******* 
 ****** 
 
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 SAGE
 
 LIBRARY 
 
 UNIVERSITY OP 
 CALIFORNIA 
 SAN DIEGO
 
 822 01277 7595 
 
 fHE UNIVERSE LIBRARY 
 UNIVERSITY -OF CALIFORNIA, SAN DIEGO 
 MIA, CALIFORNIA' 

 
 H>ajje 
 
 ROBERT TOURNAY. A Romance of the French Rev 
 olution. Illustrated. Crown 8vo, $1.50. 
 
 THE CLAYBORNES. A Story of the Civil War. With 
 a Frontispiece. Crown 8vo, $1.50. 
 
 HOUGHTON, MIFFLIN & CO. 
 BOSTON AND NEW YORK.
 
 DO YOU PROMISE SOLEMNLY?" SHE INQUIRED (Page 9')
 
 THE CLAYBORNES 
 
 0. Romance of ttyt Cttoil 
 
 BY 
 
 WILLIAM SAGE 
 
 WITH ILLUSTRATIONS 
 
 BOSTON AND NEW YORK 
 
 HOUGHTON, MIFFLIN AND COMPANY 
 
 C!>r SRtberStte ^9re^, Cambrtirge 
 
 1902
 
 COPYRIGHT, 1902, BY WILLIAM SAGE 
 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED 
 
 Published April, 7902
 
 TO MY FRIEND 
 
 HERBERT SANFORD CARPENTER 
 I DEDICATE THIS BOOK
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 CHAPTBB PAOB 
 
 I. THE CLAYBORNE BLOOD 1 
 
 II. REGINA BOWIE 20 
 
 III. THE CLAYBOKNE HORSE 31 
 
 IV. REGINA'S TOAST 51 
 
 V. A HOT RIDE AFTER GRANT .... 77 
 
 VI. MARJORIE WARE 84 
 
 VII. IN THE CHINA-CLOSET 93 
 
 VIII. A SUDDEN PARTING 107 
 
 IX. A FEW OLD LETTERS 114 
 
 X. BENJAMIN CHESTERFIELD, NON-COMBATANT 127 
 
 XI. CHESTERFIELD'S CAPTIVE 148 
 
 XII. A LETTER FROM THE FRONT . . . 166 
 
 XIII. THE PRISONER ON THE RIVER QUEEN . . 168 
 
 XIV. A WOMAN is AN AWKWARD PRISONER . 181 
 XV. THE RIVER QUEEN'S BOILER . . . . 200 
 
 XVI. IN VlCKSBURG AND OUT . . . . 218 
 
 XVII. ULYSSES TAKES HIS TROY .... 238 
 
 XVIII. BEFORE THE COURT ..... 249 
 
 XIX. LOVE AND DOUBT . . ... . . 264 
 
 XX. A VOLUME OF EMERSON .... 282 
 
 XXI. THE HOUSE AT THE CROSS-ROADS . . . 289 
 
 XXII. MARJORIE WARE AND REGINA BOWIE . 306 
 
 XXIII. RICHMOND . . . , . . . .322 
 
 XXIV. AT THE STONE BRIDGE . ... 335 
 XXV. THE TENANTS OF THE CROSS-ROADS . . 345 
 
 XXVI. FOUR STURDY KNAVES ..... 359 
 
 XXVII. THE LAST OF THE CLAYBORNE HORSE . . 374 
 
 XXVIII. THE CLAYBORNE BROTHERS .... 388 
 
 XXIX. A THIRD OF A CENTURY LATER . 400
 
 THE CLAYBORNES 
 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 THE CLAYBOKNE BLOOD 
 
 A YOUNG woman sat at the piano playing a 
 martial air. Under the touch of her white hand 
 the instrument spoke. It told of the glory of war, 
 the grandeur and crash of the battle, of the in 
 trepid charge and the valiant defense ; it told of 
 conquest and honor, of the laurel wreath; the 
 triumph of victory. The color rose high to the 
 woman's cheek and her eyes flashed with the fire 
 and enthusiasm of youth. She put her spirit into 
 the music and it stirred the blood and thrilled the 
 pulse of the man who stood near her. The music 
 had no note of discord or death, of disease or 
 famine ; of homes made desolate and hearts wrung 
 with anguish and misery ; for the player was 
 young and full of life and beauty. The man who 
 listened did not hear the moan of the wounded, 
 the cry of the destitute, for he was rich in the 
 strength and courage and hope of youth. 
 
 "What do you think of that, Clifford Clay-
 
 2 THE CLAYBORNES 
 
 borne?" exclaimed the girl, turning upon her 
 chair. " Could you march to that music ? " 
 
 "I could follow that music to the end of the 
 world, Regina," was the quick rejoinder. 
 
 In playful challenge the girl's finger ran again 
 over the keys, sending forth an inspiring march ; 
 while she looked over her shoulder at Clifford, 
 dashing Clifford Clayborne, who always had a 
 soft word for a woman and an open hand for a 
 friend. 
 
 It was in Richmond in the spring of '61. The 
 news of the fall of Sumter was ringing through 
 the land. The South, with all its ardor and fiery 
 zeal, was arming itself for the coming fray. The 
 North, set on fire by the guns from South Caro 
 lina, was rallying to defend the national flag. The 
 Rebellion had begun. 
 
 It raged fiercely in the bosom of Regina Bowie ; 
 it shone in her eyes, it tingled to the very tips of 
 her fingers as they struck out notes of defiance to 
 the North. Had she been her father's son, Colo 
 nel Bowie would have had a son outrivaling him 
 in hot impetuous zeal for the cause. 
 
 Colonel John Bowie, a native of South Caro 
 lina, had come to Virginia three years before the 
 outbreak of the war. He had taken up his resi 
 dence as the neighbor of his friend, Judge Clay- 
 borne, whom he had known in boyhood. Bowie, 
 one of the hottest-headed fire-eating men in all the 
 South, had been persistent in his cry for " slavery 
 and no compromise," " secession and fight."
 
 THE CLAYBORNE BLOOD 3 
 
 Judge Clayborne, however, had been one of the 
 cooler heads, who, on the floor of the Virginia 
 Legislature, held the State for the Union until the 
 final die was thrown. But when Virginia cast in 
 her lot with the seceding States, Bowie held out 
 his hand to his lifelong comrade. " Now, Clay- 
 borne, where do you stand ? " 
 
 " With you to the death, John Bowie," cried 
 Clayborne, and he meant it too, as his fingers 
 closed over the colonel's hand. 
 
 " I knew we could count on you when the time 
 came, Joe. We 've had many a hot argument, 
 and you 've often made me mad. But I knew 
 you were true as steel, or, damn me, I 'd have dis 
 owned you." 
 
 " John, old fellow, the time for argument is 
 past. I've done my best to have the South do 
 what was wisest. The majority have overruled 
 me ; but the Claybornes from father to son, from 
 the earliest times, have lived in Virginia ; they 
 are part of its soil, and, sir, the Claybornes will 
 fight for Virginia. I 've got two boys, Colonel, 
 and by gad, sir, you '11 see us three together in 
 defense of the sacred soil of our State. Shoulder 
 to shoulder the Claybornes fight, shoulder to shoul 
 der the Claybornes stand or fall ! " 
 
 " Give me your hand once more, Joe Clayborne. 
 You make my heart warm towards you more than 
 it has for years. Let us take a drink to the suc 
 cess of the Southern Confederacy and then we '11 
 go and talk over the matter of recruiting, for you 
 must have a regiment."
 
 4 THE CLAYBORNES 
 
 " And my son Gordon," exclaimed Judge Clay- 
 borne, as the two friends set down their glasses on 
 the bar ; " I want him to have a good command. 
 Gordon is like me, Colonel ; he was opposed to the 
 policy of secession, but now that we are in for it, 
 and the honor of Virginia is at stake, he '11 be red- 
 hot for war." 
 
 " By gad, he shall have a good command, Joe. 
 He 's a West Pointer. He 's a man we need. He 
 shall have a captaincy at once. You must have 
 him in your regiment. I am to be a brigadier- 
 general ; I got my commission from the Confeder 
 ate Congress last week, but I did not tell you then 
 because I wanted to wait until Virginia was un 
 equivocally with us." 
 
 " Well, Virginia has made her position known, 
 John, and I mine. We are all with you to the 
 end." 
 
 " God bless you, old friend," replied Bowie. 
 " Come, let us discuss the important problem of 
 raising and arming troops." 
 
 " Has any one seen my son Gordon ? " inquired 
 Clayborne of a knot of gentlemen who stood in 
 animated discussion in front of the convention 
 hall. 
 
 " I saw him riding off down the street about 
 half an hour ago, judge. I reckon he 's gone off 
 to spread the news." 
 
 " Thank you, Major Mattheson. He 's gone off 
 home to tell his brother Clifford, and we '11 find 
 the boys with the campaign all laid out and the
 
 THE CLAYBORNE BLOOD 5 
 
 Yankees all whipped before night. Let us enter 
 into the fight with the same spirit as that of the 
 youngsters." 
 
 Lieutenant Gordon Clayborne, of the United 
 States Army, had graduated at West Point two 
 years before, and during this first period of his 
 career he had seen rough service upon the plains 
 and on the border of Mexico. He was now at 
 home upon the first leave of absence granted him 
 since he had put on the uniform and sworn alle 
 giance to the stars and stripes. 
 
 Lieutenant Clayborne, deeply stirred by the 
 momentous epoch in history which had that day 
 occurred, rode towards the family mansion, not 
 fast and furious, to be the first to bring the news 
 to the household, but at a much slower pace than 
 usual, with thoughtful mien and an expression of 
 care upon his face. 
 
 The announcement that the great State of Vir 
 ginia had actually cast off her allegiance to the 
 Union and had thrown her prestige and power 
 with the Confederacy was received throughout the 
 city with the wildest enthusiasm. Upon every 
 side the news was being spread. Bells were ring 
 ing, cannons were sounding, and people were as 
 sembling amid excitement and rejoicing. 
 
 As Gordon drew near his home, he found that 
 the news had preceded him, and he met young 
 Pendleton riding away. The latter reined up his 
 foam-flecked horse. 
 
 " I 've told Clifford. He 's coming to the meeting
 
 6 THE CLAYBORNES 
 
 to-night and says he'll bring you along. Ke- 
 gina Bowie is in there. She says she will make a 
 banner for the first regiment of horse. She is an 
 amazon to be proud of. Going to be at the muster, 
 Gordon ? Good-by, old man." And without stop 
 ping for any reply, the breathless Pendleton waved 
 his hand and galloped away on his pony. 
 
 Gordon rode up the driveway to the door of his 
 father's handsome house. It was towards the close 
 of a beautiful spring day. Across the green lawn 
 lay the long shadows of the afternoon, the robins 
 were piping their mellow evening notes, and the 
 slanting rays of the sun were shining in through 
 the large windows of the generous mansion. A 
 soft breeze rustled the lace curtains and as they 
 parted he could see his brother Clifford standing 
 near the piano while Regina played. 
 
 To the sound of the triumphal music Gordon 
 entered the house and went upstairs to his room. 
 
 The room was a study shared by the two 
 brothers. At one end stood the shelves with the 
 books which they had studied and read together. 
 At the other was an arsenal of rifles and fowling- 
 pieces, hunting-knives and pistols. There was the 
 fly-rod with which Clifford had caught his first 
 trout. There was the rifle with which Gordon had 
 shot his first deer. 
 
 Upon the wall at each side of the fireplace hung 
 a portrait. One was of their father ; the dark 
 curly hair, the slender nose, the proud curved lip, 
 were Clayborne features. The sweet-faced woman
 
 THE CLAYBORNE BLOOD 7 
 
 upon the opposite side was their mother. Joseph 
 Clayborne had found in New England the woman 
 who became his wife. The young Southerner had 
 been sent to Europe to put a final polish to his 
 education. After spending two years abroad he 
 returned to his own country, making a visit with 
 friends of his family in Boston. Young Joseph 
 was a gallant gentleman at this time, fresh from 
 the life in the gay capitals of Europe. He excited 
 curiosity, interest, and finally love in the breast of 
 the young puritan maid. And on his side the 
 heart which had proved invulnerable to the charms 
 of both French and English beauties was soon at 
 the feet of this prim little New England rose. The 
 cavalier and the puritan were united. Clayborne 
 transplanted his delicate flower from the rocky 
 soil of the East to the luxuriant land of Virginia. 
 
 Mrs. Clayborne had been a devoted wife, living 
 in the aspirations and ambitions of her husband. 
 Her delicate body had not caused her to shrink from 
 the responsibilities which such a life entailed. She 
 had stood to the task nobly. The slaves they owned 
 were so many human souls committed to her care. 
 To look after their welfare, moral and physical, 
 was to her a solemn duty. If they were sick, she 
 ministered to them, if their feet strayed from the 
 path of virtue, she tried to set them right. Slavery 
 was a heavy burden for such as Mrs. Clayborne. 
 Bravely she bore it until it killed her. 
 
 Into this beautiful face Gordon looked long and 
 earnestly ; from it his eyes turned to his father's
 
 8 THE CLAYBORNES 
 
 virile, animated countenance. Then he walked 
 through the apartment into his brother's bed 
 chamber and back into his own room with a quick, 
 nervous tread. 
 
 "Clifford," exclaimed Regina in the drawing- 
 room beneath, " is not that Gordon upstairs ? I 
 wonder why he did not come in here and tell us 
 the latest news." 
 
 " I did not hear him enter the house," was the 
 reply. 
 
 " Neither did I, but I know his step, and that is 
 it on the floor above." 
 
 " I will see if it is he, and find out why he did 
 not come into the drawing-room," and Clifford ran 
 swiftly upstairs. 
 
 " Gordon ! " he exclaimed as he entered the 
 room. " What is the matter. Are you ill ? " 
 
 " No, I am quite well, Clifford." 
 
 " But your face has such a strange disturbed 
 look. Has anything happened to father? " 
 
 No, Clifford." 
 
 " But I never saw you look like this before ; 
 you look five years older than you did yesterday. 
 Look at your face in the glass, man." 
 
 The two young men were much alike and re 
 sembled their father. They had the same dark 
 curly hair and white brow, the same frank open 
 countenance. A little more than two years sepa 
 rated them in age. Gordon was somewhat heavier 
 than Clifford, and taller, his chin was more deter 
 mined, and at times, his eyes wore a serious expres-
 
 THE CLAYBORNE BLOOD 9 
 
 sion which never came to Clifford's face. Clifford's 
 spirits were always like the air he breathed. He 
 never knew melancholy. He was as gallant as 
 Mars, with that courage which ignores danger be 
 cause it does not know fear. His respect for the 
 " code " and his belief in " righting a wrong where 
 it is given " had taken him more than once on to 
 the " field of honor." Strange to say, he was a 
 villainously poor shot, and so his adversaries had 
 come off scathless ; and as for Clifford himself, a 
 protecting Providence seems to have watched over 
 the boy, and save for a bullet hole through his 
 coat and a small scratch on the arm, his duels had 
 been bloodless. 
 
 " For the Lord's sake, Gordon, " cried Clifford, 
 as the former threw himself into an armchair, 
 " what has come over you ? I thought you would 
 come home all afire, and you are as cold and taci 
 turn as a mummy. I 've been at work all the 
 morning getting names for a company. The girls 
 are at work on a banner to be given to the first 
 complete organization. We '11 go to the meeting in 
 the hall to-night. You 11 get a commission the 
 first thing. Lord, but I wish I had your experi 
 ence, Gordon," rattled the younger brother as he 
 sat on the edge of the table. 
 
 " I 'm not going to the meeting to-night," said 
 Gordon quietly. 
 
 "Not going! " cried his brother, springing to the 
 floor in his astonishment ; " why you '11 miss your 
 chance of getting one of the first commissions.
 
 10 THE CLAYBORNES 
 
 You are certain to be made a captain at once, and 
 perhaps a major." 
 
 " I could not accept such a commission, Clifford." 
 
 The younger man could not find words to speak. 
 
 " You know right well," the elder brother con 
 tinued, speaking in a low voice, " that I am an 
 officer in the United States Army." 
 
 " There are no United States," cried Clifford. 
 
 " There is a Federal Army." 
 
 " How does that concern you ? General Twigg 
 
 gave all the officers of the regiment leave of 
 
 absence, expecting they would go to their homes 
 and give their services to the Confederacy." ' 
 
 "I cannot judge of General Twigg's motives. 
 I have just received an order from the War De 
 partment to report at Washington." 
 
 " And you are going to obey it ? " 
 
 " I am going to obey it." 
 
 " Well, damn me, Gordon ! " 
 
 " Clifford," said his brother, " you know I have 
 been opposed to secession. I have often spoken 
 against it publicly and privately, but apart from 
 that, I have taken a solemn oath of allegiance to 
 the United States. Would you have me break 
 that oath?" 
 
 " If necessary, yes," cried Clifford vehemently ; 
 " but it is not necessary. T? he oath is no longer 
 binding." 
 
 " It holds me." 
 
 " Then break it, Gordon. You are in duty 
 bound to break it into a thousand pieces."
 
 THE CLAYBORNE BLOOD 11 
 
 " Tell me, Clifford," and there was a note of 
 deep earnestness in the elder man's voice, " have 
 I ever said or done anything to make you think I 
 would alter my convictions ? " 
 
 Clifford struggled to suppress the tumult which 
 his brother's words aroused within him. He tried 
 to answer slowly and with coherence. "You have 
 opposed secession, yes ; so has father, so have many 
 other Southern gentlemen, but now the time for 
 argument has passed. Virginia has seceded and 
 we must go with our State. Before Heaven, Gor 
 don, I never dreamed that when the crucial mo 
 ment came you would act otherwise." 
 
 " Clifford, old man, I have thought the matter 
 all out in my own mind. I have struggled oh, 
 my dear boy, you can't realize how I have strug 
 gled, but I have always come out at the same end 
 ing : I was educated at West Point. I have taken 
 an oath of allegiance to the Government. I must 
 not violate it." 
 
 " By God, sir, I would violate it if it came in 
 conflict with my duty to my State." 
 
 " Well, I cannot, I cannot ! " 
 
 Clifford burst forth furiously. 
 
 " Can you forget what our family is and what 
 are its traditions ? Can you see those of your own 
 blood going to the front to do their duty as men, 
 and not be stirred to strike one blow for the State 
 we love ? Gordon ! Think for a moment what 
 will be said of you, of us I cannot bear it. I 
 had rather see you dead at my feet."
 
 12 THE CLAYBORNES 
 
 " And our country, Clifford, which as boys we 
 were taught to love, shall we strike at her ? Do 
 you remember how as boys we pored over the 
 pages of history, glorying in the brave deeds of 
 our war of independence ? The heroes of those days 
 shed their blood for a united country, not for a 
 part of it. The work of those great men who 
 framed the Constitution, who gave their brains, 
 their fortunes, and their lives in the building of a 
 nation, gave them for a whole nation, not for Vir 
 ginia alone. We are descended from some of those 
 heroes, Clifford, and we owe our first allegiance to 
 the country which is our heritage from them, not 
 to one section of it. No, not even to Virginia 
 God bless her ! " 
 
 " Yes, God bless her ! and it is to her we owe 
 our nearest allegiance," said Clifford, " and we will 
 fight under her flag." 
 
 Shouts and cheering were heard from the square 
 in front of their house. Gordon put his hand 
 affectionately upon his brother's shoulder, and to 
 gether they walked toward the window. Clifford's 
 brow was knitted and the emotions which he en 
 deavored to control showed themselves upon his 
 mobile face. 
 
 A large crowd had assembled in the square. 
 From the flagstaff in the centre a United States 
 flag was still flying proudly. Even as the brothers 
 looked some one pulled upon the ropes and the 
 flag came rapidly down, falling upon the ground 
 at the man's feet. There was a momentary silence,
 
 THE CLAYBORNE BLOOD 13 
 
 then amid frantic cheers another flag rose in its 
 place. 
 
 " I have saluted the old flag so often, Clifford, 
 that it wrenches my heart to see them take it 
 down. That is the flag we have both been taught 
 to love. Father used to teach us to cheer it when 
 we were tiny boys. Can we forget that it is the 
 same flag that Washington carried with him to 
 Valley Forge in the hour of darkness, or which 
 waved at Yorktown in the hour of triumph ? Can 
 we forget that it is the flag which enfolded the 
 brave Lawrence as he lay dead upon the Chesa 
 peake? Are we to trample it beneath our feet 
 now?" 
 
 " Yes," replied Clifford hotly, " since the North 
 has forced the issue upon them the shame. 
 Virginia will be true to herself." 
 
 " And I must be true to myself," replied Gordon 
 with equal warmth. 
 
 " Think what will be said of you," cried Clif 
 ford. " Men will call you a Yankee, a coward, 
 an Abolitionist, and I shall hang my head with 
 shame. I cannot bear it." 
 
 "You forget that our mother came from New 
 England, Clifford." 
 
 " Yes, but she married a Southern gentleman." 
 
 Am I a coward, Clifford ? " 
 
 " I should like to see the man who would call a 
 Clayborne a coward in my presence," replied his 
 brother defiantly. 
 
 " Am I an Abolitionist ? "
 
 14 THE CLAYBORNES 
 
 " No, thank Heaven, you are not that. However 
 absurd, however fanatical your opinion in regard 
 to the Union, you are no Abolitionist." Clifford 
 stormed up and down the room. " It is the Aboli 
 tionists who are the cause of the war," he ex 
 claimed bitterly, "they will prolong slavery a 
 hundred years. It is their intolerance which has 
 forced the South into her position. Why could 
 they not leave us alone with our slavery? If it is 
 a curse, it is our curse, not theirs ! " 
 
 In his excited march he stumbled over a valise 
 which lay half concealed on the floor, near the 
 table. " What the devil ! " he cried, looking down 
 to see what had tripped him. Then recovering him 
 self he said with forced calmness, " Gordon, you 
 have already been packing to go away ? " 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 " When are you going ? " 
 
 " To-morrow morning." 
 
 " You shall not go. You shall not fight for the 
 Abolitionists ! " 
 
 " I have got to obey orders." 
 
 With blazing eyes Clifford confronted his 
 brother. " That you shall not do ! " he cried 
 excitedly. " You shall never be a traitor." 
 
 Gordon's face flushed. " Do not use that term. 
 I can bear much from you with patience, but not 
 that." 
 
 " I would to Heaven it were not so, but I shall 
 speak the truth. If you are a traitor, you must 
 become accustomed to the name."
 
 THE CLAYBORNE BLOOD 15 
 
 " Clifford ! " cried Gordon, seizing his brother 
 by the arms. 
 
 " Take your hands off, traitor ! " 
 
 " Not until you unsay that word." 
 
 Clifford's only answer was to struggle to break 
 his brother's hold, breathing quickly through his 
 clenched teeth. 
 
 " Take back that word and I will let you go." 
 
 " You are stronger than I," panted Clifford ; 
 " you are stronger, and you use your strength like 
 a coward." 
 
 " Go ! " said Gordon, pushing Clifford from 
 him " go before I hurt you." 
 
 " You shall not leave this house yet, Gordon 
 Clayborne," cried Clifford. "You shall not dis 
 grace our name while I live." 
 
 As he spoke thus in great excitement, he ran 
 to the cupboard and drew down a box, which he 
 placed upon the centre of the table with a bang. 
 
 " The side which you have chosen pits brother 
 against brother," he said hoarsely ; "so be it, but 
 let the fight begin here and now," and he took 
 from the box a pair of old-fashioned dueling 
 pistols. 
 
 " Clifford, are you mad ? What would you 
 do?" 
 
 " Protect the honor of my name and of yours, 
 Gordon Clayborne, for either you will fight me 
 here in this room, or you will give up your purpose 
 to join the North." 
 
 " Clifford, put up those pistols ! "
 
 16 THE CLAYBORNES 
 
 "Will you fight?" 
 
 "No!" 
 
 Clifford went to the door, locked it, and threw 
 the key on the floor. He was deadly pale. Tak 
 ing the pistols from their case, he laid them upon 
 the table. 
 
 " By God, you shall fight, sir," cried Clifford 
 passionately ; " you shall fight, or be a coward as 
 well as a traitor." 
 
 With a bound the elder sprang across the room 
 and caught the younger brother by the arms. They 
 struggled together violently for a few moments, 
 their anger rising to white heat ; Gordon, stronger 
 than Clifford, was bending him to the floor. 
 
 " Coward, coward ! " panted the latter through 
 his teeth ; " coward and traitor ! " 
 
 Gordon, his Clay borne blood surging hot with 
 passion, threw his brother from him. "Damn 
 you, Clifford, if you will have it, I'll fight you 
 now." 
 
 " I will have it, Gordon," replied Clifford, draw 
 ing a deep breath. 
 
 From his brother's passionate face, Gordon's 
 eye chanced to rest on the portrait of their mother, 
 and he controlled his own anger suddenly. 
 
 " Clifford, a duel at such short range means 
 death to both of us." 
 
 " Better death to both than dishonor to either," 
 was the reply. 
 
 " So be it," exclaimed Gordon, and taking up 
 the pistols he proceeded to load them.
 
 THE CLAYBORNE BLOOD 17 
 
 Clifford stood near the door with arms folded, 
 struggling to appear master of himself. 
 
 " Will you count, or shall I ? " he asked huskily. 
 
 Gordon, who was now cool and self-possessed, 
 walked across the room to a large old-fashioned 
 clock that stood in the corner. Turning the min*- 
 ute hand until it pointed within a few moments of 
 six, he replied : " At the last stroke of the hour 
 we will fire." 
 
 " Very well," bowed Clifford in assent, and took 
 up his position by the door. 
 
 Gordon stepped to the farther end of the room. 
 The brothers faced each other with a scant seven 
 paces between them. 
 
 " I declare to you, Gordon, upon my soul," cried 
 Clifford, " I would gladly stand here unarmed and 
 receive your fire, if by so doing I could turn you 
 from your purpose." 
 
 " My purpose is unalterable, Clifford." 
 
 The pistols were leveled. 
 
 One! The perspiration stood on Clifford's fore 
 head. His hand shook. " Damn you, Gordon, 
 you 're as cool as ice." 
 
 Two! Clifford straightened himself and com 
 pressed his lips* 
 
 The clock continued to strike in slow, deep- 
 toned, musical notes. 
 
 Three! 
 
 Four ! 
 
 Five! 
 
 Six!
 
 18 THE CLAYBORNES 
 
 There was a blinding discharge of flame and 
 smoke with a crash that awoke the echoes of the 
 old house and shook the windows in their case 
 ments. As the smoke lifted, and began to drift 
 through the open window, it disclosed Clifford 
 standing mute and horror-stricken, while Gordon 
 leaned against a chair, a mark of burnt powder 
 above his temple. With a cry Clifford sprang 
 forward and caught his brother in his arms : 
 " Gordon, have I killed you ? I swear I did not 
 mean it ! I swear I did not mean it ! Speak and 
 tell me you are not badly hurt. I aimed at your 
 arm, I wanted to disable you so you could not go 
 my hand trembled, I'm such a damned bad 
 shot Oh, Gordon, I have killed you ! " 
 
 Gordon straightened himself up. " I am not 
 hurt." 
 
 " Not hurt ! " repeated Clifford in wonder. 
 " But you are wounded in the head." 
 
 "It is nothing," and Gordon wiped the spot 
 away with his handkerchief. " I am not wounded." 
 
 " Thank God 1 " ejaculated his younger brother 
 reverently. " I thank God. I aimed at your 
 arm, Gordon, but I might have killed you." 
 
 Gordon looked his brother full in the face while 
 the moisture came into his own eyes as he said : 
 " Clifford, that was made by the wadding ; you don't 
 suppose I 'd load those pistols with balls, do you? " 
 
 Clifford stood in silence for a moment, then he 
 put out his hand,, which was clasped by his elder 
 brother.
 
 THE CLAYBORNE BLOOD 19 
 
 " Clifford, we have been together all our lives ; 
 we part now perhaps never to see each other again 
 in this world, but, if we do meet, remember that 
 we did not part in anger."
 
 CHAPTER II 
 REGINA BOWIE 
 
 REGINA BOWIE heard voices raised in discord in 
 the room above. She went to the door, hesitating 
 whether or not to go upstairs and assume the role 
 of peacemaker. 
 
 The brothers were not in the habit of quarrel 
 ing, but once when they had fallen out, Miss Re- 
 gina had thought it her duty to play the mediator. 
 She had found it an ungrateful task, for both of 
 the young belligerents had turned upon her and 
 sent her away in great discomfiture. This had 
 happened some years ago, but Regina had a reten 
 tive memory. " Let them settle it between them. 
 I '11 go home, and when they come to me I shall 
 find out all about it," she said to herself. 
 
 Miss Regina was right. After supper Clifford 
 Clayborne appeared at her house. He had come 
 to take her to the Town Hall where speeches were 
 to be made ; where troops were to be raised : 
 where fervid eloquence and martial enthusiasm 
 were to have full sway. 
 
 For almost the first tune in his life Clifford's 
 manner was moody, and his usually bright face 
 was overcast as he stood in the hallway of the
 
 REGINA BOWIE 21 
 
 Bowie mansion waiting for the young lady of the 
 house to descend. As she came down the stair 
 way she was a picture to dispel the cloud from 
 any man's brow. She was a woman radiant with 
 health and spirits. She seemed to impart the joy 
 of living to all who came within her sphere. 
 
 " Why, where is Gordon ? " she asked in sur 
 prise as she gave Clifford her hand. 
 
 " Gordon is at home," was the brief reply. 
 
 Clifford was evidently not in his usual expansive 
 and communicative vein. 
 
 " The trouble must be more serious than I sup 
 posed," the young lady mused. " Is that all you 
 have to say ? " she inquired aloud. 
 
 " If you 're ready, we '11 go along," he answered. 
 
 She threw a fichu over her head with a careless 
 gesture, at the same time making sure that one of 
 her dark curls was coquettishly exposed. Looking 
 at him seriously she asked abruptly : 
 
 " What is the trouble between you two ? " 
 
 Clifford's chagrin was so great that he was at 
 first not inclined to speak. She laid her hand 
 upon his arm, saying gently : 
 
 " Come, tell me about it, Cliff," and led the way 
 to the parlor. 
 
 In a few words he told her what had taken 
 place between his brother and himself, omitting 
 any mention of the bloodless duel. 
 
 She listened with amazement. 
 
 " We must prevent his going ! " she exclaimed 
 as Clifford finished.
 
 22 THE CLAYBORNES 
 
 " But how, Regina ? " 
 
 " You have reasoned with him ? " 
 
 I have." 
 
 " Oh, a man's arguments ; I know. You prob 
 ably lost your tempers, both of you." 
 
 " Perhaps." 
 
 " Clifford, will you ask Gordon if he will not 
 come over and see me ? " 
 
 " It will be useless. You know how impossible 
 it is to move Gordon." 
 
 " I will try it, Clifford," she replied, throwing 
 her wrap off on to a chair with a gesture of de 
 termination. " We must keep him from this 
 rash, foolish act, Clifford. We both of us must 
 use all our power. Please see if he won't come 
 over now. Merely tell him I should like to speak 
 to him." 
 
 " Very well, Regina, I hope you may be success 
 ful ; " and Clifford left the house. 
 
 " I must keep Gordon Clayborne from taking 
 this irretrievable and ruinous step," she repeated 
 to herself as she walked up and down the floor. 
 " If you put the matter before him in its right 
 light, I think you can influence him, Regina 
 Bowie." And she paused before the figure re 
 flected in the full-length mirror. 
 
 She did not have more than her fair share of 
 vanity, but she could not help smiling at what she 
 saw there. It was the graceful form of a young 
 woman who was handsome and was sure of herself. 
 Besides, enough men had told her of her beauty to
 
 REGINA BOWIE 23 
 
 i 
 
 convince her, had she ever been the least skeptical 
 on that point. The face was warm-tinted with 
 health, and the eyes that smiled back at her were 
 wondrous eyes. They could be merry or serious, 
 they could look defiant or stern, or pleading or 
 pathetic, they could flash with anger or burn with 
 the soft light of love. They were valuable eyes, 
 and their owner knew their value. She turned 
 away from the mirror and sitting down in an arm 
 chair waited quietly for Gordon, with her chin 
 resting in the hollow of her hand. 
 
 Regina Bowie was an influence within her social 
 circle. She was clever, witty, a good companion, 
 and gifted to a high degree with the power to 
 please. Perhaps she exerted this power more with 
 men than with women, for she was a greater favor 
 ite among the former. Very few were the men 
 who came within the magic of her spell, who did not 
 at one time or another give some manifestation of 
 their tender regard. In fact so many young gentle 
 men had testified as to their ardent devotion that 
 she had become accustomed to the avowals. As 
 for Clifford Clayborne, he did not count. He had 
 been in love with every pretty girl of his acquaint 
 ance ; and he did not know any plain ones. Gor 
 don, however, was different. Not that he was 
 insensible to the charms of that sex which poets 
 have called the fair, the false, the fickle, the 
 weaker, the gentle, or the frail, as the mood dic 
 tated. The young fellow who at twenty-five has 
 never thought himself in love must be an anomaly ;
 
 24 THE CLAYBORNES 
 
 but Gordon was of a more serious turn of mind 
 than the volatile Clifford. 
 
 Regina Bowie was a woman who could guard 
 a secret thoroughly ; still she could have told, had 
 she been so minded, of an afternoon in the orchard, 
 when the sunshine was bright, and the air rich 
 with the fragrance of spring, when Gordon Clay- 
 borne showed her that he was " like the others? " 
 Well, not exactly, but he showed her that he was 
 far from indifferent to her. All this had happened 
 a little time ago, and they had since continued to 
 be the best of friends. 
 
 Regina liked Gordon. She admired him for his 
 strength, his courage, his manly bearing, and now 
 she was grieved and shocked to learn that he could 
 repudiate the cause which she held as sacred. She 
 felt conscious that her power to move him had not 
 altogether waned, and she set her lips firmly as she 
 whispered to herself : " He shall not do this thing 
 if I can keep him from it." 
 
 Gordon entered the room. She arose from her 
 chair, came swiftly to him and gave him both her 
 hands. 
 
 " I am glad you have come," she said in a soft, 
 harmonious tone. " I hope it is to tell me that 
 Clifford is mistaken ! Oh, tell me that he is 
 mistaken ! " 
 
 " What Clifford said is true, Regina." 
 
 " You are going to fight for the Yankees ? " she 
 cried in a tone of horror, dropping his hands and 
 stepping backward.
 
 REGINA BOWIE 25 
 
 "I feel it my duty to serve the United States." 
 
 " They no longer exist," she replied scornfully. 
 
 " I am still in the United States Army," he 
 answered, "but I can never make you understand 
 my position, Regina." 
 
 " I will try to understand. I want to under 
 stand you, Gordon ; sit down here and let me try." 
 
 She made room for him upon the sofa beside 
 her and looked into his face intently. 
 
 " You know, Regina, you have known for a long 
 time, what my convictions have been." 
 
 " I know," she replied softly. " And I know also 
 that the same opinions were held by Early, Wick- 
 ham, and many other splendid men; but they will 
 now fight for the South, whatever were their pre 
 vious opinions." 
 
 " I wish, Regina, oh, I sincerely wish I could 
 feel as they do, but I cannot. I must follow my 
 own convictions, no matter at what cost." 
 
 " I want you to follow them, Gordon ; but I 
 want you to follow the right course, don't you 
 see?" 
 
 " I am following the right course. I wish it 
 were not ; I wish that I could change." 
 
 " How can it be the right one, when your father, 
 your brother, every one is on the other side ? How 
 can you alone be right and they all be wrong? 
 Oh, Gordon, why do I listen to you ! " She rose 
 to her feet with excitement. " If any other man 
 should express even half a doubt as to the success 
 of our arms I would cut his acquaintance," she
 
 26 THE CLAYBORNES 
 
 said passionately. " Yet I listen to you when you 
 talk this treason. Do you know what I have been 
 saying to myself these many days ? I have said, 
 When the time for action comes Gordon Clayborne 
 will be found in the first rank, among the very 
 bravest, fighting for our cause, and I can look 
 upon him as a hero." Her voice dropped on the 
 last words as if the confession had slipped from 
 her lips unconsciously. 
 
 " I am no hero, Regina." 
 
 " You are brave and daring, Gordon ; I have 
 always known that. Be loyal and true." 
 
 " I must be loyal to the Nation's flag. I must 
 follow it at whatever cost to myself," he answered. 
 
 " And at whatever cost to others ? " she inquired, 
 coming closer to him ; " are you willing to make 
 others unhappy by your action ? " 
 
 There was a fascinating grace with which she 
 dwelt upon the plural number of the word while 
 her eyes and the soft accents of her voice gave it 
 the meaning of the singular. 
 
 He could not look into those wonderful eyes 
 without feeling how lovely and charming she was. 
 She had often bewitched him with her captivating 
 ways and her audacious spirit, but never had he felt 
 her power to a greater degree than at this moment. 
 
 For a few moments he sat in silence. In his 
 strong nature was that curious mixture, the dash 
 ing, chivalrous cavalier of the Clayborne blood that 
 could not bear to deny a woman ; and the stern, 
 unyielding devotion to duty of his puritan mother.
 
 REGINA BOWIE 27 
 
 These two conflicting elements were waging fierce 
 war within him while Regina Bowie's hand rested 
 appealingly upon his sleeve. 
 
 She could not understand the struggle taking 
 place within him, and impatient at his silence burst 
 forth passionately : " Oh ! if I were a man ! I 
 should know how to fight I should know how 
 to win but I 'm only a woman. The man whom 
 I have always held to be both brave and gallant 
 disavows our cause. He is unworthy. I should 
 dismiss him from my thoughts but I cannot. 
 I feel his disgrace as if it were mine." 
 
 Gordon rose to his feet and paced the room 
 feverishly. " I am deeply sorry that I give you 
 cause for grief, but I must adhere to my resolve at 
 whatever cost to myself or any one," he exclaimed 
 firmly. 
 
 With that quickness which was her nature she 
 struck the soft note again : 
 
 " It is not alone the pain you cause me, but 
 think of your father and your brother. Think of 
 the proud record of your family in the past. 
 Think of the future, Gordon. In the time which 
 is coming Virginia will be made still more glorious 
 by the valor of her sons ! Are those who shall 
 read the roll of honor not to see the name of Gor 
 don Clayborne written there ? Oh, Gordon, let me 
 plead with you for the sake of your family, if not 
 for my own ! Let me plead with you for the sake 
 of all those whom you hold dear, and who love 
 
 you."
 
 28 THE CLAYBORNES 
 
 " Regina," he cried passionately, " you put me 
 upon the rack, every word you speak is an added 
 torture. If I could only make you realize the hours 
 of doubt and struggle I have been through. How 
 I have reasoned and argued with myself to come 
 to but one decision. My position is different from 
 my father's or my brother's. I am an officer in 
 the Army of the United States. I have sworn 
 allegiance to that government. I cannot break 
 that oath. Do not ask me to do so, Regina." 
 
 " I would not ask you to do anything dishonor 
 able. You know that, don't you, Gordon ? " 
 
 " Let us say good-night and end this painful 
 scene," he said quickly, putting out his hand. She 
 took the proffered hand. " Try to think the very 
 best you can of me, Regina," he said gently, " and 
 even if you cannot understand my motives, believe 
 that I am endeavoring to be true to myself." 
 
 " I shall always believe that, Gordon." 
 
 " Good-night, Regina." 
 
 " One word more," she exclaimed, detaining him 
 by the arm. " In a case where two lines of duty 
 seem to conflict, Gordon, is it not the course of an 
 honorable man to choose the greater duty ? " 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 " Then, if the duty that you owed to your State 
 were greater than duty to the Federal Govern 
 ment, would you not be doing right to serve the 
 former ? " 
 
 " If it were greater, yes." 
 
 " But it is"
 
 REGINA BOWIE 29 
 
 He shook his head sadly. " It all hinges on 
 that. I cannot see it, Regina." 
 
 "Think it all over to-night," she pleaded ear 
 nestly. " Think of what I have said, and in the 
 morning when I see you I am sure you will have 
 changed." 
 
 " Good-night, Regina." 
 
 " You will think of what I have said ? " 
 
 "How can I help it?" 
 
 " Good-night, Gordon." 
 
 He left her. She heard his quick footsteps on 
 the gravel walk. She remained standing with a 
 smile on her lips, but the spirit within her raged 
 fiercely. 
 
 " How provoking he is, how obstinate ! But I 
 shall keep him with us. It will be more difficult 
 than I imagined, but I will do it." 
 
 Gordon walked up and down the floor of his 
 room. His interview with Regina had caused the 
 struggle to be renewed within him. Late into the 
 night he strode restlessly back and forth, his spirit 
 torn by conflicting emotions. At last, worn out 
 with mental and bodily fatigue, he threw himself 
 down upon the bed fully dressed, and almost im 
 mediately fell asleep. 
 
 The next morning before breakfast, Miss Regina 
 Bowie went out into her garden. Walking among 
 the flowers she looked as fresh as the brightest 
 that raised its head to the morning sunlight. 
 
 " Good-morning, Clifford," she called gayly to 
 that young gentleman, who came out upon the
 
 30 
 
 veranda of the neighboring house. She beckoned 
 to him and he came slowly across the lawn and 
 leaned his elbows on the fence. " Did you go to 
 the meeting, last night, Clifford ? " 
 
 Yes." 
 
 " What was done ? How were the speeches ? " 
 
 " The speeches were good enough. We raised 
 a company right there." Somehow Clifford did 
 not speak with his accustomed vivacity. He had a 
 listless manner as if he had slept badly. 
 
 Regina looked at him closely. " Have you seen 
 your brother this morning? " she asked. 
 
 " No, Gordon 's gone. He went off before day 
 light. Gone to fight for the Yankees," with a 
 bitter laugh. 
 
 Regina gave a start of genuine surprise. She 
 turned pale. A curious light shone in her eyes. 
 A look of disappointment and anger and resent 
 ment. She recovered herself quickly. 
 
 " Don't you think this is a beautiful primrose, 
 Clifford ? " she said. " Here, put it in your but 
 ton-hole. And oh, Clifford, I 've got the banner 
 almost done. Come into the house and see it."
 
 CHAPTER HI 
 THE CLAYBOENE HORSE 
 
 COLONEL JOSEPH CLAYBORNE had mustered his 
 troop of horse and led them into camp. He rode 
 at their front with his dark head erect, and a look 
 of pride on his open, genial face. He did not dis 
 guise the pride which he took in the body of men 
 who had rallied to his standard, but there was an 
 expression of sadness in his eyes as he surveyed 
 them and thought of his elder son who was not 
 one of them. There was a catch in his voice as 
 he gave a command to Major Colbert, and thought 
 that it should have been to Major Gordon Clay- 
 borne. But he swallowed his sorrow and spoke to 
 Colbert in that tone of familiar affection which so 
 endeared him to his men. 
 
 Once in camp, Colonel Clayborne began to give 
 his troopers a little taste of martial discipline. 
 Discipline ! these lusty young tyros did not know 
 the meaning of the word ! Wild harum-skarum 
 young fellows they were for the most part: many 
 of them wealthy, accustomed to indulgent ease ; 
 young bucks about town, fresh from the club and 
 the drawing-room ; sons of planters, dressed in 
 broadcloth and fine linen, who had never lifted a 
 finger in monotonous toil.
 
 32 THE CLAYBORNES 
 
 If they did not know discipline, they also did 
 not know fear. Though they were used to lux 
 ury, and had taken the cream of life with the 
 haughty assumption of rank, they could ride all 
 day in the saddle without fatigue. They could 
 endure cold and hunger, and at night could dine 
 merrily on a crust of bread if nothing better was 
 forthcoming. 
 
 They could fight. They had come out for that, 
 and were quite willing to waive the tedium of drill 
 and the restraint of discipline, and drive hot 
 headed towards the enemy. Colonel Clayborne, 
 as a youth, had seen service in the Mexican war, 
 and he was aware of the absolute necessity of 
 organization, so by bullying and cajoling, he man 
 aged to bring together a goodly showing at the 
 daily drills. The men were all hot for war, and 
 when they discovered that the sooner they mas 
 tered the manual of arms the sooner they would 
 get an opportunity to exercise them, every man 
 among them threw himself into the task with 
 ardor. 
 
 Out of the ranks, however, they were as un- 
 trammeled by military traditions as so many inde 
 pendent lords of the manor. Their camp resem 
 bled the famous "Field of the Cloth of Gold." 
 Their personal equipment would have accommo 
 dated a brigade, and their body servants were a 
 small army in themselves. 
 
 Those were sunny days of war before swords had 
 crossed, before cannon had thinned the ranks and
 
 THE CLAYBORNE HORSE 33 
 
 blood had dimmed the lustre of gorgeous uni 
 forms. 
 
 Daintily dressed ladies drove out daily to visit 
 them, and vied with each other in courting the 
 attentions of the brave warriors. " Camp Clay- 
 borne " looked like a flower-garden ; and the only 
 fatal shots came from Cupid's noiseless bow. 
 
 On one sunny afternoon Clifford Clayborne was 
 leaning nonchalantly against a tree smoking a big 
 black cigar. He was dressed in a new uniform 
 which he had ordered with particular care from a 
 fashionable tailor. The result, which would have 
 been appropriate for a field-marshal, was entirely 
 satisfactory to Clifford, who at present was a pri 
 vate in his father's troop of horse. 
 
 " Let the young man win his spurs," Colonel 
 Clayborne had said, and placed his son in the ranks 
 with Spartan firmness. 
 
 But whether an officer or a private, Clifford had 
 a position to maintain, and he was always equal to 
 his position. That afternoon Private Clayborne 
 had been ordered by a lieutenant to do some guard 
 duty, but the task had proved distasteful to him, 
 so he had delegated the work and was cooling his 
 spurs under the shade of an inviting tree while he 
 puffed contentedly upon an Havana cigar. The 
 lieutenant, in a uniform somewhat less magnificent 
 than his subordinate's, strolled by. 
 
 " Hello, Clayborne, I thought you were detailed 
 to guard duty." 
 
 " Too hot work on such an afternoon, Lieuten 
 ant."
 
 34 THE CLAYBORNES 
 
 " Dash it, Clayborne, you are going too far. 
 Don't you mean to obey orders ? " 
 
 " I '11 obey any orders that are sensible orders, 
 but while we are still a hundred miles from any 
 enemy, I '11 be damned if I 'm going to broil my 
 skin in the hot sun to please any one." 
 
 " Colonel Clayborne says there must be more 
 discipline in this camp ; as an officer I 'm bound 
 to enforce it. If you don't obey orders I shall 
 report you, Mr. Clayborne." 
 
 " If you report me, there '11 be trouble between 
 us, Lieutenant Marmaduke Preston. Now, I don't 
 want to be unreasonable, but I think you owe me 
 an apology." 
 
 " An apology ? " gasped the lieutenant ; " me 
 apologize to a private ? " 
 
 " No, sir, I don't ask that ; but as one gentleman 
 to another I demand one. You must have known 
 that on this afternoon the duty assigned would be 
 particularly distasteful to me. I told you I was 
 expecting a party of ladies to drive out from town. 
 I want to be in a position to show them some at 
 tention. You would have deprived me of the 
 pleasure." 
 
 " Well, if that 's the case, Mr. Clayborne, I beg 
 to express my regrets for the unfortunate order ; 
 of course I did not mean " 
 
 " Oh, don't say anything further about it, Pres 
 ton," exclaimed Clifford magnanimously. " Of 
 course I want you to understand that under ordi 
 nary circumstances, if there is anything I can do at 
 any time I shall be only too happy to oblige."
 
 THE CLAYBORNE HORSE 35 
 
 " Yes, of course," replied the lieutenant. Then 
 his face brightening, he remarked : " There are 
 some mules over there which have eaten their 
 tethers and are at present making some little havoc 
 among the supply wagons ; could you make it con 
 venient " 
 
 " Certainly," replied Clifford heartily. " Here, 
 Brutus," he called out to a negro who was at some 
 distance, " come here at once." 
 
 " Yes, Marse Clayborne," cried the colored ser 
 vant, running towards them. 
 
 " You catch those mules over there and tie them 
 up some place securely. If you value your dusky 
 hide, don't you let them get away. You under 
 stand ? " 
 
 " 'Deed I '11 be right careful, Marse Clayborne." 
 
 " Thank you, Clayborne," said the lieutenant. 
 " What do you say to going up to headquarters ? 
 I think there 's a jolly party just driven up there. 
 Miss Susie Brent and her cousin were in the car 
 riage." 
 
 " I '11 join you with pleasure, Preston ; will you 
 have a cigar ? " 
 
 " Thanks, yes." And the two young soldiers 
 went off amicably together. 
 
 A young dandy was standing as sentry outside 
 of the colonel's gate at headquarters. His face 
 wore an expression of great tedium and he yawned 
 from time to time wearily. His countenance 
 lighted up somewhat at the sight of Clifford and 
 the lieutenant.
 
 36 THE CLAYBORNES 
 
 " Cliff, my boy, have you got a cigar about you ? 
 I 'm bored to death standing here in the sun. I 've 
 got another hour of it." 
 
 "You have my entire sympathy, Pendleton. 
 But why don't you cut the job ? " 
 
 " I would, but Major Colbert asked me to stay 
 here and keep out any visitors while he has a con 
 fab with your father and General Beauregard, who 
 has called. Got a match, Lieutenant, thanks ! 
 The major is such a jolly good fellow, I like to 
 oblige him," young Pendleton went on as he lit 
 the cigar. 
 
 " The major 's a mighty good fellow," Clifford 
 assented, leaning against the gate-post, " but he 
 can't play cards worth a cent. A few of us were 
 sitting in a little game at his quarters last evening 
 and we got pretty near everything the major had." 
 
 " Sorry I was unable to be present, but I had 
 an engagement up in the city last night. I did not 
 get back until early this morning ; " and young 
 Pendleton yawned again. 
 
 " We got to playing for pay-vouchers and 
 quartermaster's orders," said Clifford. 
 
 " Pay- vouchers and quartermaster's orders ? " 
 interrupted Pendleton. " What in the devil are 
 those ? " 
 
 " Why, did n't you know that we are getting pay 
 from the C. S. Government ? " demanded Lieuten 
 ant Preston. 
 
 " This is the first I 've heard of it," answered 
 Pendleton.
 
 THE CLAYBORNE HORSE 37 
 
 " Well, we are. You 're getting your pay for 
 standing out here now in the sun." 
 
 " Well, I 'm damned," exclaimed young Peiidle- 
 ton, laughing heartily. " So I 'm getting paid for 
 drilling, and for fighting the Yankees ; that beats 
 me. Why, I never earned a cent in my life, and 
 to think that there is a pecuniary consideration in 
 all this army life just knocks me. Why, this is 
 really earning your bread by the sweat of your 
 brow, hey, Clifford ! " and Pendleton laughed 
 louder than ever. 
 
 " And what is more," Clifford replied, " the 
 Government is going to supply every soldier with 
 food and clothing." 
 
 " What ! " cried Pendleton in open-eyed aston 
 ishment ; " clothes too ! By Jove, fellows, that 's 
 like being charity boys, is n't it ? Well, that is 
 rich. I never expected to see the day when Buck 
 Pendleton would be ' drawing his pay ' or stand 
 ing in line with a ticket ' entitling the bearer to 
 one pair of new boots ; ' " and the young dandy 
 laughed immoderately. 
 
 " There 's where the fun comes in," exclaimed 
 Clifford ; " it was only last night that we heard of 
 this parental government system. Some of the 
 boys were for refusing any remuneration whatever, 
 as being beneath the dignity of a gentleman and a 
 soldier to fight for hire ; but little Cecil Granger 
 suggested that we should play cards for the pay- 
 vouchers. The boys took to the scheme at once. 
 The consequence was I came away with a month of
 
 38 THE CLAYBORNES 
 
 Major Colbert's future pay, together with orders 
 for two pairs of boots, a new coat, a woolen blanket, 
 and I don't know how many pairs of regulation 
 army pants." 
 
 " That 's the best joke I 've heard for a good 
 while," cried Pendleton, slapping his leg with 
 delight. " I '11 go into that game at once. I 'm 
 going to give an informal little dinner at the 
 Spotswood in town to-night. I want you and 
 Preston to come. I '11 warn you in advance, Clif 
 ford, I 'm going to put up a strong game to win 
 some of those pants." 
 
 " I '11 bet you two pairs of boots I come out 
 ahead," retorted Clifford promptly. 
 
 " Done ! " replied Pendleton gayly ; " and I '11 
 invite Major Colbert and let him have a chance to 
 get back his month's pay. Poor major ! " 
 
 " All right, Pen, we '11 be on hand at six o'clock, 
 but we '11 have to leave you now, as I see Miss 
 Brent and Miss Price over by the doctor's tent. 
 Sorry you can't come with us Pen, my boy." 
 
 " Never mind, you may be in the same box some 
 day, Clifford, and then I '11 have the laugh on 
 you." 
 
 " All right, sonny ! Good-by for the present." 
 
 " Good-by. If you see Cecil Granger ask him 
 to join us to-night, will you, Clifford ? " 
 
 " I will and how about Captain Dalany ? " 
 asked Clifford. 
 
 " Oh, I 'm not going to invite him, Cliff. He 's 
 not in our set ! "
 
 THE CLAYBORNE HORSE 39 
 
 " I know that, but I thought the army was a 
 kind of a leveler and you might want to take him 
 in." 
 
 " No, the captain 's all right in his place ; he 
 knows the military drill, but I don't think we 
 should be too free in letting down the bars, Cliff, 
 so I think I won't include him. Good afternoon, 
 boys. I 'm glad to have had this little chat, it en 
 livens this dull sentry duty ; but I won't keep you 
 from the ladies." 
 
 " That 's kind of you, Pen ; we '11 say a good word 
 for you and tell them what a fine soldier you 're 
 making." And the two young men walked off in 
 the direction of a group that had gathered in front 
 of the doctor's tent. 
 
 Young Pendleton was left to his duty and his 
 cigar. " It 's a confounded bore, but I suppose 
 it 's one of the necessities of war," he said, with a 
 sigh of resignation, as he solaced himself with the 
 fragrant Havana. Suddenly he threw the cigar 
 away and lifted his hat with a great show of 
 courtliness. 
 
 " Miss Bowie," he exclaimed, " this is indeed a 
 most delightful surprise ! " 
 
 " Why, Mr. Pendleton, I am the one to be sur 
 prised. As I came along I saw a grand looking 
 soldier standing here. I had no idea he was going 
 to turn out to be an old friend and you are a 
 friend in need, too ; " and she smiled at him be- 
 witchingly from under a dainty parasol. 
 
 She wore a pretty summer gown of figured
 
 40 THE CLAYBORNES 
 
 muslin with a bit of cherry-colored ribbon at her 
 throat. Her bonnet, a coquettish creation of the 
 prevailing mode, had a dash of the same color 
 in it. 
 
 " I shall be only too happy to render you any 
 service in my power, Miss Bowie," replied Pen- 
 dleton. 
 
 " Then tell me where are Colonel Clayborne's 
 headquarters." 
 
 " These are his headquarters, Miss Bowie." 
 
 "Oh, are they? How very nice and comfort 
 able ; and how very swell you all are. I don't 
 wonder the girls have all been wild to come out 
 here, Mr. Pendleton,' or should I say Captain 
 Pendleton ? Perhaps Major I don't know your 
 rank." 
 
 " I 'm not an officer, Miss Bowie not yet. 
 I 'm only a trooper." 
 
 " Oh, a trooper, Mr. Pendleton. A dashing 
 cavalier with a sword at his side, a jingling pair 
 of spurs, long mustachios, and above all a heart 
 for the ladies. How glorious to be a trooper ! I 
 should love to be a trooper. But where are your 
 mustachios, Mr. Pendleton ? " 
 
 " What I lack in mustache I make up in heart, 
 as you know full well ; but I fear you could never 
 be a trooper, my dear Miss Regina, if it requires 
 a heart to be such." 
 
 " What you lack in mustache you make up in 
 impudence, you mean to say, Mr. Pendleton, if you 
 accuse me of knowing anything about your heart."
 
 THE CLAYBORNE HORSE 41 
 
 " You should know, for it is in your keeping." 
 
 " In my keeping since when, pray ? " 
 
 " Since the very first moment I looked into your 
 pretty eyes, Miss Bowie." 
 
 " Oh Lord, Mr. Pendleton, then it is such a 
 small one that I must have mislaid it. I will look 
 among my effects, and if I find the poor thing I 
 will return it to you at once." 
 
 " You will probably find it, along with a dozen 
 or two others, put away upon a shelf." 
 
 " It will be dreadfully dusty then, for I assure 
 you I know nothing about the hearts of you men, 
 never having seen them. And now will you be so 
 very obliging as to show me into Colonel Clay- 
 borne's office ? " 
 
 " I am sorry I cannot do that, as I have been 
 instructed to allow no one to pass." 
 
 " Oh, I pray just let me pass." 
 
 " It is impossible for two reasons. First, I must 
 not disobey orders ; second, I could not reconcile 
 myself to losing your charming society." 
 
 " Thank you for the compliment, Mr. Pendle 
 ton," she replied with a graceful curtsy ; " but I 
 should appreciate it more if you would only be 
 agreeable and let me enter this mysterious sanctum 
 which you are guarding so jealously." 
 
 " Impossible." 
 
 ''-Please let me go by," she pleaded in her 
 most persuasive tone. 
 
 " I really can't unless you give the countersign," 
 he replied, putting his sabre across the gateway 
 and smiling in a tantalizing manner.
 
 42 THE CLAYBORNES 
 
 " Perhaps you think I don't know the counter 
 sign," she said archly. 
 
 " I am positive you do not ; " " because," he 
 added to himself, " there is n't any." 
 
 Well, I do know it." 
 
 "What is it?" 
 
 " It was given to me in confidence ; do you 
 think I would betray it ? " 
 
 " I think you would, in order to get in here." 
 
 " Oh, fie, Mr. Pendleton. Now, I '11 never tell 
 you unless I whisper it very softly." 
 
 " I 'm all attention." 
 
 " If it 's the right one, will you promise to let 
 me go by ? " 
 
 " Certainly." 
 
 " Well, come here and bend your head down, 
 you stiff-necked grenadier." 
 
 " Now " when her lips were close to his ear 
 she drew back suddenly and gave it a sharp tap 
 with her gloved hand, while with a merry laugh 
 she slipped by him and up the steps " you 're a 
 fine soldier not to be able to keep a girl out," she 
 cried gayly. " Never mind, don't disturb yourself, 
 I can find the colonel, and above all don't forget 
 the countersign ; " and with a sprightly wave of 
 the hand she disappeared into the house, closing 
 the door quickly. 
 
 From a room at the farther end of the hall 
 Colonel Clayborne heard the front door slam. 
 " What is that ? " he exclaimed in a tone of annoy 
 ance, rising from his chair. " I left particular
 
 THE CLAYBORNE HORSE 43 
 
 word that we were to be disturbed on no account. 
 My men are splendid fellows, General, but they 
 are frightfully disobedient. It is about time to 
 make an example of some one." 
 
 A light step was heard in the hallway, and Miss 
 Regina Bowie stood demurely on the threshold. 
 
 " I beg your pardon, Colonel Clay borne," she 
 said sweetly. " I know this is wholly unmilitary. 
 What do you do to intruders like me ? " 
 
 " Miss Bowie can never intrude where she is 
 always welcome," said the colonel politely, bend 
 ing over her hand. " Allow me to present General 
 Beauregard. Miss Bowie is the daughter of my 
 old friend, General Bowie." 
 
 " I am Mghly honored in making the acquaint 
 ance of so charming a daughter of so gallant a 
 soldier," said General Beauregard, bowing with 
 effusion. 
 
 " The ladies," said the colonel, " have vied with 
 the men in their patriotism ; and now that we are 
 about to take the field, they grace our camp daily, 
 stimulating the soldiers by their beauty and their 
 enthusiasm." 
 
 " Gad, Colonel, if there are many like Miss 
 Bowie I advise you to get your men into the field 
 at once, or you will have your hospitals full of those 
 who have fallen under the batteries of these bright 
 eyes." 
 
 " Oh, please, General Beauregard, you flatter 
 us. I am afraid the men are far too much taken 
 up with their new uniforms and in studying the
 
 44 THE CLAYBORNES 
 
 art of war to bestow many looks upon us poor girls. 
 Woman can play but a minor part in time of war, 
 General ; but such as it is, she should do her part 
 uncomplainingly and earnestly." She had begun 
 the sentence in a merry mood, but the last words 
 were spoken with deep seriousness. 
 
 " Miss Bowie is a host in herself, I assure you, 
 General," said the colonel. 
 
 General Beauregard looked at her admiringly. 
 " I could swear to that," he replied. 
 
 " I am so anxious to be of some service," the 
 young woman said with intensity. " I know I can 
 do something ; that is why I came to ask the favor 
 of a very short interview with you, General Beaure 
 gard. You will grant it, won't you ? It is of so 
 much importance, and I am so lucky in finding 
 you here ; and you, Colonel, and you, Major Col 
 bert, will pardon me, I am sure, for interrupting 
 you in this rude manner." She turned from one 
 to the other with a radiant smile. 
 
 " Certainly, certainly," exclaimed all the war 
 riors, speaking at once. 
 
 " Will you be so good as to step in here, Miss 
 Bowie ? " and the general led the way into an 
 adjoining room. " In what way can I be of ser 
 vice to you, my dear young lady?" he asked, 
 placing a chair for her. 
 
 Miss Bowie did not speak at once, but looked 
 carefully into the general's face as he sat opposite 
 her in an attitude of attention. 
 
 There was an expression of seriousness in her
 
 THE CLAYBORNE HORSE 46 
 
 wondrous eyes, and she hesitated to begin a sub 
 ject which she was nevertheless determined to 
 approach. 
 
 " What I am about to say," she finally began, 
 "is of so delicate a nature, of so confidential a 
 nature, that I must ask you to keep it a deep 
 secret." 
 
 " Madam," replied the general, placing his hand 
 upon his heart, " you may rest assured that any 
 confidence from a lady is a sacred trust." 
 
 " What I am about to suggest, for it is a sug 
 gestion as well as an entreaty, may seem to you 
 difficult to accomplish. It will certainly surprise 
 you, but I hope you will hear all I have to say 
 before you pass judgment upon it." 
 
 " I will listen willingly to everything you have 
 to say." 
 
 She leaned her head slightly towards him, and 
 began speaking in a low tone of voice, the color 
 coming to her cheek, the fire flashing in her eyes 
 as she progressed. Yet she never raised her voice, 
 but went on speaking rapidly, clearly, convin 
 cingly. 
 
 General Beauregard looked at her with surprise 
 and wonder, which increased as she continued. 
 Once or twice he essayed to speak, but she im 
 posed silence by lifting her hand. When she had 
 finished and sat with her serious eyes looking ear 
 nestly into his face, awaiting his reply, he arose 
 and took both of her hands in his own. " Miss 
 Bowie, I honor you. You are a credit to your sex.
 
 46 THE CLAYBORNES 
 
 You are an honor to the South. I am proud to 
 have this privilege, madam," and he saluted her 
 hand in courtly manner. 
 
 " And your answer, General ? " she asked, with 
 just the slightest tremor of excitement in her quiet 
 voice. 
 
 " Miss Bowie," he replied, walking up and down 
 the room with a quick, energetic stride, " this is a 
 matter which requires the greatest amount of dis 
 cussion and planning. Can you not come to my 
 headquarters ? " 
 
 " I shall be only too happy to come, but it is so 
 difficult to get access to you military commanders 
 one has to pass so many sentries, and storm so 
 many redoubts," she replied, laughing. 
 
 " Never fear, you will find no difficulty of access. 
 Shall I expect you say day after to-morrow ? " 
 
 "I shall certainly be there, and I thank you, 
 General Beauregard, from the bottom of my heart 
 for the generous way in which you have met my 
 request. I was so afraid you would dismiss it 
 lightly with a laugh." 
 
 "You presented the matter in too earnest a 
 manner to permit it to be lightly treated, even if 
 it should not have met with my approval," replied 
 the general, as they rejoined the other officers. 
 
 " Nevertheless, I quaked inwardly," Regina an 
 swered, " and I thank you a thousand times. And 
 I thank you also, most warmly, Colonel Clayborne, 
 for not turning me out when I descended upon you 
 so unexpectedly. You must consider a persistent
 
 THE CLAYBORNE HORSE 47 
 
 female like me a great nuisance sometimes. Now 
 don't you, Colonel?" she asked, with a merry 
 laugh. 
 
 " Never, Miss Bowie. You enthusiastic women 
 are never in the way ; you are an inspiration and 
 a sustaining influence. We are going to have a 
 battalion drill this afternoon, for General Beaure- 
 gard's benefit. Won't you stay and witness it? " 
 
 " Oh, I shall be delighted to stay, and I want 
 to see Clifford. Where is he ? " 
 
 " Oh, Clifford 's a mighty soldier now. We 
 shall doubtless find him deep in some book of army 
 tactics. Come, and I will show you through the 
 camp." 
 
 Regina Bowie bowed sweetly to young Pendle- 
 ton as she walked away between General Beau- 
 regard and Colonel Clay borne. Her heart beat 
 high with the elation of success. She was to 
 have another interview with General Beauregard, 
 and she felt confident that her cherished plan, her 
 daring and elaborate scheme, was now assured of 
 meeting with his final approval. 
 
 The battalion drill went off with eclat. Regina 
 Bowie was radiant with enthusiasm. General 
 Beauregard was greatly pleased. " All your men 
 need now, Colonel, is a little of the hardship of 
 war to make real soldiers of them." 
 
 A few days later the camp was thrown into a 
 fever of excitement. Word had been received that 
 the troop was to proceed towards the front. 
 
 Towards the front they went, although not into
 
 48 THE CLAYBORNES 
 
 immediate battle, as young Pendleton predicted 
 and Clifford Clayborne hoped. There followed 
 weeks of marching and bivouac ; there were scout 
 ing and reconnoissance. Colonel Clayborne knew 
 his men and knew what he could get out of them. 
 By degrees, through force of example and through 
 mutual affection, he established a dominion over 
 them of which they themselves were hardly aware. 
 He led them into dangers which he shared with 
 them. He made them do picket duty until they 
 grumbled and swore, and he cheerfully doubled 
 their work. 
 
 Soon they joined a larger force of men, and 
 this force in turn welded into another brigade, 
 until they found themselves part of Beauregard's 
 army. Rumors of approaching battle began to fly, 
 at first vague and conflicting, changing from day 
 to day. " They were to capture Washington ! " 
 " They were to intrench to repel an invading 
 horde of one hundred thousand ! " Still they went 
 forward. That suited "Clayborne's troopers." 
 Intrenching was not to their taste. What they 
 wanted was a fair fight and no favors. They had 
 had three months of the camp, the drill, and the 
 march, and they had not yet met the enemy. 
 They had begun to doubt his existence. " This is 
 not war," said young Pendleton contemptuously ; 
 "this is merely a triumphal progress. I don't 
 believe there 's a man to oppose us between here 
 and the Yankee capital ! " 
 
 At last, when Pendleton's impatience was at
 
 THE CLAYBORNE HORSE 49 
 
 fever heat and when Clifford Clayborne had begun 
 to despair of ever winning his spurs, it came. 
 
 One morning at daybreak, the troopers found 
 themselves drawn up on the edge of a wood behind 
 the crest of a low hill, the booming of cannon and 
 the rattle of musketry sounding in their ears. On 
 their left lay a long gray line of reserves, half 
 hidden among the trees. Horses pranced with ex 
 citement, their riders' eyes shone with eagerness. 
 Colonel Clayborne sat motionless upon his horse, 
 coolly surveying his troopers. A shell came 
 screaming over their heads to explode among the 
 trees in the rear. Still the colonel gave no word 
 of command. There was a subdued murmur among 
 his men. Young Pendleton rode his spirited 
 charger out of the ranks, and, saluting his colonel, 
 called out in a loud voice that was heard by the 
 entire regiment : " For the Lord's sake, Colonel 
 Clayborne, are n't you going to give the word to 
 charge ? " 
 
 " Get back into the ranks ! " thundered the 
 colonel, turning upon him in fury. 
 
 " But, Colonel," reasoned Pendleton, almost in 
 tears, " we came out to fight, and we 're missing all 
 the fun." 
 
 " I '11 give you all the fun you want, if you don't 
 obey my orders," answered the colonel, drawing a 
 revolver from his belt. " Get back to your place, 
 or I '11 shoot you down ! " 
 
 Pendleton bowed haughtily and rode slowly 
 back. " It 's damn discourteous of the colonel,"
 
 50 THE CLAYBORNES 
 
 he muttered to Clifford, as he resumed his place in 
 the ranks. 
 
 " The old man knows what he is about," replied 
 Clifford, in duty bound to support his father's 
 judgment; "but I wish he would give us the 
 word," he could not help adding. 
 
 An orderly rode up to Colonel Clayborne. The 
 latter's whole demeanor changed. A few quick 
 words of command and the troop was in motion, 
 their commander, not one whit less impatient than 
 his men, in the lead. Over the crest of the hill 
 they swept, and in the valley at their feet the bat 
 tle was in full view. 
 
 Down the slope they thundered, their faces set 
 sternly, and their eyes fixed straight before them. 
 Intoxicated with excitement, rendered wild with a 
 new-born frenzy to kill, they rode like the tempest 
 down upon their foe. 
 
 Another shell whistled over their heads. " Hur 
 rah ! " cried Clifford Clayborne. " This is war ! " 
 
 " They are shooting too high," called out Pen- 
 dleton gayly, at his side. 
 
 A blinding flash, a roar like an earthquake, and 
 Clifford gasped for breath. " That shell struck ! " 
 yelled the voice of a corporal in his ear. 
 
 Uninjured, Clifford looked about him. Young 
 Pendleton's riderless horse was running at his side. 
 Clifford set his teeth, and with the Clayborne troop 
 ' rushed forward to win his spurs.
 
 CHAPTER IV 
 REGINA'S TOAST 
 
 THIS is not to be a chronicle of battles. He 
 who wishes for graphic details of the great combats 
 must turn to the pages of history. 
 
 There he can read of each encounter in the ter 
 rible struggle. He can follow the fortunes of noble 
 armies sent forth to melt away in the devouring 
 flame of conflict. There he can see the blood- 
 drenched fields, hear the cries of the wounded, the 
 groans of the dying, and count the thousands upon 
 thousands of those who fall from the ranks of the 
 strongest, the bravest, and finest of the land, until 
 his heart grows sick and his brain wearies. 
 
 A year had passed since the Northern troops 
 had fled from the field at Manassas. The men 
 who had been through the Peninsular campaign 
 and those who had fought the desperate battle of 
 Shiloh no longer spoke of crushing the rebellion 
 in sixty days. 
 
 Southerners who had tasted the mettle of the 
 "Armies of the West," and who had seen the 
 Yankees before the breastworks at Donelson, no 
 longer called those Yankees " white-livered." 
 
 Both North and South had come to realize that 
 the great conflict had only just begun.
 
 52 THE CLAYBORNES 
 
 The North, with half a million men in the field, 
 was preparing to " fight it out." The South, de 
 fiant and determined, was entering into an unequal 
 and hopeless contest with that magnificent courage 
 which was to compel the admiration of the world. 
 
 Gordon Clayborne had made the choice between 
 his native State and his country. The struggle 
 had cost him dear, but having decided for the 
 Union he fought for it with all the strength of 
 his nature. The summer of '62 found Clayborne 
 with Grant's army in the Mississippi Valley, 
 where he commanded a company in a cavalry 
 regiment. 
 
 No matter what the final outcome of the war, 
 Gordon felt that he must be separated from his 
 kindred for all time. During the months that had 
 passed, some stray news of them had reached him 
 from time to time. His father was colonel of a 
 t'roop of Virginia Light Horse. Clifford was now 
 a captain, and two cousins of the family were lieu 
 tenants. " Shoulder to shoulder the Claybornes 
 fight " had been the watchword of the old colonel, 
 and they had fought thus. Gordon heard of the 
 " Clayborne Horse " at the battle of Manassas ; 
 how the colonel was twice wounded and how the 
 impetuous Clifford had dashed alone into the Union 
 lines, then finding himself in this dire peril, had 
 wheeled his horse suddenly, cutting a wide circle, 
 and had come safely off, while friend and foe 
 cheered him for his daring. 
 
 Gordon's face was sad as he thought of his
 
 REGINA'S TOAST 53 
 
 father's wounds, and his heart grew warm at his 
 brother's reckless courage. " Blood is thicker than 
 water " is an old saw, but it runs true. Gordon 
 smiled as he thought of Clifford on his black 
 horse ; and his father did he still ride his gray 
 charger ? How familiar the picture was : the large 
 gray horse upon whose back Gordon himself had 
 ridden not many months before. Not many months ? 
 The time could not be reckoned by months nor 
 years. It belonged to a past age, a life that had 
 no existence now, except in memory. Surely it is 
 not unmanly for the moisture to come to Captain 
 Gordon Clayborne's eyes. He brushes it away 
 quickly and turns to the duty at hand ; for Clay- 
 borne is to report with his company at headquarters 
 within an hour. 
 
 It is a bright June morning. Three men are 
 sitting in front of the general headquarters at 
 Corinth. Two of them wear the stars of a major- 
 general upon their shoulder straps the third is a 
 staff officer. One of the general officers is tall and 
 slender, with a light, sandy beard. His eyes have 
 a brilliant, excitable expression, and he smokes in 
 quick, nervous puffs. The other is short in stature, 
 with closely trimmed beard about his strong, deter 
 mined-looking chin. There are lines of care on 
 his forehead and signs of worry in his steel blue 
 eyes, yet he smokes serenely. He is dressed 
 simply, almost meanly ; with a coat of plain blue 
 cloth such as a private soldier might wear. His
 
 54 THE CLAYBORNES 
 
 felt hat is tossed carelessly on the grass at his 
 side. 
 
 Each of these three officers is sitting in that 
 pleasant and restful position which a chair bal 
 anced upon two legs affords ; and as they smoke 
 their cigars they converse in a quiet tone. 
 
 " Sherman, my position here is becoming in 
 tolerable. I have petitioned the government at 
 Washington to relieve me from duty under Hal- 
 leek. I am going to insist that they assign me 
 to another department." 
 
 " Grant, let me urge you most strongly not to 
 take this step," replied Sherman quickly. 
 
 " I have taken it, " rejoined General Grant 
 quietly. 
 
 "You are making a serious mistake. As a 
 friend, I assure you that you are about to injure 
 yourself." 
 
 " I cannot help that. It is impossible for me 
 to work without the confidence of my chief. Gen 
 eral Halleck does not trust me. He hampers me 
 in my work. He countermands my orders I am 
 practically relieved from command here. I might 
 as well go elsewhere." 
 
 " My dear Grant," exclaimed General Sherman, 
 laying his hand upon the other's arm, "you have 
 the confidence of the nation. You, who have been 
 so patient for so long, can surely wait a little 
 longer." 
 
 " I am afraid that the nation is becoming impa 
 tient. I try not to hear all the stories that are
 
 REGINA'S TOAST 55 
 
 going the rounds ; yet some of them will come to 
 my ears and they cut deeply, Sherman." 
 
 " Was I not called everything under the sun 
 from a traitor to a lunatic, for more than a year ? " 
 cried Sherman. " It was not until after Pittsburg 
 Landing that I was treated even with decency, to 
 say nothing of justice. If I bore that in silence, 
 you can afford to ignore these petty calumnies ; 
 and you certainly ought to ignore them and remain 
 with the army which trusts you and still looks to 
 you to lead it to success." 
 
 Grant did not speak for several moments, then 
 knocking off the ashes from his cigar, he replied 
 slowly : 
 
 "Perhaps you are right. I may have been 
 hasty. I will withdraw my application." 
 
 "I am glad to hear you say that," was the 
 hearty reply. 
 
 " Thank you, Sherman ; I feel I can always get 
 the soundest and most generous advice from you. 
 I will withdraw my application, but I shall change 
 my headquarters to Memphis for the present. I 
 have already obtained Halleck's permission to do 
 this." 
 
 " When are you going to make this change?" 
 
 " Right away. In an hour I shall be all ready 
 to move, and I wish you would ride back with me. 
 I want to talk to you." 
 
 " Very well. I '11 give a few orders to my 
 chief of staff and rejoin you within an hour, Gen 
 eral Grant," said Sherman, as he withdrew.
 
 56 THE CLAYBORNES 
 
 Grant nodded from behind his cigar. 
 
 As Sherman walked briskly away a civilian 
 passed him with a cheerful salutation. This man 
 came up to headquarters with the easy grace of 
 one who feels quite at home wherever he may find 
 himself. Benjamin Chesterfield was the corre 
 spondent of a St. Louis newspaper. He possessed 
 the rare tact and judgment to send no news to his 
 paper that would aid or instruct the enemy, there 
 fore he found access to military circles which were 
 sometimes barred to journalists of less discretion. 
 
 " Mr. Chesterfield," said Grant, as the former 
 dropped into a chair, " I 'm going to change my 
 headquarters to Memphis. Do you care to go 
 with us?" 
 
 " Thank you, General, I will go with pleasure." 
 
 " I can't promise that you will find life there 
 more exciting than here, but we shall be glad of 
 your company." 
 
 " Much obliged. I '11 see about getting my 
 things together." 
 
 " All right. See Bowers there about your ac 
 commodations, he will look out for you ; " and 
 General Grant lit a fresh cigar and lapsed into 
 silence. The pleasant smile that had shone in his 
 eyes as he spoke died quite away and a look of 
 serious reflection took its place there. Thus he 
 sat for nearly an hour, apparently oblivious to what 
 was going on about him, quietly smoking and 
 thinking. 
 
 It was a simple matter to obtain an interview
 
 REGINA'S TOAST 57 
 
 with General Grant. He surrounded himself with 
 few barriers in the way of sentries or body-guards. 
 At almost any time, a person wishing to see him 
 upon business had only to approach him to be re 
 ceived affably. So it was not strange that a man 
 dressed in prosperous looking broadcloth, well-fed, 
 with a large expanse of vest and a heavy gold 
 chain across it, should walk boldly up to where 
 the general sat deep in thought. 
 
 " I should like to see General Grant, please," 
 he said briskly. 
 
 " I am General Grant," was the quiet reply. 
 
 " Oh ! " ejaculated the newcomer, looking at 
 the general with curiosity and ill-concealed sur 
 prise. Then recovering himself quickly, "I am 
 Mr. Thomas Bulger of New York. I have a let 
 ter of introduction to you, General," putting his 
 hand into his pocket and drawing forth a number 
 of papers. " Ah, here it is." 
 
 General Grant took the^ letter and read it. 
 
 " A pretty strong recommendation, as you see, 
 General," the other went on pompously. " It is 
 signed by three senators and five representatives." 
 
 " What do you want me to do for you, Mr. 
 Bulger ? " 
 
 " Well, sir, I represent a New York syndicate : 
 men of means, you understand, General ; and 
 although they are keen men of business, they are 
 liberal, open-minded gentlemen. They have placed 
 a large sum of money in my hands, having great 
 confidence in my business ability "
 
 58 THE CLAYBORNES 
 
 " Well, what do you want me to do ? " interrupted 
 General Grant, with a slight note of impatience in 
 his voice. 
 
 " In short, General, the syndicate thought if 
 you would give me a permit to buy cotton from 
 the Southerners one which would allow me to 
 go and come through your lines with some free 
 dom "- 
 
 Grant thrust the letter of introduction back 
 into the man's hand. 
 
 " You take this letter, Mr. Bulger, and go ! " he 
 said sternly. 
 
 " What ! " ejaculated Mr. Bulger in astonish 
 ment. 
 
 " I have nothing further to say to you." 
 
 " Won't you listen to what I have to propose," 
 cried Bulger. " Why, do you know, General 
 Grant, that cotton is one dollar a pound in New 
 York ? One dollar a pound, sir ! .Just think of 
 that ! " The speculators eyes glistened greedily. 
 
 Grant looked at him with disgust. 
 
 " Now, General," the man went on insinuatingly, 
 " 1 stand prepared to offer you twenty-five thou 
 sand dollars ' freight rate ' just to load one of your 
 empty supply trains with cotton and run it up to 
 the Mississippi River. Now, General, these cars 
 are going back empty ; what harm " 
 
 " Leave these headquarters instantly ! " inter 
 rupted the general sharply. 
 
 Mr. Bulger's face turned purple. He thrust 
 the letter back into his breast pocket.
 
 REGINA'S TOAST 59 
 
 " Well, General Grant," he said in a voice 
 trembling with rage, " permit me to remark that 
 you show scant courtesy to the gentlemen who in 
 troduce me." 
 
 Grant rose from his seat. " If I find you any 
 where about the army after to-day, Mr. Bulger," 
 he said quietly, " I '11 have you arrested. Men 
 like you," he continued with withering scorn, " do 
 more to corrupt the army than any other class. 
 You traders care more for a bale of cotton than 
 you do for the whole nation. Any man who pre 
 sents such a petition to me in future will be 
 clapped into jail ; no matter if he comes down here 
 with the indorsement of every member of both 
 houses of Congress. Now I think I've made it 
 clear to you how I view this trading with the 
 enemy. You can circulate my views pretty freely 
 among your fraternity. Good-day, sir." 
 
 Mr. Bulger beat a hurried retreat, muttering 
 as he went, " I '11 tell everybody in Washington 
 that I found General Grant utterly incompetent 
 through the use of liquor." 
 
 " You rather knocked him over, General," said 
 Bowers, with a laugh. 
 
 " Perhaps I was a little severe, Bowers. There 
 are a few things that make me mad, and that 's 
 one of them. The men who are doing the fighting 
 don't like to be asked to protect a trade which 
 helps support their enemies, and the profits of 
 which go to the men who save their skins at home. 
 If the Treasury Department sees fit to give these
 
 60 THE CLAYBORNES 
 
 permits, I suppose I can't stop them, but if any 
 fellow comes to me with such a request he '11 find 
 out that he 's barking up the wrong tree." The 
 general's mild eye kindled and he chewed his 
 cigar ; then rising from his chair, he said : 
 
 " Here 's Sherman ; he is always on time to the 
 minute. Now if the escort is ready, Bowers, and 
 Rawlins and the rest of the boys are on hand, 
 we '11 start." 
 
 " The escort is waiting at the rear of the house, 
 sir, and here are Rawlins and the others." 
 
 General Grant sprang upon the back of his fa 
 vorite cream-colored horse, leaning forward for a 
 moment to stroke the animal's neck affectionately. 
 " What men are those, Rawlins," he asked, as they 
 trotted out of the gate. 
 
 "Company D, 1st Regiment of Cavalry, General 
 Thomas's division. It is the crack company of the 
 regiment ; fine-looking men, don't you think so, 
 General?" 
 
 " Yes, and they are splendidly mounted ; but 
 tell the captain to send half his men back to their 
 quarters. We do not need so many to escort us 
 to Memphis." 
 
 " General Grant, I don't think it safe. I think 
 you ought to have twice as many, rather than 
 fewer men for a ride of ninety miles." 
 
 " Oh, I guess it 's safe enough. We have the 
 country pretty well cleared, and I hardly think 
 there are rebels in any force between here and 
 Memphis."
 
 EEGINA'S TOAST 61 
 
 " I don't think a general officer ought to run 
 the risk of getting captured," remarked Rawlins. 
 
 " Have it as you wish, Rawlins, but there is 
 not mucH risk. Besides, if I were to be captured, 
 Halleck could easily make another general," he 
 added, with a quiet laugh. 
 
 The cavalcade traveled for several hours stead 
 ily. Grant rode with Rawlins on one side and 
 General Sherman on the other. Behind them 
 came Bowers and the other members of the staff ; 
 with them was the correspondent Chesterfield. 
 His laugh was contagious, and between him and 
 Bowers, with his flow of spirits, the party was kept 
 in a continual state of jollity. Bringing up the 
 rear was Captain Clayborne with a company of the 
 best mounted men of the regiment. 
 
 General Grant rode for the most part in silence, 
 only occasionally asking a question of Sherman, 
 or speaking to the dark-haired Rawlins in a tone 
 of familiarity. But if he talked little, he was a 
 good listener, and frequently by a nod or a ges 
 ture showed his approval of some remark made by 
 the brilliant Sherman. 
 
 It was past the noon hour when, dusty from 
 their long ride and parched with thirst, they drew 
 up in the shade of some trees before a large hos 
 pitable-looking house with cool, inviting veranda. 
 
 " This looks like a good place," said General 
 Grant. " What do you think, Sherman ; can we 
 do better than this ? " 
 
 " I think we should be justified in trespassing to
 
 62 THE CLAYBORNES 
 
 the extent of taking a rest on this front porch, 
 and having some refreshment," laughed Sherman, 
 " though I doubt if we shall be very welcome." 
 
 "Let the men dismount and take their rations 
 under these trees, Rawlins, and tell their com 
 mander I shall hold him responsible for any depre 
 dations, no matter how slight." 
 
 The generals with their staff officers stepped on 
 to the piazza. A white-bearded, patriarchal gen 
 tleman stood in the doorway. Rawlins addressed 
 him politely : 
 
 " Sir, we are going to take the liberty of refresh 
 ing ourselves in your house ; but you need have 
 no apprehension about the safety of your property. 
 Nothing will be disturbed." 
 
 The old gentleman came forward slowly. 
 
 " Whom have I the honor of entertaining ? " 
 he asked with quiet dignity. 
 
 " Generals Grant, Sherman, and staff." 
 
 " General Grant, I must inform you that I owe 
 allegiance to the Southern Confederacy. I am a 
 non-combatant because I am too old to bear arms. 
 I have two sons in the service, fighting the enemies 
 of our country. I have no reason to love the uni 
 form you wear, but sirs, Henry Robertson can re 
 fuse no man hospitality under his roof as long as 
 it is left to him ; such as I have I will offer you 
 freely." 
 
 There was a quaint stateliness in his manner 
 and a simple dignity in his speech which inspired 
 courtesy.
 
 REGINA'S TOAST 63 
 
 General Grant took the old gentleman by the 
 hand, saying in his clear voice : " Mr. Robertson, 
 I respect the frank avowal of your opinions. We 
 shall try not to inconvenience you more than is 
 absolutely necessary." 
 
 The party sat down in the shade of the veranda. 
 The venerable Mr. Robertson dispatched one ser 
 vant to order a luncheon to be prepared, while a 
 grinning colored boy brought forth a tray of cool 
 ing drinks, and dispensed them among the thirsty 
 officers. 
 
 "I am afraid, gentlemen, that the repast I can 
 offer you will be somewhat meagre," said Mr. 
 Robertson in a serious tone. " Last week a party 
 of marauding soldiers from the camp at Memphis 
 descended upon my hen-house, and despoiled me 
 of the major part of my stock." 
 
 " Sherman, those were some of your ' vandals,' " 
 laughed Grant. " Mr. Robertson, make out an 
 inventory of the loss, and give it to General Sher 
 man. I will see that he repays you." 
 
 " Very good, sir, I will do so," replied the old 
 gentleman, bowing gravely. 
 
 Grant, who was sitting on the edge of the piazza 
 with his back against one of its pillars, took a pad 
 from his pocket, and wrote a few lines, signing 
 them with his name. This paper he handed to 
 Mr. Robertson, and looked at Sherman with a 
 twinkle in his eye, as he said : " If any more of 
 ' the enemy ' come this way to annoy you, show 
 them that, Mr. Robertson. It will protect your 
 property."
 
 64 THE CLAYBORNES 
 
 " I thank you, sir," replied the septuagenarian, 
 putting the paper carefully away. Then, rising 
 from his chair : " Will you do me the honor of com 
 ing into the dining-room, as luncheon is about to 
 be served ? " 
 
 With all the bearing of an old nobleman Mr. 
 Robertson conducted his guests to the dining-room. 
 Two young ladies were standing by the window ; 
 they appeared undecided whether to run away in 
 fear at the approach of the party of gentlemen or 
 to stay and satisfy the curiosity which was consum 
 ing them. The latter motive proved the stronger, 
 and they remained. 
 
 A slight shade of annoyance passed over the 
 face of Mr. Robertson, and there was a note of 
 surprise in his voice, as he said : "I did not anti 
 cipate, my dear young ladies, that you would give 
 us the honor of your presence." Then, turning to 
 the Federal officers, he went through the ceremony 
 of introduction in his most polished and courteous 
 manner. 
 
 One of the young women, Mr. Robertson's 
 daughter, the child of his old age, a slender girl 
 of eighteen, hardly looked at the gentlemen, but 
 seemed more than half inclined to regret her temer 
 ity and to abandon the field with her curiosity only 
 half satisfied. But the other, who had been pre 
 sented as Miss Bowie from Virginia and a visitor 
 in the Robertson mansion, held her ground bravely. 
 She seemed to enjoy the situation, and by her own 
 self-possession somewhat reassured her more timid 
 companion.
 
 REGINA'S TOAST 65 
 
 " Knowing that some Federal officers had hon 
 ored us by staying to luncheon, Dora and I did 
 not at first intend to come down," said the elder 
 one, with a curl of the lip, " but we were dying 
 with curiosity to see General Sherman's horns." 
 
 " I do not quite understand you," said Mr. 
 Robertson. 
 
 " Why, we have always been told that General 
 Sherman had horns," replied Miss Bowie naively, 
 " and that General Grant was a bloodthirsty 
 monster." 
 
 " My dear Regina, remember that these gentle 
 men, although enemies, are guests under my roof, 
 and therefore are entitled to our respectful con 
 sideration," said Mr. Robertson in a tone of mild 
 reproval. 
 
 " I assure you, Mr. Robertson, I have always 
 been told just what I have said about the Yankee 
 generals. And you, yourself, said only yesterday 
 that you hoped General Bragg would soon put a 
 quietus on those two Yankee commanders, Grant 
 and Sherman." 
 
 " I do trust sincerely that our arms will be vic 
 torious, and that when Bragg meets our enemies on 
 the field of battle, the right will triumph ; but we 
 must not forget our duty to those who come to us 
 with the sword sheathed to crave our hospitality." 
 
 " We Northerners are not the bloodthirsty mon 
 sters Miss Bowie has pictured us," laughed Sher 
 man. " We will try to convince her of our ami 
 ability if she will honor us by remaining."
 
 66 THE CLAYBORNES ' 
 
 " Dora and I will stay, General Sherman, 
 although I am sorry that you have no horns, be 
 cause I would have you look just as bad as I think 
 you are," and her eyes flashed defiantly at him. 
 
 " And I would have you think just as well of 
 me as you can," retorted Sherman facetiously. 
 
 " Then drink this toast," she exclaimed, raising 
 a glass of wine, " ' To the heroes of the South : 
 may victory be theirs ! ' Drink that toast, and I '11 
 think a heap better of you." 
 
 " I will substitute another for that : ' To the 
 fair women of the South,' " rejoined Sherman gal 
 lantly. 
 
 "No," declared Regina emphatically, "you 
 must drink to the brave men first." 
 
 " If I do, will you drink to the health of the 
 Northern armies ? " continued Sherman in a tone 
 of banter. 
 
 " I '11 make no bargains with you. Are you 
 afraid to drink ? I would not have it said that I 
 refused to drink a toast to brave men." 
 
 " How will this toast do, Miss Bowie ? ' To 
 the brave men of both armies ? ' " asked General 
 Sherman, raising his glass. 
 
 She hesitated a moment with a pout upon her 
 pretty lips. Then her face cleared as she replied 
 smilingly : " Very well, General Sherman, as we 
 have more brave men on our side I can consider it 
 as honoring us the most." 
 
 Sherman laughed heartily. " Construe it any 
 way you have a mind to."
 
 REGINA'S TOAST 67 
 
 " Gentlemen, General Sherman has proposed a 
 toast," called Regina Bowie, looking about the 
 board with her fearless eyes. " General Grant, 
 some wine ? " 
 
 " No, thank you, Miss Bowie." 
 
 " What, you won't even drink that toast," ex 
 claimed Miss Regina reproachfully. " But perhaps 
 you don't care for this wine. Let me fill your 
 glass with some of this Kentucky Bourbon. Surely, 
 General Grant, you can't refuse to drink a toast 
 proposed by one of your own party," she said 
 artlessly. 
 
 Rawlins began to move uneasily in his chair, 
 and darted an angry look at the ingenuous young 
 woman. 
 
 " There, General Grant," continued Miss Bowie, 
 filling his glass to the brim with some old Ken 
 tucky whiskey. " I might have known that such 
 a fire-eater as you would abjure weak claret. This 
 is more suitable for warriors." 
 
 With a sudden movement of his elbow Grant's 
 chief of staff sent the glass of whiskey spinning 
 to the floor. Miss Bowie gave a cry of dismay. 
 
 " I beg pardon for my clumsiness," said Raw- 
 lius. " I hope your dress is not injured." 
 
 " It is of no account if it is spoiled," she re 
 plied, " but you 've spoiled a good glass of whiskey, 
 General Rawlins," and she looked into his face 
 saucily, while his dark eyes snapped back at her. 
 The imperturbable Grant took no notice of the 
 incident. " This will suit the matter in hand,
 
 68 THE CLAYBORNES 
 
 Miss Bowie," he said significantly, taking up a 
 glass of water : " God gave us Lincoln and Liberty. 
 Let us fight for both," and he drank the toast 
 without another word. Regina looked at the gen 
 eral curiously ; then rising from the table she said 
 with a calm dignity, " I '11 leave you gentlemen to 
 your cigars." She could not refrain from giving 
 Rawlins a half -defiant look as she passed him ; 
 and throwing a coquettish glance at General Sher 
 man, walked slowly from the room, through the 
 hall and out into the garden. Once in the garden 
 she ran down the walk in high spirits, laughing to 
 herself as she ran. She did not stop until she 
 reached a grove of pine-trees at a little distance 
 from the house. Through the shrubbery on her left 
 she could see the Federal soldiers lying at ease 
 under the shade trees, and the Union generals who 
 had come oiit upon the veranda to smoke. She 
 clinched her hand and shook it in the direction of 
 the Yankees. Then with an expectant light in 
 her bright eyes she turned and looked down the 
 road at her right. 
 
 Long and earnestly she peered down the road, 
 which lay white and hot in the afternoon sun. As 
 far as her eye could reach, over a gentle, sloping 
 hill and across a piece of level until it disappeared 
 into a bit of woodland beyond, the road showed 110 
 sign of human life. From time to time Regina 
 would turn her eyes in the direction of the house, 
 to assure herself that the Yankees were still there. 
 Then with impatience she would twist her head in 
 the opposite direction.
 
 REGINA'S TOAST 69 
 
 " It is nearly two hours since I sent word to our 
 friends by a swift messenger," she murmured im 
 patiently. " Oh, do not fail me, Jackson, do not 
 fail me, as I have not failed you." Then she flew 
 back to the house. In the library she found quiet 
 and soft-eyed Dora Robertson, where she had re 
 tired as soon as the dominating Regina had released 
 her from the table. 
 
 " Oh, Dora," cried Regina, throwing her arms 
 about the young girl, " I am so excited." 
 
 " I should think you would be after having gone 
 into the dining-room where all those Yankee sol 
 diers were. I wonder how I had the courage to fol 
 low you." 
 
 " Pooh, it is not that they would n't hurt us. 
 But just think," she went on, whispering in Dora's 
 ear, " two of the biggest Yankee chiefs, Grant and 
 Sherman, are here together under this roof, with 
 such a small escort. What if a force of our men 
 should ride up just by chance ? Did you know 
 Dora, that this morning there was a battalion of 
 our cavalry not many miles away ? It may be 
 nearer by this tune," and she walked to the win 
 dow and looked out through the half-closed blinds. 
 
 A young Federal officer, who, together with 
 Benjamin Chesterfield and a few of the younger 
 staff officers, had eaten lunch upon the large ve 
 randa, strolled across the lawn. He paused under 
 the trees, where his men lay resting, and spoke to a 
 sub-lieutenant. Then passing on he approached 
 the house, as if intending to saunter around the 
 building.
 
 70 THE CLAYBORNES 
 
 From her coign of vantage, screened by the 
 window-shutter, Eegina could see him as he drew 
 near. Without being seen by him she could note 
 his appearance. She saw that his uniform, although 
 dusty and somewhat worn, set off a shapely figure, 
 and that he was well-favored. Regina had a keen 
 eye for manly beauty, and looked again with more 
 interest ; then she saw that the sun-browned and 
 war-stained Federal officer was Gordon Clayborne. 
 He came so near to her that she could smell the 
 smoke from his cigar, yet he would have passed 
 by unheeding, had she so desired. For a moment 
 in her first surprise, she had thought of drawing 
 back into the room, but dominated by a strong 
 impulse she felt that she could not let him go, and 
 therefore spoke his name* 
 
 He looked up quickly in the direction whence 
 the sound came, but could see no one. 
 
 " Gordon ! " she repeated, " enter the house by 
 the rear door and come into the room on the right- 
 hand side of the hall. I am there, in the library." 
 
 He still could not see the speaker, but he knew 
 the voice. 
 
 " Regina ! " he began, but the blinds closed 
 tightly, and, electrified with amazement, he did as 
 she had bidden him. 
 
 As he entered the library the slight figure of a 
 girl pushed past him, but he did not notice her. 
 
 "Regina!" he cried, " What marvel is this? 
 I am so taken by surprise I cannot believe it is 
 
 you."
 
 REGINA'S TOAST 71 
 
 " This is a world of surprises, my dear Gordon. 
 Is it more strange for you to find me here at a 
 friend's house than that I should ever see you in 
 that uniform and with those men ? " 
 
 She stood before him with great self-composure. 
 She spoke in the low sweet voice habitual to her, 
 yet while she smiled at him there was a bitter note 
 of contempt on the words " that uniform " and 
 " those men." 
 
 Gordon looked at her without speaking. Except 
 that she was now less the girl and more the wo 
 man, she had changed little since he had last seen 
 her. She was one of those who are not easily 
 embarrassed or made ill at ease. Consciousness of 
 her own strength of will, and a belief in herself 
 and her powers gave her a self-poise that rarely 
 forsook her. 
 
 " Gordon," she said at length, " you left home 
 without saying good-by to me. Why did you ? " 
 
 Her wonderful eyes met his. He answered 
 her with frankness. " I left you without saying 
 good-by, Regina, because I was afraid to see you 
 again." 
 
 " Afraid of me, Gordon ? " she echoed softly. 
 
 " Afraid that you might be able to dissuade 
 me from a course of action upon which I was 
 determined." 
 
 "Then I had some influence over you, Gordon," 
 she said. 
 
 " Great influence Regina." 
 
 " And yet I could not keep you. While your 
 brother Clifford"
 
 72 THE CLAYBORNES 
 
 " Tell me about Clifford ! " he exclaimed eagerly. 
 " How is he ? Where is he ? And my father 
 "When did you see them last ? I have not heard 
 of them for months." 
 
 " Your father is ill " - 
 
 " Wounded ? " interrupted Gordon anxiously. 
 
 " No, he has had the fever, but he will recover. 
 He is now back in Richmond." 
 
 "And Clifford?" 
 
 " Nothing seems to injure Clifford. Bullets 
 seem to pass him by, disease ignores him. He is 
 always the same cheerful, undaunted spirit." 
 
 Then she looked into his face with a triumphant 
 expression in her brilliant eyes. " I can do more 
 than sit at home, Gordon, picking lint for the 
 soldiers or sewing shirts. That is splendid wo 
 man's work and there are lots of good women to 
 do it. But I found I could do more I have 
 done more." 
 
 " What have you done, Eegina ? " 
 
 " Much that many men could not have done," 
 she answered significantly. 
 
 At that moment there were sounds of excited 
 commotion at the front of the house. 
 
 Gordon stepped suddenly to the window and 
 pushed open the blinds. Regina's head was at his 
 shoulder. Winding out of the woods about a mile 
 distant rode a troop of horse. 
 
 " That is one thing which I have done, Gordon 
 Clayborne. Through me the two most infamous 
 Yankee generals will be taken prisoners. Is not
 
 REGINA'S TOAST 73 
 
 that something for a woman to do ? " The flush 
 of success was upon her cheek ; her dark eyes 
 flashed with elation, and there was a ring of exul 
 tation in her voice. 
 
 Quick in action, Gordon sprang through the 
 window and was among his men in an instant, giv 
 ing orders in rapid succession. The generals with 
 their staffs were already in the saddle. Grant 
 looked quietly at the approaching horsemen. 
 " There 's a battalion of those fellows," he said. 
 " I doubt if they can overtake us, for our horses 
 are fresher; but we had better not linger, Sher 
 man, if you are all ready," and the party gal 
 loped off down the road. Rawlins stayed behind 
 for a moment. " As soon as your men are 
 mounted, Captain Clayborne, follow us and protect 
 our rear. You may all be killed or captured, but 
 keep them from capturing General Grant at all 
 hazards." 
 
 " Yes, sir," shouted Clayborne as his men leaped 
 into their saddles. Then instead of retreating he 
 drew them up in line across the road. A slight 
 rise of ground in front of them hid the approach 
 ing enemy, but by the sound of their horses' hoofs 
 Gordon knew they would be upon them in a few 
 moments. " Men," he said in his decisive way, 
 " when the enemy's nose appears above that knoll 
 charge him. We may surprise and disconcert him 
 for a time. Then turn and make off down the 
 road. Those who are not hurt will probably get 
 away, for the enemy's horses must be tired."
 
 74 THE CLAYBORNES 
 
 Regina Bowie, who during these preparations 
 had stood counting the seconds, now ran to Gor 
 don's side. 
 
 " Gordon, what are you going to do ? " 
 
 "Hold those fellows in check for a few mo 
 ments." 
 
 " You will all be killed or captured. Surrender 
 to them. You need have no fear, Gordon ; I will 
 see that you come off free." 
 
 Gordon had no time to answer. 
 
 Vaulting into the saddle he spoke to his men. 
 "Advance to that cover of pine-trees. When I 
 give the word spring forward out of the ambush 
 like so many fiends." 
 
 " Gordon, you are mad to fight against fate like 
 this. You are fairly beaten. I do not want to 
 see you killed before my eyes. Will you not 
 yield ? " She spoke beseechingly, looking up into 
 his face. 
 
 At any other time her earnestness and solicitude 
 would have greatly moved him, but in the excite 
 ment of the moment he scarcely heard her. 
 
 " In Heaven's name, Regina, go into the house. 
 This is no place for you." 
 
 With a cry of exasperation, she sprang forward. 
 " Then if you won't surrender I will warn them 
 that you are in ambush here." 
 
 Before she had gone a rod Gordon had ridden 
 to her side, and leaning from the saddle caught her 
 by the arm. Leading her to the side of the road 
 he held her there.
 
 REGINA'S TOAST 75 
 
 She made no further resistance, but looking up 
 into his face said quietly : 
 
 " Remember I tried to save you, Gordon, and if 
 I had gotten to them I should have asked that they 
 spare you." 
 
 Gordon let go her arm and pushed her on to the 
 bank away from the road. " For God's sake, Re- 
 gina, retire, or you may get hurt." 
 
 " Forward, men ! " he cried in the next breath, 
 and at his command the little band rode straight 
 into the teeth of the advancing foe. It was a sud 
 den charge, a shock, a whirl and a retreat, with a 
 running fight along the road. A fierce, hot fight, 
 where many a trooper on both sides left an empty 
 saddle. Then as Captain Clayborne had foretold, 
 the Union soldiers what were left of them 
 forged ahead on their fresh horses, while the Con 
 federates followed closely, firing after their retreat 
 ing foes. 
 
 Regina watched the flight and pursuit from an 
 upper window of the house. 
 
 " I pray the Lord that they do capture old 
 Grant," she murmured. " Oh, they must take 
 him ! " 
 
 At nightfall, gray-coated, dust-begrimed troop 
 ers walked their horses painfully back to the 
 Robertson mansion. Regina stood anxiously upon 
 the veranda to receive them. 
 
 " Oh, Captain Moffett," she cried in consterna 
 tion, " have you let them escape ? " 
 
 " They got away without our letting them, Miss
 
 76 THE CLAYBORNES 
 
 Bowie. Some of our men, having better horses, 
 are still on the chase, but we others just had to 
 give up. Our animals are dead beat out." 
 
 " Do you think there is any hope of their catch 
 ing Grant ? " 
 
 " They '11 chase him clear into Memphis if they 
 don't. I tell you, Miss Bowie, those Yankees are 
 good ones to run, but we dropped a good sight of 
 'em." 
 
 " Well, do you think there is any hope of our 
 men overtaking Grant ? " 
 
 " Candidly, Miss Bowie, I don't think there is 
 any prospect of our men catching old Grant this 
 side of h , begging your pardon ; but I think 
 they'll find him there some day."
 
 CHAPTER V 
 
 A HOT RIDE AFTER GRANT 
 
 BENJAMIN CHESTERFIELD, the non-combatant, 
 with a smoking revolver in his hand, rode in the 
 rear rank by the side of Gordon Clayborne. 
 " I 'm not much of a fighter," he said apolo 
 getically between shots, " and strictly speaking I 
 do not suppose I am entitled to take a hand in this 
 scrimmage ; but in an emergency like this it does 
 not do to stand upon technicalities. If my big 
 carcass can stop a bullet which might reach the 
 general, why, it 's my duty to interpose it." 
 
 It was a hot ride they had with the bullets sing 
 ing in the air behind them. Their revolvers once 
 emptied, they made no attempt to reload, but bent 
 all their energies towards widening the distance 
 between them and the pursuing cavalry. Chester 
 field's big carcass did not stop a bullet, but the 
 horse he bestrode gave a quick snort, plunged, 
 wavered, and fell to its knees, to roll over and ex 
 pire by the roadside. The newspaper man dis 
 entangled his feet from the stirrups and waved his 
 hand to Clayborne. " Good-by, I guess I '11 have 
 to stay with the ' rebs ' ! " he shouted. 
 
 By Gordon's side galloped a horse whose sad-
 
 78 THE CLAYBORNES 
 
 die had been emptied by the last volley. Gordon 
 caught the rein, and pulling up, galloped rapidly 
 back to the discomfited correspondent. 
 
 " Here 's another horse," he said, throwing the 
 bridle into Chesterfield's hand. " Jump into the 
 saddle." The non-combatant followed the advice 
 with surprising agility for one of his size. Then 
 the two men dashed away together and succeeded 
 in making good their retreat, but the call was 
 close and Gordon Clayborne had received a bullet 
 in the arm. 
 
 " You got me out of a tight squeeze, Clayborne," 
 said Chesterfield tersely. " I shan't forget it." 
 
 Gordon's act had been done on the spur of the 
 moment. It was one of many thousand similar 
 deeds which warfare brings forth. He hardly gave 
 it a second thought, yet the deed itself cemented 
 a life friendship. 
 
 General Grant and his party rode at the top of 
 their speed for some time. 
 
 " Those fellows are making us run for it, 
 Grant," laughed Sherman. " I guess ' you 're 
 sorry you did n't take a larger escort." 
 
 Grant looked over his shoulder at their pur 
 suers. " Our men are putting up a splendid 
 fight," he said, " but I fear the rebels will capture 
 them." 
 
 " Never mind, we ought to come across some of 
 iny outlying regiments, at any time now. The 
 ' rebs ' will run right into a trap, and we '11 bag the 
 whole lot," rejoined the optimistic Sherman.
 
 A HOT RIDE AFTER GRANT 79 
 
 Although the pursuit was desperate and the 
 Confederates spared neither horse nor rider, all 
 their efforts to overtake the Union party were 
 fruitless. The horses of the Federals, refreshed by 
 their recent rest, gradually increased the distance 
 between them and their pursuers, until finally the 
 gray coats were no longer in view, and the sound 
 of their horses' hoofs was not audible. 
 
 " Let us pull up a little," said General Grant. 
 " I don't want to spoil this horse." 
 
 The party slackened its speed and Rawlins 
 began to breathe more freely. 
 
 " Some one must have sent word to the enemy 
 that we were resting at that man Robertson's 
 house," mused General Grant after their horses 
 had been reined up into a swinging lope. 
 
 " I '11 wager that battalion is a detachment from 
 Jackson's cavalry," said Sherman. " I had no 
 idea he was so near ; but it does beat all how rebel 
 cavalry gets over the ground. You think you have 
 those fellows surrounded in one part of the country 
 and presto ! they slip through your fingers and 
 bob up in another place, miles away, grinning and 
 ready for business." 
 
 " They are superb horsemen," said Grant, " and 
 their leaders are men of intrepid courage and reck 
 less daring. Such men as Forrest and Stuart and 
 also that guerrilla chieftain, Morgan, are equal 
 to many regiments of foot soldiers. They have 
 no base of supplies to protect, but are at home 
 wherever they go. The people all through their
 
 80 THE CLAYBORNES 
 
 States idolize them. They feed them with the 
 best of their food, shelter and nurse them when 
 they are sick or wounded. With a few handfuls 
 of parched corn and a flask of whiskey in their 
 pockets these Southern cavalry raiders can ride 
 for days in the saddle. They do us incalculable 
 damage. They destroy millions of dollars of our 
 supplies and kill or capture our troops to the extent 
 of many times their own number." 
 
 " You are right," acquiesced Sherman ; " for 
 every regiment I had working on the repairs to 
 the Memphis Railroad I had to detail another regi 
 ment to guard its supplies ; and even then Mor 
 gan's men carried off some of our cattle right 
 under our very noses. And what do you think the 
 rascal had the impudence to do? He sent me 
 word that I must give my steers better fodder, for 
 it was hardly worth his while to carry off such a 
 poor skinny lot. We must learn to fight these 
 fellows with their own weapons," and Sherman 
 laughed jovially. 
 
 " I know of only one Union cavalry officer whom 
 I would match against either Forrest or Stuart," 
 said Grant. 
 
 " Who is that ? " demanded Sherman with keen 
 interest. 
 
 " He is that little Irish colonel, Philip Sheridan. 
 You keep your eye on him, Sherman. Some day 
 you '11 see him making the fur fly." 
 
 Half an hour later the little cavalcade struck 
 the line of the Memphis Railroad where a regiment
 
 A HOT RIDE AFTER GRANT 81 
 
 of soldiers were hard at work laying track, con 
 structing culverts, building trestles, and working 
 away like beavers. 
 
 " I think we can feel pretty secure now," said 
 Sherman, drawing in his horse to give him a 
 breathing spell. " I 've got six regiments strung 
 out along the railroad between this point and the 
 city. We 've been cleaning out a tunnel which 
 the rebels blew up for us." 
 
 Grant, who had dismounted and who was rub 
 bing down the wet coat of his handsome horse, 
 looked up from his work, to say emphatically : 
 
 " I do not know a job, from the simple nailing 
 of a horseshoe to a stupendous engineering work 
 or the most intricate mathematical problem, that 
 volunteers cannot be found in our ranks to do, and 
 do well." 
 
 " And yet these are the armies which European 
 tacticians sneeringly call i armed mobs,'" com 
 mented Sherman. 
 
 " I have never called upon these ' armed mobs ' 
 for any extraordinary service and found them 
 wanting," said Grant warmly, remounting and 
 riding along among the men. 
 
 The two generals were at once recognized, and 
 the soldiers flocked about them, cheering heartily. 
 Grant, in particular, was the object of their 
 attentions. The general bore the demonstration 
 placidly, until a group of enthusiastic young 
 fellows surrounded him and began to draw hairs 
 from his horse's tail as souvenirs.
 
 82 THE CLAYBORNES 
 
 " Men, fall back ! " he commanded sternly, and 
 quickly urging his steed out of the circle, he can 
 tered away, followed by Kawlins and the other 
 members of his staff, who were laughing heartily 
 at their chief's discomfiture. 
 
 " A few minutes more and those boys would not 
 have left a hair in my horse's tail," declared Grant 
 ruefully. 
 
 By this time Gordon Clayborne and his men 
 had ridden up. They were covered with dust and 
 blood, and showed signs of the hard knocks which 
 they had received. " Here we are, Colonel Raw- 
 lins," cried Clayborne, saluting. " Ten of our 
 number are in the hands of the Confederates or 
 lying by the roadside, and those of us left are not 
 very pretty to look at ; but if you want any fighting 
 done, I reckon you '11 find lots of it left in these 
 fellows." The fire of excitement still burned in 
 his eyes, and his voice rang clear and steady, though 
 his right arm hung limp from the shoulder and 
 there were signs of pain on his face. 
 
 About noon on the day following they arrived 
 at Memphis. Gordon Clayborne's wound, which 
 had been attended to hastily the night before, was 
 more painful than he would admit, and he was not 
 sorry when they reached the city. Here it was 
 given further attention, and to his intense cha 
 grin he was told by the hospital surgeon that it 
 would be a fortnight before he could use his right 
 arm. 
 
 Like all men of action, Gordon Clayborne chafed
 
 A HOT RIDE AFTER GRANT 83 
 
 under any restraint to bodily exercise, and he in 
 quired daily of the surgeon, with great anxiety, 
 how long it would be before he could report for 
 active duty.
 
 CHAPTER VI 
 
 MAEJORIE WARE 
 
 THUS a week passed, and Gordon Clayborne, 
 having ample time on his hands, amused himself 
 as best he could, which was little enough, by rid 
 ing about the city and out into the surrounding 
 country. One sunny afternoon he rode out a little 
 way from the city. He guided his horse with the 
 reins in his left hand, for the right arm was still 
 imprisoned in its sling. 
 
 The day was warm, and Gordon sought the 
 grateful shade of some woods that grew invitingly 
 by the roadside. He allowed his horse, with the 
 rein on his neck, to walk at random under the 
 pleasant shade, while the rider bared his head to 
 the soft breezes, and drank in the sweet odor from 
 the pine woods. It was one of those moments 
 when the most hardened soldier, the most blood 
 thirsty fighter, could not fail to have his passions 
 soothed by the soft influences of his surroundings. 
 Gordon Clayborne, being neither hardened nor 
 bloodthirsty, but a fine young fellow who had, if 
 the truth be known, quite a tender heart beat 
 ing under his coat, was in a meditative mood 
 colored by some sadness. Suddenly he was awak-
 
 MARJORIE WARE 85 
 
 ened from his musings by his horse. The animal 
 stopped, and, putting his nose high in the air, gave 
 utterance to a long, loud whinny. This call was 
 answered by a similar sound near at hand, though 
 somewhat less distinct. 
 
 Clayborne caught up the reins in his hand, while 
 he looked intently toward the spot whence the 
 sound came. There was a rustle among the bushes, 
 followed by a patter as of footsteps upon the leaves. 
 Very light footsteps they were, like those of some 
 small animal scurrying away to avoid detection. 
 
 Captain Clayborne did not apprehend danger, 
 but long experience develops caution. Quietly he 
 dismounted, stepped behind a tree, and as silently 
 as possible, from one tree to another, worked his 
 way in a half circle until he could see behind the 
 screen of bushes. 
 
 There is nothing in the appearance of a clean 
 limbed little Kentucky mare with a glossy well- 
 groomed coat, and wearing a neat side-saddle, to 
 startle a soldier. Clayborne stepped forward, and 
 put his hand upon the sleek neck, while he looked 
 ahout him to discover the owner of the animal. 
 At his feet bubbled a spring, cool and refresh 
 ing, from its bed of white sand and pebbles, and 
 from this source ran a small stream of water. 
 Upon the other side of the pool grew a large tree 
 whose friendly Ranches stretched out over his 
 head. It was an old tree, gnarled and knotted, 
 with scrubby bushes clustered around its trunk. 
 
 Gordon Clayborne felt certain that behind this
 
 86 THE CLAYBORNES 
 
 tree was concealed the owner of the horse. Now 
 it was more than likely that she was aware of 
 Clayborne's presence ; and if she was hiding there, 
 it was doubtless because she did not wish to be 
 seen by him. 
 
 Captain Clayborne had not come into the woods 
 with any idea of playing hide and seek with a mys 
 terious woman, nor was he a man who would 
 intrude into any lady's bower, although it were 
 nothing more than a bower of leaves. But in war 
 time rules of etiquette must vary with the emer 
 gency ; particularly as petticoats have been known 
 to conceal trouser legs and cavalry boots, and a 
 side-saddle is not positive evidence that a woman 
 has been sitting upon it. Furthermore, he saw 
 upon the other side at the water's edge the imprint 
 of a man's boot, and judging from the size of the 
 footmark it was a man of no small stature. 
 
 If the tree sheltered an enemy, strategy sug 
 gested taking him by surprise, so with a sudden 
 leap Clayborne darted around to the other side of 
 the tree. No sooner had he done so than he took 
 a step backward in surprise, hastily returning a 
 pistol to his belt. 
 
 The figure that confronted him was certainly 
 not that of a man. The trim riding-habit con 
 cealed no cavalry boots. It was unmistakably and 
 positively a real woman. 
 
 Under most circumstances Gordon Clayborne 
 was not at a loss for speech, but for a few seconds 
 he stood and stared at the young woman before 
 him.
 
 MARJORIE WARE 87 
 
 There are some scenes which become photo 
 graphed in the mind's eye for all time, and forever 
 afterward Gordon could recall the picture of a 
 large oak-tree under which stood a girl, clad in a 
 shapely riding-habit of dark blue. She was per 
 haps a trifle under the average in height, but so 
 gracefully proportioned that she could never be 
 called small. She looked full at Gordon out of a 
 pair of deep blue eyes in which there was a star 
 tled expression, and the sensitive mouth seemed at 
 first inclined to cry out, but evidently thought 
 better of it, and instead the lips parted with the 
 inquiry : 
 
 "Why do you spring around the tree, and 
 pounce upon me in this manner ? " 
 
 " I beg a thousand pardons," said Gordon, re 
 covering himself, and taking off his hat politely. 
 " I regret that I startled you. I did not know 
 just what I should find behind the tree." 
 
 " But why should you want to find any one at 
 all?" she asked. 
 
 " I saw a pretty little filly in the woods with 
 an empty side-saddle on her back ; naturally I was 
 interested in discovering the owner. She might 
 be in need of assistance. In fact, there is every 
 reason why I should have wanted to find her ; but 
 I am very sorry if I have frightened you, and I 
 earnestly crave pardon," and he bowed again with 
 great politeness. 
 
 The lady in the blue riding-habit looked at him 
 more closely than her first alarm had permitted.
 
 88 THE CLAYBORNES 
 
 As she saw a young man of good presence and gal 
 lant bearing, wearing the uniform of the United 
 States army, and with a wounded arm, she seemed 
 to feel somewhat reassured. 
 
 "I pardon you, sir," she replied ingenuously, 
 " but you should be careful in future how you offer 
 assistance to young women. Perhaps you may 
 frighten them more than you may aid them." 
 
 " I will remember your good advice," replied 
 Clayborne, smiling pleasantly ; " but if I might 
 venture to give you a word of advice in return, I 
 would suggest I speak from the man's point of 
 view that when a person hides behind a tree, it 
 invites pursuit." 
 
 The color came to her cheek prettily. " Per 
 haps I did wrong to hide," she said. " I heard 
 some one coming through the woods, and I acted 
 on the impulse of the moment." 
 
 " I am going to continue my word of advice," 
 said Gordon, " and add that it is hardly safe for 
 young ladies to ride alone through the woods." 
 
 " I am not in the habit of doing so, but this was 
 an exceptional case. I came to the spring for 
 for " She hesitated strangely in making so sim 
 ple a statement, then suddenly burst out, " Oh, I 
 wish you would not give me any more advice nor 
 ask me any questions." 
 
 They were now standing upon the edge of the 
 pool. For the moment Gordon had entirely for 
 gotten the footprint in the soft earth. He was 
 about to reply in some fair words of civility when 
 he chanced to look down upon it.
 
 MARJORIE WARE 89 
 
 " One question I should like to ask of you," he 
 said : " Can you tell me who made that foot 
 mark?" 
 
 " What footmark ? " she inquired quickly, 
 while the startled look which again came into her 
 eyes told him plainly that she knew perfectly well 
 what he meant. 
 
 " That footmark in the moss and wet sand by 
 the edge of the water." 
 
 " How should I know ? it may be yours 
 or mine. We have both been treading there." 
 
 The feigned carelessness of her reply was so 
 very transparent as to bring a smile to Clayborne's 
 lips. 
 
 " I am sure it is not mine," he replied, " and 
 I hardly think it is yours ; but we can measure. 
 Will you kindly place your foot exactly on it ? " 
 
 " I will not ! " she exclaimed defiantly, look 
 ing at him with eyes that said, " I could tell you 
 all about it if I would." 
 
 " You know who made it," Clayborne said 
 firmly, as he looked straight into her eyes. 
 
 They did not flinch under his gaze, although the 
 color came to her cheeks. 
 
 "What right have you to question me?" she 
 demanded. 
 
 " I question you thus closely because it seems 
 important that I should discover who made those 
 footmarks. Your whole attitude convinces me 
 that you can throw light upon the subject, and al 
 though I cannot force you to disclose the truth, 
 it devolves upon me to find out."
 
 90 THE CLAYBORNES 
 
 "Do you think you are acting honorably?" she 
 asked coldly. 
 
 " It is one of the unfortunate necessities of 
 war," he replied, " that our suspicions are excited 
 by the most trivial matters. Scouts and spies fre 
 quently come within our lines. Any concealment 
 suggests hostility. That is why I am so persist 
 ent, I assure you. That is the only reason for my 
 questions." 
 
 " And I assure you, sir, most solemnly, that I 
 am neither a scout nor a spy." A smile played 
 in the corners of her mouth as she spoke, and she 
 had entirely recovered her composure. 
 
 There was something irresistible in her sudden 
 changes from timidity to assurance. If Clayborne 
 had deemed her actions suspicious, his misgivings 
 were lulled to rest by the naivete and charm of 
 her manner. 
 
 The lady saw her advantage and followed it up 
 rapidly. 
 
 " I am Miss Marjorie Ware ; my father is Gen 
 eral Ware of General Sherman's corps." 
 
 She spoke with such frankness that no man 
 could ever have doubted her for a moment. 
 
 Captain Clayborne appeared slightly abashed as 
 he replied : 
 
 " I am sorry you did not mention that before. 
 I should not have annoyed you with my question- 
 ing." 
 
 " You did not give me an opportunity," she 
 answered ; " and then if you doubted my word at 
 one time, why should you believe it at another ? "
 
 MARJORIE WARE 91 
 
 " I did not doubt your word, Miss Ware. You 
 make me feel like a villain by intimating such a 
 thing. Whatever slight suspicions I had, have 
 been entirely dispelled. Permit me to apologize 
 for ever having had them." 
 
 She had untied the mare, and stood stroking 
 the pretty creature's soft nose while Clayborne 
 spoke. 
 
 Now she sprang unaided into the saddle. 
 
 " I pardon you readily," she replied gayly. " In 
 return I have a favor to ask of you." 
 
 " I grant it in advance, Miss Ware." 
 
 ' ; Do not make any attempt to trace the owner of 
 those footprints, which are neither yours nor mine." 
 
 She looked him full in the face. She did not 
 blush this time, nor seem in the least disconcerted. 
 Indeed, of the two it was Clayborne who showed 
 embarrassment, and he hastily assented. 
 
 " Do you promise solemnly ? " she inquired. 
 
 " Of course I do." 
 
 " Thank you," she said simply, and cantered off 
 through the woods. 
 
 Clayborne stood looking after her, until she had 
 disappeared from view. 
 
 " What a fool I have made of myself ! What a 
 thundering fool ! " he muttered savagely. " She 
 evidently came to meet some favored suitor a 
 clandestine meeting. What affair is it of mine, 
 however? I had no business to meddle with it. 
 Miss Ware father. General Ware of General 
 Sherman's corps " Clayborne stopped his mus-
 
 92 THE CLAYBORNES 
 
 ing suddenly, and picked up an object which lay 
 half hidden in the bushes by the tree. It was a 
 small basket, containing a plate, knife and fork, and 
 a tin cup. The only evidence of food were a few 
 crumbs of bread in the bottom of the basket. His 
 musings took another sudden turn. " This is more 
 than odd," he thought. " Her admirer needs to be 
 fed secretly? Doesn't he get enough at his mess 
 table ? Miss Ware Miss Ware what are you 
 up to ? And what did I promise ? They are tre 
 mendously big boots that made those marks, too. 
 But there is no reason why I should not return 
 Miss Ware her property, for it is evidently hers : " 
 and Captain Clay borne rode slowly away through 
 the woods. 
 
 Had he not given the promise, and had he ex 
 amined the tree a little more closely, he would 
 have seen that the brushwood grew in front of a 
 hollow trunk, and within that trunk, drawn up as 
 far as they could go, were the boots that a short 
 time before had stood by the spring. 
 
 " Miss Ware Miss Ware, what are you up 
 to ? " Clayborne repeated as he cantered back to 
 his quarters.
 
 CHAPTER VII 
 IN THE CHINA-CLOSET 
 
 THE next morning Captain Gordon Clayborne, 
 being still on the invalid list, rode out to take the 
 air. But he was well enough to be dressed cap-a- 
 pie, to sit firmly in the saddle upon a well-groomed 
 horse, and to ride jauntily away with a little wicker 
 basket on the pommel of his saddle. He made in 
 the direction of general headquarters. The road 
 was muddy, and his spirited chestnut horse picked 
 his way through the black paste as if reluctant to 
 soil the white stockings above his fetlocks. 
 
 As Captain Clayborne reined up his horse in 
 front of headquarters, two men came out of the 
 gate. One of them was his friend, the ubiquitous 
 newspaper correspondent, Chesterfield. By his 
 side walked a young sub-lieutenant, whose uniform 
 was spick and span, with its buttons as bright as 
 polish could make them. " Some general's favor 
 got him his commission, I '11 wager," thought 
 Clayborne, " and I '11 bet further that those but 
 tons which shine so brilliantly have never been 
 under fire." 
 
 In both of these conclusions he was right to the 
 dot ; yet if he could have read the young man's
 
 94 THE CLAYBORNES 
 
 heart he would have known that the lad was itch 
 ing to see some real service. 
 
 Chesterfield, who was always as cheerful as the 
 sun, greeted him cordially. " Well, Clay borne, 
 I am glad to see you riding about so sprightly. I 
 feel guilty every time I see that arm of yours, and 
 I would gladly put my own in a sling if by so 
 doing I could relieve yours." 
 
 Clayborne dismounted from his horse. " Oh, it 
 was mere chance, Chesterfield ; our positions might 
 have been reversed," he answered, dismissing the 
 subject with a laugh. 
 
 " Chance or not, it was an important matter to 
 this correspondent, and if ever the day comes when 
 I can render you a service, remember that Ben 
 Chesterfield can be counted upon." Then without 
 waiting for a reply, he said quickly : " Let me 
 make known to you a particular young friend of 
 mine, Lieutenant Francis Ware, a son of General 
 Ephraim Ware." 
 
 As Clayborne shook hands with the lieutenant 
 he scanned the young fellow's face with much 
 interest. His hair and eyes were brown, yet there 
 was a strong resemblance to the sister. He seemed 
 so near her age that Gordon wondered which was 
 the elder. His uncertainty was pardonable, for the 
 pair were twins. 
 
 The three men stood in friendly talk for a few 
 moments. Then they separated, Chesterfield and 
 Ware passing out and Gordon going in, without 
 having divulged to them the nature of his visit.
 
 IN THE CHINA-CLOSET 95 
 
 There were a number of houses in the vicinity, 
 occupied by various officers ; and a sentry pointed 
 out to him a small house a few hundred yards dis 
 tant as General Ware's own quarters. Tying his 
 horse to a post near by, Gordon stepped on to the 
 veranda, where a sickly vine was making a feeble 
 attempt to climb a dilapidated trellis. The place 
 seemed deserted, but Gordon noticed a soldier 
 walking up and down the yard, cooling off Miss 
 Ware's bay filly. " She has been out riding this 
 morning," thought Clayborne, "and I am sure I 
 could tell in what direction she rode." 
 
 Clayborne's knock was answered by the young 
 lady herself. She recoiled a step with an exclama 
 tion of surprise, while she blushed visibly. It was 
 more than the soft flush which comes to a girl's 
 cheek at the moment of some sudden surprise 
 or unexpected pleasure, and Gordon Clayborne 
 quickly surmised there was some hidden reason for 
 her embarrassment. He took a sly pleasure in 
 increasing the color in her cheeks by holding out 
 the tell-tale basket, while he studied her more care 
 fully than upon their first meeting. 
 
 Miss Ware had doffed her riding-habit for a 
 lighter dress, the day being warm. Her costume 
 was of cool linen, light blue in color. It was of 
 the simplest make and texture, yet it fitted her 
 dainty, graceful figure so perfectly that no dress 
 could have been more becoming to her, no matter 
 how costly the material. This is what Gordon 
 thought as she took the basket, saying, with open-
 
 96 THE CLAYBORNES 
 
 eyed astonishment, " Why, where in the world did 
 you find that ? " 
 
 He answered slowly, " I found it where you 
 left it, by the spring at the foot of the oak-tree." 
 
 " And you rode over here this morning for the 
 sole purpose of returning it to me ? " she exclaimed. 
 
 " To restore your basket and for the pleasure 
 of seeing you again, Miss Ware," replied Gordon 
 Clayborne. 
 
 " Won't you come in and rest after your ride, 
 Mr. Clayborne ? " she inquired. 
 
 " With all my heart, Miss Ware." 
 
 She led the way to a small sitting-room. Gor 
 don followed, half feeling as if he were intruding, 
 for the suspicion which had been aroused in his 
 mind the day before had been quickened by Miss 
 Ware's own behavior as she received him. Yet 
 had she wished to get rid of him, could she not 
 have thought of an excuse? Gordon Clayborne 
 was not the sort of man to cut short a talk with 
 a pretty girl. Miss Ware was an exceptionally 
 pretty girl, and she had awakened in him a very 
 strong feeling of curiosity and interest. 
 
 " Father has gone off to a military conference, 
 and so I shall have to entertain you all alone," she 
 said, with a charming lack of self-consciousness, 
 adding, "but I can't offer you any refreshment, 
 for Martha has gone to market, and she keeps 
 everything under lock and key." 
 
 " I shall not regret Martha's absence," said 
 Clayborne, taking the seat offered him ; " and with
 
 IN THE CHINA-CLOSET 97 
 
 the greatest admiration and respect for General 
 Ware, I much prefer to have his charming 
 daughter to entertain me." 
 
 " Martha is a dear old colored woman," said 
 Miss Ware, with entire disregard for the compli 
 ment, "but we shall soon have to bid her good- 
 by, for father is going to the front before long and 
 I shall have to go up to St. Louis again." 
 
 " Is St. Louis your home, Miss Ware ? " 
 
 " Oh, I have no particular home. I go about 
 with father whenever I can. The rest of the time 
 I stay with one of my aunts. I have aunts in St. 
 Louis and in Washington." 
 
 " It must be a great happiness for General Ware 
 to have his daughter with him," remarked Clay- 
 borne. 
 
 " And for me, too ; I love to be with him and I 
 don't like to stay at my aunts'," she replied. 
 
 The conversation followed along in a conven 
 tional way, both of them talking about what inter 
 ested them not at all, both of them thinking busily 
 about what interested them a good deal. Now, as 
 has doubtless been suspected, Miss Ware's mind 
 was occupied with a matter which to her was of 
 considerable importance. She regretted Gordon 
 Clayborne's visit, regarding it as rather inoppor 
 tune. Beyond that it cannot be accurately stated 
 here what she thought of him. But his thoughts 
 about her are much easier of interpretation ; they 
 ran somewhat as follows : 
 
 " Her hair is light brown in color ; it has a
 
 98 THE CLAYBORNES 
 
 dash of gold ; it is soft and wavy ; it is as glossy 
 as the skin of a fawn ; it is tossed about her fore 
 head in rebellious and bewitching little curls. Her 
 eyes are dark blue; when she laughs or speaks 
 with animation, the pupils dilate, and her bright 
 eyes look still darker. Her chin is small, but well 
 rounded and firm." 
 
 " Miss Ware, is that little filly of yours Ken 
 tucky bred ? " 
 
 " Yes, Mr. Clayborne, but I bought her up in 
 Illinois. She is the sweetest creature, and fleet as 
 a bird." 
 
 " Her mouth is small, and firm too. It shows 
 character. It is a very pretty mouth," thought 
 Clayborne. 
 
 " How old is she, Miss Ware ? " 
 
 " Six years old." 
 
 " I wonder if she is as old as her brother. She 
 looks about twenty. You can tell a horse's age 
 by looking at its teeth, but you can never tell a 
 girl's age. She may be eighteen, she may be twenty, 
 two. What pretty teeth she has ! " 
 
 " Miss Ware, you ride extremely well ; where 
 did you learn ? " 
 
 " Why, I have ridden all my life. When I was 
 quite a little girl, father was colonel at a frontier 
 post. I was brought up on the back of a horse, 
 so to speak." 
 
 Several times during the conversation Gordon 
 thought he heard a sound near at hand as of heavy 
 breathing ; once he imagined he heard a stifled
 
 IN THE CHINA-CLOSET 99 
 
 sneeze. When a person's suspicions are aroused 
 every little incident, however trivial in itself, serves 
 to increase them. Gordon Clayborne had not come 
 with the slightest intention of prying into the pri 
 vate affairs of the young lady. He had some rea 
 son to believe that it was an adventure of a more 
 or less romantic nature which had taken her to 
 the spring the day before, but he did not consider 
 the matter any of his own business. He had come 
 solely to return Miss Marjorie Ware a basket 
 which belonged to her. True, he might have sent 
 it by a messenger, but Marjorie Ware was a very 
 pretty girl ; by some she might be considered a 
 very charming girl. Gordon was of that age, be 
 tween twenty and well, we cannot with any 
 degree of authority set the outside limit when 
 beauty and charm have a very potent influence 
 upon a man's action, so he had not sent a mes 
 senger. 
 
 As he sat opposite Miss Ware, taking a mental 
 inventory of her personal appearance, while he 
 talked with her about the weather, and discussed 
 the merits of her horse, he had a strong feeling 
 that the most acceptable thing he could do would 
 be to withdraw as soon as etiquette permitted. 
 Miss Ware had given him to understand that she 
 was alone ; yet he had that unaccountable feeling 
 of another presence in the vicinity. When he 
 heard what he thought sounded like a suppressed 
 sneeze he looked still more keenly at Miss Ware. 
 
 She was deep in a catalogue of the virtues of
 
 100 THE CLAYBORNES 
 
 Dolly Varden, the little mare. Her face was now 
 as guileless as a spring morning. What man can 
 look upon a fresh young girl's face, with her eyes 
 of innocent blue, or soft brown, or sparkling black, 
 and guess what thoughts, what musings, what fan 
 cies are concealed there ? Gordon Clayborne knew 
 no more what was going on in that head of golden- 
 brown than the man in the moon. No, not as 
 much, for that gentleman has opportunities of ob 
 servation which are denied to us. 
 
 Gordon could no more tell by looking into the 
 demure face opposite him what palpitations were 
 agitating the heart, than he could have read the 
 hieroglyphics on an Egyptian monument. But when 
 there was a startling crash of china in a closet be 
 hind him, he sprang to his feet with positive know 
 ledge that there was some one concealed there. 
 Miss Ware had also risen from her chair in alarm. 
 Gordon looked from the closet door to her. Some 
 thing of his real suspicions must have been visible 
 upon his face. Her cheek turned pink, although 
 she kept her self-control admirably. 
 
 " She certainly carries it off easily," thought 
 Gordon. He was about to seize upon an oppor 
 tunity to withdraw from an uncomfortable situation 
 when Miss Ware said sweetly : 
 
 " Mr. Clayborne, I must take you into my con 
 fidence." 
 
 Gordon Clayborne, usually so gallant and so 
 much at ease, flushed slightly, and replied rather 
 stiffly : " I do not ask for your confidence in such
 
 IN THE CHINA-CLOSET 101 
 
 a matter, Miss Ware. I really think I had better 
 bid you good-day, and relieve you of my presence." 
 
 She produced from the pocket of her blue linen 
 dress a key and held it out to him. 
 
 " Here, Mr. Clayborne, will you please open 
 that closet door ? " 
 
 " Really, Miss Ware, I assure you it is no con 
 cern of mine, whoever may be concealed behind 
 that door. I trust you will exonerate me of any 
 desire to intrude -upon you." 
 
 She came up to him and pressed the key into 
 his hand. " I insist that you open that door at 
 once, Mr. Clayborne," she said, with a gesture of 
 command. 
 
 Gordon Clayborne had never before found him 
 self in a like predicament. He was not accustomed 
 to the role of confidant in the love affairs of young 
 ladies, but it was a difficult matter to decline a 
 command so peremptorily given by a pretty girl. 
 He took the key, unlocked and threw back the 
 door to its full width. 
 
 In the closet, amid some pieces of crockery 
 which in the darkness he had knocked to the floor, 
 stood as black an African as ever wore the badge 
 of serfdom. 
 
 Gordon gave a gasp of surprise, then said 
 sternly : " You black rascal, what are you doing 
 there ? Come out at once ! " 
 
 " Yas, suh, yas, suh, I 'se cummin' right outer 
 yeah, 'deed and 'deed I is," and the big negro 
 stepped sheepishly forward. " I 'se turrible sorry
 
 102 THE CLAYBORNES 
 
 I dun broke all dat crock'ry, Miss War' ; I cer 
 tainly is." 
 
 Miss Ware came close to Gordon to say in a low 
 tone : 
 
 " Mr. Clayborne this poor fellow is a fugitive 
 slave who has escaped into our lines. I consider 
 General Halleck's order that slaves must be ex 
 cluded from our lines because they carry informa 
 tion to the enemy as grossly unjust. I have been 
 helping this unfortunate one. You are now in 
 possession of my secret. I beseech you not to 
 betray it." 
 
 Clayborne broke out in a laugh. 
 
 " Heavens, Miss Ware, you don't think I am a 
 negro-catcher, do you ? " 
 
 His look and tone and hearty laugh reassured 
 her at once. The expression of anxiety upon her 
 face gave place to one of radiance. " I did not 
 know but what you would think that your duty 
 as an army officer " she began. He interrupted 
 her with an impetuous gesture. " I would not go 
 about spying for negroes for any one. If I were 
 ordered by my superiors to expel one from the 
 lines I should do it without question, but otherwise 
 you could fill your whole house with them and I 
 should never see one." Then looking at her closely, 
 he continued: " So this is what you were about 
 when I met you yesterday at the spring ? " 
 
 She nodded assent. 
 
 " I thought it was an entirely different matter," 
 he replied drolly.
 
 IN THE CHINA-CLOSET 103 
 
 She had a pretty trick of blushing which was 
 enchanting to look upon. " It had just dawned 
 upon me that you did. I could not allow any one 
 to entertain such a false idea of me, and so I was 
 obliged to take you into my confidence," she re 
 plied naively. 
 
 Gordon laughed again. For some reason he 
 felt both relieved and pleased. 
 
 " I felt very much annoyed that you should dis 
 cover my secret, Mr. Clayborne," the young lady 
 continued, " but I forgive you now, you have been 
 so very considerate." 
 
 The negro, who had been standing uncomfort 
 ably shifting from one big foot to the other, now 
 realized that he was not to be summarily dealt 
 with by the officer. 
 
 " De Lawd bless you, Marse Claybun, de Lawd 
 will certainly bless you for you goodness to dis 
 yeah nigger," he exclaimed with effusion. 
 
 " That is all right," answered Gordon shortly. 
 " I hope you are worth half the trouble this lady 
 has taken for you. What is your name ? " 
 
 " Ma name 's Apollo, Marse, an' I 'se wuf con- 
 sid'ble." 
 
 " Apollo," said Miss Ware, " go back into the 
 closet, and conceal yourself until I can think of 
 something to do for you, and mind, Apollo, don't 
 you break anything more." 
 
 " Miss War', I '11 conceal ma person jes' ez small 
 ez I kin, but for de Lawd's sake, Miss, doan't yer 
 let de sojer troops sen' me back ; " and Apollo's 
 big form disappeared into the closet.
 
 104 THE CLAYBORNES 
 
 " I don't see what I am to do with him," sighed 
 Marjorie. " He is so big. I have been feeding 
 him for two days, and he eats so much ! " 
 
 Gordon's laugh seemed to indicate a lack of 
 sympathy. " I think, Miss Ware, you had better 
 allow me to turn this fellow over to the provost 
 marshal. Indeed, you will find him an elephant 
 on your hands." 
 
 " How can you suggest such a thing ! " she 
 cried, her eyes flashing. " I will shelter him as 
 long as I can. I will feed him as long as I can 
 procure an ounce of food." 
 
 Gordon looked at her with the same peculiar 
 smile on his lips. " You cannot keep him hidden 
 twenty-four hours, Miss Ware." 
 
 "I think you are very ungenerous, Mr. Clay- 
 borne, to speak like this, particularly after you 
 have been so kind. I had begun to hope you 
 would aid me. Now I see I cannot look to any 
 one for help." 
 
 " I '11 tell you what I will do, Miss Ware. If 
 you can keep this dark-skinned Apollo hidden until 
 nightfall, I will send a couple of soldiers who will 
 see that he is escorted through our lines to the 
 river. He can get on one of the boats and find 
 plenty of work to do. They are using lots of 
 negroes in that way as contrabands." 
 
 "Will you really, Mr. Clayborne?" cried 
 Marjorie, with a note of pleasure in her voice. 
 
 " I will, Miss Ware, if you wish it." 
 
 " Wish it," she cried, " I wish it of all things 
 in the world. Oh, you have made me so happy."
 
 IN THE CHINA-CLOSET 105 
 
 Clayborne regarded her smilingly. " So you 
 are an Abolitionist?" he inquired in a tone of 
 great interest. 
 
 " Of course I am," she answered, opening wide 
 her blue eyes ; " are n't you ? " 
 
 " No, not I ! " 
 
 " No," she repeated, " and yet you are fighting 
 to abolish slavery." 
 
 " I am fighting to preserve the Union. I am 
 obeying my oath as an officer," he replied em 
 phatically. 
 
 Marjorie Ware looked up into his face. Her 
 head did not come higher than his shoulder, and 
 to him she seemed very small and delicate. There 
 was a light of intense earnestness in her eyes and 
 her mouth wore its most determined expression, 
 as she said : 
 
 " You and many other brave men like you are 
 fighting to abolish slavery. You may not know 
 it, but you are all Abolitionists" She spoke with 
 that tone of conviction which is in a woman's 
 voice when she decides a point admitting of no 
 argument. 
 
 Gordon Clayborne did not attempt any reply. 
 To tell the truth, he was more interested in look 
 ing at the fair logician than in following the 
 thread of her logic. 
 
 " But you will take care of poor Apollo," she 
 said quickly. 
 
 " I certainly will, Miss Ware." 
 
 "You are very kind, Mr. Clayborne, and I
 
 106 THE CLAYBORNES 
 
 appreciate your kindness." She held out her 
 hand to him in her frank, open way. " I hope 
 you will come and see me again and let me thank 
 
 you." 
 
 " I certainly will come and see you again, Miss 
 Ware, since you give me the permission." Then 
 raising his voice he called out sternly : " Apollo, 
 you rest easy there and don't you allow a square 
 inch of your black hide to be seen by any one until 
 I send for you." 
 
 " Lawdy, Marse Claybun, I '11 stay yeah, jes' 
 lak I 'se a log," came in muffled tones from behind 
 the door. 
 
 Gordon took leave of Miss Marjorie Ware, and 
 as he rode off, said to himself, smilingly : " She is 
 a red-hot little Abolitionist," and then as he con 
 tinued musing : " I think my mother, if she were 
 here, would be an Abolitionist also."
 
 CHAPTER VHI 
 
 A SUDDEN PARTING 
 
 GENERAL GRANT was going down to the seat 
 of active operations once more, and Clayborne, 
 who no longer wore his arm in a sling, was antici 
 pating the honor of again commanding his body 
 guard. He was looking forward to the change with 
 the expectancy which the vigorous, active man takes 
 in the thought of employment. 
 
 The few weeks he had passed in Memphis had 
 been, nevertheless, spent most pleasantly. Chance, 
 assisted by some design on his own part, had en 
 abled him to see a good deal of Marjorie Ware. 
 He had punctiliously kept the promise he had made 
 to her, and Apollo had been expelled from the 
 lines in a manner which gave him an opportunity 
 to get on board one of the boats plying the Missis 
 sippi in the Union service. By this act Gordon 
 won the everlasting gratitude of the negro and, 
 what was of greater moment, the high regard of 
 Marjorie Ware. 
 
 The young lady had spent a number of the years 
 of her short life in the environment of the army, 
 on the frontier, where she had learned to manage 
 a horse and handle a rifle with equal dexterity.
 
 108 THE CLAYBORNES 
 
 She was passionately fond of horses, and few 
 were the days when she did not ride out on her 
 favorite little filly, " Dolly Varden." Gordon 
 Clayborne not only had a keen appreciation for 
 beauty, but he knew a good horse when he saw it. 
 The one he rode was a thoroughbred of his own 
 purchase, and somehow he managed frequently to 
 ride in company with the general's daughter. 
 
 The life of unrestraint and freedom, which the 
 young girl had enjoyed while living on the plains, 
 had bred in her an artlessness which, added to the 
 natural frankness and sincerity of her nature, made 
 her companionship most refreshing. All the Clay- 
 bornes had the faculty of turning a pretty compli 
 ment, and in the attractive Marjorie, Gordon would 
 have found a charming subject for these graceful 
 courtesies, except that she either unconsciously or 
 willfully ignored them. His most graceful shafts 
 fell pointless to the ground before the armor of 
 her indifference. So the poor fellow gave up in 
 despair trying to please her in this way, and when 
 the habit became too strong within him, was forced 
 to give it vent by praising the good points of her 
 filly, which attention Marjorie seemed to appre 
 ciate thoroughly. Yet the young lady was not 
 indifferent to Gordon Clayborne. She liked his 
 society ; she showed it in her frank way, and the 
 time passed very pleasantly in the lull of warfare, 
 while the wound in the soldier's arm was healing 
 rapidly. 
 
 It was with mingled feelings of satisfaction
 
 A SUDDEN PARTING 109 
 
 and regret that Clayborne received orders to hold 
 himself in readiness to go down to Corinth. 
 His spirits had no sooner leapt up at the thought 
 of going to the front, than Marjorie Ware's golden- 
 brown head recalled itself to his inward eye. He 
 had just come out of the adjutant's office when he 
 decided to go and see her and bid her good-by. 
 The distance to General Ware's house was about 
 a mile, but Gordon set out on foot rather than 
 take the trouble to send for his horse, which was 
 at his own quarters. He had not gone more than 
 half the distance when he saw in front of him the 
 young lady who was in his thoughts. While she 
 was still afar, he had caught sight of the well- 
 known figure walking rapidly with free swinging 
 step, and he knew instantly it was Marjorie, 
 although as a rule she went about on horseback, 
 and rarely walked in the city alone. 
 
 She was preoccupied, and was not aware of his 
 presence until he was close upon her. Then she 
 looked up with a smile of recognition. Before he 
 could greet her a soldier brushed between them, 
 jostling the young lady somewhat rudely. The 
 fellow, although not drunk, had evidently been 
 drinking, and the apology was either not forth 
 coming or was delayed. Gordon's hot blood flashed 
 up in an instant. His right hand shot out and 
 knocked the lout down into the gutter, where he 
 lay like a felled ox. Marjorie gave a cry of dismay. 
 " Oh, you have killed him, Mr. Clayborne." 
 
 "If I have, it is no more than he deserved," 
 replied Gordon warmly.
 
 110 THE CLAYBORNES 
 
 Marjorie, who could not bear to see the meanest 
 creature suffer, bent over the man with anxiety. 
 Gordon endeavored to reassure her. " I reckon 
 he 's not dead ; you can't kill these fellows so easily, 
 Miss Ware." Nevertheless, he helped the man to 
 rise with some feeling of compunction at having 
 punished him so severely. 
 
 The fellow came up rather dazed, but beyond a 
 lump on his forehead the size of a hen's egg, he 
 was not injured. 
 
 Gordon pressed a dollar into his hand, saying 
 sternly : " Now, sir, go along with you, and let 
 this teach you not to jostle a lady in the street 
 without offering an apology." The soldier, glad 
 to be quit of the encounter so easily, disappeared 
 at once. 
 
 " You hardly gave him time to apologize, Mr. 
 Clayborne," said Marjorie ; " but I suppose he was 
 intoxicated, and did not care where he went or 
 whom he collided with." 
 
 " He touched you, Miss Ware, and I just could 
 not help striking him, indeed, I could not," replied 
 Gordon fervently ; " but I 'm sorry for him if you 
 are. I hope you 're not offended with me." 
 
 In the look and smile which she gave him there 
 was a touch of admiration, as she said : " Of 
 course I am not offended with you, Mr. Clay- 
 borne." 
 
 Gordon saw a shadow follow the smile on her 
 face, and said quickly : 
 
 " You have something troubling you, Miss Ware. 
 Tell me what it is."
 
 A SUDDEN PARTING 111 
 
 " My father's health has become so poor that he 
 has been relieved of his command and ordered to 
 Washington." 
 
 " I am very, very sorry," said Gordon, with 
 sympathy. 
 
 " You see, I don't know how I feel about it," 
 Marjorie continued. " I 'm sorry for my father, 
 who is broken-hearted at being obliged to give up 
 his command. I am worried about him, too ; still, 
 I cannot help feeling a little glad, for he will be 
 safe in Washington; and yet I suppose that is 
 weak and selfish of me," she went on, all in one 
 breath. Then she looked up into his face, saying 
 with a droll little smile, " You don't know what it 
 is to be torn by so many conflicting emotions, do 
 you, Mr. Clay borne ? " 
 
 " Yes, I do," protested Gordon, " for I have 
 been ordered to the front, and I have got to say 
 good-by to you." 
 
 They had been walking towards General Ware's 
 quarters, and here they reached the gate. 
 
 " You were coming to say good-by," exclaimed 
 Marjorie, stopping suddenly, " and I am never 
 going to see you again ? " There was a note of 
 real regret in her voice, which she made no at 
 tempt to conceal. 
 
 " Yes, you will, Miss Ware. I shall certainly 
 find you again. When this war is over, I shall 
 come to Washington, or St. Louis, or wherever 
 you may be ; and and you won't forget me, 
 meanwhile, will you?"
 
 112 THE CLAYBORNES 
 
 " Why, Mr. Clayborne ! is anything the matter ? 
 You are becoming so pale ! " cried Marjorie in 
 alarm. 
 
 " The fact is, Miss Ware, I forgot and hit that 
 fellow with my right hand. I fear I have re 
 opened that old wound," Gordon answered, smil 
 ing grimly. 
 
 " Oh, let me call the surgeon at once ! " she 
 cried in sympathy. 
 
 " No, indeed, Miss Ware ; the pain will pass in 
 a moment. I don't think it is serious, and the 
 surgeon might say that I was unfit to go with my 
 company to-morrow." 
 
 She looked at him with compassion. " But you 
 hurt yourself in my behalf," she insisted, " and it 
 may be more serious than you are willing to admit. 
 Won't you please come and see the surgeon ? " 
 
 " No, Miss Ware, not now. I must be going. 
 I am not thinking of the hurt at present. I shall 
 manage to see you again to-morrow, to say a final 
 good-by." 
 
 Gordon Clayborne did have an opportunity to 
 repeat his good-by on the morning following. 
 Marjorie promised not to forget him ; she agreed 
 to write to him ; and then they were separated by 
 that relentless destiny which so constantly comes 
 into the lives of human beings, and drives them 
 apart just when they would ask for a little more 
 indulgence in the way of time. 
 
 Miss Ware went with the general to Washing 
 ton, and the wound in Gordon's arm did not pre-
 
 A SUDDEN PARTING 113 
 
 vent him from riding away with his company. 
 The limb was quite stiff for a week, and though 
 he made no complaint, he was obliged to favor it. 
 And if he had received any deeper wounds, he 
 managed to hide them also; for no man in the 
 regiment was of lighter heart or more joyous cour 
 age than Gordon Clayborne.
 
 CHAPTER IX 
 
 A FEW OLD LETTERS 
 
 DURING the summer and the winter which fol 
 lowed, the only record I have of Captain Gor 
 don Clayborae's acquaintance with Miss Marjorie 
 Ware is contained in some letters. 
 
 These letters are penned in the bold, firm hand 
 of a young man, and in the more delicate writ 
 ing of a young woman. As they were found tied 
 together in one package, it is with a feeling of 
 some delicacy that I undo the knot which binds 
 them, because the very nature of a written paper 
 sent under seal suggests a confidential communi 
 cation. Letters are rarely intended for other eyes 
 than of those to whom they are addressed. But in 
 this instance, these epistles of youthful friendship 
 are used to complete and fill out the thread of the 
 narrative; so I untie the ribbon and place the 
 contents of the letters before the reader's eye. 
 
 The ribbon that was wound about this little 
 packet has long since faded beyond all recogni 
 tion of its original hue, the paper is yellow, and 
 the ink is dim ; the man's hand which wrote the 
 lines has now laid aside the sword, and the soft 
 brown hair of the girl is a softer gray; but the
 
 A FEW OLD LETTERS 115 
 
 hearts that dictated the letters are as warm to-day 
 as they were then, for years cannot dim nor age 
 wither the true spirit of life. 
 
 ARMY OF THE TENNESSEE, September , 1862. 
 
 MY DEAR Miss WARE, After you left Mem 
 phis, and I saw the steamer go off up the river, 
 I went back to camp, feeling as deep a blue as 
 the color of a riding-costume I had known. I do 
 not know what I should have done, if I had been 
 obliged to remain long in Memphis after you left 
 it. I had not realized before how dreadfully unin 
 teresting the town was, and how wearisome garri 
 son life could be. The city seemed pleasant while 
 you were in it ; life in the camp was not dull. 
 
 I rejoiced greatly when I was sent off to rejoin 
 my regiment. I should have written you before, 
 but two things prevented. Almost immediately I 
 was ordered to go upon a small expedition to the 
 Tennessee River. I had an accident at the very 
 start. I am an unlucky fellow, but I am evidently 
 destined to die by neither the bullet nor by water. 
 This time I was in the water so long that a chill 
 resulted, and I was laid up in the hospital for sev 
 eral weeks. 
 
 We have also had a skirmish. It was a small 
 affair. You will hardly have seen it mentioned 
 in the papers. 
 
 There are rumors that another battle will be 
 fought soon. I saw General Grant yesterday, rid 
 ing about the fortifications. I see him frequently
 
 116 THE CLAYBORNES 
 
 engaged in inspecting our defenses, and in battle 
 he is always where the " firing is heaviest ; " yet 
 some people who remain in Washington, and who 
 are themselves more familiar with the smell of a 
 whiskey flask than they are with the smell of gun 
 powder, still declare that he is incompetent, and 
 that he drinks. If you meet any of these villifiers, 
 just give them a piece of your mind in your most 
 emphatic manner. 
 
 I hope that I shall soon hear from you, and 
 that you will tell me how you like Washington, 
 what you are doing, how you are ; and how 
 " Dolly " is. Do you take a daily canter on the 
 pretty filly ? I shall never forget our rides about 
 Memphis. I miss those rides very much. It was 
 such a great pleasure for me to take them, that I 
 shall always think kindly of the bullet which put 
 me on the hospital list and made those rides pos 
 sible. I do not know when you and I shall meet 
 again, but I feel sure that I shall certainly see 
 you again some day. In the mean time I shall do 
 my best to be worthy of your friendship. To pos 
 sess your regard and esteem will always be the 
 ambition of 
 
 Your sincere friend, 
 
 GORDON CLAYBORNE. 
 
 WASHINGTON, D. C., September , 1862. 
 
 MY DEAR MR. CLAYBORNE, I read about the 
 battle in the newspapers, and before then I had 
 heard something about you. I was beginning to
 
 A FEW OLD LETTERS 117 
 
 wonder why I had heard nothing from you, for 
 you had declared so positively that you were going 
 to write me at once. I will confess that I was 
 somewhat piqued at the thought that you should 
 have so soon forgotten me, when one day I picked 
 up a newspaper and learned all about the " acci 
 dent " of which your letter brings me such meagre 
 news. Luckily the newspaper correspondent, who 
 signs himself B. C. and who is evidently a man of 
 discernment, gives the world a true account of your 
 accident ; and lest you are not informed as to the 
 facts of the case, I send you the clipping from the 
 paper, so that you may read Mr. B. C.'s own words. 
 "On the night of August a small body of 
 men were sent out to make a reconnoissance on 
 the eastern side of the Tennessee River. The party 
 was in command of Major Rand, and consisted of 
 Companies D and K, 1st Cavalry, the latter com 
 pany under the command of Captain Gordon Clay- 
 borne. While in the act of embarking upon a 
 small steamboat, Major Rand slipped from the 
 gang-plank and fell between the steamer and the 
 river bank. The gap into which the unfortunate 
 officer fell was barely two feet wide, with a con 
 siderable current running through it. The night 
 was so intensely dark, that although lanterns were 
 at once lowered no trace of Major Rand could be 
 discovered, and as no cries came up from the black 
 crevice at their feet, his comrades feared that he 
 had been stunned by the fall and carried off down 
 the river by the current.
 
 118 THE CLAYBORNES 
 
 " The engineer was on the point of starting the 
 boat from the shore in order that a final but 
 almost hopeless search might be made for the miss 
 ing man, when Captain Clayborne, the second in 
 command, came upon the scene. He instantly for 
 bade the engineer to move lest the paddle-wheels 
 strike and crush the unfortunate officer, and with 
 out more ado swung himself down into the water. 
 The captain dove under the boat several times. 
 He remained for so long a time under water that 
 those above began to fear that they had lost both 
 of their officers, when he finally reappeared with 
 the major's body in his arms. Ropes were lowered, 
 and the rescuer and rescued were quickly drawn 
 to the river bank, where Captain Clayborne sank 
 down utterly exhausted. 
 
 " It seems that Major Rand had been stunned 
 by his sudden fall and had drifted into the paddle- 
 wheel. But for the quick decision and heroic 
 action of his subordinate officer he would never 
 again have been seen alive. Both he and the 
 captain were finally resuscitated and taken back 
 to camp, where the former was soon as well as 
 ever. The captain, however, whose constitution 
 had been somewhat weakened by a recent wound, 
 is now lying in a hospital suffering with a cold 
 and fever brought on by his tremendous exer 
 tion and his long exposure in the water. If he 
 recovers it is thought that Congress will reward 
 such bravery by promotion or by the presentation 
 of an appropriate medal."
 
 A FEW OLD LETTERS 119 
 
 This is what I read, Captain Clayborne, a short 
 graphic account of your " accident." The writer 
 does not use any superfluous words in recounting 
 it. He merely relates the facts as they were, in 
 terse, journalistic style ; but those of us who can 
 read between the lines can see the dark abyss, with 
 its cold, seething water; can hear the shouts of 
 excitement ; can feel the fear and the despair at 
 the thought that a fellow creature's life is in 
 jeopardy. Then we can see the man of calm 
 courage throw himself down into the black chasm 
 to risk his life for another. Our hearts stand still 
 at his daring, then throb with apprehension, for he 
 also seems to be lost in the flood. We count the 
 seconds ; they seem to lengthen into an eternity 
 of suspense until finally he does return to us bear 
 ing the form of the man he has saved. I am 
 proud of you, Captain Gordon Clayborne, and I 
 am proud of your friendship and of your regard. 
 
 Believe me always your sincere friend, 
 
 MAEJORIE WAKE. 
 
 P. S. Yes, " Dolly" is as dear a little creature 
 as ever. I am sure she does not forget the many 
 pleasant rides we had last summer, nor the kind 
 friend who fed her lumps of sugar. 
 
 ARMY OF THE TENNESSEE, October , 1862. 
 MY DEAR Miss WARE, I cannot tell you on 
 such poor paper how great a pleasure your letter 
 gave me.
 
 120 THE CLAYBORNES 
 
 Although you greatly exaggerated my adventure, 
 it makes me glad that your warm, generous nature 
 does exaggerate the act of one who thinks much 
 more of your approbation than of any applause 
 which he may have received from others. No, I 
 am not the proud possessor of a gold medal from 
 Congress. Neither have I as yet been promoted. 
 The writer of the newspaper article was a Mr. 
 Benjamin Chesterfield, a personal friend of mine, 
 who in the warmth of his heart and the enthusiasm 
 of his friendship magnified my performance of 
 duty into a deed of heroism, but I am none the 
 less grateful to him and to you. If ever I should 
 win any of those laurels which it would be affecta 
 tion for a soldier to belittle, their worth will be 
 enhanced by the thought that they would be 
 valued by one for whom I have such high regard, 
 such sincere admiration, as I have for you. 
 
 How long the time seems to me since I bade 
 you good-by at Memphis ! Since I cannot see 
 you, pray let me hear from you frequently. If I 
 could only tell you what a great source of happi 
 ness, what an event in my life, is the receipt of one 
 of your letters, I am sure you would send them 
 oftener than you do. I think I must have written 
 you two letters for each one received, and I would 
 write more but for fear of wearying you. I regret 
 that I have not been gifted with that eloquence of 
 pen or tongue which some men possess. But per 
 haps it is better for you that nature has denied me 
 these gifts, for if I had them I should use the pen
 
 A FEW OLD LETTERS 121 
 
 in writing constantly to you, and my eloquence 
 would serve to sing your praises. I am, however, 
 but an ordinary mortal, and one who, if he cannot 
 express all he feels, thinks constantly of you. 
 Your devoted friend, 
 
 GORDON CLAYBORNE. 
 
 ARMY OF THE TENNESSEE, February , 1863. 
 
 MY DEAR Miss WARE, What a world of 
 pleasure your letters this winter have given me. 
 What a sustaining force is the sympathy and the 
 encouragement of a good and noble-minded woman. 
 I think you have received all my letters, although 
 there are some one or two which you have not an 
 swered specifically. The winter has been tedious 
 in the extreme. We have camped and lived in 
 rain and mud. We have marched from one place 
 to another. We have made feints of attacking 
 the enemy. He has often threatened us, and there 
 have been some skirmishes, but no real engage 
 ments. Homesickness and disease have disheart 
 ened and worn upon us, but with such cheerful 
 and inspiring letters as yours to enliven me and 
 to support my courage I should be a craven if I 
 despaired. 
 
 Now we are really to move. Yes, the reports in 
 the papers are correct. It is no secret. Vicks- 
 burg is our objective point. When we shall get 
 there I do not know, but I am one of those, and 
 the army is full of them, who trust in the leader, 
 General Grant. He has said : " We cannot go
 
 122 THE CLA.YBORNES 
 
 backward now. There is only one thing to be 
 done, and that is to go forward to decisive vic 
 tory ! " And we shall go forward. He has started 
 all his corps commanders, Sherman, McClernand, 
 and McPherson, on the move, and is setting every 
 one an example in activity himself. He does not 
 travel with a large equipment of personal baggage. 
 He puts his old brier pipe, a pouch of tobacco, and 
 a toothbrush in his pocket and is off to the front. 
 That 's the kind of a general he is. What a man 
 he is ! I remember once after a hot day's battle 
 he happened to ride out near our regiment. Every 
 one recognized him at once on his cream-colored 
 horse "Jack." The boys all surrounded him, cry 
 ing out for a speech. 
 
 The general, who is not afraid of any living 
 thing, actually seemed embarrassed. 
 
 " You '11 have to make them a speech, General, 
 to get rid of them," prompted Rawlins. General 
 Grant hesitated a moment and then said : 
 
 " Soldiers, I thank you. That is all I can say. 
 You 've done a good day's work to-day, but you will 
 have to do a better one to-morrow." 
 
 And they did do better work the next day. 
 
 There is not one of us who would not follow him 
 anywhere ; so you may be sure all those who can 
 keep up will get to Vicksburg. 
 
 I do not know when I shall ever see you again. 
 The end of the war seems so far in the future I 
 dare not look for it. But no matter how long the 
 years are, I shall never forget you. I think of you
 
 A FEW OLD LETTERS 123 
 
 at all times as the little girl who has added so 
 much to my life. Softly to myself I call you " my 
 little comrade." You will let me continue to do 
 this, will you not ? When the war is over I shall 
 find you again, and throughout all the intervening 
 years I shall remain 
 
 Your true and devoted friend, 
 
 GORDON CLAYBORNE. 
 
 WASHINGTON, D. C., February , 1863. 
 
 MY DEAR MR. CLAYBORNE, I am glad that my 
 letters have been cheerful and have been a help to 
 you this winter. I have felt so helpless myself. 
 I have been so unhappy at the thought I was doing 
 so little while others were doing so much more, 
 that your assurance that any poor words of mine 
 have been an encouragement and a sustaining 
 force to one who has been enduring the privations 
 and incurring the dangers of war is balm to my 
 troubled spirit. I have frequently begged my 
 father to allow me to volunteer as a nurse in the 
 field. He has always replied that he could not 
 spare me, that I must stay and look out for him. 
 Indeed, the poor man has been far from well, and 
 I know he has needed me, but I have extracted the 
 promise from him that should he at any time re 
 turn to the front, he will allow me to go as a nurse 
 and do my part of the work as befits a soldier's 
 daughter. He has now recovered much of his 
 former strength, and hopes to be ordered to return 
 to the field, and if not to his place in General
 
 124 THE CLAYBORNES 
 
 Sherman's corps, at least to some position of active 
 service. In that case I shall exact the fulfillment 
 of our agreement, and shall come to the front to 
 nurse the wounded. You can hardly know how 
 much it would mean to me to feel that I should be 
 doing something to help the brave men who have 
 given up everything for their country. 
 
 Oh, Mr. Clayborne, I have sometimes felt so 
 very despondent here in Washington this winter. 
 Perhaps the atmosphere has had something to do 
 with it. There have been so many birds of evil 
 omen flying about, predicting ruin and disaster, 
 that at times I hardly dared lift up my voice. I 
 felt almost wicked to be so faint-hearted, but at 
 times I could not rise above it. But one day I 
 had a lesson which I shall never forget. It was at 
 a reception at the White House, not one of the 
 public receptions, but an evening affair at which 
 the President met the members of his cabinet, the 
 army officers who were in the city at the time, and 
 some of the congressmen. I was there with my 
 father. It was shortly after the horrible Fred- 
 ericksburg disaster, and we were talking about it 
 sadly. The President came into the room, and al 
 though the conversation had been subdued before, 
 by common consent it now seemed to cease, and a 
 hush fell upon the assembly. I shall never forget 
 the expression on Mr. Lincoln's face as he walked 
 across the room to where a group of senators and 
 generals were standing. I stood very near him, 
 and I could not help looking steadily at him. I
 
 A FEW OLD LETTERS 125 
 
 had never dreamed that such sadness could be in 
 any human eyes ; and withal they were so soft, so 
 gentle, so loving that the tears came to my own 
 eyes from very sympathy. Some of the senators 
 were criticising the generals in the field with some 
 justice perhaps, although it seemed hardly fair to 
 speak so severely of men who were not there to 
 defend themselves. Mr. Lincoln listened patiently, 
 now and then putting in a word which I could not 
 catch. Finally one senator he was from one of 
 the large Western States spoke of Grant. He 
 spoke in such an outrageous manner, it made my 
 blood boil to hear him. He said that General 
 Grant was utterly reckless of human life, that he 
 was bloodthirsty, and did not care how many men 
 were killed. He cried out in a loud voice, " The 
 man drinks ; he is unfit to command troops ! " and 
 ended with these words : " Now, Mr. President, 
 there is a large number in Congress clamoring for 
 Grant's removal. Will you not assure us that he 
 will be removed ? " 
 
 " No, sir," was the firm answer. 
 
 " Then, Mr. President, I think it is due to Con 
 gress and the American people to be told why you 
 refuse to remove this man." 
 
 " You can tell all those members of Congress, 
 Mr. Senator," replied Mr. Lincoln in a quiet but 
 so clear a tone as to be heard all over the room, 
 " that the reason I will not remove General Grant 
 is because I rather like the man." 
 
 The senator turned scarlet and left the room in
 
 126 THE CLAYBORNES 
 
 a rage. A few moments later the President was 
 chatting and talking with another group of men 
 and evidently telling some amusing story, but his 
 eyes never lost their look of unutterable sadness 
 and deep, loving sympathy. 
 
 When I went to bed that night I said to myself, 
 *' If the President, who has such overpowering bur 
 dens upon his shoulders, can bear up under them 
 and not lose hope and faith and courage, surely 
 I am a little coward to give way to doubt and 
 despair. I will do so no more." 
 
 I have felt better since that night. With the 
 new year came the Emancipation Proclamation. I 
 think that was the greatest document the world 
 has ever seen. And now I have got a position 
 as hospital nurse here in Washington, I shall do 
 what I can, and I shan't despair any more, and I 
 know we shall win. Perhaps later, if I come to 
 the front I shall see you, Mr. Clayborne, and you 
 can really call me a " comrade," as you did in one 
 of your letters. 
 
 Always your sincere friend, 
 
 MAEJOEIE WARE.
 
 CHAPTER X 
 
 BENJAMIN CHESTERFIELD, NON-COMBATANT 
 
 BENJAMIN CHESTERFIELD, the correspondent of 
 a St. Louis newspaper, had been with the Army 
 of the West since the first clash of arms in Mis 
 souri. The reports he had sent to his paper had 
 been accurate and graphic ; they were the result 
 of his own personal observations at the front. Be 
 fore the trenches at Donelson, when a battalion 
 which had lost its leader was wavering in the fight, 
 Chesterfield looked up coolly from his note-book, and 
 seeing its plight, waved his lead pencil in the air, 
 and with a " Come on, boys, this is the way out," 
 rallied them to the charge. 
 
 At Shiloh, seated on a log in the woods, he had 
 seen two Yankee regiments chased from the field, 
 and a brigade of the enemy dart by him in full 
 pursuit. Chesterfield arose from his seat, stretched 
 his long legs, squared his big shoulders, put his 
 note-book quietly into his pocket, and followed 
 slowly after them. 
 
 Imbued with an ardent love of action and a 
 thirst for adventure, Chesterfield seemed to possess 
 the happy knack of being everywhere and seeing 
 everything ; and although this omnipresent gentle-
 
 128 THE CLAYBORNES 
 
 man sometimes came into possession of important 
 military secrets, such were his good judgment and 
 patriotism that he could be relied upon not to 
 divulge information that would be of value to the 
 enemy, or hamper the plans of the generals in 
 command. 
 
 In the early spring of '63 Grant still had the 
 Vicksburg problem to solve. 
 
 As to what that problem was the country at 
 large knew very little. As to how it should be 
 solved everybody seemed to know a great deal ; as 
 to how Grant intended to solve it nobody knew at 
 all. Therefore everybody clamored for the imme 
 diate solution. 
 
 While digging, dredging, and engineering was 
 going on in the river above Vicksburg, the restless 
 Chesterfield, thinking that it would take some time 
 for the bottom of the Mississippi to be scooped up, 
 took the boat one day and started off up the river 
 to Memphis. Chesterfield was one of the few, be 
 side the President of the United States, who 
 thought that General Grant knew what he was 
 about, and was satisfied to await the developments 
 which time would bring forth. But he was not 
 satisfied to wait in idleness. He had to be doing 
 something, so he started off on an exploit of his 
 own. What his particular plan was is unimpor 
 tant, because it never matured. He got off the 
 steamer at Memphis, leaving it to continue on its 
 way to St. Louis, while he put up for the night 
 at a hotel.
 
 BENJAMIN CHESTERFIELD 129 
 
 In the early gray of the next morning, while low, 
 threatening clouds hung along the horizon, big 
 Ben Chesterfield, on a villainous-looking but sturdy 
 little horse, rode out of the town alone. 
 
 The Mississippi River was open all the way up 
 from Vieksburg to St. Louis, and the adjoining 
 country was under control of the United States ; 
 but it was infested with guerrillas who were not 
 always over-scrupulous in their treatment of non- 
 combatants. However, Ben Chesterfield had a 
 disregard for danger in proportion to his size, and 
 this is saying a good deal, for he stood six feet two 
 in his stockings ; and the small, ragged-looking 
 steed he now bestrode could have verified that he 
 sat in the saddle at full two hundred pounds. 
 
 Whither the enterprising Mr. Chesterfield was 
 bound on this April morning is a matter of small 
 concern, because he never reached the intended 
 goal. 
 
 It was getting towards the noon hour, and Ches 
 terfield, jogging along carelessly, with the bridle 
 on the horse's neck, did not see a small wire which 
 had been strung with fell intent across the road. 
 The unmindful rider was just reaching for a pack 
 age of sandwiches in his saddle-bag when the 
 horse stumbled violently, and fell to his knees, 
 throwing the war correspondent forward to the 
 ground. Chesterfield lay quite still with his head 
 in the mud. He had a vague consciousness of 
 some one feeling in his pockets, and of fragments 
 of a conversation going on about him. Gradually
 
 130 THE CLAYBORNES 
 
 he succeeded in collecting his scattered senses, and 
 heard the words : 
 
 " I '11 bet a jew's-harp he 's broke his neck." 
 
 " No, he ain't ; he 's only stunned." 
 
 This reassuring reply seemed to revive the fallen 
 man somewhat, and opening one eye cautiously he 
 allowed it to travel slowly up the leg of a pair of 
 blue overalls, across a butternut shirt, until it rested 
 upon a tow head crowned by a ragged straw hat. 
 
 " Doggone it, if here ain't a bottle of rot-skull," 
 cried a joyful voice. Peeping through his eyelids, 
 Chesterfield saw another and similar figure bend 
 ing over him, holding an old-fashioned musket in 
 one hand, while with the other he searched his 
 pockets. 
 
 " Here, you, let me have that ! " cried one. 
 
 " No, I got it first." 
 
 " But I diskivered him." 
 
 Big Chesterfield rose suddenly to his feet and 
 made a clutch at the two grotesque spectres. He 
 was giddy from his fall ; they both dodged out of 
 his reach, and with a yell sprang away like deer, 
 and were off fifty yards up the road before they 
 turned and looked back at him, panting. 
 
 " Hi, Jotham, you 've dropped the whiskey 
 bottle ; go back and get it." 
 
 " I '11 do no such thing. You go yourself. You 
 diskivered him." 
 
 " I '11 be ' dad-rotted ' if I go ; he 's too big for 
 me to tackle." 
 
 Chesterfield picked up the musket and began to 
 examine it.
 
 BENJAMIN CHESTERFIELD 131 
 
 " Hi, look out thar, he 's going to shoot ! We 'd 
 better tuck our tails an' git." Suiting the action 
 to the words they were off up the road, running like 
 two scared dogs, and driving Chesterfield's horse 
 before them. The correspondent fired the charge 
 of buckshot in their direction, which only served to 
 accelerate their pace, and they were soon lost to 
 sight. 
 
 Left to his own meditation, the correspondent 
 picked up the whiskey flask from the road, brushed 
 the dirt from it, and replaced it in his pocket. The 
 slender wire, stretched across the road a few inches 
 from the ground, and fastened to a sapling on each 
 side of the way, caught his eye. " That comes 
 pretty near making me mad," he said, tearing it 
 up with a vigorous tug. Then he sat down on a 
 stone by the wayside, and taking out his pocket- 
 knife began calmly to scrape off some of the mud 
 with which he was plastered. He had been en 
 gaged in this pastime for about a quarter of an 
 hour when he raised his head to listen intently. 
 His quick ear had caught the sound of galloping 
 hoofs and the snort of a horse. Closing his knife, 
 he put it away and drew the musket to his side. 
 A horseman riding suddenly around a bend in the 
 road saw a figure loom, up before him. With a 
 frightened snort his horse threw himself back on 
 his haunches, with Chesterfield's big form block 
 ing the way. 
 
 " Tell me quickly without stopping to think 
 which side you are for, the Union or Confederate ? "
 
 132 THE CLAYBORNES 
 
 and Chesterfield thrust the musket in the man's 
 face. 
 
 The rider looked along the rusty barrel to the 
 besplashed figure at the other end. 
 
 " Speak quick." 
 
 " I 'in a loyal supporter of the Confederate 
 cause." 
 
 " You 're just the man I 've been waiting for. 
 Get down off that horse." 
 
 " What do you mean ? " was the stammering 
 rejoinder. 
 
 " I mean I 'm delighted to meet the Southern 
 Confederacy on such a fine horse. I '11 take the 
 horse and you can go." 
 
 " Fellow, I 'm bound on important business down 
 the river. Let me pass ! " 
 
 "I am bound on important business myself," 
 replied Chesterfield, " and I need a horse, a nice 
 horse with a glossy mane and long tail. That one 
 you 're on just answers the description, so I '11 
 trouble you to get off and let me mount." Ches 
 terfield tossed the old musket to one side and drew 
 a Colt's revolver. The rider urged his steed for 
 ward, aiming a blow at Chesterfield's head with the 
 butt of his whip. With one hand on the bridle 
 the correspondent stayed the animal's progress 
 while he caught the whip from the man's hand 
 and threw it into a ditch. " Come now, let me 
 coax you from your seat," he said quietly, leveling 
 his weapon. 
 
 The rider was a slender, boyish fellow with a
 
 BENJAMIN CHESTERFIELD 133 
 
 smooth face and a bright eye ; he was also a dis 
 creet young man. He knew he was no match for 
 his large opponent, and slid from his seat with the 
 best grace he could command. " What are you 
 going to do now ? " he asked doggedly, his right 
 hand creeping towards his belt. 
 
 "Hands above your head," was Chesterfield's 
 word of command. 
 
 Cursing his own stupidity at being taken una 
 wares, the young man obeyed. " You 're the first 
 man who ever caught me like this," he growled, as 
 Chesterfield relieved him of his weapons. 
 
 Whistling blithely the cheerful correspondent 
 transferred a pair of pistols to his own belt. 
 
 " I guess that 's all," Chesterfield said, stepping 
 back a pace and still holding the horse by the 
 bridle. " You can have that old musket there by 
 the roadside ; it 's not loaded," he continued. 
 
 " Look a-here," exclaimed the other ; " I don't 
 know who you are or what your game is. I 'm 
 willing to admit that I belong to the Southern 
 Confederacy " 
 
 " You have admitted it," was the rejoinder. 
 
 " Well, I 'm willing to stand by it ; but I 'd 
 have you know that horse is my personal property. 
 It don't belong to the Southern Confederacy. I 
 appeal to you as a gentleman not to rob me of it." 
 
 " I had a horse, my own personal property. I 
 bought him yesterday. He wasn't much to look 
 at, but I was getting attached to him. Half an 
 hour ago he was confiscated by some of 'your
 
 134 THE CLAYBORNES 
 
 people.' I '11 give you a cartel of exchange. 
 When you bring ' Rags ' to me I '11 return your 
 horse. Let us effect the exchange, say at Vicks- 
 burg in ninety days from date." 
 
 " I spoke to you as to a gentleman," replied the 
 other man haughtily. " If you wish I '11 buy my 
 property from you." 
 
 " My dear young rebel, I 'm fond of games, but 
 I don't trade in horses to make money. In this 
 deal I come out ahead, but I solemnly promise to 
 return your horse to you upon receipt of my own. 
 Until then I shall keep yours." 
 
 " But I did not take your horse," answered the 
 Confederate desperately. 
 
 " My dear little reb, you know that in this 
 game we never shoot the man who shot us, but 
 some other fellow. We 're sorry for the other fel 
 low, but we let him have it just the same." 
 
 " I '11 give you two hundred dollars not Con 
 federate bills, but Federal money." 
 
 Chesterfield mounted the horse. 
 
 " Three hundred dollars " 
 
 " That 's too much." 
 
 " I don't care. I want the horse. Name your 
 own price." 
 
 " There must be some extra fine points about 
 this animal which I don't see. I guess I '11 keep 
 him until I discover what they are," and Chester 
 field rode jauntily away, leaving the young man 
 fuming in the middle of the road. 
 
 Chesterfield rode rapidly. The day was fickle,
 
 BENJAMIN CHESTERFIELD 135 
 
 with sharp showers followed by genial sunshine 
 which would last only for a few minutes, when the 
 streaked sky would again become overcast and 
 large drops of rain would patter on the young 
 green of the woods. 
 
 The correspondent's disposition was proof 
 against all conditions of weather. He went blithely 
 forward along a bad road, through a hostile 
 country, with never a thought as to danger or dis 
 comfort. Towards the latter part of the afternoon 
 he recollected he had not dined. His dinner was 
 in the saddle-pouch on " Rag's " back. There were 
 no saddle-bags on the horse which he now bestrode, 
 but a holster for a pistol hung at the saddle-bow. 
 Chesterfield opened it and instead of finding a 
 revolver drew forth a plug of tobacco. " My Con 
 federate friend was traveling with light equip 
 ment and only burdened himself with the necessi 
 ties of life," thought the correspondent as he 
 dropped the plug back into its place. " Well, I 
 can go without eating until " 
 
 " Throw up your hands, young fellow," said a 
 quiet voice so near that it made him start. 
 
 Chesterfield had ridden into an ambush. On 
 each side of the road in front of him stood a man 
 with a rifle leveled at his head. The newspaper 
 correspondent felt himself at a decided disadvan 
 tage. In the words of the gentleman from whom 
 he had so recently parted, he cursed himself for 
 being caught in such an awkward predicament, 
 but he threw up his hands with seeming alacrity.
 
 136 THE CLAYBORNES 
 
 A short pause ensued. The two men holding 
 the game in their hands were in no hurry to force 
 matters to a conclusion, but took their time to 
 survey the man whom they held up. Chesterfield 
 returned their stare with cool composure while 
 he studied them minutely. They were muscular 
 specimens of young manhood with bold and hardy 
 features. Their belts were heavy with knives and 
 pistols, while their shining rifle barrels reflected 
 the care they bestowed upon their weapons. Their 
 whole demeanor showed that they knew how to use 
 these weapons, and Ben Chesterfield knew that if he 
 yielded to the impulse to ride off with a sudden 
 dash, it would be but a short ride and his last one. 
 
 " Young feller," said the walking arsenal on his 
 left hand, " I would like to ask you a few ques 
 tions." His interlocutor was ten years his junior 
 in point of age, but he fingered the trigger of his 
 gun so delicately that Chesterfield had no wish to 
 argue that matter. 
 
 " Spout ahead, old man," he replied cheerfully. 
 " Put me through my catechism." 
 
 " What is your name ? " 
 
 " Benjamin Chesterfield." 
 
 " Where hev yer come from, Mr. Chesterfield ? " 
 
 " From down the river." 
 
 " Where are yer bound for ? " 
 
 " I 'm going up yonder as far as Collier's." 
 
 " Where did you git that hoss ? " 
 
 " This horse ? Why, he 's my horse." 
 
 " How long has he been yer hoss ? "
 
 BENJAMIN CHESTERFIELD 137 
 
 " Oh, about two hours. I got him in a trade 
 down yonder." 
 
 " Which side are you on ? " was the next ques 
 tion in a peremptory tone. 
 
 " Oh, why not put me down a neutral ? " 
 
 " We don't have no such chaps around here, 
 young feller." Then speaking sternly : " You say 
 you come from down the river. Any one might 
 do that. Yer goin' up yonder. Any one might 
 be doin' that. But you 're ridin' a hoss I know. 
 It belongs to a partner of mine. The feller that 
 took him got away with him on a dark night, and 
 there ain't a hoss in the State as can catch up 
 to him. It'll be mighty unhealthy for the man 
 who stole 'Starlight' if we lay hold of him, so 
 you 'd better speak pert." 
 
 Chesterfield felt that much depended upon his 
 next answer. There was no trifling written in the 
 young fellow's eye; he meant every word he ut 
 tered, while the man on the opposite side of the 
 road had for some minutes past been handling 
 his rifle with a manifest impatience which dis 
 turbed even the steady nerves of the war corre 
 spondent. " Gentlemen," he said with sudden 
 frankness, " I don't know who you are. You may 
 be Confederate soldiers. You may be Union 
 scouts. You may be home guards ; but I 'm the 
 correspondent for a Northern newspaper. I am 
 classed under the head of non-combatants, but I 
 can put up a pretty fair fight when the odds are 
 right."
 
 138 THE CLAYBORNES 
 
 "That's all right, young feller, as far as it 
 goes," and the rifle was lowered a little, "but it 
 don't explain about the hoss." 
 
 " If you '11 only ask your comrade to stop finger 
 ing that rifle of his so lovingly, I '11 explain about 
 the horse. Thank you. As I said before, I got 
 this horse in a trade. Some bushrangers relieved 
 me of my own property, and when this handsome 
 animal came cantering down the road I took him 
 to make the trade even." 
 
 " Was n't there anybody on his back ? " 
 
 " There was, a young Confederate ; but as I did 
 not have any need of him I sent him off to look for 
 my nag." 
 
 " If what yer say is true, you 're all right. We 
 won't bother with any war correspondents ; but 
 you '11 hev to prove it 's true first, so yer jest 
 come along with us and see the old man. He '11 
 hev a talk with you, and if you 're the feller that 
 stole that hoss from him, all I can say is, you 're 
 the unluckiest hoss thief I ever seen. It would 
 have been better for yer to have stolen every other 
 hoss in the State of Tennessee than this." 
 
 " I '11 go and see the ' old man ' with the greatest 
 of pleasure," was the cordial reply. 
 
 " You '11 go anyway. Just slide off the hoss. 
 We '11 take charge of him. Bill, you take Dad's 
 hoss and lead the way. This here war corre 
 spondent '11 come right along after you and I '11 be 
 rear guard. Forward march ! " 
 
 Through the bushes and into the woods they
 
 BENJAMIN CHESTERFIELD 139 
 
 plunged. Chesterfield could not see the sign of a 
 path ; yet his captors never hesitated, but pushed 
 on at a rapid gait in silence. 
 
 " I trust that I '11 have no difficulty in convincing 
 the 'old man' as to my spotless character," he 
 mused, " for it might be unpleasant if he insisted 
 upon identifying me as the man who stole ' Star 
 light ' on that dark night." 
 
 The young man in front stopped and held up 
 his hand, then broke the stillness of the woods by 
 giving the shrill cry of the catbird. They waited 
 in silence for a minute. Then came a series of calls 
 with a few moments' interval between them, the 
 first so near at hand that it seemed to come from 
 a thicket at Chesterfield's side ; the others faintly 
 from the distance. "Advance, friend," cried a 
 voice just ahead of them, and Chesterfield's con 
 ductors gave him the word. They went forward, 
 passing a man leaning against a tree. His attitude 
 was careless, and his clothes were rusty, but the 
 barrel of his rifle was as bright as his eye. He 
 had heard them coming long before the signal, and 
 from his position behind the tree had "a bead" 
 upon them all the time. 
 
 " Hello there," cried the sentinel. " Durned if 
 you ain't got Dad's horse. He '11 be mighty glad to 
 see it again. And what else have you got there ? " 
 
 " Young feller says he 's a war correspondent, 
 but we caught him riding the old man's horse, and 
 I reckon the burden '11 be on him to prove he 's 
 all right."
 
 140 THE CLAYBORNES 
 
 " Well, Dad 's pretty riled, that 's all I can say." 
 
 Five minutes later they came to a small clearing 
 in the woods. The smoke from a camp-fire curled 
 lazily through the trees, and the fragrant odor of 
 fried pork assailed Chesterfield's nostrils plea 
 santly. 
 
 His captors stopped him while they repeated the 
 catbird's cry. At the command " Advance ! " they 
 joined a circle of a dozen stalwart young fellows, 
 lying about the fire eating, and talking in low tones. 
 At the side of each man lay the inevitable rifle. 
 
 " Well, Dad, we 've brought your hoss home 
 again," said one of the newcomers quietly. 
 
 " Good for you, Hen," was the rejoinder, as Dad 
 sprang to his feet with the agility of a boy ; "and 
 what the dickens are you doing with this man ? " 
 he exclaimed, hitting Chesterfield a backhander 
 on the chest. The last time I saw him was in 
 Kansas." 
 
 "Williamson," said the latter, "your friends 
 were not sure whether to shoot me for a rebel 
 guerrilla or hang me as a horse thief, so they de 
 cided to let you pass sentence upon me." 
 
 " Dad " Williamson laughed deeply. " Boys," 
 he cried, " this gentleman is Ben Chesterfield from 
 St. Louis. He 's a friend of mine. Chesterfield, 
 these are my boys," and the Union scout waved 
 his hand around the circle. " These are my young 
 sters. They are a worthless lot," he continued, 
 looking about him affectionately, " They can't do 
 very much except fight and get killed ; but they
 
 BENJAMIN CHESTERFIELD 141 
 
 can shoot straight, Chesterfield, and they 're true 
 blue, and you can just tie to any one of them." 
 
 The "youngsters," bearded men all of them, 
 stretched their sturdy limbs before the fire in ap 
 preciation of their chief's compliment. 
 
 Five years before, Chesterfield had passed a 
 winter evening with Williamson before a blazing 
 camp-fire. The two men had taken to each other 
 at that time ; and although the intervening years 
 had never brought them together, they now sat 
 down side by side on a log, to share a piece of 
 brown fat pork like two old friends. 
 
 Daniel Williamson, " Dad," or the " old man," as 
 he was called by those who knew him, was about 
 thirty-five, with a beard as black as a raven's wing. 
 Chesterfield rarely met a man larger than himself, 
 but " Dad " Williamson, broader of shoulder and 
 deeper of chest, could look over the big correspond 
 ent's head. 
 
 Living over the border in Kentucky, William 
 son had been one of those who had fought for the 
 " Union " even before the war. They had saved 
 their State from the South ; yet when the war broke 
 out the country where Williamson lived was as 
 much divided in sentiment as it was before. " Dad " 
 took his rifle from the wall, called a number of his 
 own ilk about him, and together they carried on 
 a warfare of their own. All through Kentucky 
 and Tennessee they hunted and were hunted, turn 
 and turn about, now chasing a band of rebel 
 guerrillas through the woods, now piloting Federal
 
 142 THE CLAYBORNES 
 
 prisoners over the mountains, now fleeing from 
 Morgan and his raiders. Pitted against men as 
 reckless and fearless as themselves, they fought the 
 war out in their own sweet way. Armed to the 
 teeth, they never laid their weapons aside during 
 day or night. Like the border riders of old, who 
 " carved at the meal with gloves of steel and 
 drank the red wine through the helmet barred," 
 Williamson and his band slept in their boots with 
 their rifles by their sides, and cut up their fried 
 pork with their bowie-knives. 
 
 " This is the way we live, Chesterfield. Don't 
 you want to join us ? There ain't as much glory 
 in it as writing glowing accounts of victories for 
 the newspapers, but there 's lots more fun," and 
 " Dad " Williamson laughed gleefully. His name 
 was notorious in Richmond as a bushwhacker and 
 Federal scout, and there was a price set upon his 
 head. This fact added to the fun. 
 
 " Certainly I '11 join you," replied the corre 
 spondent, taking a large piece of pork on the end 
 of a pointed stick. " I appreciate the fun much 
 better now than I did earlier in the day when two 
 of your ' youngsters ' were threatening my poor 
 brains." 
 
 " They took you for the rebel who stole my 
 horse. Tell me where you came across the ani 
 mal." 
 
 Chesterfield gave a detailed account of the inci 
 dent. During the recital " Dad " Williamson's 
 bright eyes snapped with suppressed excitement.
 
 BENJAMIN CHESTERFIELD 143 
 
 " Why in thunder, Chesterfield," he cried, as 
 the latter finished, " did n't you hold the rascal ? " 
 
 " You forget, I did not know whose horse it 
 was, and I am a non-combatant." 
 
 " Non-combatant be bio wed, Chesterfield ; in 
 cases of emergency you should never let that stand 
 in your way. You '11 miss lots of fun and many 
 an opportunity to do a service to your country." 
 
 " I never will again, Williamson, but I thought 
 I was rather hard on the fellow, as it was, taking 
 such a fine horse." 
 
 " Fine horse, I should say it was. You should 
 have seen the slick way in which that rebel got 
 away with him. I was a gum-headed sojer to let 
 him do it. It riles me to think of it," and reach 
 ing down into his trousers' pocket Dad William 
 son took out a small end of a tobacco plug, and 
 solaced himself with a chew. " That 's all the 
 tobacco there is in this camp," he said, with a sigh, 
 as he offered half of it to Chesterfield. " What, 
 you don't use it ? " he continued wrapping the 
 precious end in a piece of paper and putting it 
 carefully away. " I feel mighty mean hanging on 
 to this when all those boys have their hungry eyes 
 on it, but it 's too small to be divided among 'em." 
 
 " That reminds me," exclaimed Chesterfield. 
 " Where 's the saddle of your horse ?" 
 
 " Henry, fetch that saddle over to Mr. Chester 
 field." 
 
 " Thank you," said Chesterfield, feeling in the 
 holsters. " Here is something you will like," and
 
 144 THE CLAYBORNES 
 
 he drew forth a large slab of Carolina plug neatly 
 wrapped up in tinfoil. 
 
 " What," exclaimed Williamson, " you give this 
 all to me?" 
 
 " Every ounce of it." 
 
 " Boys, see what my friend has done for us. 
 Chesterfield, in the name of suffering humanity, I 
 thank you. Now, boys, we '11 divide fair. I '11 
 take a bite first and pass the plug around in the 
 order of seniority, Bill next, Hen third." 
 
 Tearing away the tinfoil, " Dad " thrust the bar 
 of tobacco into his capacious mouth and took a 
 generous bite. His firm white teeth had hardly 
 begun their work of mastication when he stopped, 
 removed the quid from his mouth, and going up 
 close to the fire examined it critically by the flick 
 ering light. His companions, who had crowded 
 about him expectantly, viewed this action with sur 
 prise and some signs of alarm. 
 
 " What 's the matter ? " faltered one burly fol 
 lower with consternation written upon his face. 
 " There ain't nothing wrong with the tobacco, is 
 there, Dad ? " 
 
 " The tobacco 's all right," answered Dad Wil 
 liamson slowly. 
 
 There was a general sigh of relief. 
 
 " But there 's the all-firedest queer mixture in 
 with it," and he carefully unrolled a piece of thin 
 tissue paper which was embedded in the leaf of the 
 plug. Spreading this out on his knee, he exam 
 ined it intently with his keen eyes. " Hen, hold a
 
 BENJAMIN CHESTERFIELD 145 
 
 lighted pine-knot here, lad. I think there 's some 
 writin' on this. Hold it a little nearer. Don't 
 set fire to the blamed thing. That 's right." Dad 
 Williamson's eyes snapped as he deciphered the 
 small and delicately traced characters. He rose 
 up from the fire bristling with excitement like a 
 hunting-dog when he scents the quarry. 
 
 " Boys," he said quickly, " this is the best piece 
 of luck yet. I 'm on the trace of the fellow that 
 stole my hoss, and when I get him I '11 get some 
 thing a darn sight better," and he chuckled to 
 himself. 
 
 " What 's written on the paper, Dad ? " inquired 
 Bill. 
 
 " Wait a minute, boys, and let the old man 
 think," replied Williamson, standing before the 
 fire with his brows knitted and his great black 
 beard on his chest. He kept perfectly still for 
 thirty seconds. At the end of that time he slapped 
 his thigh with decision. 
 
 " Bill Brown," he said, " I '11 leave you to look 
 after the boys for the next few days. You know 
 what to do. Join Wood at Wilson's Ford. I '11 
 try to be there by Thursday. Take all the boys 
 with you, but don't let any more of 'em get killed 
 than is absolutely necessary. Morgan's gang is 
 about and they 're stronger than you are, so you 'd 
 better keep away from 'em ; but if they should get 
 up to you, I hope you '11 kill a few of them before 
 they capture you." 
 
 " I reckon we '11 do our levelest, Dad."
 
 t 
 
 146 THE CLAYBORNES 
 
 " That 's all the instructions I can think of now," 
 said Williamson. " Henry, saddle ' Starlight ' and 
 two of the other horses. I '11 take you and Mr. 
 Chesterfield along with me. Hey, Chesterfield, 
 what do you say? You 've only ridden forty miles 
 to-day. You 're good for another twenty, I know." 
 
 Ben Chesterfield, never backward when there 
 was any adventure on foot, acquiesced with 
 alacrity. 
 
 " That 's splendid," exclaimed Williamson, who, 
 gay as a lark, was buckling on his pistol belt. 
 
 " What arms are you going to take ? " asked 
 the non-combatant cheerfully. 
 
 " Oh, put a couple of six-shooters in your belt. 
 Now be good boys till I see you again," Dad called 
 out, as he swung into the saddle. " Come on, 
 Benjamin," and the two big fellows rode off 
 through the woods toward the highway, with Henry 
 at their heels. 
 
 " It 's the richest of luck," explained Dad Wil 
 liamson to the correspondent as they cantered 
 along the road. " That letter was written by one 
 of Bragg's scouts. It gives valuable information 
 about our troops, which old Bragg would give his 
 whiskers to receive," and Dad chuckled again. 
 
 " But where are we going ? " inquired Chester 
 field. 
 
 " The best of it is," Williamson went on to say, 
 " that the letter ends up with : ' I shall await your 
 reply before going down the river. Send instruc 
 tions to the same place> and if I am away I will
 
 BENJAMIN CHESTERFIELD 147 
 
 arrange to have them reach me.' You remember 
 where you held up this young fellow. Well, two 
 miles farther up the road is the house of one Wil 
 liam Todd. I have suspected him for some time 
 as being up to some cute business, although he 
 always shouts with the largest crowd. I '11 bet a 
 plug of tobacco to a brass buckle that his house is 
 the ' same place." 1 And we '11 find the messenger 
 there who was to have carried this message to 
 Bragg. He won't carry it, but if we 're spry, we '11 
 get him, and somebody else will carry some sort of 
 a message and maybe pick up some little crumbs of 
 information in return. That 's the reason I took 
 Henry." 
 
 " Rather dangerous for Henry, is n 't it ? " asked 
 Chesterfield, with a side glance at the quiet face of 
 that young man. 
 
 " Well, I reckon so," answered Henry, speaking 
 for himself, " but we 've all got kinder used to 
 these things now." 
 
 Dad Williamson cantered a few lengths ahead, 
 and called out in a warning tone : " We come to a 
 stream here. Take the ford carefully, for the water 
 is high." Chesterfield went in after him, and 
 spurring through the foaming stream got safely 
 across. /lust as he emerged from the water on the 
 opposite bank, a roll of thunder greeted his ear, 
 while a fork of lightning flashed across the 
 heavens. 
 
 "We'll get that a little later," he muttered, 
 looking up at the threatening sky.
 
 CHAPTER XI 
 CHESTERFIELD'S CAPTIVE 
 
 AN hour later the three men dismounted at a 
 short distance from a large house. The wind was 
 blowing heavily ; fierce gusts whirling from all 
 points of the compass at once, swaying the tree- 
 tops madly and tossing their branches in all direc 
 tions ; howling around the house, and making the 
 hinges of a dilapidated barn door creak frantically. 
 The horses cowered before the gale, and even the 
 stout-hearted Henry bent his head as he stood 
 holding his horse by the bridle. 
 
 " That 's Todd's house," said Dad Williamson. 
 " Now do you mind running a little risk, Chester 
 field?" 
 
 " I 'm a non-combatant," replied Benjamin, 
 " but I don't mind getting into a scrimmage if it 
 can't be avoided. What do you want me to do? " 
 
 " I want you to go right into the house." 
 
 Chesterfield took out a six-shooter from his belt, 
 tossed the bridle of his horse to Henry, and pre 
 pared himself for the attack. 
 
 " Not that way," said Dad, laying a restraining 
 hand upon his arm. "You can put up your shoot 
 ing-iron for a while and listen to my project,
 
 CHESTERFIELD'S CAPTIVE 149 
 
 although I say beforehand I may be all off in my 
 calculations. But if I am right, and Todd's house 
 is the place of meeting of these Confederate spies, 
 then one of them at least is likely to be here now. 
 That 's the young feller that allowed himself the 
 privilege of riding my horse." 
 
 " But he will recognize me if I go in there." 
 
 " Of course he will, and he '11 want to get the 
 horse back, won't he ? Because it 's a mighty fine 
 animal, and he probably got into the habit of 
 thinking it was his. Now, according to my idea 
 there 's two of these fellows. If they 're both in 
 side, well and good. You give the signal ; Hen and 
 I '11 come in and bag them. But if the second fellow 
 is n 't there, if he 's expected and comes up this 
 road to-night ; Hen and I, on the lookout outside 
 the house, will have him sure. It is n 't likely any 
 one will get in or out of that house without our 
 taking him." 
 
 Chesterfield acquiesced. 
 
 " Now we '11 reconnoitre a bit," said William 
 son. " Hen, tie the horses as much in the shelter 
 of those bushes as you can ; it looks as if we might 
 have a storm to-night." Even as he spoke great 
 drops of rain began to fall. The two large men 
 stole silently forward. They found the barn to be 
 a large ramshackle building, one part lacking a 
 roof, and the other full of cracks and crevices. 
 Williamson cautiously opened the door, which 
 swung on one hinge. As he did so, a yellow cur 
 ran, yelping, to cower under a wagon in the corner,
 
 150 THE CLAYBORNES 
 
 and a horse poked his nose over the manger with 
 a whinny. The noise of the tempest drowned all 
 minor sounds, so there was little fear of alarming 
 the house. 
 
 " Whoever rode this horse has been in the house 
 some little time, for the creature is perfectly dry 
 and as clean as a bone," said Chesterfield, running 
 his hand along the animal's flank. 
 
 " He 's a different breed from those two nags 
 in the end stalls ; they 're poor cattle," said Wil 
 liamson. " Look at this saddle. It 's fine and 
 new, while all the others are worn-out things. One 
 of our gentlemen is in that house, Chesterfield, as 
 sure as fighting." 
 
 " Probably both of them are," replied the cor 
 respondent, "for the one I held up doubtless had 
 to come on foot." 
 
 " You 're likely more than half right. I '11 leave 
 you to go in and find out. If there 's only one 
 besides Todd, tap once on the pane of the kitchen 
 window ; if you find there are two, tap a second 
 time. Either Hen or I will hear you, and we '11 
 round 'em up in no time." 
 
 " I understand perfectly," replied Chesterfield. 
 
 " One thing more," whispered Dad : " we must 
 capture all their papers ; don't let them get a 
 chance to hide or destroy them." 
 
 " I understand." 
 
 " All right, now go ahead," said Dad William 
 son, placing himself where he could command the 
 house door and the road.
 
 CHESTERFIELD'S CAPTIVE 151 
 
 Silently and quickly, Chesterfield walked to 
 wards the house. A single light showed from one 
 of the lower windows ; the rest of the building was 
 clothed in darkness. Chesterfield laid his hand 
 upon the latch. He expected to find the door 
 bolted, but to his surprise it yielded to the pressure, 
 and he entered the room. 
 
 A man with dark matted hair, and face red with 
 exposure to the sun and wind, half rose from his 
 seat at table with an exclamation ; an older man 
 by the fire let a plate of food, which he had been 
 preparing, fall to the floor. 
 
 " Darn it," he said, " how you startled me ! 
 Who are you, and what do you want ? " 
 
 " What would any man want on a night like this 
 but a chance to dry himself by the fire ? " replied 
 the correspondent, shaking the rain from his hat. 
 
 The man at the table had regained his self-pos 
 session instantly. " Well, don't stand with the 
 door open, but come up to the fire." Both he and 
 Chesterfield, with affected unconcern, had been ey 
 ing each other like two wary dogs, each taking 
 the other's measure. 
 
 " You 're not the man I expected to find," 
 thought Chesterfield, as he took up his station in 
 front of the grateful blaze, removed his coat, and 
 hung it over the back of a chair. The man at the 
 table resumed his meal. He had a heavy jaw 
 made black with a three days' growth of beard ; 
 from out his deep-set eyes he continued to watch 
 the newcomer closely, his suspicions, always alert, 
 aroused to a high pitch.
 
 152 THE CLAYBORNES 
 
 Meanwhile the correspondent stood jauntily in 
 front of the fire, a smile lighting up his counte 
 nance, while his wet clothing steamed vigorously. 
 
 " Would you have any objection," he said plea 
 santly, " to my joining you at supper ? I 've brought 
 in a devouring appetite out of the storm." 
 
 " I 've no objection, if Todd will give it to you," 
 was the reply. 
 
 " Will you be so good, Mr. Todd ? " asked Ches 
 terfield, without more ado taking a seat at the end 
 of the table where he could command a view of the 
 whole room. 
 
 " No, I ain't got no supper for you," was the 
 gruff rejoinder. 
 
 " I '11 pay you for it," answered Chesterfield 
 pleasantly, taking a copper cent from his pocket 
 and snapping it against the window-pane. 
 
 " What was that ? " exclaimed the man at the 
 other end of the table, rising from his seat. 
 
 " Perhaps it 's the storm," said Chesterfield. 
 
 " It sounded like some one tapping on the 
 glass," replied the other going to the window. A 
 vivid flash of lightning greeted him, following it 
 came a crash of thunder. " It 's not a fit night 
 for even a dog to be out," he muttered, resuming 
 his seat at the table. 
 
 " Stranger," he said aloud, with a show of af 
 fability, " as we seem destined to pass the evening 
 together it might be agreeable to know a little 
 more about each other. My name is Markley. 
 When the war broke out I did n't enlist "
 
 CHESTERFIELD'S CAPTIVE 153 
 
 this with a laugh and shrug " but I suppose 
 you did." 
 
 " Well, Mr. Markley, in disordered times like 
 these, when it is impossible to tell friend from foe, 
 it behooves us to deal frankly with one another. I 
 am a correspondent for a St. Louis newspaper." 
 
 Chesterfield, in telling the exact truth, hardly 
 expected to be believed, and he saw the expression 
 of doubt on Markley's face. The correspondent 
 arose, got his coat from the back of the chair, and 
 slipped it on. As he did so a package of letters fell 
 from the pocket. He picked them up and thrust 
 them carelessly back, apparently unconscious that 
 the other man eyed them with greedy curiosity. 
 
 Markley shifted his feet uneasily. He more 
 than mistrusted this huge stranger who had ap 
 peared so suddenly and unexpectedly out of the 
 storm. He suspected him as an enemy. He longed 
 to take possession of the package he had seen. 
 
 For the twentieth time he measured Chesterfield 
 with his eye. It would be folly to try to over 
 come such an antagonist single-handed. Markley 
 did not lack courage, but he also possessed discre 
 tion. Todd could be of no aid. He must get as 
 sistance elsewhere. He knew where to seek it, but 
 it would necessitate a half-mile ride in the storm. 
 He looked across the table at Chesterfield, who was 
 contentedly smoking his pipe. Markley arose from 
 his seat. " I 'm going to the stable to look after 
 my horse, Todd." 
 
 Chesterfield did not move, and Markley went
 
 154 THE CLAYBORNES 
 
 out of the door, and running with his head down 
 before the pelting rain made for the barn. 
 
 " The devil himself must be about to-night," he 
 muttered, as a deafening crash of thunder seemed 
 to shake the earth. 
 
 A pair of long arms encircled him, and he felt 
 himself held as if in the hug of a grizzly bear, 
 while his arms were fastened behind. 
 
 " Bring the lantern here, Hen," said a voice. 
 
 Markley knew that he was caught in a trap. 
 Resistance was useless. " What do you want with 
 me ? " he asked huskily. 
 
 " I 'm going to take you a prisoner. Hen ! bring 
 up the horses." 
 
 " I reckon I '11 go quietly enough, but I only 
 ask one thing, stranger." 
 
 "What is it?" 
 
 " Unloose my hand so I can get a chew of 
 tobacco." 
 
 Dad Williamson hung the lantern upon a nail, 
 carefully removed the revolver from the man's 
 belt, and then untied one of his hands. 
 
 " Thank you," he replied gratefully, reaching 
 for the plug, and taking what seemed a refresh 
 ing bite. 
 
 " I forgot," exclaimed Dad Williamson, suddenly 
 seizing his prisoner's cheek between his thumb and 
 finger. " Let me have that ! " He forced the man's 
 mouth open and took out a small wad of paper. 
 " I almost lost this through my carelessness," said 
 Dad Williamson, unrolling it and holding it to the 
 light.
 
 CHESTERFIELD'S CAPTIVE 155 
 
 " You 're too all-fired smart," exclaimed the 
 prisoner, with an oath. 
 
 Dan chuckled. " Hen, have you got the horses ? " 
 
 Meanwhile Chesterfield, knocking the ashes 
 out of his pipe, addressed Todd urbanely. " Mr. 
 Todd, I 'm waiting for a piece of that succulent 
 fried chicken." 
 
 " I have n't any chicken for you. I don't keep 
 a hotel." 
 
 " Todd," asked Chesterfield suddenly, " who is 
 upstairs ? " 
 
 Todd was startled. He opened his mouth, but 
 the reply faltered on his lips. 
 
 " Don't tell me I did not hear some one walk 
 ing above our heads," said Chesterfield, " because 
 the boards are loose and they squeak." 
 
 " Perhaps it was the rats," suggested Todd. 
 
 " No, it was not rats," replied Chesterfield firmly. 
 
 " It must have been my daughter, then," said 
 Todd in a deprecatory tone. 
 
 " I thought you were a bachelor." 
 
 " A widower, sir." 
 
 " Are those your daughter's boots, Mr. Todd ? " 
 inquired Chesterfield pointing to a corner near the 
 fire. They were gentlemen's riding-boots of the 
 finest make, and of small proportions. The man 
 who owned them must have been a dapper youth, 
 and somewhat vain of his small feet. The boots 
 were splashed with mud and water. 
 
 " Those are my son's boots." 
 
 " Is your son in the house ? "
 
 156 THE CLAYBORNES 
 
 " No, he is away from home." 
 
 But the boots are wet, Mr. Todd." 
 
 " So they are, so they are. My daughter must 
 have been wearing them." 
 
 " I should like to see the young lady," said 
 Chesterfield with animation, rising suddenly from 
 the table. 
 
 Todd placed himself in front of the door which 
 opened on the stairs. " Will you not respect the 
 sanctity of my home ? " 
 
 " But I was so certain that you were a bachelor, 
 Todd." 
 
 " No, sir, a wid " 
 
 Chesterfield had gently lifted him from his feet 
 and put him away from the door. " I really must 
 see this mysterious daughter of yours," with his 
 hand upon the latch. 
 
 Todd caught the correspondent by the sleeve, 
 and held on with a tenacity surprising for one of 
 his years. Chesterfield disengaged himself from 
 the old man's grasp. 
 
 " A most remarkable and interesting daughter, 
 Todd," he exclaimed, and dashed up the stairway. 
 
 The weak-kneed Todd hesitated a moment, then 
 fled from the house, exclaiming to himself, " I 
 reckon I 'm safer away out of this." 
 
 On the landing at the head of the stairs were 
 three doors. Chesterfield tried to open the one 
 which he knew must lead to the room over the 
 kitchen ; but as he expected he found it locked. 
 He threw himself against it with his full weight,
 
 CHESTERFIELD'S CAPTIVE 157 
 
 broke through with a crash, and fell headlong in a 
 room of darkness. A peal of thunder shook the 
 whole house at the same instant, and a vivid flash 
 of lightning revealed to him a long garret half 
 filled with worn-out and discarded pieces of furni 
 ture. In the middle of the room, from behind a 
 pile of boxes, a figure rose to its feet and a pistol 
 was fired point blank at Chesterfield. The bullet 
 flew wide of its mark. In the pitchy darkness 
 that followed the lightning's flash Chesterfield 
 leaped forward. The storm was raging furiously 
 outside, with peal upon peal of thunder. The 
 lightning flashed at intervals of a few seconds, 
 changing the scene from dark to light with blind 
 ing rapidity. In the next flash Chesterfield saw 
 the figure disappear through an open window. 
 He was after it in a trice. A ladder was against 
 the house under the window, but without hesitat 
 ing the tall Chesterfield swung from the sill to 
 the ground just in time to receive plump in his 
 arms the person who had sprung from the ladder. 
 
 " I 've got you tight, my little " he began, 
 then stopped with an exclamation of surprise, for 
 he held a woman in his arms, and she fought him 
 valiantly. " Softly," he said in response to a 
 stinging blow on the side of the head. " You are 
 active. Let me hold your hands. Now the other 
 paw, kitty. Don't scratch." 
 
 She did not cry out, but reserving all her breath 
 and strength, struggled splendidly, bending her 
 supple body this way and that, striking at him
 
 158 THE CLAYBORNES 
 
 like a fierce young tiger-cat. In the flare of the 
 lightning he could see a mass of dark hair and a 
 pair of eyes that blazed at him fiercely. He cap 
 tured both her hands in one of his and held her 
 so she could move neither hand nor foot. She 
 felt her utter helplessness, and ceased to struggle. 
 She did not cry and call him coward, but panted 
 out with all the breath that remained to her: 
 " Now that the man you were after has got away, 
 don't you think you had better let me go ? " 
 
 " Is n't that asking a good deal, seeing I 've had 
 so much trouble to catch you ? " 
 
 " But how long are you going to hold me like 
 this ? It 's very unpleasant for me." 
 
 " While I ponder this matter over. It is very 
 unpleasant for me to think how you have tried to 
 thwart me." 
 
 " I 'm very sorry," and she gave a little low 
 laugh. " Won't you please let me go ? " 
 
 " If you promise not to show any more fight." 
 
 " I promise not to for the present," she re 
 plied. " You see I 'm not a match for you." 
 
 Chesterfield partially released her, but still kept 
 his hand upon her arm. 
 
 " Are you afraid I '11 run away? " she asked. 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 " I '11 promise you I won't." 
 
 Chesterfield's only reply was, " Come with me 
 into the house ; I want to talk with you." 
 
 Taking her by the arm, he led the way toward 
 the kitchen door. She offered no resistance, but 
 went meekly with him.
 
 CHESTERFIELD'S CAPTIVE 159 
 
 The fire burned low on the hearth. Chester 
 field threw in a few large sticks and had a blaze 
 roaring up the chimney. Seating himself on a 
 bench beside it, he held his prisoner off at arms' 
 length, much as one might hold a naughty child, 
 and looked into her face long and steadily. 
 
 She returned his gaze unflinchingly. Her dark 
 hair, which in the struggle had become loosened, 
 lay in rich disorder about her shoulders and over a 
 bosom which rose and fell with suppressed excite 
 ment. Her breath came rather quickly through 
 her parted lips, and a little smile hovered in the 
 corners of her mouth, and was reflected in her 
 eyes with a half-saucy, half-mischievous expres 
 sion. She was a woman who possessed the power 
 of beauty ; glowing, radiant, ardent beauty, and 
 she was fully conscious of her power. 
 
 Chesterfield gave a long low whistle. " I have 
 seen you before," he said. 
 
 She made no reply. 
 
 " You had on boots and trousers," he continued 
 slowly, " and you certainly wore them as if to the 
 manner born ; and now I think you had better 
 give an account of yourself." 
 
 She tossed her head back quickly. " Why 
 should I give an account of myself to you, sir?" 
 
 " Because I demand it." 
 
 " You demand it, and by what right, may I 
 ask?" and her eyes flashed at him indignantly. 
 
 " By the right of might. You are in my power, 
 so you had better answer my questions at once and 
 truthfully."
 
 160 THE CLAYBORNES 
 
 A flush deepened on her warm cheek as she 
 looked into the cool gray eyes that seemed to read 
 her so searchingly; a feeling of uneasiness took 
 possession of her ; for almost the first time in her 
 life she was at a loss for words. 
 
 " You are not polite," she said. 
 
 " No," replied Chesterfield coldly, " I am not 
 polite, but I am curious and you must satisfy my 
 curiosity upon the following points : Who was that 
 man with Todd downstairs ? who are you ? and 
 what were you both doing in the house of this man 
 Todd, whom I know to be a double-faced fellow ? " 
 
 " And if 1 refuse to satisfy your curiosity," 
 she answered pertly. 
 
 " Then you shall have an opportunity to satisfy 
 the curiosity of the Federal commander at Mem 
 phis, for I shall take you there." 
 
 " I will not deny," she went on with a burst of 
 frankness, " that he is an officer in the Confederate 
 army, and that he came here to see me at my 
 uncle's, Mr. William "Todd. The gentleman is not 
 upon furlough, and his interview with me was 
 stolen. Your coming annoyed him and it annoyed 
 me." 
 
 " Is that the reason you tried to shoot me in the 
 garret ? " She did not reply at once, and Ches 
 terfield took up her hand. It was a strong, firm 
 hand, a little brown from exposure to the sun. 
 " That is the hand which pointed a revolver at my 
 head a few minutes ago. So I annoyed you and 
 you tried to kill me," he continued coolly.
 
 CHESTERFIELD'S CAPTIVE 161 
 
 " I thought you wanted to harm him," and the 
 dark lashes veiled the eyes for a moment. 
 
 "Was he afraid?" 
 
 " We are none of us afraid," and she looked up 
 at him proudly. 
 
 Chesterfield looked searchingly into her face as 
 he said calmly, " That man is not your suitor. 
 Todd is not your uncle, and I don't believe a word 
 of your story." 
 
 She shrugged her shoulders. " I 'm sure it does 
 not make any difference to me." 
 
 "But," said Chesterfield, "there is a certain 
 young woman who has had an active career, who 
 has caused much consternation, cutting a wide 
 swath in and outside of the Union lines." 
 
 " I do not understand you. Of what are you 
 accusing me ? " 
 
 " Of nothing," replied Chesterfield, " but I shall 
 have to take you where those who have had the 
 pleasure of knowing that agreeable young person 
 can have an opportunity to recognize her." 
 
 Throughout most of the interview the girl had 
 maintained her composure, meeting Chesterfield's 
 searching inquiry with the assurance of one who 
 feels secure of her position. At these words, spoken 
 with great deliberation, she trembled slightly as if 
 from excitement or fear. When he had finished 
 she hesitated for a moment, as if debating in her 
 mind just what course, to pursue. When she did 
 speak, it was in a quiet and submissive tone of 
 voice.
 
 162 THE CLAYBORNES 
 
 " I do not quite understand you yet, but I do 
 understand that you threaten to carry me away, 
 under the impression that I am some one else. 
 Who is this young woman in question anybody 
 very bad ? " 
 
 "She is a Confederate spy; beautiful, accom 
 plished, clever, and witty, and she has played the 
 very old Ned in more ways than one." 
 
 The girl broke into a melodious laugh. " How 
 absurd, how preposterous ! And you think that I 
 am this creature, this beautiful, accomplished, 
 witty, clever incarnation of wickedness. Really, 
 sir, I don't know whether I should feel flattered 
 at the compliment," - here she dropped him a 
 curtsy " or whether I should consider myself 
 insulted," and she drew herself up, " and be angry 
 at you for being so stupid." 
 
 Chesterfield made no direct answer, but stepping 
 forward said, " We must start now." 
 
 " Do you actually mean to drag me out in the 
 night, in this weather, twenty-five or thirty miles 
 through mud and rain ? " 
 
 " You will have to go with me," replied Chester 
 field placidly. 
 
 "It is too absurd, too preposterously out of all 
 reason ! " she exclaimed, walking up and down the 
 room excitedly. 
 
 Chesterfield stood calmly by and watched her. 
 
 She stopped in front of him, and looking up into 
 his face said in a low voice, " And if this woman, 
 of whom you speak so strangely, were caught and
 
 CHESTERFIELD'S CAPTIVE 163 
 
 taken to the Union army, what would be done with 
 her?" 
 
 " I am afraid it will fare ill with Flora Dowd 
 when she is captured." 
 
 " Flora Dowd ? " she repeated inquiringly. 
 
 " Yes, that is her name." 
 
 " That is not my name." 
 
 " So much the better for you," replied Chester 
 field. 
 
 " Then you will not take me" she murmured, 
 looking at him pleadingly. 
 
 Yes, I shall." 
 
 " I am not she. Pray do not force me to go with 
 you ! " the young woman cried again. 
 
 " If you are no't she, why do you fear to go ? " he 
 asked quietly. 
 
 " The disgrace of it," she flared out. " Cannot 
 you understand the feeling of shame and disgrace 
 at being haled before a lot of rude men ? To be 
 catechised, browbeaten, bullied, and insulted ! Oh, 
 the shame of it ! " and she covered her face with 
 her hands. 
 
 Chesterfield watched her without apparent emo 
 tion. " Believe me, you will not be insulted. You 
 will be shown all possible consideration." 
 
 She took her hands away suddenly. Her lashes 
 were moist, and there was a catch in her voice as 
 she said : "I am sure you will treat me with re 
 spect. A man like you, large, strong, brave, must 
 be generous and noble. I appeal to your generos 
 ity I trust to your nobility."
 
 164 THE CLAYBORNES 
 
 Chesterfield bowed. 
 
 " And you will not force me to go with you ? " 
 she inquired eagerly. 
 
 " I regret it, but you must go," was the reply 
 in the same tranquil manner. 
 
 " I will not," she cried out, clinching her hands 
 and looking at him defiantly. " You shall not force 
 me." 
 
 His only reply was to step forward and lift her 
 from the floor. She struggled fiercely, her supple 
 body twisting and turning in his arms, while she 
 cried out to him, pleaded with him in alternate 
 tones of command and entreaty to set her down 
 upon her feet. 
 
 Out of the door he walked, towards the barn, 
 carrying the struggling woman in his arms. With 
 one hand which she had managed to get free she 
 beat him violently about the head, so violently that 
 the hand was bruised and bleeding, but he minded 
 the blows no more than the rain that fell down 
 upon his head. 
 
 " By George," cried the voice of Dad William 
 son, " what have you got there ? " 
 
 " The other fellow," answered Chesterfield, reach 
 ing for his horse's bridle. 
 
 " Darned if it is n't a woman." 
 
 " If you have any manhood left in you I pray 
 that you let me go," she cried. 
 
 " Williamson," said Chesterfield, " this is the 
 person who was riding your horse. Furthermore, 
 I have many reasons to think that this young
 
 CHESTERFIELD'S CAPTIVE 165 
 
 woman is a Confederate spy, who, as Grant says, 
 has caused more havoc than a troop of horse ; but 
 I leave the matter for you to decide. Shall I let 
 her go ? " 
 
 " I should -say not, Chesterfield. Now we 've 
 captured the pair of 'em. If the filly runs in that 
 kind of a double team she will have to take the 
 consequences." 
 
 " Oh, do not do as he says, Mr. Chesterfield ; I 
 appeal to you once more," cried the girl. 
 
 Chesterfield made no reply, but mounted his 
 horse, and drew her to the saddle in front of him. 
 
 " All ready, Hen ?" inquired Williamson. 
 
 " All ready, Dad ! " 
 
 At the word from Williamson they set off down 
 the road, Williamson riding ahead, Henry with his 
 prisoner's horse tied to his own, and Chesterfield 
 and his charge bringing up the rear. 
 
 Splashing through mud and water down the road 
 they went. Deaf to all her entreaties, unmindful 
 of her struggles, Chesterfield held the woman tightly 
 on the saddle as they rode through the storm. 
 
 At last, completely exhausted, the girl lay still, 
 the wild wind blowing her hair and the rain beat 
 ing into her hot face. Chesterfield disengaged his 
 own riding-cloak, and wrapped it around her. Thus 
 they made their way through the night. Not a 
 word was spoken. At the end of an hour's time 
 he parted the folds of the cloak which encircled 
 her face and looked down into it. Worn out by 
 exertion and fruitless struggle, she lay quietly. 
 He studied the face long and carefully.
 
 CHAPTER XII 
 
 A LETTER FROM THE FRONT 
 
 MILLIKEK'S BEND, April , 1863. 
 MY DEAR LITTLE COMRADE, As much ES I 
 
 long to see your sweet face, I hope you will not get 
 the appointment as field nurse. I could not bear to 
 think of you as being exposed to the privations 
 and dangers which such a life would entail. There 
 are many stronger women for this work, and you 
 are better fitted for the work you are doing in 
 Washington. There is so much sickness in this 
 frightful climate, the chances are that you would 
 be taken ill yourself. When I come to Washing 
 ton after the war, I want to find you looking just 
 the same as when I last saw you. I want to see 
 that color in your cheek. I want to see the same 
 brightness in your eyes. Keep those eyes bright, 
 for the sake of your father, your brother, and 
 all those who care for you. 
 
 I think I am unselfish, after a fashion, in 
 writing you thus, for if you did come out I might 
 get an opportunity to see you, and that would give 
 me great happiness. However, until the war is 
 over, I must be consoled with your letters. Re 
 member how much they are to me. I never see
 
 A LETTER FROM THE FRONT 167 
 
 your delicate handwriting upon an envelope with 
 out a leap of the heart. I have not received a 
 letter from you for a long time. Can it be that 
 you have forgotten me ? Perhaps you have written 
 and the letter has gone astray. I hope you have 
 written, although it makes me wild to think that 
 possibly your little letter has missed its mark and 
 fallen into other hands. If it has gone astray, will 
 you not write again ? 
 
 The army is deep in the problem of taking 
 Vicksburg, and we all are much of the time waist 
 deep in mud and water. Many a poor fellow is 
 sick with fever ; but luckily for me, I have so far 
 escaped. I have just been ordered up the river to 
 Memphis, to bring down some supplies on a trans 
 port. I am delighted at the thought of a change, 
 for I was never made for a water-rat or a beaver. 
 I start at once on the steamer River Queen. I 
 cannot say exactly when I shall return, but when I 
 do get back, the first thing I shall look for will be 
 an envelope bearing your familiar and prized hand 
 writing, and wherever I may be, afloat or ashore, 
 I think of you, and am 
 
 Your devoted, 
 
 GORDON CLAYBORNE.
 
 CHAPTER XIII 
 THE PRISONER ON THE RIVER QUEEN 
 
 CAPTAIN CLAYBORNE had been sent up the 
 river to Memphis, to bring down a transport laden 
 with supplies for the soldiers and fodder for the 
 animals. 
 
 On a wet April morning, bent on hastening the 
 hour of departure, he rode down to the wharf 
 where the River Queen was taking aboard her 
 cargo. As Clayborne stood watching the men roll 
 up the barrels of pork, bacon, flour, and salt, and 
 pile the decks high with bales of hay and bags of 
 grain, Benjamin Chesterfield came down on the 
 dock in company with the black-bearded scout, 
 Dad Williamson. " Good morning, captain," said 
 the newspaper correspondent cheerfully, " have 
 you the command of this expedition ? " 
 
 "Yes, I am going to take some supplies down 
 the river." 
 
 " Well, we have come to add to your cargo." 
 
 " In what way ? " 
 
 " Williamson has two rebel spies on his hands. 
 He has made quite an important capture, and has 
 been instructed to send them down the river for 
 examination."
 
 THE PRISONER ON THE RIVER QUEEN 169 
 
 " Very good ; Lieutenant Brainard here will take 
 charge of them. Brainard, will you please see that 
 the two prisoners are safely stored away with the 
 rest of the freight ? " 
 
 " One of them is named Markley, and the other 
 and the most important one is a woman, Flora 
 Dowd," said Chesterfield, " and I warn you, Cap 
 tain, that she is as clever a piece of womankind as 
 you have ever seen." 
 
 " Brainard, put your fair prisoner in one of the 
 staterooms on the main deck," said Clay borne. 
 " Shall we put a double guard over her, Chester 
 field ? " he added laughingly. 
 
 " Yes, if you want to keep her safely." 
 
 " You hear that, Lieutenant, you 've got to be 
 vigilant. Now please get your prisoners aboard as 
 soon as possible, for I want to start almost imme 
 diately." 
 
 " Very well, sir," replied the lieutenant, as he 
 walked off with the scout. 
 
 " Chesterfield, are you going down with us ? " 
 inquired Gordon. 
 
 " I 'm coming down on the Huntress in a few 
 days." 
 
 " Well, good-day until we meet again," and 
 Clayborne went up the gang-plank. 
 
 A young second lieutenant with highly polished 
 buttons on his coat came running up the gang 
 plank after him. 
 
 " Captain Clayborne," he called out, " I have 
 instructions to report to you and go down the river 
 on the Queen. When do you start ? "
 
 170 THE CLAYBORNES 
 
 " Oh, Lieutenant Ware," replied Clayborne 
 cordially, " I 'm glad to see you. Come aboard ; 
 we shall start at once." 
 
 Half an hour later the boat was puffing down 
 the Mississippi River. Lieutenant Francis Ware 
 was happy in the thought that he had at last been 
 relieved from garrison duty and was really going 
 to the front, with the prospect of immediate active 
 service. 
 
 " Ware," said first lieutenant Brainard, coming 
 up to him, " I shall be very much occupied with 
 some accounts while we are going down the river. 
 I shall have to ask you to take charge of two pris 
 oners who are on board, one in a stateroom on the 
 upper main deck, the other in a cabin below. You 
 will please see that they have proper food and care, 
 but keep a guard outside of their doors day and 
 night." 
 
 " Very well, sir," was the reply. 
 
 Clayborne stood in the pilot-house by the side 
 of the steamboat captain, watching the flat shores 
 of the river as the River Queen, steamed slowly 
 along. " What 's the matter with your boat, cap 
 tain ? " he demanded. " Can't she make better 
 speed than this ? Why, we are crawling along at 
 not over six miles an hour." 
 
 " The fact is, sir," replied the steamboat captain, 
 " the old craft is heavy laden and her boilers are 
 not over strong." 
 
 " By Jove, we won't get to Milliken's Bend for 
 three days. I counted on getting there in half 
 that time."
 
 THE PRISONER ON THE RIVER QUEEN 171 
 
 " Can't help it, sir ; we '11 be lucky to get there 
 in three days." 
 
 There was nothing more to be said. The pro 
 spect was far from pleasant, and Gordon stood 
 chewing the ends of his mustache in an impatient 
 mood, when a corporal came up to him and placed 
 a slip of paper in his hand. Gordon read it with 
 a start. 
 
 " Who gave you this ? " he demanded hastily. 
 
 " It is from one of the prisoners, sir. The 
 woman, Flora Dowd, sir." 
 
 Gordon went to the main deck, followed by the 
 corporal. 
 
 A sentry posted in front of a stateroom door 
 saluted. 
 
 " Corporal, send for the officer in charge of the 
 prisoners," said Gordon, walking up and down the 
 deck restlessly. 
 
 In a few minutes Ware appeared. 
 
 Clayborne addressed him briefly with : " Give 
 me the key to this door, Lieutenant. You may 
 withdraw the guard until I return you the key 
 later." With this he entered the room. 
 
 If the woman was in the least agitated at the 
 sight of Captain Clayborne, she succeeded in con 
 cealing her emotion admirably. 
 
 " Gordon, when I learned that you were in 
 command I took the liberty of sending for you," 
 she said, as composed and tranquil as a summer's 
 day. 
 
 Gordon stood and looked at her in silence. Her
 
 172 THE CLAYBORNES 
 
 riding-boots and the short-skirted dress were wet 
 and splashed with mud, yet she carried herself 
 with her accustomed graceful ease. Although 
 during the night she had ridden for many hours 
 through the storm, her color was as fresh and her 
 eyes as bright as if she had just arisen from a re 
 freshing sleep. 
 
 " Regina, what have you to do with Flora 
 Dowd ? " asked Gordon sternly. 
 
 " I am sometimes called Flora Dowd," she 
 replied sweetly. 
 
 " Flora Dowd, the spy," he repeated slowly. 
 
 " That is what some persons say," she answered; 
 " but I am Regina Bowie to you, Gordon," and she 
 held out her hand to him. 
 
 He did not move. 
 
 " Won't you take it ? " she asked quietly. 
 
 He took the hand, saying, " Regina, how is it 
 possible that you, the proud and fastidious, could 
 become a spy ? " 
 
 She dropped his hand, crying out passionately : 
 " What I have done is for a glorious and sacred 
 cause. I am better and nobler for being known 
 and reviled by the Yankees as Flora Dowd." 
 Then with a swift transition of mood she said in 
 her low, sweet voice : " But you and I can never be 
 enemies, Gordon. Let me speak to you as I used 
 to long ago as a friend. Oh, Gordon, I need a 
 friend I need a friend." 
 
 The sob in the woman's voice touched him. 
 
 " Regina," he said, with an emotion which he
 
 THE PRISONER ON THE RIVER QUEEN 173 
 
 did not succeed in concealing from her, " what is 
 my friendship worth to you ? Do you not realize 
 your position ? " 
 
 " I do realize it," she replied quietly. " It is 
 one of the strange mischances of life, but it is no 
 more strange than my whole existence has been 
 since we last saw each other. Won't you sit 
 down, Gordon, and let me tell some of the things 
 I have done ? " 
 
 " You must tell me nothing," he said quietly. 
 " I have never known that you were Flora Dowd. 
 I only know you now as Regina Bowie." 
 
 " Oh, I forgot," she replied with equal quick 
 ness, " you are one of the enemy." 
 
 " You should remember it for your own sake, 
 for if I am called to give testimony " 
 
 " To give testimony " she repeated, interrupt 
 ing him. " Oh, of course you would have to repeat 
 under oath all I had told you. How stupid of me 
 not to have thought of that before. But, Gordon, 
 you will let me talk to you of Clifford. I have seen 
 him many times within the year. Surely you would 
 like to talk about your brother and your father ? " 
 
 " Yes," he answered with feeling, sitting down 
 upon a camp chair. " Tell me everything you can 
 about them." 
 
 When Gordon came back to the quarter-deck 
 he found young Ware walking up and down study 
 ing a copy of army tactics, while from the deck 
 below came the monotonous tones of a sergeant's 
 voice as he drilled a squad of recruits.
 
 174 THE CLAYBORNES 
 
 " Ware," said Clayborne, " see that the prisoners 
 are well cared for ; let them want for nothing." 
 
 " They shall be well cared for, Captain. It 
 seems impossible that such a refined woman could 
 be a spy. I have often heard of the exploits of 
 Flora Dowd. I had been told that she was hand 
 some, but I never imagined she was so beautiful. 
 I never imagined that the dare-devil Flora would 
 turn out to be such a graceful and brilliant crea 
 ture. What do you suppose " 
 
 " Lieutenant Ware," interrupted Gordon with 
 some impatience, " I don't suppose anything. I 
 merely wanted to say to you that Miss Dowd, 
 although a prisoner, is to be treated with the con 
 sideration due a lady." 
 
 " The caution is quite unnecessary, sir," re 
 plied the young man, with a stiff bow as he walked 
 away. 
 
 Gordon wished to be alone and undisturbed, 
 and he walked out to the bow of the vessel. His 
 thoughts dwelt continually on Regina Bowie. Why 
 in the name of all that was wonderful had it fallen 
 to his lot to have charge of her as a prisoner ? Her 
 cry, " Oh, Gordon, I need a friend ! " rang con 
 stantly in his ears. 
 
 All day Clayborne's face wore a look of care 
 worn preoccupation. He spent most of his time 
 walking the deck. Regina Bowie sent again to 
 ask if he would not come to see her. Although 
 such an interview was painful to him, he was un 
 able to refuse. She was most subdued and gentle
 
 THE PRISONER ON THE RIVER QUEEN 175 
 
 in her manner ; humility and submission became 
 her wonderfully. 
 
 " Gordon, you surely are not afraid that I shall 
 escape from this boat in mid-river ; won't you let 
 me out on deck to take the air ? " This was not 
 unreasonable, so he gave her the liberty of the 
 quarter-deck. At her request he walked with 
 her. 
 
 " Gordon, when do we come to our journey's 
 end ? " she inquired. 
 
 " In about three days." 
 
 "And then you deliver me over to my other 
 jailers ? " she asked quietly. 
 
 " Other jailers," he repeated, with a slight accent 
 of reproach in his voice. " Have I treated you as if 
 I were your jailer, Regina ? " 
 
 " Forgive me, Gordon," she said quickly, " if I 
 sometimes speak bitterly, but I cannot help feeling 
 bitter every time I think that you are one of the 
 foes of my country. It is that which hurts me 
 more than any fear of what my fate will be." 
 
 " It is useless for us to try to discuss that mat 
 ter, Regina," was Gordon's answer. 
 
 " I know it," she answered, with a sigh. 
 
 They walked the deck in silence for some time. 
 
 " Gordon," whispered Regina, stopping suddenly 
 in her walk and looking up into his face, " what 
 will they do with me ? Will they hang me ? " 
 Her lips trembled a little as she spoke. 
 
 " No, Regina, they will not." 
 
 " But they hang spies, do they not ? "
 
 176 THE CLAYBORNES * 
 
 " Yes, but I do not think that they will hang a 
 woman." 
 
 " And Markley ? " 
 
 " If he is convicted of being a spy, he will un 
 doubtedly be executed." 
 
 Regina Bowie shuddered. " You say they will 
 not execute a woman, Gordon, and you believe it 
 because you are a chivalrous man ; but these 
 Yankees will not spare me because I am a woman." 
 
 " Do not allow yourself to get into any fever of 
 alarm, Regina. I cannot say what the decision of 
 the court will be, but I feel certain that it would 
 not condemn a woman to death. I do believe, 
 however, that you will be kept in some restraint 
 until the war is over." 
 
 " In restraint ! " she repeated : " you mean in 
 prison ? " 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 " In some Northern prison ? " 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 " I would rather die first ! " she cried fiercely. 
 " I would rather die a thousand times than be sent 
 North to be kept in one of their vile prisons, to 
 have the Northern women stare at me, to be 
 pointed out as Flora Dowd, the female spy ! " 
 
 Gordon stood looking at her with commiseration. 
 
 " I suppose they will send me to this prison 
 without even a trial," she concluded bitterly. 
 
 " Why, of course you will have a trial. Both 
 you and Markley will be tried according to 
 military procedure."
 
 THE PRISONER ON THE RIVER QUEEN 177 
 
 " Oh, I could not bear to be dragged before a 
 lot of men and have them sit in judgment on me. 
 Oh, Gordon, be my friend, my real friend ! Spare 
 me that humiliation which is worse than death. 
 Kill me before that time comes ! " 
 
 " Regina, do not become excited. You are not 
 a hysterical woman." 
 
 " But you will remain my friend through every 
 thing ? " 
 
 "I am bound to stand by you, Regina; you 
 need not ask that question again." 
 
 " Then if you are my friend my true friend 
 you can never see me suffer the humiliation of 
 a public trial." She looked into his face, speaking 
 slowly. " You will set me free, Gordon." 
 
 " Do you know what you are asking ? " he de 
 manded. " You are asking me to violate my oath 
 of duty in order to save you from the consequences 
 of your rashness and folly." 
 
 " No, no, Gordon ; I did not mean that." 
 
 " If I should permit you to escape I should be 
 suspected of being your accomplice." 
 
 " My accomplice," she repeated softly to her 
 self. Then laying her hand on his arm, " I 
 understand, Gordon, but you have never quite 
 understood me. You have always thought of me 
 as a woman whose character had been cast in a 
 strong mould. Because my spirit has been high 
 you have always thought that I was courageous ; 
 but I am not brave, Gordon. You think that I 
 am daring and fearless, and perhaps reckless, be-
 
 178 THE CLAYBORNES 
 
 cause I have ventured to enter the service in this 
 war, but I fear many things, Gordon. I am afraid 
 of being brought to trial as a spy. I am afraid 
 of being shot. In spite of all you say, I am still 
 afraid." 
 
 Tears stood in her dark eyes, and she stretched 
 out her hand with a gesture that appealed for 
 aid. 
 
 " Control yourself, Regina. Do not cry." 
 
 "No, Gordon, I will not cry," she answered 
 with bowed head. 
 
 He stood in silence, looking at her for a few 
 moments, then spoke with suppressed fervor : 
 " You need have no fear. You shall not be shot. 
 You shall not be brought to trial. You shall go 
 free." 
 
 She lifted her face, the tears still standing wet 
 upon the lashes, while she endeavored to speak in 
 a calm voice of self-control. 
 
 " I cannot accept my life or my liberty at the 
 price of yours. No, Gordon, I have played the 
 game of war with men. I must not meet the con 
 sequences like a weak woman." 
 
 " You begged me to set you free, and now that 
 I offer you your liberty you refuse it. I say you 
 shall go." 
 
 Never had she appeared more beautiful than at 
 this moment when, looking up into his face, she 
 said with a slight tremble of the lip, " I am only a 
 woman, after all, Gordon." 
 
 He took the hand which rested on his arm, say-
 
 THE PRISONER ON THE RIVER QUEEN 179 
 
 ing : " You shall leave this boat in freedom. 
 Whatever the consequences to me, I am resolved 
 that you shall not suffer for your rashness." 
 
 " And what will become of you," she inquired, 
 " if you let me escape ? " 
 
 " Having made up my mind that you shall be 
 liberated, I shall not think of the consequences 
 until the time comes." 
 
 " But I cannot help thinking of them," she 
 cried. " Perhaps they will shoot you." 
 
 " I think not." 
 
 " They will, Gordon, I know they will, and I 
 refuse to go, Gordon. I absolutely refuse my lib 
 erty." 
 
 " You cannot refuse. I shall make you accept 
 it." 
 
 " I refuse I shall refuse unless " she hesi 
 tated " unless you go with me." Then with a 
 burst of passionate entreaty she continued : " You 
 do not belong here, you belong to us. Oh, come 
 to us, Gordon. It is your duty. You have an 
 opportunity to render your country a great service. 
 Do not let it go unheeded. The past will be for 
 gotten and forgiven " 
 
 " Regina," he cried sternly, " I command you to 
 be silent ! " 
 
 Neither spoke for a few moments. Then turn 
 ing her wondrous eyes up at him with a look of 
 contrition she said humbly : " Forgive me, Gor 
 don ; I see I cannot move you. I see I offend 
 you, but what I have just said is the truth. I
 
 180 THE CLAYBORNES 
 
 meant it for your good. Tell me that you are not 
 angry with me." 
 
 " I am not angry." 
 
 " What are you going to do with me ? " 
 
 " I am going to set you at liberty as soon as I 
 can." 
 
 " And Markley, what becomes of him ? " she 
 inquired. 
 
 " If he is convicted, he will have to swing, I sup 
 pose," Gordon answered almost savagely. "You 
 are the only one whose safety concerns me. You 
 are in trouble and I am going to aid you, but you 
 must make up your mind to obey me." 
 
 "Yes, Gordon," she replied, following him 
 meekly.
 
 CHAPTER XIV 
 
 A WOMAN IS AN AWKWARD PEISONEB 
 
 LIEUTENANT WARE, having been ordered to 
 take charge of the prisoners, was particularly mind 
 ful of the comfort of the woman captive, Flora 
 Dowd. He felt compassion for her ; he felt sure 
 she could not be guilty of the charge against her, 
 and it seemed to him a great hardship that she 
 should be a prisoner. 
 
 She agreed with him, and told him many things 
 which strengthened his conviction that she was a 
 much abused young woman. There was a small 
 window in her stateroom which looked out near 
 the paddle-box. Regina Bowie, taking advantage 
 of this loophole, found time and opportunity to 
 tell Ware much about herself, which interested 
 him and enlisted his sympathy. Regina was quick 
 to respond to sympathy, and became more com 
 municative, but she did not deem it expedient nor 
 wise to tell him her real name, nor to mention her 
 previous acquaintance with Gordon Clayborne. 
 
 It was pleasant to excite the interest and sym 
 pathy of the young lieutenant. Not only was it 
 agreeable to have his good-will, but Regina had 
 long since learned the value of making friends ;
 
 182 THE CLAYBORNES 
 
 so the growing kindliness on the part of young 
 Ware was not to be discouraged, and Regina did 
 not discourage it. 
 
 On the afternoon of the third day the River 
 Queen approached the landing at Milliken's Bend, 
 the point of destination. Instead of the large 
 army corps which Captain Clayborne had seen 
 encamped there a week before, he found only a 
 small detachment. The troops had been marched 
 down the west bank of the river; the gunboats 
 and transports had run the batteries of the enemy. 
 The siege of Yicksburg had begun in earnest. 
 
 In the hurry of departure no orders had been 
 left for the disposal of the supplies to be brought 
 by the River Queen. The single road from Mil 
 liken's down to New Carthage and Hard Times 
 was already choked with wagon-trains. To add to 
 this confusion would incur the risk of having the 
 supplies spoiled. Gordon debated the question 
 carefully in his mind, then called the steamboat 
 captain to one side. x 
 
 " Captain Wilkins," he said, " of all the boats 
 which have run the Vicksburg batteries nearly 
 every one has got safely by, which proves that 
 wooden vessels can run the batteries." 
 
 " That 's what I said two months ago when the 
 Queen of the West went through. If that little 
 wooden gunboat can run by, any good river boat 
 ought to stand it." 
 
 " That 's what I think," replied Gordon, " and 
 I propose to run the batteries with this boat."
 
 A WOMAN IS AN AWKWARD PRISONER 183 
 
 " It can't be done, Captain Clayborne." 
 
 " Why not ? You just said it could." 
 
 " I said any good boat ought to run the batter 
 ies, but this boat has got a weak boiler. Even if 
 I pushed her she could not make over eight miles 
 an hour, and we ought to run at least twelve to 
 have any chance of getting by." 
 
 " Captain Wilkins, we shall have to try it, for 
 I Ve made up my mind to go through." 
 
 " Captain Clayborne, I tell you the rebel guns 
 will knock this boat into chips once it gets within 
 their range. You be guided by my advice." 
 
 " Have you ever run the batteries, Captain 
 Wilkins ? " 
 
 No." 
 
 " Neither have I, so we can only make the ex 
 periment. I '11 wager many of those tugs with 
 their barges did Jot make ten miles an hour. 
 
 o 
 
 We '11 go on the River Queen if she only runs 
 five." 
 
 " No, we won't, Captain Clayborne. I 'm per 
 fectly willing to run the gauntlet with a fast boat, 
 but I 'm durned if I 'm going to risk my old car 
 cass on any such fool job as that. I own this 
 boat, the Government only hires her, and I 'm 
 not going to let the rebels have a chance to blow 
 the River Queen out of the water." 
 
 " The River Queen is in my hands now, and 
 she goes where I say," answered Gordon. " If 
 she gets damaged, you '11 get your pay from the 
 Government."
 
 184 THE CLAYBORNES 
 
 "You can't take her without the men to run 
 her, and none of my men will be such fools as 
 to put their heads into the lion's mouth," said 
 Wilkins doggedly. 
 
 " Lieutenant Brainard," Gordon called out, 
 " summon every soldier on board to the quarter 
 deck." 
 
 The lieutenant hesitated, then speaking in a 
 shamefaced way said : "I will of course obey 
 orders, Captain Clayborne, but I consider it my 
 duty to add my remonstrances to those of Wilkins. 
 I think the attempt will be foolhardy." 
 
 " Summon the men," commanded Clayborne 
 peremptorily. 
 
 " What are you going to do ? " demanded Cap 
 tain Wilkins. 
 
 " Wait and see," replied Gordon shortly. 
 
 " Captain Clayborne, you can't coerce me or 
 my men into putting our lives in jeopardy. I 'm 
 willing to take any ordinary risk. Give me a boat 
 that '11 run twelve or fifteen miles an hour, and 
 I '11 put her through." 
 
 What 's the use of talking like that, Wilkins ? 
 You know there is n't a good boat above Vicks- 
 burg at our disposal. It 's either take the River 
 Queen or leave her. I 'm going to take her. 
 Boys," Clayborne continued, addressing the men 
 drawn up on the quarter-deck, " the River Queen 
 is going to run the Vicksburg batteries to-night. 
 Captain Wilkins and his men do not think it a 
 safe undertaking. As many of you as are famil-
 
 A WOMAN IS AN AWKWARD PRISONER 185 
 
 iar with river navigation step forward from the 
 ranks." 
 
 Ten men stepped promptly out of the line. 
 
 " You men are from Ohio, brought up along the 
 Ohio River, I suppose ? " 
 
 " Yes, sir," replied a number of voices. 
 
 " Who will volunteer to run the engine ? " 
 
 Half a dozen men answered that they would. 
 
 " Who feels able to steer the boat ? " 
 
 " I 'm willing to try, Captain," drawled a lank 
 Ohioan with a freckled, weather-stained face. " I 
 took a boat down to New Orleans once." 
 
 " You fully understand that it will be a difficult 
 matter to stand up there in the pilot-house as a 
 target for the Confederate guns," said Clayborne. 
 
 " I allow they won't scare me if they don't hit 
 me," was the reply. 
 
 " Very good," continued Clayborne ; " I only 
 want to impress you with the great responsibility 
 which will rest on your shoulders. Now will any 
 one else be ready to take a hand at the wheel in 
 case of accident to you ? " 
 
 "If you'll let me pick my mate," said the 
 volunteer pilot, "Bob Perkins is as good as any 
 man on the river." 
 
 " Very good," answered Gordon. " Get to your 
 posts at once. Now, Captain Wilkins, we '11 put 
 you and any of your men who wish it ashore at 
 Milliken's." 
 
 " No, by gosh, you won't," replied the steam 
 boat captain emphatically. " This is my boat and
 
 186 THE CLAYBORNES 
 
 I '11 stick to her. If you 're such an all-fired reck 
 less cuss as to run her into hell's teeth, I 'm going 
 to be at the helm myself. I reckon there ain't 
 any of those chaps that have navigated the Ohio 
 who know this Mississippi better 'n Dan Wilkins. 
 I '11 put you fellows through or I '11 go to the bot 
 tom with you. Boys," he cried to his boat's crew, 
 " I did n't hire you to run rebel batteries in a tub. 
 Any one of you is at liberty to get off here at the 
 Bend ; but as for me, all I can say is Dan Wilkins 
 ain't going to allow any soldiers to stump him on 
 the river." 
 
 Not a man stirred. 
 
 " I guess we '11 take this trip as a happy family, 
 Captain Clayborne," said Wilkins. 
 
 Gordon smiled. " Very well, Captain Wilkins, 
 we will leave the navigation of the boat to you. 
 If you want any assistance from any of my men, 
 call upon me." 
 
 " I '11 want your men when mine are shot out of 
 their places, but if we go, we '11 all go pretty 
 much together. Jim Coles, carry some of those 
 barrels of pork down into the engine-room for 
 fuel. Whatever we do, Captain Clayborne, we 've 
 got to make some sort of speed ; and if we do go 
 to the bottom, it may not be the rebel guns that 
 send us there, for the old Queen is liable to blow 
 out her own boiler." 
 
 " We shall have to take that risk, Captain Wil 
 kins, but you need not increase speed until nightfall, 
 for we don't want to get opposite the batteries
 
 A WOMAN IS AN AWKWARD PRISONER 187 
 
 before midnight, and if we get through we '11 be at 
 Hard Times by daylight." 
 
 " If we don't get through we '11 be in ' hard 
 times' many hours before daylight, and I calcu 
 late some of us will stay there, too ; " and Captain 
 Wilkins went down into the engine-room to oil and 
 polish up the old machinery. Here, as he worked 
 away cheerfully, he could be heard whistling to 
 himself the rather suggestive air, " Down among 
 the Dead Men." 
 
 At Milliken's Bend Captain Clayborne debarked 
 all of the horses, and unloaded enough of the 
 supplies to perceptibly lighten the boat, and then 
 waited for darkness. 
 
 As evening descended the River Queen began 
 to get up steam for that supreme test of her 
 powers, a flying trip past the batteries of Vicks- 
 burg, which lay yawning but not sleeping twenty- 
 five miles below. This was to be no pleasure trip 
 for the old craft, although Captain Wilkins had 
 put her in her finest trim. He had oiled her 
 engines and polished the brasses until they shone 
 like new. He had rolled barrels of pork into the 
 furnace-room, and protected " her vitals " with 
 bales of cotton. He was going to put her through 
 or " bust." 
 
 Clayborne stood in the stern of the vessel be 
 hind a deck-house, looking down into the dark 
 waters of the Mississippi. Regina Bowie, who 
 availed freely of the liberty of the deck which had 
 been granted her, came to his side.
 
 188 THE CLAYBORNES 
 
 " Gordon," she whispered, " what are you going 
 to do?" 
 
 " I am going to run the batteries." 
 
 " You will never be able to do it with this 
 craft." 
 
 " Then we shall fall into the hands of the Con 
 federates or go to the bottom ; but other vessels 
 have got safely through and I think we shall." 
 He looked at the sky as he spoke. The night was 
 settling dark. The heavens were overcast and 
 black, save where an occasional rift in the clouds 
 disclosed the light of a vagrant star. 
 
 " In this slow decrepit boat all the chances are 
 against you, Gordon," Regina repeated quietly. 
 " In your heart you know that I speak the truth. 
 It is only your Clayborne pride which prevents 
 your acknowledging it. It is only your Clayborne 
 pride which prevents your leaving this vessel at 
 the Bend. Rather than have it hinted that you 
 were afraid to follow where others have gone, you 
 risk your life, the lives of your men ; you place in 
 jeopardy the lives of your prisoners." 
 
 " That the venture is dangerous I know," re 
 plied Gordon, " but it is not the forlorn hope you 
 picture it, and I have thought of my prisoners. I 
 am going to put you ashore here at the Bend ; as 
 for Markley, he is a man ; he must take the risk 
 with the other men." 
 
 " You were always chivalrous, Gordon ; and so 
 you would set me free because I am a woman." 
 
 He took a few rapid paces up and down the
 
 A WOMAN IS AN AWKWARD PRISONER 189 
 
 deck before he answered her, then, speaking 
 quickly, " Before we start it will be pitch dark. I 
 shall then put you on shore. You shall have your 
 liberty because you are a woman." 
 
 She looked into his face searchingly. She liked 
 the man's generosity. She admired his strength. 
 She felt her own power over him, and it thrilled 
 her. Dearer than the thought of life or liberty 
 was the desire to bring him back with her. 
 
 " And I refuse because I am a woman," she 
 answered. 
 
 " You cannot refuse, for I shall make you.go," 
 he replied with equal determination. 
 
 " You will make me go ! " she cried with a thrill 
 of emotion in her voice ; then laying her hand 
 upon his arm, she spoke earnestly. " If you per 
 sist in your rashness you will run this boat to cer 
 tain destruction. Be guided by reason, Gordon. 
 Allow Markley to go free also ; do not drag that 
 poor fellow into a danger he has no choice of 
 avoiding." 
 
 " I have told you he must take his chances with 
 the rest of us." 
 
 " Then I shall not go without him." 
 
 " You will have to go, Regina." 
 
 " Do you think so poorly of me as to suppose I 
 would desert a comrade ? As much as I fear it, I 
 would rather share the fate which awaits him." 
 
 They had been speaking in low tones, but she 
 stamped her heel upon the deck in emphasis. 
 Gordon looked at her with admiration.
 
 190 THE CLAYBORNES 
 
 " Let us all go, Gordon," she whispered implor 
 ingly. " Do not you remain to pay the penalty for 
 having been magnanimous. Come with us. Do 
 not fear; you shall not be a prisoner. A few 
 words from me, and all will be set right. It 
 seems to me as if I had been ordained to bring 
 you back to the right path. The moment has 
 now come. There is a small boat here in the 
 stern. You can release Markley in a moment. A 
 few strokes of the oar " 
 
 Gordon was silent. 
 
 " Does it seem such a hard thing for you to do ? 
 Will you not follow me now if I show the way ? " 
 
 She took a step forward. Her foot tripped 
 upon a coil of rope ; she would have fallen to the 
 deck had not Gordon caught her in his arms. He 
 supported her thus for an instant. 
 
 " I need you more than ever, Gordon. I cannot 
 give you up," she said. 
 
 Her head rested on his shoulder, and thus he 
 held her for a moment while she whispered in that 
 low sweet tone to which he had never listened 
 without being deeply stirred, " What men call 
 honor is often an empty title, Gordon. If our 
 positions were reversed if you were in need of 
 my help, I would make a great sacrifice for your 
 sake ; that is the woman's way." 
 
 With pulse beating high and his warm blood 
 surging through his veins, Gordon held the woman 
 at arm's length and looked searchingly into her 
 face. There was a tender light in her dark eyes,
 
 A WOMAN IS AN AWKWARD PRISONER 191 
 
 her pretty mouth wore an appealing expression. 
 What man could have looked into that fascinating 
 face and not been deeply moved? As the man 
 looked at her, endeavoring to read her thoughts, 
 his whole nature stirred by the magic of her 
 wonderful influence, the sharp tones of Captain 
 Wilkins's voice giving the final orders to cast off, 
 came to him from the bridge. " Throw off that 
 rope, Jack. You may never cast another. A few 
 hours more and we '11 be where the shots are sing 
 ing," called Wilkins cheerily. The cool voice of 
 the river captain steadied Gordon's nerve. The 
 soldier's blood stirred within him. 
 
 " There is not a moment to lose, Gordon," said 
 Regina in an agitated whisper. " Quick ! get 
 Markley ! I fear we are already too late ! " 
 
 The River Queen had begun to move. 
 
 Clayborne roused himself to action. 
 
 " It is too late now, Gordon. Already we have 
 left the shore." 
 
 In the stern of the River Queen was a small 
 skiff. Clayborne lowered it quickly to the water, 
 then turned, and catching the woman in his arms 
 lifted her from her feet. 
 
 " What are you going to do with me ? " she 
 asked, with an accent of apprehension. 
 
 " Put you in the skiff," and before she could 
 speak he had swung her over the rail and she was 
 in the boat. 
 
 " Markley " she panted, " let him out he 
 can swim for it and you shall come too I will
 
 192 THE CLAYBORNES 
 
 pick you both up," she said with suppressed excite 
 ment, taking up the oars. 
 
 " For God's sake, Regina, row for the shore 
 quickly," he whispered hoarsely, leaning over the 
 rail. He looked down into the brilliant eyes, 
 and the face encircled by dark locks turned up 
 towards him ; then sprang quickly back and hur 
 ried away. 
 
 The woman sat for a moment with the oars at 
 rest. The River Queen, with slowly revolving 
 paddle was turning out into the stream. With a 
 few sharp strokes Regina brought the skiff up 
 under the stern, fastened it by the painter, and 
 rose to her feet. 
 
 The steamboat had increased its speed, the little 
 craft in the rear danced lightly along at the risk 
 of throwing Regina into the water, but the woman 
 ignored the danger. There was a baffled expres 
 sion in her eyes, but they did not show the resigna 
 tion of defeat. A sudden lurch of the skiff threw 
 her to her knees. She grasped the gunwale and 
 steadied herself. Leaning forward, she pulled on 
 the painter until the little boat was close up under 
 the stern of the larger craft. The spray dashed into 
 her face, blinding her. She heeded it not. Brush 
 ing the water from her eyes and shaking it from 
 her hair, she sprang in on the lower deck, and dis 
 appeared into the obscurity of the vessel. 
 
 Gordon Clayborne, in starting for the compan- 
 ionway, had run squarely against a man who came 
 suddenly out.
 
 A WOMAN IS AN AWKWARD PRISONER 193 
 
 " Brainard," he demanded, as soon as he recog 
 nized the lieutenant, " are all the men at their as 
 signed posts ? " 
 
 Brainard scrutinized his face closely before 
 replying slowly : " The men are all at their as 
 signed posts." 
 
 " Then why are you not at yours ? " 
 
 " I was just going there, sir." 
 
 " See that the men stationed below the water- 
 line are supplied with damp cotton to stop up as 
 much as possible any shot-holes made by the ene 
 my's fire." 
 
 " Yes, sir, " and the lieutenant turned slowly 
 away, leaving Clayborne to make his way towards 
 the wheelhouse. 
 
 The engineer had begun to stoke the fires. 
 Sparks flew from the smokestacks, dancing away 
 on the wind, to fall hissing into the swiftly flow 
 ing water. Gordon took up his place by Captain 
 Wilkins's side, and straining his eyes tried to dis 
 tinguish the outlines of the shore as the boat 
 wo and its way down the river. 
 
 Francis Ware stood before the cabin in which 
 Markley the spy was locked. A look of great dis 
 satisfaction was on the young man's brow. His 
 mind was preoccupied. All his thoughts for the 
 last few days had been upon the same subject, 
 Flora Dowd. He had seen how this captivating 
 creature had ingratiated herself into the good 
 graces of his superior officer. He did not wonder
 
 194 THE CLAYBORNES 
 
 at this, but he was jealous. He felt positive that 
 she was wrongfully accused. He did not blame 
 Captain Clayborne for allowing her such liberty on 
 the boat, but he was jealous. Flora had smiled on 
 Francis Ware. She had been confidential. She 
 had awakened his deep sympathy for her. He was 
 in love with her. He could no longer conceal the 
 fact from himself. He thought about her night 
 and day. Her face was continually before him. 
 So when a lithe figure flashed behind a pile of hay- 
 bales, his quick eye knew it was she. The next 
 instant his hand was upon her arm and he was 
 looking into her face. 
 
 "Mr. Ware, you hurt me." 
 
 His hand dropped. " I would not hurt you for 
 the world. Why are you hiding here ? I know 
 Clayborne has given you the liberty to stay on 
 deck, but neither there or here are safe places 
 for you now. There will be no safety for you. 
 He is a brute to allow you to incur the danger 
 we are about to run." He spoke with great feel 
 ing. 
 
 Regina looked into his eyes. She felt that she 
 must play high. 
 
 " Oh, if I only had some one in whom I could 
 trust," she sighed. 
 
 " Trust me. Whenever I am near you my heart 
 leaps within me. I would do anything in the world 
 for you." 
 
 " Would you, surely surely ? " 
 
 " I swear it."
 
 A WOMAN IS AN AWKWARD PRISONER 195 
 
 " Then give me the key to the cabin where 
 Markley is." 
 
 " I cannot. I have not got it." 
 
 She looked at him closely and saw that he spoke 
 the truth. 
 
 "Who has it?" 
 
 " Captain Clayborne." 
 
 " Then get it." 
 
 " Get it from him and give it to you ? " repeated 
 Ware. 
 
 In the darkness Regina Bowie could not see the 
 look of horror in his eyes, but her alert ear caught 
 the tremble in his voice. 
 
 " You want me to trust you, do you not ? " she 
 asked quickly. 
 
 Yes." 
 
 " Then draw up a skiff which is trailing from 
 the stern, and stow it where it will not be seen. I 
 shall need it later." 
 
 W ith feverish haste he obeyed her. " You are 
 going to escape," he whispered. " I cannot bear 
 to think of the danger you incur. I must aid you." 
 
 " Have you thought of the risk you yourself 
 will have to run ? " she breathed in his ear. 
 
 " I can think of nothing but you." 
 
 " Then you shall go with me. Get me the key 
 to the cabin where Markley is confined, and bring 
 it to me here, then keep near this skiff. For the 
 Lord's sake, do not let any one take it away from 
 here." 
 
 Ware caught her in his arms. " Woman, wo-
 
 196 THE CLAYBORNES 
 
 man, ask what you will of me, and you shall have 
 it," he whispered ardently. " You are my very 
 soul ! I can deny you nothing." 
 
 " Then get me the key," she whispered softly. 
 
 " Yes, yes, I will." 
 
 " Quickly, then. Now let me go for the present," 
 she exclaimed, and concealed herself among the 
 bales. 
 
 The River Queen steadily steered her course 
 down the Mississippi. A tongue of flame shot out 
 from the Vicksburg shore, followed by a rumbling 
 roar. The River Queen had been discovered. 
 Puff ! puff ! forward she went. 
 
 Up to the present moment the steamer had been 
 sighted only by some of the lower batteries, shoot 
 ing across a long neck of land ; but as she rounded 
 the point she came at once within full range of the 
 batteries all along the line. From every side sheets 
 of flame burst forth as the great guns hurled their 
 ten-inch shot and shell at the River Queen. 
 Wilkins steered his boat within three hundred 
 yards of the Vicksburg shore, and the guns on the 
 high bluffs shot over his head. The noise was 
 deafening, although few shots had struck the de 
 voted little steamer as yet. She answered bravely 
 with her panting, Puff ! puff ! puff ! sending out 
 great volumes of black smoke as the engineer fed 
 his fire with the barrels of pork. 
 
 The scene burst forth into lurid light as the 
 Confederates set fire to some old houses. Then 
 they got the range. Riddled by shot was the
 
 A WOMAN IS AN AWKWARD PRISONER 197 
 
 Eiver Queen, punctured above and below the 
 water-line ; but the bales of cotton and hay pro 
 tected her vital parts, and puffing quicker and 
 quicker, gasping, wheezing, leaking, groaning, the 
 old boat sped down the river at ten miles an hour. 
 A shot crashed through the pilot-house, but Cap 
 tain Wilkins held his course. 
 
 " In fifteen minutes," said Clayborne to Lieu 
 tenant Brainard, as they stood on the lower deck 
 among the men, "we shall get out of range of 
 those guns. I thought we could run those bat 
 teries even in the River Queen." Brainard gave 
 Clayborne a quick comprehensive glance. There 
 was a strange look on his face in which suspi 
 cion, admiration, and distrust all were mingled. 
 Clayborne did not see the look, for even as he 
 spoke a tongue of flame shot out from some bales 
 of hay amidships. " We have caught fire ! " cried 
 Clayborne. " Brainard, send some men here ! 
 Get buckets, boys ! Don't let the fire spread ! 
 Into the river with some of those bales! Come, 
 pass the buckets quicker ! " he shouted. A double 
 line was formed, and water thrown on the hissing 
 flames. Men with axes chopped at burning tim 
 bers, straining every nerve to prevent the flames 
 from spreading through the boat, but still the 
 conflagration increased rapidly. 
 
 When the fire and confusion were at their height, 
 with every man engaged in the desperate fight 
 against the flames, an agile form slid out from 
 behind a pile of bales which were as yet untouched
 
 198 THE CLAYBORNES 
 
 by the fire. It was Regina Bowie, and with excited 
 but nimble fingers she unlocked a door. 
 
 " It is I, Markley," she cried, bursting into the 
 room. Markley, whose usually red face was pale 
 to the lips, recovered his self-possession at the 
 sight of her. " Thank God ! " he cried, " I 
 feared I was to be left to roast like a stalled ox." 
 
 " We '11 have to get out of here," she cried. 
 " This part of the boat will be too hot to hold us 
 in a few moments." 
 
 " I 'm ready." 
 
 " In the stern of this boat is a skiff. We must 
 get off in her right smart, Markley. These Yankees 
 will have enough to attend to in putting out the 
 fire I started, but if they catch me I reckon they '11 
 cook my goose." 
 
 While she spoke she hurriedly led the way to 
 the stern, dodging behind and clambering over 
 boxes of provisions and bales of hay with the lithe- 
 ness of a panther. 
 
 " Here is the skiff ! " cried Markley. 
 
 " Launch it quicker than lightning ! " said Re- 
 gina. " We 've not a second to spare." 
 
 Markley bent to the task. Out of the smoke 
 rushed Francis Ware. Markley, with the skiff in 
 the water, turned around for Regina. He saw 
 Ware, and sprang at him. Unmindful of Regi- 
 na's commanding voice, Markley grappled with 
 the young lieutenant. The struggle was fierce and 
 short. The younger man fought valiantly, but he 
 had been taken by surprise, and he was greatly
 
 A WOMAN IS AN AWKWARD PRISONER 199 
 
 overmatched. Markley lifted him up in his arms 
 and threw him bodily into the water. 
 
 " Now, Regina, into the boat with you ! " cried 
 Markley. 
 
 She obeyed with a spring, and Markley at her 
 side cast off the painter and took up the oars. 
 
 " Reach a hand to the young fellow ; he 's hurt," 
 said Regina quietly. 
 
 " Let the boy drown," replied Markley ; " we 've 
 no time for philanthropy"- 
 
 " Do as I say, Markley ! " she cried with that 
 peremptory tone of command which admitted of no 
 reply. Without further protest Frank Ware was 
 hauled into the boat. 
 
 " Now row for the east shore, Markley," Regina 
 commanded further.
 
 CHAPTER XV 
 
 THE RIVER QUEEN'S BOILER 
 
 ALTHOUGH the River Queen was burning fiercely, 
 she still obeyed the helm. A few minutes more 
 and she might get past the batteries. If the 
 fire could be controlled she might still get down 
 the river in safety. Gordon Clayborne knew 
 that the steamer had been set on fire by some 
 treacherous hand. His heart grew sick at the 
 thought that the adventure, which had come so 
 near success, might end in disastrous failure. 
 But he fought misfortune with all the stubbornness 
 of his unyielding disposition, and inspired by his 
 example his men fought the flames with desperate 
 energy. They seemed to hold the conflagration 
 in check for a few moments. The fate of the 
 River Queen swung in the balance. 
 
 A sharp, discordant yell sounded above the roar 
 of the flames. Clayborne knew that cry full well. 
 He sprang up the companionway to the deck. A 
 large yawl had put off from the Vicksburg shore, 
 and aided by the current was keeping up with the 
 steamer. There were a score of armed men in the 
 boat, and a second time the wild rebel yell rang 
 out over the water.
 
 THE RIVER QUEEN'S BOILER 201 
 
 " Yanks ahoy ! " called out a gruff voice. " Your 
 jig is up ! Run your boat ashore and surrender ! " 
 
 Clayborne stepped into the shadow of the pilot 
 house. " Does she still obey her helm ? " he in 
 quired of the man at the wheel. Captain Wilkins 
 nodded. 
 
 " Keep her headed down the river. If that yawl 
 comes too near, swing into it." 
 
 " Run your boat for the shore, or we '11 give you 
 a volley ! " cried the same voice. Clayborne saw a 
 pivot gun swing round in the bow of the yawl. 
 
 " Keep her steady, Captain Wilkins. We 've got 
 the fire under control a little ; we may possibly hold 
 our own." 
 
 " Shoot the man at the wheel ! Aim at the pilot 
 house with the bow-chaser," came from the yawl. 
 
 "Port your helm quickly, Captain, and spoil 
 their aim ! " cried Clayborne. A volley of musketry 
 rattled about the pilot-house. The shot from the 
 howitzer struck at Gordon's side, covering him with 
 splinters. One ragged fragment hit his forehead. 
 He reeled down to the rail. Caught at it to steady 
 himself. His nerveless fingers relaxed, and he 
 pitched heavily forward into the river. 
 
 Wilkins uttered a sharp, quick oath as his 
 hand fell helpless from the helm ; the wheel flew 
 about, and the River Queen fell off toward the 
 west shore. 
 
 Again came the fierce rebel yell. Then a voice 
 sounded clear and distinct, " Now, you Yanks, will 
 you surrender ? "
 
 202 THE CLAYBORNES 
 
 Captain Wilkins pulled himself together. Wrap 
 ping a bandanna handkerchief tightly around his 
 right hand, he grasped the swaying wheel with 
 his left and brought the River Queen up to her 
 course. " Surrender hell ! " he shouted. " You 
 come and get us if you want us ! I reckon you '11 
 get your whiskers singed ! " 
 
 Lieutenant Brainard, holding the flames in check 
 below the deck, heard the volley of musketry above. 
 He heard the rebel yell, followed by the call to 
 surrender. He could not restrain himself longer. 
 With an oath he, too, rushed for the deck. The 
 men in the yawl were reloading for another volley. 
 Wilkins signaled to the engineer for greater speed. 
 Brainard saw the yawl with its howitzer in the bow 
 trained on the River Queen. He saw twenty mus 
 kets aimed. He looked quickly around for Clay- 
 borne, and sprang into the pilot-house. 
 
 " Where is that scoundrel ? " he cried. 
 
 There was a roar and a crash louder than any 
 volley of musketry. The steamer's boiler had ex 
 ploded, and the River Queen drifted down the 
 stream a hopeless and sinking wreck. 
 
 The rush of cold water had brought Gordon 
 Clayborne back to consciousness. Obeying the 
 natural instinct of man, he struck out to swim for 
 the vessel, holding his chin above water. He 
 saw the River Queen a hundred yards down the 
 river. Then came a terrific roar. A sheet of 
 flame shot upward. The river seemed to writhe, 
 and the air was thick with falling, blazing meteors.
 
 THE RIVER QUEEN'S BOILER 203 
 
 Gordon dove straight toward the river-bed ; when 
 he rose to the surface he warded off with one 
 hand the floating debris which surrounded him. 
 Pieces of charred lumber, boxes of provisions, bales 
 of hay littered the stream, while a few hundred 
 yards distant the River Queen had grounded on 
 the western shore, and was now burning to the 
 water's edge. Further resistance was useless. The 
 men thought only of escape. All who had not 
 been thrown into the water by the explosion now 
 jumped to escape the fire. Many of them were 
 picked up by the Confederates, and of those who 
 succeeded in reaching the land the majority fell 
 into the hands of guerrillas lying concealed in the 
 brush. 
 
 Clayborne resolved, if possible, to float with the 
 current down the river, and land in the protection 
 of the Union lines. He felt his strength giving 
 out, and casting about for some support, drew him 
 self upon a bale of hay. Here he lay for a mo 
 ment, with his stomach close to the hay while he 
 looked up and down the river. Above him the bat 
 teries had almost ceased firing, although an occa 
 sional shot came swishing over the water. One of 
 these random missiles struck so near as to deluge 
 him with the spray, while the concussion overturned 
 his craft, spilling him again into the river. As he 
 came to the surface, he heard a faint cry, and his 
 hand struck against the face of a man who was 
 floating past him. Clayborne grasped the man 
 with one hand, while he steadied his raft with the
 
 204 THE CLAYBORNES 
 
 other. Drawing himself up once more, he suc 
 ceeded after great efforts in pulling the man up 
 after him. 
 
 It was Captain Wilkins, wounded and weak from 
 loss of blood. 
 
 Wilkins tried to speak, and Clayborne placed 
 his ear near the lips of the wounded man. 
 
 "The boiler busted after all," murmured the 
 captain feebly. 
 
 Clayborne steadied his little craft with the great 
 est care, for he felt he lacked the strength to draw 
 Wilkins up, if it should again capsize. Then he 
 noticed that under the additional weight the hay, 
 now saturated with water, began to settle slowly. 
 He took off his boots, coat, and waistcoat. 
 
 " What are you going to do, partner ? " asked 
 Wilkins, who had been watching him with interest. 
 
 " This hay is fast losing its buoyancy, Wilkins. 
 I am preparing for emergencies." 
 
 " That last volley those cusses fired prepared me 
 all right," replied the captain grimly. 
 
 Clayborne slid carefully into the water. 
 
 " What yer about now ? " inquired Captain Wil 
 kins, raising himself upon one elbow. 
 
 " This craft was not designed for two, Wilkins, 
 though it ought to carry you alone if you don't 
 kick about much. As for me, I '11 swim for shore," 
 and Gordon Clayborne gave the bale a gentle 
 shove with his feet ; the movement sending his 
 own body a few yards in the opposite direction. 
 For a few moments he allowed himself to float with
 
 THE RIVER QUEEN'S BOILER 205 
 
 the current, while he took his bearings. It was 
 growing darker on the river as the fire burned 
 lower and lower on the wreck of the River 
 Queen, but a faint glow over the Vicksburg bluffs 
 showed the approach of dawn. Gordon struck out 
 toward the western bank. If he could reach it he 
 intended to lie concealed in the woods all day, and 
 make his way to the Union forces down the river 
 by night. He had not swum a dozen strokes when 
 the outlines of a rowboat became visible in the dim 
 morning light. Clayborne stopped swimming and 
 trod water quietly, trusting that the occupants of 
 the boat would pass him by unnoticed. But a 
 lynx-eyed fellow had marked the ripple on the 
 water, and the boat bore down upon him until an 
 oar was suspended over his head. 
 
 " Do you surrender ? " inquired a voice. 
 
 " I do," was the answer, and Gordon Clayborne 
 was hauled into a dory. 
 
 In the boat were three men. " We 've fished 
 up one Yank, anyhow," said one. 
 
 " Hi ! there is another ! " called out one of his 
 companions. " Row over to that bale of hay 
 yonder ! " 
 
 A few strokes brought them alongside of Captain 
 Wilkins. 
 
 " Well, they got you in quick time," was his 
 comment, " but I 'm so chock full of lead I 'm 
 liable to sink the boat if they take me in." 
 
 " He is so bad hurt it ain't much use to carry 
 him in," remarked one of the Confederates. " It
 
 206 THE CLAYBORNES 
 
 will only mean one more man for the hospital. We 
 might as well let him alone." 
 
 " Hold on there ! " exclaimed another, " the 
 man ain't no use, I '11 allow, but there 's a right 
 smart-looking coat and a better pair of boots than 
 I hev seen in a year. Better git them before you 
 shove off." 
 
 " 'Pears like we all three come in on this deal," 
 and the man gave a waistcoat to one companion, a 
 pair of boots to the other, keeping the coat for 
 himself. 
 
 " Those articles are all mine," said Gordon. 
 
 " I reckon finding 's keepings just at present, 
 sonny," was the cool rejoinder. "I seen you 
 swimming away and making towards shore like a 
 good one. Just because you claim these things as 
 yourn don't make 'em so. Row up under the 
 lower batteries, Joe, and we '11 take our prisoners 
 ashore." 
 
 Clayborne had no intention to appear before the 
 enemy at Vicksburg in any more of an undress 
 uniform than he could help, so he said quietly : 
 
 " I was the commander of that expedition, and 
 I am now a prisoner of war. That is my clothing, 
 but I am willing to pay you for restoring it to me," 
 and he took a damp United States note from his 
 trousers' pocket. 
 
 The greenback proved a persuasive argument, 
 and the clothing was delivered with the remark : 
 
 " I calculate it 's yourn, if you 're willing to pay 
 for it."
 
 THE RIVER QUEEN'S BOILER 207 
 
 Captain Clayborne quietly pulled on his boots 
 and put on his coat, and then, without further re 
 sistance or remonstrance, was taken to the city a 
 prisoner of war, where he found a number of sur 
 vivors of the wreck, prisoners like himself. Heavy 
 at heart, Clayborne looked about him to see who 
 was missing. Less than half of his own men 
 were there, and only two of the steamboat crew. 
 Brainard, Ware, one of the sergeants, and over 
 twoscore men were not accounted for. In his 
 soul Gordon prayed that they had reached the 
 land and thence had made their escape, but he 
 knew the difficulties they would encounter, and he 
 greatly feared that many of them were either killed 
 or captured. 
 
 Being the commanding officer, he was soon 
 separated from his men and confined by himself. 
 The place of his imprisonment was an old tobacco 
 warehouse, now partially occupied by the Com 
 missary Department. Clayborne was put into a 
 room on the lower floor, the windows of which 
 looked out upon a courtyard where a sentry paced 
 day and night. There was no furniture in the 
 room beyond a few boxes which served him for 
 chair and table. A rolled-up blanket in the corner 
 was his bed. 
 
 The next day after his capture he was taken 
 into the office of the Commissioner for the Ex 
 change of Prisoners, which was in another part of 
 the same building. 
 
 An officer in a well-brushed uniform rose from
 
 208 THE CLAYBORNES 
 
 his chair as Gordon Clayborne was ushered into 
 the room. 
 
 " This is Captain Clayborne, who tried to run 
 our batteries ? " he inquired, looking at Gordon 
 carefully. 
 
 " It is, sir," replied the latter. 
 
 " I am Major Sharp, Commissioner for the 
 Exchange of Prisoners," returned the other impres 
 sively. 
 
 Clayborne bowed. 
 
 " Let me offer you a chair, sir," continued the 
 major affably. 
 
 There was a certain mixture of pompousness 
 and kindly good nature about the major which dis 
 armed any strong feeling of hostility. Gordon 
 bowed again politely, and took the proffered chair. 
 
 " By gad, sir," exclaimed the major, leaning back 
 in his seat, " our boys have got the range over the 
 river pretty closely now. You can tell old Porter 
 to send along some more of his gunboats. We '11 
 smash them into kindling wood, as we did that boat 
 of yours," and Major Sharp laughed airily. 
 
 Clayborne did not smile; the event was too 
 recent and too tragic to be viewed humorously. 
 
 " Did I not hear, Major, that a Quaker gunboat 
 of cotton bales and pork barrels came floating 
 down the river one night not long ago, carrying 
 the fear of death and destruction with it? Is 
 that story correct that your boys blew up the 
 Indianola rather than let it fall into the hands 
 of this terrible destroyer ? "
 
 THE RIVER QUEEN'S BOILER 209 
 
 " You 're right, Captain ; you had the laugh on 
 us that time," the major admitted frankly. 
 
 " So we should have this time but for " 
 
 " But for a neat shot through the engine-room, 
 eh ? " interrupted the major cheerfully. 
 
 " No, sir, you never reached our engine. We 
 were set on fire by Oh, the devil ! " cried Gordon 
 hotly, " what 's the use of talking about it now it 's 
 all over ! The fortunes of war wrecked the River 
 Queen when she had almost gotten safely through, 
 and I am a prisoner." 
 
 " Don't take it too much to heart," replied the 
 major cheerfully. " I 've seen many thousands of 
 you fellows first and last. As you know, I am the 
 Commissioner for Exchange. I have authority 
 to take your parole. If you will sign the usual 
 cartel you will practically become a free man, 
 except that you cannot take up arms again until 
 formally exchanged." Major Sharp handed his 
 prisoner a paper. Gordon read it carefully twice, 
 and then said slowly : 
 
 " I like that document, Major, all but one 
 clause. If you '11 let me draw my pen through 
 that I '11 sign willingly." 
 
 " Which clause is that ? " 
 
 " The one binding myself not to take up arms 
 until exchanged. At the rate exchanges are taking 
 place I might be obliged to remain inactive for a 
 year or two." 
 
 The major laughed. " If you do not sign you 
 will have to remain inactive until the end of the 
 war."
 
 210 THE CLAYBORNES 
 
 " I '11 take the risk." 
 
 "Why should you object to that little agree 
 ment ? " persisted the ruddy-faced major. " I 've 
 placed that same document in the hands of many 
 thousands of your people within the last few 
 months, and I shall be surprised," he went on 
 with importance, " if I don't give General Grant 
 one of those to sign right here in this room 
 within thirty days." 
 
 Gordon smiled. " I should not be surprised to 
 see General Grant right here in this room within 
 thirty days, but not as a prisoner of war, Major 
 Sharp." 
 
 " Time will show, Captain Clayborne, and in the 
 mean time you had better think over the matter 
 of signing this cartel." 
 
 " I will think it over," replied Gordon. 
 
 " While you are pondering the subject won't you 
 join me in a drink. It may facilitate thought," said 
 the major, crossing over to a table in the corner 
 on which stood a jug and a tin cup. 
 
 "Not so early in the morning, thank you." 
 
 " Will you pardon me, then, if I drink alone ? " 
 inquired the major, pouring out a generous bumper. 
 
 " Certainly." 
 
 As Major Sharp put the whiskey to his lips, the 
 door opened, and an orderly entered and stood at 
 attention. 
 
 " What is this ? " inquired the major, when he 
 had replaced the empty cup on the table. 
 
 " A message from headquarters, sir."
 
 THE RIVER QUEEN'S BOILER 211 
 
 Major Sharp broke the seal and read the paper 
 at a glance. " The devil ! " he exclaimed, turning 
 to Clayborne apologetically. " I have just received 
 instructions from the commanding general to with 
 hold your parole for the present." 
 
 Gordon bowed. " That simplifies matters, Ma 
 jor ; the affair is then not left for me to decide." 
 
 " I am truly chagrined, sir," said the major. 
 
 " Do not be troubled on my account," replied 
 Gordon. 
 
 " I am instructed to have you reconducted to 
 your jail. I trust that you find the quarters com 
 fortable," continued Sharp. 
 
 Gordon smiled. " They are comfortable as 
 could be expected." 
 
 " Let me know if I can do anything for you at 
 any time," added the good-natured official, as Gor 
 don was escorted back to his cell. 
 
 Captain Gordon Clayborne had not been re- 
 lodged in his prison for half an hour when a guard 
 came in and announced : 
 
 " Major Bowie would like to see you, sir ! " 
 
 The name startled Gordon's ears. He knew 
 no member of that family who held the rank of 
 major. 
 
 "Who the deuce is he?" asked Gprdon of 
 himself. " Show the gentleman in," he said 
 aloud. 
 
 A light footstep sounded in the hallway, and 
 Miss Kegina Bowie came into the room. She was 
 dressed in a suit of soft Confederate gray, with
 
 212 THE CLAYBORNES 
 
 short skirt covering the tops of a pair of neat 
 riding-boots. The jacket was close fitted to her 
 form and shone resplendent with a double row of 
 army buttons. 
 
 " You see, Gordon," she exclaimed, " how soon 
 the tables have been turned. You are now our 
 prisoner." There was a saucy curve to her full 
 lips, and her wondrous expressive eyes looked at 
 him with their alluring gaze. 
 
 " I was told Major Bowie wanted to see me," 
 he said, with surprise. 
 
 " / am Major Bowie," she answered with due 
 gravity. " Did you not know that ? I hold a 
 commission in the Confederate army signed by 
 President Davis : ' For valuable services rendered 
 to these Confederate States of America by Regina 
 Bowie,' a special act of Congress made her a major 
 and voted her the thanks of the nation." Regina 
 pointed to the star which decorated her coat with 
 a gesture of self-approbation. 
 
 "Well, Major Bowie, so you were right after 
 all. The River Queen did not get past the bat 
 teries, and I am a prisoner." 
 
 " You know you hold your freedom in your own 
 hands, Gordon," she replied seriously. 
 
 " They have just refused to let me sign a parole," 
 he answered. 
 
 " You gave me my freedom, Gordon ; I can give 
 you yours." 
 
 "How can you do that?" he asked quickly, 
 looking at her closely.
 
 THE RIVER QUEEN'S BOILER 213 
 
 " Oh, I have more power than you think," she 
 replied lightly. Then speaking with greater ear 
 nestness, she said, " But I shall not be as generous 
 as you were. Perhaps it is because I am a woman, 
 perhaps it is because it is my nature, I shall exact 
 a promise from you. You must come back to us. 
 It seems to me now more than ever as if Fate had 
 ordered thai; I should be the means of winning you 
 back. Your destiny and mine are somehow bound 
 together. I cannot explain how, but I feel it. 
 You shall come back to our cause to us." There 
 was a note of prophecy in her tone which could 
 not fail to move him. 
 
 " Regina," he exclaimed, " what a strange 
 woman you are ! I who have known you so long 
 feel that I do not understand you." 
 
 There was an inscrutable expression in her won 
 derful deep eyes as she replied slowly, " How can 
 you expect to understand me at all times, when I 
 do not always understand myself ? " 
 
 Gordon shook his head. " It seems to me that 
 our paths in life have long since become separated. 
 I feel that they will grow farther apart." 
 
 " It shall not be, Gordon ! " she replied impul 
 sively, taking both his hands in hers. " I want 
 you always to be my friend. I could never bear 
 to have you go out of my life forever. You shall 
 not!" 
 
 She stood between him and the window. The 
 sun streaming in touched her head, bringing out 
 the warm, rich color of her dark hair. The light
 
 214 THE CLAYBORNES 
 
 enveloped her whole person, making her seem more 
 than ever a creature of ardent life, a part of the 
 warm sunlight of day. A figure passed before the 
 window. It passed rapidly, giving a quick jealous 
 glance into the room as it went by. The figure 
 was of a young man dressed as a lieutenant in the 
 Confederate army. 
 
 Gordon sprang to the window. The form had 
 disappeared, but he had seen a pale, boyish face 
 with brown eyes. Turning towards Regina Bowie, 
 he demanded excitedly, " How did he come here ? " 
 
 " Who ? " she inquired. 
 
 " Francis Ware in the uniform of the Confeder 
 ate army." 
 
 For almost the first time in her life Regina 
 Bowie changed color. " I could not help it," she 
 said ; " he insisted on coming with me." 
 
 " You could not help it ! " he cried scornfully. 
 " Did he desert of his own accord, and change 
 his coat without persuasion ? " 
 
 " He would follow me, and no man shall do that 
 and not wear my colors," she replied with spirit. 
 " And why not," she continued, regaining her com 
 posure. " He is another soldier for us and a good 
 one. He 's a right fine young fellow. All 's fair 
 in love and war, and a woman must make recruits 
 where she can." 
 
 " ' All 's fair in love and war,' " repeated Gor 
 don with withering sarcasm. 
 
 " Heavens, Gordon," exclaimed Regina, " you 
 do not suppose I 'm in love with the boy ! "
 
 THE RIVER QUEEN'S BOILER 215 
 
 " In love with him, no," cried Gordon, " but you 
 have made him love you." 
 
 Regina shrugged her shoulders. " Nonsense, I 
 can't help it if the boy likes me a little." 
 
 " You have induced him to desert. Think of 
 what that means. You have ruined his life to 
 gratify your vanity, or merely to get another 
 'recruit.'" And he caught her arm and looked 
 sternly into her face. 
 
 " ' All 's fair in love and war ! ' " he repeated a 
 second time. " Who set fire to the River Queen ? 
 Tell me ! " and he shook her by the arm. 
 
 Her eyes flashed up at his fearlessly. " You are 
 such a different person when you are angry, Gor 
 don, I am a little afraid of you ; but I think I like 
 you better when you are angry." 
 
 " Who set fire to the boat ? " he demanded 
 again vehemently. 
 
 " I will not tell you." 
 
 He dropped her arm and turned away. 
 
 " What will his family do when they learn that 
 he is a deserter?" he continued, speaking more to 
 himself than to the woman. 
 
 " They need never know," she answered coolly. 
 " They will think he was killed." 
 
 " They shall never know from me," cried Gor 
 don. 
 
 " And you will forgive me when I tell you that 
 no matter what I may have done, I desire your 
 welfare," exclaimed Regina. " You will forgive 
 me, won't you ? " she repeated persuasively.
 
 216 THE CLAYBORNES 
 
 "For what?" he inquired bitterly. "For de 
 coying young Ware, for setting fire to the River 
 Queen? My God, Regina, what am I to think 
 of you?" 
 
 " Think," she answered passionately, " that in a 
 sacred cause all means are justified, all acts are 
 sacred. I will stop at nothing. Young Ware was 
 necessary to me, so I took him. I resolved that 
 the River Queen should not go past the batteries 
 carrying Markley a prisoner, and she did not ! " 
 
 She stood defiantly before him, her dark eyes 
 flashing proudly, her body trembling with emotion. 
 
 Gordon could not look upon her without being 
 moved by the very violence of her passion. 
 
 Controlling his own feelings, he said sternly : 
 
 " You have great power over Ware ? " 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 " He would do anything in the world for you ? " 
 
 " I think so, yes." 
 
 " Then make him leave you. His friends think 
 that he is dead. Force him to leave you and let 
 him come to life again." 
 
 " I cannot." 
 
 " Why not ? You do not love him." 
 
 "I cannot give him up," she repeated obdu 
 rately. 
 
 " You mean you will not." 
 
 She turned away from him, and there followed a 
 few moments of silence, which was broken by the 
 woman saying in her low, sweet voice, " You have 
 not told me yet that you forgive me, Gordon."
 
 THE RIVER QUEEN'S BOILER 217 
 
 " No, I have not forgiven you." 
 
 " But you will, Gordon ; say that you will." 
 
 " I cannot say it." 
 
 " Is that your friendship for me ? " she asked 
 reproachfully. 
 
 " And your friendship for me, what of that ? " 
 he replied bitterly. " Oh, Regina, I see you at 
 this moment as you really are ! I shall always see 
 you thus." 
 
 She looked full at him while she shook her head 
 doubtingly. " You are angry with me now, but 
 you will get over your anger. When you are 
 cooler, you will forgive me. Good-by for the pre 
 sent, Gordon."
 
 IN VICKSBURG AND OUT 
 
 DURING six weeks Gordon Clayborne remained 
 a prisoner in Vicksburg. Almost hourly he heard 
 the besieging cannon roar, and yet Grant remained 
 outside the city. 
 
 Regina Bowie had disappeared from the scene. 
 There was still a way to get out of Vicksburg for 
 those who knew it and who had the daring. 
 " Major " Regina Bowie had gone off on a secret 
 mission of importance, and Francis Ware had gone 
 with her. 
 
 Clayborne's imprisonment was indeed wearisome, 
 although the tedium was sometimes alleviated by 
 the cheerful Major Sharp. The latter would occa 
 sionally invite Gordon to visit him in his office, to 
 share a friendly pipe of tobacco or an old news 
 paper, and to talk over the latest news of the siege. 
 The major was an optimistic little soul who saw 
 everything on his own side of the fence through 
 rose-colored glasses. 
 
 " Clayborne," he said, speaking with great seri 
 ousness, " there was a time when I thought your 
 General Grant was the most active and efficient 
 officer in the Federal service ; but now, sir, I 'm 
 compelled to change my mind."
 
 IN VICKSBURG AND OUT 219 
 
 " I don't see why you should begin to doubt his 
 activity or efficiency just now, Major, in view of 
 the events of the past weeks." 
 
 " That 's just it, sir. How a man of any mili 
 tary ability could put himself between the mill 
 stones of Johnston and Pemberton and then calmly 
 sit down and wait to be ground up is more than 
 I can understand." 
 
 " But he has not been ground up yet, Sharp, and 
 it seems to me he is doing a good deal of grind 
 ing. Why does n't Johnston do some of it ? " 
 
 " He has been waiting for reinforcements, so as 
 to make a sure thing of it. Do you know, Clay- 
 borne, I have a strong presentiment, sir, that I 
 shall have your General Grant in here before 
 many days as a prisoner of war," said Sharp, with 
 a cordial laugh as he turned to his newspaper, 
 which made its appearance printed upon the re 
 verse side of some flowery wall-paper. With deep 
 interest the dapper major read the leading edi 
 torial : 
 
 " The report of the auditor of the commonwealth 
 shows that our condition as a self-sustaining people has 
 materially improved since the beginning of the war. 
 This interesting and exhaustive report shows conclu 
 sively that the number of cattle, sheep, horses, slaves, 
 and swine in these Confederate States of America, as a 
 whole, increased rather than diminished during the last 
 twelve months. This information will be most gratify 
 ing to those of us who live in the great cities, where the 
 visible supply of provisions is temporarily restricted. 
 Should it not be a source of great pride and satisfaction
 
 220 THE CLAYBORNES 
 
 we might add of consolation, were we in need of 
 being consoled that the country at large is so pros 
 perous and that this prosperity is in the face of the fact 
 that large invading armies are overrunning our fair 
 land, eating and devastating our crops, stealing our 
 horses, and killing our fat beeves by the thousand ? 
 
 " It is true that Providence has seen fit to remove 
 many of our hogs by the means of pestilence, but it is 
 not for us to question the workings of Providence. And 
 if we have less hogs, have we not our horses, our cattle, 
 and our slaves ? 
 
 " It is also true that Abe Lincoln has issued a procla 
 mation emancipating all our slaves, and this emancipa 
 tion has become effective so far as the Northern arms 
 have been able to sustain it ; but when the war is ended, 
 and we are dictating terms of peace at Washington, 
 shall we not exact from ' Father Abraham ' twice, yea 
 thrice payment for our chattels so unrighteously taken 
 from us ? " 
 
 In another column Sharp read the following : 
 
 "The commanding general's report states with ex 
 ceeding regret that the supply of rations in this city has 
 been reduced, but that this reduction is beyond the con 
 trol of those in charge of the Commissary Department. 
 Therefore, should not those who are not actively engaged 
 in fighting be glad to temporarily abstain from eating 
 meat, in order that all of it may be given to the brave 
 boys bearing arms in our sacred cause ? " 
 
 STRAY ITEMS OF NEWS. 
 
 " It comes to us by rather a circuitous route that 
 ' Beast ' Butler has pocketed all the silver spoons in New 
 Orleans. The 'Beast' calls the Southern girls 'little 
 devils.' "
 
 IN VICKSBURG AND OUT 221 
 
 " Coming from such a source, this is a compli 
 ment," interpolated the gallant major, and then he 
 continued : 
 
 " The Yankees were doubtless aware that yesterday 
 was to be observed in this city by fasting and prayer ; 
 yet it was in perfect keeping with their nature to 
 endeavor to interrupt the devotions of our people by 
 continuous cannonading." 
 
 " Just like them," acquiesced Sharp. 
 
 LITERARY. 
 
 " We have to thank the literary ladies and gentlemen 
 of the South for the manner in which they have seconded 
 our efforts to build up a high class literary journal inde 
 pendent of Yankeedom. We have now upon our table 
 over one hundred articles in prose and poetry from the 
 ablest pens in Vicksburg. Among them are letters of 
 congratulation, advice, and encouragement. We shall 
 in our next issue devote a small portion of our space to 
 answering the thousand and one communications from 
 our correspondents and in enumerating the articles ac 
 cepted and those rejected. 
 
 " We add to our list of contributors the names of Miss 
 Bella Jones and Miss Regina Bowie. Miss Bowie re 
 cently escaped from the Yankees, by whom she was held 
 as a prisoner of war. Miss Jones is a poetess of con 
 siderable renown. 
 
 " If this war has done us no other good, it has at least 
 freed us from the thralldom of the Yankee printing-press. 
 We are no longer obliged to read worthless Yankee 
 books, but will have Southern books, written by South 
 ern gentlemen, printed by Southern type, on Southern 
 paper, and sold by Southern publishers. 
 
 " (NOTE. Our next issue may be slightly delayed,
 
 222 THE CLAYBORNES 
 
 owing to the non-arrival of a consignment of paper 
 through the blockade.) " 
 
 With an angry snort the major continued to 
 read from another article : 
 
 " Just as we were about to go to press we were over 
 come by mortification and surprise to see, in passing 
 along Main Street, this shameless advertisement flaunt 
 ing the eye before the book emporium of Carter and 
 West : 
 
 " ' For sale, 1000 copies of standard authors ! A 
 choice collection of Dickens and Thackeray, Carlyle, 
 Emerson, and Longfellow.' 
 
 " We are horrified to note that every one of these books 
 bears the impress of a Northern publishing house. We 
 were just congratulating ourselves that the war had freed 
 us from literary vassalage to the Yankees, and now 
 comes Carter and West's advertisement like a bolt from 
 a clear sky. We are too shocked and grieved to 
 denounce such subservience with our accustomed vigor 
 of style. We therefore remonstrate with our erring 
 brothers more in sorrow than in anger. We beseech 
 them to throw those accursed volumes into the river. 
 
 " Dickens and Thackeray would be of course good 
 literature, were their books reprinted by Southern pub 
 lishers, and we think it possible these talented English 
 men might find good material for their clever pens in 
 our present war. Such titles as these would find ready 
 sale among us : 
 
 " ' David Copperhead, A Tale of the Reconstructed 
 North,' by Charles Dickens. ' The New Virginians, or 
 Spurning the Northern Scum,' by Wm. M. Thackeray. 
 
 " But as it is, these books are all defiled by the North 
 ern pitch. Let Carter and West be Spartans, and may 
 patriotism triumph over sordid motives of gain. Throw
 
 IN VICKSBURG AND OUT 223 
 
 all those volumes into the fire, or bury them a mile 
 deep, that the teachings of Emerson and Longfellow 
 may not be allowed to corrupt the morals of our people." 
 
 " Burn them ! use them as Mahomet used the 
 library of Alexandria, for fuel to heat the baths," 
 cried Major Sharp dramatically, as he turned to 
 the financial page. 
 
 FINANCIAL. 
 
 " There was never a better time to pay off debts than 
 at present. Money is plenty. Send in your subscrip 
 tions ! 
 
 " Beware of counterfeit bills. There are very clever 
 counterfeits of the hundred and five hundred dollar 
 issues in circulation. One of our most respected mer 
 chants, in counting up his cash last night, discovered to 
 his horror that of five thousand dollars he had two thou 
 sand in bad bills. 
 
 " The man who would debase the national currency 
 during the present crisis is a fool as well as a knave. 
 
 " Scrutinize all your money closely. The witticism 
 of the fellow who said the other day that it did not mat 
 ter much whether he took good or bad bills is beneath 
 contempt. 
 
 " Sugar advanced fifty cents a pound yesterday, but 
 cotton is a dollar fifty a pound in New York." 
 
 " Cotton is still king ! " cried the major jubi 
 lantly. 
 
 IN LIGHTER VEIN. 
 
 " The department has curtailed the rations of meat, 
 but as long as there is left to us one ounce of mulesteak 
 we will hold out. 
 
 " By the way, who said mulesteak was tough ?
 
 224 THE CLAYBORNES 
 
 " Succulent kitten fricassees are now being served at 
 Bailey's restaurant. 
 
 " Cold mule-tongue k la Bray is a tasty thing for 
 luncheon these hot days." 
 
 " Here is a conundrum, Clayborne," said the 
 major, with twinkling eye, as he carefully folded 
 his newspaper : 
 
 " If Ulysses spent ten years before the walls of 
 Troy, how long will it take his modern namesake 
 to capture Vicksburg ? " and whistling cheerily, 
 the major set himself to the duties of the day. 
 
 Grant was closing in on Yicksburg. With that 
 persistence which ignores opposition he had pressed 
 steadily forward. Within the few weeks since 
 crossing the Mississippi, his men had marched two 
 hundred miles. Placed between two armies, the 
 combined forces of which outnumbered his own, he 
 had fought and won five battles, taking many pris 
 oners. He had beaten Johnston off, and driven 
 Pemberton back into Vicksburg. " We have been 
 lucky in meeting the enemy in detail," was Grant's 
 simple way of describing a campaign as unprece 
 dented and extraordinary as it was brilliant and 
 successful. 
 
 The relentless coil of his victorious armies tight 
 ened around the helpless city. 
 
 With that courage which does not know defeat 
 even when staring it in the face, the Confederates 
 held the town. Starving, they talked bravely of 
 plenty ; overwhelmed, they talked cheerfully of the 
 prospect of the siege being raised.
 
 IN VICKSBURG AND OUT 225 
 
 Twice did the Union forces storm the breast 
 works, and each time they were repulsed with loss. 
 " We are invincible," called down the lean but 
 defiant Southerner from his rampart. " It will 
 take your General Grant ten years to subdue us." 
 
 " I will capture the city if it takes thrice ten 
 years," replied the determined Grant ; and with 
 his army reinforced so that he no longer feared 
 Johnston, who was hovering in his rear, Grant sat 
 down before the walls. Close up to the enemy's 
 works his army pressed, throwing aside the musket 
 for the spade, and building its own defenses under 
 the muzzles of the enemy's guns. 
 
 The opposing armies were not always engaged 
 in deadly strife. The confronting batteries were 
 sometimes silent and at rest. How marvelously 
 inconsistent is man ! He can view thousands of 
 his enemy mowed down hi the hot charge of battle 
 without a quiver of sympathy ; he can calmly de 
 vise and construct a devilish mine, and coolly touch 
 it off, blowing his fellow creatures into eternity. 
 But when the battle has ceased, and the work of 
 destruction is over, he will minister alike to friend 
 and foe. He alleviates the suffering of his groan 
 ing enemy. He tries to restore the wonderrul 
 mechanism of the same human body which a short 
 time ago he was passionately striving to tear apart. 
 He will even take from his own thirsty lips the 
 cup of precious water and moisten the parched 
 tongue of his dying foe. He can bayonet his as 
 sailant, and hurl him from the parapets with as
 
 226 THE CLAYBORNES 
 
 little feeling as if he were sticking a pig ; and when 
 the assault is over, when the besieger has drawn 
 back his attacking force, when the besieged is again 
 strengthening his defenses, these bitter struggling 
 foes of a few hours before can bandy words of jest 
 and exchange rough courtesies. 
 
 " Hi, there ! what are you Yanks a-doing ? " 
 yells a lusty throated Confederate. 
 
 " Guarding thirty thousand of you Johnny Rebs, 
 and making you feed yourselves," is the reply. 
 
 " When is old Grant going to take Vicksburg ?" 
 
 " Any day now when he has a mind to." 
 
 " Reckon he '11 change his mind when Johnston 
 comes a little nearer." 
 
 " Johnston 's skedaddling in the other direction 
 as fast as he can go." 
 
 " Reckon he '11 fool yer and be back again. 
 Then we '11 have Grant right where we want him, 
 and he can't run away." 
 
 " Grant 's not one of the running kind. Guess 
 you '11 know him better before long." 
 
 " I reckon it 11 be a long time before you know 
 us any better if you stay out there. Why don't 
 you come in and get us ? " 
 
 " Easier work sitting here and starving you 
 out." * 
 
 " Huh, you '11 never do that. We 've got all 
 the rations we can eat. We '11 be feeding you 
 all before the summer is over." 
 
 Silence for a few moments. 
 
 "Hi! I say, Yank!"
 
 IN VICKSBURG AND OUT 227 
 
 " What do you want, Reb ? " 
 
 " Got any coffee ? " 
 
 " I guess I can get a little." 
 
 " Reckon if you could I can find a little smok 
 ing tobacco to give you in exchange." 
 
 " All right, throw it over ; anything to oblige 
 you." 
 
 And while the pickets laughed and smoked and 
 chaffed together, the persistent army of the be 
 siegers settled firmly and still more firmly about 
 the city. The besieged was slowly drawing nearer 
 to his last loaf of bread ; he could see his last 
 ounce of powder. Thus war goes on. Strange 
 inconsistency of the human mind, each side was 
 fighting for a principle dearer than life itself. 
 
 One hot June afternoon Gordon Clayborne had 
 come into the prison yard for exercise and recrea 
 tion. The exercise he got by walking up and 
 down over a stretch of hot sun-baked earth where 
 some negroes were throwing up the dirt to 
 strengthen the ramparts ; the recreation he found in 
 contemplating a pair of Confederate sharpshooters 
 exchanging occasional courtesies with some Union 
 riflemen and whiling away the time between shots 
 by playing seven-up with a greasy pack of cards. 
 As the game grew interesting one of the sharp 
 shooters placed his cap over the muzzle of his rifle, 
 and exposing it gingerly to draw the enemy's fire, 
 proceeded with the deal. He did not have to wait 
 long. Zip ! came a bullet, piercing the cap and 
 whistling off into space. " Mighty lucky my skull
 
 228 THE CLAYBORNES 
 
 wasn't in that cap," he exclaimed with noncha 
 lance ; " I play the Jack." 
 
 Ping ! came another bullet, striking the rifle bar 
 rel, glancing off through the pack of cards at the 
 dealer's elbow, scattering them like leaves ; con 
 tinuing its singing flight perilously near the head 
 of a digging negro, finally to burrow deep into the 
 soft earth. " Golly, dat came near biting dis nig 
 ger's ear," cried the darky, jumping out of the 
 trench with alacrity and revealing to Gordon the 
 shining, smiling countenance of Apollo. " Fo' 
 de Lawd, hit 's Marse Clay bun, hit certainly is," 
 cried Apollo, forgetting his fright in his surprise. 
 " What you a-doin' yeah, Marse Claybun ? " 
 
 " That is what I should ask of you, Apollo. The 
 last I heard of you, you were on board of a steam 
 boat bound for St. Louis." 
 
 Apollo looked about him furtively to make sure 
 that no one was within earshot. " I dun got 
 tuck, marse." 
 
 " That was very foolish of you, Apollo." 
 
 " I know dat. I 's terruble careless. I lak dat 
 steamboat so much I stayed dar all winter, den I 
 gets on one ob Marse Porter's gumboats " 
 
 " One of Admiral Porter's gunboats, Apollo ? " 
 
 " Yas, suh, and dat yeah li'le gumboat gets stuck 
 in de mud and we alls wuz kotched. Dat 's how I 
 come to be workin' yeah mo' 'n I eber work on de 
 ole marse's plantation." 
 
 " You were exceedingly unfortunate, Apollo. 
 You should have remained in St. Louis."
 
 IN VICKSBURG AND OUT 229 
 
 " Marse Claybun, I doan't mine dat. I 's used 
 to being kotched. I doan't mine dis work, and I 
 can 'scape mos' any day I 's a min' to." 
 
 "How's that?" 
 
 " I can get out of Vicksburg mos' any time I 's 
 a min' to, marse. I knows de way," repeated 
 Apollo, grinning widely. " Yas, suh, I certainly 
 kin, but I 's mighty sorry to see you a prisoner, 
 Marse Claybun. Lawd, how tough you mus' fin' 
 dis yeah mule meat." 
 
 "I'll have to put up with it, until General 
 Grant captures the city, Apollo." 
 
 Clayborne continuing his walk, Apollo made a 
 step as if to follow after, a look of subtlety ap 
 pearing on his broad features. Then suddenly 
 changing his mind, he leaped back into his ditch 
 and began digging away vigorously, singing to him 
 self as he worked : 
 
 " Hoi' your light, Brudder Robert, 
 Hoi' your light ; 
 
 Hoi' your light on Canaan's shore. 
 What make ole Satan fer follow me so ? 
 Satan ain't got notin' fer do wid me. 
 
 Hoi' your light, 
 Hoi' your light on Canaan's shore. 
 Jordan Riber I 'm bound to go, 
 Bound to go, bound to go, 
 Jordan Riber I 'm bound to go, 
 And bid 'em fare ye well. 
 
 " We '11 cross de mighty riber, 
 My army cross over,
 
 230 THE CLAYBORNES 
 
 We '11 cross de Riber Jordan, 
 We '11 cross de danger water, 
 My army cross over, 
 Pharoah's army drowned, 
 My army cross over." 
 
 The darky's weird incantation sounded in Gor 
 don Clayborne's ears as he walked back to his 
 room, and through the open window was borne by 
 the evening breeze the faint echoes of the chant, 
 
 " Pharoah's army drowned 
 My army cross over." 
 
 The night was hot, and Gordon Clayborne sat with 
 his nose to the window bars to get what air he 
 could. Fetid and sultry, still it was better than 
 the stifling atmosphere of the interior. Upon the 
 parapets outside walked the sentinels. Lean and 
 pinched they were. With hollow eyes and skin like 
 parchment drawn over their lantern jaws, they 
 stalked the night like the half-starved wolf. The 
 eyes burned bright in the sunken sockets and the 
 fingers which closed nervously on the musket-stock 
 were still strong and sinewy. The last ounce of 
 food, the last charge of powder, were in sight, but 
 surrender was not yet written on their faces. 
 
 Gordon took from his pocket a newspaper three 
 weeks old and read it by the light of an old lan 
 tern at his elbow. 
 
 A flying beetle, looking as lean and hungry as 
 the most emaciated of the besieged, was trying to 
 end its miserable existence by feeding upon the 
 flame ; varying its attempts at self-destruction by
 
 IN VICKSBURG AND OUT 231 
 
 flying noisily about the room, now and then bring 
 ing up with a thud against the walls and falling 
 to the floor, there to recover itself and again take 
 wing to resume its stupid round. 
 
 So deeply interested was Gordon Clayborne that 
 he did not hear a step behind him, and was not 
 aware of another presence in the room until he felt 
 a gentle twitch at the skirt of his coat. Turning 
 suddenly he saw, to his astonishment, Apollo stand 
 ing in the semi-obscurity, with his large bony finger 
 to his lips, enjoining silence. 
 
 " What are you doing here, Apollo ? " 
 
 " Hist, Marse Claybun, make no sound. Apollo 
 has come fer to 'scape de captain. Marse Clay- 
 bun lemme go free once. Now I 'se come to set 
 him free jis' like Marse Lincum's sojers," and 
 Apollo grinned widely at the thought of acting the 
 part of a liberator. 
 
 Clayborne shook his head, smiling at the sim 
 plicity of the darky. 
 
 " There 's no chance for me to escape, Apollo. 
 There are sentinels posted outside. Even if I 
 succeeded in getting past them, there are three 
 or four sets of outworks, each carefully manned, 
 and the men are watchful and vigilant ; on the look 
 out for Yankee surprises." 
 
 " I tink Marse Claybun wanted to 'scape," said 
 Apollo, with a crestfallen manner. 
 
 "I should like to get out very much," an 
 swered Clayborne, " but there is no use attempting 
 the impossible."
 
 232 THE CLAYBORNES 
 
 " I know de passwords fer de sentries," per 
 sisted Apollo cheerfully. 
 
 " You do ? " Gordon spoke with more inter 
 est. 
 
 " Yas, suh, dar am two : ' Constitushum ' fer de 
 inside sentries, an' ' Biber Lights ' fer dose on de 
 outside works." 
 
 " Are you sure of that, Apollo ? " 
 
 The darky looked aggrieved. " If Marse Clay- 
 bun wan' to 'scape hit 's jis' ez easy jis' ez easy 
 ez rollin' off a log." 
 
 "How?" 
 
 " Outside de city, far outside, mo' 'an 'leven mile 
 down de riber," said Apollo, waving his arm with 
 a wide sweep, " lib a lady," and the darky stopped 
 here, rolling his eyes impressively. 
 
 " A lady ? What has she to do with the mat 
 ter ? " interrogated Clay borne. 
 
 " Yas, suh," repeated Apollo emphatically ; " a 
 lady wid no husban'." 
 
 " A maiden lady ? " 
 
 " No, marse, dat is not wat dey calls her. Her 
 husban' is dead." 
 
 " Oh, a widow." 
 
 "Yas, suh." 
 
 "Well, Apollo, what have widow ladies to do 
 with my escape ? " 
 
 " Der 's a youn' 'federate officer dat I know of," 
 continued Apollo, allowing his voice to drop still 
 lower ; " he go to see dis wider lady on seberal 
 occashuns."
 
 IN VICKSBURG AND OUT 233 
 
 " What ! in spite of the Union lines, Apollo ? 
 Nonsense ! " 
 
 "Lawd sak', Marse Claybun, you dun know dis 
 youn' officer ; fire nor flood cud n't keep him 'way 
 from de ladies. He 's been to see dis wider lady 
 'thout gettin' kotched, an' I dun go wid him on 
 one of dese occashuns." 
 
 "Apollo, are you telling me the truth?" 
 
 " 'Deed I is, marse, 'deed an' 'deed I is," de 
 clared the darky with great earnestness. " I go 
 wid him ez his servant. And hit is jis' so much 
 easier to go wid Marse Claybun 'cause we doan't 
 hab to 'scape from Marse Lincum's sojers 'cause 
 dey 're our fren's." 
 
 " Apollo, I 've a good mind to skin your black 
 hide for raising my hopes like this. I could not 
 run the sentries even though I did know the pass 
 words. Some one would suspect or recognize me." 
 
 "Marse Claybun," whispered Apollo, "you jis' 
 put on the coat which I brought, and you cum wid 
 me ; jis' ez shu ez you lib we '11 get pass dese 
 'federates." He produced a package from which 
 he took out a coat of a Confederate major. 
 
 " Hit's his dress coat," the darky added, with a 
 chuckle, " de one he always wears when he visit de 
 ladies. 'Pears lak hit 's scand'lous wicked fer me 
 to steal it, an' I would n't do it fer anybody but 
 Marse Claybun." 
 
 Gordon looked at the serious black face for a 
 moment, then throwing off his coat slipped into the 
 gray one, saying as he did so: "Apollo, if you
 
 234 THE CLAYBORNES 
 
 value your black hide, you 'd better be careful how 
 you aid prisoners to escape." 
 
 The African grinned widely. " Ma black hide 's 
 wuf a good deal to me, but Lawd sak's, Marse 
 Claybun, we alls is too cute to get kotched dis time. 
 In dis yeah basket wat I 'se got is de rations for 
 de orficers' mess. Dey is mighty po' pickin's and 
 dey is a-gettin' wurs an' wurs ebery day. I '11 jis' 
 go out wid dese rations and you foller along lak you 
 'spected I run off wid 'em. Den when we all gets 
 out of dis yeah commissionary we kin pass by all 
 de sentries, wid you a-sayin' de countersign, an' 
 lookin' lak you does." 
 
 "All right, lead the way, Apollo." 
 
 The sentry at the outer door of the building 
 gave them but a glance as they went by. Apollo's 
 black features were as set as polished bronze, and 
 he walked as though he had no thought beyond 
 the basket in his hand. Gordon Clayborne re 
 turned the soldier's salute, and walked noncha 
 lantly out. Through the fortifications and past 
 the outer works the countersign and the gray uni 
 form carried them until they stood in the open 
 space outside the furthest defenses. 
 
 Quickly followed by Apollo, Clayborne climbed 
 a steep hill, and throwing himself on the ground 
 looked back at the city they had left. It lay in 
 silence and darkness, save when the voice of the 
 changing guards, or the occasional flash of a gun 
 with its singing shell, broke the stillness of the 
 night air.
 
 IN VICKSBURG AND OUT 235 
 
 Gordon Clayborne continued looking down upon 
 the city for a few moments, then turning to the 
 negro, whispered : 
 
 " Where are the Union pickets, Apollo ? " 
 
 " Dey is about " began the darky ; but the 
 sentence ended in a stifled yell, for he had been 
 seized by the ankles and thrown violently to the 
 ground. 
 
 Hands had been laid upon Clayborne at the 
 same time. His instinct always led him to fight 
 back, but he was almost immediately overpowered, 
 and lay stretched upon the turf with a man on his 
 chest and another on his legs. 
 
 They had fallen among some Union scouts, who 
 had been quietly inspecting the Confederate bat 
 teries from the same knoll. When Clayborne be 
 came aware who his captors were, he announced 
 his name, grade, and regiment. 
 
 " Then what in the deuce are you doing here, 
 and why are you wearing that gray coat ? " was 
 the natural inquiry. 
 
 " I have just escaped from Vicksburg, and this 
 coat aided me in getting past their sentries. Don't 
 you tie my hands," he continued, resisting vigor 
 ously. " 1 11 go with you quietly enough. I 'm 
 only too anxious to get within the Union lines." 
 
 " Very well, come along then. We shall turn 
 you over to the provost marshal. He can examine 
 into the truth of your story." 
 
 " All right, as long as you take me to him at 
 once," answered Clayborne.
 
 236 THE CLAYBORNES 
 
 A few minutes later they stood before the pro 
 vost marshal's tent. Apollo's black face showed 
 signs of fear. He did not understand such treat 
 ment in the hands of " Marse Lincum's sojers." 
 
 " Marshal, here 's a man whom we found skulk 
 ing about in the dark in the company of a negro. 
 He says he 's an officer of the th regiment." 
 
 " I am Captain Gordon Clayborne, Company D, 
 th regiment," said Gordon haughtily, for he 
 was fast losing patience. 
 
 The provost marshal jumped to his feet with a 
 cry: 
 
 " Captain Clayborne, I have an order for your 
 arrest ! " 
 
 " My arrest ! Nonsense, marshal, I have been 
 a prisoner in Vicksburg for the past six weeks." 
 
 " The warrant is dated several weeks back, and 
 I take you into immediate custody." 
 
 " You 're crazy, marshal. This is an outrage, 
 and I won't submit to it ! Send at once to my 
 regiment ! Send for my colonel ! Send to the 
 general of brigade if you like " 
 
 " No, sir," interrupted the provost marshal, " I 
 know my business." 
 
 " Upon what charge do you dare lay hands upon 
 me ? " cried Clayborne hotly. 
 
 " Upon three charges," replied the marshal, 
 taking a paper from his pocket. " For permitting 
 a prisoner to escape, for desertion, and treason." 
 
 " Deserting ! " exclaimed Clayborne. " Great 
 heavens, I was captured by the enemy while trying
 
 IN VICKSBURG AND OUT 237 
 
 to run the Vicksburg batteries, and you call that 
 ' desertion ! ' This is infamous ! Who dares ac 
 cuse me of treason ! " 
 
 " I can't answer any questions, Captain Clay- 
 borne. My duty is merely to take you into cus 
 tody wherever found," said the provost marshal 
 dryly.
 
 CHAPTER XVH 
 
 ULYSSES TAKES HIS TROY 
 
 THE unexpected and the inevitable had come to 
 pass : unexpected, because the sanguine courage of 
 the South could never see defeat until staring it 
 in the face ; inevitable, because from the moment 
 Grant's army had crossed the Mississippi it had 
 gone forward to decisive victory. 
 
 The modern Ulysses had at last taken Troy, and 
 Major Sharp's office had witnessed the paroling of 
 thirty thousand Southern prisoners. The North 
 went wild with excitement over this and another 
 great victory ; and from that fourth day of July 
 when Vicksburg surrendered and the battle of 
 Gettysburg was fought, the tide turned in the 
 fortunes of the Union. 
 
 General Ulysses S. Grant, with Dame Fortune 
 showering her golden favors upon him, with an 
 exultant nation in a delirium of joy crowning him 
 with the laurel wreath, was the same imperturbable, 
 unobtrusive gentleman who had suffered adversity 
 and borne unjust accusations with silent and heroic 
 fortitude. 
 
 He took this ebullition of emotion at its true 
 value ; he heard with a quaint smile of amusement
 
 ULYSSES TAKES HIS TROY 239 
 
 how his name was honored by being bestowed on 
 every kind of progeny from babies black and 
 white to kittens and puppies ; and he accepted 
 the Sunday-school medals, university degrees, 
 houses, swords, and horses as the customary trib 
 utes to newly made heroes. He had won success. 
 He had silenced his traducers. Once for all he 
 had stilled ignorant criticism. He had won the 
 lasting confidence of the people, and he now set 
 his determined face in the direction of the further 
 work at hand. 
 
 He was seated in his headquarters writing letters 
 and dispatches in his rapid, irregular hand when 
 Benjamin Chesterfield entered. Without looking 
 up, the general shifted his cigar and said cordially : 
 " Well, Chesterfield, what is the news ? " 
 
 "You are spoken of as a candidate for the 
 presidency." 
 
 Grant laughed. " It also appears that without 
 my knowledge I have been initiated into a large 
 number of secret societies, and that half a hun 
 dred of the most distinguished social, literary, and 
 artistic clubs of the country have honored me with 
 membership. I certainly cannot consider any men 
 tion of my name in connection with the presidency 
 at this time as serious." 
 
 " But it is serious, General ; prominent poli 
 ticians are mentioning your name, and many peo 
 ple throughout the country are asking whether 
 you would not be an available candidate." 
 
 "Then such discussion should be stopped at
 
 240 THE CLAYBORNES 
 
 once," exclaimed Grant earnestly, looking up from 
 his work. " There is only one man who should 
 be thought of for the place, and that man is 
 Abraham Lincoln. Not one straw should be 
 allowed to stand in the way of his renomination." 
 The general spoke with decision, and turned again 
 to his writing. " I have just been made major- 
 general in the regular service. Is that not enougli 
 honor for any man ? " he added pleasantly. 
 
 " You have my warmest congratulations, General 
 Grant," replied Chesterfield, " and you must not 
 think my congratulations the less sincere because 
 of my coming to you among the first to ask a 
 favor." 
 
 Grant looked up inquiringly. 
 
 " A young friend of mine has got into trouble, 
 and I want to help get him out ; particularly as I 
 was indirectly the instrument, although the inno 
 cent instrument, of bringing about the situation 
 which led to his undoing." 
 
 " Who is the man ? " asked Grant, who had again 
 turned to the writing on the pine table before him. 
 
 " Captain Gordon Clayborne. He was held 
 prisoner here in Vicksburg by the rebels. He 
 escaped, and falling into the hands of the provost 
 marshal, was arrested on the charge of treason." 
 
 " The War Department has ordered that Captain 
 Clayborne be sent immediately to Washington, 
 where he is to be tried by court-martial," answered 
 General Grant abruptly. 
 
 " So I understand," replied Chesterfield, " but
 
 ULYSSES TAKES HIS TROY 241 
 
 I wish you would permit me to tell you a few facts, 
 which probably do not appear in any report, and 
 which are not likely to appear upon any of the 
 records." 
 
 " Go ahead." 
 
 " You see there is a woman in the case. This 
 Mora Dowd, which, by the way is not her real 
 name, is a bewitching beauty with a voice like an 
 angel. In reality she is a little devil. She is 
 clever, too deuced clever for an ordinary mortal. 
 Her ruling passion is her devotion to the cause she 
 has espoused. To this she would sacrifice any 
 thing or anybody who came in her way. She has 
 been in Memphis, St. Louis, even Washington. 
 She has got any quantity of valuable information 
 from our officers. I don't mean young boyish 
 lieutenants and volunteer captains, but regular 
 officers of the line have been captivated by her 
 wiles. She can bring a hoary-headed old general 
 to her feet, or wind a young subaltern around 
 her finger as easily as she can eat an orange ; and 
 she can throw them away just as easily as she 
 tosses aside the orange skin. Now this Captain 
 Clayborne is a gallant young fellow, generous and 
 warm-hearted, with certain ideas of chivalry which 
 have been in his blood for generations. Unfor 
 tunately he had command of the boat which was 
 bringing this fair and dangerous prisoner down 
 the river. During the trip she worked upon his 
 sympathies. She entered the plea of old friend 
 ship, bewitched him, ensnared him, got him under
 
 242 THE CLAYBORNES 
 
 her spell in such a way that he came to believe he 
 was in honor bound to release her. That 's the 
 whole story in a nutshell, General. The man will 
 be convicted of the charge against him. Let him 
 be pardoned and reinstated." 
 
 " I have no authority to exercise clemency in 
 this case, Chesterfield. That rests with the Presi 
 dent," 
 
 " The President is not very likely to refuse you 
 anything just now." 
 
 General Grant sat a few moments in thought. 
 
 " I don't mind telling you, Chesterfield, I had 
 been giving the subject some thought before you 
 came in." 
 
 " Then you will do something for him ? " 
 
 " I dislike very much to interfere in any per 
 sonal way with the work of the War Department, 
 but I have decided at least to see Captain Clay- 
 borne and to form my own opinion as to the 
 extent of his guilt." 
 
 " I am sure that such an investigation will re 
 sult favorably to Captain Clayborne," said Ches 
 terfield with earnestness. " I hope you will not 
 consider me officious in speaking of the matter." 
 
 " Not at all," answered the general pleasantly. 
 " I am glad to get this additional light on the 
 subject." 
 
 When the newspaper correspondent had left, 
 General Grant turned to his orderly. " Send for 
 Captain Gordon Clayborne." 
 
 On the table before the general was a letter.
 
 ULYSSES TAKES HIS TROY 243 
 
 It was an autograph letter from the President of 
 the United States, and it spoke in warm-hearted, 
 generous terms of the general's success, giving him 
 unstinted credit for the victory he had won. 
 
 General Grant reread this letter carefully, and 
 then taking up his pen, busied himself in writing 
 the reply. While he was thus engaged Captain 
 Clayborne was brought into the room. When he 
 had finished writing, the general turned in his 
 chair, and swinging one leg over the other in an 
 easy attitude, looked attentively at the young man 
 who stood there, erect and soldierly, yet with a 
 certain easy grace and freedom from embarrass 
 ment which came to him by nature. He had just 
 learned that he had been summoned to Washing 
 ton. The thought of possible public disgrace burnt 
 like hot iron within him. His spirit leaped up in 
 resentment. He knew he could not endure such 
 a punishment. Therefore it was in no humble 
 frame of mind that he confronted the general in 
 the loose blue coat and rusty hat, who sat looking 
 at him intently out of his steel-blue eyes. 
 
 Success was dear to Gordon Clayborne, and he 
 had failed. He was a man of true courage and 
 ardent feeling, who held his life but lightly in the 
 scale with honor or with duty. Touch his honor 
 and you touched him to the quick. Accuse him 
 of treachery and you drew forth fire. 
 
 His honor had called upon him to release a 
 woman, a mistaken idea of honor some might 
 call it, yet it was his idea. His conscience acquitted
 
 244 THE CLAYBORNES 
 
 him of any serious wrong-doing. In his heart he 
 felt he had not been disloyal to the nation. There 
 fore he returned the piercing gaze with the look of 
 hauteur which upon occasion the Claybornes could 
 so easily assume. 
 
 Grant, who never forgot a face, broke the silence 
 by asking in his sharp, abrupt way, " Are you 
 not the officer who commanded the company in a 
 skirmish at La Grange a year ago last June ? " 
 
 " I am, sir." 
 
 "A few months later, in an expedition across 
 the Tennessee, did you not rescue an officer from 
 drowning ? " 
 
 Again Gordon bowed. 
 
 " Then all I have to say, Captain Clayborne, is 
 that I do not believe that a man who conducted 
 himself with such bravery as you did upon those 
 occasions has been guilty of treason." 
 
 One timely word of sympathy, encouragement, 
 or confidence may often change the current of a 
 man's life. 
 
 Gordon had come into the presence of the com 
 manding general in a reckless, desperate mood, 
 which made him ripe for almost anything. A word 
 of severity might have caused his proud spirit to 
 burst forth in some retort or some overt act of 
 insubordination which would have led to his com 
 plete ruin. The frank avowal of the general 
 touched him. His hostility was completely dis 
 armed. He did not make any immediate reply, but 
 the mask of pride which he had worn dropped away.
 
 ULYSSES TAKES HIS TROY 245 
 
 " The War Department has ordered that you be 
 sent to Washington," Grant went on abruptly. 
 
 A flush deepened on Gordon's cheek, his dark 
 eyes flashed aggressively, and he threw back his 
 head like a restive horse under a stinging lash. If 
 he had spoken, it would have been to give some 
 reply of defiance, but with an effort he held him 
 self in check. 
 
 " If you will agree to go directly to Washington 
 and to endeavor to subdue your feeling of pride 
 and resentment, you shall go unaccompanied by 
 any guard," continued the general quietly. 
 
 Gordon hesitated. He had made up his mind 
 that he could never stand the disgrace of a court- 
 martial and live, yet the generosity of the general 
 moved him greatly. 
 
 " Let me give you a piece of advice," said the 
 general dryly. " If you 've done anything which 
 makes you amenable to discipline, make up your 
 mind to face the music. If your conscience ac 
 quits you of any graver crime, so much the easier 
 should it be for you." 
 
 " I give my parole," answered Gordon slowly, 
 " and thank you for your confidence." 
 
 " Very well. You shall be relieved from re 
 straint at once. You will start East to-night." 
 Grant summoned his orderly, gave a few quick 
 orders, and the interview closed with a brisk " Good- 
 afternoon, Captain Clayborne." 
 
 As Clayborne left the room General Grant took 
 up his pen and wrote rapidly a few lines, which he
 
 246 THE CLAYBORNES 
 
 folded and addressed to the chief executive of the 
 nation. This letter he enclosed under cover to the 
 newspaper correspondent, Chesterfield. 
 
 Clayborne walked out of headquarters with his 
 heart warm with a deep regard for the man who 
 had given such a generous testimony of his confi 
 dence. 
 
 As he walked through the battered streets of 
 Vicksburg he saw many Confederate soldiers who 
 were kept waiting in the city until their paroles 
 could be made out and signed. The blue coats 
 and the gray were freely intermingled, and men 
 who for months had been opposing each other with 
 bitter determination were seen seated together 
 upon street corners, amicably playing euchre, or 
 eating from the same loaf, while they discussed the 
 campaign under the very shadow of walls so crip 
 pled with cannon-shot that they stood tottering 
 upon their foundations. 
 
 Regina Bowie had returned, and remained in 
 Vicksburg during all the evacuation. 
 
 Before the ink was dry on the terms of sur 
 render, Regina had laid aside her coat of gray 
 for a less marked costume. She could be of much 
 greater service to her cause as a woman than as a 
 prisoner of war, and as her name appeared upon 
 no muster-roll, Miss Bowie bade adieu to her brass 
 buttons, ceasing to be " major," to retire into the 
 less obtrusive, but for the present more valuable, 
 character of an attractive young woman dressed in 
 black. Regina could change her character with her
 
 247 
 
 gown, she could change an admirer as easily as she 
 could take off a pair of gloves ; but it would have 
 been well-nigh impossible for her to have appeared 
 in any role that did not include beauty and charm. 
 Through the folds of her dark veil, Miss Bowie 
 had seen worn-out, hungry soldiers throw down 
 their arms, and surrender the city they had so long 
 and so valiantly defended. The eyes behind that 
 veil flashed with resentment, and the woman's 
 hands were clinched as she witnessed this humiliat 
 ing scene. She gave no further outward sign of 
 her emotion, but the fire within her heart burned 
 fiercely. Thus Regina, remaining in Vicksburg 
 after the surrender, had been able to inform her 
 self upon many subjects of value and interest. 
 Among other things she learned that Captain 
 Clayborne was held in arrest under the charge of 
 having permitted some prisoners to escape. It was 
 therefore with surprise that she saw him enjoying 
 apparent freedom. She felt sure that her informa 
 tion had been correct, yet here was an apparent 
 contradiction of it. She smelled a mystery here, 
 and resolved to discover what it was. 
 
 Meanwhile Gordon made the preparations for 
 his departure to Washington that night. A steamer 
 would take him to Memphis, whence he could go 
 by rail to the East. It was with varied emotions 
 that he stepped aboard the boat which lay at the 
 wharf, ready to steam securely up the river, past 
 the silent and now friendly guns, which had given 
 him such a disastrous welcome a few weeks before.
 
 248 THE CLAYBORNES 
 
 He had no sooner seen his baggage deposited 
 in his stateroom than the shining face of Apollo 
 appeared at the door. 
 
 "Well, you black rascal, where did you come 
 from, and why did you run off and leave me so 
 unceremoniously the other night when I was in the 
 hands of the provost marshal ? " Clayborne de 
 manded with affected sternness. 
 
 " Lawd, Marse Claybun, runnin* jis' cums 
 nat'ral to dis nigger," was the cheerful reply. " I 
 cud n't do no good by stay in', and ma black hide 
 wuf consid'ble to me, so I jis' run off. But I fin' 
 I 'se a free nigger now, and I ain't afeared of de 
 provost marshal ox no one else no more," and 
 Apollo drew himself up proudly. 
 
 " Well, you ' free nigger,' what are you going 
 to do now ? " asked Clayborne, laughing good 
 humoredly. 
 
 " I 'se a-goin' to wuk on de riber boats for the 
 res' of ma life, and I '11 do eberyting I kin for 
 Marse Claybun."
 
 CHAPTER XVIII 
 
 BEFORE THE COURT 
 
 DURING the few days which were occupied by 
 the journey between Vicksburg and Washington, 
 Gordon Clayborne had ample time for thought, 
 and to fortify his mind to meet the ordeal through 
 which he must pass. He had determined to face 
 the consequences of his action with self-restraint 
 and coolness; but when the time for the court- 
 martial actually arrived, and he found himself 
 facing the array of officers who had been called to 
 serve upon the board, Clayborne felt his stoicism 
 somewhat shaken. He was to be tried before the 
 highest tribunal of the United States army ; and 
 the thirteen members of the board, attired in full- 
 dress uniform, formed an imposing body of men. 
 They were dignified in bearing, and of impartial 
 mind ; their sole purpose was to do their duty. 
 
 The accused was also in full dress, with the ex 
 ception of his sword. Outwardly he looked as if 
 he had been summoned to a review ; but there was 
 a light in his eye and a glow on his cheek which 
 told that beneath the surface the hot blood was 
 surging. The minutes went by, and the prepara 
 tions for the trial proceeded with due deliberation
 
 250 THE CLAYBORNES 
 
 and solemnity. Besides the board of court-mar 
 tial, the counsel and the witnesses, there were 
 some twoscore persons in the court-room. They 
 were all connected with the army. Among them 
 Clayborne at once recognized the thin, clear-cut 
 features of General Ware. The general's face was 
 stern, and looked coldly at Gordon, who, stung to 
 the quick by the cutting severity in those cold gray 
 eyes, turned proudly away. How different was the 
 general's severe attitude to that of his daughter ! 
 In Gordon's pocket was a note from her, a few 
 hurriedly written lines, yet they made his heart 
 warm towards the generous-minded girl who had 
 written them, and even made him look upon the 
 general's coldness with more indulgence. 
 
 " I have just learned," the letter ran, " that you 
 are in Washington and in trouble ; that you are 
 to be tried by a court-martial upon a horrible 
 charge. It was wrong of you not to let me know 
 about this yourself. I have only time to write 
 these few lines to reach you before the trial, but 
 you must know that I do not for one moment 
 believe you guilty, or consider you other than a 
 victim of some terrible misunderstanding which 
 will now be explained. If I wrote volumes I could 
 not say more than this ; and that I believe impli 
 citly that you could never be guilty of any dishon 
 orable action." 
 
 Gordon had earnestly wished to see Miss Ware, 
 but with the cloud of such a serious charge hang 
 ing over him he had shrunk from approaching her.
 
 BEFORE THE COURT 251 
 
 He supposed she was ignorant of his presence in 
 Washington and of the unfortunate affair which 
 had brought him there. Who her informant had 
 been he did not know, nor could he guess just 
 what the information was that she had received ; 
 but the tone of the letter disclosed to him such a 
 nobleness of soul in the young girl that he felt his 
 heart glow afresh every time he thought of the 
 generous words she had sent to him. 
 
 The day before the court-martial, as General 
 Ware was about to leave his house to go to the 
 War Department, he had received a call from a 
 sandy-bearded young man in a well-worn uniform. 
 " General Ware," he said, " I am Lieutenant 
 Brainard. I am in Washington on official busi 
 ness, and I wish to have a few minutes' conversa 
 tion with you." 
 
 " Meet me at my office in half an hour, Lieu 
 tenant," replied General Ware courteously. 
 
 " With your permission I should like to speak 
 to you now, and also say a few words to your 
 daughter." 
 
 " Upon what subject, may I inquire ? " 
 
 " Upon an official matter of some importance." 
 
 General Ware was a man of few words. Bow 
 ing slightly, he sent a servant to summon his 
 daughter. She appeared almost immediately. 
 
 " Marjorie," said the father, " this is Lieuten 
 ant Brainard, who has just come to Washington 
 from Vicksburg. He has something to say to 
 us."
 
 252 THE CLAYBORNES 
 
 Any one fresh from the theatre of war excited 
 the utmost interest. 
 
 " I am glad to see you, Lieutenant Brainard," 
 said Marjorie, with a cordial ring to her voice. 
 Her heart beat rapidly, for she felt that some im 
 portant news must be in store for them. 
 
 " General Ware," said Brainard, looking closely 
 at the girl, " I knew your son ; the resemblance is 
 strong." 
 
 The general's immobile countenance gave no 
 sign of the emotion he felt ; but a look of pain 
 came quickly across Marjorie's face. From the 
 tune she had first learned that Frank was missing 
 she had clung to the hope that he might be alive, 
 although a prisoner ; but since the fall of Vicks- 
 burg the light of that hope had been fading fast, 
 and Lieutenant Brainard's words only reminded 
 her of the loss. 
 
 Brainard saw the shade on Miss Ware's face 
 and went on hurriedly : 
 
 " I sympathize with you in your grief. I was on 
 the River Queen when she was captured, but I was 
 more fortunate than poor Francis Ware. I not only 
 escaped, but I am the instrument of bringing to book 
 the man who was responsible for the disaster." 
 
 " Who was responsible for it ? " 
 
 " Do you not know who commanded the expedi 
 tion ? " he asked, eyeing her closely. 
 
 "Captain Clayborne commanded it, but I do 
 not see how that makes him responsible for the 
 disaster," she replied with spirit, although there 
 was a tremble in her voice.
 
 BEFORE THE COURT 253 
 
 " Do you know that Clayborne is to be tried by 
 court-martial ? " 
 
 " No ! I had not .heard it," she replied, making 
 no attempt to conceal the shock the news gave her. 
 
 " The trial is to be held to-morrow. I have 
 come to see you about the case." 
 
 " What have I to do with it ? " she asked in a 
 tone of surprise. 
 
 " You have known Mr. Clayborne for some time, 
 have you not ? " 
 
 Well ? " 
 
 " Have you ever corresponded with him ? " 
 
 " I still do not see your reason for asking these 
 questions," she replied. 
 
 " Miss Ware, I want you to tell me frankly, if 
 this Clayborne was responsible for the loss of the 
 River Queen, was responsible for the loss of your 
 brilliant brother, was guilty of treason to the 
 United States government, would you wish to see 
 him shielded ? Would you not wish to have him 
 punished ? " 
 
 " Shield him ? No ! " she cried. " I would not 
 shield my own brother if he were an enemy to my 
 country! " 
 
 "Now, Miss Ware, while you have been in 
 Washington has Mr. Clayborne ever in any way 
 encouraged you to write letters to him on political 
 matters ? " 
 
 The color flew to her cheeks as she exclaimed 
 hotly, " Lieutenant Brainard, do you dare 
 imply "
 
 254 THE CLAYBORNES 
 
 " My dear Miss Ware, I insinuate nothing. I 
 do not think for a moment that you would will 
 ingly lend yourself to any such practice, but I do 
 know how much a clever and unscrupulous person 
 can take advantage of a trustful and unsuspecting 
 one. I do know that you are in a position at 
 times to overhear things which might be of great 
 interest and value to our enemies. It would have 
 been so natural to put them on paper when writing 
 an innocent letter to a friend. Now if you have 
 any letters from Captain Clayborne which solicited 
 such communications from you, they might have a 
 bearing upon the present case." 
 
 Marjorie Ware listened thoughtfully until he 
 had finished, then she replied calmly : " If Captain 
 Clayborne were guilty of disloyalty and treason, 
 if he had treacherously endeavored to make use of 
 my friendship in order to obtain information and 
 betray it to the enemy, I would use every effort to 
 see him punished as he deserved." 
 
 "I knew you would feel like this," said Brainard. 
 
 "Yes, you might have known that I would feel 
 like this, Mr. Brainard ; and you will be glad to 
 hear that there was not a line in any of Mr. Clay- 
 borne's letters which could lay him open to such a 
 suspicion." 
 
 Brainard's face fell with disappointment. 
 " Thank you, Miss Ware, for speaking so freely ; 
 we have a chain of evidence that the man is a 
 traitor. I was in hopes that you would be able to 
 help strengthen it."
 
 BEFORE THE COURT 255 
 
 " I do not believe that Mr. Clayborne is a 
 traitor," the girl flashed out. " He may, through 
 rashness and over-daring, be responsible for the 
 loss of the River Queen, but that does not permit 
 you to call him a traitor until he is proven so." 
 
 " I stand corrected, Miss Ware, until to-mor 
 row," replied Brainard quietly. 
 
 " I bid you good-day, sir," said Marjorie haugh 
 tily, sweeping from the room. 
 
 During this dialogue General Ware had re 
 mained seated, a passive spectator, with his clear 
 eyes fixed intently on both of the speakers. 
 
 When his daughter had gone he addressed a 
 few questions to Brainard. The latter answered 
 him freely and a few minutes' earnest conversation 
 ensued. 
 
 " The court-martial is set down for to-morrow? " 
 inquired the general, as the lieutenant arose to 
 go. 
 
 " Yes, sir, at ten o'clock." 
 
 After Lieutenant Brainard's departure General 
 Ware sought his daughter, and taking her face 
 between his hands looked down in her eyes. 
 
 " How many letters have been exchanged be 
 tween you and this Captain Clay borne ? " he asked 
 abruptly. 
 
 " A dozen or perhaps more ; possibly twenty," 
 was her reply, while she answered his gaze unflinch 
 ingly. 
 
 " You did not show any of them to me," he 
 continued reproachfully.
 
 256 THE CLAYBORNES 
 
 " You knew I wrote to him," she replied eva 
 sively. 
 
 " I knew one or two letters had passed between 
 you. I did not think there was anything more 
 than that," he said with a sigh. 
 
 " There was no concealment on my part," Mar- 
 jorie said quietly. 
 
 Her father passed his hand caressingly over the 
 soft brown hair. " Were they love letters ? " he 
 inquired gently. 
 
 The color came to her cheeks. " No," she re 
 plied hesitatingly " merely letters of friendship." 
 
 "Letters of friendship," he repeated, turning 
 abruptly away. 
 
 " Captain Clayborne has never mentioned love 
 to me, and I am sure I never have to him," Mar- 
 jorie said demurely. 
 
 " The man is a villain ! " cried her father with 
 more heat than he had ever shown in his life. 
 " He has made love to my daughter surreptitiously ! 
 He has betrayed his trust, and is responsible for 
 the death of my son ! But he has reached the end 
 of his rope at last and he shall suffer for it ! " 
 
 The blood left the young woman's face and flew 
 to her heart. " Why do you call him a villain 
 before he has been found guilty before you have 
 even heard the testimony against him ! " she cried 
 passionately. 
 
 " Because he has acted the part of one, and I be 
 lieve him guilty of the charge brought against him ! " 
 exclaimed General Ware with equal warmth ; " and
 
 BEFORE THE COURT 257 
 
 whatever the result of the trial, you must never 
 hold any communication with that man again." 
 
 " Is that your command ? " asked Marjorie. 
 
 "It is my earnest wish," said the father. 
 
 " I do not believe that he has been guilty of 
 anything dishonorable," said the daughter proudly, 
 " and until I do I cannot be bound by your wishes." 
 
 " I will hear the testimony at the court-martial," 
 said General Ware with more composure. " You 
 shall hear the result from my lips. Now I must 
 go to the department." 
 
 Marjorie Ware went to her own room, and seat 
 ing herself at the table wrote a few impulsive lines 
 with nervous hand. 
 
 Gordon Clayborne received her note before the 
 court convened, and with this missive placed in his 
 breast pocket he was able to look upon his accuser 
 with some degree of composure. 
 
 The indictment was brief and explicit. He was 
 charged : 
 
 1. With permitting prisoners to escape. 
 
 2. With furnishing information to the enemy. 
 
 3. With treason. 
 
 The man who had instigated the charges was 
 William Brainard. He was actuated by no malice. 
 With regret he had come to the belief that Gordon 
 Clayborne was a traitor, and as such he wished to 
 see him punished. He wished to see him made an 
 example of. He wanted him put where he could 
 do no further injury. Brainard was the principal 
 witness against the accused, although his testimony
 
 258 THE CLAYBORNES 
 
 was corroborated in many details by several of the 
 soldiers who were on board the River Queen. 
 
 With a superb disregard of his legal rights, 
 Gordon Clayborne had refused counsel, and he now 
 rose to speak in his own defense. He addressed 
 the board in a respectful manner, yet there was a 
 scornful curl to his lip as he referred to the accusa 
 tion against him ; there was a flash of indignation 
 in his dark eyes as he looked into the face of 
 his accuser. He spoke throughout with calm self- 
 restraint, yet the clear, musical cadence of his 
 voice filled the court-room, each word being dis 
 tinctly audible to all present. 
 
 " I am accused of treason," he began slowly, 
 " the gravest charge upon which a soldier can be 
 tried. I may perhaps be more open to such a sus 
 picion because of my birth. I am a Virginian." 
 There was a proud ring in his voice as he said 
 these words, and a proud though unconscious lift 
 ing of the chin. " When the war began I held a 
 commission in the United States army. I deemed 
 it my duty to retain that commission. What it 
 cost me to come to that decision is not of moment 
 here. I did make it and I have served the flag; to 
 
 o 
 
 the best of my ability. 
 
 " It is true that I allowed one of the prisoners 
 to escape." Subdued murmurs of excitement ran 
 through the court-room. The avowal had been 
 sudden and unexpected. Gordon looked about 
 him with some surprise. " That part of the accu 
 sation is perfectly true; but, gentlemen, it was
 
 BEFORE THE COURT 259 
 
 with no treasonable designs. She was a woman," 
 he continued gently ; " a woman who had claims 
 upon my friendship. I was bound in honor to re 
 lease her." There was a chivalrous light in his 
 eyes as he spoke, and he looked full at General 
 Ware. " I was bound in honor to release her," he 
 went on simply, " but I do not evade responsibility 
 on that account. Whatever the consequences, I 
 should have done it just the same. For what I 
 have done I am willing to be judged and punished. 
 But I am also accused of betraying a transport of 
 troops and supplies, of setting fire to a steamer, 
 and running it into the hands of the enemy. This 
 is false ! " For the only time he raised his voice 
 till it rang sharply through the room. Then, 
 speaking in a lower tone, slowly and deliberately 
 he went on : " That the River Queen was set on 
 fire from within is possible. I have my own sus 
 picions." Instinctively he looked in the direction 
 of General Ware. The old soldier's face was stern ; 
 no sign of sympathy or belief shone in those cold, 
 gray eyes. Yet Gordon hardly noticed him ; he 
 seemed to see the softer blue eyes of a young 
 woman, to hear her utter the words of trust she 
 had written him. The chivalry of his nature dom 
 inated him. He hesitated for a moment, then 
 turning towards the board. " But, gentlemen, sus 
 picions have no standing in a court of law. There 
 has been no evidence here to prove that any one 
 destroyed the River Queen. There has been no 
 evidence to prove that I was in the service of the
 
 260 THE CLAYBORNES 
 
 Confederates. I demand an acquittal upon these 
 two charges ! " and with a gesture of the hand as if 
 he swept the accusations from him, he resumed his 
 seat. A hum of subdued but earnest conversation 
 again agitated the court-room. Clayborne looked 
 about him with that outward calmness which pride 
 and spirit engender, while the board slowly rose, 
 and with dignity retired to consider its verdict. 
 
 Gordon Clayborne was right. There had been 
 little evidence to prove him guilty of treason. But 
 although he might be acquitted of the last two 
 and most serious charges, would not the board be 
 obliged to find him guilty upon his own admission 
 of having allowed a prisoner to escape ? 
 
 Doubts even as to his innocence on the last two 
 counts were entertained by some of the members 
 of the board, and this uncertainty in their minds 
 caused the debate to be long and earnest. 
 
 Gordon had been sent under guard to his hotel, 
 to await the result of the verdict. If he were found 
 guilty, the sentence would be severe. Proud by 
 nature, he shrank from going into the street and 
 through the hotel lobby. Yet as he did so, none 
 of those who elbowed him in the crowd held their 
 heads higher, or walked the thoroughfare with a 
 greater appearance of indifference. For two hours 
 Clayborne remained thus ; in deep and bitter re 
 flection, dwelling upon the mistakes, the injustices, 
 and the misfortunes of his career, until he finally 
 reached that recklessness of mood which is partic 
 ularly dangerous for men of his temperament.
 
 BEFORE THE COURT 261 
 
 The guard entered the room. " A gentleman 
 has permission to see you, sir." 
 
 " I wish to see nobody," replied Clayborne 
 peremptorily. 
 
 The man said nothing, but dropped a card upon 
 the table and retired. 
 
 A few moments later Gordon picked up the bit 
 of pasteboard, read it, thrust it into his pocket ; 
 then rising suddenly from his chair, he went to 
 wards the bell-rope. Before he had an opportunity 
 to ring, the door swung open, and Benjamin Ches 
 terfield walked breezily into the room. 
 
 " I received your message, so I came up," he 
 laughed, holding out his hand. 
 
 A faint flush came to Gordon's face. " I know 
 it was absurd of me, and I was just going to send 
 for you after reading the name on the card," he 
 answered, taking the proffered hand. " I suppose 
 I must get used to seeing people, but it comes hard 
 at present." 
 
 " Well, this comes of being taken in by a wo 
 man," said Chesterfield with great cheerfulness, 
 taking a seat on the end of the bed. 
 
 Clayborne made no answer. 
 
 " You had a fine career, and now it is ruined, 
 and for what ? for a woman who used you just as 
 she would use an umbrella, to get in out of the 
 rain." 
 
 Gordon scowled grimly. " I was bound in honor, 
 Chesterfield, to act as I did, and by Heaven I would 
 do it again, though I ruined a dozen careers. I
 
 262 THE CLAYBORNES 
 
 did not think that you were the kind of man to 
 strike another when he is down," he added re 
 proachfully. Chesterfield shot him a quick glance 
 from under his heavy eyebrows. 
 
 " Neither am I, Clayborne. That was only my 
 way of showing my sympathy." 
 
 " I wish you would show it in some other way, 
 then," retorted Gordon. 
 
 Chesterfield rang the bell. " Bring up two 
 mint juleps," he ordered the attendant, and the 
 darky disappeared quickly to do his bidding. 
 
 Chesterfield threw a long leg over the footboard. 
 The day was warm. Clayborne took off his coat 
 and waistcoat, and, sitting astride a chair, faced 
 him. Neither spoke for a few moments. Chester 
 field swung one large foot lazily, while Gordon 
 drummed with his fingers on the chair-back. 
 
 The darky arrived with the iced drink clinking 
 in the glasses. Chesterfield drew up the table, and 
 both men took a deep draught. 
 
 " Clayborne," began the newspaper correspond 
 ent when they were alone once more, "there is 
 something I very much want to know." A mo 
 ment's silence followed. Chesterfield resumed his 
 easy position upon the bed. " I hesitate to pry 
 into any man's affairs, but there is one question 
 I want to ask you." 
 
 " You have my permission to ask it," replied 
 Clayborne courteously. 
 
 " I have not known you for such a very long pe 
 riod, but my friendship for you is sincere. I desire
 
 BEFORE THE COURT 263 
 
 your confidence for your own sake. You may of 
 course withhold it if you see fit," Chesterfield went 
 on with an engaging frankness of manner. 
 i Clayborne looked at him inquiringly. 
 
 " Dash it all, man, I '11 come to the point at 
 once ! " cried the newspaper correspondent, rising 
 to his feet. " Are you in love with Flora Dowd 
 Regina Bowie, or whatever her name is ? Are 
 you infatuated with her ? " 
 
 Gordon looked at his friend for a few moments 
 in silence. 
 
 " No," he answered quietly. " I am not." 
 
 " Are you quite sure ? " exclaimed Chesterfield, 
 taking the other man by the arm. 
 
 " I am sure," was the reply. 
 
 " Thank Heaven," was the pious ejaculation of 
 the bearded newspaper man, and he drew a docu 
 ment from his pocket. " Clayborne," he said 
 slowly, " I have here an order for the dismissal of 
 the charge against you, and for your reinstatement 
 in the army with your old rank, but I did not feel 
 that I could give it to you until I was positive that 
 you were in no way infatuated with the woman 
 whom you allowed to escape." 
 
 Clayborne felt his heart leap as the paper touched 
 his hand. 
 
 " Chesterfield, I always knew you for a true- 
 hearted gentleman, but I could not expect such a 
 service even from you. How did you obtain it ? " 
 was all he said.
 
 CHAPTER XIX 
 
 LOVE AND DOUBT 
 
 BENJAMIN CHESTERFIELD was a man who would 
 have moved the earth for a friend. He was the 
 kind of man who would travel to the end of the 
 world on a service of friendship, and never give 
 the matter of his own comfort or convenience a 
 thought. 
 
 So he had hastened to Washington on behalf of 
 Clayborne. After some delay he had succeeded hi 
 gaining the ear of the President, had presented a 
 letter from General Grant, and had supplemented 
 this so eloquently with his own arguments as 
 finally to obtain from the generous chief magistrate 
 a pardon to be availed of at the discretion of the 
 correspondent himself. " For," reasoned Chester 
 field, "if Clayborne is still infatuated with that 
 woman it would be useless to trust him, and I 
 shall regretfully let him go to perdition." 
 
 But Chesterfield found his friend sound in mind ; 
 he saw that he was still worthy of trust ; and Gor 
 don Clayborne was able to walk out of the hotel a 
 new man. 
 
 The world is very young and fair at twenty-five, 
 and Gordon Clayborne's spirits were light as air
 
 LOVE AND DOUBT 265 
 
 as he walked up Pennsylvania Avenue. The day 
 was hot and stifling, hospital ambulances heavy 
 with the suffering wounded rattled through the 
 streets. Care-worn faces passed him at every 
 turn, the anxious statesman, the crippled sol 
 dier, the bereaved widow, all carrying their share 
 of the burden of the times. Yet vigorous youth 
 noted none of these. He saw a blue-eyed child 
 smiling in the sunlight. He saw a pretty girl on 
 the doorstep of a shop, and smiled at her, too, as he 
 passed jauntily by. She returned the greeting, 
 for it must have been a straight-laced one indeed 
 who would not unbend a little from her maidenly 
 reserve at a debonair glance from Gordon Claj- 
 borne's eye. He heard the merry laugh of some 
 children at their play, and the more boisterous 
 notes of soldiers drinking at a bar. He heard and 
 saw the lighter side of life ; the dark and serious 
 touched him not, for the blood of youth was warm 
 within him. Clayborne was going back to the 
 field, but before he went he had one mission of 
 high importance to fulfil. It was doubtless the 
 thought of this which gave an added elasticity to 
 his step and a brilliancy to his eye as he walked 
 briskly up H street and stopped before a neat- 
 looking brick house. 
 
 Marjorie Ware was preparing to go to the hos 
 pital. She had just donned the plain and trim 
 attire of a nurse and stood before the glass to put 
 on her bonnet, when Gordon Clayborne's name 
 was brought up to her. Her hands trembled as
 
 266 THE CLAYBORNES 
 
 they tied the strings of her bonnet under her chin. 
 For a few moments she stood debating what course 
 of action she should follow. Her father had told 
 her all that had taken place at the court-martial. 
 He had repeated to her, in his quiet, passionless 
 manner, the charge, the testimony, the confession. 
 She had heard him with bewilderment and awe. 
 His deliberate statements carried conviction with 
 them. She knew her father must speak the truth, 
 and although in her heart she tried to doubt him, 
 she could not. And if her father's words were 
 true, how could Gordon Clayborne be worthy of 
 any consideration? She resolved that she must 
 never communicate with him again. She regretted 
 the impulsive letter which she had sent him. She 
 tried to banish him from her mind twenty times 
 that day, and thought she would never see him 
 again, and now he was in the house waiting to see 
 her. The announcement came to her with a shock. 
 Her first impulse was to refuse to see him. Mean 
 while Gordon, in the little sitting-room below, 
 awaited the appearance of the lady, his ear alert 
 for her step upon the stairs, and at every sound 
 that reached him his eyes were raised expectantly 
 towards the door. The possibility that she would 
 not come did not occur to him. 
 
 Marjorie came swiftly downstairs. She was due 
 at the hospital in a few minutes, and the thought 
 came to her that she could pass out of the front 
 door and hurry down the street to her work, thus 
 avoiding Clayborne ; but when she reached the issue
 
 LOVE AND DOUBT 267 
 
 she was unable to resist the strong impulse which 
 seemed to force her to turn and enter the sitting- 
 room. She stood for a moment on the threshold, 
 surveying him with an expression of great sadness 
 in her eyes. Gordon came swiftly across the room 
 and took her by the hand, saying, " Miss Ware, I 
 thank you most deeply for the letter you sent me. 
 It reached me at a time when life seemed darkest." 
 
 She gave his face a searching look of inquiry, 
 at the same time trying to withdraw her hand. 
 He led her to a chair, and sat down near her. 
 
 " I do not understand you," she said coldly. 
 
 " Why, little comrade, you stood by me nobly 
 when everything seemed to be going against me. 
 Do you know," he continued radiantly, " for a 
 time, before I heard from you, I feared that you 
 thought me guilty of the charge of treason." 
 
 " Are you quite innocent ? " Marjorie burst out 
 suddenly. 
 
 His eyes flashed at her in surprise. "If you 
 doubted me why did you write me that letter ? " 
 he inquired sternly. 
 
 " Because I did believe in you then," she said 
 sadly. 
 
 " Little comrade, you must believe in me 
 always." 
 
 " You must not call me by that name," she said 
 with quiet firmness. 
 
 " It was understood that as long as the war 
 lasted you were to be my little comrade," he con 
 tinued gently, " and that after the war "
 
 268 THE CLAYBORNES 
 
 She interrupted him suddenly. " Tell me first 
 that the accusation against you was untrue. Tell 
 me that you had some strong reason for not deny 
 ing an unjust charge. Tell me this with your own 
 lips and I will believe you." 
 
 " On my honor I am guiltless of all conspiracy 
 against the government," he said earnestly. 
 
 " Of all conspiracy against the government." 
 She repeated the words as if to get their full 
 meaning. 
 
 " Yes," he replied, " I want you to believe that. 
 I want you to trust me. During all this past year 
 your letters and the thought of you have been my 
 inspiration, my star. I would rather lose the trust 
 of the whole world than yours." 
 
 " When you speak like that it is hard to doubt 
 you, but I must understand you absolutely. Is it 
 true that you allowed that woman, that Flora 
 Dowd, to escape ? If you tell me that you did not 
 allow her to go free, but for some reason, known 
 only to yourself, you did not deny a false accu 
 sation, I shall believe you." She spoke almost 
 imploringly. 
 
 He hesitated for a moment, then said quietly, 
 " I alone am responsible for her escape." 
 
 " You allowed a prisoner to escape ! " she ex 
 claimed, " and yet you ask me to believe in you ? " 
 
 " I let a woman go free," he assented. 
 
 " You liberated a spy a person who had been 
 working injury to the Union, a scheming, intrigu 
 ing spy and yet you ask me to trust you."
 
 LOVE AND DOUBT 269 
 
 "You must remember she was a woman," he 
 repeated. " I alone stood between her and her 
 freedom. I could not hold her a prisoner." 
 
 "Mr. Clayborne," said Marjorie, "I had a 
 brother on the River Queen. He lost his life 
 while at his post." 
 
 Gordon winced, but looked into her face ear 
 nestly, attempting to offer no explanation. 
 
 The tears were in Marjprie's eyes. " Although 
 I weep for him," she said mournfully, " the know 
 ledge that he died bravely, in the defense of the 
 flag, is a great balm to my grief." 
 
 " Miss Ware," said Gordon quietly, " because I 
 came safely through the River Queen disaster you 
 should not impugn my courage. Death does not 
 always come to those who seek it." 
 
 " I have never doubted your courage, Captain 
 Clayborne, never, but," 
 
 " But you doubt me you have said so." 
 
 " On your own admission you stand convicted 
 of one breach of trust," she exclaimed with a catch 
 in her voice. " How am I to be sure you are not 
 guilty of another ? " 
 
 " You do not believe that I betrayed the River 
 Queen ? " he cried vehemently ; " you do not hold 
 me responsible for your brother's" he hesitated, 
 then ended quietly, " death ? " 
 
 " No no," she protested. " I accuse you of 
 nothing. I only say I am in doubt, in terrible 
 doubt "- 
 
 " You shall doubt me no longer! " he cried pas-
 
 270 THE CLAYBORNES 
 
 sionately. " You have written me that you believe 
 in me, and I shall hold you to that. I swear to 
 you that I did my best to bring the River Queen 
 past the batteries. Fate was against me, and I 
 failed. I swear to you that I tried in vain to save 
 your brother " 
 
 " To save my brother how? " she cried. 
 
 Gordon looked searchingly into her eyes. He 
 recalled the words she had spoken but the moment 
 before about her brother, and shook his head sadly. 
 "It was in vain. Fate was against me. Miss 
 Ware," Gordon continued, " I am going away 
 I have been reinstated, and am going back to the 
 army. If I live I shall certainly find you again, 
 but the uncertainties of war are such that it is 
 not bombast on my part to say that we may never 
 meet again. Before I go I want to feel that I 
 stand in your esteem where I stood before. I want 
 you to agree to write me just as you have done in 
 the past." 
 
 " You are asking too much," Marjorie replied. 
 " I cannot." 
 
 " Why can't you ? " 
 
 " Because in the past I had such confidence in 
 you. I believed in you so completely. I felt such 
 a sincere friendship for you, that I wrote you with 
 great unreserve. I can never do so again." 
 
 " Won't you please try ? " he pleaded. 
 
 " It would be useless, Captain Clayborne. The 
 element of doubt would always exist in my mind ; 
 it would stand a barrier between us."
 
 LOVE AND DOUBT 271 
 
 " Put aside that doubt," he said fervently. " I 
 would rather have you believe in me I would 
 rather have your trust than that of the whole 
 world beside." 
 
 " I would give much to be able to drive the 
 doubt away," she replied truthfully, " but there 
 is so much I cannot understand about you." 
 
 She turned towards him with an expression of 
 great earnestness on her sweet face. Although 
 dressed in the plain garb of a nurse, she looked 
 prettier than ever in Gordon's eyes, with the color 
 of excitement in her cheeks, and her soft golden- 
 brown hair tucked back under her bonnet, whose 
 strings had been hastily tied into rather a coquet 
 tish bow under her white chin. 
 
 " Marjorie," cried Gordon impetuously, " for 
 months I have cherished your regard as the dear 
 est object of my heart." Again he took her hand. 
 She tried to withdraw it, but he held it firmly, say 
 ing, " I knew I should tell you some day. I 
 thought it would be after the war, but I must tell 
 you now I love you " 
 
 " I beg of you, do not tell me that now," she 
 pleaded, struggling in vain to take away the hand. 
 
 " I have long known that I loved you," he went 
 on passionately ; " when I received your letter 
 I knew that I adored you." 
 
 Marjorie tore her hand free, and rising to her 
 feet stood before him. 
 
 " Why do you tell me this ? " she cried vehe 
 mently.
 
 272 THE CLAYBORNES 
 
 " Because it is the truth, Marjorie," he said. 
 "You must have known it in your secret heart 
 for a long time." 
 
 " I do not know it," she exclaimed with agita 
 tion. 
 
 " Yes, you do, Marjorie. You are too truthful 
 to stoop to such prevarication. You cannot look 
 at me and say you did not know I loved you. You 
 cannot look straight at me with those frank, clear 
 eyes of yours and say you do not care for me." 
 
 Marjorie hesitated, then burst forth impetu 
 ously : " No, I do not understand you. At one 
 time I did think you cared for me, and I held 
 you in very high regard. I will not deny it even 
 now, for it was true." 
 
 " I have not lost that regard yet, Miss Ware, 
 and I intend to keep it," said Gordon gently. 
 
 " Where confidence is shaken regard cannot re 
 main, Captain Clayborne," said Marjorie seriously. 
 
 " You say you do not understand me, Marjorie. 
 Cannot you understand me when I say I love 
 you ? " He uttered the words quietly, but there 
 was a convincing earnestness in his manner that 
 could not fail to have its effect upon the young 
 girl. 
 
 She looked into his eyes, saying in her straight 
 forward way, " I do not understand you, because 
 you have been accused of permitting this Flora 
 Dowd to escape, and you admit that it is true." 
 
 " It is true, Marjorie, but I love you. That is 
 not difficult to understand."
 
 LOVE AND DOUBT 273 
 
 She hesitated for an instant, then spoke rapidly : 
 " They testified that you made love to her. They 
 implied that there was that there was an affec 
 tionate understanding between you. Is that true ? " 
 
 *It is not true." 
 
 " Will you tell me that you have never made 
 love to her?" she asked with almost a note of 
 entreaty in her voice. " Tell me this, on your 
 honor, Mr. Clayborne, and I will believe you." 
 
 " Why do you ask me this ? " he cried passion 
 ately. "It is you I love, and you only." 
 
 She stood by the table one hand nervously 
 opening and closing a book that lay there. Her 
 face was pale. She looked at him as she tried to 
 read his inmost thoughts. 
 
 " It is just that which I cannot understand," 
 she replied. " If you have never made love to her 
 you would not hesitate. It would be so easy to 
 answer me." 
 
 " I will repeat that I love you, Marjorie, and 
 you only," he cried ardently, seizing the fingers 
 that were tremblingly fluttering the pages of the 
 book, and pressing them to his lips. 
 
 " You made love to her, and now you make love 
 to me," she exclaimed scornfully. She did not try 
 to free her hand from his, but stood passionless. 
 
 " My dear little girl," he whispered tenderly, 
 " do you not know it was before I ever saw you ? 
 Will you not believe that I love you devotedly, 
 that I adore you with all my soul ? My love for 
 you is my religion it can never change. Can-
 
 274 THE CLAYBORNES 
 
 not you feel that I speak the truth ? Can 't you 
 believe me ? " 
 
 " I believe in nothing," she exclaimed bitterly. 
 
 " You shall believe in me," Gordon said ear 
 nestly. 
 
 The door opened, and General Ware entered 
 the room. His keen gray eyes looked from his 
 daughter to Gordon searchingly, but his immobile 
 face gave no sign of emotion or surprise. With 
 out noticing Marjorie's agitation, he bowed stiffly 
 to Gordon, saying, "Allow me to congratulate you, 
 Captain Clayborne, upon your prompt reinstate 
 ment in the army. When do you start for the 
 West?" 
 
 Gordon recovered himself immediately, and re 
 plied with easy grace, " Thank you, General Ware. 
 I have been transferred to the Army of the Poto 
 mac. I expect to start to-morrow morning. " 
 
 The general bowed once more. " In case I do 
 not see you again let me wish you good-by," he 
 said, giving Clayborne a cold, expressionless hand. 
 
 " Again I thank you, General Ware," replied 
 Gordon cordially. Then turning toward Marjorie 
 he said, " I shall not say good-by to you, Miss 
 Ware', because I shall hope to see you again before 
 I go." 
 
 Marjorie did not answer. 
 
 The general did not speak. 
 
 " I shall go early to-morrow morning, but I shall 
 call to see you this evening," Gordon said in a low 
 voice. " Do not refuse to see me."
 
 LOVE AND DOUBT 275 
 
 There was nothing for him to do but to take his 
 leave, which he did politely. Outside the front 
 door he found, to his surprise, that he was carry 
 ing the little volume which Marjorie had been 
 holding. He stood for a moment looking down 
 the street, which lay quiet under the hot noonday 
 sun ; then he put the book into his pocket and 
 walked slowly away. 
 
 In the little sitting-room General Ware went 
 up to his daughter, and with a tenderness no one 
 would have believed was in him kissed her on the 
 forehead. 
 
 That evening Clayborne dined with Chesterfield 
 at the hotel. He was apparently in high spirits, 
 talking and laughing continually ; but he never for 
 a moment lost count of the minutes, and no sooner 
 did the hands of the clock point to half past seven 
 than he bade his friend good-night, jumped into a 
 carriage, and was driven rapidly to H Street. 
 
 , The house was dark, and when the door opened 
 Gordon saw with some misgiving that the light in 
 the hallway was turned low and a lamp burned 
 dimly in the sitting-room where he had stood a 
 few hours before. Gordon did not remain long in 
 doubt. The colored servant who answered his ring 
 told him that Miss Ware had gone away in a car 
 riage with her father before dinner, and he did not 
 know when they would return. 
 
 Gordon looked at the man closely and saw he 
 was telling only half the truth. He understood 
 the race perfectly. In two minutes he learned all
 
 276 THE CLAYBORNES 
 
 the darky had to tell. It was meagre enough. 
 He had overheard General Ware tell Miss Eliza 
 beth that they would be back about ten. 
 
 " Who was Miss Elizabeth ? " 
 
 " General Ware's sister." 
 
 " Was Miss Elizabeth at home ? " 
 
 Miss Elizabeth was at home ; she appeared at 
 this moment upon the scene. Gordon gave her 
 one quick glance and saw that any hope in that 
 direction was out of the question. 
 
 The general himself might have stood before 
 him, the same keen gray eye, the same stern 
 face with tightly compressed lips. Tall, angular, 
 uncompromising, Miss Elizabeth took Gordon in 
 at a glance, then without addressing him spoke to 
 the negro. " David, if the gentleman has been 
 answered, close the door. The night air affects 
 my throat." 
 
 " In what direction did their carriage go ? " 
 Gordon asked in a low voice, slipping a coin into 
 David's hand. 
 
 " Eh, what ? " ejaculated Miss Elizabeth, prick 
 ing up her ears. " David, shut the door at once. 
 We can have no inquisitives prying here." 
 
 The darky rolled his eyes and pointed north. 
 The door closed and left Gordon on the step. 
 
 " Sour old maid ! " he muttered to himself, 
 going slowly down the steps. 
 
 "As nice appearing young man as ever was. 
 What a pity things can't be as they ought to be," 
 murmured Miss Elizabeth on her side of the door,
 
 LOVE AND DOUBT 277 
 
 as she retired to her bedroom to await her brother's 
 return. She was devoted to him and his interests, 
 and she sat for some minutes thinking over the 
 recent episode. 
 
 " Where shall I drive you to, sir ? " asked the 
 cabman as Gordon stood meditating on the curb. 
 
 " Down the street slowly," was the reply, as he 
 got into the vehicle. 
 
 Here he busied himself in thought. In the cor 
 respondence which had passed between Mai-jorie 
 and him, she had told him many details of her 
 daily life. He had heard of her dining at the 
 homes of a number of friends. He tried to recall 
 some of their names to his mind. To his intense 
 chagrin he could think of only one. It was one 
 which had been repeated several times. There 
 was a slight chance that the Wares were to-night 
 dining with this friend. Clayborne was a man to 
 let no chance slip by him. He went to a hotel, 
 hurriedly consulted a directory, and then was 
 driven rapidly to Street. 
 
 Clayborne was right in his guess. The Wares 
 had dined at the house of Mrs. Worthington. As 
 the front door opened, Gordon heard the mea 
 sured tones of the general's voice coming from 
 the drawing-room. Through a half-opened door 
 Gordon caught the glint of an evening dress, as 
 a woman passed across the room. He thought it 
 was Marjorie. 
 
 To him the most important thing in the world 
 at that crisis in his affair was to see her alone.
 
 278 THE CLAYBORNES 
 
 He was unacquainted with Mrs. Worthington ; the 
 general was antagonistic ; he was uncertain as to 
 Marjorie's own state of mind towards him. It 
 was that very uncertainty which lent a desperation 
 to the situation, and he was resolved to obtain a 
 private interview with the young lady if it could 
 be accomplished by strategy. To have his name 
 announced would perhaps have been more intrepid, 
 but it would certainly have defeated the object of 
 his desire. He could think of but one course to pur 
 sue ; it was to excite the interest and sympathy of 
 the lady of the house, and throw himself upon her 
 mercy. He felt in his pocket and drew out a card 
 which bore Chesterfield's name, and giving it to 
 the colored servant, requested him to take it to his 
 mistress, stepped into the reception room upon the 
 other side of the hall, and coolly waited the result. 
 This was not only carrying the war into the ene 
 my's country, it was attempting to corrupt the 
 allies of the opponent ; but if ever the end justifies 
 the means it is in affairs of love. Mrs. Worth 
 ington came into the room with a look of inquiry 
 upon her face. This look deepened to one of sur 
 prise as the unknown gentleman closed the door 
 and told her who he was and what he wanted. 
 
 As soon as he caught sight of Mrs. Worthing- 
 ton's wholesome, kindly face, Gordon felt his self- 
 assurance return ; but it was no easy task to which 
 he had set himself, however. For fifteen minutes 
 he pleaded earnestly. Mrs. Worthington was loyal 
 to her friend, the general ; but there are two ways
 
 LOVE AND DOUBT 279 
 
 of looking at all matters of this kind, and it may 
 be taken for granted that Gordon's case did not 
 suffer in his presentation of it. The man who 
 cannot plead eloquently under such circumstances 
 must expect to lose. 
 
 But if Gordon Clayborne was a man of resource 
 and persistence, the general was an old campaigner. 
 He thought that in taking his daughter out to dine 
 he could avoid a visit from Clayborne, which to 
 the general, at least, would not be welcome ; but 
 like the wary general he was, wishing to keep him 
 self informed as to the movements of his enemy, 
 he had left instructions with his sister that if 
 Clayborne came to the house and showed an incli 
 nation to return or any inquisitiveness as to their 
 whereabouts, he, General Ware, was to be informed. 
 Perhaps all these precautions were unnecessary, 
 for Marjorie herself had resolved not to see Gordon 
 a second time ; but then again the experienced 
 know that the strongest resolutions are sometimes 
 overcome by persistence. The general had resolved 
 to take no risks. 
 
 In this case the old soldier proved himself an 
 able tactician, and his sister showed herself a 
 worthy lieutenant. After sitting quietly in thought 
 for some minutes, she came to the conclusion that 
 if her brother were informed of the fact that the 
 wolf had appeared, her own mind would be easier ; 
 so she put on her shawl, tied her bonnet strings 
 firmly under her chin, took an alpaca umbrella in 
 her hand as an effective weapon of defense against
 
 280 THE CLAYBORNES 
 
 night prowlers, and set out to put the general on 
 his guard. 
 
 Imagine the good woman's apprehension when, 
 upon approaching Mrs. Worthington's house, she 
 saw the cause of her present nocturnal adventure 
 standing calmly before the door, waiting for it to 
 be opened, as naturally ^,s if he were expected. A 
 few minutes later Miss Elizabeth was also inside 
 the house, and in earnest conversation with her 
 brother. 
 
 How slight a word can throw a man from the 
 height of expectancy to the depths of dejection ! 
 Clayborne had won Mrs. Worthington over to his 
 side. He had shown her how entirely dependent 
 upon her generous assistance were his life's hap 
 piness, and without doubt the happiness of one 
 whose welfare was of still greater concern to him. 
 Together they had agreed how a private interview 
 between Marjorie and himself could be arranged. 
 The kind-hearted woman had left him alone for a 
 few moments, during which he collected himself 
 for the meeting, and marshaled all his arguments, 
 while his pulse beat high. 
 
 Mrs. Worthington returned with the grave an 
 nouncement that the general had suddenly been 
 summoned home, and that at this moment he and 
 his daughter were waiting in the hall to bid their 
 hostess good-night. It was a stunning blow for 
 Gordon. Although his heart was like lead, he did 
 not forget to thank the lady who had befriended 
 him. Then, to her surprise, he accompanied her
 
 LOVE AND DOUBT 281 
 
 into the hallway. Going straight up to the general, 
 he said cordially, " Good-by, General Ware, I trust 
 we shall meet again under more favorable circum 
 stances. Mrs. Worthington, I am your most grate 
 ful and obedient servant." Then turning toward 
 Miss Ware, he said in a low voice, into which 
 there crept a tender accent he did not attempt to 
 disguise, " Good-by, Marjorie. You see I have 
 found you, after all if for nothing else to return 
 this volume of Emerson, which I inadvertently 
 took from your hands this morning." 
 
 The general, in his annoyance, had overlooked 
 the captain's proffered hand. 
 
 Marjorie, who had not been aware of Clayborne's 
 presence in the house, uttered a cry of surprise 
 at the sight of him. She took the book, and as 
 he bent over her hand with a courtly manner she 
 said quietly, " Good-by, Mr. Clayborne. I wish 
 you the best of fortune in life. Believe me, I do." 
 
 " Such a wish is bitter irony to me now," he 
 replied for her ear alone. She made no answer. 
 
 General Ware with his sister and daughter 
 entered their carriage and drove away. 
 
 Clayborne lifted his hat to them politely, and 
 walked off to the hotel, where he hunted up Ches 
 terfield and sat smoking with his friend until 
 midnight.
 
 CHAPTER XX 
 
 A VOLUME OF EMERSON 
 
 MARJORIE WARE sat alone in her own room at 
 night with a volume of Emerson in her hand. It 
 was a little volume whose well-worn cover of plain 
 brown cloth showed those marks of wear and tear 
 which the books we prize the most are the most 
 likely to receive, and which make them even 
 dearer to us. 
 
 She allowed the book to open at random ; but 
 it was not by mere coincidence that it did so at 
 a certain well-known essay, because between the 
 leaves of the book at the beginning of a discourse 
 entitled "Friendship," and following an essay on 
 a still more interesting subject, lay a letter. 
 
 Marjorie Ware was in love with Gordon Clay- 
 borne. It is perhaps betraying a confidence in 
 setting forth the fact thus boldly upon this par 
 ticular page, for she had never told her love to 
 him ; she had never admitted it to herself ; she 
 had denied it to her father. She had come to the 
 conclusion that Gordon Clayborne was not a man 
 upon whom she could safely place her affections, 
 and she had made up her mind that he must be 
 dismissed from her thoughts. This was more
 
 A VOLUME OF EMERSON 283 
 
 easily resolved upon than done, yet Miss Marjorie 
 was a young woman of determination. From her 
 father she inherited a strong will ; from a long line 
 of Puritan ancestry behind the stern old general 
 she came naturally by an inflexible devotion to pur 
 pose. Therefore, upon beholding Gordon's well- 
 known handwriting upon an envelope encasing an 
 epistle doubtless full of excuses, of regrets, and ex 
 pressions of unfaltering devotion such as men are 
 prone to employ to win a desperate cause, what 
 was more natural and logical than that she should 
 tear the letter into a hundred pieces and cast them 
 from her, just as she had resolved to tear the 
 offender from her heart. Surely it would be un 
 wise to read a document calculated at least to dis 
 turb the mind if not to weaken the resolution. 
 
 The records of affairs of sentiment, as far as the 
 writer of this tale has been able to investigate 
 them, fail to reveal any instance where a woman, 
 similarly placed, has thus sternly treated an unof 
 fending letter, and Marjorie Ware was not the one 
 exception to the rule. She hastily broke the seal 
 and was at once deeply absorbed in the inclosure. 
 
 MY DEAR LITTLE COMRADE : If I do not 
 succeed in my attempt to see and talk to you, and 
 I feel more than a suspicion that your father will 
 endeavor to prevent such a meeting, this letter, if 
 it finds its way into your hands, will tell you what 
 I should have tried to tell you. 
 
 To begin with, you have forbidden me to call
 
 284 THE CLAYBORNES 
 
 you any longer by that familiar and friendly title 
 which has grown dear to me through association 
 and usage. Little comrade, I always think of 
 you as such, it would be impossible for me to re 
 turn so suddenly to a more formal way of address 
 ing you ; so I beseech you, pardon me if I disobey 
 you in this one particular. 
 
 By the time these lines are before your eyes, I 
 shall have left the city ; I shall be once more in 
 the field, with small prospect of seeing you for a 
 long, long period, if indeed that time ever comes 
 again. The uncertainties of this present life are 
 so very great that when we take leave of our friends 
 to return to the seat of war, what is more natural 
 than that we should carry away with us the feel 
 ing that we have possibly looked upon their faces 
 for the last time. This being the case, I want you 
 to think the best you can of me. You told me 
 that in the past you had great confidence in me, 
 that you believed in me completely. I heard you 
 say those words with a momentary joy that was 
 turned into misery on hearing you add that you 
 could never fully trust me again, that the element 
 of doubt would always remain a barrier to our 
 friendship. It will be the object of my life to 
 dispel this doubt. I shall never rest until I have 
 removed that barrier. 
 
 To judge me with justice, you should be able to 
 put yourself in my place. I was in command of 
 a transport upon which was a woman, a young 
 woman whom I had known for many years. She
 
 A VOLUME OF EMERSON 285 
 
 was a prisoner, and I allowed her to escape. You 
 call her a prisoner of war a spy, and say as such 
 she should have been punished. Possibly ; but to 
 me she was a woman. That fact overshadowed all 
 others. In your eyes she beguiled me into letting 
 her go free. In reality she pleaded with me. You 
 cannot understand what it is to be a man and have 
 a woman plead with you for her very life and 
 liberty. If it were possible for you to understand 
 it, you would acquit me. Perhaps there are some 
 men who could have remained obdurate. Gordon 
 Clayborne is not one of those. 
 
 You asked me to assure you that at no time in 
 the past had I entertained for her any affection. 
 How easily could a few words have been spoken 
 to convince you that I had not. Yet I did not 
 speak them. Perhaps I did not deign to. It is 
 impossible for me to understand why you should 
 think the less of me because I may have entertained 
 some tender regard for another, before I ever saw 
 or heard of you. Yet the fact that you demanded 
 such an assurance causes me some pleasure, be 
 cause, in spite of yourself, it shows me that you are 
 not entirely indifferent to me. Although, Marjorie, 
 I may have, in the past, felt for some of your fair 
 sex a sentiment which is akin and was perhaps mis 
 taken for love, I know now that it was but the stir 
 ring of an affection which could not awaken until I 
 had seen you. In them my imagination sought an 
 ideal which could never be realized until I saw you. 
 
 " In them," you repeat. Were there then sev-
 
 286 THE CLAYBORNES 
 
 eral? you ask yourself, opening those dark blue 
 eyes of yours. Little comrade, if there had been 
 a dozen I should love you a dozen times as much. 
 Had there been a hundred, my affection for you 
 would be a hundred-fold as great. 
 
 But you have forbidden me to speak to you of 
 love and I disobey your injunction. I can only 
 offer as an excuse that it would be impossible to 
 write to you at all and not testify to you the ardor, 
 the sincerity of my affection. I had hoped to see 
 you and plead my cause in person ; but failing 
 that, I have only recourse to this cold white paper 
 and this halting pen to implore you to restore me 
 at least to some small niche in the temple of your 
 regard. If, in the future, I ever occupy any part 
 of your thoughts, will you not think of me as a 
 man who is unwavering in his affection for you ? 
 Although you said you could not continue to cor 
 respond with me as you have done in the past, 
 will you not at least write a few lines in answer to 
 this letter ? And if it is impossible for you ever 
 to accord to me the affection which I desire so very 
 much, and had hoped for, at least do not deny me 
 the sunlight of your friendship ; for if you do deny 
 it, I shall be forever the most miserable of men. 
 But I shall always be, 
 
 Your devoted, 
 
 GORDON CLAYBORNE. 
 
 Marjorie Ware read the letter intently, and 
 after sitting for some time in thought, with her blue
 
 A VOLUME OF EMERSON 287 
 
 eyes fixed steadily before her, she turned to the 
 book which had fallen to the floor, and endeavored 
 to quiet her feelings by reading. Gordon's missive 
 had been secreted in the leaves of the book between 
 the two essays most in keeping with his thoughts. 
 One was a discourse upon " Friendship," the other 
 upon " Love." Marjorie's selection chanced to 
 fall upon both of these. When she had finished 
 and closed the book she reread his letter. It is 
 impossible to state with any degree of accuracy how 
 many times she read the letter subsequently, but it 
 is certain that the following epistle, traced in the 
 delicate feminine handwriting of the period, finally 
 found its way to the camp-fire where sat Gordon 
 Clayborne. 
 
 DEAR MR. CLAYBORNE : I cannot refuse to 
 write you a few lines in answer to such an urgent 
 appeal as that contained in the letter which I 
 found so unexpectedly upon taking up the volume 
 of Emerson. If it is a matter of such vast im 
 portance to you, I will write to you sometimes, 
 only I must beg of you not to write me such ar 
 dent protestations of affection as those contained 
 in your recent letter. It would not be right for 
 me to permit it, for I feel certain that I can never 
 entertain for you any deeper feeling than that of 
 a friend. At one time I did think that you had 
 forfeited even that title, but upon reconsideration, 
 I have acquitted you of any intentional double 
 dealing with me; at the same time I feel quite
 
 288 THE CLAYBORNES 
 
 sure that your temperament and mine render us 
 unsuited for any closer tie. 
 
 You say so earnestly that you wish for and will 
 be satisfied with my friendship, that I cannot deny 
 it to you ; particularly as I always shall feel an 
 interest in the welfare of one who for so long held 
 a high place in my esteem. 
 
 Please, my dear Mr. Clayborne, consider this as 
 final ; and if it gives you pain to read it, remember 
 it pains me to write it. But after what has oc 
 curred it is the only thing to do. So, if you do 
 write me again, or if after the war you should see 
 me again, please understand that I can never be 
 more than 
 
 Your sincere friend, 
 
 MAKJOKIE WAKE.
 
 CHAPTER XXI 
 
 THE HOUSE AT THE CROSS-ROADS 
 
 As the months went by General Ware's health 
 had become restored, and once more he had com 
 mand of a brigade in the field. Again his impas 
 sive face was turned critically up and down the 
 long line of troops. Again the soldiers heard his 
 cold quiet voice issuing calm orders at the drill 
 or on the field of battle. General Ware enforced 
 their obedience and commanded their respect ; and 
 although neither he nor they were aware that he 
 possessed their affection, he could have led them 
 through a fiery furnace to the very last man. 
 
 Marjorie Ware had gone to the front as a field 
 nurse. Her father had promised her that she 
 should, and she held him to his word. 
 
 The opposing armies had struggled back and 
 forth in the Wilderness, leaving a long sickening 
 trail of blood. 
 
 With the cry of " On to Richmond ! " the Army 
 of the Potomac had fought the battles of Spottsyl- 
 vania and Cold Harbor, and others no less terrible 
 and bloody. Lee had made one last attempt to 
 " swap queens " by threatening Washington. The 
 country was thrown into a fever of alarm, but
 
 290 THE CLAYBORNES 
 
 Grant did not retreat. He sent support to the 
 capital, while he continued to advance. 
 
 Slowly Lee had been driven back into Rich 
 mond, stubbornly contesting each foot of the soil ; 
 taking three men for every two he lost ; planning 
 and mancBuvring with all his old-time skill ; exe 
 cuting and fighting with all his old brilliancy and 
 vigor. But where his army went there followed 
 Grant, fighting wherever Lee would stand ; like a 
 giant hammer, ever pounding the same spot ; per 
 sistently, relentlessly pushing forward, always to 
 ward the same end. With so many thousands 
 falling in battle, there was ample work for Mar- 
 jorie Ware to do. How was she able to do it? 
 To nurse the wounded, to see the blood, the suffer 
 ing, and the disease ; to support all this willingly, 
 cheerfully, and not be overpowered by the burden ? 
 She was delicate to look at, with soft skin and 
 slender figure, but concealed under that Delicate 
 exterior she had a fibre of nerve which carried her 
 through the many trials. She was one of many 
 women who uncomplainingly and fearlessly endured 
 privation and overwork with a courage unsur 
 passed by the bravest men ; inspired by the same 
 patriotism, supported by the same spirit. 
 
 It was toward the 1st of April, 1865, and Mar- 
 jorie was riding her little mare Dolly along a road 
 deep with Virginia mud. It was night and Miss 
 Ware was alone. She had started that afternoon 
 in the company of a cavalcade of several hundred 
 from Petersburg, expecting long before nightfall
 
 THE HOUSE AT THE CROSS-ROADS 291 
 
 to be at Dinwiddie, where there was work for her 
 to do. Miss Ware had been careless. The day 
 had been exceptionally fine, and she had allowed 
 her mare to linger behind while she herself enjoyed 
 the pleasant air and sunshine, doubly sweet after 
 a long period spent in hospital tents. Marjorie 
 had taken the wrong road and had lost her way. 
 She was not greatly worried, for as soon as she 
 became aware of her error she began to retrace 
 her route, feeling certain that her absence would 
 soon be discovered, and that some one would be 
 sure to come back in search of her. But mean 
 while the horse was stumbling with fatigue, and 
 the rider was wet and numb from a cold rain which 
 had set in. This rain drove violently in her face, 
 a pelting, blinding storm, which cut her cheek 
 pitilessly, and made the mare droop her head and 
 swerve in her attempt to turn from the tempest. 
 It was so dark Marjorie could not distinguish the 
 road save for the splashing of the horse's hoofs 
 through the mire, and the dark wall of trees on 
 each side of the way. She drew her little army 
 cloak more closely around her, and wondered 
 whether she would be obliged to spend the night 
 thus, and whether the mare and she could hold 
 out until assistance or morning came. " We must 
 keep up heart a little longer, Dolly," she said, 
 trying to revive her own courage by speaking 
 cheerily to the horse. " They must have missed 
 us some time ago, and may come at any moment 
 to find us."
 
 292 THE CLAYBORNES 
 
 A light shone through the trees in front of her. 
 It seemed to disappear, then came again to shine 
 more steadily. " There they are now, Doll ! " she 
 exclaimed joyfully. " Did I not tell you they 
 would soon find us? " She urged the horse forward 
 as she spoke, and the intelligent creature pricked 
 up its ears, and responded to her voice by in 
 creasing its speed to a canter. Marjorie gave a 
 loud call and rode forward, forgetful for the mo 
 ment of the rain and chill. The light remained 
 stationary, and Miss Ware finally drew rein, to 
 find herself in front of a house which stood hidden 
 among the trees a few rods back from the road. 
 The girl sat still in the saddle. The mare drooped 
 her head, and cowed again before the blast. Mar 
 jorie hesitated. She was in an enemy's country. 
 It was night, and she was alone. Her spirits 
 sank again. Here was shelter ; but was it a safe 
 one? The storm seemed to increase in violence, 
 swaying the trees about the house, and beating 
 against the paintless boards worn gray by a hun 
 dred similar encounters with the elements. But 
 here was refuge, and she decided to avail of it. 
 The chances were in favor of her finding human 
 beings willing to afford her shelter for the night. 
 Her calling should be her protection if she needed 
 any. She approached. A small outhouse caught 
 her eye. This would offer a snug place for Dolly, 
 she thought, and riding in, she saw that although 
 it was untenanted there was a small quantity of 
 dry hay and straw. With a childlike cry of joy
 
 THE HOUSE AT THE CROSS-ROADS 293 
 
 she dismounted. " Here is bed and board for you, 
 my pet," she exclaimed, and like a good little 
 soldier made the mare comfortable for the night. 
 Then she went to the house and knocked boldly 
 at the door. The wind and rain drowned all her 
 efforts to rouse the inmates, for no answer came. 
 She knocked again, louder than before, and raising 
 her voice called shrilly for those within to open. 
 She began to think she would have to share the 
 horse's straw bed when the sound of a bolt being 
 slipped back was received with welcome by her 
 ears. The door opened a little way. Thinking 
 only to get out of the tempest, Marjorie pushed 
 in. A heavy gust of wind blew the door shut with 
 a bang, at the same time extinguishing a light 
 held in a man's hand. 
 
 With fast beating heart Marjorie heard the bolt 
 shoved back into place, while she stood in the dark 
 ness. In the brief instant she had caught a glimpse 
 of the figure before her, and it had sent a creeping 
 fear through her whole body. A hand was placed 
 on her shoulder, and she was conducted into the 
 room where there was light. A small fire of pine 
 knots burned merrily on a hearth, throwing fan 
 tastic shadows on the bare walls. Marjorie, with 
 her cape over her head, disclosing only a part of 
 her face, confronted two men. She looked at them 
 intently, with a frightened expression in her deep 
 blue eyes, made brighter by excitement. He who 
 had brought her in was short and stout, with a 
 face of Hibernian mould. His hair and beard
 
 294 THE CLAYBORNES 
 
 were red and shaggy. In some fracas he had lost 
 an eye, and that which remained to him was red, 
 either from drink or rage, and he was unsteady in 
 his gait. Without speaking, he walked or rather 
 swayed toward a chair and sat down wearily. His 
 clothing was rough and worn, and splashed with 
 mud. There were other splashes on his coat. 
 They were dark red, and Marjorie saw that they 
 were of blood. Around his neck he had tied a 
 handkerchief, and this also was dyed red. 
 
 Marjorie looked from this unwelcome sight to 
 the other figure. He was standing by the table 
 with one hand resting heavily upon it. He was 
 young and well built. His face was bronzed from 
 long exposure, and might not have been called 
 bad looking if his eyes had not been inflamed by 
 passion and drink. He, like his companion, was 
 splashed with mud from top to toe. A knife lay 
 where it had been thrown on the floor at his feet. 
 He did not stoop to pick it up, but pouring some 
 liquor into a cup from a demijohn at his elbow, 
 pushed the jug across the table toward his com 
 panion with a gesture half conciliatory, half con 
 temptuous, saying grimly, " Here, Galloway, take 
 a drink," and then slowly drank his own dram, 
 looking at Marjorie as he did so. The dancing 
 fire threw its fitful light about the room, now glow 
 ing upon the men's faces, now casting them in 
 shadow, making them look more brutal and the 
 scene more weird. 
 
 The taller man was the first to speak. " I know
 
 THE HOUSE AT THE CROSS-ROADS 295 
 
 we are drunk," he said, struggling to keep back 
 a hiccough. 
 
 Marjorie was frightened. She saw that she was 
 at the mercy of two drunken men. That neither 
 of them made any attempt to harm her reassured 
 her only for the moment. That they seemed to 
 regard without surprise her entrance upon the 
 scene of their orgie merely indicated how far gone 
 were their reasoning faculties. She looked about 
 her quickly for the best method of escape, know 
 ing that she must keep her wits, trusting that the 
 stupor of the men would permit her to get -out of 
 the terrifying situation. 
 
 " Yes, we 're drunk, Miss Miss, dang it, can't 
 remember name, but we 've cause to be. Work 
 ing day and night for a week look at us don't 
 we look as though we needed bracing up ? " The 
 question admitted of no denial and Marjorie "made 
 no answer. 
 
 " But clid n't expect you so early, Miss I '11 
 remember your name soon as I get little sober 
 or should n't have gotten like this ; but I 'm not so 
 bad as I look can talk business Jes' wait a 
 little till I dip my head in cold water. I '11 be back 
 shortly. It '11 take more 'n pint of whiskey to bowl 
 over Jake Kilby when there 's business to attend 
 to or ladies " 
 
 Having delivered himself thus, slowly and with 
 some difficulty, stumbling over the longer words 
 and making the greatest effort to be coherent, 
 Jake Kilby steadied himself against the table and
 
 296 THE CLAYBORNES 
 
 walked with surprising straightness towards the 
 door. 
 
 Marjorie stepped quickly out of his way. What 
 he meant by this harangue she could not under 
 stand, but both men evidently looked upon her as 
 an expected guest. She resolved to humor this 
 whim, hoping that before the revelers came to their 
 senses she would get out of the house and safely 
 upon Dolly's back. It was with a feeling of joy 
 that she saw Kilby leave the door open and disap 
 pear into the dark passageway. Here she heard 
 him stumble, and striking against some inanimate 
 object swear at it roundly. Then his heavy boots 
 sounded in a distant room, followed by the swash 
 of water, accompanied by puffing and blowing as 
 of a porpoise. 
 
 Marjorie gave an anxious look at the man seated 
 in the chair. He ignored her presence completely. 
 With a light tread the girl was out in the hall and 
 fumbling at the huge bolt. It was rusty and re 
 fused to budge. She tried to push back the iron 
 bar, and only succeeded in making it rattle loudly. 
 She stopped to listen ; Kilby was still occupied 
 with his ablutions. Again she tried, with all her 
 strength, with all the desperation of necessity and 
 of despair. She could not get out. She halted, 
 breathless. A feeling of her helplessness came 
 over her. She rattled at the bolt noisily and 
 struck the panel in anger with her clinched hand. 
 She was obliged to remain a prisoner. Not know 
 ing which way to turn, in her extremity she went
 
 THE HOUSE AT THE CROSS-ROADS 297 
 
 back into the room. The man with the bloody 
 kerchief was talking to himself. Marjorie went 
 up to him and said in a tone of command : 
 
 " Come and open the door ! I wish to go out." 
 
 " He struck me," muttered the man, blinking 
 at her with his one red eye. " He struck me with 
 a knife my own knife, too He turned it 
 against me." 
 
 " Who did ? " inquired Marjorie. 
 
 " Kilby did," was the reply, while he looked up 
 at her. 
 
 She saw he had renewed his potations from the 
 
 " My own knife," he went on in a maudlin tone. 
 
 Marjorie stooped quickly, caught up the weapon, 
 and concealed it under her cloak. Then she 
 grasped him by the shoulder and in peremptory 
 tones said, " Rouse yourself, man, and open the 
 door for me ! I want to go out ! " 
 
 " Can't see why ! " he hiccoughed. 
 
 " It is not for you to see, but to obey," she said 
 sternly. 
 
 The drunken man got upon his feet with dif 
 ficulty. Overcoming her great repugnance, she 
 assisted his tottering legs in a zigzag path to the 
 front door. Her heart beat high between antici 
 pation of a speedy release and fear that the man 
 was too far gone in his cups to move the bolt. 
 
 " Quick ! " she exclaimed in an excited whisper, 
 hardly able to repress a cry of fear as she heard 
 Kilby's footsteps approaching.
 
 298 THE CLAYBORNES 
 
 The drunkard fumbled at the bolt, muttering to 
 himself. Before he could draw it back, a sharp 
 knock sounded on the outside, and voices were 
 heard in conversation. Marjorie stepped back, 
 looked around helplessly, and made a run for the 
 stairway. Upstairs she bounded like a frightened 
 deer, bent only on escaping the present danger, 
 and stood on the landing above in the darkness 
 with beating heart, wondering what the outcome 
 for her would be. If the newcomers were men 
 untouched by drink, she felt that, although they 
 were enemies, an appeal to their manhood would 
 not be unheeded, and they would allow a woman 
 to depart unmolested. She listened, as Kilby 
 reached the door, pushed his companion aside so 
 heavily as to cause him to fall, and threw back the 
 bolt. 
 
 To her intense joy a woman's voice spoke, a 
 voice of refinement doubly musical to her ear. 
 
 Marjorie had her foot on the stair to descend 
 when Kilby pronounced a name which caused her 
 to stop short, as if she had been struck. 
 
 " You, Miss Dowd, why, I thought you were in 
 the house ! " 
 
 " Kilby, what is the matter with you ? You 've 
 been drinking ! Shame upon you, man ! at such a 
 time when there is work to be done ! And as for 
 that drunken creature who has fallen asleep there 
 in the corner, he is disgraceful. I thought I could 
 depend on you at least, Kilby." 
 
 " So you can, Miss Dowd. I am sobering up
 
 THE HOUSE AT THE CROSS-ROADS 299 
 
 quickly. It is n't often whiskey gets the best of 
 me." 
 
 " What was that you said about my being in 
 the house ? " 
 
 Kilby hesitated. To repeat that he had mis 
 taken another for her would be to show that he 
 had been more under the influence of the liquor 
 than his pride would let him admit. He drew his 
 hand across his forehead and looked about him. 
 The first woman had disappeared. " I have been 
 pretty far gone, Miss, but I am all right now and 
 ready for business. I must have dreamed it." 
 
 Flora Dowd paid no further attention to the 
 subject, attributing it to the fantastic whim of an 
 inebriate's brain. 
 
 " Lock the outer door and come into the room 
 here ! " Then, in the next breath, she cried, 
 " Lord, what a disorderly place ! Put a few more 
 sticks on the fire ! Cannot you bring a lamp ? 
 We must have more light. I expect Major Clay- 
 borne to meet me here." 
 
 There was no mistaking the words. Marjorie 
 heard them plainly, Major Clayborne. He had 
 written her recently of his promotion. Although 
 she had not seen him during the past year, he had 
 through his letter slowly reestablished himself in 
 her esteem. Down in her heart she still had cher 
 ished the belief that he was worthy of much regard. 
 Now her last atom of trust was shattered with a 
 sudden blow. How could it be possible that a man 
 could be so false, not to her alone, but to every
 
 300 THE CLAYBORNES 
 
 trust ! Yet she heard the words spoken plainly, so 
 carelessly and naturally, " Major Clayborne to 
 meet me here." Marjorie thought no longer of 
 escape ; she only thought of learning more, of ob 
 taining possession of the truth, of solving the whole 
 mystery at whatever cost, at whatever risk to her 
 self. She entered the room above that which was 
 occupied below. The house was unfurnished. The 
 upper rooms were unused and untenanted, save by 
 rats which skurried about, squeaking. She sat 
 down, thinking only of one thing. The ceiling of 
 the room below was unplastered, and the sound of 
 voices came to her through the floor upon which 
 she sat, but beyond an occasional word she could 
 distinguish nothing but the murmur. A slight ray 
 of light came up through a crack in the boards. 
 She took the knife which she still had in her hand, 
 and stealthily, with the greatest pains, cut the 
 crack a little larger, until by putting her eye close 
 to it she could make out a little of the scene 
 below. Quietly as a mouse at its nocturnal work, 
 she plied the knife, gradually making the aperture 
 larger and larger, carefully brushing each shaving 
 to one side. She was at work directly over the 
 table, and could now see a young and handsome 
 woman sitting nonchalantly on the edge of it, with 
 one foot on the floor, while a glimpse of a portion 
 of Kilby's large figure was visible, seated hi a 
 chair on the other side. A few tiny slivers of 
 wood dropped full upon the table. 
 
 "What was that?" exclaimed Flora Dowd, 
 looking up.
 
 THE HOUSE AT THE CROSS-ROADS 301 
 
 Marjorie's blood seemed to stop flowing, the 
 knife remained poised in air. 
 
 " It must be the rats," answered Kilby indiffer 
 ently. " The old place is full of them." 
 
 The conversation below was resumed. 
 
 Marjorie waited, hardly breathing for several 
 minutes, then the mouse began its work again. 
 When she had made the hole as large as she dared, 
 she lay extended on the floor, and placing her eye 
 to the aperture could see a part of the room and 
 both of the occupants. With her ear to the crev 
 ice she could hear all that was said. A fierce 
 thrill of excitement went through her. She forgot 
 her past fears. If there was a double game to be 
 played in love and war she could play her part. 
 
 By the use of an abundance of cold water, 
 Kilby had succeeded in throwing off the effects of 
 the liquor. He was a man who could consume a 
 large quantity of whiskey, but he rarely allowed it 
 to overpower him when there was work to be done. 
 He entertained a marked respect for Regina Bowie, 
 known to him as Flora Dowd, and felt ashamed 
 not so much that she had seen him indulging in a 
 debauch, as that she should find him remiss in his 
 duty. The hazy recollection of another woman 
 who had appeared so mysteriously out of the night 
 and whom he had mistaken for Miss Dowd still 
 troubled him. What had become of her puzzled 
 him. He concluded that in the confusion inci 
 dent to the arrival of Flora the other woman had 
 slipped out into the darkness as mysteriously as 
 she had come in.
 
 302 THE CLAYBORNES 
 
 Regina Bowie had drawn a chair up to the table 
 and was busy reading a letter. She was wet from 
 the rain and mud bespattered, but indifferent to 
 these discomforts she was absorbed in the business 
 of the moment. Marjorie studied her with the 
 deepest interest, examining every detail of her 
 face. The arched eyebrow, the delicate nose, the 
 resolute mouth, a little large, but a captivating 
 mouth with warm red lips which, when parted in a 
 smile, revealed white, even teeth. That she was 
 handsome Marjorie could not deny, although she 
 saw in her the woman who was responsible for 
 Gordon Clay borne' s perfidy. 
 
 Marjorie once had held him as a hero, she had 
 placed him upon a pedestal and worshiped him 
 from afar. She had seen the idol descend from 
 its column and become nothing more than a man. 
 As time wore on she had begun to rehabilitate the 
 idol and replace it upon its pedestal, and now a 
 stroke of lightning had laid it low in the dust at 
 her feet, shattered into a thousand fragments. She 
 was outraged, wrathful. She felt that she could 
 punish the apostate with unrelenting sternness. 
 
 If it had not been for these passions which up 
 held her she would have been broken-hearted. 
 
 The storm had lulled. Only a fitful wailing of 
 the dying wind sounded through the tall pines. 
 The heavy thud of horses' hoofs announced the 
 approach of some riders. 
 
 Alert on the instant, Regina looked up. " That 
 must be Clayborne," she said.
 
 THE HOUSE AT THE CROSS-ROADS 303 
 
 The woman listening in the room above drew a 
 quick breath ; the word had cut her sharply. 
 
 " Does he know where to put up the horses ? " 
 Regina inquired. 
 
 " I '11 go and show him," and Kilby went out of 
 the front door, leaving it open after him. 
 
 The night air blew in with a chill. Regina 
 poured out some whiskey and drank it off easily. 
 Then she drew up to the fire and waited. Kilby 
 met the newcomers in the road, and led them to a 
 spot some little distance back in the woods, where 
 for greater safety all the horses were kept. 
 
 Now was the moment for Marjorie Ware to 
 leave the house. Here was an opportunity to slip 
 out to the shed where she had left Dolly, and 
 after the men had entered the house to ride off in 
 safety. The thought of flight never entered her 
 head. She tiptoed to the window with all the 
 precaution of a thief and looked out into the 
 night. She could discern little beyond the sway 
 ing pine-trees near the house and the dark sky 
 above. The tramp of boots and the jingle of 
 spurs on the porch brought her back to her peep 
 hole. Two young men in Confederate gray entered 
 the room with Kilby. Marjorie's heart was beat 
 ing so fast and loud as to pain her, but her lips 
 were set with determination. She was resolved to 
 meet guile with guile. 
 
 If Major Gordon Clayborne had come to betray 
 the secrets of the Union side, a retribution was in 
 store for him. Marjorie would hear everything
 
 304 THE CLAYBORNES 
 
 that was said, and if she ever escaped she would 
 not spare him. 
 
 One of the officers lay down by the fire in si 
 lence with an air of dejection and fatigue; the 
 other in the centre of the room stood buoyantly as 
 if no weather or reverse of fortune could dampen 
 his spirits. Although his back was turned to her, 
 Marjorie thought she recognized his figure before 
 he spoke. How she loathed him in his gray coat ! 
 
 " Gad, Regina, what a night we 've had. I 
 mean Major." He corrected himself with a laugh. 
 " I always forget your title." 
 
 Clayborne's voice ! 
 
 How vividly Marjorie recalled when she had 
 last heard it ! How he had pleaded with her to 
 believe in him and trust him ! How nearly he had 
 persuaded her ! She shuddered now to think how 
 near, and thanked God that she had not granted 
 him the last begged-for interview in Washington. 
 She recalled the letters he had since written to her, 
 full of sentiment and affection, notwithstanding 
 her strong edict that love should be proscribed. 
 She knew that she could never believe in any man 
 again as long as she lived except her father. 
 
 She noticed that there was a lighter quality to 
 Clayborne's voice. The same soft intonations were 
 there, but he spoke more airily, and with a little 
 more vivacity. But was he not speaking to the 
 woman he loved, and could he not change his mood 
 as easily as he could his coat ? 
 
 " Well, Major, what is your budget of news ? "
 
 THE HOUSE AT THE CROSS-ROADS 305 
 
 continued Clayborne. He changed his position as 
 he spoke, the light from the fire fell across his face, 
 and nothing but the greatest self-control prevented 
 Marjorie from crying out aloud. It was not Gor 
 don Clayborne ! The same dark, curly hair, the 
 same fine forehead, but not Gordon.
 
 CHAPTER XXII 
 
 MAEJORIE WARE AND REGINA BOWIE 
 
 " MY news is not of the brightest, Clifford," 
 said Regina, taking a chair by the fire. 
 
 " Let us have it. No one in the service has 
 brought more accurate news." 
 
 " Sheridan is at Dinwiddie," continued the young 
 woman. 
 
 " I know it," nodded Major Clifford Clayborne. 
 " The little cuss is tearing up the railroads and 
 destroying our communications with his usual 
 activity." 
 
 "Do you know how many men he has with 
 him ? " inquired Regina. 
 
 " The rascal generally rides on his raids at the 
 head of five or ten thousand of his robbers," re 
 plied Clifford. 
 
 " He has nine thousand mounted men," ex 
 claimed Regina. " Here is a copy of a letter from 
 him to one of his division commanders. Warren 
 has been ordered to support him. You see Sheri 
 dan is not merely on a raid. It is to be a general 
 advance all along the line." 
 
 "Well, let them advance," said Clifford dog 
 gedly. " They can have Richmond if they want
 
 MARJORIE WARE AND REGINA BOWIE 307 
 
 to, but they can't have Lee. They can't have the 
 Army of Northern Virginia." 
 
 " Clifford, you do not mean that Richmond will 
 surrender ! " cried Regina. 
 
 " It will, my dear," answered the Confederate 
 major gloomily. " Lee cannot hold Richmond 
 another week. Before three days are over they 
 must all be out of the city. There is no use clos 
 ing our eyes to the inevitable." 
 
 " Clifford," cried Regina, " what you tell me 
 breaks my heart ! " There was a note of pain in 
 her voice, and she walked up and down the room 
 with the nervous tread of a caged panther. The 
 heart in the bosom of the other woman, listening 
 with breathless interest in the room above, was 
 correspondingly elated. 
 
 " I cannot believe it," moaned Regina. " I will 
 not believe it ! " she added fiercely, stamping her 
 foot on the floor. " I will take a musket and stand 
 on the ramparts myself before I will see the city 
 given over to the hands of those vandals ! " 
 
 " Our men have fought like heroes," said Clif 
 ford quietly. 
 
 " I know they have," acquiesced Regina, " but 
 they must hold out. What will the country say- 
 when it hears that all is lost ? " 
 
 " All is not lost," cried Clifford, springing to 
 his feet. " They can have Richmond. They will 
 find it but an empty shell, a husk for which they 
 have spent their treasure and wasted rivers of 
 blood. They will find the real Southern Confeder-
 
 308 THE CLAYBORNES 
 
 acy in the hearts of Lee and his soldiers. There 
 the fire of patriotism will continue to burn. They 
 cannot quench that, Regina." 
 
 " I will never submit to these invaders of our 
 soil. If they cannot subdue our women, then 
 how can they expect to subdue our men ? " cried 
 Regina. 
 
 " You are well worthy of your shoulder-straps, 
 Major," exclaimed Clifford, changing his mood 
 to one of gayety. " The reports which you have 
 brought to me are of inestimable value. I shall 
 take them to Richmond at once. Anything of 
 value or interest which comes in your way send 
 or bring to me there." 
 
 " Trust me, Clifford, to let nothing escape me 
 which will be of value to our side. I '11 go out 
 again. Good-by, till we meet again, my boy." 
 
 " All right, Regina," replied Clifford. " But 
 first I must get something to eat, for I am raven 
 ous. Then I '11 ride back at once. Come, Kilby, 
 have you anything in the larder ? " 
 
 " Nothing but chicken and hoecake, plenty of 
 that," answered Kilby. 
 
 " Chicken and hoecake," repeated Clifford. 
 " You scouts feast like Olympian gods. I only 
 wish the poor fellows in the trenches at Richmond 
 could get a bite of such fare. But as they can't, 
 Kilby, set forth the provender and I '11 do double 
 justice to it. There 's work to be done, and we 
 must stoke up the furnace fires of the old machine, 
 so that she will run full blast," and Clifford, cross-
 
 MARJORIE WARE AND REGINA BOWIE 309 
 
 ing over to where the officer lay sleeping on his 
 blanket by the fire, shook him by the arm. 
 
 The man roused himself wearily, rose to a sit 
 ting posture, and murmured something in a low 
 voice. From her position Marjorie could not see 
 him ; she could only hear the clear voice of Major 
 Clifford Clayborne. 
 
 " Nonsense, man, eat something. The reason 
 you have no strength is because you don't take 
 enough food when chance brings it in your way. 
 As for me, I 'm going to fill my belly for present 
 needs, and my saddle-bags for the future. After 
 that, let hunger find me if she will, for I 'm damned 
 if I know where the supplies will come from." 
 
 The other kicked aside the blanket and rose to 
 his feet. 
 
 "That's right, old fellow," cried Clifford. 
 " Take a nip of whiskey to give you an appetite, 
 and then take a chicken leg in your ringers, for 
 we must get away at once." 
 
 Eegina, who had been tightening her belt, and 
 preparing herself for further scout duty, poured 
 out three generous drams. " Come, Frank," she 
 said gayly, " brace up and be a man. Take a 
 drink to the success of the only cause worthy of 
 a man's courage." 
 
 " I '11 drink to you, Regina," cried the young 
 man, taking the cup fiercely. " I '11 drink to your 
 eyes your lips your soul everything about 
 you you, for whom I have given up friends, 
 honor, country, everything the world holds dear."
 
 310 THE CLAYBORNES 
 
 " Come, Frank, old fellow, don't be sentimental 
 now. There 's other and more important work in 
 hand." 
 
 " But I can only think of you. I only live for 
 a word from you. It was I who really let you 
 escape from the River Queen, not Gordon Clay- 
 borne. I could have held you prisoner, but I did 
 not. You have held me a prisoner ever since. 
 Either let me go or give me a little portion of that 
 hire for which I sold myself, your heart." 
 
 Regina laughed her low, musical laugh. " I will 
 not let you go. I could never spare you, Frank, 
 and you are always in my heart, you silly fellow. 
 Come, let that suffice you." 
 
 " Am I, Regina, am I really of some value in 
 your eyes ? " cried the young man, his wan face 
 lighting up. " Then I will do anything in the 
 world for you. I will go now to the horses and 
 have them all ready. Bring me a bit of food if 
 you wish, Clay borne," and he hurriedly left the 
 room. 
 
 Regina shrugged her shoulders and looked at 
 Clifford. " Frank 's a good fellow," she said 
 lightly, "but we must hurry now and not lose 
 any more time." 
 
 Clifford, who took his love affairs lightly, did 
 not give a passing thought to what was tragedy in 
 the life of another man. 
 
 " Lead on, Regina ; let us see what Kilby has 
 prepared," and whistling merrily, Major Clifford 
 Clayborne followed her from the room.
 
 MARJORIE WARE AND REGINA BOWIE 311 
 
 With swimming head, and heart beating to 
 suffocation, Marjorie Ware had seen the brother 
 whom she had thought dead standing below among 
 her enemies, the enemies of his country. He was 
 pale and thin ; worn to a shadow of the boy she 
 had mourned as dead, but he moved and talked in 
 the land of the living. What he said seemed at 
 first almost meaningless to her. She could not 
 believe in her own senses but lay half stunned 
 upon the floor. Slowly the full significance pen 
 etrated to her bewildered mind, and by an effort 
 of her will she roused herself to thought and action. 
 
 The three Confederates were eating in the 
 kitchen. She could hear the low murmur of their 
 conversation, and occasionally an outburst in the 
 fresh voice of Clifford Clayborne. Her brother 
 had just left the house. He was somewhere near 
 at hand. He was not a rebel, not an enemy, but 
 her brother. She must find him. He would be 
 her protector. She would win him back from the 
 woman who was destroying him. A certain fierce 
 spirit which she never knew she possessed roused 
 itself within her. She felt herself the match for 
 this other woman. 
 
 Summoning all her wits, she rose cautiously to 
 her feet. She steadied herself for an instant, 
 took up the knife, put it in her belt, and crept 
 stealthily towards the door. Down the stairs she 
 went step by step. The front door was half open ; 
 the gray light of approaching dawn showed her 
 the way. Once outside that door and she would
 
 312 THE CLAYBORNES 
 
 be free, free, with the secret of Lee's scouts in 
 her possession, free to find her brother, and ride 
 off with him to the Union lines, for he must come 
 with her, she was determined. Silently she came 
 down, her eyes fixed intently on the streak of 
 light which fell athwart the floor. She longed to 
 spring down the staircase at a bound, fling open 
 the door, and rush off into the wood. Such a 
 course would give an instant alarm and insure cap 
 ture. She must have Frank, then ride away on 
 Dolly's back. The game must be played out care 
 fully to the end. 
 
 Kilby, no longer drunk, but sober and alert, had 
 heard a rustling noise overhead, followed by a light 
 step on the stairs. He stole quickly out into the 
 hallway, and as Marjorie's foot touched the last 
 stair his arm wound about her waist, and she was 
 held a prisoner, with the brown face of Kilby look 
 ing down into hers. If she could have driven the 
 knife deep into him and flown out of the door, she 
 would have done so ; but holding her without effort 
 with one hand, he disarmed her with the other. 
 She tried to struggle, but it was fruitless. She was 
 her captor's superior in brains, in spirit, in courage 
 even, for he might have yielded under conditions 
 where she had fought on. In everything but brute 
 force did she surpass him, but brute force held'the 
 day without effort. With a smile upon his face, 
 Kilby drew her back into the room. 
 
 " You don't look much like Miss Boyd now. I 
 must have been pretty drunk," he said grimly.
 
 MARJORIE WARE AND REGINA BOWIE 313 
 
 *' And so you have been in the house all the time," 
 he added. 
 
 During these terrible moments she had not 
 spoken. Kilby had taken her so unawares, so 
 suddenly had her hopes of flight been dispelled, 
 that she could only struggle in desperation to ob 
 tain the liberty which had been so nearly won. 
 Now she looked up into his face, and putting into 
 her voice all the pleading she could muster, she 
 said : " I want to find my brother. I implore you, 
 if ever you had a sister let me go. I beseech 
 you, in the name of any woman whom you hold in 
 affection, do not keep me from him." 
 
 Kilby released his hold, but as she darted toward 
 the door his big form blocked the way. 
 
 " Not so fast," he said quietly. " Who is your 
 brother?" 
 
 " Francis Ware," panted Marjorie. " He who 
 just left the house a few moments ago. Quick ! let 
 me follow him, or it will be too late ! " 
 
 Kilby shook his head. " I can't until I know 
 more about you. You have been hiding in the 
 house, perhaps spying. Have you been listening 
 at keyholes ? " 
 
 " I came in here only to find shelter from the 
 storm. I swear solemnly I will never reveal a 
 word I may have heard." 
 
 " Then you have heard something ? " 
 
 " I will never open my mouth, I swear to you." 
 
 Kilby shook his head. " I would n't trust a 
 woman on that score," he replied.
 
 314 THE CLAYBORNES 
 
 Clifford Clayborne's voice was heard in the 
 hall. 
 
 " Now, Regina, we must be off. Remember 
 where to send to me. May success attend you," 
 and Major Clayborne was about to depart when, 
 looking into the room, he stopped in surprise. 
 
 " What have we here a petticoat ! " he ex 
 claimed, entering the room. " By Jove, what have 
 you been hiding, Kilby ? And such a pretty one, 
 too. What 's the matter, my dear ? Has Kilby 
 been treating you unkindly ? " 
 
 "Oh, sir, as you are a gentleman, let me go 
 from here, I beg of you ! " 
 
 She tried to dart past Kilby, but he laid a re 
 straining arm about her. 
 
 " Hands off, Kilby," cried Clifford gayly, 
 " don't you see the lady wants to come to me ? " 
 
 " I wish to leave the house," repeated Mar- 
 jorie. " I implore you, sir, who have the man 
 ners of a gentleman, to permit me to go in 
 peace." 
 
 At a peremptory gesture from Clifford Clay- 
 borne, Kilby released Marjorie. "Let me per 
 suade you to stay, my love," said Clifford, gallantly 
 coming forward. " I do not know where you have 
 come from, but I cannot take leave of such a pretty 
 young creature so coldly." 
 
 " Clifford," cried Regina, who had followed him 
 into the room and stood behind him impatiently, 
 " what can you be thinking of to waste precious 
 moments like the present at such nonsense ! Kilby,
 
 MAKJORIE WARE AND REGINA BOWIE 315 
 
 how did this young woman get into the house? 
 What does she want here ? " 
 
 " I think she has been hiding here some time," 
 replied Kilby. " I am afraid she has been spying 
 on us." 
 
 " Then lock her up where she can do no harm. 
 We will look into her case later. There is no 
 time now, as we all must be about our duty." 
 
 Kilby started to obey the command. " I '11 keep 
 her safe in one of the rooms under lock and key," 
 he said quietly. 
 
 " I promise faithfully to repeat no word that I 
 have heard," cried Marjorie, " if you will only let 
 me go." She looked at Clifford as she spoke. 
 
 " She shall go," cried Clifford suddenly. " We 
 will not keep the little girl here. She can do no 
 harm. Let her out, Kilby." 
 
 " Clifford Clayborne ! " cried Kegina Bowie, 
 "this is folly on your part. She may do great 
 harm. She may have overheard all that we have 
 said. We cannot afford to take the risk. Kilby, 
 do as I command ! " 
 
 Clifford sprang forward, his eyes flashing, his 
 handsome face all aglow. 
 
 " Put your hand on that girl and I '11 brain you, 
 Kilby ! " he cried. 
 
 " Clifford, are you mad? " remonstrated Regina, 
 turning from red to white with anger. " Don't 
 you see the risk? " 
 
 " She is a woman," replied Clifford, " and she 
 has asked my protection. No Clayborne has ever
 
 316 THE CLAYBORNES 
 
 refused that to a woman. Let her go from here, 
 Kilby ! " 
 
 His voice, manner, and every gesture were so 
 like his elder brother's that Marjorie seemed to 
 see Gordon there before her saying : 
 
 " She was a woman and I could not hold her a 
 prisoner." 
 
 There was silence for a moment. Then Regina 
 took up the word. " Would you injure our cause, 
 Clifford, in the hour of great peril, for a woman ? 
 for a woman, too, about whom you know no 
 thing? That is carrying foolish sentiment too far. 
 In the name of your duty, I implore you to allow 
 us at least to keep this girl here a few hours." 
 
 Clifford hesitated ; then turning to Kilby, said 
 abruptly : 
 
 " You may stay here and keep this young lady 
 one hour not a moment longer. Then let her 
 go where she wills. That cannot hurt her. Treat 
 her with every respect ! If you do not, you shall 
 answer to me, and the reckoning will be a rough 
 one, I assure you. Now I must be off. Remem 
 ber, Kilby, what I say to you. Good-by, Regina," 
 and turning, he hurriedly left the room. 
 
 Almost to the very door of the house, Francis 
 Ware had brought up the horses. Clifford sprang 
 lightly into the saddle and plunged the spurs into 
 his horse. " We must make up for lost time, 
 Ware," he called out blithely as they galloped 
 rapidly away. 
 
 At his departure Marjorie felt as if she would
 
 MAEJORIE WARE AND REGINA BOWIE 317 
 
 sink to the floor, but at the sight of the other 
 woman standing before her she drew herself up, 
 and a look of anger shone in her eyes. 
 
 " Who are you, where did you come from, and 
 what do you here ? " asked Regina Bowie coldly. 
 
 " I am a nurse in the Union army. My name 
 is Marjorie Ware. I am a sister of Francis Ware, 
 whom I thought dead," she answered bitterly. 
 
 Regina Bowie started with surprise. Before she 
 could speak, Marjorie went on : " And you are 
 Flora Dowd, or Regina somebody. You have 
 taken my brother from me, and it was you who, 
 when a prisoner, induced Major Gordon Clayborne 
 to let you escape." 
 
 " Yes, I am Flora Dowd," replied Regina coolly. 
 " Now you see me, what do you think of me ? " 
 
 " I hate you," replied Marjorie vehemently. 
 " I hate you as I never thought to hate a human 
 being." 
 
 Regina laughed. " You are Gordon Clayborne's 
 sweetheart, I suppose. I thought he must have 
 some such lodestone in the North. Well, you have 
 captured him and I have taken your brother. 
 Honors are even between us, are they not, pretty 
 Mistress Marjorie ? " 
 
 " No, not yet. Not till I get Frank back again," 
 answered Marjorie firmly. 
 
 Regina's only reply was a glance of cool defiance. 
 
 " Do you love him ? " cried Marjorie. 
 
 "Whom? Gordon?" 
 
 " No. My brother, Francis Ware. I know you
 
 318 THE CLAYBORNES 
 
 cannot love Gordon Clayborne or you would never 
 nave injured him." 
 
 " Oh, Gordon and I were fond of each other 
 once," replied Regina with irritating indifference. 
 
 " I do not believe that," answered Marjorie. 
 " I know he does not care for you." 
 
 " Oh, men are all alike. You '11 find that out 
 before you are much older. You have already 
 learned to play upon them somewhat. How easily 
 you won Major Clifford Clayborne over. I quite 
 admired you." 
 
 The words were spoken smilingly, but there was 
 a caustic ring in the voice which rankled in Mar- 
 jorie's breast. 
 
 " Do not endow me with the artifices which are 
 yours by nature and which you use to such perfec 
 tion," she replied. 
 
 The young women glared at each other. They 
 were a few yards apart. Regina Bowie leaned 
 carelessly against the table, flecking her riding- 
 boots with a whip ; perfectly cool, always smiling, 
 but with a glitter in her wondrous dark eyes which 
 boded nothing good to her opponent. Kilby had 
 retired to a corner. He looked at Marjorie, who 
 stood as straight and tall as she could, her mouth 
 firmly set, her bosom heaving with the emotions 
 she endeavored to control. He noted Regina's 
 handsome and more dominant figure, and contin 
 ued to watch them both with deep interest. 
 
 When Marjorie spoke again, it was with a cool 
 ness which equaled that of her formidable rival.
 
 MARJORIE WARE AND REGINA BOWIE 319 
 
 " You do not love my brother. You do not love 
 any one, because you cannot." 
 
 Regina winced. " I may love him for all you 
 can tell," she answered. " He is a right good fel 
 low." 
 
 "You cannot love him," Marjorie laughed bit 
 terly, " or you would not kill him as you are doing. 
 If you did care for him you would send him back 
 to those whom he has deserted." 
 
 " I will never do that," replied Regina hotly. 
 " I want him near me." 
 
 " I did not expect that you would give him up," 
 and again Marjorie laughed in the same bitter 
 tone which irritated the other woman. " And yet 
 you could drive him from you if you chose. You 
 could show him that side of you which would break 
 the spell. With that same consummate art which 
 you use to enslave him, you could send him from 
 you, back to me." 
 
 Regina' s face was drawn with passion as she 
 burst forth: "How do you know what I could 
 do?" 
 
 "Because I can read you," was the quiet an 
 swer. " I can see through your art as if it were 
 an open network." 
 
 " Then you can read that I will not do it," said 
 Regina, recovering her composure. 
 
 " Will nothing induce you ? " 
 
 " Nothing. I have no further time to waste with 
 
 you." 
 
 " Listen for one moment," cried Marjorie has-
 
 320 THE CLAYBORNES 
 
 tily, as Regina Bowie turned away with a shrug. 
 " The time may soon come when you will need 
 assistance. The time may be fast approaching 
 when I could befriend you. If you will only do 
 this for me, if you will only send my brother from 
 you and give him back to me, I will promise to be 
 your friend always. That may mean much more 
 to you than you think at this moment." 
 
 The other woman faced quickly about with a 
 fierce light playing in her eyes. " I do not want 
 your friendship, and I do not fear your enmity. 
 You thought you could play the spy here. I will 
 teach you a lesson you will not soon forget. I will 
 prevent your doing us any harm. You shall be 
 kept a prisoner. You shall be locked in this 
 house and Kilby's men shall be your custodians." 
 
 There was a look of hatred in the woman's eyes. 
 There was a ring in her voice which told that she 
 was in earnest. Marjorie could not answer. She 
 could not find a word to ask for clemency. She 
 sank overpowered into a chair. Regina turned 
 from her and spoke to Kilby, giving a few brief 
 commands. Then she walked out of the house 
 without giving another look in the direction of her 
 fallen foe. 
 
 Marjorie raised her face imploringly towards 
 Kilby. " You remember the orders of Major Clif 
 ford Clayborne you will obey them will you 
 not ? " she faltered. 
 
 " I reckon I 'd best obey Miss Dowd's orders," 
 he answered doggedly.
 
 MARJORIE WARE AND REGINA BOWIE 321 
 
 With a cry Marjorie covered her face with her 
 hands, and remained silent. 
 
 Kilby went to the door. " You shall be well 
 cared for, miss," he said clumsily. Then the key 
 turned in the lock and she was left alone.
 
 CHAPTER XXIII 
 
 RICHMOND 
 
 CLIFFORD CLAYBORNE and Francis Ware, hav 
 ing ridden in silence for some distance, halted. 
 The major gave an order to the younger man and 
 the pair separated, leaving Clifford Clayborne to 
 ride alone towards Richmond. He had been in the 
 saddle all the day before ; he had not taken one 
 minute's rest that night ; with the exception of the 
 hastily swallowed meal at the house in the woods, 
 he had not tasted food for twenty-four hours, but 
 he knew there was work ahead, and in the early 
 gray of the morning he pressed on towards the 
 city. 
 
 While Lee's army was defending Richmond, the 
 Clayborne troopers had been doing scout duty in 
 the surrounding country. Colonel Joseph Clay- 
 borne, rather than give up his command, had re 
 fused promotion. " I can handle a regiment of 
 horse," he said, " but damme if I care to under 
 take more. Drive at the enemy whenever he 
 conies in sight ; raid him ; harass him ; break his 
 lines of communication ; carry off liis supplies ; 
 play the very old Nick with him generally, that 
 is all I understand of warfare. I leave the plan-
 
 RICHMOND 323 
 
 ning of campaigns and the grand tactics to other 
 heads. I 've ridden with these boys through the 
 war. I 've eaten with 'em and I 've starved 
 with 'em, I Ve marched with 'em and I 've slept 
 by 'em, I 've drilled 'em and I 've sworn at 'em, 
 and damn 'em if God spares my life we '11 fight it 
 out together to the end ; " and so they did fight it 
 out to the end those whose lives were spared ; 
 but the ranks were thin, and the regiment had 
 faded to a skeleton of its former grandeur long 
 before the end was reached. 
 
 Through the darkest days none carried a stouter 
 or lighter heart than Clifford Clayborne. Through 
 storm or sun, through wet or cold or heat, through 
 camp or battle, victory or defeat, that heart never 
 failed. Never once doubting the justice of his cause, 
 never once doubting the wisdom and power of his 
 leader, he pushed on unhesitatingly towards the 
 final goal, which to him meant ultimate triumph. 
 And if at any time the thought of possible defeat 
 crept for a moment into his brain, he knew but 
 one alternative, to " die game." Therefore with 
 the last ditch in sight to all whose eyes were clear, 
 Clifford Clayborne, on this Sunday morning, the 
 second day of April, rode cheerfully back towards 
 Richmond. He knew the town must soon be evac 
 uated, but to him this did not mean surrender. To 
 him the civil government of the Confederacy had 
 long since passed into nothingness. For him the 
 seat of government, the source of power, was in the 
 Army of Northern Virginia the army which had
 
 324 THE CLAYBORNES 
 
 so often carried the banners of the South to vic 
 tory, that had unflinchingly faced disaster, that 
 had been forced back by overwhelming numbers, 
 but which, like some old bear besieged by hunters, 
 had retired without flight, striking down those who 
 came too near in the pursuit, with spirit yet un 
 tamed and courage undismayed. As he rode Clif 
 ford Clay borne sang blithely a fragment from one 
 of his favorite poems : 
 
 " Ours is no sapling, chance-sown by the fountain, 
 
 Blooming at Beltane, in winter to fade ; 
 
 When the whirlwind has stripped every leaf on the mountain, 
 The more shall Clan-Alpine exult in her shade. 
 
 Moored in the rifted rock, 
 
 Proof to the tempest's shock, 
 Firmer he roots him the ruder it blow; 
 
 Menteith and Breadalbane, then, 
 
 Echo his praise again, 
 Roderigh Vich Alpine dhu, ho ! ieroe ! " 
 
 " Firmer he roots him the ruder it blow," cried 
 Clifford. " We will take our stand by his side as 
 long as we have strength to lift a sword. We will 
 echo his praise as long as we have breath to sound 
 a note." 
 
 Was ever a lost cause more nobly fought ! Was 
 ever a lost cause more valiantly lost ! Were ever 
 courage, honor, and treasure more lavishly poured 
 forth than by these brave, unyielding cavaliers 
 who took their stand upon a hopeless ground, and 
 stubbornly fought there to the end ! 
 
 Clifford whistled and sang as he rode along ; 
 he could no more repress his spirit than he could
 
 RICHMOND 325 
 
 * 
 
 keep from breathing, yet he kept a sharp eye on 
 each side and in front. Mounted on his fleet 
 horse he had no need to fear anything behind. 
 The country was full of Northern scouts. Dressed 
 in Confederate gray, they were actively keeping the 
 Union chieftains well informed as to the movements 
 of their enemies. Clifford Clayborne, alert, well 
 mounted, and confident in his knowledge of the 
 surrounding country, feared them not. 
 
 Ah 1 day Clifford rode, stopping in the woods to 
 rest for a spare hour at noon, and to gnaw a 
 chicken bone which he had stored away in his 
 saddle-bag. It was towards a late hour in the 
 afternoon when horse and rider, travel-stained and 
 weary, heard a startling noise coming towards 
 them. Both pricked up their ears and listened. 
 
 Clifford ceased his whistling and sprang from 
 his horse, keen as a young Indian. The sound of 
 men approaching in force had reached his ears. 
 With the bridle over his arm he knelt in the road, 
 his ear to the ground. He raised his head with a 
 puzzled expression. It was not the measured tread 
 of marching columns, but the irregular tramp of 
 many feet ; it was the rattle of wheels, but not 
 the heavy rumble of artillery wagons ; it was the 
 clatter of hoofs, but not the swing of a cavalry 
 regiment. Clifford Clayborne vaulted into the 
 saddle and galloped into the woods for a few hun 
 dred yards, where he dismounted and waited. 
 
 Down the road came a man on horseback. 
 Vehicles of every sort followed in his wake, ex-
 
 326 THE CLAYBORNES 
 
 press carts and farm wagons, barouches and light 
 carriages filled with women and children ; house 
 hold goods and chattels ; all the assets that they 
 had been able to scrape together, all the little 
 patrimony they could save. Richmond had fallen 
 and this was the rout. Clifford leaped again to his 
 saddle and soon reached the man on horseback. 
 He was an aged negro. He bestrode a raw boned 
 steed which even the conscription had overlooked. 
 A handsome roll of Brussels carpet served him 
 for a saddle, while his bridle was a piece of rope. 
 Behind him, drawn by a pair of poor spavined 
 beasts, wheeled a fine carriage holding a woman 
 and two children, while piled deep about them 
 were the few effects that had been hastily gath 
 ered together by a faithful though indiscriminat- 
 ing hand. A handsome mirror and a feather 
 bed, a coal scuttle and an expensive French clock, 
 a little clothing and some family silver amid 
 these relics of past grandeur sat a pale-faced wo 
 man, young and beautiful, surveying the scene 
 with stern features and dry eyes. Her husband 
 had fallen early in the war, one brother was in the 
 hospital, another was with Lee. She had given 
 her heart's nearest and dearest, and seen them 
 swept away. She had given her money for the 
 cause. She had taken the carpets from her floors 
 and made them into coats for the soldiers. She 
 had denied herself the necessities of life that those 
 who fought might have a little more ; and now 
 with a handful of her belongings, with two small
 
 RICHMOND 327 
 
 children, she still faced the world with unconquered 
 spirit. 
 
 " Where are you going, uncle?" inquired Clif 
 ford, drawing his blooded horse up beside the 
 broken-down nag of the old negro. He spoke 
 gayly, but even his light heart felt a pang at the 
 sight before him. 
 
 " Siftin' souf, sar, siftin' souf. I 'se got my 
 folks to tote souf. Marse lef his family in ma 
 care, an' I'se totin' 'em souf for safety." 
 
 Clifford Clayborne rode up to the carriage, and 
 for a moment leaned over the side. The woman 
 was known to him. Many a time in better days 
 had she, as a young girl, danced with him, laughed 
 with him, and listened to his amusing conversation. 
 Now he spoke seriously, but with the same cheer 
 ful ring to his voice. They were only a few words 
 of encouragement, but they came from a heart 
 which no disaster could subdue. The lady looked 
 up into his face and smiled. Clayborne raised his 
 hat gracefully and drew away, passing along the 
 line of fugitives who were " siftin' souf." There 
 were few good horses among them and fewer men. 
 Every horse and man the South could spare were 
 doing service in the war. Clifford shut his teeth 
 together firmly and rode on towards Richmond. 
 
 A thick column of smoke rolled up before him 
 as he went through the city streets. On each side 
 burned warehouses, stores, and residences. Crowds 
 of people filled the streets, wild-eyed with excite 
 ment, a struggling, pushing mass of humanity.
 
 328 THE CLAYBORNES 
 
 Among them all Clifford did not see one face he 
 knew. 
 
 " Are the Yankees in the city ? '' shouted Clif 
 ford to a young man who appeared cooler headed 
 than others around him. 
 
 " Not yet, but they will be in another twelve 
 hours," was the answer. 
 
 " Then who set fire to all this ? " asked Clay- 
 borne, pointing to a tobacco warehouse on his left 
 which sent up dense volumes of thick, stifling 
 smoke. 
 
 " That was done by General Ewell's order. 
 President Davis and his cabinet have gone, and we 
 are under martial law. The order is to leave 
 nothing for the damned Yankees to lay their 
 hands on." 
 
 Clifford smiled at the load of goods the youth 
 was carrying on his shoulders. 
 
 " Have n't you got more clothes than you can 
 comfortably wear ? " he asked jocosely. 
 
 " Not more 'n I can carry, anyway ; go in and 
 help yourself," he replied, jerking his thumb over 
 his shoulder at a store which was being looted. 
 " Everything is free now," and he darted up a side 
 street. 
 
 Clifford rode up the main thoroughfare. Dire 
 confusion reigned supreme. A howling, uncon 
 trolled mob filled every square. Barrels of whiskey, 
 rolled out into the gutter, were broached there and 
 their contents drunk as it ran. Along the river 
 front the sky was lurid with exploding gunboats,
 
 RICHMOND 329 
 
 while bells pealing in disunion added their discord 
 to the pandemonium of noise. 
 
 Clifford Clayborne reached the War Depart 
 ment. The building was almost deserted, but in 
 one of the rooms he found the honorable secre 
 tary of war, tipping back in a chair, his mustache 
 dipped into a glass of whiskey. 
 
 " Hello, Clayborne," was the greeting. " You 've 
 just about time to take a nip and be off if you 
 don't want the Yanks to get you." 
 
 Clifford saluted hurriedly. " Can I have pen 
 and paper for a few minutes, Mr. Breckinridge ? " 
 he asked. 
 
 Breckinridge nodded towards a desk. " Help 
 yourself, my boy. I don't think we '11 use much 
 more of it here. The Yanks are welcome to our 
 official paper." 
 
 " May I ask when President Davis left the city, 
 Mr. Breckinridge?" inquired Clifford Clayborne, 
 writing steadily. 
 
 " This morning, during church," was the reply. 
 " The cabinet has adjourned to Danville," Breck 
 inridge laughed gruffly. " I 'm going to join them 
 there. I stayed here and tried to prevent Ewell 
 from burning up everything, but he 's been raising 
 more hell than all the Yankee shells ; " and the 
 secretary of war of the Southern Confederacy 
 grimly drank his whiskey. Clifford handed a 
 paper yet wet from his pen to the war secretary. 
 
 " There 's a report, Secretary Breckinridge, of 
 an interview with one of our best scouts. It con-
 
 330 THE CLAYBORNES 
 
 tains some information of moment and will be of 
 interest to the President. I shall take one copy 
 of it to General Lee." 
 
 Breckinridge stuffed the paper into his pocket 
 in silence. 
 
 " And now as there is nothing more for me to 
 do here I may as well be off," exclaimed Clifford, 
 rising up as abruptly as he had come in. " Good- 
 day to you, Mr. Secretary. Have you any mes 
 sage to send to General Lee ? " he added, pausing 
 on the threshold. 
 
 The secretary of war stopped with a plug of 
 tobacco in his hand on the way to his mouth. 
 " Damn me, Clayborne, if I have anything to say. 
 If there is anything to be done I am sure Lee will 
 do it ; as for me, like Othello, my occupation is no 
 more," and Clifford Clayborne left the war secre 
 tary chewing the cud of bitter reflection. 
 
 " The Yankees will be in possession of the city 
 within twelve hours, perhaps before," mused Clif 
 ford to himself. " My horse is beaten out and I 
 am half dead. 1 '11 stable the poor beast and take 
 a few hours' sleep myself. Come what may, I '11 
 be fresher to meet it." Speaking thus he went 
 quietly off to the Clayborne homestead. 
 
 The stables which had once contained long 
 rows of horses were empty and desolate. Clifford 
 turned his charger into one of the box-stalls, and 
 scraping together a little grain, fed and watered 
 the handsome brute. " You 've got your work cut 
 out for you, my beauty," said Clifford, putting his
 
 RICHMOND 331 
 
 hand affectionately on the animal's neck, " and you 
 shall have the best there is as long as it holds 
 out." 
 
 As if in answer the horse poked his soft nose 
 under the master's arm. Clifford stroked it. " I 
 know you will, Dixie ; you '11 do your best with us 
 all." 
 
 Clifford's spurs clanked loudly through the halls 
 of the family mansion. He had been home a 
 number of times since the beginning of the war, 
 and each time found the house awaiting him just 
 as he had left it. No one in Richmond would 
 have put a hand upon any of Colonel Joseph Clay- 
 borne's belongings. Clifford looked about him at 
 each familiar piece of furniture. " In another 
 twenty-four hours there won't be a stick of this 
 which we can call ours," he mattered ; and throw 
 ing himself down upon the bed in his own room he 
 fell into a deep sleep. 
 
 It was nearly morning when he awoke. The 
 faint tinge of red was appearing in the eastern sky. 
 Clifford opened his eyes and watched it sleepily. 
 He felt that he could slumber on indefinitely ; 
 then rousing himself with an effort, he sprang from 
 the bed, and plunging his face into cool water was 
 refreshed and wide awake on the instant. There 
 was not a morsel of food in the house, but he still 
 had a bit of bread in his saddle-bag. This he ate 
 hastily, in cheerful ignorance as to whence the 
 next meal was to come. Why should he worry 
 about food and sleep ? Perhaps before the day was
 
 332 THE CLAYBORNES 
 
 over he would be lying with many others, beyond 
 the need of human nourishment and rest. Never 
 theless, he carefully stuffed into his saddle-bag 
 what grain he could for his beast. 
 
 Time pressed unless he wished to spend the 
 remainder of the days of war as a prisoner ; and 
 although Clifford Clayborne had no intention of 
 doing this, he again went into the house. Re 
 turning with a box full of the family silver, he 
 buried it in the orchard under a budding fruit-tree. 
 " Better a little than nothing out of a wreck," 
 he said to himself as he filled in the dirt, " and a 
 little may mean a good deal in the days to come." 
 Marking the spot with his eye, he sprang into 
 the saddle and was away and out of the city to 
 rejoin Lee's army. 
 
 With the dawn of day forty United States 
 troopers galloped in and took possession of a city 
 which had defied an army. Grant did not stop 
 to examine the empty shell, but pressed after the 
 Army of Northern Virginia. The great hunt was 
 still on, and the quarry slipping away. 
 
 Leaving the south road, Clifford Clayborne 
 struck out to the west. Both horse and man were 
 as fresh as the spring morning. Clifford knew 
 that the surrounding country was full of Federal 
 troopers ; at any moment a detachment of Sher 
 idan's men might come riding along the road. But 
 he knew every inch of the ground. He was fa 
 miliar with every highway and byway for miles 
 around. He had small fear of capture. He left
 
 RICHMOND 333 
 
 the main road and took a lane through the woods. 
 It was little traveled and was overgrown with 
 grass and weeds. He allowed his horse to drop 
 into a walk, catching here and there a mouthful of 
 the tender branches of young trees on either side 
 of the lane. Clifford, himself drawing in deep 
 draughts of the fragrant air, gave a rapid mental 
 survey of his plans. He had in his possession in 
 formation which could only be of value if delivered 
 immediately into the hands of the commander-in- 
 chief. He regretted the delay occasioned by his 
 return to Richmond ; he begrudged the hours spent 
 in sleep. They had been imperative, however, for 
 both himself and Dixie. Without rest they would 
 have been powerless. Now they were better able to 
 cope with the difficulties before them. A few hours 
 more in the saddle and his present charge would be 
 performed. Then for further duties. No exertion 
 would be too great, no danger would appall him. 
 
 " Halt ! " cried a sharp voice. 
 
 From behind the trees on his right stepped three 
 men dressed in Federal blue, their muskets cover 
 ing Clifford Clayborne's breast. Quick as a flash 
 Clifford rose in the saddle. 
 
 " Throw down your arms and surrender ! " he 
 cried with authority. 
 
 His audacity caused them to hesitate. The 
 young Southerner wheeled his horse, and with one 
 dash of the spurs sent him flying off into the 
 woods. A sharp volley followed him, the bullets 
 singing about his ears and pattering through the
 
 334 THE CLAYBORNES 
 
 leaves. Clifford waved his hat tantalizingly and 
 disappeared through the trees, Dixie running like 
 a deer when it hears the baying of the hounds. 
 
 " We must not be caught napping again, old 
 boy," exclaimed Clifford, when once out of range. 
 " It would be a damned shame to escape being 
 killed in battle and then to be shot like a rat in 
 a trap." 
 
 With renewed caution Clifford continued on his 
 way. He avoided all roads and beaten tracks, and 
 like an Indian on the trail made his way warily 
 through the woods. More than once, peering 
 through the trees to the highway, he saw long lines 
 of marching blue. More than once he heard the 
 clatter of hoofs with the jingle of sabre and spur. 
 A general of brigade passed so near that Clifford 
 could have dropped him with a shot from his re 
 volver. It was a tempting, shining mark ; but 
 although scouring the woods like an Indian, Clay- 
 boriie did not fight like one. The general officer 
 passed safely by. Clifford waited until the entire 
 brigade had marched on, then slipping across the 
 road, he and Dixie cut merrily through the woods, 
 and soon, passing the enemy, preceded them by 
 many a mile. Thus he rejoined Lee's army in 
 safety, delivered his papers, embraced his father, 
 and supping on a biscuit and a few handfuls of 
 parched corn, was soon sleeping peacefully on the 
 ground among his own battle-worn troopers, with 
 as clear a conscience and as sound a body as any 
 soldier who ever bore arms.
 
 CHAPTER XXIV 
 
 AT THE STONE BRIDGE 
 
 THERE was work for the Clayborne troop to do. 
 " The cavalry is the eye of an army ; " and the 
 Army of Northern Virginia, hemmed in on every 
 side, with the coil being drawn closer and tighter 
 every moment, had double use for all its eyes. 
 Before daylight boots and saddles sounded and the 
 men were in motion. Clifford, who had washed his 
 face in a muddy pool, had not yet broken his fast 
 because there was nothing more to eat. So he rode 
 with his battalion ; like a true soldier of fortune 
 dismissing all thought of breakfast and waiting for 
 an opportunity to dine. This came to him sooner 
 than he had dared hope. A young wild turkey 
 rose with a cry from its cover in the woods, and 
 sailing over their heads swept out in plain view 
 over an adjoining field. Quick as thought Clifford 
 snatched the carbine from a trooper's hand and 
 shot the bird on the wing. The creature, wounded, 
 fell to the ground and trailed across the fields in 
 an attempt to escape. A touch of the spurs, and 
 Dixie cleared the fence with a bound. Off across 
 the ploughed ground rode Clifford in pursuit of his 
 meal, while the men encouraged him with cheers
 
 336 THE CLAYBORNES 
 
 and laughter. The race was uneven ; the man 
 overtook the hunted bird. Leaning low in the sad 
 dle he caught it up from the ground, and with a 
 twist of the neck put the poor creature out of pain 
 and secured his own dinner, which he brought tri 
 umphantly back at his saddle-bow. 
 
 Thus did the Clayborne troopers live. When 
 they got food they ate, and when they lacked it 
 they went without. It was much simpler to travel 
 unhampered by either base of supplies or commis 
 sary department ; and if the method had its dis 
 advantages, the men made a virtue of necessity and 
 fed or starved as fortune decreed. 
 
 Night found the Clayborne troopers still in the 
 saddle. The day had not been uneventful. They 
 had captured a wagon train of provisions. They 
 had taken a few score of prisoners ; from the 
 former they replenished their empty haversacks ; 
 from the latter they extracted what information 
 they could as to the movements of the enemy. 
 There was a jubilant air about these prisoners, 
 an augury of victory which caused Colonel Joe 
 to exercise a quality for which he was not usually 
 noted, caution. He felt convinced that this 
 handful of men were the outriders of a larger 
 force, for in spite of having fallen into a snare 
 they maintained the assurance of victors. 
 
 Colonel Clayborne fed his men heartily, and 
 made preparations for the night with unusual care. 
 He put out a double line of pickets, sent out scouts 
 on every side, and gave orders that every man
 
 AT THE STONE BRIDGE 337 
 
 should sleep with his horse tethered to his arm. 
 At the first warning note the Clayborne troop 
 must be ready for action. 
 
 Clifford Clayborne noticed with interest that his 
 riding within the past forty-eight hours had been 
 in a circuit ; he now saw that the troop was within 
 a mile of the " cross-roads." He at once dispatched 
 scouts to watch this point, and report whether the 
 enemy was approaching by any of the bisecting 
 roads. More familiar with the region than any 
 man in the regiment, Clifford had been intrusted 
 with the selection of the site for bivouac, and he 
 chose a spot admirably guarded against surprises. 
 It was in a wooded ravine through which ran 
 a brawling stream swollen with the spring rains. 
 Directly in front of them the road traversed an 
 old stone bridge. No force could approach them 
 without first crossing this narrow way. The noise 
 of the rushing stream drowned all ordinary sounds, 
 but the many quick-eared, keen-eyed men sent out 
 on every side would be able to sound the alarm 
 long before any danger could come near. 
 
 Colonel Joseph Clayborne and his son, rendered 
 delightfully comfortable and warm inside by a gen 
 erous supply of the enemy's bacon and coffee, sat 
 smoking their pipes in quiet companionship. 
 
 This family communion had lasted but a short 
 time when a rider appeared through the darkness 
 over the bridge. He was closely followed by an 
 other. These men reported hastily to their colonel. 
 Quickly casting aside their pipes and their ease,
 
 338 THE CLAYBORNES 
 
 the Clayborne troopers sprang to the saddle, and 
 at an order from their chief waited in the shadow 
 of the ravine. Fast came the scouts with the re 
 port that the enemy was approaching in force, pre 
 ceded by a detachment of mounted men. Colonel 
 Clayborne drew his men up across the road before 
 the bridge and waited. There were only five hun 
 dred of them, but they were in the possession of a 
 strategic point. 
 
 " Boys," said the colonel, " the Yankees are ap 
 proaching in force. We 've got a good point of 
 defense, and we must hold them in check for a 
 while. They '11 think all hell has broken loose 
 when they try to cross this bridge." 
 
 No other course than that of fighting entered 
 the head of the old colonel. He dispatched a man 
 to his conimander-in-chief, informing him as to 
 what was about to take place, and then waited 
 calmly. Another scout brought in word that the 
 approaching men numbered one thousand, and that 
 they were leading the main column by a good bit. 
 Clayborne smiled grimly. " The careless cusses ! 
 so much the better for us," was all he said. 
 
 The colonel was right. " All hell " did break 
 loose in the canon when the Union force set foot 
 upon the bridge. 
 
 With the " rebel yell " the Clayborne troop 
 dashed forward. In the dim light it was impos 
 sible for the Federals to tell the size of the foe 
 which had attacked them so suddenly, but they 
 were fresh from recent success. The rebel yell
 
 AT THE STONE BRIDGE 339 
 
 was answered by the Union cheer, and a close hand 
 to hand fight ensued. Only a small portion of the 
 men on either side could be engaged. These fought 
 fiercely for the possession of the bridge. 
 
 At such a time as this Colonel Clayborne was a 
 leader who would rush in where the blows were 
 thickest. He would have been knocked on the 
 head a dozen times in the course of his career 
 had not a bodyguard of devoted followers always 
 made it their duty to protect him, and sometimes 
 drag him bodily to the rear. Now the old fellow, 
 swearing like the trooper he was, charged into the 
 thickest of the skirmish, and laid about him like 
 a blacksmith sweating at his anvil. The Union 
 men by sheer force of numbers carried the bridge, 
 to find themselves confronted by the rest of the 
 Confederate force. The melee became general, 
 and with odds at two to one the Clayborne horse 
 were slowly forced backward. 
 
 Clifford Clayborne, mounted upon his finest 
 horse, seemed to be an especial mark for the 
 Union riders. Two men had forced him a hun 
 dred yards along the bank of the stream, and 
 were on the point of closing in upon him when the 
 horse of one of them slipped and threw his rider. 
 With a yell, Clifford rode at his remaining adver 
 sary. With an answering shout the Union offi 
 cer met his attack halfway. The two men were 
 equally matched. The Federal was the larger, 
 Clifford was the better mounted. Back and forth 
 along the bank of the stream they struggled, fen-
 
 340 THE CLAYBORNES 
 
 cing more by the sense of touch than sight in the 
 dim light of evening. Both were superb horse 
 men, and their spirited animals wheeled and circled 
 at the touch of the spur and bridle, sometimes in 
 dire peril of falling over the bank into the water. 
 
 It was a fight to the end between these two, now 
 isolated from the combat going on a little distance 
 beyond. Twice Clifford's sword touched his ad 
 versary slightly, while he himself was unscathed. 
 Still the Union man struck back vigorously until 
 his sword broke at the hilt. With a cry of exulta 
 tion Clifford raised his own sword to strike again. 
 Before it could descend to do its final work his 
 wrist was caught in the grasp of the other's right. 
 There was a twist, and Clifford's own weapon was 
 thrown from his hand. Unarmed, the two men 
 grappled with each other in fury. A sudden 
 plunge of his horse, and the Union man was thrown 
 from the saddle, dragging Clifford with him. 
 
 Down the bank the two struggling human be 
 ings rolled into the swiftly flowing water. There 
 Clifford shook himself free from the grasp of his 
 antagonist, and rising to the surface struck out to 
 regain the shore. The current was swift, and had 
 instantly whirled the two men out into the middle 
 of the stream. Clifford was uninjured, and a 
 strong swimmer he succeeded in reaching the shore 
 with a few strokes. The bank was steep, but 
 catching at an overhanging root he held on firmly 
 and looked over his shoulder to see what had be 
 come of his enemv. He saw the man rise to the
 
 AT THE STONE BRIDGE 341 
 
 surface, and strike out for the shore. Then sud 
 denly he went under. Coming to the surface, he 
 stretched out his arms appealingly with a cry, and 
 sank again. 
 
 The water had cooled Clifford Clayborne's 
 blood. He had made his fight and won. With 
 out a thought he plunged back under the flood and 
 caught at the drowning man. The latter, think 
 ing his enemy had come to complete his work, 
 struggled feebly. Clifford swam with him towards 
 the shore. The burden was heavy and the current 
 swift. For some moments it looked as if both men 
 would be drowned. Clifford, with his hand once 
 firmly fastened to his enemy's collar, would not let 
 go his hold. Nearly spent, he reached the shore, 
 and summoning all his remaining strength clam 
 bered up, dragging the Union cavalry man after 
 him. " You are too good a fighter to drown like 
 a blind pup," exclaimed Clifford as soon as he 
 could draw breath, and he felt for his flask. 
 The other lay limp and helpless on the grass. 
 Clifford lifted the man's head upon his knee; 
 bending close over him he forced the whiskey flask 
 between the cold lips, and saw it was his brother 
 Gordon. There are some emotions too deep for 
 words. Clifford made no sound. He quietly 
 forced the liquor down Gordon's throat, then 
 waited painfully. The seconds passed. Gordon 
 stirred, opened his eyes. Without speaking Clif 
 ford gave his brother a few more drops of whiskey. 
 Gordon now sat up and looked wildly around.
 
 342 THE CLAYBORNES 
 
 " Do you know who I am, Gordon ? " said Clif 
 ford, his voice trembling. 
 
 " Yes," replied the other simply, " you are my 
 brother Clifford." 
 
 " God knows I did not mean it, old fellow. God 
 knows we were both in ignorance, but, old man, 
 you '11 forgive me." 
 
 " I will, Clifford : help me up. I 'm stiff and 
 cold." 
 
 Clifford lifted his brother to his feet. Gordon 
 steadied himself on Clifford's shoulder, looked 
 about him, and regaining possession of all his fac 
 ulties said calmly, " It was a close call, Clifford." 
 
 Clifford Clayborne caught his brother in his 
 arms, while he sobbed out, " Gordon, old man, I 
 never thought to hug a damned Yankee soldier, 
 but damn you, Gordon, I 'm glad I did not kill 
 
 you." 
 
 The battle at the bridge was over. The Clay- 
 borne troopers had been forced to yield to supe 
 rior numbers. They had been driven back, fighting 
 valiantly. Nothing remained but the dead and 
 wounded. Clifford's horse, trained to answer the 
 call of his master, was quietly cropping the grass 
 near at hand. Gordon's mount had disappeared, 
 but there were several riderless steeds straying in 
 the vicinity. 
 
 " Can you ride, Gordon ? " asked Clifford ? 
 
 " I reckon I 'm able to go a little distance, Clif 
 ford." 
 
 " Then you shall come with me."
 
 AT THE STONE BRIDGE 343 
 
 " As a prisoner of war? " inquired Gordon. 
 
 " No," was the reply. " You were as good as 
 dead when I fished you up from the river. You 
 can go wherever you will." 
 
 " I reckon I 'm laid up for repairs for a day or 
 so, Clifford." 
 
 Clifford looked anxiously into his brother's face. 
 " Are you much hurt ? Tell me, old fellow, 
 you '11 pull through all right." 
 
 " I will be all right shortly, Clifford. It 's only 
 a little blood spilt and a lot of water swallowed." 
 
 Again Clifford hesitated. " Gordon," he said 
 earnestly, "our side is sore pressed. We're in 
 desperate straits and every man is needed. I 've 
 got to be in at the death." 
 
 " All right, old man, go but I shall find you 
 again, shall I not, Clifford ? " 
 
 " I shall be with the Army of Northern Virginia, 
 under Lee. Wherever that is you will find me, 
 if I 'm above ground." 
 
 " God grant that you will be kept above ground 
 for many years," said Gordon earnestly, while he 
 pressed his brother's hand with affection. 
 
 " Gordon," said Clifford warmly, " you need 
 rest and shelter at least until morning. Will you 
 do as I tell you ? " 
 
 I will, Clifford." 
 
 "A mile beyond the bridge are some cross 
 roads." 
 
 Gordon nodded. " I recollect." 
 
 " A few hundred yards back from the road
 
 344 THE CLAYBORNES 
 
 stands an old house. You can find shelter there. 
 If it should fall into the hands of the Federals you 
 will be safe, and if it is occupied, our people " 
 
 " I shall be taken prisoner," interrupted Gor 
 don with a laugh. 
 
 " No. You 've taken me prisoner, and I Ve 
 captured you, Gordon, so we'll exchange. Can 
 you find the house ? " 
 
 " Yes, my boy. Good-by until we meet 
 again ; " and the two men, riding in opposite 
 directions, disappeared into the night.
 
 CHAPTER XXV 
 
 THE TENANTS OF THE CROSS-ROADS 
 
 KILBY had great admiration for Regina Bowie ; 
 he, had also a wholesome respect for Clifford 
 Clayborne; besides this he had rather a kind 
 heart. He obeyed Regina, and held Marjorie a 
 prisoner ; he remembered Major Clayborne's part 
 ing injunction, and treated her with respect; he 
 followed the natural promptings of his nature, and 
 tried to make the imprisonment as easy for the 
 captive as possible. 
 
 On the lower floor of the house, on the left of 
 the hallway, were three rooms. The first contained 
 a few chairs and a table ; otherwise the room was 
 bare. The second room was still more sparsely 
 furnished. A pile of army blankets rolled up in 
 the corner and two or three saddles on the floor 
 indicated that here the scouts slept stretched upon 
 the floor, their feet in their boots and their heads 
 on their saddles. Beyond this was a large chamber 
 used as a storeroom and kitchen. The room was 
 full of food supplies and munitions of war, from 
 knives and rifles to bits and bridles and other 
 articles of horses' gear. Kilby had given the 
 captive the liberty of these three rooms, and then
 
 346 THE CLAYBORNES 
 
 he and his debauched companion, Galloway, had 
 withdrawn to another part of the house. The 
 " drunkard " had slept off his debauch and come 
 out of it blear-eyed and bad-tempered. At Kilby's 
 order he had brought in some water from the well. 
 He obeyed the order surlily, then he walked into 
 the room where Marjorie was seated spiritless 
 before the dying embers of the fire. He stood 
 before her. Although sober at the present mo 
 ment, he was more unpleasant to the eye in the 
 glare of day than he was when drunk by candle 
 light. His red frouzy hair and beard, his blood 
 shot eye, and his purple face made him look like 
 a hideous red monster. He thrust his huge face 
 down to hers ; she drew back with a shudder. 
 
 Kilby entered. " Galloway," he said sharply, 
 " have I got to fight you again ? Remember my 
 orders are to be obeyed. Come with me now." 
 The Irishman growled an inaudible reply. The 
 two men went out together, and Marjorie Ware 
 was alone. She had not been left alone for many 
 minutes when she roused herself with the spirit of 
 determination which was her father's and his an 
 cestors before him. She examined carefully every 
 possible avenue of escape. The windows had all 
 been closed by heavy shutters securely nailed. 
 The outside door leading from the kitchen was 
 locked. The prospect was dispiriting. She real 
 ized the importance of retaining her self-command 
 and keeping up her courage, but the situation was 
 almost unbearable. At times she felt as if she
 
 THE TENANTS OF THE CROSS-ROADS 347 
 
 must give vent to her feelings and cry out ; but 
 the fear that such an outburst would bring in 
 the red monster Galloway always deterred her. 
 Thus the hours dragged by, in solitude and in 
 creasing anxiety. Finally, after an interminable 
 time, she could not tell whether twenty-four or 
 twice that number of hours had passed, she heard 
 the tramp of marching feet. For more than an 
 hour the sound lasted. She could not tell whether 
 it came from friend or foe, but somehow it gave 
 her courage. 
 
 In the silence that followed she became possessed 
 of the feeling that she was entirely alone in the 
 house ; there was that intense stillness which is 
 almost audible. She could hear a cricket chirping 
 in another room, she could hear boards crack in 
 a remote corner of the building; but there was 
 no sound of footsteps, no sound of human voices. 
 She resolved to find out if possible whether the 
 two men had gone away. Going into the kitchen, 
 she examined the outside door. It was of pine, but 
 of double thickness and braced with iron. There 
 were a number of guns in a corner ; one of these 
 she took, and using the butt as a sledge, rained 
 blows upon the panel of the door. The noise re 
 verberated through the house. She made a num 
 ber of large dents in the wood, but the stock of 
 the gun broke, and she could not make any serious 
 impression on the door. The house was as silent 
 as ever. 
 
 Marjorie now felt sure that her captors had
 
 348 THE CLAYBORNES 
 
 left her for the time being to her own devices. 
 Although there was a sense of utter loneliness in 
 her situation, the thought that the blear-eyed Gal 
 loway was not under the same roof gave her a feel 
 ing of relief. She knew that she must not give 
 way to despair. She thought of her father, she 
 thought of the Union troops who were doubtless at 
 that very moment closing in upon the enemy, and 
 she felt sure that there was a power which would 
 carry her through this present ordeal and bring 
 her safely back to her own friends and kindred. 
 Kilby and Galloway, from a safe retreat among 
 the trees, had observed the passing troops. They 
 were Yankee soldiers. When the last blue coat 
 had filed by, the two men, going farther back to 
 the spot in the woods where their horses were con 
 cealed, had ridden away, leaving the house behind 
 the trees entirely unwatched. 
 
 Marjorie Ware did not try to sleep, but walked 
 back and forth from room to room like a caged 
 animal, trying to hit upon some plan of escape. 
 She had eaten nothing during aR this time, and 
 though fear and excitement had driven away all 
 appetite she made up her mind to take some food 
 to keep up her strength. There were corn meal, 
 water, and materials for a fire right at hand. She 
 made some cakes, which to her surprise tasted 
 good. She felt her strength revive. In order to 
 occupy herself, more than from any other reason, 
 she began to search among the boxes and barrels. 
 Among these she discovered a small keg of gun-
 
 THE TENANTS OF THE CROSS-ROADS 349 
 
 powder. Instantly a plan of action suggested 
 itself. She knocked in the head of the keg, 
 and took out a supply of the explosive. She did 
 not know how much would be required, so she 
 guessed at it. Then she selected from among the 
 few kitchen utensils an iron kettle. She poured 
 the gunpowder into the receptacle, and placed it 
 against the door. With great care she manufac 
 tured a thin fuse out of paper and a little gun 
 powder. She had no idea how long the fuse would 
 burn ; it was all a matter of guesswork. This 
 fuse she ran down the nozzle of the pot and out 
 on to the floor. 
 
 When all was prepared she contemplated the 
 bomb, which she had thus improvised, with great 
 curiosity and some alarm. She wondered what the 
 result would be if she should touch off the fuse 
 and retire precipitately into the farthest room. 
 Would the door be blown out ? or would the entire 
 house be wrecked? This was a problem of dyna 
 mics which could only be solved by experiment. 
 It was a desperate expedient, but her situation was 
 desperate. To her anything seemed preferable 
 than to remain longer a prisoner, with the thought 
 of the return of the red monster. Right at hand 
 was the fire. One touch of a burning brand to 
 the fuse, and her problem would be solved ; and 
 yet she hesitated. She took a piece of pine wood 
 in her hand and ignited one end of it, stood in the 
 middle of the room with the shell at her feet, and 
 still she hesitated.
 
 350 THE CLAYBORNES 
 
 The latch of the door moved. Some one had 
 his hand upon it on the outside. Her heart stood 
 still with fear. Could it be Kilby with his com 
 panion, the red monster? Rather than have him 
 in the room with her again, rather than see his 
 face again close to hers, she would put the fire to 
 the powder, though she and all of them might be 
 killed. What if she should do it now while they 
 were unsuspectingly opening the door ? She could 
 not bring herself to do it yet ; but waited, 
 breathless, her heart beating wildly, her eyes burn 
 ing like the fire in her hand. She could not find 
 voice to cry out, but stood in silence, waiting. The 
 person outside made an ineffectual effort to push 
 open the door, then turned away, and Marjorie 
 heard his tread going along the side of the house 
 to the front, where he began fumbling at the shut 
 ters. A few heavy blows rained upon them, a 
 shutter was thrown to the ground, the window flew 
 open, and the man sprang quickly into the front 
 room. 
 
 Then Marjorie found her voice and cried aloud: 
 " Stop where you are, for if you enter this room it 
 will be to your death ! " The footsteps did not 
 halt, but came hastily nearer. " Stop, I command 
 you, if you wish to live ! " she cried hysterically, 
 as a large figure came to the doorway. 
 
 The stranger stood gazing at her in amazement. 
 He was not the red monster nor Jake Kilby. 
 
 She threw the burning wood from her as he pro 
 nounced her name, " Marjorie Ware," and came
 
 THE TENANTS OP THE CROSS-ROADS 351 
 
 quickly to her ; and then she was clinging to his 
 arm. 
 
 She could have wept for joy at the sight of him. 
 The dangers through which she had passed, the 
 fears which had assailed her, had left her weaker 
 than she knew. " Mr. Clayborne," she cried, " what 
 good angel directed you here? Oh, I have been 
 so terribly frightened ; I have endured so much ! 
 Take me away with you ; take me away ! " There 
 was a sob in her voice as she spoke, and she clung 
 closer to him, not noticing that his shirt was stiff 
 with blood. He winced a little with the pain, but 
 said in a soft, reassuring voice, " Don't be afraid, 
 little girl, I '11 take you away. You 're quite safe 
 now." 
 
 " You 're wounded, Mr. Clayborne ! " she cried 
 suddenly, in alarm. " Oh, you 're wounded and 
 in pain ! " 
 
 " Wounded, yes, very slightly, but not in pain 
 now," he replied. 
 
 " Come quickly, and let me dress your hurt," 
 she said in a tone of anxiety, quite forgetting all 
 her fears. 
 
 "It is merely a slight cut ; it amounts to no 
 thing. Tell me " he began. 
 
 " Don't question me now," she said, between 
 tears and laughter ; " I am the nurse, and must 
 wash and dress your wound. Oh, who gave it to 
 you ? Some villain of a rebel of course." 
 
 " Oh, it is not of great consequence ; it is really 
 much slighter than it appears," he repeated, trying
 
 352 THE CLAYBORNES 
 
 to soothe her. " Tell me about yourself, and ex 
 plain why I find you here." 
 
 " I will tell you, but not now. Oh, I have had 
 such a terrible experience ! I have seen so much ! 
 I know so much more about some things than I did 
 a few days ago ! " She looked into his face. " Are 
 you suffering very much, poor Mr. Clayborne ? " 
 she asked with deep sympathy. " Oh, I must help 
 you. I am a nurse, and can do it so easily." 
 
 " I would gladly suffer ten times as much for the 
 pleasure of seeing you and of feeling your gentle 
 touch," he replied, yielding to her entreaties, and 
 sitting down while her quick fingers put aside his 
 coat to gently cut away the shirt and put cool 
 water on the wound. 
 
 " Oh, don't talk like that, Mr. Clayborne. Don't 
 pay me compliments now. I can do so little." 
 
 When she had finished dressing his wound, and 
 had brought him some food, which he ate heartily, 
 she came and stood by his side, saying wistfully, 
 " Do you think you will be able to go a little dis 
 tance now, Mr. Clayborne? Before I tell you 
 anything more, before anything else, we must get 
 away from here." 
 
 " Yes, yes," he answered ; " but is it necessary ? 
 I must confess I am pretty well tired out. I came 
 to this place for shelter. There is less danger here 
 than elsewhere, little comrade." 
 
 He spoke to her in the same soft tone he had 
 always used, just as if nothing had ever come 
 between them.
 
 THE TENANTS OF THE CROSS-ROADS 353 
 
 Then she related hurriedly what had hap 
 pened to her in that house. When he tried to 
 interrupt her with exclamations of surprise or with 
 questions, she bade him listen until the end. He 
 sat with flashing eyes and clinched hands. Many 
 things she had to omit for lack of time, but when 
 she ended he had heard enough to set his blood on 
 fire. 
 
 " To think of it ! " he cried, rising to his feet, and 
 pacing the floor in anger. " To treat a woman so ; 
 to treat you so ! And Clifford interfered in your 
 behalf, did he ? Ah, Clifford would never do other 
 wise. And Kegina Bowie ! It was Eegina Bowie 
 who kept you here ? " There was a bitterness in 
 the accent with which he spoke the name, there 
 was a wrathful flash in his eyes which made Mar- 
 jorie almost afraid of him. She had flushed at the 
 sound of the woman's name, but remained silent, 
 looking at Gordon steadily, while everything she 
 had seen and heard in that room a few hours 
 before flashed once more through her brain. 
 
 "And Francis Ware, your brother you say 
 he was here with her," Gordon went on. " Mar- 
 jorie, I tried to keep from you the knowledge of 
 his desertion. I thought you could not bear to 
 know it." 
 
 " Oh, it was so generous of you," she cried, " but 
 useless, quite useless." 
 
 Gordon sat down in the chair. " Little girl," 
 he said seriously, " it 's dark, you are very much 
 fatigued, and so am I. We can't go far from here
 
 354 THE CLAYBORNES 
 
 this night. There 's no more danger for you now. 
 Are you afraid to stay here until morning ? " 
 
 " Not with you. I have no fear now that you 
 are here," she said. 
 
 Gordon brought in some blankets, and made a 
 couch for Marjorie on the floor of the inner cham 
 ber. Then with some nails which he found in the 
 kitchen he repaired the broken shutter, like a care 
 ful general making the place secure. " You can 
 sleep in perfect safety to-night, Marjorie, and to 
 morrow at daylight we will go away." With 
 drawing to the farther room, he wrapped himself 
 in a blanket, and stretching out before the thresh 
 old of the room where Marjorie lay, he fell almost 
 immediately asleep. 
 
 For the first time in two nights Marjorie slept. 
 She was thoroughly exhausted and her slumber 
 was deep and restful. Once or twice she partially 
 awoke, and with a feeling of perfect security 
 turned on her bed of blankets and fell into a 
 dreamless sleep. Gordon, on his part, was spent 
 with fatigue ; he hardly stirred in the spot where 
 he had thrown himself. So during all the night 
 youth slept serenely in the old house ; and thus 
 the morning found them each rolled in the gray 
 blankets, unmindful of discomfort, unconscious of 
 peril. Gordon was the first to awaken. He had 
 been living over in his dreams the fight upon the 
 bridge. He heard again the thunder of horses' 
 hoofs, the shouts of the enemy, as they rode at 
 him in the attack. He thought that he lifted his
 
 THE TENANTS OF THE CROSS-ROADS 355 
 
 sword in defense. He sprang forward and found 
 himself in the middle of the floor, and rubbing his 
 eyes became aware of a terrific hammering on the 
 outer door. He was wide awake upon the instant, 
 and going into the kitchen demanded in a loud 
 tone to know who was there. 
 
 " Open the door ! " replied a gruff voice. 
 
 "Tell me what you want, first," he answered 
 quickly. 
 
 " To get into the house, you fool," was the re 
 joinder. 
 
 Marjorie, who had been awakened by the dis 
 turbance, came and stood at his elbow. " Do not 
 open," she whispered. Gordon turned and noticed 
 that she was trembling. He gave her a reassuring 
 look. 
 
 " Come with me," he whispered, leading her 
 away. 
 
 " What are you going to do ? " she asked in the 
 same manner, following him. 
 
 " I am going upstairs, where I can get a good 
 look at them." 
 
 " We are locked in here in the lower part of the 
 house," she answered. Gordon tried the door lead 
 ing into the hallway. Then drawing his revolver 
 he demolished the lock with a shot, and led the 
 way to the floor above. Throwing open a window, 
 he looked directly down upon four men who were 
 stamping impatiently in the rear of the house. 
 They were all ugly looking specimens, with scowling 
 faces. One of them had a red scar across his face
 
 356 THE CLAYBORNES 
 
 from eye to chin. It was a recent cut, freshly 
 healed, and had almost severed the nose. Mar- 
 jorie peered down upon them under Gordon's 
 elbow. He gently pushed her back from the win 
 dow. The man with the scarred face gazed up in 
 
 surprise. " Where in h did you come from ? " 
 
 he demanded brutally. 
 
 " Never mind that. State your business or get 
 out," answered Gordon with equal brusqueness. 
 
 " Business ! I like that," cried the other fiercely. 
 " Ye damned Yank, surrender ! " and he drew a 
 pistol with a flourish. 
 
 Quick as lightning Gordon drew back, even as 
 the report of the pistol rang out. 
 
 Marjorie gave a cry and sprang forward. " Are 
 you hit ? " she exclaimed in terror. 
 
 " No, little comrade," he replied with a reassur 
 ing smile, while his hand sought the butt of his 
 revolver. 
 
 He had noticed that none of the men wore the 
 Confederate uniform. They all bore the stamp of 
 free-booting guerrillas, with which the country at 
 the closing of the war was overrun. 
 
 " Surrender, dang yer ! " cried the men in con 
 cert. " Surrender," echoed the first spokesman, 
 " or it will go hard with yer ! " 
 
 " One of the men is the red monster. He is 
 the short, stout creature, with one eye and the 
 bloated face," whispered Marjorie. " Do not trust 
 any of them. If Kilby were among them it might 
 be different, but I am terribly afraid of them."
 
 THE TENANTS OF THE CROSS-ROADS 357 
 
 " Do not have the slightest fear, little comrade," 
 said Gordon with a coolness which could not help 
 but inspire confidence. Then speaking aloud he 
 said emphatically, " I am a prisoner of Major 
 Clifford Clayborne of the Clayborne Horse. I 
 am on parole and staying here under his orders. 
 I cannot surrender to you." 
 
 There was silence for a moment ; then the hoarse 
 voice of the red Galloway replied : 
 
 " It 's lyin' ye are ; and as for the young woman, 
 she was left in my keepin'." 
 
 "She is under my protection," answered Gor 
 don. 
 
 " None of that now," croaked the hoarse voice. 
 u She has been in my keepin' for the last two days ; 
 so open the dure, now, or there '11 be foighting." 
 
 " You red dog," shouted Gordon fiercely, " I '11 
 brain the first man who tries to enter here ! " 
 
 " Damn yer, we '11 soon settle both of yer ! " was 
 the savage retort. 
 
 " I '11 give you one minute to go on about your 
 business," cried Gordon. 
 
 The only answer was a fierce pounding below. 
 
 Gordon leaned from the window and shot quickly 
 down among them. The men ran precipitately 
 around the corner of the house. Gordon had not 
 paused to take aim, but one of them carried a bul 
 let in his arm. There was silence for a moment. 
 Then the wounded man cried with an oath, " We '11 
 have yer heart's blood for this ! The blood of 
 both of yez shall pay for this ! "
 
 358 THE CLAYBORNES 
 
 Marjorie looked up at Gordon, but she did not 
 speak. 
 
 His face was fierce with anger. At the sight of 
 her his look softened to one of tenderness. " Don't 
 be afraid," he said in his reassuring tone. 
 
 " I won't," she said, speaking very low. 
 
 " Marjorie," he said, taking her hand in his, 
 " they '11 only get you over my dead body, and I 
 don't think there '11 be much of them left to harm 
 you then." 
 
 For a moment she turned away her head, not 
 trusting herself to speak ; then in a low voice she 
 answered : 
 
 " I shan't be alive then, either ; but before that 
 time comes, if it is to come, I want you to know 
 how much I respect and admire you. I remember 
 what you said to me long ago. Gordon, I want 
 to tell you now that I love you." 
 
 She pressed her head very gently against the 
 sleeve of his coat. With his left hand, the other 
 still holding the loaded revolver, he drew her to 
 him and kissed her for the first time. " Little 
 comrade," he whispered, " don't you worry about 
 anything. There are years of happiness ahead for 
 you and me." 
 
 She did not answer in words, but raised her eyes, 
 and in them he saw that light which only comes to 
 a woman's eyes when she looks at the man she 
 loves.
 
 LITTLE COMRADE . . . DON'T YOU WORRY ABOUT ANYTHING'
 
 CHAPTER XXVI 
 
 FOUR STURDY KNAVES 
 
 THE four men had withdrawn to the shelter of 
 the pine woods. The four had been the shining 
 lights in a band of guerrillas. With Kilby as their 
 captain, they had for years been leading the wild 
 life of irregular warfare. Kilby had held these 
 turbulent spirits in some sort of subjection, and 
 through the force of a strong arm and a ready 
 hand had been able to exact a certain degree of 
 obedience. Kilby was now lying stiff and cold in 
 a ditch with a bullet hole in his heart. His band 
 had been blown to the four winds by Sheridan's 
 cavalry, and when a handful of the most lawless 
 spirits gathered together again, they found them 
 selves without a leader ; and with the end of the 
 war in sight their occupation was no more. They 
 chose a new head, and formed a new band of free 
 lances, whose common enemy was the world at 
 large, whose booty was wherever it could be taken. 
 
 The new leader was a giant ; he with the scar. 
 At a toss of the hat he would have fought against 
 anybody for anything. The scar across his face 
 was not the only mark of conflict which his body 
 bore. He was suspected of having served his ap-
 
 360 THE CLAYBORNES 
 
 prenticeship to arms under a black flag on the 
 open sea. In evidence of this he showed a chest 
 decorated by numerous seams and gashes, and 
 spoke somewhat affectionately of the bullets en 
 cased in his huge carcass. He was chosen leader 
 because of this distinction ; also because he would 
 not follow. 
 
 Two of his fraternity were birds from a Rich 
 mond jail. They had been drafted into the Con 
 federate service, which they had promptly deserted 
 for the laxer discipline and more alluring prospects 
 of guerrilla warfare. Now led by the buccaneer 
 they cheerfully embraced the vocation of highway 
 men, which was no new trade to them, for they had 
 always stood ready to rob anything which promised 
 booty, from a chicken coop to a church altar. 
 
 Kilby's drunken lieutenant Galloway was the 
 last of the four. Marjorie feared this red-headed, 
 red-bearded, red-faced monster more than any of 
 the others ; but although he was more repulsive 
 he was really less formidable, for drink and the 
 devil had laid strong hands upon him and had 
 weakened much of his strength. Red Galloway, 
 knowing that the house near the cross-roads held a 
 quantity of arms, ammunition, and other booty, 
 had suggested to his confreres that it would be 
 wise economy to secure immediate possession of 
 these supplies. His cronies needed little prompt 
 ing on this score, and the congenial quartette set 
 out at once for the rendezvous, to find it occupied 
 by one other besides the young woman whom red
 
 FOUR STURDY KNAVES 361 
 
 Galloway had told them was locked up there for 
 safe-keeping. 
 
 Now that this unexpected tenant had made such 
 a spirited resistance, the four stood ready to par 
 ley with him, to make terms provided they could 
 get access to the spoils ; to make promises if neces 
 sary to gain their end, and to break these pro 
 mises as soon as they got what they wished. 
 
 But Gordon Clayborne knew the men with 
 whom he had to deal. The only terms they could 
 make with him would be to leave him in peace. 
 He would have sooner thought of cutting off both 
 his hands than of surrendering at the call of such 
 rascals. Like all the Claybornes, Gordon had been 
 born into the world with a contempt for fear ; but 
 several years of war had developed a certain amount 
 of caution in his brain. He had Marjorie's safety 
 to look out for at present ; so he improved the lull 
 in hostilities to strengthen his own position. He 
 knew that he could not hold the lower part of 
 the house against the united attack of the four 
 desperadoes, but from the upper story he could 
 command a great advantage. There Marjorie and 
 he took up their positions. They could see the 
 four marauders flitting among the trees which sur 
 rounded the house. The miscreants did not ven 
 ture to attack them openly, the bullet which one 
 of them had received in the arm having taught 
 them caution ; but an occasional pistol-shot crash 
 ing into the room through a window showed that 
 they had no idea of relinquishing their object.
 
 362 THE CLAYBORNES 
 
 With Marjorie's help, Gordon barricaded the win 
 dows with materials brought up from the kitchen, 
 and through a loophole between two sacks of meal 
 watched with comparative safety the movements 
 of the enemy. 
 
 The sun rose high in the heavens, and there was 
 no change in their relative positions. Marjorie 
 went down into the kitchen and cooked some corn- 
 meal and bacon, while Gordon never relaxed his 
 vigilance, feeling sure that his besiegers were not 
 men to wait in patience for any length of time. 
 
 The girl soon returned with some food, which 
 they shared like two soldiers of fortune. Gordon 
 brought up all the chairs and the heavy table, and 
 piled them at the head of the stairs ; this furniture 
 he tied firmly together with a stout piece of rope 
 which was found among the supplies below. It 
 would have to be a fierce and determined attack 
 which could carry their barricade. The ammuni 
 tion and guns among the stores were not forgotten. 
 Marjorie helped to load all the guns, and place 
 them near at hand ready for instant use. 
 
 The day passed ; the afternoon began to wane, 
 and they were still unmolested. Gordon became 
 uneasy. He had expected and hoped that the out 
 laws would attack at once in broad daylight. He 
 did not credit them with enough self-restraint to 
 wait until night, and he was more apprehensive 
 as to the result of an assault under cover of dark 
 ness. He could catch occasional glimpses of one 
 or more of the men lurking among the trees.
 
 FOUR STURDY KNAVES 363 
 
 With chagrin he had seen them lead away his 
 horse which had been picketed in the woods. He 
 had fired upon them through the window, but all 
 to no avail ; he could not draw his besiegers to an 
 assault. With stubborn and sullen patience they 
 hovered in the shadow of the trees like birds of 
 ill-omen, waiting for the darkness. 
 
 As a matter of fact, one reason for their for 
 bearance was the wholesome respect for Clay- 
 borne which his first vigorous reception of them 
 had engendered. He had inflicted a more serious 
 wound upon one of his enemies than he himself 
 knew. This was the red monster, Galloway, whose 
 arm had been so shattered by the bullet as to ren 
 der amputation necessary. This operation had to 
 be performed in a rough way by one of his mates, 
 and the unhappy creature lay groaning upon a pile 
 of boughs, where without proper medical assistance 
 he bade fair to end his earthly career as he had 
 lived, in passion and drink, cursing roundly at his 
 fate, and crying out imprecations against the cause 
 of his present misfortune. With their number 
 thus reduced, the remaining three, ordinarily as 
 desperate men as ever embarked in an unlawful 
 calling, curbed their impatience from sheer neces 
 sity, waiting restlessly for nightfall, their passions 
 heated and their rage augmented by whiskey. 
 
 Gordon saw the shadows lengthen with more 
 anxiety than he showed to Marjorie. He tried to 
 interest her and divert her mind from any thought 
 of danger. Although he never for a moment re-
 
 364 THE CLAYBORNES 
 
 laxed the vigilance of his lookout, he found time 
 to tell many of the things which had happened 
 since they had last parted. It was not a difficult 
 matter to interest Marjorie, for she loved him. 
 For months she had struggled to repress her love, 
 she had fought against it with all her might ; but 
 it had proved too strong for her, and now that all 
 her doubts of him had been dispelled, now that 
 she had been brought to tell him of her love, she 
 trusted him implicitly. To hear the sound of his 
 voice, to feel his presence near, created an intoxi 
 cation of excitement which caused her to forget 
 past terrors, to ignore the present danger. For he 
 was there to defend her, with him by her side she 
 could feel no fear. 
 
 It was no time for love-making with a desperate 
 enemy in ambush near at hand. It was no time 
 for the exchange of vows of eternal affection and 
 the making of plans for life-long happiness, when 
 all about them stalked relentless war, and human 
 life was as uncertain as the shifting sand. The 
 pair spoke no word of love, but love can make 
 itself known in a hundred ways without the 
 spoken word. Gordon could not talk to her upon 
 any subject without telling her by the accent of his 
 voice that he loved her. Marjorie could riot look 
 into his face without her eyes betraying that she 
 adored him. 
 
 As night settled down, Gordon's watchfulness 
 increased. He walked from one window to an 
 other, peering cautiously out on every side, in his
 
 FOUR STURDY KNAVES 365 
 
 endeavor to see and frustrate the first attempt at 
 an attack. The moon had risen early, and as her 
 beams sifted through the swaying pines, throwing 
 fantastic shadows on the house, Gordon thought 
 that he could discern moving figures of men. 
 Once or twice he fired a shot from his revolver, 
 but this brought forth no response. He had 
 merely fired at a shadow in the night. Could it 
 be possible, he argued, that the ruffians had given 
 up the siege as hopeless and gone away, leaving 
 him to combat shadows ? 
 
 As if in answer to this thought there came a 
 sudden rush of feet and a crash against one of the 
 doors. Gordon fired repeatedly, but without effect. 
 With an answering yell of defiance his assailants 
 broke into the house. What Gordon had feared 
 had happened. Under cover of the night they had 
 forced a sudden entrance. 
 
 Marjorie looked up into Gordon's face. " There 
 is but one stairway," he whispered. " We can 
 hold that against twice their number. Can you 
 shoot, Marjorie ? " 
 
 In reply she took up the lightest of the rifles 
 and knelt beside him at the barricade. Replaced 
 a revolver in her hand. " You can handle this 
 with greater ease," he said. " Now take up your 
 place behind me, and if I give the word shoot 
 under my arm. Mind, Marjorie, shoot low ; and 
 only when I tell you." 
 
 Heavy heels were heard in the room below, and 
 a voice called out, " Now will yer surrender?"
 
 366 THE CLAYBORNES 
 
 " Come up and take us," was the terse reply. 
 
 " Not such fools as that. We have a better 
 way." 
 
 " Take it then," was the laconic response. 
 
 " We will that." There was a few minutes' 
 hurried consultation below ; then spoke the leader. 
 " There 's a keg of powder here. We '11 give yer 
 thirty minutes to come down, else ye '11 go up 
 higher still." 
 
 " Will they do it ?" whispered Marjorie, laying 
 a hand on Gordon's sleeve. The expression on his 
 face answered her. 
 
 " I am not afraid, for we shall be together, 
 Gordon," she whispered. 
 
 For a moment his arm was about her while he 
 spoke low in her ear. 
 
 " Well, what have you to say ? " was the impa 
 tient cry from below. 
 
 " If you do us the slightest injury every one of 
 you shall be hanged." 
 
 " Yes, if we 're caught, but we have no fear of 
 that. Say, will you come down ? " 
 
 "No!" 
 
 " Then up yer go in thirty minutes," and the 
 parley closed with an oath. 
 
 Gordon Clay borne knew that he had to deal 
 with desperate men who, with their passions once 
 aroused, would stop at nothing. He could hear 
 the tramp of their feet as they worked away, re 
 moving from the house all the materials which 
 they wished to save. With a few whispered words
 
 FOUR STURDY KNAVES 367 
 
 in Marjorie's ear, he left her to guard the barrier 
 for a moment, with the injunction to call out to him 
 at once if the marauders made any move towards 
 the stairway. Then he stole silently into one of 
 the back rooms. 
 
 If Marjorie and he could only get down to the 
 ground in the rear of the house and, undiscovered, 
 reach the shelter of the woods, he felt that in the 
 darkness they could evade pursuit. Silently he 
 raised the window. There was a fresh wind blow 
 ing which sent the clouds scudding across the sky 
 and made the branches of the dark pines and hem 
 locks murmur as if in conversation among them 
 selves. It was a friendly sound, a soothing sound. 
 In the rooms below the rough, blood-stained men 
 could be heard carrying out the barrels and boxes 
 of supplies. This they did noisily, with loud- 
 tongued argument freely spiced with oaths. Out 
 side the fragrant woods suggested peace, offering a 
 sanctuary from the threatened danger. Clayborne 
 carefully measured with his eye the distance to the 
 ground. It was about fifteen feet. If he could 
 only devise means to swing Marjorie to the ground, 
 he could follow her, and then they could get away 
 together. Gordon remembered the rope which he 
 had brought upstairs, and did not hesitate a mo 
 ment in the execution of his plan. There was not 
 a moment to waste in irresolution. Stealthily he 
 returned to where he had left Marjorie. She was 
 an alert and watchful little sentinel. 
 
 " They are still busy over their looting," she
 
 368 THE CLAYBORNES 
 
 said. " Is it almost time for us to say good-by ? " 
 She spoke with a touching calmness which won his 
 lasting admiration. He pressed her arm softly 
 while he told her of his project. With her face 
 close to his in the darkness, with her breath on his 
 cheek, he felt his heart leap as she whispered. " I 
 will do anything you say, go anywhere you direct. 
 I feel safe when you are with me." 
 
 Gordon quickly unwound the rope which he had 
 used in building the barricade. Testing it, he 
 found, to his delight, that it was strong enough to 
 hold twice his weight. 
 
 " Come," he said, leading the way. 
 
 Marjorie shivered with excitement as she felt 
 the fresh night wind blow in her face. 
 
 " As soon as your feet touch the ground," said 
 Gordon, " make for that large clump of trees over 
 there on the right. Do you see it ? " 
 
 Yes." 
 
 " Our enemies are all busy on exactly the oppo 
 site side of the house. I shall follow you directly. 
 The chances are we shall not be seen ; but what 
 ever happens, do not stop running. Whatever 
 happens, do not wait for me." 
 
 " I shall wait for you," she replied, looking at 
 him, her eyes shining brightly. 
 
 Marjorie stood on the window sill, the knotted 
 end of the rope held between her hands. 
 
 " Are you quite sure you can let me down ? I 
 am afraid I shall prove too heavy for you," she 
 said anxiously.
 
 FOUR STURDY KNAVES 369 
 
 u You are not so heavy but what I could hold 
 you with one hand, little girl. Keep a tight hold 
 until you feel your feet touch the ground," he 
 counseled, " then let go and run for the shadow." 
 
 " And you," she replied, " will you surely be 
 able to get down in safety ? " 
 
 " Yes, of course I shall." 
 
 She clung to his shoulder for an instant, his lips 
 touched hers. " Now ready," he whispered. Her 
 fingers tightened on the rope. Instead of letting 
 her go, Gordon caught her suddenly around the 
 waist and swung her back into the middle of the 
 room, while he dropped like a shot to the floor, 
 raising his head to the level of the sill. 
 
 " Are you hurt, Gordon ? " cried Marjorie with 
 anxiety. 
 
 " Silence," motioned Gordon. Directly under the 
 window walked the man whom Marjorie called the 
 red monster. The fellow had been left to guard 
 the outside of the house, while the other three 
 came within. The stump of his amputated arm 
 was roughly bandaged, and was evidently causing 
 him much suffering, for he was whining as he 
 walked. He was weak from pain and loss of blood, 
 and had taken a good deal of whiskey to sustain 
 himself. In his right hand he carried a large 
 Colt's revolver ; and although he was patrolling 
 about the house, his eye was at the moment upon 
 the ground. He passed exactly underneath the 
 window, reached the angle of the house, then 
 turned on his heel.
 
 370 THE CLAYBORNES 
 
 Gordon quickly made a slip-knot in the cord 
 and rose to his feet. Galloway passed again be 
 neath him and looked up. Down over his neck 
 fell the noose, and was pulled taut. With the 
 instinct of self-preservation the man's one free 
 hand flew to his throat in time to be caught within 
 the running noose ; but the snare drawn by a strong 
 hand closed about his neck. The cry that rose to 
 his lips was stifled. Gordon had caught his fish, 
 and stood for a moment undecided what to do. 
 The red monster pulled desperately at the line. 
 Gordon wound his end firmly about his hands, and 
 pulled with all his young vigorous strength. The 
 big fish heaved, but the stout cord held. There 
 was a clatter and scramble, and up Red Galloway 
 came with a rush. The veins were swelling on 
 Gordon's forehead from the exertion, but he had 
 his fish well in hand. Up to the level of the 
 window came the red monster, his eye bulging from 
 its socket, his purple face almost black, the breath 
 nearly forced out of his body, great beads of sweat 
 standing on his blotched forehead. Marjorie looked 
 upon the scene almost petrified with horror. Gor 
 don caught the man by the collar and landed him 
 safely in upon the floor. There the fish lay gasp 
 ing with no fight left in him. 
 
 " He 's beaten out for some time," said Gordon. 
 " Now, Marjorie, to the window ! " Quickly seizing 
 the rope he swung her to the ground. Dropping 
 to the ground by her side, he took her arm and 
 together they ran to the cover of the trees. A
 
 FOUR STURDY KNAVES 371 
 
 hundred yards they sped, then paused to take 
 breath. "They'll never find us in these woods 
 to-night, little comrade," said Gordon gayly. 
 
 "Thank heaven, we are still alive ! ", exclaimed 
 Marjorie. " Oh, Gordon ! Oh, Gordon ! what if 
 they had killed you ! " 
 
 " But they did n't, and we are both quite safe. 
 Look and see if you cannot make out where their 
 horses are picketed. We '11 take two of them." 
 
 " Oh, I must find Dolly," cried Marjorie, as 
 they penetrated still farther into the forest. 
 
 " Where is the mare ? " 
 
 " I left her in an old barn near the house." 
 
 " We cannot go so near, and she must have 
 been discovered and taken away long ago," replied 
 Gordon. 
 , " Poor Dolly," sighed Marjorie gently. 
 
 As she spoke there was a roar and a flash. The 
 mine had been exploded, and the house burst into 
 flames. 
 
 "Those brutes have kept their word," cried 
 Gordon, " and they must have blown up their own 
 red monster poor devil ! " 
 
 The light showed him the horses straining at 
 their tethers. They were not fifty yards away. 
 
 " Quick, Marjorie, before we are seen ! Once 
 mounted, we can leave them far behind." Before 
 he had finished speaking the girl was running by 
 his side toward the animals. She needed no as 
 sistance to spring to the saddle. The woods for 
 many hundreds of yards around were too bright to
 
 372 THE CLAYBORNES 
 
 permit of concealment ; the outlaws saw them at 
 this instant, and with a yell ran towards them. 
 
 " Quick, Gordon, for the love of heaven ! " cried 
 Marjorie, her heart in her mouth. Releasing 
 three of the frightened beasts, Gordon stampeded 
 them, and then vaulting into the saddle of his 
 own horse, he rode off with Marjorie by his side. 
 Through the woods they rode, the yells and pis 
 tol shots sounding fainter and fainter in the dis 
 tance. Then at last, striking out on the highway, 
 they galloped on through the night. The moon 
 sank behind the wooded hills, and only the stars 
 remained shining kindly down upon the two. 
 There was a wild excitement in the ride which 
 set Marjorie's pulse on fire. She quickened the 
 pace. Faster they flew, the wind blowing in their 
 faces, the blood tingling in their veins. 
 
 " Do you remember our rides about Memphis, 
 Marjorie?" asked Gordon, "how we rode to 
 gether three years ago ? " 
 
 " Yes ; but we never rode like this, Gordon. I 
 never expected to ride by your side again." 
 
 " But I thought you would, Marjorie. I knew 
 you would. Did you think I would give you up so 
 easily ? " 
 
 She turned her head toward him. He could 
 not see all the expression of love on her face, but 
 he could see her eyes shining at him brighter than 
 they had ever shone before. 
 
 He could not speak. There was no need of 
 words in this wild ride. To him the long years
 
 FOUR STURDY KNAVES 373 
 
 that had passed seemed a dream. The present 
 only seemed real. The present moment alone was 
 life. What if to-morrow should be the end for 
 him? To-night was his. To-night he lived in 
 deed. She loved him, and he was riding by her 
 side. So they rode in silence. In his ear rang the 
 words, " Gordon, I love you," set to music by the 
 rhythmical beating of the horses' hoofs, reechoed 
 by the wind, the same refrain, " Gordon, I love 
 you." While to her, the swaying treetops seemed 
 to be repeating over and over, "Little comrade, 
 there are years of happiness ahead for you and 
 ine." What to them was the morrow ! The pre 
 sent was theirs. On and on they rode together 
 through the night.
 
 CHAPTER XXVII 
 
 THE LAST OF THE CLAYBORNE HORSE 
 
 TWENTY-SEVEN thousand veterans, all that re 
 mained of the Army of Northern Virginia, surren 
 dered at Appomattox. Silently they stacked the 
 arms they had carried through the war, crowning 
 them with the colors they had held aloft so long. 
 Thin were their ranks, tattered their battle-flags. 
 They had reached the last ditch. 
 
 The Clayborne troop, which four years before 
 had ridden gayly to the front a thousand strong, 
 now mustered a mere handful. The gorgeous 
 trappings of the steeds, the brilliant uniforms of 
 the riders, were no more. The men sat like statues 
 on their horses, and saw the banners which they 
 loved so dearly added to the pile. Reduced by 
 hunger, ragged and unkempt, beaten out at last, 
 these cavaliers had saved nothing from the ruin 
 beyond the lustre of their valor and the brightness 
 of their swords. 
 
 Colonel Clayborne, his gray hair uncovered to 
 the wind, with neither coat nor vest, wrapped in 
 a torn army blanket tied around his neck, kept 
 his place at their head, the undying spirit of his 
 courage burning to the end. " Boys," he said, his
 
 THE LAST OF THE CLAYBORNE HORSE 375 
 
 voice choking with emotion, " we 've fought our 
 last fight together, we've ridden our last ride. 
 You 've been to me like sons, and before we part 
 here, I should like to take every man of you to my 
 heart." Then he and Clifford rode away, the old 
 man with bowed head, his frame shaken by sobs 
 he made no effort to suppress ; the young man 
 with a face from which the smile had vanished. 
 
 " Where shall we go now, boy ? " asked the 
 colonel, lifting his eyes. " It seems as if there was 
 nothing left for me to do. I should have laid my 
 old bones where so many of my brave men have 
 found their final rest." 
 
 " Father," replied Clifford, " why not go to our 
 home?" 
 
 " Home," echoed the old man bitterly. " Who 
 has a home now ? Look at the land," he cried, 
 with a sweeping gesture of the arm, " and answer 
 who among us still has a home he can call his own. 
 Can we expect to find our house standing and our 
 belongings still secure ? " 
 
 " Our home in Richmond is unharmed." 
 
 " How do you know ? " 
 
 " I have received word to that effect." 
 
 " From whom ? " 
 
 " Gordon." 
 
 " Your brother ! Have you seen him ? " 
 
 " I have seen him and embraced him. Will 
 you not do so also ? " 
 
 " Embrace an enemy? " 
 
 " Not as an enemy, but as your son. I know
 
 376 THE CLAYBORNES 
 
 we have reason to feel wrathful towards Gordon ; 
 but I 've told you how we met and fought it out 
 at the stone bridge. I licked him there, and damn 
 it all, dad, I can't feel any resentment against 
 him now. Don't you think you could forgive 
 him? " 
 
 " I am going home. Tell Gordon if he wants 
 to see his old father before he dies he can come 
 there," said the colonel wearily. " But, by Gad, 
 sir," he flared out with his old spirit, " he '11 have 
 to humble himself, Clifford, if he wants my for 
 giveness. Good-by, my lad. If the old roof-tree 
 is still standing, you will know where to find me." 
 
 Clifford sat and watched the gray-head ride 
 slowly away with dignity, while the tattered army 
 blanket flapped in the wind. " Poor old dad," 
 was all he said, but there was a catch in his voice, 
 and driving his spurs suddenly into his horse's 
 flanks, he made his animal spring forward with 
 a start. He had ridden half a mile when he saw a 
 well-known figure on horseback galloping towards 
 him. It was Gordon Clay borne. The two brothers 
 drew rein, facing each other. 
 
 Gordon was dressed in a fatigue uniform. It 
 was new and neat, with freshly polished buttons. 
 Clifford was as ragged as the roughest rider in 
 his troop, and many a button had parted company 
 with his coat. Both men were mounted on spirited 
 horses, and in spite of the difference in their clothes 
 they resembled each other strongly in bearing and 
 manner.
 
 THE LAST OF THE CLAYBORNE HORSE 377 
 
 " Clifford, I was coming in search of you," said 
 the elder. 
 
 " And I for you," was the response ; then in 
 the next breath : " Gad, Gordon, you are a swell ! 
 Do you always dress like that, or did you put 
 this on to overawe your ragged and unfortunate 
 brother?" 
 
 "Nonsense, Clifford, this is no full dress, and 
 you know it. You know also that if I have a coat 
 there is another for you." 
 
 " I '11 go naked before I '11 put on one of those 
 damned blue ones, Gordon ; and as there seems to 
 be little left of the gray, I think I shall leave the 
 country. Perhaps I '11 go to Mexico and offer my 
 sword to Maximilian." 
 
 " You '11 do nothing of the sort, Clifford. You '11 
 stay in this country. Did n't you get the word I 
 sent you ? The house in Richmond has been kept 
 safe from fire and from thieves. My friend Ches 
 terfield has just come from there. He saw to it 
 that the property was protected by Union troops. 
 And Clifford," continued his brother, " as you 
 took me prisoner at the bridge, I am going to 
 take you prisoner here. I want you to come with 
 me." 
 
 " Lead on, then, but wherever you take me I 
 shall not resent being introduced to a square 
 meal ; for to tell the truth, Gordon, I 'm more 
 than hungry." 
 
 " How damned thoughtless of me ! " exclaimed 
 Gordon reproachfully. " Twenty thousand rations
 
 378 THE CLAYBORNES 
 
 have been issued to feed you all. Yon shall have 
 something to eat at once, my boy." 
 
 The two men rode off side by side. After the 
 first cravings of Clifford's appetite had been ap 
 peased, Gordon placed his hand affectionately on 
 his brother's arm. 
 
 " Old fellow," he said, " you did me a far greater 
 service than you knew when you sent me to the 
 house by the cross-roads." 
 
 " In what way ? " asked Clifford quickly. 
 
 " Come with me and you shall see," replied Gor 
 don. " You are still my prisoner, you know." 
 
 The paroling of Lee's vanquished troops was 
 taking place as fast as the papers could be made 
 out. The Claybornes passed long lines of South 
 ern soldiers who filed slowly by to stack their arms 
 and surrender their beloved standards. Many 
 wore grim and sullen faces ; others, with stream 
 ing eyes, reluctantly laid down their arms and ten 
 derly kissed the tattered battle-flags, emblems to 
 them of all that they had fought for, bled for, and 
 lost. As Clifford looked, his own eyelashes were 
 wet. From his war-stained comrades his eye 
 swept over the great array of Union troops who 
 stood, regiment upon regiment, in absolute silence, 
 looking on with that sympathy which brave men 
 feel for a gallant foe. 
 
 " We are beaten, Gordon," exclaimed Clifford, 
 " beaten to the ground, but it has been done by 
 force of numbers." 
 
 " It was written in the nation's destiny that it
 
 THE LAST OF THE CLAYBORNE HORSE 379 
 
 should be so," was the rejoinder. " Believe me, 
 brother, the day will come when you will say, ' It 
 was better that it ended as it did.' ' 
 
 " Never ! " cried Clifford passionately. " We 
 yield to fate, we accept the final arbitrament of 
 arms, but never shall we cease to justify the right 
 eousness of our cause." 
 
 A party of Union officers came slowly along the 
 road, their horses walking leisurely while the riders 
 talked and laughed together in the highest spirits. 
 They felt that their work was nearly over, the 
 great load had been at last lifted from their 
 shoulders. They were the chieftains of the Federal 
 army, and upon this bright April morning they 
 made the air ring with their talk and laughter, like 
 boys let out of school. At their head rode a man 
 with closely trimmed beard. His coat was unbut 
 toned to the balmy air. He* wore no sword nor 
 any insignia of rank save the stars on his shoulder- 
 straps, yet Clifford knew him at once to be the com- 
 mander-iii-chief of the armies of the United States. 
 No signs of elation were on the general's face, 
 but the anxious look, which had been there so con 
 stantly from the beginning of the campaign in the 
 Wilderness until the fall of Richmond, had given 
 place to one of peace. With unfaltering determi 
 nation he had fought through a long and bloody 
 war. He had won. He saw himself exalted by the 
 people as no citizen of the Republic had ever been 
 exalted, yet he bore his honors with the serenity 
 of a mind truly great. With his head full of the
 
 380 THE CLAYBORNES 
 
 details of the surrender, he was generously plan 
 ning to make the path as easy for the vanquished 
 as could be done with justice. As he rode along 
 he exchanged pleasantries with General Sheridan, 
 who rode by his side, Little Phil Sheridan, 
 whose vivacious spirits were overflowing, who pre 
 ferred fighting to food or rest, and who, before the 
 last gun of the rebellion had been fired, was hot to 
 carry war against the usurping French in Mexico. 
 
 " They are good soldiers," said Clifford, looking 
 after them with mingled interest and respect. 
 " They are great generals. To underrate them is 
 to belittle our own. It is no disgrace to yield to 
 such men ; but Gordon, my boy, there is only one 
 Bayard. They have conquered him at last. They 
 have scattered his armies and taken him a pris 
 oner, but in our hearts he will always be the peer 
 less knight sans penr et sans reproche." 
 
 " There are many such, Clifford," said Gordon, 
 laying his hand affectionately on his brother's 
 shoulder. " There are many ' preux chevaliers ' 
 upon both sides. I have seen them at the head 
 of armies and in the ranks as well. The Rolands 
 and Bayards live always." 
 
 " That is true," acquiesced Clifford, " but never 
 has the title of knighthood been more truly worn 
 than by our general. Since he has been obliged 
 by fate to yield, it little matters what becomes of 
 Clifford Clayborne. Take my sword and beat it 
 into a ploughshare, load me with chains, Gordon. 
 The iron cannot enter more deeply into my soul."
 
 THE LAST OF THE CLAYBORNE HORSE 381 
 
 " Life is still young, Clifford, and our lives have 
 just begun. A stern decree threw us upon oppo 
 site sides in a terrible struggle, but blood is thicker 
 than water ; we are now reunited and are friends 
 true friends, are we not, Clifford ? " 
 
 " Yes, old man, we are," exclaimed Clifford, 
 " though I must admit for a time I hated you in 
 my heart. But when I pulled you, half drowned, 
 out of the stream, I forgave you, Gordon." 
 
 " Stand by me, Clifford, for the rest of your 
 life, and 'fore God I '11 stand by you. There will 
 never be a dollar in my hand which I won't share 
 with you." 
 
 " Gordon Clayborne," replied the younger man, 
 " we '11 stand together in future, so help me God. 
 I never want to cut you down again." 
 
 " Major Clayborne ! " exclaimed a bluff voice. 
 The two Claybornes looked in the direction whence 
 it came, and Gordon recognized his old friend Ches 
 terfield astride a small but vicious army mule, his 
 bearded face streaked with perspiration, while he 
 resisted the animal's efforts to throw the rider over 
 his head. The stubborn brute was coming towards 
 them with a motion suggestive of an acrobat turn 
 ing handsprings. Although the gait was violent 
 the progress was small ; but Chesterfield, his long 
 legs clasped tightly to the animal's sides, his note 
 books and pencils flying in all directions, was not 
 to be unseated or ruffled. 
 
 " Be patient, gentlemen," he called out cheerily, 
 " and I shall reach you. We 've been traveling
 
 382 THE CLAYBORNES 
 
 like this for the last hundred yards, and both of 
 us are getting rather used to it. He '11 bolt in a 
 minute or I '11 miss my guess, and then you will 
 see me pass you like a streak of greased light 
 ning." 
 
 Chesterfield did miss his guess. The mule had 
 a mind which was not to be read even by an astute 
 newspaper correspondent. Arriving within a yard 
 of the Claybornes, the animal threw himself down 
 in the dirt with a shock, leaving Chesterfield to 
 stand over him with an expression of reproach 
 and surprise on his face. The mule, with a grunt 
 of satisfaction, proceeded to roll comfortably in 
 the dirt, oblivious to the two excited horses snort 
 ing above him. Chesterfield, however, gathered 
 himself together and sat down upon the neck of 
 the prostrate mule. The brute made no further 
 attempt to move, but stretched out his nose in the 
 dust with a sneeze, and closed his eyes contentedly, 
 while a gentle twitching of his tail seemed to say, 
 " I surrender, but what are you going to do about 
 it?" 
 
 Chesterfield rose to his feet and surveyed the 
 animal with a critical eye. " That 's a real good 
 mule, only he 's been driven as wheel mule to an 
 ambulance, and he refuses to go without a leader. 
 If you will trot your horse down the road, Clay- 
 borne, you will find me sailing after you like a 
 bird in the air." 
 
 Both the Claybornes laughed heartily at the 
 sight of the big newspaper correspondent solemnly
 
 waiting for his beast to rise. This the mule did 
 with great deliberation, and stood quietly twitching 
 his tail and shaking his big ears while Chesterfield 
 beat the dirt out of him with his riding- whip, as if 
 he were a dusty carpet. 
 
 " Why don't you sell him and get a horse ? " 
 laughingly inquired Gordon. 
 
 " Sell him ? Why, I can't give him away ; and 
 I 've had such bad luck with horses. Two have 
 been stolen, one died on my hands, three have 
 mysteriously disappeared, and one had the ill grace 
 to get shot from under me. I took this beast 
 because no one will steal him. He can live on 
 anything or nothing, and is impervious to bullets. 
 All he requires is another animal ahead of him to 
 encourage him." 
 
 " Why don't you hire a boy to ride in front of 
 you as a sort of postilion ? " suggested Gordon. 
 
 " That 's a capital idea, Clayborne. I '11 put it 
 into immediate execution. I have a great deal of 
 work on hand. I want to get the first interview 
 with the leading generals on both sides. I am now 
 on my way to find General Longstreet." 
 
 "My brother here, Major Clifford Clayborne, 
 will doubtless be able to tell you where General 
 Longstreet is to be found. Clifford, let me make 
 you acquainted with my particular friend, Benja 
 min Chesterfield of St. Louis. Chesterfield has 
 been through the war from start to finish, and his 
 reports have made him famous." 
 
 " I have read many of your articles, Mr. Ches-
 
 384 THE CLAYBORNES 
 
 terfield," said Clifford, laughing. " We got the 
 Northern papers quite regularly in Richmond dur 
 ing the blockade, but I never expected to meet the 
 distinguished author." 
 
 " The Clayborne Horse, Major, has been a 
 household word with us. ' As daring a devil as a 
 Clayborne raider ' is a familiar expression, and I 
 am glad that my first meeting is of a friendly 
 nature and not with you upon your black horse, 
 riding down upon me with drawn sword." 
 
 " Oh, we never would harm a knight of the 
 quill, Mr. Chesterfield," was the reply. Then, 
 with a shadow across his handsome face, Clifford 
 added, " The Clayborne Horse will never ride 
 again. We are your prisoners now. The South 
 has been beaten, but if we had it to go all over 
 again, I still think we might win." 
 
 Chesterfield shook his head as he mounted his 
 mule. " You should not have challenged the 
 North, Major, without counting noses. We had 
 more men and more money. We told you so at 
 the start, but you would not listen to us. Yet it 
 was a hard task you set for us, and let us thank 
 God it's over, and all be friends." Then turning 
 to Gordon in his quick way, he said : 
 
 " I want you to capture General Ware for me. 
 I have discovered his reluctance to talk to news 
 paper men, and I am very anxious to interview 
 him." 
 
 " I will endeavor to catch the general for you 
 and do my best to make him talk, but the devil
 
 THE LAST OF THE CLAYBORNE HORSE 385 
 
 himself could not make him open his lips when he 
 chooses to be silent." 
 
 " It does beat the devil, then, how communica 
 tive the general is with you, Clayborne," replied 
 Chesterfield quickly. 
 
 " That 's to make up for long silence and dis 
 approval on his part," was the laughing rejoin 
 der. Clayborne could afford to laugh now, for 
 General Ware and he had at last met under 
 more favorable circumstances, and the general 
 had not only accepted the inevitable, but after 
 becoming acquainted with his future son-in-law, 
 had declared him to be a man to be trusted. 
 This from General Ware meant an indorsement 
 for life. 
 
 A commissary wagon laden with grain for the 
 hungry prisoners came rolling merrily along. 
 With a wave of his hand and a cheery " Here 's 
 my opportunity ! " Chesterfield fell in behind it, 
 leaving the two brothers to gallop off in the oppo 
 site direction. 
 
 They rode side by side, as they had ridden many 
 years before, with the same gallant bearing that 
 belonged to them both. 
 
 " Dismount here," said Gordon a few minutes 
 later, springing from his horse before one of the 
 few houses Appomattox could boast. Opening the 
 gate, he made his way through a garden glorious 
 with spring flowers. Violets and daffodils made 
 the air soft with their perfume. Amid this scene 
 of peace stood Marjorie Ware, looking as fragrant
 
 386 THE CLAYBORNES 
 
 and sweet as one of the half -opened roses with the 
 morning dew fresh upon its petals. 
 
 Clifford Clayborne stopped at the sight of her, 
 and raised his ragged cap from his head with a 
 graceful air of politeness. 
 
 " Clifford," said Gordon, " this lady is Miss 
 Marjorie Ware, who has honored me by consent 
 ing to become my wife." 
 
 A look of amazement came to Clifford's face ; 
 he had recognized at once the young woman who 
 had thrown herself upon his protection at the house 
 near the cross-roads. The grave events of the past 
 few days had driven all else out of his mind. Un 
 til this moment he had not given her a second 
 thought ; but Clifford was a man who never was 
 at loss for a word. He was always at his ease, 
 whether dressed in rags or attired in purple and 
 fine linen. He stepped forward with his most 
 polished manner and took Marjorie by the hand, 
 saying : 
 
 "I give you my most earnest wish for happi 
 ness, sister. In my present state that is all I have 
 to give you." 
 
 There was an appearance of shyness and reserve 
 in Marjorie's manner as she took his hand, but her 
 bright blue eyes looked earnestly into his face. 
 She, too, recalled vividly how he had championed 
 her, how her heart had sunk when he had ridden 
 suddenly away. 
 
 Clifford leaned forward and kissed her gently 
 on the forehead. " I could not wish Gordon Clay-
 
 THE LAST OF THE CLAYBORNE HORSE 387 
 
 borne a prettier or sweeter bride," he exclaimed 
 gallantly. 
 
 " I am sure I could not ask for a truer brother 
 than Clifford Clayborne," she replied. As she 
 spoke the thought of her own brother rushed into 
 her mind ; there was an accent of sadness in the 
 words and a shade of deep regret settled on her 
 face. Gordon saw the shadow, and with that clear 
 insight which love gives knew the cause. He left 
 his betrothed in conversation with his brother, 
 and stepping into another path walked among the 
 flowers, while he pondered how he could find Fran 
 cis Ware, and perhaps regenerate him for the 
 sister's sake.
 
 CHAPTER XXVIII 
 
 THE CLAYBORNE BROTHERS 
 
 STANDING under the trees upon a knoll a little 
 removed from the scene of the great drama, Regina 
 Bowie viewed the surrender at Appomattox. Hei 
 dark lashes were wet with tears of anger and pain 
 as she saw the regiments which she loved so well 
 mournfully give up their arms upon the field of 
 their last battle. Her heart was bitter with ab 
 horrence and hatred for the victors ; it was tender 
 with pity and love for the vanquished. 
 
 To her side came Francis Ware. He was thin 
 ner and paler than ever. Disease had racked his 
 body and passion was consuming his soul. Tak 
 ing from under his worn coat a little packet, he 
 placed it in the young woman's hand. 
 
 " Regina, this is the flag you made for the Clay- 
 borne Horse. I managed to secrete it. I have 
 kept it hidden and bring it back to you now, 
 thinking you would like to have it." 
 
 Her look softened as she took the blackened 
 remnant. 
 
 " Thank you, Frank, you 're a right good fellow, 
 and you always have been a true friend of mine." 
 She shook out the tattered folds to the breeze, say 
 ing with renewed fierceness :
 
 THE CLAYBORNE BROTHERS 389 
 
 "No, they shall never have this. I will die 
 first and have it wrapped about me for a shroud. 
 They have set their iron heel upon my country ; 
 they have ruined that forever ; they have crushed 
 out the spirit of liberty ; they have killed most of 
 our best and bravest, and will enslave all whom 
 their swords have spared, but I will never yield to 
 them ; never, never ! " 
 
 "Regina," said young Ware with solicitude, 
 " do not work yourself into such a frenzy. The 
 end has come. Why not accept the inevitable ? " 
 
 " And take the oath of allegiance ? " she cried. 
 " I will kill myself first ! " and she struck her 
 breast with her clinched fist. 
 
 " Regina, listen to me," said Ware, his voice 
 breaking with emotion. " I love you. For you 
 I gave up that which a man should hold dearest, 
 his honor. I do not regret it," he continued hur 
 riedly, "for I love you more than country or 
 honor and all else in the world. Become my wife. 
 I will work for you, slave for you. I am young, I 
 am strong. Though I may look feeble now, I am 
 really strong, Regina. Let us go away together, 
 far away from this country. Somewhere the world 
 is fair, my adored one. The most distant land 
 would be a paradise with you and love. Will you 
 not marry me, now ? I have waited so long." 
 
 She stood quietly with a look in her wondrous 
 eyes much softer and gentler than had been there 
 for many a long day. 
 
 " Frank," she said, speaking slowly in her low, 
 sweet tone, " I do not love you."
 
 390 THE CLAYBORNES 
 
 " But you must, my adored, you must ! " he cried 
 feverishly. " Such love as mine must kindle some 
 response in your heart." 
 
 She shook her head sadly, saying : 
 
 " Frank, I 'd give the world to love as you do, 
 but I cannot." 
 
 " Try," he cried, seizing her hand ; " try, that is 
 aU I ask." 
 
 " I cannot ; it is not in me. Listen to me now, 
 Frank. I never cared for you as much as I do at 
 this moment : what I say now is for your good. 
 Leave me, Frank, my dear fellow. Leave me, and 
 then let me go my own way." 
 
 " I cannot, Regina." 
 
 " It is for your own good." 
 
 " But where are you going ? " he asked wildly. 
 "What spot will you find whither I cannot fol 
 low?" 
 
 " I shall leave this land," she cried, striking her 
 heel into the turf. " I shall go to Mexico, or to 
 England, or France. I do not know where, but I 
 shall never take the oath of allegiance here to the 
 despots." 
 
 " May I not follow ? I will follow you, Regina, 
 wherever you go." 
 
 "I cannot prevent your following me. I like 
 to have you with me, but I tell you for your own 
 good not to come. I am going to leave you now, 
 Frank. If you seek me out, I shall not give you 
 such good advice another time. I am not always 
 so disinterested. Good-by, Frank."
 
 THE CLAYBORNE BROTHERS 391 
 
 " I shall see you again, Regina," he replied, put 
 ting his lips to her hand. 
 
 " Think it all over first, Frank," she answered, 
 turning quickly away. 
 
 Francis Ware walked up and down under the 
 trees where she had left him ; with bowed head he 
 walked back and forth, thinking deeply. 
 
 Benjamin Chesterfield, having given his recalci 
 trant mule to a colored boy, was making better 
 progress by the use of his own legs, when he saw 
 Regina Bowie ride swiftly away from a clump of 
 trees that crested a hillock near at hand. She 
 passed near enough to see and recognize the big 
 correspondent, and as she went by she waved her 
 hand with an imperious, half-defiant gesture. And 
 thus she rode away, the tears scarcely dry upon 
 her cheeks, but with a look of pride on her hand 
 some face ; unyielding, unsubdued, defiant to the 
 last. 
 
 As she disappeared from sight, Chesterfield's 
 eye went back to the man she had left. Ches 
 terfield, who never forgot a name or a face, was 
 obliged to look more than twice at the gaunt figure 
 striding back and forth under the trees, before he- 
 could be sure as to its identity. He approached 
 noiselessly, and put his hand upon the young 
 man's shoulder, saying in his deep, healthful 
 voice : 
 
 " Francis." 
 
 The latter started and looked up. 
 
 "Good God! You, Chesterfield!" then sud-
 
 392 THE CLAYBORNES 
 
 denly lowering his eyes. " Don't look at me, man ! 
 Don't touch me ! Don't speak to me ! " 
 
 "Frank, my boy, I understand it all, and I 
 shall speak to you," replied the big man gently. 
 
 "What do you understand?" cried the other 
 fiercely, looking full into Chesterfield's eyes, his 
 own face on fire. 
 
 " About her, old chap," replied Chesterfield, lay 
 ing his hand on Ware's shoulder tenderly. 
 
 " Do you understand that I am a disgraced and 
 ruined man?" replied the boy; "that if I am 
 caught by the Federals, I shall be shot as a de 
 serter ? I am so changed I did not think any one 
 would recognize me. I am down on the Confed 
 erate muster-rolls under another name. If my 
 true name becomes known, I shall be sentenced to 
 die a miserable death. Oh, Chesterfield, what of 
 my poor sister ? What about my unhappy father ? 
 I never realized it so fully as at this moment." 
 
 " I will not betray you." 
 
 " I almost wish you would. I wish you would 
 take your revolver and shoot me now. Say, won't 
 you do it, Chesterfield ? " 
 
 " Frank," said the big man sternly, " control 
 yourself and listen to reason." 
 
 " Reason ! I abandoned that long ago," was 
 the reply, with a dry laugh. 
 
 " Frank," said Chesterfield in his cool, convin 
 cing way, " you shall come with me. I will put 
 you where you shall be safe for the present. I 
 know enough of the temper of the country and of
 
 THE CLAYBORNE BROTHERS 393 
 
 those in power to feel sure that later many things 
 will be overlooked. Later, when blood is cooler, 
 you will be pardoned." 
 
 " I deserve no pardon. I desire none." 
 
 " Frank, I liked you when I knew you in the 
 early days of the war. I 'm not a man to change 
 my friendship easily. I 'm an older man than 
 you, and I 'm going to help you out of this damned 
 bad scrape, and you 've got to come with me." 
 
 " And leave her, Chesterfield ? I cannot." 
 
 " You must leave her. You 've got to be a man, 
 Frank." 
 
 " You don't know what you ask," cried Ware 
 wildly. " You could n't do it, Chesterfield, if you 
 loved as I do." 
 
 " I do know," replied Chesterfield, speaking in 
 a voice so low as to be scarcely audible. "I 
 once loved a woman. To me she seemed as fair 
 as Helen of Troy. She was as fair as Helen, as 
 fickle as Manon Lescaut, as cold-hearted as Bea 
 trix Esmond, with the grace and beauty and wit 
 and vanity and deceit of all the heartless women 
 who have held men in thrall since the world began. 
 I left her. It was bitter at the time ; but I did it, 
 and you 've got to take your medicine too, Frank." 
 
 " I never knew that of you, Chesterfield," said 
 Ware, looking at his friend with interest. 
 
 " It was long ago, Frank, when I was just about 
 your age and just about such a young fool." 
 
 " Tell me more," said Frank, with that craving 
 which the miserable have for companionship.
 
 394 THE CLAYBORNES 
 
 " Some day, perhaps, but not now. I will tell 
 you now what I propose to do at present. The 
 war is over, Frank. I am a man who longs for 
 excitement and action. I am going to the West. 
 You shall come with me. You shall live out under 
 the sky, you shall look up at the stars at night. 
 You shall ride over the plains, and fill your lungs 
 with the pure air of the mountains. You 're young, 
 my lad, you 're nothing but a boy yet. Come 
 and be a man, Frank. Come and live with men. 
 You 've got a long life before you. Will you 
 come, Frank ? " He laid his hand again on the 
 young fellow's arm, speaking with persuasive 
 charm. 
 
 Francis Ware hesitated. The struggle within 
 him caused his slight frame to tremble, but he 
 looked into Chesterfield's clear eyes, and an 
 swered : 
 
 " Yes, I '11 come, Chesterfield." 
 
 " Good ! " cried the correspondent. " And you 
 won't weaken later, Frank ? Promise me on your 
 honor, no matter what happens, you '11 keep your 
 word with me." 
 
 " On my honor, Chesterfield, what there is left 
 of it, I '11 go with you, and be a man again." 
 
 Chesterfield drew his arm through that of young 
 Ware and led him in the direction of a distant 
 house. 
 
 " Where are you taking me ? " inquired Ware, 
 hanging back. 
 
 "I am going to take you to that house which
 
 THE CLAYBORNE BROTHERS 395 
 
 stands back from the road, almost hidden by fruit 
 trees." 
 
 The young man broke away from Chester 
 field. 
 
 " Don't take me where I shall see any one who 
 knows me. Good God ! I could not look any of 
 my old associates in the face. I don't understand 
 how I can bear to see you, but some way you seem 
 different. And if you had shot me, Chesterfield, 
 I should have felt almost grateful." 
 
 " Frank," said Chesterfield, stopping short and 
 looking down into the other's face with an ear 
 nest light in his own eyes, " I want you to trust 
 me absolutely for a while. I want you to leave 
 yourself entirely in my hands, knowing that I will 
 do nothing which can injure you." 
 
 Chesterfield had about him that manner of 
 strong self-reliance and hopefulness which inspires 
 confidence. Ware hesitated only for a moment, 
 then replied with more composure than he had yet 
 shown : 
 
 " I '11 trust you, Chesterfield, to the last." 
 
 " Come on, then ! " exclaimed the big fellow 
 in his cheeriest voice ; and as they walked, he 
 enlivened the way by light conversation, jest, and 
 anecdote, as if they were out for an afternoon 
 stroll. 
 
 As they drew near the blossoming garden, Ches 
 terfield made a slight detour, which made them ap 
 proach the place from the rear. At the lower end 
 of the orchard, screened by blossoming fruit trees,
 
 396 THE CLAYBORNES 
 
 was an old summer-house with a rose-bush twining 
 about it in rich profusion. Here Chesterfield left 
 his charge for a few moments, while he passed 
 around the house to the front. Francis Ware 
 dropped upon a seat, and with his head supported 
 by his hand sat listening to the hum of the insects 
 among the flowers, while he drank in the rich fra 
 grance of the spring. The moral support of Ches 
 terfield's strong presence temporarily withdrawn, 
 the reaction set in. Ware felt himself grow weak 
 and dizzy, his heart beat with an irregular throb, 
 his head sank lower upon his breast. 
 
 Thus Marjorie found him as she entered hurriedly 
 through the roses. He sprang to his feet. With 
 a glad cry like that of a mother when she regains 
 a wayward child, Marjorie threw her arms about 
 him, drawing his head down to her bosom to kiss 
 him, with that great love, that tenderness and en 
 tire forgiveness which are found only in a woman's 
 heart. 
 
 Finally Frank Ware arose from where he had 
 been seated for some time in silence, with his sis 
 ter's little hand in his, and speaking with more of 
 his old spirit said : - 
 
 " Chesterfield is the grandest man alive, little 
 sister." 
 
 She looked into his face with a radiant smile. 
 In her present state of happiness she would not 
 gainsay him, although in her heart she knew there 
 was a still grander man. Besides, she was not 
 thinking so much of what he said as of the fact
 
 THE CLAYBORNE BROTHERS 397 
 
 that he, her brother, who had been dead, was now 
 standing there before her. Very changed he was, 
 but she could see the Frank of old in his brown 
 eyes. She wanted to take him to her heart and 
 nurse him back to renewed life and strength. 
 
 " Where is he now ? " inquired Ware. 
 
 " Who, Gordon ? " she asked innocently. 
 
 " No, Chesterfield, of course." 
 
 " He is in the front of the house with Mr. 
 Clayborne. Shall I ask them to come to you, 
 dear?" 
 
 "No, only Chesterfield. I want to see him, for 
 we must go." 
 
 " Are you going away ? Are you not going to 
 see father? Have you not come to stay? Oh, 
 Frank, do not go," and she threw her arms about 
 him protectingly, as if she feared for his safety. 
 
 " I cannot see any one but Chesterfield. I must 
 go away, my dear. I cannot see father yet." 
 
 " Oh, Frank ! " she exclaimed imploringly, hold 
 ing him fast in her arms. 
 
 " Do not fear, I shall not go back to her. I 
 am going away with Chesterfield. I will see you 
 again, my dear sister." 
 
 She left him and returned with Chesterfield, 
 who if not the grandest man alive in her eyes, 
 stood very high in her affection now. 
 
 Francis Ware gave his sister a parting embrace, 
 she spoke a few words of tender solicitude, and 
 then he left her and went away as he had come, 
 with the big-hearted Chesterfield towering above
 
 398 THE CLAYBORNES 
 
 him. As Frank walked he drew himself up, and 
 already looked more like the man he was to 
 be. 
 
 Marjorie watched the two men until they passed 
 out of sight, then waited until the tears were dry 
 in her eyes before she rejoined the man who to 
 her was the grandest of them all. 
 
 Gordon Clayborne was standing by the gate to 
 say a parting word to his brother. Clifford, on 
 the other side, held Gordon by the hand. He was 
 going back to his own men and with them to ful 
 fill the conditions of the parole. 
 
 Marjorie stood a little distance off and looked 
 at the two brothers. Tall, graceful, soldierly they 
 were, with the proud bearing of true gentlemen. 
 In front of the house, high above their heads, its 
 glorious colors sparkling in the sun, flew the 
 American flag. 
 
 " Gordon," said Clifford, his voice deep with 
 emotion, " I love the cause I have fought for. 
 The flag of Virginia, God bless her, is dearer to 
 me at this moment than on the day when we first 
 flung it to the breeze in defiance of the North. 
 But we have been fairly beaten. The flag which 
 is flying above us both as we stand here is my flag 
 also, and there 's not a man in this country who 
 will be more true to the stars and stripes than I." 
 
 " Clifford, my brother," replied the elder, " we 
 are both Americans, and I thank God ; and the 
 day will come when every brave man who fought 
 against it will from the depth of his heart thank
 
 THE CLAYBORNE BROTHERS 399 
 
 God that the old flag flies over one country, our 
 country, Clifford." 
 
 Thus for a moment they separated, and with 
 a look of warm affection in his eyes Gordon 
 watched Clifford as he rode off on his black horse, 
 as true-hearted a knight as ever held a sword.
 
 CHAPTER XXIX 
 
 A THIRD OF A CENTURY LATER 
 
 THIRTY-THREE years have passed since the Clay- 
 borne Horse rode their last charge. The scene 
 has changed from the scars of a battlefield to the 
 productive land of a western ranch, from the 
 destruction of war to the fecundity of peace. Sur 
 rounded by broad and fruitful acres stands a large 
 house whose wide doors and porches betoken the 
 open-handed hospitality of the country. 
 
 In front of this generous mansion, upon a tall 
 staff, its brilliant colors made more glorious by the 
 rays of the western sun, flies the national flag. 
 
 This is the home of Francis Ware, who has 
 become a man of substance, with a wife and a 
 flourishing family, which has grown up to sturdy 
 manhood. 
 
 Another war has been fought, in which the sons 
 of the Puritan Ware and the sons of the Clay- 
 borne Cavaliers have marched shoulder to shoulder, 
 and fought side by side, under the flag of a united 
 country. And now, with the restoration of peace, 
 the families of Clayborne and of Ware have come 
 together in reunion to celebrate a national holiday. 
 Around Francis Ware's generous board they make
 
 A THIRD OF A CENTURY LATER 401 
 
 no mean show of numbers, for their families have 
 increased liberally in these thirty years. 
 
 Seated in the place of honor" is Benjamin Ches 
 terfield, white haired and white bearded, but carry 
 ing his threescore and ten years upon his broad 
 shoulders unbendingly ; his voice just as deep and 
 his handshake as hearty as when he was a corre 
 spondent at the front, a third of a century ago. 
 He has been many times around the world since 
 then, and rubbed shoulders with all sorts of men in 
 every land ; and the big heart beats just as warmly 
 for his fellowmen as it did in the old war days. 
 
 To-day there is even a warmer glow in old Ben 
 Chesterfield's heart as he looks at those about him. 
 
 There are Gordon and Clifford Clayborne, vet 
 erans of two wars, joking and laughing together, 
 with the spirit of the youngest at the table. Clif 
 ford Clayborne's hair is still dark and curly. He 
 looks like his father, the old colonel, whose bones 
 have long laid at rest with those of his comrades 
 of the old war times. Clifford is the same gallant, 
 vivacious spirit he has been since boyhood. His 
 knight-errant heart, after breaking many a lance 
 with Cupid in the tilt-yard of love, finally capitu 
 lated to the charms of a young woman described 
 by her fair rivals as a " plain but sensible girl," 
 but whom Clifford stoutly maintained was the fair 
 est of them all. And as he believes the same to 
 day, it can be safely argued that, contrary to the 
 prediction of his friends, he has proved a devoted 
 and a faithful husband.
 
 402 THE CLAYBORNES 
 
 Gordon Clayborne has served in the army for a 
 third of a century. The vocation of a soldier is 
 an arduous one ; it rarely lies in a bed of roses, 
 and does not always lead by a path of incessant 
 glory. Gordon Clayborne has won honorable dis 
 tinction in his career ; he has earned the shoulder- 
 straps of a general, and the right to retire and 
 spend the remainder of his days in ease, which is 
 not inglorious after a life of activity and strife. 
 
 These thirty years have changed Marjorie Clay- 
 borne's hair from golden-brown to soft gray, but 
 the delicate color still comes to her cheeks, and 
 her blue eyes shine brightly. Youth cannot lay 
 claim to all the comeliness in the world. There is 
 a loveliness that comes to age, where the spirit is 
 young and the mind serene, which frequently tran 
 scends the more vivid beauty of youth. 
 
 " Ben Chesterfield, here 's a toast," called Gor 
 don Clayborne in a hearty tone. 
 
 The cloth had been removed, the glasses filled, 
 and with one accord all rose to their feet as Gen 
 eral Clayborne spoke. Chesterfield's bright gray 
 eyes made the circuit of the table, his gaze resting 
 with particular sympathy and affection upon the 
 younger generation. His stout old heart beat with 
 pride as he looked upon their fine, clear-cut faces, 
 radiant with life and health, the best product of 
 American manhood and womanhood the men 
 hardy and muscular, the girls almost as tall as the 
 men, and fully as self-reliant, their independence 
 of spirit and the graceful freedom of their move-
 
 A THIRD OF A CENTURY LATER 403 
 
 ments detracting not a whit from their womanly 
 charm. 
 
 General Clayborne, the ardent fire of patriotism 
 lighting up his face, gave the toast : 
 
 " To our country ! " 
 
 It was drunk with fervor ; then a burst of cheers 
 shook the great rafters of the house. 
 
 " America may well be proud of such children," 
 said old Chesterfield to himself earnestly. " My 
 dear friends," he said aloud, as soon as he could 
 make himself heard above the noise, " the love of 
 country is one of the noblest of human sentiments, 
 and your vigorous young lungs have already be 
 spoke your patriotism." 
 
 " You 're right there, Uncle Ben, we can lick 
 any other country on the face of the earth ! " piped 
 in a diminutive scion of the third generation, who 
 had insisted on coming to the feast accoutred from 
 head to foot in his new rough-rider's costume, and 
 who never hesitated to offer his comments upon 
 the topic of the moment. 
 
 Chesterfield smiled affectionately upon the small 
 interloper. 
 
 " Yes," he continued, " every one of you should 
 believe that our country is the strongest, the rich 
 est, the greatest in the world. I believe it, and I 
 always shall." 
 
 " Three cheers for Uncle Ben Chesterfield ! " 
 cried one of the young men, and again the rafters 
 rang. 
 
 "Your fathers and I have had our day," con 
 tinued the veteran newspaper man.
 
 404 THE CLAYBORNES 
 
 "No, no!" cried a dozen voices, " you 're still 
 as young as any of us." 
 
 " We are in spirit, but we have done our work. 
 We have struggled with the problems of our day ; 
 whether success or failure has been ours we have 
 done our best, and we now leave other and greater 
 problems for you to solve. The country is now in 
 the hands of a younger generation. You, with the 
 bone and sinew, with the spirit and enthusiasm of 
 youth, must hold the reins. If this country is the 
 most favored under God's sun, so much the greater 
 is your responsibility. 
 
 " My dear friends," continued Chesterfield ear 
 nestly and with emotion, a note of prophecy 
 sounding in his voice, "the destiny of nations 
 has called our country to the front ; for many 
 years to come the history of America is to be 
 the history of the world. May she make that 
 history worthy of her name ! May she be great, 
 not alone in commercial supremacy and foreign 
 conquest, but in the supremacy of great thoughts, 
 high ideals, and noble deeds, that the torch of Lib 
 erty may in truth light the whole world ! May each 
 one of you in the depth of his heart resolve to do 
 his utmost to make his country worthy of its place 
 among the nations of the world! This is the 
 trust which accompanies your inheritance. The 
 richest heritage a man can have is a birthright 
 in this republic. A grander patent of nobility 
 than any the old world can bestow is conveyed in 
 the five words, ' I AM AN AMERICAN CITIZEN.' "
 
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