! Good-bye, ma'am — God
guard you and yours!"
He moved rapidly out as he spoke; pausing on
the step to say:
"Good-bye, Miss Courtenay. If we never meet
again — "
"Quick! They are coming!" as the clank of
arms and tramp of hoofs again sounded at the gate.
Without answer he bent very low to the ground,
his ear turned eagerly toward the barn; and, even
before he spoke, the girl's acute sense caught the
soft footfall of horses in that direction.
"They are there!" he whispered hoarsely.
BEYOND THE LINES. 117
"They have my horse and I am cut off. I must not
be taken. Show me the back door; I can escape
that way!"
As if in answer, another bugle sounded on the
road above; showing another party approaching
from that side; and by this time the horsemen from
below were nearly at the house.
"I am trapped!" he said quietly but bitterly,
as his hand went instinctively to his pistol, ''but
I icUl not be captured here!"
The girl placed restraining hand upon his arm ;
her voice very low, but very clear, as she said:
"Major Ravanel, no one can doubt your cour-
age; but one man can not fight the Yankee army.
Sometimes strategy is equal to courage. In here
— quick!"
As she spoke she turned to the great clock-
massive and black in the shadow of the hall; dully
ticking what might be his comrade's deathwatch
— and swung wide the great door.
"Get in quickly; they are here!" she said again;
and Mrs. Courtenay moving to the door, whispered :
"Obey her! Resistance is folly! Remember
your country and your mother need you."
Without reply he stepped into the dark, coflfin-
like recess; and next instant Yal stood statue-like
by her aunt in the doorway, as a squad of horses
halted and faced toward the house. Its burly,
yellow-bearded commander and two aids dis-
118 CRAONE8T.
mounted and ascended the steps; and the former
gruffly asked, with strong accent:
''Vel, who vos dis house belong to?"
"To me, sir," Mrs. Courtenay answered with
stately dignity.
"Oh — ho! Dat vos so? Vel, den, andt who
you vos?"
"A lady, sir," the matron answered with em-
phasis, "as 3^ou might learn from many gentlemen
in either army."
"Vel, den, my laty, ve haf got hungry chasen
ter tam Shonnies. Ve vandt someding ter eat."
"And, first, sir, may I ask whom I have the
honor to address?"
"Yah! I haf ter dell you my rang is Macher
Einvasserschwein, commanting der segund reg-
mend von Buford's brigade, andt I be tam hungry,
too."
For one instant the old gentlewoman hesitated,
the blood mounting to the roots of the gray coro-
net, and her slim hand clinching at the coarse
words. The next, supreme sense of duty to others
controlled her wrath; and her voice was coldly
calm as she answered low:
"Speak lower, please; we have illness in the
house. It is alwaj's with regret that I refuse hos-
pitality, even to a stranger; but now I can not give
supper to your men, simply because we have no
food in the house."
BEYOND THE LINES. 119
"So-o-o! Andt I shall expecdt myselve ter be-
leeve dot, ain'd't?" and the man guffawed loudly,
as he punched his aid in the side, and added:
"Dat vas foine, don'd't?"
"I must insist," rather testily this time, "that
you make less noise. My cousin is very ill, and
waking suddenly might cause death."
''So-o-o! Your cousin vos eel? Andt w^ho vos
her name?"
"//c is Colonel and Brigade Commander Wirt
Calvert of the Confederate Cavalry!" the old lady
answered, with all the blood of all the Cabbells
rushing to her face. "He fought you, sir, like a
brave gentleman, when well. // jou are a soldier,
respect his desperate wound."
As she spoke, again the bugle sounded close
and clear, at the turn of the road above; the tramp
of a large body of horse coming up to her ear. But
the German heard it carelessly, knowing the
friendly call; and he drew a step nearer the ladies,
as he said:
"Oh — ho! You haf bin hiting ein vounded
Shonny, vos et? Haf he bin parole? Tam! Ye
veel arresdt heem andt take heem along."
He placed his hand upon his sword and moved
as though to enter; but, with swift motion, Yal
Courtenay stepped before her aunt and grasped
the casing, her long, slim arm barring his way.
"You shall not enter!" she said in low, distinct
120 CRAG-NEST.
tone. "If you do not respect this lady's gray hair,
you shall respect her home. Three unarmed wo-
men are here, nursing a dying soldier. If you be
a man, respect our sex and sorrow, and call off
your men!"
Abashed for the moment, the man drew back
before the fiery tone of the girl's whisper; but,
even as he did so, a slight creaking noise, and a
dull click caught her ear; and one swift glance
showed her the old clock door slightly ajar and the
gleam of the candle caught upon the leveled barrel
of a pistol, in the darkness behind her. But, even
at that supreme moment, she lost no coolness; mov-
ing her free hand before the candle in signal to-
ward the clock. For, as she spoke, the bugle on
the road sounded the halt; the hoof beats were
suddenly still, save those of a detached squad trot-
ting rapidly toward the house.
"Tam! Who vos doze?" the German growled,
turning to descend the step; but the squad was
upon them, and a stern voice called out of the
darkness :
"What troop is this; and who commands it?"
"Troop K, Second Regiment Buford's brigade;
Major Einvasserschwein in command," the
mounted lieutenant replied.
"Yah! Andt who ter tefil vos you? Some
pummers don'd it?" the major growled, and plac-
ing his foot in stirrup.
BEYOND THE LINES. 121
"General Buford and escort," was the curt an-
swer. "Mount, sir! before jow report!"
"I vos moundedt, sheneral," the other an-
swered meekly, clambering into the saddle and
waving salute in the darkness.
"What are you doing here, sir; off the line of
pursuit and without orders?"
"Shust picking up some Shonnies, sheneral — "
"And needlessly insulting unprotected ladies,
General Buford," broke in Mrs. Courtenay, with
unusual heat.
"Why were we not halted and challenged, sir?"
the general asked sternly. "Are these the precau-
tions proper; at night — in the enemy's country?"
"Ve haf known dot bukle vos friendts, shen-
eral," the other replied, in different tone from that
he had used to the ladies.
"Your ears will not always protect you, sir,"
the brigade commander replied. "Take your com-
mand to regimental headquarters at once; report
yourself to your colonel under arrest!"
Promptly the German gave the order — not un-
sheathing his sword; the troop lieutenant order-
ing:
"Platoon! By the left; trot! March!"
The squadron moved away into the darkness,
as the tall cavalry leader threw himself from sad-
dle and muttered under his breath:
"Curse these political appointments! That
122 CRAG- NEST.
fellow may be a first-class ward-boss, but Sheridan
himself could never make him a soldier."
"He was keeping a beer-shop in my town when
the government honored me by making him my
lieutenant," the aid replied, as they turned to-
ward the steps.
"I hope, madam," the general said, raising his
hat courteously, "that you have suffered no discom-
fort at the hands of my men."
"None serious, as yet, sir," the old lady an-
swered gravely, "but your arrival was most — " she
hesitated an instant with the word "welcome"
upon her lips; changing to— "opportune, sir."
"I am glad for other reasons than duty that I
fancied some irregularities here, when I heard
horses in your grounds. You have, perhaps, for-
gotten my former visit, when I was Major Bu-
ford?"
"I have not, sir," she answered calmly. "Cour-
tesy like yours then is rare enough among our
Northern visitors to be remembered. I told you
truly then, that my kinsman was not beneath my
roof. lie is now here!"
The Federal's face, now in the full light, showed
quick change from grave courtesy to surprised
alertness. Ere her v\'ords were finished, his hand
had gone to his sword; and he turned as if to give
some order. But, quick as himself, she inter-
preted the gesture and added :
BEYOND THE LINES. 12S
"He is lying very near death, I fear, General
Buford. He can not harm you now."
"I sincerely regret to hear it, madam," the
Northern soldier answered promptly. "When we
broke Early's right this morning, Colonel Calvert
rallied a handful of fugitives and turned on my
brigade in the grandest charge of the day! Can I
see him, madam? You ladies are alone here; and
I may be useful to a gallant enemy."
As Mrs. Courtenay hesitated, Wythe stepped
softly from the room and whispered:
"Cousin Wirt is awake. Aunt Virginia, and
insists on getting up to see who these men are."
"He must not be excited," the old ladj' ox-
claimed. "You had best enter, sir. I am assured
that you will be gentle with a helpless foe."
And with no word more, she stood aside and
courteously motioned him to proceed.
Colonel Calvert lay pale, unequal to the effort
he had made to rise to his elbow. But his eyes
were clear and bright as they fell upon the tall
form aj)proaching his bedside; and a sad smile
moved his mustache as he said feebly:
"You have got me at last, general, where I can
neither fight nor run; but the fault is your fellows',
not my owm."
"I am truly sorry, Colonel Calvert," the younger
soldier said in low voice. "I trust it is nothing-
serious, sir."
124 ■ CRAG-NEST.
Again the sick man smiled grimly as he quoted:
" *No, 'tis not so deep as a well, nor so wide as
a church door; but 'tis enough!' "
A spasm of pain shot across his face and, spite
of iron will, the grim, gray mustache quivered as
he set his lips.
"Has he had surgical aid?" the general queried
hastily.
"Yes; on the field," Yal answered impulsively;
her great, dark eyes fixed piteously upon the
drawn face. "Without it he would have died upon
the field. A large artery was severed, the major
said."
"The major r^ the Federal's eyes caught the
girl's an instant, then glanced quickly around the
room; but she answered calm and unhesitatingly:
"Yes, the officer who brought him here, and es-
caped your German compatriot."
For sole reply. General Buford turned to Mrs.
Courtenay and said:
"I fear Colonel Calvert lacks for skilled treat-
ment, madam. My headquarters are ordered but
three miles below. I will send my staff surgeon
at once." A grave smile lit his face as he added:
"We did the damage, perhaps; so it is our place
to mend it."
The colonel's eyes opened calmly and turned
upon his visitor, as he said faintly:
"You are very good, general. I shall be better
BEYOND THE LIJS'ES. 126
soon, but I thank you for your consideration for
my kinswoman.'-
"I hope, indeed you will," the Federal an-
swered cheerily, "and you will find Dr. Patterson
very skillful." He slipped off his gauntlet and
took the colonel's right hand in his, letting his
fingers rest carefully on the pulse as he spoke.
"We are on the move, but I may find time to call
again — with your permission and the ladies'."
"Thank you, general. Come, if your duty per-
mits," the old man answered; and Mrs. Courtenay
added:
"If you do, General Buford, you will always
be — " again she hesitated an instant — "sure of
courteous reception."
With a bow only he passed to the door, fol-
lowed by his hostess, who asked anxiously:
"Is he desperately hurt, sir?"
"I can not tell, madam," he answered gravely.
"He seems seriously hurt, and his pulse is very
weak. I should advise stimulants and absolute
quiet. Good-night, madam." Next moment he
had mounted and was galloping out at the head of
his escort.
Then — listening eagerly to the departing hoofs,
Val moved quickly to the clock, crying:
"They are gone! — all of them,"
Eavanel struck the door open, rather impa-
tiently, uncocking his pistol and slipping it in the
126 CRAG-NE8T.
holster as he did so. Then he looked full into the
girl's eyes and said:
"It is scarcely a fine part I have played in to-
night's scenes, Miss Courtenay; but you have
placed me under deepest oblif::ation."
"There can be none possible, sir," the girl an-
swered quietly, "when a Southern woman aids a
Southern soldier. I had done — "
"As much for any other, chancing here;" he
broke in hotly; and the girl, raising neither eyes
nor voice, replied promptly:
"Assuredly! You are all fighting for us; we
owe you all equal gratitude. I am glad you obeyed
my warning. Had you killed that brutal German,
a hideous scene must have followed, ending surely
in your death,"
"And you would have felt — " he began quickly;
but— her face still downcast, but flushing as she
spoke — the girl as quickly interrupted:
"Deepest sorrow, sir. At this moment the
death of every soldier is a loss to the cause — a grief
to every Southern woman!"
For a single instant strong feeling glowed upon
the man's grave face; with passionate gesture he
advanced one step, about to speak. But he con-
trolled the sudden gust of impulse, and the voice
was quiet and cold as her own, that said:
"You are right, and your words remind me
how I neglect my duty. I must find the remnants
BEYOND THE LINES. 127
of our brigade. God knows who are left — and
where they are; and I must search for them on
foot, as your German raider carried off our
horses."
"You can wait for daylight?" she asked; a re-
lenting in the tone.
"Impossible, Miss Courtenay!" He was en-
tirely himself again; self-contained and speaking
in his low voice. "In a tramp after the rout — for
now it seems to have been such — night is safer
than day, even were time not precious. I kno.v
every foot of this country."
"Oh! If you had a horse!" The girl spoke im-
pulsively; but he answered with a quiet smile:
"It will be my own fault if I do not by daylight.
So, good-bye, Miss Courtenay; and believe I will
not forget your saving me from capture like a
straggler or desertc^r!"
A careful footfall sounded across the field and
the soldier's hand went quickly to his holster, as
a familiar voice called softly:
"Ez dey all gone, missy?"
"Yes, Ziek; all are gone. Did they trouble
you at the barn?"
"I hasn't been at th' barn," the black answered,
advancing with a chuckle. "Wen I yeered da
Yankee gentlemuns a-comin', I tuk ter da woods."
"It was just as well," Ravanel answered. "You
could not have saved the horses."
128 CRAO-NE8T.
"I dunno," Ezekiel answered quietly. "Bofe
da bosses tuk ter da woods wid me!"
"You brave, smart old fellow!" Ravanel cried
in delight. Then he turned to the girl, his face
glowing: "What do I not owe to Crag-Nest?
Certainty of escape, added to safety from dis-
honor!"
But Val Courtenay — in revulsion from anxiety
— was ice again once more; and it was the cold,
reserved voice that answered slowly:
"Safety from dishonor — should be paramount
with every Southern soldier!"
HOME, FAREWELL. 129
CHAPTER XI.
HOME, FAREWELL.
Ten days succeeding the Opequon disaster
dragged slowly to the inmates of Crag-Nest. Yet
they were far from idle.
True to his promise, General Buford had sent
his brigade surgeon over by dawn; and Dr. Pat-
terson's careful examination of the colonel's
wounded thigh gave the ladies much hope, yet
not unmixed with serious anxiety. The ball had
plowed through, tearing the artery; and the doc-
tor's verdict was that the hasty ligation might
produce inflammation, and possibly sloughing.
"He has reacted wonderfully, madam," he said
to jMrs. Courtenay, after the diagnosis. "His i^ulse
is strong, there is no fever; and, better still, no
sort of fear. He seems to have great constitution
and to be in perfect health; but the greatest pos-
sible care must be taken to keep him quiet. All
old soldiers — especially commanders — are hard to
control ; but Colonel Calvert is so courtly a gentle-
man that I expect from him implicit obedience to
you and his gentle young nurses."
"You and General Buford, sir, have put our
household under grave compliment," the old lady
9
130 CRAG-NEST.
said with stately courtesy. "Were all who wear
your uniform like you, this terrible war might be
a very different one."
"I am more than glad to have been of use," the
surgeon replied, quietly ignoring her comment. "I
hope I may be able to see him again before we
move, but at the rate the enemy is retreating, I
may be far out of reach to-night."
"Are there any special directions to leave, doc-
tor?" Val inquired in her thoughtful way.
"None, miss. Generous nourishment, necessary
stimulant when the pulse goes down, and the band-
age constantly wet with tlie lotion I left. Only
these, and above them all, absolute quiet and per-
fect rest for the limb. And now, ladies, I must
say good-night," and with a bow, the surgeon sig-
naled the sergeant and his escort and was about
to mount when he paused and turned back. "By
the way, ]Mrs. Courtenay," he said, "you are now
behind our lines; and, I hope, likel}^ to continue so.
In this, however, you are not likely to agree with
me; and, should you wish to move, you will need
permit." He took out his note-book and wrote
rapidly, then reading aloud:
"Mrs. Courtenay, of Crag-Nest, with two ladies
and a wounded officer. Colonel Wirt Calvert, have
permission to pass all posts and pickets of the U. S.
Army between their home and the Confederate
line. Paroled this 20th Sept., 1863. By order
HOME, FAREWELL. 131
Brig.-Gen'l Buford, Commanding — th Cavalry
"Patterson, Lt.-Col. Brig. Surgeon."
Brigade
As he finished, he tore the slip from his book,
tendering it to Mrs. Courtenay; but the old lad}'
hesitated, drawing herself up to full height, as she
replied :
"But, sir, we have given no parole."
"That is not vital," he replied with a smile. "I
will accept it as constructive. You ladies do not
form a very dangerous body; and the general, of
course, paroled Colonel Calvert."
Never, to her own knowledge, had Mrs. Courte-
nay wavered from the direct path of strictest ve-
racity; and, in her code of ethics, the suppression
of truth was the meanest suggestion of falsehood.
But the freedom of her kinsman — the comfort, if
not the safety, of her girls — were too great prizes
to be thrown away; so, taking the paper quietly,
she slipped it into the bosom of her dress, even as
she replied:
"M}^ cousin's parole will have to be 'construc-
tive' also. General Buford, sir, made not the re-
motest allusion to it."
The surgeon smiled quietly, as he answered:
"You are a diplomatiste, madam, and I am too
old a soldier to attempt correction of my com-
mander. Keep the paper. It can do the flag no
132 CRAG- NEST.
harm, and may be useful to you. And now, ladies,
good-night."
He rode away too rapidly to overhear the old
lady's comment:
"That Yankee is a perfect gentleman, Val; and
I really believe that I should have been tempted
to offer him a glass of wine if — we had one in the
house."
From that night the colonel was a model pa-
tient; obeying implicitly every direction of his
gentle nurses, and gaining strength, and his old-
time cheerfulness, under their tender ministra-
tions. Iron constitution and great will power
aided these; and a week's time found the veteran
apparently well on the road to recovery. But
meantime many visitors had wandered to Crag-
Nest; some mounted, but the majority on foot; a
few of them bearing honorable passport of recent
wounds. These last received welcome and care
from the lady of the house. But the majority of
visitors were stragglers and skulkers from either
army — those miserable god-fathers of the modern
tramp. And these received small consideration,
but always a strong lecture from the staunch old
matron, though none of them — if really foot-sore
and hungry — were turned away without a crust
from the fast lessening stores at Crag-Nest. And
the latter could not now be replenished, with com-
munications wholly cut off, and nothing with
HOME, FAREWELL. 133
which to purchase from the enemy but Confederate
money. So Ezekiel proved himself — in addition to
other valuable accomplishments— a most success-
ful forager; corn and fruit from the ungathered
crop often filling his sack, and occasional honncs
houches of bacon and canned meats from some dis-
tant Yankee camp. These last the girls received
and served without question; certain that the head
of the house would have forbidden further foray
had she suspected their source, or one tithe of the
romance necessary to procure them for the suffer-
ing but eloquent man and brother. Meanwhile,
only "rumors of wars," vague and unreliable,
floated in to the cut-off household; but Federal
bummer and Confederate straggler alike agreed
that Early had reorganized his beaten army, and
that Sheridan was massing for a still heavier and
more decisive blow. From Crag-Nest, the only
pickets, patrols and massed bodies of moving
troops now seen were uniformed in blue; and its
women felt, more than ever before, their absolute
isolation. They were, indeed, cut off; and that at
a time when supplies and minor luxuries Mere
more than ever missed, and when medical skill
might become a vital need at any moment. And
when a week passed by, the quiet of the mending
invalid began to give way to frequent, and some-
times fretful, queries about household needs; but
more especially about the movement of the armies.
184 CRAO-NE8T.
And at last, the iteration of the formula, "No re-
liable news," began to seem to his impatience only
the suppression of disastrous tidings. He grew
more fretful under imposed restraint; insisted that
he was much better, and taxed equally the pa-
tience and the resolution of his faithful nurses, in
carrying out the surgeon's strong injunction for
his absolute quiet.
Then, suddenly through the oppressive but
ominous silence in the Valley, broke the dread
echo of that order for destruction, which sounded
to the very foundations of civilization; hearing
which, the Southern Rachel sat by her desolated
hearth, groaning in her soul : '' Ye have made it a
desert!" even while she might not add: "And
have called it peace."
Sheridan's order — carrying out the ideas of
Lieut.-General Grant — had gone out to destroy all
subsistence in the Valley; wheat, corn and stock.
Its carrying out had been entrusted to no unwill-
ing hands; and now vast tracts, lately teeming
with ungarnered grain, stretched black and bare;
while smouldering rafters of mill and barn still
sent their curling protests upward against "Man's
inhumanity to man." All four-footed things were
driven from already depleted farms; and, where
not fit for army use, were slaughtered to prevent
all usufruct to the stubborn defenders of "Lee's
granary." For the fiat had gone forth inexorable
— only to be inexorably observed :
HOME, FAREWELL. 135
"Death is popularly considered the maximum
punishment in war, but it is not; reduction to pov-
erty brings prayers for peace more surely and more
quickly than does the destruction of human life,
as the selfishness of man has demonstrated in more
than one great conflict."*
And now EzekiePs foraging was light, while
his budget of black tidings was heavy indeed; and,
like the ancient, he brought in the latter ever be-
fore him, while the former's depleted weight hung
behind, woefully light. And — emboldened by im-
munity from check, from Early's still disorganized
command — the black riders of Destruction waxed
as bold as fat; and day or night:
"The tramp — the tramp of iron hoofs,
With mutter hoarse,
Comes on, with flames of burning roofs
To marlc its course.
Far in tlie distance seen at first.
The dwellings light ;
Bat, one by one, they nearer burst
Upon the sight;
And all along that valley fair.
The homeless shrieklngs of despair
Come throbbing upward thro' the air
Of pitying night!
" And riding, trooping rank on rank,
With jingling spur and sabre clank,
The men who bear that order stern
Have come to desolate and burn.
O God I May never more return
A lot so hard to bear!"
■ General Sheridan's own words.
136 CRAG- NEST.
And now, at last, the resources of the brave
women about the sick man's couch had come to
their meagrest point. Stimulants were exhausted;
nourishing food was not to be had, and the daily
needs of all were filled by green corn and parched-
potato '^coffee"; the fast lessening meal and flour
being kept sacred for the sick man. And, only
then, the council of three decided that movement
— or its alternative, starvation — stared at them
as an absolute certainty.
To decide was to act, for the mistress of Crag-
Nest. Very calmly she told her patient of so much
of the situation as was necessary; that the home
resources no longer availed them or him; and
showed him General Buford's order for their
safety. This had stood them in good stead on
more than one occasion of raid or other visit; and
the immediate grounds of the home stood almost
solitary in immunity. Even Selim had been
spared the usual fate of worthless mules; and Eze-
kiel had carefully cached the colonel's tall but
now lank steed deep in the woods, away from any
path.
Told the situation, the veteran bit his mustache
and knotted his brows awhile, in deep thought.
Then his face cleared up and he said, much in his
old manner:
"The order is a hard and cruel one. Cousin Vir-
ginia; it is barbarity, not war. That, as I take it,
IIOMK, FARKWEI.L. 137
should be conducted much as a duel between gen-
tlemen; and this is the shop-keeper's notion of war.
It will cripple us still more, but, as I told you some-
time ago, thinkers in the army — from General Lee
down — have begun to consider the war a question
of time, not one of result. If truly there can be
but one ending, perhaps the sooner we reach it the
better for humanity and the future. Zounds!
Sheridan is helping us to solve the problem. But
now for the home department," his rare smile of
other days lit his drawn face. "You dear ladies
have suffered more than you tell me for my sake.
That must cease. Why, I am nearly myself again ;
see!" he clinched his hand, raising his arm with
some vigor, as he rose to the other elbow.
"Cousin Wirt," exclaimed Yal, "how dare you?
And what sort of a soldier are you, to disobey or-
ders like that?"
"But, my dear child, one must creep before he
walks. If you fair tyrants keep me on my back,
how will I get strength to ride as your escort into
our lines?"
The girl smiled sadly at him, as she strove to
answer cheerily:
"The best soldiers obey, without question; bul
I will tell you that everything is arranged. To-
morrow we can start."
"Yes, Cousin Wirt," Wythe cried, overhearing
as she entered with some corn bread of her own
138 CRAG-NEST.
make. "I am to ride your horse and Val will drive
you and Aunt Virginia in the phaeton, until we
reach our lines and borrow an ambulance."
Mrs. Courtenay, standing with imle, sad face,
moved her lips as though about to speak; but they
only moved soundlessly and she turned quickly
away, passing slowly from the room. Quietly, but
equally quickly, Val followed, slipping her arm
within her aunt's and pressing her hand in silent
token of sympathy.
"Well, my fair little martinet," they heard the
colonel say, "I will obey unquestioning. I have
given you my parole. But, zounds! That paper,"
he added suddenly. "I can not use it. I never
gave the Yankee my parole."
"Why, no! How could you?" the little diplo-
matiste answered. "He never asked it. You can
use it, as he said, 'constructively'; and you will not
refuse, when it is for our safety."
For sole reply the veteran tugged slowly at his
mustache. Then he ate his simple lunch thought-
fully, and gallantly kissed the white little hand
that reached for the empty plate.
Next noon a negro parson of much reputed
sanctity, and more than suspected of being em-
ployed as a Federal spy, visited Ezekiel by agree-
ment. That faithful servitor had promised to use
the parson in a lay capacity; and, with his assist-
ance, Colonel Calvert — though stoutly protesting
HOME, FAREWELL. ]39
his perfect ability to walk — was lifted bodily from
his couch to the folded comforter laid entirely
across the left side of the old phaeton. Adieux
were spoken, as on that previous preparation for
flight from the Land of Bondage; but this time the
mistress broke down completely, and past the
power of speech, when the old negro and his wife
kissed her hands, sobbing like little children.
Without a word — but with one, long, lingering,
piteous look up at her life-long home, she took her
seat beside her kinsman; Val taking the reins
above the worn old mule. Then the old negro
carefully lifted Wythe to Yal's old side-saddle;
strange-seeming to the fretful war horse.
"Good-bye, faithful old Ezekiel!" the colonel
cried suddenly. "We will never forget your care of
the ladies. Give me your hand, sir! I have taken
a prince's with less pleasure. Zounds! sir, if you
are black, you are a perfect gentleman!"
It was over. The home tie was broken at last;
and driving slowly and carefully, Yal passed into
the road, leaving Crag-Nest behind. But not one
word was spoken; and neither head was turned
for a last, longed-for look.
140 CRAG-NEST.
CHAPTER XII.
now BLOOD TOLD. .
The drive was necessarily slow, and it was late
afternoon when they reached the first Federal
picket. Its officer received them gruffly enough
at first; but his manner changed on the presenta-
tion of their permit.
"And you are the rebel officer, sir?" he asked
the colonel.
"I am Colonel Calvert, of the Confederate Army,
sir," the colonel answered, as feebly as testily. The
strain of the long drive had told upon him; and
Val, quietly reaching her hand to his, found it dry
and feverish.
"Is there a camp beyond on this road, sir?" she
queried quietly of the Federal.
"Yes, miss; ten or twelve mile, I guess. Two
squadrons of Buford's Brigade camp there with
his hospital train."
"Do you know the surgeon in charge?" the girl
again asked quickly.
"Old Patterson, I guess," the man answered
carelessly, "and all the staff. They say the whole
army is falling back on — " he checked himself sud-
denly, adding: "All right, colonel, you can pro-
ceed; your parole is all right."
HOW BLOOD TOLD. 141
The old gentleman's face flushed and he seemed
about to speak, but controlled himself until they
moved forward. Then he exclaimed testily:
"Confound that paper! For the first time in
my life, Cousin Virginia, I seem to be sailing under
false colors. I gave no parole, and these insolent
rascals insist I have."
"But Cousin Wirt, it was merely written con-
structively."
"Zounds! Madam," he answered, half rising
to his elbow, "a parole is delicate point of honor;
and in such all must be direct and clear. * I brought
my sword from the field, buckled about me. Ever
since it has laid under my coverlid. It is wrapped
in these comforters now. And, zounds! none of
these hireling gentlemen ever asked me for it when
I could draw it! Why, I refused to surrender
when Ravanel urged necessity, after the fellow
leaped from his horse in a hail of fire to prevent my
falling from mine! Zounds! Madam, would I let
my comrade walk through shot and shell to carry
me out of their reach when I was bleeding to
death, only to surrender now that I am well?"
As his French friends would have said, the vet-
eran was a cheval now; and he raised to his elbow
with vigorous gesture of his free hand. Mrs.
Courtenay did not reply. She only beat up his
pillow more comfortably as — the unnatural
strength of excitement passing — he fell back upon
142 CRAG-NEST.
it. But his mind still ran upon the subject, and
presently he said :
"Cousin Virginia, I have determined what I
will do. If General Buford, or any officer of my
own rank, is at this camp I will explain this busi-
ness and set this thing straight."
"As you please, cousin," the old lady answered
quietly, "but I see no necessity; they will ask no
questions."
"Zounds! Madam, I care nothing for their
questions! My own self-respect as an officer and
a gentleman has been asking questions ever since
I heard of this farce!" he cried; and Yal, turning
at his unwarranted vehemence, noted that a deep
flush was on his forehead and cheeks and a restless
movement in his eyes. Plainly the fatigue and
heat after his long rest had fevered the wounded
man; and the quick glance the women exchanged
showed that both recognized it. But he was silent
now, save for broken exclamations, as he dozed fit-
fully, but woke at every unusual jolt of the old
vehicle. Sunset fell when the picket had been left
only about six miles, and its afterglow was fading
into dull gray as they passed the next rise.
Colonel Calvert suddenly uttered a sharp ex-
clamation of pain, followed by a deep, long gasp;
and both women, turning to him, saw his face
deadly pale, but drawn with suffering, and great
beads of sweat standing upon his brow.
HOW BLOOD TOLD. 143
"Oh! How careless I am!" Val cried, seizing
the bottle of lotion and throwing back the light
covering from the leg on the improvised litter,
stretching beyond the front seat on her left. "I
have neglected to moisten his bandage and its pres-
sure pains him."
But her own face grew paler than his, as a
glance showed her the tight cloths, not dry, but
soaked with deep red blood, already beginning to
ooze through and drip slowly upon the cushion.
But the good old Virginian blood that had de-
serted the girl's cheeks had not fled from her brave
heart; and, crying to the mule, she dropped the
reins and resolutely grasped the bleeding limb
with both hands. Passing the left beneath to raise
it gently, she felt along above the bandage with
her right hand, and pressed it firm and strong upon
the course of the great artery. Then, even before
Mrs. Courtenay could si^eak, she cried sharply:
"Wythe! Ride for your life: The hospital
camp must be near — straight ahead ! Bring a sur-
geon! Quick!"
"What is it?" Wythe asked; open-eyed at the
tone, as she urged the restive war-horse close to
the mule.
"The artery! Tell him to bring tourniquet and
silk!" Val w^hispered rapidly, but never turning
her head. "Ride fast! 'Tis life or death."
With her words, the younger girl struck her
144 CRAG-NEST.
horse sharply with the SAvitch; he bounded away
at full gallop and passed beyond sight in the fad-
ing twilight, his rider's light form swaying to his
fierce stride.
"Don't trouble — oh-h! You can do — ^uoth-
ing!" the sick soldier murmured faintly, as another
fluttering spasm passed his face. But he bit his
mustache grimly and took a deep breath, as Mrs.
Courtenay bathed his forehead and said gently:
"Cheer up. Cousin Wirt! Your horse is fresh
and she will be back soon. It is only a trifle."
What might have been a smile quivered the
gray hairs, as his teeth released them; and he an-
swered in half gasps:
"Trifles make up — the sum of life — or death!
Don't trouble — Yal — brave — "
Again his eyes closed, as his voice died away in
a long sigh; and the matron felt his brow cold and
clammy.
But Yal Courtenay heard the lessening thud of
rapid hoofs die away, with a feeling of despairing
desolation weighing on brain and heart. How far
it was to the camp she could only guess; some miles
at least; and the crimson ooze was slowly spread-
ing over her upper hand, warm and sticky; while
it sent great, thick drops trickling upon her lower
arm. And with dull, sickening sense she felt her
left hand suddenly cramp and the muscles of both
arms quiver; and her brain reeled with rapid con-
jecture of the horse's speed and the lead-like min-
HOW BLOOD TOLD. 146
utes that must pass before succor could arrive.
With the thought, she grew dizzy and her eyes
closed one instant. The next, she braced herself,
body and mind; and, tightening her grasp and
pressure, the girl gradually turned herself around ;
kneeling on the footboard to face her patient and
giving the muscles of her back and arms, at the
same time, rest and fuller strength.
And still the cruel, red stream oozed slowly
through the bandage, creeping up toward her
elbow and dropping heavy and dull upon the rug
below; and she felt the artery jump and throb
beueath her other hand, as though struggling to be
free and jet out, at one gush, the dearly-prized
life for which she fought. Not one word escaped
her tightly pressed lips and clinched teeth. Her
quick intuition told her she had grappled with a
force beyond her strength; that, in the death strug-
gle with it she must husband ever}- jot of nerve and
muscle and will; and — with that calmness which
comes to rare natures in the presence of deadly
peril — she closed her eyes and forced back calcula-
tion of distance and horse's speed, lest thought
even might drain the strength so sorely needed.
But her aunt, pale and trembling, softly bathed
the now cold forehead — passing an old-time vin-
aigrette before the quivering nostrils, as she
whispered:
"Are you easy, my cousin?"
10
146 CRAG-NEST.
For only answer came a long, shuddering sigh;
but the veteran lay still and calm, as the hand the
old lady had taken fell limp and nerveless beside
him, its pulse barely a thin, flickering thread. But
Val felt the artery beneath her hand still pumping
piston-like and fierce with every beat of the true
old heart; and she pressed down firmer still and
braced her heels against the dashboard, as racking
pain began to pass up both arms and into her
shoulders.
Suddenly the colonel shivered; then drew a
deep, quivering breath, holding it with effort as
he faltered faintly:
''Don't, child — thanks — trouble — all over soon
now — "
Again he was still, as the fast fading dusk
deepened into night; and Yal — opening her eyes
an instant — could scarce distinguish the dim out-
line of her aunt, bending above the sufferer in the
phaeton's shadow. And velvet-shod, but leaden-
footed, the minutes dragged themselves along; the
two brave women holding their fearful vigil in
that thick darkness, unrelieved by even one ray of
hope. For, though neither spoke, each felt the
other knew how slender the thread on which that
precious life was hanging — the pressure of one
finger of a weak girl's hand!
Then suddenly the matron whispered, calmly
and low out of the darkness:
HOW BLOOD TOLD. 147
"Val! he has fainted!"
Still the girl did not speak. Her jaws seemed
locked, her lips glued together; a hideous, racking
flame shooting from her arms, shrinking her
shoulders and searing her very spine! A dull
roaring as of distant surf boomed in her ears and
throbbed upon her brain. But the marvelous
strength of will beat down body and brain, before
the inexorable need to bend all power of both to
that terrible pressure on the artery.
More minutes passed. At length the cold,
shivering dread crept about her heart; beating
down all barriers of will and sense and duty to let
in the hideous fact. She could not hold out much
longer. Minutes seemed hours; and the searing
fire in her arms and spine scorched with agony
not long to be endured. Clammy moisture
thickened on her brow, trickling over her cold face
and — as she knew, shudderingly — sapping her
strength still more. Louder and faster boomed
the surf-sounds on her brain; her throat grew
parched and seemed to close; the moisture from
her wet hair dropping as from storm-soaked leaves.
Thought, quickened by dread, shrieked at her from
within that she was hunmn — ^weak — must fail!
Keeping time with the now lessening throbs of
the artery, each thump of her laboring heart
seemed to jump into her throat, choking and sick-
ening; and she grew dizzy as she saw — through
148 CRAG-KEST.
her closed lids — her own grip relax and great
dazzling spurts of crimson flash by her eyes, bear-
ing in them the remnants of life still left to him!
But the grip of her hands — spasmodic and
mechanical now— closed upon the bleeding thigh
until they buried themselves in the firm muscles.
But — through it all the pure woman's soul never
once lifted itself to the Throne's foot in supplica-
tion. It was a grim death-grapple of nerve and
muscle only with death. She dared not turn one
thought away, for one brief second, from that
fierce, relentless pressure.
She had no time to pray !
Ages — aeons of ages — bore down upon her
through that darkness; numbing brain and heart
and soul —
"How long, O Lord! How long?"
Then, through the black silence crashed a
sound. Horses' hoofs, at a mad gallop, struck the
road above. Nearer they came, clattering along-
side; lanterns swinging high above their riders.
"Here we are! Quick, Martin; the tourniquet!"
Surgeon Patterson cried, throwing his horse upon
his haunches and swinging from saddle. "That's
right; fill that hypodermic, Johnson! Here,
Martin, hold my case and get a suture! Hold the
lantern, madam!"
As he spoke, the surgeon had thrown back the
HO \V BLOOD TOLD. 149
phaeton's folding top, swung his lantern over the
colonel's pallid face and placed firm finger on his
pulse. Mrs. Courtenay, deadly pale and breathing
laboriously, took the lamp from his hand, as she
gasped :
"Is he dead?"
"Bosh! Good as two dead men! Close shave
though. Why, miss — "
He never finished the sentence. Val Courte-
nay opened her eyes one second. The next she had
fallen stark and cold across the wheel; only the
burly surgeon's quick motion saving its striking
her head.
"Lay her on the grass, Johnson! Head low.
Quick here! No time to lose. This is a flood!"
He had turned to the colonel again; passing a
keen knife under the bandage as he spoke. Its
pressure removed, the jetting blood spun high
above his head in ruby spray. Next instant the
tourni(iuet was around the thigh; the knife was
through the lips of the wound; and the forceps had
gripped the ruptured edges of the artery.
"Ah! That's it; now the silk, Martin. Move,
Johnson! Yes, the hj^podermic; in his left side-
quick! There we are! and a d — d close shave!"
Ten minutes later an ambulance clattered up;
strong arms lifted the wounded man and laid him
gently on the wide mattress. Then the surgeon
turned courteously to the ladies — no longer the
150 CBAG-NISST.
field-surgeon; the mechanical life-saving automa-
ton:
"My clear Mrs. Courtenay, have no fear. Bu-
ford prepared this trap for his own use; so you
may be sure it is comfortable. He will be as safe
and easy there as under your own roof. By the
way, Martin, is there anything in the locker?
These ladies probably have not supped. As for
you, jNIiss Courtenay" — he turned to Yal, gently
taking her hand and pressing the pulse: — "Um!
You must take another little nip of that toddy I
gave you just now. Don't be alarmed; this is not
army brandy, but from my own cellar."
As he spoke he poured a portion in a graduated
glass, dropping some aromatic tincture from a
phial: "Take that, please! Thank you. And per-
mit me to say, miss, that I am pretty well accus-
tomed to bravery; but you are — a hero!"
The girl's pale face did not change at the words;
but her dark eyes gleamed eagerly in the lamp-
light, as she asked:
"Have you saved him?"
"No, miss; emphatically / have not. I have
eased him and prevented bad results, I believe.
But I am sure — you saved him!"
With courteous kindliness he assisted the
ladies into the ambulance, passing in a lantern, as
he said:
"No, madam; do not fan him. For a man with
now BLOOD TOLD. 151
that little blood, the night air is cool enough. Miss
Courtenay, wet his lips with this frequently; if he
swallows some it will not kill him, eh?"
''Oh! sir," Yal suddenly cried, ''where is my
little cousin?"
"Where you will be presently, I hope," he an-
swered smiling. "In bed in my tent, in charge
of a Red Cross nurse. The brave little lady in-
sisted on piloting me; but I knew^ speed was es-
sential, and she has had ride enough for one night
on that mastodon of the colonel's. Now, ladies,
we must move. He is all right, for the present;
and I will ride by your side. Make yourselves at
home. This ambulance is yours, until you reach
Reb — Confederate lines; and — if Gordon will
countersign that pass I gave — until you reach the
Richmond railroad!"
162 CRAO-NEST.
CHAPTER XIII.
A morning's misadventures.
Once more the war-dogs are in leash across
the devoted Valley; tugging fiercely at restraint
and equally eager for the death-grapple.
Time, that stays for no man, has swept warm
September aside, and the mellow days of mid-Oc-
tober are basking down upon old Three Top Moun-
tain, where Early has his signal station. That
grim old Confederate has massed his troops below
and northward ; stretching away his advanced line
almost to Cedar Creek, where General Wright
holds the further bank with Sheridan's advance.
For, after his victory on the Opequon, the Federal
general had struck but once in force — at Fisher's
Hill; and Eosser's disaster at Tom's Kun — deris-
ively dubbed the "Woodstock Races" by the vic-
tors — was merely an exaggerated skirmish be-
tween the now admirable cavalry of the enemy
and the demoralized and half-dismounted squad-
rons of the South.
Why his victory-flushed army — reinforced and
splendidly equipped — had not been pushed for-
ward before his own shattered columns could be
reorganized and strengthened, the Confederate
A 3fORyiXGS MISADYEXTURES. 153
could only wonder. He did not comprehend the
vast power of the political upon the military situ-
ation, beyond the Potomac; or that popular clamor
was loud, at the North, against Lee's long resist-
ance to Grant's sledge-hammer blows against the
very back door to Richmond. And that fighter —
as well as Mr. Lincoln and Secretary Stanton —
persistently warned "Little Phil" that his next
blow" must not be to maim, but to destroy.
The southern situation, still niore grave, held
the protection^ of the Valley — equally the granary
and transportation line, as the bulwark against
that advance on Lee — to mean the salvation of
the Confederate capital.
Early — reinforced by fresh troops, and given
full time to reorganize his beaten veterans — was
now in better condition for defense, or aggression,
than at any moment since his Opequon defeat.
The spirit of his tattered and half-starved men
was better also; new levies, equally with old sol-
diers of Jackson's Valley wars — being eager to be
loosed upon their successful and arrogant enemy.
During the lull, however, frequent heavy skir^
mishes had taken place between the cavalry, feel-
ing each other's lines; some of them obstinate and
bloody, but all resultless upon the suspenseful sit-
uation, until the 13tli of October. That day, Ker-
shaw's tough old division struck Torbert's at
Hupp's Hill, driving it in demoralized retreat, and
154 CJiAG-NEST.
leaving General Wright in anxious seat at Cedar
Creek.
The opportunity had come at last; and, only the
third dawn, Confederate signal flags on Three Top
flai)ped out that historic dispatch to Early:
"Be ready to move as soon as I join you, and we
will crush Sheridan. Longstreet, Lieutenant-
General."
But other e^^es than those meant saw the flags;
tlie spy-stolen code gave its purport to Wright,
and the best mounted courier was soon bearing it
to Sheridan, at Front Royal. But Earl}^ was igno-
rant of this; and equally of the fact that Sheridan
— sending all cavalry but his escort to Wright, and
confident that Longstreet could not make his com-
bination before his return — was speeding away to
Washington for a conference with Mr. Lincoln and
the war secretary.
In war, as in love, "trifles light as air, are con-
firmation strong"; and the Federal general rode
away, while his grim opponent pushed forward.
So it fell out that, at dawn two days later, a
scouting column trotted briskly out of a by-road,
on to the Yalley pike. At its head rode Fraser
Ravanel; three stars upon his collar now. For his
delay at Crag-Nest, when Ziek saved his horse,
had proved a blessing in disguise, and he had been
just in time to cut off the fugitives of his own brig-
ade that night. Massing them with some of Cal-
A MORNING'S MISADVENTURES. 165
vert's cooler veterans, and ably aided by Rob
Maury, he had turned them upon the over-confi-
dent pursuit; first checking, then driving it back
down the same road, broken and demoralized.
This service had won his transfer and promotion
to lieutenant-(^olonel of Calvert's old corps, and his
signal gallantry at Fisher's Hill — when his colonel
fell and he held Merritt off Early's rear for hours —
added the third star.
By Colonel Eavanel's side rode Rob Maury; his
collar, too, decorated with' an extra bar, for the
youth's good service had gained his step, and he
was now captain and adjutant of his brigade.
"I am glad we heard from the old colonel, yes-
terday," he was saying, as they trotted on. "By
George! What a constitution he has, to rally so,
after such a bleeding! They were lucky to get
through the very night before Fisher's Hill. And
isn't Yal a real heroine, colonel, to act as she did?"
"Your cousin is a brave woman," the senior
answered gravely.
"She's one woman in a thousand," the other
stated warmly. "If the Confederacy holds an-
other like her, and she's young enough, I'll lay my
captaincy at her feet, for better or worse. By the
way, colonel, didn't I understand her to say that
you two had met in Richmond?"
"Yes, three years ago, at Judge Brooke's," was
the quiet answer. "But we are nearing the enemy.
156 CRAG-NEST.
sir; and they must be close enough to keep our
eyes open. Close up the squad and warn the offi-
cers
!"
liob rode rearward on that duty; soon return-
ing and riding again beside his commander, as
they turned a curve of the mountain road; descend-
ing to more level country — black and burned, with
no obstruction to the view, but muddy and heavy
from recent rain.
"Look!" he cried suddenly-, pointing to a dis-
tant cabin across fields- and far beyond clear view.
"A Yankee trooper's horse, I judge, from the
covered saddle," Colonel Kavanel answered, low-
ering his field glass. "I can not make him out
plainly, but — his rider would not be alone."
''Unless a scout, sir!" l\ob exclaimed eagerly.
"He's a find, anyway. Let me cut him out!"
A nod was the reph^, and the adjutant — quickly
choosing four men of the best mounted — ^spurred
at the fragment of fence, the five taking it almost
together, but a tall gray landing just ahead of
Val's pet sorrel.
Next instant Captain Robert Maury was stone-
blind, the morning breeze whistling by his ears,
but sound his only guide, as heavy hoofs slumped
on before and behind him. The field was of rough
furrows, changed to mud by the late rain; and the
gray's heels had hurled two goodly portions of it
full into the open eyes of the squad commander.
A MORNING'8 MISADVENTURES. 157
Blinded completely — but feeling increased stride
of his own ambitious horse, on seeing the gray pass
— Rob clung with knee and only steadied his sor-
rel, soothing him by voice and hand. On they
rushed, splashing and floundering here; increas-
ing speed again, as sounder footing offered. And
Rob — fuming inwardly, but too proud to order
slackened speed — heard another horse close be-
hind. Then his own took a ditch in his stride,
speeding away again; and, suddenly he seemed to
mount into the air to tremendous height — to skim
across space for many seconds; then to light again
and rush onward with a cheery snort. In inky
darkness, the rider clung with knee and thigh; but
— not knowing what might be before him — he
dared not loose the rein; and his wrinkled old
gauntlet only smeared the clay more closely over
his smarting optics, as his right hand essayed to
clear them.
Then — after what seemed to him many miles of
furious rush, broken ever and anon by sudden
leaps — a voice ahead cried:
"Ware fence! She's stiff!"
Rob's right gauntlet was between his teeth,
and he quickly drew away his free hand, at the
same moment loosing the rein and throwing the
mud from his eyes with a snap of both hands.
Dimly, he saw the rail fence — uninjured there —
rise stiff and high, ten yards away, barely in time
158 CRAG-NEST.
to grasp the rein and lift the panting horse to the
leap.
And on the other side stood the negro cabin,
the coveted j^rize hitched before it, still and quiet.
Already the graj^'s rider had reined up and slung
himself from saddle; and Rob's weeping eyes
showed him a sorry, low-headed black, covered
with an old India-rubber. Saddle and accoutre-
ments, there were none; and the eager hands that
tore away the rubber disclosed the hideous sore
back of an abandoned cavalry steed.
^'Take the rubber, sergeant," he ordered
quickly. "He's your prize; and a pretty goose
chase we've had!" He turned in saddle, try-
ing to make out his column; but the curving road
hid them, and he added:
''We can cut them off by that path ahead. It
joins the main pike near Crag-Nest. Mount, men
— Forward !"
"That path will bring us in the road a mile
ahead of 'em, sir!" the sergeant answered, re-
mounting. "I know the way; escaped a Yankee
scout there in August."
It proved he was right, for the squad emerged
into the empty pike; no sign of friend or foe visible,
though the dull tramp of moving horses came float-
ing over the ravines from up the road. But
Maury's quick ear caught another sound, coming
from below ; and he bent low over his pommel, list-
ening intently.
A MORNING'S MISADVENTURES. 169
"Horses; a good party!" he said briefly.
"Steady! men — they must be Yanks. None of ours
so far down."
Carbines were unslung and ready, and the cap-
tain — revolver in hand and sitting lilvo a statue,
as the sounds of hoofs each way grew nearer and
more clear — saw a Federal scouting squadron ap-
proach at rapid trot, the early sun glinting on car-
bine and vizor.
"Steady, men!" he cried. "Hold your fire!
They &.re far out of range — and too many for us;
but we'll give them one volley before we break
for our — "
As he spoke, a single red flash shone out from
the front of the rapid-moving line of blue; the
words stilled abruptly on Maury's lips and he fell
back upon his horse's croup, as the bay reared
nearly upright, with the sudden tug upon his bit.
As he came down, the rider's hand relaxed; and,
throwing out his freed head, the horse wheeled
round, flying up the pike in mad run.
On sped the line of blue, their fresh horses gain-
ing on the flying squad; their cracking carbines
sending bullets whizzing by the fugitives. Closer,
clearer beat the hoofs behind; swifter and more
near whizzed the bullets, two of them striking with
that dull, woody thud that tells of torn flesh.
Rob Maury's spasmodic knee-grip, and his
heavy boots, held him in the deep saddle; but —
160 CRAG-NEST.
the chase close upon them — a ball grazed the bay's
flank. Swerving at the smart, he slung his inert
rider from him, stiff and stark, and falling prone
at the roadside.
Ravanel — a mile away around the curve —
heard the firing; closing up his ranks, trotting
briskly but carefully toward it, his squadrons
drawn across the road, carbines at a ready. A
brief space, and rounding the curve sped on the
wild-flying squad; some wounded, but all panic
struck. Next instant the bleeding hSij dashed up,
nickering piteously; and the soldier's quick glance
showed him his prostrate comrade, two hundred
yards away, the blue line spurring down, close
upon him.
With that glance the Carolinian rose in his stir-
rups, swinging his sabre high, as he roared:
"Squadron! Aim, fire!"
A quick volley rang out from the front line;
the troops nearing rapidly, as the Federals re-
turned it. And again the colonel's voice — no
longer soft and low, but with the bugle ring in it —
gave the quick commands:
"Cease firing! Draw sabres! Gallop: Charge!"
Spurring ahead, he waved his sabre; and, as
a hundred blades flashed out and up, men let out
their eagerness in a wild yell, that sent a thousand
echoes flying through the hills.
"We'll give them the steel, sir!" Ravanel mut-
A MORNING'S MISADVENTURt:S. 161
tered to the troop captain near him; then, turning
in saddle, again he swung his sword, his voice
ringing above clank and hoof:
^^At 'em, boys! Remember Opequon! Save
Maury's body!"
On rushed the opposing horsemen, lessening the
gap with every bound; continuous flash of carbine
sheering the blue line; the gray firing no shot, as
here and there men dropped from saddle.
And now the blue had swung by Rob Maury's
prostrate body, shutting it from sight; the lines
scarce fifty yards apart, when the Federals swing
out, and Ravanel's face — already- flushed with ugly
fire of the gladiator — suddenly grows pale. Over
it sweeps something more fierce and fell than bat-
tle j)assion. The long jaws set hard, as the white
teeth close upon the black mustache; the right
hand closer grips the long, keen sabre, and the
spurs dig fiercer in the black's panting sides, as
the eyes, blazing with evil light, fall upon the
Federal leader.
Splendidly mounted, sturdy and compact —
with heavy brow and dissipated look — the blue-
coat rides well and recklessly to the coming fray.
But suddenly, his eye, too, takes in the opposing
commander, and a deep flush stains his ruddy face
an instant, leaving it deadly pale, as his hand me-
chanically checks his horse. It is but one in-
stant. The next, a black scowl knits his brow,
11
162 CRAG-NEST.
the dogged brutality of the prize ring settling on
his face.
And then — the lines almost in contact — Rava-
nel rises in stirrups and drives full at him.
There is a hideous shock as of two angry waves
striking their crests. Huge dust-clouds rise and
hang above the rushing squadrons — crash of steel
and crunch of hoof; groan of man and scream of
wounded beast rising through — as the columns
strike each other. Fierce is the melee, as steel
hews flesh, and blow and parry and oath make Pan-
demonium for a while! Then the gray line is
forced slowly back, fighting each foot of way.
But in the press and rush, Ravanel is borne past
the opponent at whom he aimed; their sabres
clashing once as they sweep by. But the Caroli-
nian's is already red, and again a burly trooper
tumbles from his steed before it, as spurring from
right to left, he nerves his wavering men by voice
and mien. They press back the foe steadily and
slow; and then — by accident of battle — the leaders
meet again.
"Cur! I have found you!" Ravanel mutters
through set teeth, as swift turn of his wrist and
touch of the opposite spur swing the black half
round and the heavy Federal sabre shears down
past his shoulder with an ugly "whoo!" But ere
it is raised, his own keen point has struck the
other's breast, passing clean through until the hilt
A MORNING'S MTSADVENTURES. 163
grates on his aguilette, and the heavy form, lurch-
ing from saddle, almost unseats him, as the blade
snaps close to hilt.
Quickly Eavanel drew his pistol, as the blue-
coats doggedly bore back; the black, bridleless,
bounding for\Yard to the spur. Suddenly a sheet
of flame shot close before his eyes; a deafening
roar, as of a shell exploding in his very face; and
he knew no more!
It was midnight when the Carolinian feebly
opened his eyes, dull and heavy from combined
effect of opiates and a long gashed wound across
his skull. For a moment he was dazed, gazing
dully at familiar faces of his own camp. Then
slowly reaction came, and he made a feeble effort
to rise, as he muttered:
"Did we beat them?"
"Not much," the old surgeon by his side
growled grimly. "We were driving them when
you were hit; and then our boys broke like turkeys.
It was a miracle that Caskie Cullen ever got you
from under their feet and brought you out on
his pommel! But you must be quiet; here, take
this!"
The wounded man lay apathetic, till the sur-
geon ceased. Then there was a red gleam in the
eyes he opened slowl}^, as he asked low:
"And their commander?"
"Oh! he's all right," the surgeon answered
164 CRA(jI^-NE8T.
grimly.. "If your thrust had not killed him, he
must have been trampled to death."
And the sick man, closing his eyes once more,
turned his back to the speaker, muttering as
though to himself:
"I hicic I would find him — at last!"
THE RIDE WITH SHERIDAN. ] 65
CHAPTER XIA^.
THE RIDE WITH SHERIDAN.
The surgeon's account of the skirmish was ac-
curate, as far as it went, but the cause of the Con-
federate break was not only the fall of their leader,
for their front line saw a heavj^ mass of infantry —
warned by the firing — advancing up the road at
double quick. This was a full brigade, forced-
marching toward Cedar Creek; and with one vol-
ley after the flying gray jackets, it reformed,
marching straight south. By the time its ambu-
lance corps reached the field, the cavalry bugle
had sounded the recall, and the troopers were car-
ing for their wounded. The Southron's sabre was
drawn from the body of their dead leader, and it
was carefully laid in an ambulance, covered with
an overcoat from his saddle. And just then a
trooper further off found Rob Maury's body, lying
close beneath a boulder by the roadside, wholly
untouched by passing hoofs.
"Gosh! The Johnny wore good boots," he
cried. "Guess I'll borrow 'um."
He stooped as he spoke, raising the right leg
roughly and tugging fiercely at the high, damp
boot, when suddenly, to his great surprise, the left
leg drew up bending at the knee.
166 CRA(jt-NEIST.
"Darned ef I ever seed a corpse kick before,"
he cried, starting back: "Fli! doctor!" he called to
a surgeon passing, "look at this Johnny, dead as
a mackerel and kickin' like a steer."
The man of science approached, leaned over the
prostrate Confederate and raised his hand. On
release, it fell back like lead, and he answered:
"That bine spot in his forehead means instant
death; ball must have penetrated his brain. It
must be the contents of your canteen that kicked,
Chalmers."
"Wish 'twas," the trooper answered ruefully.
"Hain't had no grog to-day. But, doctor, darned
ef he didn't kick when I nabbed his boot!"
"Death rigor supervening," the doctor an-
swered with a wise look, as he stooped again,
thrusting a rough finger into the small blue hole
on his subject's forehead ; but the knowing expres-
sion changed to a puzzled one, as he muttered:
"Hard substance; ball must have lodged in the
bone. He is warm, too; strange case. Here men!
Tumble this Rebel into that ambulance; there is
plenty of room."
He was promptly obeyed; and the hospital
corps turned back, moving slowly north.
It was late at night when Kob Maury opened
his eyes feebly. With great effort he raised to his
elbow on the rough army cot, staring around him
and trying to remember. That he had a splitting
THE RIDE WITH SHERIDAN. 167
headache and horrible nausea, he knew ; but where
was he? The place seemed familiar; the shape
of the long, narrow ward and the high, sashed
sides — spite of the shattered i)anes — reminded
him — . Yes, it was the conservatory at Crag-Nest.
But how did he get there? Was Wythe Dandridge
near by to — . Eesistless nausea and dizziness
overcame him and he fell back upon the straw
pillow.
Shortly after, the surgeon who had first found
him passed down the ward, making his report to
the chief surgeon:
"Yes, sir. Colonel Clayton's body lies in the par-
lor there; the two officers are laid out in the hall;
the wounded men are in this ward, all except these
two." He paused at the very last cot, next to
which lay the now insensible Confederate. "This
is a bad case; a courier from the rear who rode in
here speechless. That gash in his forehead is
enough to finish him — singular, doctor, how many
head wounds there are in our arm of service; but
he had a pistol ball through the lungs that will
end him by morning, anyway. Here's another odd
case," he turned to Kob's cot taking up his limp
hand. "A Rebel officer picked up after the skirm-
ish with a bullet imbedded in the frontal bone. I
suppose he is dead by this time. Ought to have
died in an hour; but these Johnnies are tough."
The older soldier leaned over the wounded pris-
168 CRAO-NEST.
oner, feeling the penetrated forehead; then care-
fully taking the pulse:
"He seems to me pretty far from a dead man,
doctor," he said quietly. "The ball may not have
penetrated; simply contused. Queer case; we can
examine him in the morning, and he may walk
about Camp Chase yet." And the pair passed
along the ward, forgetting the two subjects in their
discussion of new ones.
It was past midnight when Rob Maury again
opened his eyes — this time without pain — and
peered curiously into the dim shadows of the im-
provised ward, trying to recall the strange chances
that brought him back to the familiar spot — yet
so changed! He was still dizzy but felt no wound
or pain; only strange weakness when he sat up in
his cot. So, he lay quietly back, closing his eyes;
and rapidly memory rushed clearly back to the
morning's ride, his chase for the worthless horse,
the approach of the enemy's scout, and the numb-
ing blow that struck him from saddle and left all
after it a blank. That he was a prisoner, he feared,
but he could only conjecture how his capture came
about; whether there had been a battle, in the un-
known interval; if Ravanel's party had been taken,
too.
Long he lay dull and inert; even thought an
effort. Then he heard a small body of horse gallop
rapidly up; the challenge of the guard and call for
THE RIDE WITH SHERIDAN. 169
its officer. Soon "Boots and Saddles" sounded,
close followed by "To Horse!" A sergeant
clanked down before the ward, recalling the guard,
and there was all the orderly haste of a sudden
night mount.
Eising to his elbow, Maury stared through the
shattered sash-work to tlie huge bonfire before the
house; seeing the men collect from all points, as
the bugle again cut the night with clear note of
the "Assembly," as the officers conferred in haste.
Then it sounded the signal, "March!" and the col-
umn filed away, shadowy, into the night beyond;
leaving only a few nurses and disabled men about
the fire.
The ward lay still as death; the badly hurt
men breathing dully under opiates, or too agonized
to note aught outside. But a slight movement in
the next cot caught Rob's ear; and in the dim light
he saw the wounded scout struggling to rise and
trying to call. Then, with labored gasps, he spoke:
"Comrade! Quick! — I'm — going — fast! For
God's sake dispatch^ — "
lie fell back stiff; and Rob, nerving himself,
slipped from his cot and leaned over the sufferer,
the night wind cooling his brain. And again, with
last effort, the scout spoke — each word a gasp:
"I'm Echols — Sheridan's scout — God's sake —
dispatch — jacket lining — take my horse — roan
Thil'— "
170 CRAG-NEST.
There was a gurgle in his throat. He lay gasp-
ing heavily, with wide staring eyes; and Rob me-
chanically took the clammy hand in his. The
scout feebly pressed it, closing his eyes a moment.
Then, with great effort, he raised his head —
wrapped in blood-soaked bandage, and gasped out:
"General Wright — by day-break to — save army!
— ride, comrade — all up with — me — Ah!"
A gush of blood came from his lips, flooding
his breast, his head fell back and the jaw dropped.
Echols had died "on duty!"
Still faint and dizzy, strangely weak in legs
and back, the Confederate stood for a few seconds
as still as the dead man, whose grip still held his
hand. But. the chaos of thought quickly took
form, as the night wind braced his nerves and a
great emergency rose before him. Then — with
one cautious glance about the deserted Avard and
another at the chattering group about the fire — he
softly reached for the blue coat and breeches hang-
ing at the dead scout's head.
Stooping in the shadow between the cots, sore
of limb and again dizzy with the effort, Rob drew
on the clothes, reached for the dead man's boots
and pulled them on. The men chanced to be about
the same size; and the transformed Rebel, rising
carefully, passed his hand across the cold, dropped
jaw of the corpse. To his joy, he found the face
beardless as his own; and his nerves tingled with
THE RIDE WITH SHERIDAN. 171
a tonic thrill, as his hand went to the breast of his
jacket and felt the dispatch crinkle and twist
under his touch.
What the paper might be he could not stop to
guess. It was from Sheridan to Wright; the dy-
ing words: ^'■^j daybreak — to save army!" rang
in his ears, and he knew Ms general must read it
before that hour, and then — . His weakened brain
throbbed in his ears at the possibility of what his
work might accomplish; and, taking the Federal's
broad felt hat, he pulled it low over his own brow.
Then, for the first time, Rob Maury felt the sore-
ness of his forehead; the puncture in the skin, that
thrilled down his very spine at the touch, and he
realized that the shot that stunned him must have
been spent by distance and failed to penetrate the
bone.
But quick moving thought did not delay him,
and he began to turn softly away, buckling the
scout's sabre as he moved between the cots.
Suddenly he paused, glanced at his own empty
place and turned back, muttering to himself:
"He must escape, not I."
Just then a sufferer beyond groaned piteously,
begging for water; and swiftly Rob stooped be-
tween the cots, scarce breathing, as great drops of
sweat broke out upon his brow. What if he should
fail — be recognized as a Rebel! That would mean
hanging, for Mosby's reprisals were on every
172 CRAO-NE8T.
tongue, and he was in Federal uniform. But that
thought — a mere bagatelle of war's chances — was
swept by that of the dispatch, and his heart grew
cold with fear of failure — that he could not de-
liver it to Gordon in time.
Grasping that precious paper — that salvation
of Wright's army — through the thick cloth, the
boy lay still a few seconds, that seemed hours.
Then the plaintive cry for water ceased, and Rob —
assured that the man had fainted or died — slowly
drew the rough sheet from his own cot; rising to
his knees and bracing every muscle in his still
throbbing back. Softly and slow he slipped both
arms beneath the body of the scout, already grow-
ing cold and stiff in death rigor. Then with the
strength of desperation — braced by the grave, un-
known meaning of that paper — he raised the
corpse slowly, twisted it about, and —
Suddenly a cannon, clear but distant, sounded
on the night; and the gossipers about the fire arose
with one accord.
Motionless — great beads upon his brow, from
strain on brain and muscle — the boy stood breath-
less, holding his ghastly burthen. If one man
came in, all was lost! He would swing from a
limb; worse — Gordon would not get the dispatch!
But the men stood listening; speaking low and
nervously, as another distant gun boomed out.
And its dull echo thundered at the boy's strained
THE RIDE WITH SHERIDAN. 173
sense: "The signal gun for attack! You will be
too late!"
With straining arms, molten lead pouring
down his spine and muscles of his thighs quivering
under their tax, he slowl}' turned the dead man;
laid him softly on his own cot and stretched his
own cramped limbs, with a deep breath of relief
and thankfulness. Then, as he threw the gray
uniform ostentatiously over his bed's head, he
slipped the stiff, red bandage from the dead man's
brow, putting it around his own. And he was the
old Kob Maury once more; for — spite of peril and
graver anxiety still to ride away — a smile curved
his lips, as he moved off, buckling on the sabre and
muttering to himself:
'^A grim masquerade; but my head's sorer than
his, poor devil!"
The men about the fire stared with some
trepidation at the tall figure that strode among
them, with clanking sabre and as though dropped
from the clouds; but the youth gave no time for
query.
"I'm Echols — General Sheridan's scout," he
said gruffly. "I'm hurt a little, but all right.
Some of you loafers get my horse — a roan; answers
to name of 'Phil.' Damn it! ]Move! I've an im-
portant dispatch for General Wright; and no time
to los'e! Hear that!"
Again the signal gun boomed out for the third
174 CRAG-NEST.
interval and the Southerner's heart jumped, as
his trained ear caught the sound of a smoothbore.
It was a southern gun from Three Top Mountain!
"I'll git yer horse, comrade," a maimed trooper
said. ''Yer don't h>olv sort o' peart, ve'self."
And soon he came back, wrestling with the bit
of a huge restive roan; high-headed and great-
necked, and snapping viciously at his leader.
"Guess ye're too weak to ride this devil," the
friendly trooper said. "Yer kin git my mare,
comrade; but she ben't fast ez him."
"Better ride my own horse, partner," Rob an-
swered briefly, eying the restive steed and noting
holster and saddle pocket unremoved.
He approached the beast that backed, planting
his feet and pulling away from approach of a
stranger; and a cold chill ran down Rob's aching
back, lest detection might ensue. Mechanically
his left hand sought the precious dispatch in his
jacket; and — nerved by the thought of lost time
and what might depend on that paper — all his
horse-sense came to him. His right hand grasped
the bit, his left hand stroking the corded, tossing
neck — then slipping down and gripping the ex-
panded muzzle, as he cried:
"aS'o-o.^ Phil! Steady, boy! Whoa, Phil!"
Next instant he had his mouth against the
quivering nostrils, breathing heavily into them;
and the Northern trooper stared at the unknown
THE RIDE WITH SHERIDAN. 175
southern trick, as the horse — whether from bold-
ness of the act or from confident touch — stood still
and docile.
"What time o' night, boys?" Kob asked as he
clambered stiffly to saddle and gathered the reins.
" 'Bout four; two hour ter sun," was the an-
swer. "Ther's ben firin' 'cross yon. Guess
Wright's movin' ter hit ther Johnnies by day."
^'Shure!" put in another. ''Custer's callin' in
every man not bad hurt. Ther foragers wuz roun'
while back, an' cleaned this yere camp. Wright's
a-movin', sure ez shootin'!"
Kob waited for no more. Signal guns from
Three Top, cavalry moving in mass along Wright's
left at Cedar Creek, Sheridan sending dispatch
"to save the army" — these were spur enough to
his intent; and he dug the trooper's sharp ones into
the brute's gides.
Away across field — over the south fence —
through well known wood and dim cross-road,
sped the roan; his huge stride eating space; his
rider more than the Wizard tells:
" He stayed not for brake, he stopped not for stone;
He swam the Eske river, where ford there is none! "
But racked by the strain, Kob's head — more
than once in that desperate two-hour race — bent
low to the horse's tense neck, as he reeled in sad-
dle and a red mist swum before his eyes. But each
176 CRAG-NEST.
time, out of that red mist rose the mysterious dis-
patch; and his closed eyes saw Gordon tearing it
open, reading eagerly — then hurling his division
at a run down upon Wright's flying columns. And,
each time, that thought straightened him up in
his seat and the spurs went home again, as his
hand clutched the paper and a thrill, as of strong
cordial, ran through his veins. But time seemed
dragging snail-like, though the cool wind whis-
tled by his ears, and he knew his detour would
bring him to the Valley pike, nearer to his goal by
many miles.
Then softly the solemn mandate that crowned
the Creation had repetition — too familiar to the
eye from all time to still the soul in wondering
awe. Along the eastern ridges showed pale gleam
of gray, brightening and broadening, until The
Voice whispered to their crests — "Let there be
light!"
The sun had barely given the Massanutten
peaks their first gilding when the roan's flying
hoofs struck the Valley pike, his nearly exhausted
rider still driving spur cruelly home. For plainer
to his ear came the dull boom of cannon; signal
guns no longer, but in continuous roar of heavy
battle.
AVho had struck? Who was stricken? Brac-
ing himself in saddle, he pulled the dispatch from
his breast, tore it open and read rapidly.
THE HIDE WITH SHERIDAN. 177
The glow came back to his cheek; the flame
to his eye, as he rose in stirrups, waving Sheridan's
dispatch aloft, on that lonely road. For it told
that the general was far off; that he would reach
Wright before Longstreet could combine with
Early; and it ordered him to hold Cedar Creek to
the last man!
Now, or never! Gordon had the advance; he
could be reached soonest. Gordon must have that
paper as fast as hoofs e'er foaled could bear it.
Knowing Sheridan's plan — but more than all, his
absence — the Gray could strike the Blue a blow
that yet might sweep him from the Valley! And
Eob again gored the roan's flanks, bending over his
neck to urge by voice and hand. Then suddenly
he turned his ear, listening intently; for over the
boom of cannon and crackle of musketry, now
plainly heard, the man's scouting instinct caught
hoof beats ahead, rapid and regular, but going
from him. Half checking his horse, the now worn
rider still smiled to himself, as he glanced at his
blue uniform; and again he loosed the roan's head
and drove the spurs home.
A turn of the road, and straight before him
sped a rider on a great black horse, foam-flecked
and racing as though for life or death.
With eyes riveted on him, Rob noted the man
was short, stout and strong, blue-clad and with
some rank marks, and riding as though a Centaur.
12
CRAG- NEST.
And, as he took this in, the other turned, gave one
sharp look, then beckoned him on, as though recog-
nized — ^yet never slackening speed.
Thought — lightning-like in peril — told him
there was but one road for him; on — ever on, with-
out stop or stay — until Gordon held that dispatch.
So, still spurring on, his right hand went out to
the saddle holster for the pistol there.
The holster was empty!
But, ere he could utter the oath upon his lips —
over the crest ahead poured angry waves of man
and horse and cannon; all in one mad rush rear-
ward — panic-struck, intermingled and rushing
back resistless! And this on-surging wave —
sweeping the road from side to side — tumbling
over itself as storm-lashed foam — drew nearer
every second.
Checking his black, the rider ahead again
waved quick command to Kob, shouting some
word unheard through the roar of panic borne
on the wind. Then, touching the spur, he
jumped the narrow canon to the left and still rode
onward through the heavy fields. And Rob — the
surging mass of fugitives close upon him — gripped
the roan closer and took the leap, behind him.
And both sped through mud and ditch and fur-
row, the roan closing on the black, as his rider
watched with bated breath for the woods-road
near and to the right.
THE RIDE WITH SHERIDAN. 179
But now the foremost horseman slackened
speed — bending low to saddle, as listening for dis-
tant guns — the roan overlapped him.
"Halt! Who are you? Where going?"
The quick words came in deep, commandful
roar, the speaker turning a full, bronzed face,
heavy-jawed and garnished with long, red-brown
mustache. And Rob, checking the roan, felt he
knew that face somehow — somewhere — as he an-
swered :
"Courier, sir, from "
"From Colonel Edwards, at Winchester. Um !
he told me. Ah! You're hit? Much hurt?
Never mind that. D — n it, you must ride! Keep
on to right. I'll find Torbert and rally these tur-
keys. You must find General Wright, or Crook!
Eide for your life, man! Tell them / am here!"
"Tell them—?"
"D— n it! are you deaf! Off with you! Tell
them — tell everybody — Phil Sheridan has come!"
Still speaking, he spurred to left, 'cross-fur-
rows, Rob Maury sitting stunned one instant.
Again his hand went to the empty holster; checked
midway by that fervid oath, before unuttered.
He had been riding a mile behind Philip Sher-
idan; had taken orders from his lips; was still in
touching distance and — he had no weapon!
Then quick revulsion came. The dispatch
might not be vital now, but the news would be
180 CRAG-NE8T.
grave indeed, that Sheridan was bacl^;, rallying the
rout!
Again the spur! Again the wild and scarce
broken rush; the road above blue with flying
Federals, the boom of cannon at the front louder,
but less frequent, with every bound. Then came
a lull; the mass of fugitives seemed past, while
to the left, as far as the eye could reach, the reel-
ing columns halted, cheered and formed, as the
great black steed flashed by them — its rider wav-
ing his cap!
Straight to right the roan flies, crossing the
pike. Close before him lies Cedar Creek, its
southern bank gray with rank on rank at swing-
ing run; and the curdling "Rebel yell" cheers him
like wine! Into the stream, through it, plunges
the roan — clambering up the bank, his now ex-
hausted rider clinging to his mane. Then on
again, straight for the lines of the gray; that blue-
clad rider waving wildly the white cloth stained
with Echols' blood.
Hands seize the reins, bayonets bristle at his
face; but careless of them, dizzy, faint, he pants:
"Take me to the general! — Great news! —
Quick!"
They lead him to a little knoll, where grouped
officers sit in serious council; the central horse-
man tall, lank and grim. His keen, gray eyes
seem to pierce the deserter, as he pushes the damp.
THE RIDE WITH SHERIDAN. 181
dark hair back from a great, bold forehead; and
the full, stern lips show beneath the gray-streaked
mustache and stiff, long beard.
"General, a Yankee deserter! He claims to
have news."
"I have, sir;" Rob breaks in feeblj^ "General
Sheridan is in — "
"You're late, fellow!" the stern lips reply
gruflfly. "We knew yesterday he is in Washing-
ton—"
"No, sir! On this field — just ridden to his left
for Torbert to rally the — "
"Who are you?" roars the Confederate Com-
mander of the Valley, with many a bounding oath.
"How do I know you are not a liar, you
traitor to your own — "
Reeling in saddle, the other straightens up to
salute and answers:
"I am Captain Maury, adjutant-general of Cal-
vert's brigade, sir! Escaped from Yankee hos-
pital last night; rode miles with Sheridan — this
horse his scout's — spoke with him — have his mes-
sage for — Wright — or "
An officer caught him as he fell frcm the roan;
the general, gathering his own horse as he roared:
"Sheridan back! the old rat! he has walked
into the trap, by !* General, double
quick your division and form on Kershaw's right!
* Fact. Early's words on learning Sheridan's return.
182 CRAO-NE8T.
Harrison, gallop to front and sound the recall
along the whole line! Look to the boy! D
it! he's Avorth a regiment of scouts! Major, ask
General Gordon to hurry all his artillery to the
right! Forward, gentlemen! This time, we will
crush Sheridan !"
'a RICHMOND "STARVATION'S'' RESULTS. 183
CHAPTER XV.
A RICHMOND " STARVATION'S "' RESULTS.
"Yes, Cousin Wirt, Coulter Brooke's to have a
'starvation' on Friday, and you are specially in-
vited, if you cauH walk a polonaise with a grander
lady than the Russian Crown Princess!"
And Miss Wythe Dandridge gave the mistress
of Crag-Nest a resounding kiss, and just touched
her lips to Colonel Calvert's mustache, as she sat
by his wheel-chair at the officers' hospital.
The veteran looked all himself again; rosy,
fresh and only lacking battle-tan. The gray mus-
tache — longer than ever, but more carefully
tended — swept healthy and smooth-shaven cheeks,
and the deep eyes danced under shadow of the
bushy white brows, with kindly merriment, as he
answered :
"I kiss Miss Coulter's dainty hand, Miss Dan-
dridge. But we are not so sure about that polon-
aise; eh. Cousin Virginia? This old thigh of mine
must be all right right now; and I'll try a few
steps with Doctor Carter, when he makes his next
round."
"You well know, Cousin Wirt, how I would
rejoice, were you able to dance," Mrs. Courtenay
184 CRAG-NEST.
answered with a grave smile; sighing softly as she
added, ^'or to ride again."
"I'll be a new man by the»time muddy roads
permit a spring campaign!" he laughed back. "I
told you all, at Crag-Nest, that I was as good as
two dead men. Zounds! I'll be better than two
old ones, thanks to devotion of my three sweet
nurses. Do you know, my cousins," — his face grew
graver and his eyes softened, — ''I have not laid
my head on that pillow one night since, without
grateful memory of Yal's wonderful constancy
and nerve; and of your brave, dashing ride, you
saucy little beauty. Ah! Cousiu Mrginia, God
never made grander women than those with whom
He blessed our state!"
''Nor grander men, my kinsman," the old lady
replied softly. ''Wythe, have you inquired for
&
^?"
Major Ravanel this mornin
"Yes; the matron tells me he is much the same,"
the girl answered gravely. "He sleeps more; but,
when he wakes, the fever rises and he talks con-
stantly. The lady in black never leaves him now,
day or night. I wonder who she is !"
"A relative, of course," Mrs. Courtenay replied
somewhat stiffly. "I can not tell why her face
seems familiar, for I am sure we never met, and
she treated me as a perfect stranger when she
came to the hospital."
"She's gentle and good to him as his own
^'V^-^
A RICHMOND "STARVATION'S" RESULTS. 185
mother could be," the girl answered. "What a
sad chance her illness is, to separate such a mother
and son!"
"He will come out all right," Colonel Calvert
said cheerily, "These wiry fellows, with calm
nerves and iron will, are hard to kill. Zounds!
cousin, you never would recognize Ravanel in the
reckless devil that charged down at Opequon, scat-
tering the Yankees right and left — literally hew-
ing out a path for me. Yet he was cool as in
your drawing room; recollecting every cow-path
through those woods. But for him, I had never
troubled you dear ladies all these months! But —
allons! This is 'piping time of peace,' thanks to
the mud. We will forget our stern alarums and
dreadful marches for merry meetings and delight-
ful measures."
Truly, as he said, another winter siesta had
come, enforced by winter rigor that made roads
everywhere impassable for artillerj^, wagon-trains
and aught else but raiding cavalry. So the hostile
lines — close enough to each other for pickets to
"chaff"; close enough for dwellers in the cities to
hear their desultory firing — were able to attempt
no formidable movement. Lee's sleepless vigi-
lance—well seconded by that of his generals —
foiled graver intent of the raiders at all points; and
Early — sore from his late defeat, yet ever watch-
ful and tenacious as a mastiff — was watching
186 CBAG-NEST.
Slieridan's repeated efforts at surprise, in surly
calm, from his winter quarters near Waynesboro.
Meanwhile, Richmond was strangely gay, after
its own peculiar fashion. Many officers crowded
the capital on duty, or leave; and the younger of
these— tired and worn from camp — were equally
famished for female society and for gaiety and
fun of every sort. And the Richmond girls — ever
ready to aid and comfort their soldier boys with
needle, bandage, lint and equally-prized words of
cheer — now seemed quite as ready to aid their
plans for mutual pleasure.
In common with their graver elders, these
young people realized that the strain was remitted
for the moment; possibly they recked that it
would renew to-morrow, for the final crush. Yet
they seemed content to enjoy the day with all the
recklessness of long restraint. Dances were of al-
most nightly occurrence; not those generously bril-
liant assemblies which had erst crowned Rich-
mond "queen of hospitality," but joyous gather-
ings of young people, who danced as though the
music of shells had never drowned that of the
chance negro fiddler — who laughed and flirted as
though there were no to-morrow, with its certain
skirmish and its possible blanket for winding-
sheet. Many a gallant youth had ridden direct
from dance to picket line; ere next noon, to jolt
into town on a country cart, stiff and stark — a bul-
A RICHMOND ''STARVATION'S" RESULTS. 187
let through his heart. For the soldier boys were
not only those on leave; the lines close to the city
holding many willing to do ten miles each way on
horseback, through snow and slush, for one waltz
with "somebody's darling."
These "starvations," as their name implied, en-
tailed no waste of supplies, vital alike to soldier
and civilian; for a law infrangible as the Me-
dan's limited all refreshments to ample supply of
"Jeems' River" water. Music was furnished some-
times by ancient negro minstrels, more often by
dainty fingers of some clieerj^ matron; always by
soft voice or merry laugh of "ladyes fayre," for
whom each knight was ready to do — or to die!
The more saturnine, and the more hopeless,
turned eyes ascant, and elevated horrified hands,
at these "starvations;" but, as Kob Maury had
written to his cousin: "As we fellows do the get-
ting killed, I don't see why the old goodies object
to our dancing in the intervals of the killing; and
I'm coming down to Coulter Brooke's german sure,
unless old Early sends for me for special consul-
tation."
But this winter's siesta was widely different
from that first one, when the mistress of Crag-Nest
had welcomed the — th Cavalry; its rest being fit-
ful — fevered with the hectic of long strain — star-
tled by spectres of foreboding that would not
down for the bidding. For war, if making all
188 CRAO-NEST.
philosophers, does not change all to Stoics; and
there were those who seemed to feel the full
weight of the situation; and to look beyond, with
no bright vistas intervening.
Val Courtenay was one of these. The girl had
grown strangely grave and sad; no flashes of her
saucy merriment now answering Wythe's sallies;
and when the latter had once exclaimed that she-
found a single gray strand in her cousin's black
hair, the latter had only smiled gravely and an-
swered :
''What matter, Wythe? The only wonder is
that more of us are not gray."
But her old-time sweetness and force of char-
acter had nowise changed; and Val went about
her daily duties — and she made them numerous
and all-engrossing — as tried member of that tire-
less band of veritable Sisters of Mercy, who
soothed the pillow of suffering and strengthened
the feet that trod the Valley of the Shadow of
Death.
While needful, she had watched ceaselessly by
the bedside of the soldier she had saved; and still
showed devotion to that task in his rapid recuper-
ation, while she broadened her work by visitations
to Chimborazo and other hospitals.
One crisp November noon, as the girl was leav-
ing the officers' hospital on one of her charitable
missions, an ambulance drove slowly up; and in
A RICHMOND ''STARVATION'S'' RESULTS. 189
the wrecked form of the sufferer from ghastly
camp-fever, she recognized Fraser Ravanel. Stub-
born in his ideas of duty — and seeming possessed
of morbid dread of being sent to Eichmond — the
young colonel had ignored the surgeon's orders;
had gone on duty with his wound still unhealed,
overexerting his failing strength in the weeks of
sleepless anxiety succeeding Cedar Creek. At
last, mind ceased longer to coerce matter; seeds
of fever sowed in the overworked system stretched
him on a bed of illness, that should have been
grave warning. But still Ravanel resisted; scoff-
ing at sick furlough and dragging himself back to
duty while yet unfit. Resulting relapse gravely
periled a life too valuable to lose; and his general
sent him to Richmond, while still in mid-delirium
of fever. So it was but the wreck of the man she
had said she loved three years before — whom, in
all that interval, she had struggled to convince
herself had ceased to be aught to her — that Val
saw lifted from the van.
Not one of the women w^ho waste usefulness in
hesitance, she made up her mind at once; and — her
face deadly pale, but quiet and resolved — she
sought the matron and told her an officer she knew
seemed desperately ill; that, if she could be of use,
she would assist in nursing him. From that time,
large portion of each day was spent beside the
fever patient's cot; and, ever striving with all her
190 CRAG-NEST.
soul and honor not to listen, could not prevent dis-
jointed expressions from the fevered brain reach-
ing her ears. Nor could all strength of will she
summoned keep the blood from surging to her
brain — or still the flutter of the heart she deemed
so fully schooled — when softer tones murmured of
other days, and spoke her own name through them
all. But one day, moving softly to her post — a
strange calm on her face, reflecting strange peace
in her heart — she stood transfixed; her feet rooted
to the floor and her heart stilled.
Kneeling by her patient's bed was the lissome
form of a woman, clad in black; her arms thrown
about the sufferer's neck, and her soft voice call-
ing his name in that one universal tone, lent by
love alone! For one brief second Val looked. The
next she turned gravely away, moving toward the
door, with head erect, but with that hope which,
unwarned, she had let grow full-statured in her
heart, lying prostrate there, corpse-like.
No word of this she breathed to aunt or cousin;
meeting their comments on the beautiful and de-
voted stranger with calm, if unmeaning, answers;
and she even went sometimes to Eavanel's bedside
— always in the strange woman's rare absences —
explaining quietly to the matron that demands of
her sick at Chimborazo kept her away. And, in
truth, she was now a tireless nurse; going early
and late, until the colonel warned and her aunt
A RICHMOND "STARVATION'S" RESULTS. 191
chided, lest she wear out her strength. But a
grave, sad smile was ever her answer to them and
to AVythe's loving petulance — that she "never did
see such a girl! We might as w^ell be strangers,
for all I see of you!"
But through that long week there ever rose in
Val Courtenay's mind one query; why her cousin
was so gently sympathetic, but so little grieved
or anxious, at Ravanel's condition. Spite of will,
she constantly asked herself if she could have
been mistaken; if Wythe had really cared nothing
for the handsome Carolinian, when she cast Hob
Maury off so strangely. But ever, after such quer-
ies, would follow fierce self-contempt, and angry
avowal that she was prying into what did not
concern, and had been studiously kept from,
her.
But one night, coming in later than usual, and
wearied, brain and body with her good work, she
found Wythe sitting before the fire, in night ap-
parel, embracing her knees and resting her fair
head upon them.
"Val Courtenay! You're just the greatest
goose of a girl I ever saw!" Miss Dandridge ex-
claimed, rising and extending first one little cro-
cheted slipper, and then the other, to the blaze —
"wearing yourself to skin and bone and getting
crow's feet and gray hairs — for 'duty!' I'm sure
you owe some duty to yourself, if not to those who
192 CRAG-NEST.
love you! But, you're the dearest old Val, just
the same!"
And suddenly — as in their old room at Crag-
Nest, after their first quarrel — the younger girl
threw her arms about her friend; and, as then, the
soft, fair hair was i)ressed against her bosom.
And, as then, again the look of love ineffable — but
with more of sadness and maternal tenderness in
it — as the tall head bent down once more and the
quivering lips pressed soft upon it.
"I tell you, Val," Wythe exclaimed a little later,
swinging the little slippers nervously as she sat on
the bedside, while her companion disrobed, "so
much has happened at the hospital to-day. Col-
onel BavanePs fever left him; and, Yal, he's just
as sane as you are! Doctor Carter let him see
Cousin Wirt a moment, and Cousin Virginia and I
wheeled him in. They would not let him talk; but
he's such a prig for courtesy, he would introduce
his sister — "
Val Tvheeled round upon the speaker, her
raised hands holding the masses of black hair that
shadowed a face ghastly pale, and the white lips
moved soundless as they formed the two words
in repetition.
"Yes, she'd been across the lines; business or
something. She's so like him; gentle and soft-
voiced and says 'ma^ just like him."
The other woman still stood staring, the motion-
A RICHMOyD "STAMVATION'ii" REtiULTS. 193
less hands not taken from her hair, but the color
coming slowly back to her cheek and lip, as she
forced herself to say:
'^Sister! Why, he told ns he was an only
child!"
''He never told mc so," Wythe answered saucily,
''lie never told me anything, except commonplace
and tactics. But he is a perfect gentleman, Val;
so quietly grateful for kindness, or courtesy. Why,
that night of their ball — he is a lovely dancer,
though! — he took the time any of our boys would
have used for flirtation, making me promise not
to let our household forget him! Now isn't he a
prig?"
The long, nervous hands supporting Val's hair
fell before her in soft clasp; the color deepening
on neck and bust and arms. For to her sight rose
the loved old hall at Crag-Nest, with its antlered
rack; a man and a woman contending for a sword
beneath it; and accusing conscience scoffed bit-
terly at her mis judgment, as the man's voice de-
clared that he had perfect faith that Wythe would
not forget her pledge.
"And Yal, dear, you must get home earlier for
to-morrow's 'starvation.' That's why I sent Cap-
tain Caskie Cullen off when he brought me from
the hospital; and Coulter was sound, as I ran in to
kiss her good-night! And Cousin Wirt had — "
The crocheted slippers swung nervously and, for
13
194 CRAG-NE8T.
some occult reason, the glowing cheek took on a
deeper glow, as she stopped abruptly.
"Well, dear, what did Cousin Wirt have, to
make an old girl like me go to the dance?"
Val Courtenay was herself once more, but her
voice was as soft as the flush on her cheek and the
light in her great, dark eyes.
"Oh! nothing he had — yes; he had a letter say-
ing your — that the general would arrive in the
morning, and that — I believe Captain Maury will
be with him!"
"I had a letter from him, too," Val answered
quietly. "Dear old Eob! How glad I shall be!
You know, Wythe, none of us have seen him since
that grand ride, that set the whole Valley shout-
ing his j)raises!"
"It Kaa a brave ride," the other answered
dreamily, staring at her slippers.
"But why should that take me to 'starvation,'
Wythe? Rob would rather dance with the
younger girls; you, for instance. He is my pet
cousin, but" — the rare old-time smile came to her
lips — "as I believe I told you once before, I'm old
enough to be his — -aunt!"
"And you told liim so — that night!" Wythe
had slipped from the bedside, standing before her
cousin, the blue eyes full on the black ones.
"What night, dear?" The black eyes widened
a little, in wonder at the tone.
A RICHMOND " STARVATION S" RESULTS. 195
"That night when he — when you — the night
that Major Ravanel and I — " Again Wythe
paused abruptly, but Avithout a blush.
"Became such good friends that you would
dance with scarcely anyone else?" the elder fin-
ished for her.
"He danced with you first!" Wythe retorted.
"Only one little turn, dear." YaFs face soft-
ened and the light in her eyes grew tender at mem-
ory of another night; a night under this very roof,
when she had heard his pledge to dance with no
woman more, until they met; when she had spoken
words her lips might unsay, but her heart — never!
"And then you went off with liini — with Cap-
tain Maury; and I heard — "
"Heard what, little sister?" The wonder in
Val's face conquered reminiscence, as she spoke.
"Of course, it was chance, Val! I know you'd
never think me mean enough to listen! I never
mentioned it before, because — oh! Yal, you liiow I
didn't!" And ]\[iss Dandridge, illogical as her sex
ever, burst into tears.
"You dear little mystery! Come to your ma!"
Yal laughed; but a burning flush dyed face and
bosom — tinting even the long, graceful arms that
clasped her cousin — as she heard her own voice
form that last word. But she finished bravely:
"Now tell your sister M^hat is the matter?"
"It was only chance!" Wythe sobbed. "We
196 CRAG-NE8T.
had no idea — Captain Ravanel and I — when we
went into the conservatory — that you and Rob^ —
that we'd over — hear you — you refuse him!"
A light broke over the broad brow, bowed
above the fair head — the rosy dawn of an idea.
Then that light broadened and rippled over the
flushed face; and Yal Courtenay — releasing the
soft, plump burthen from her arms — threw herself
upon the bed, buried her face in the pillow, and
shook with overmastering emotion.
Wythe stared a moment, her small grief stilled
in presence of a burst such as she had never seen
Yal yield to. Then the plump, white hand touched
the soft, heaving shoulder, and she cried plaint-
ively :
"Oh! Yal, don't! Please, />/msfi don't! I didn't
mean, dear — I couldn't help it; and I don't care
anything — much, for him — now!''
Moments passed before the sloping shoulders
stilled and the clinched hands released that pil-
low. Then Yal, after what seemed a great strug-
gle, controlled herself sufliciently to rise. Even
then, as she turned her hot face upon her compan-
ion's wondering one, a strange spasm crossed it
and Yal's hands pressed hard, commandful on her
heaving bosom. But, calming herself, she said with
a solemnity that to Wythe seemed truly awful:
"So i/ON heard me reject — Rob Maury! Wythe,
such confidence must be — " she paused; the
A nrCHMOND ''STARVATION'S''' RESULTS. 197
strange spasm again distorting her face — "sacred!
God bless you, dear — dearest little girl! Never
recur to this — until I give you permission. Good-
night, you sweet little goo — !"
She broke off, clasped the bewildered Miss Dan-
dridge in tighter hug, and sprung into bed. And
Wythe, lying wakeful in the darkness, was sure
she felt the soft form by her once more shaking
with emotion.
The next was a busy day, indeed, for all the
Brooke household. The general arrived for early
breakfast; rotund, jovial and ruddy bearded as of
yore, but none the worse for a recent serious
wound. With him came Rob Maury — the house-
hold hero now, but refusing to be lionized, even
when the general told the table that he had ap-
plied for Major Maury as member of his staff.
But Val managed to slip away alone by noon;
and when the whole party called on Colonel Cal-
vert and Ravanel, she had just left the hospital.
Dinner was over and house-clearing for "star-
vation" done when the girl returned; quiet and
with the seal of some great joy upon her face.
Wythe sat alone on the wide old settee in the hall-
way, pretending to read; and laughter floated
from the open door of the pantry near, where Coul-
ter Brooke and Rob Maury waged battle royal
over a captured pie.
"I'm so glad you've come, Yal!" Wythe cried,
198 CRAG -NEST.
with a petulant toss of the book. "It's awfully
lonely— since the general rode away!"
The other girl sat down, taking the restless lit-
tle hand in hers; but the knowing smile that just
moved her lips left them, as she said gravely:
"I've plenty to tell, dear. To begin, I have
seen his — Colonel liavanel's sister. We met in
the matron's room, and she stopped to thank us
all for the little we had done for him. Somehow
we became sympathetic; and I know her story.
Oh! Wythe, she is a brave, true woman, worthy
of her race; but she has suffered as few have, for a
hasty marriage, against all opposition. Her
mother was relentless, disowned her utterly; for-
bade all mention of her name — -even erasing it
from the Bible. The husband was worse than any
feared; drunken, dishonest, cruel! Finally, he
deserted her in Washington and joined the Yan-
kees — three years ago; while I was in this house;
and then Colonel Eavanel sent for, and cared ten-
derly for her since. After Cedar Creek, she heard
of the traitor's death; and she rejoices that her
brother — whose high pride of name she knows —
never met him after his flight!"
"How dreadful!" Wythe exclaimed. "Val, do
you know I think it terribly dangerous for any
girl to marry!"
"I am afraid it is, some — " the other began;
but the battle of the pie surged out of the pantry.
A RICHMOND "STARVATION'S" RESULTS. 199
veering toward them ; and then Coulter Brooke fled
up the stairs, leaving the new major master of the
sticky spoils.
"Hello! Cousin Val! I captured the commis-
sary stores! Have a bite?"
He advanced flushed and breathless; but Wythe
rose stiflly and stepped into the wide-swung door
of the pantry.
"Sit here, you great boy!" Val answered. "I
want to borrow your memory a moment."
"All right; but I won't lend you my pie!" he
answered, describing a great arc in it with strong
teeth. "Now, commence firing!"
"Rob, you remember the ball we gave to the
regiment? Well, when you and I went into the
conservatory, and you were raging about Captain
Ravanel's devotion to — " His mouth was too full
for speech; but the youth's eyes rolled in piteous
entreaty toward the pantry door. Still Val went
on, even raising her voice — "to our pretty little
cousin, I told you love was a delusion; that I knew,
for I was old enough to be your — aunt!"
"Val! for heaven's sake — " With a huge ef-
fort and a huger swallow, Rob got out the hoarse
whisper, his juice*stained hand pointing to the
pantry door, as he rose to his feet. But Val —
blind as deaf to all entreaty — went on, loud and
relentless:
"But, Rob, none of us know anything about
200 CRAG-NEST.
it. You were wiser tlien — and ever since — in tell-
ing me how well you loved — dear little Wythe!"
She, too, rose to her feet; premonitory rustle of
impending flight coming through the door, as she
placed both firm hands upon the boy's shoulders,
and added rapidly:
"Later, in my folly, I said: 'Better one fool
than two!' Rob, / was the fool, then!"
With sudden movement, she pushed the sur-
prised warrior back into the [>antry; and, before
she could reach the stair's head, the wild wail
floated up to her:
"Oh, Rob! Of course I do. Don't! You've
stained my — 'starvation' dress!"
But the bright smile it brought to her lips
faded from her face before the tender glow of light
from within, as Val Courtenay pressed her fore-
head against the cool pane, and gazed through the
fast-coming dusk at the distant hospital.
Then she seated herself at the escritoire, writ-
ing rapidly and with firm hand:
"Full confession of fault humiliates only false
pride. To iliai, penance; to true regret, it is best
solace. In your fever, frequent words made me
pity you much — myself far more. Since I met
your sister, my sin against you — equally against
myself— stands bare before me. If you can for-
give it, God will be merciful! And He knows how
truly I would expiate it, by lifetime duty to that
A RICHMOJSD '' STARVATION'S'' RESULTS. 201
truth I misjudged so blindly. Contrite for the
past — with no false pride for the present — I write
what I once bade you call me,
"Always yours,
"Valerie."
Never reading the words, she slipped them in
an envelope, sealed and addressed it: "Colonel
Fraser Ravanel, Officers' Hospital."
Then she bent her face long upon the white
hands, lifting her soul in meekness toward the
Throne's foot. And, when she raised it, the last
ray of the winter sunset struggled through the
shadows and touched her forehead!
202 CRAG-NSST.
CHAPTER XVI.
THE TORCH AT CRAG-NES'.
The soft, warm afterglow of September dusk
fell upon the broad piazza, wrapping in its rosy
gray the occupants of two ample straw rocking-
chairs; but the last, lingering kiss of the day god
still flushed the far crest of old Massanutten, as
waiting the stealthy creep of Diana to steal it
from that hoary, three-headed custodian.
"That new coat of paint warms up, even in this
light. Cousin Wirt. Indeed, the home looks al-
most like the old days once more."
The speaker sighed softly, as the long, white
hands fell gently to rest in her moire antique lap ;
though the sound was not of sorrow, but of full
contentment, and her slim slippers crossed in
stately comfort, as she added:
"But you are always so thoughtful and so —
generous. Pardon me, kinsman, but I fear none
of us can well afford luxuries in these days."
"Luxuries! Cousin Virginia, Mon cllcu! fresh
paint is a necessity. And besides, this is not my
doing, but Ezekiel's. I only furnished the paint;
he gave the talent. You remember the day we last
rode away from the dear old place, I told Ziek
THE TORCH AT CRAG-NEST. 20;J
that be was a i^erfect gentleman, for all his black
skin? Now he looms up as an eminent artist.
Zounds! I have seen great paintings in the Paris
galleries that gave me less satisfaction as works
of art. 1 was saying so to the general this after-
noon!"
A little pause, punctuated by a half sigh. Then
the lady said:
"He told me so. He, too, is ever thoughtful.
Cousin, in all my years I have never met such a
young man!"
"You are right, as ever. Cousin Virginia," came
the hearty response. ''But for him, you dear
women would now be plaiting wreaths for my mod-
est mound, somewhere yonder. Zounds! I remem-
ber, as though but yesterday, the ping of that Win-
chester that tumbled me out of saddle. Your gen-
tle tending — and the girls'— brought me back to
life, kinswoman; but he brought me to you!"
"But for him, none of us might be here now,"
Mrs. Courtenay answered, somewhat dreamily, as
the calm eyes peered rather into reminiscence than
the dusk beyond. "Ah! kinsman, those were try-
ing days; but with you and the dear children under
the roof again, I can forget them — almost."
"Entirely, if you can," he broke in. "When
Mars' Robert gave his sword to Grant, six months
ago, the v/ar ended for me. 1 am still a trifle un-
reconstructed, perhaps, but I strive to look ahead
204 CRAG-NEST.
and not behind me. There is other work in life
than fighting; and, zounds! the men of Virginia
have plenty of it to do — and her noble women, too!
Void! Crag-Nest looks like a bride herself; and to-
morrow — "
"Yes; God be thanked for to-morrow!" the
lady broke in — ''and for the peace that makes it
possible. Ah! Cousin Wirt, I grow young again in
their happiness. Hear that! — "
A ringing peal of girlish laughter broke
through the darkening dusk. A moment later
feet crunched the fresh-raked gravel of the walk,
and a tall, stalwart form strode into view, with a
more shadowy one clinging to his arm. The
laughter ceased; the tall head seemed to bend
down an instant. Then silence fell as the pair
rapidly approached and mounted the familiar,
broad steps — creaking now no longer beneath the
firm tread.
"And nothing on your head, my child," Mrs.
Courtenay said mildly. "Ah! Master Rob, you
will have to learn to take better care of our baby
than this."
"Really, Cousin Virginia, I don't think — " the
youth began.
"Major ]Maury is excusable, kinswoman," Gen-
eral Calvert finished for him. "You are too cxige-
ante. How can a young gentleman think of any-
body's head, under circumstances which warrant
THE TORCH AT CRAG-NEST. 206
losing his own? Zounds! my little cousin, in his
boots, I believe I should walk upon my head."
'^I'll run in and make Esther light up," Miss
Dandridge replied, somewhat incousequently. "It
is supper time, and we were just saying we were
both awfully hungry."
"I thought so," the veteran answered quietly;
and as the fair girl tripped into the dim hall, her
cavalier seated himself upon the step, struck a
modern match and applied it to the bowl of a fra-
grant briar-root pipe.
There was a quiet ijause, while the attention
of the trio might have been concentered on the
red-glowing pipe.
The sky behind the mountains whitened sud-
denly, the cloud edges catching the gleam of mol-
ten silver. Then the full disc of the moon popped
suddenly up over old Three-Top, sending her slant
shafts of light full upon the group, and dropping
their reflections broad and clear upon all inter-
vening space.
"I am an awkward cub of a fellow. Cousin Vir-
ginia," the young soldier blurted out abruptly. "I
have never once told 3'ou how grateful I am. But
God knows I appreciate the blessing He gives me;
and I'll try to prove to you that I deserve it!" He
puffed thoughtfully a moment, sending fragrant,
blue wreaths against the white moonlight.
"I believe you do deserve her, Rob." There was
206 CRAGNEST.
gentle gravity, but loyal assurance, too, in the
matron's tone. "And you will prove it, my boy,
for the blood of the Cabbells is in your veins."
"And my duty to you is done, sir," the older
soldier added. "My promise to your father is ful-
filled. Mon dicu! Nothing can make a man of
you like possession of such a woman!"
For a moment Rob Maury was silent, smoking
with short, nervous puffs. Then he cried bluntly:
"Wasn't I a donkey, though! To think Wythe
was flirting with liavanel, and make myself miser-
able — worse than that! to make her so — two whole
years. General, 1 ought to be reduced to the
ranks!"
"Sentence approved and referred to your new
commanding officer," General Calvert answered
laughingly. But there was a strange softness in
his tone; and he reached out a firm hand, resting
it on the boy's shoulder, as he added:
"You have done credit to your race, sir; for four
long years. A brave gentleman can not be a don-
key long, liob, and you would never have mistaken
had you loved less loyally."
"He never makes mistakes!" Master Rob mut-
tered — more to himself than in reply. He jerked
his head toward two others, coming rapidly from
the gate; then hid himself in silence and a dense
cloud of smoke.
"Oh! Aunt Virginia, she will be here at day-
THE TORCH AT CRAG- NEST. 207
light! Wg walked over to the station and found
a telegram, telling us the train broke down at
Weldon!"
Valerie Courtenay's voice had the same clear,
rich ring as of yore; but the tears had all dried out
of it now, replaced by the thrill of full contentment;
and the tone was the saucy, girlish one that had
charged Rob INlaury with desertion on that same
spot four years before,
"There was a dispatch for you, too. General
Calvert," her companion said, mounting the steps
and handing the dingy envelope.
"Thank you. General Eavanel. ^Yith your
permission, ladies," the veteran said; and rising,
as the hall lamp gleamed out bright and clear, he
moved toward the door and broke the seal.
"I am more rejoiced than I can tell you. Gen-
eral Ravanel," Mrs. Courtenay said earnestly.
"To have my old schoolmate under my roof — after
all these years, quite fills the measure of my joy
for to-morrow — and your sister, too, general," she
added suavely. "As your mother's daughter, she
would be welcome, even had Richmond not taught
us all to love and know her high womanhood."
"Yes, it would not have been complete with-
out — sister." Valerie hesitated only a second, be-
fore the word; but the dark eyes she raised to her
lover had in them a depth of love born of grateful
memory.
208 CJiAG-NEST.
"You both know how I delight to hear you
speak so," Kavanel answered in his quiet way —
"and to feel that it is deserved. There are no
women to me, in all the world, like ma and sister!"
"Say! Cousin Val!" Major Maury whispered,
out of his cloud, to the girl — "that's treason. But
you'll teach him to talk differently after a while."
"Never doubt it, Rob!" she whispered back,
in her old saucy way. "Suppose we begin now.
Just offer me your arm for a stroll in the conserv-
atory, and repeat that declaration you made me
at the ball and — "
"Hush! Here conies AVythe," he interrupted
uneasily. "Don't remind her of what a donkey
I made myself; for, in her goodness, she pretends
to forget it!"
"Of course she does," INIiss Courtenay retorted,
in the same low tone — "since you shared with her
what was dearer than life; what you refused me!"
He only stared, taking the pipe from his lips;
but she went on:
"Didn't I peep over the banisters, that evening
of the 'starvation,' and see you divide that pre-
cious pie — "
"Bother the pie! Please hush!" And the ex-
major, C. S. A., jammed his broad shoulders
against the pillar and puffed denser clouds than
before.
"More good news, kinswoman!" General Cal-
THE TORCH AT CRAG-NEST. 209
vert cried, coming from tlie hall with one hand
captured by AVjthe's plump little one, and the
other extending the brown dispatch. "General
Buford telegraphs that my letter followed him to
Washington, and he will be down just in time for
the — event."
"He will be welcome, Cousin Wirt," the matron
answered frankly, but gravely. "I had never ex-
pected to ask a Union officer to cross the thres-
hold of Crag-Nest, socially; but respect for the man
— no less than gratitude — makes Mister Buford
welcome, in spite of his uniform."
"Zounds! madam; you don't expect him to wear
it? I tell you that old Frenchman was right: We
know a man when we have fought with him!" the
old soldier cried warmly. "Buford is a true gen-
tleman, as well as a true soldier. I'll risk my
parole, kinswoman, that he comes in mufti T
The lady's face was still grave; but she made
no reply, before Ezekiel appeared in the doorway.
Resplendent in immaculate expanse of collar and
front, that shamed even his halcyon days of the
war, the old black wore a dress coat of startling
length of skirt, and trowsers of amplest width;
both fresh and shining from the tailor's hands.
Under his arm he bore a massive silver waiter; and
there was rejuvenescence in the voice — punctuated
by a stately bow — that announced:
"Da missus' tea am served!"
14
210 CRAG -NEST.
Still silent, Mrs. Courtenay rose, passed her
arm into her kinsman's and moved stately to the
old dining-room, the younger pairs following with
less state,
"Oh! Fraser, how could you?" Valerie whis-
pered, her glance flashing to Ezekiel's new suit.
"He won his spurs, as my aid that day," he
answered softly; one of his rare smiles lifting his
mustache — "and Sheridan dismounted him, with
the rest of us. He will lose enough, in losing his
'young missus' to-morrow, not to have at least the
solace of a new uniform."
Very different were the feelings of those seated
around that hospitable board now — almost as dif-
ferent was the feast spread upon it — from those
days of war. Plenty had not yet spread her fos-
tering wings above the Valley; but, even in those
early days the pressure of dire want had ceased to
bear so heavily upon its dwellers. And, to those at
Crag-Nest, comfort had returned exceptionally
soon; and its fruits were never so sweet, as when
the mistress of the manor shared them with those
about her.
And this was the last family supper, before the
tangled threads of Fate would form, for four of
them, into that gentle but binding knot, which only
the hand of Him who blesses it may loosen for-
ever. But the love that makes the dinner of herbs
more savory than the stalled ox was present there;
THE TORCH AT CRAG-NEST. 211
and the thought of partings, on the morrow — if
they came at the moment — only mellowed the joy
of present reunion and future hopes.
But at last Mrs. Courtenay said gently:
"To-morrow will be the day of your lives, my
children. We must be astir early, to welcome dis-
tant friends; and you should have your full 'beauty
sleep.' Young gentlemen" — she rose as she spoke
— "I hold it as true Virginian hospitality, as it
was Grecian, to 'Welcome the coming, speed the
parting guest.' "
A few minutes later Ezekiel held the bits of
two horses, champing at the door. Two couples,
a little apart on the broad piazza, spoke low fare-
wells; and then sounded the clatter of hoofs, as the
young soldiers galloped away through the moon-
light to the neighboring farmhouse that furnished
their temporary lodgment.
The delicate intuition of the older pair held
them in perfunctory discussion of some trifle of to-
morrow's decoration; but, when the girls demurely
came for their good-night kiss, the fervent lips of
the old lady — the grim mustache of the veteran —
alike pressed it upon each fair brow with the pure
tenderness of a sacrament.
Nowhere are the days of early autumn brighter
or more crisp than in the Valley country of Vir-
ginia; and this one was ideal in its temperature.
212 CRAG-NEST.
Onlj' fleeciest clouds, here and there, flecked the
broad, blue dome, toward which higher peaks
seemed to stretch upward longingly through the
transparent atmosphere. On the levels, lazy cat-
tle lay ruminant, while from the coverts came the
distance-softened whirr of wings, or soft sound of
insects.
"And Nature's voices all accord,
In song of brook, or pipe of bird.
To sing, or wliisper, one sweet word
And that is — Peace! "
Noon was well past, and already the sun — rap-
idly" dropping westward from his zenith — began
to lengthen the mountain shadows, as memories of
the past stretch out to days of life's decline.
The double wedding was over. In the delapi-
dated, rustic church near by, a white-haired bishop,
in whose veins also mingled the blood of the Cal-
verts and the Cabbells, had spoken the solemn
words that linked four souls "until death do us
part." And now his grace sat at the right hand
of his hostess, as the family party finished the
wedding dinner, in the memory-peopled dining-
room. At opposite end of the board. General Cal-
vert presided with a grand dignity, that struggled
for supremacy with a joyous honhommk which no
feast of all his Parisian experiences had called
forth; his especial attentions showered upon the
THE TORCH AT CRAG-NEST. 213
stately, high-bred Carolina dame at his right. Her
clear-cut features and still elastic grace of figure
might have denied maternity of the younger gen-
eral, next to her, had not the recent war been
fecund of promotions singularly rapid. Opposite
sat the pale, delicate and reserved "portrait in
little" of her mother, Kuth Ravanel; but the gray
strands gleaming through the glossy black of her
hair — and the severe simplicity of her black silk
gown — hinted at less kindly pressure upon her of
Time's omnipresent hand.
But never, of old, had "ladye fayre" craved
more courtly cavalier than he who sat beside her;
tall, soldierly and bland, in faultless morning-suit,
innocent of hint that Pattison Buford had ridden
down that Valley by the light of flaming roofs —
that the voice, now tuned to society's pitch, had
ever thundered ''Charge!" upon the very men who
tendered now fraternal welcome, with something
beyond
" The stern joy that warriors feel
In foemen worthy of their steel! "
"That is the worst feature of a country so large
as ours," General Buford was saying. "The very
magnificence of distances prevents our knowing
how charming society may be just beyond us. In
my own case now, only the accidental call" — he
paused imperceptibly, delicately avoiding even al-
214 CJiAG-N£ST.
lusion to duty — "business at Washington, made
it possible for me to reach here and assist at one
of the most grateful occasions of my life."
"I am not sure," Mrs. Courtenay answered
suavely, "that there are not compensations in dis-
tance — at times in our lives. But, in your case,
sir, we are deeply debtors to business for its acci-
dent; and I sincerely hope" — she gravely raised
her glass with firm hand, as her eye met his with
the pretty pride of hospitality — "that you may
never again be so near Crag-Nest, without honor-
ing its threshold by crossing it."
"Permit me, General Buford, to join in my kins-
woman's wish," the veteran cried, beaming as he
raised his glass, "to our guest and — brother sol-
dier!"
Ravanel and Maury raised their glasses — the
former's as yet untouched; and that uncompromis-
ing daughter of the commonwealth that gave the
Union her "First Rebel" — the mistress of Crag-
Nest — bent her grand head in courteous sanction
of the pledge of peace to "the enemy."
Then Ezekiel moved gravely round the board,
placing fresh glasses, of thinnest make, at every
place; pausing by his mistress, waiting her com-
mand. As he did so, the moving of wheels grated
on the gravel without.
"Dearest and best pledge of all must be our
last," she said in softened tones. "And time warns
THE TORCH AT CRAG-NEST. 215
that it must be given now. Cousin Wirt, the
health of the brides!"
Ezel?;iel had vanished at a sign from her. Now
he reappeared, bearing upon his salver a dim and
dusty bottle; its neck resting stiffly uj)on a folded
napkin.
''This Madeira, sent from our kinsman in En-
gland," the matron went on, foroing down a tremor
in her voice, "was set aside from my wedding day,
to be drunk at the first marriage of the next gen-
eration. Providence ordained that it should be
reserved for these dear children; and I have to
thank this faithful servant that it escaped the rav-
ages of the — destroyer of most things, a half-cen-
tury of time," she finished, with one quick glance
at the Federal soldier. "Ezekiel, be very care-
ful."
''No! Permit me, cousin!" General Calvert
cried, rising with the elastic bound of a youth, but
a courtly bow to Mrs. Pavanel. "On an occasion
like this, the Calvert wine should be served by a
Calvert!"
With the pride of a connoisseur, but the tender-
ness of a father handling his first-born, the veteran
took the cobwebbed bottle in his sinewy hand.
Deftly he inserted the massive corkscrew — never
changing the angle of the neck, but bringing out
the cork without sound or tremor. Then he
passed about the board with stately grace, filling
216 CRAG-NE8T.
each glass, and standing at his own place with an-
other profound bow to his lady, as he said:
"Cousin Virginia, our glasses are filled!"
Mrs. Courtenay rose gravely, and with her rose
each guest. A soft glow was on her cheeks; and
her eyes, for once, were downcast and moist. Her
lips trembled slightly, but the white, blue-veined
hand steadily lifted the brimming glass, as she
said:
"My children and friends, our overfull hearts
would mock the effort of our lips to speak their
feelings. To the brides and groom^s! May Our
Father keep them to-day and forever!"
In eloquent silence each glass was sipped; two
of the toasted bravely radiant with joy — two of
them tremulous, with eyes downcast and tear-
suffused. But Buford — charmed with the won-
derful bouquet of the rare old wine, and sipping it
slowly — suddenly noted the pallor of the woman
at his side, her face death-like, above the severe
black dress. Over the white cheeks rolled two
great tears, the long lashes could not restrain;
and the bosom beneath its silken restraint seemed
rent by a will-repressed sob. Tactful as brave, the
Philadelphian glanced across the board, but not
before Valerie had slipped her hand into the
other's and his quick ear had caught the almost
soundless whisper:
"Ruth! Sister!"
THE TORCH AT CRAG-NEST. 217
The carriage was at the door; the ample, old-
time family coach, with age-dimmed cushions,
worn paint and massive silver plates, all refreshed
so far as EzekiePs loving veneration and stiffened
muscles could compass that feat. Not the sleek
and prancing steeds of former times drew it; but
two veterans of the war, now translated from
squadron or battery, to better bed and rack, wore
rather loosely the massive harness of "better
days."
But neither vehicle nor team occupied the
thoughts of those now grouped upon the broad
steps, engrossed in leave-taking; the bridal couples
read}^ for departure for the near station.
The reddening of coming sunset, already in the
sky behind the Massanutten peaks, reflected on
faces grave and pale — spite of brave efforts of the
hearts behind them. The two young girls were
close held in the venerable arms of her who had
been friend, almoner — mother to them, all those
long and trying years. The dark lashes and the
blonde alike glistened with tears, that would
come; only the eyes of the old lady dry, if filled
with yearning tenderness.
"It is hard to send you away, my children, even
to your own happiness," Mrs. Courtenay said very
gently, as her arms released the twain. "Yet it
is but for 'a little while; and it is not parting, for
you will always be present in these rooms. So,
218 CMAO-NEST.
take the old woman's blessing, and go now with
those who have the better claim."
The tender but nndimmed eyes turned yearn-
ingly toward the hallway — with something in
them like that last look, when they rode aAvay,
after Opequon. But the brave lady forced her
lips to smile, as she added :
"You can not be truants long, you know; for
remember, all your silver saved by Ezekiel, I still
hold here."
"We will be back so soon. Aunt Virginia,"
Valerie said softly — "and we will write m
often!"
"And you must not feel lonely, auntie!" Wythe
cried, an April smile shining through the mist
in her eje^.
"I will not be lonely," jMrs. Courtenay answered
with quiet voice, but lips that trembled slightly.
"I am wholly happy, my dears, because my chil-
dren are so. And Sarah lioutlege will remain
with her old schoolmate, since my child has robbed
her of hers. And this dear girl, too."
Her arm passed gentl^^ about the waist of the
other stately woman, as it had done in those long-
gone days of school-girl love, in the North; and
the other slim hand firmly clasped that of the pale
young widow, whose only answer was a peaceful
smile.
Hearty hand clasps exchanged by the men, and
THE TORCH AT CRAd-NEST. 219
last adieiix spoken, Mrs. Coiirtenay's arms were
about liOb Maur^^'s neck, as she cried:
"My brave boy! I can well trust my baby with
you! — and, Fraser, I need not say, what you
know!" The stately head bent toward him and
her lips pressed the broad forehead of the Carolin-
ian — ''God keep you all, my children!"
She turned abruptly, pacing slowly toward the
conservatory — ahme !
The carriage rolled away, crunching the gravel
merrily. After it dashed Ezekiel, with new-found
youth and a recklessness scarce consonant with
his grand garb, nigli above his head he waved a
venerable shoe, hurling it after the carriage, as he
cried :
"Sen' dem luck, Esther!"
And his helpmeet of years — her black cheeks
shiny with tears, but her still white teeth glisten-
ing with a broad grin — forgot her gorgeous ban-
dana turban and the splendor of flowered Dolly
A^arden cretonne, as she skurried after him, sail-
ing tiny but worn slii^pers through the air in heart-
felt "6o/« royafjcP''
All on the steps stood silent, watching the car-
riage beyond the turn, as the negroes trotted back
from the gate, hand-in-hand. No word was spoken
until Mrs. Courtenay slowly turned and, with
quiet step, rejoined them. There w^as suspicious
moisture in her eyes now; but her voice was as
220 CRAG-NEST.
calm as gentle, when, again passing her arm about
her old schoolmate, she said:
''Sarah Routlege, we live our youth over again
in our children's happiness!"
"You shame the bravery of us old soldiers,
kinswoman!" General Calvert cried bluntly; but
tugging at his grim mustache nervously. "You
have always been a true Virginian; but now,
zounds! you are a Roman!"
"Rut happil}^ not assisting at a sacrifice," Gen-
eral Buford added graciously. "Mrs. Courtenay,
I can not find words to thank you for permitting
me to share the joy of valued— friends!"
"The right word, Buford !" the Southern soldier
cried, radiant again as he grasped the other's hand.
"You and I have seen the torch glow in the Valley.
Thank God! We are spared to see the kindling of
the torch of Peace — ^the torch of Hymen!"
THE END.
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philosophy of life than the one it travesties.
Louisville Times: Mr. DeLeon is never more at home than
when turning the laugh on some serious work. In this case he
has succeeded to a marvel. It brims over with fun.
Chicago Herald: The skit is humorous, though a trifle bitter.
The dialogues are funny, as are the reflections.
St. Paul Dispatch: Unlike the " Rock or the Rye," this treats
not of one subject, but of many. It is a complete and funny
story, and a triple burlesque.
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