3 1822 01312 4722
 
 (JNIV '-ITY OF 
 CAL.H N!A 
 
 SAN DIEGO
 
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 : His practised hand whirls his blade and sends it straight at tJie 
 bared and brawny throat before him." [See p. 281.]
 
 BETWEEN THE LINES 
 
 of 
 
 BY 
 CAPTAIN CHARLES KING, U. S. A. 
 
 AUTHOR OF "A WAR-TIMC5POt5lNG" ETC. 
 
 ILLUSTRATED 
 
 NEW YORK 
 
 HARPER & BROTHERS, FRANKLIN SQUARE
 
 Copyright, 1888, by HARPER & BROTHERS. 
 All righto rcnrvcd.
 
 ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 " HIS PRACTISED HAND WHIRLS HIS BLADE AND 
 
 SENDS IT STRAIGHT AT THE BAKED AND 
 
 BRAWNY THROAT BEFORE HIM " .... 
 " SHADING HER ETES WITH HER HAND, A YOUNG 
 
 GIRL STOOD" , . Facing page 2 
 
 "LIEUTENANT KEARNY HAS LEAPED FROM HIS 
 
 8TEED AND IS STANDING OVER HIM ". . . " 38 
 
 "TWO HORSEMEN RODE LIKE SHADOWY SPEC 
 TRES BETWEEN HIM AND THE STARS OF 
 THE NORTHERN SKY" " 48 
 
 " HALF - WAY DOWN THE STAIRS THE TALL, 
 
 FEEBLE SOLDIER HAD STOPPED " . . . . " 84 
 
 " THERE, BOWING, SMILING, SCRAPING, STOOD 
 
 OLD NELSE " " 104 
 
 "FALCONER SPRANG UP AND KEENLY SCRUTI 
 NIZED THE MISTY LINE OF ROAD" ... " 110 
 
 " THE NEXT INSTANT A TALL FIGURE BURST 
 THROUGH THE HEDGE CLOSE BY HER SIDE 
 AND STOOD SILENTLY BEFORE HER*'. " 164
 
 IV ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 "AS FOR THE STRANGER HIMSELF, HE BENT 
 OVER THE FLAMES, TOTALLY INDIFFERENT 
 TO THEIR SCRUTINY OF HIS PAPERS, AND 
 SEEMINGLY INTENT ONLY ON TOASTING HIS 
 
 HANDS" Facing page 202 
 
 "WHEN THE ADJUTANT RETURNED AT THE AP 
 POINTED TIME HE FOUND THE VIRGINIAN 
 SEATED AT A LITTLE WOODEN TABLE " . . " 240
 
 BETWEEN THE LINES. 
 
 SHADING her eyes with a slender white hand, a young 
 girl stood gazing eastward over a broad and beautiful 
 landscape. The sun was fast sinking behind the wood 
 ed heights at her back, and throwing long shadows 
 over the green carpet of the lawn. It was a picturesque 
 old place, that Virginia homestead. The house was 
 large, two storied, with broad central hallway and heavy 
 wings ; dull red brick showing here and there through 
 the thick veil of vines ; a wide and sheltered piazza 
 with white wooden railing and chubby balusters; a 
 broad flight of steps leading down to the circular drive 
 way, and flanked by white buttresses ornamented with 
 big florid vases of the same material and ponderous 
 pattern as the sturdy little squat balusters that sup 
 ported the railing. No plants or flowers blooming in 
 the vases to-day, and this not the only evidence of a 
 neglect that was perhaps inevitable. The drive itself 
 was furrowed here and there with gullies made by re 
 cent rains. The line of demarcation between flower 
 bed and lawn had long since become blurred in the 
 encroachments of the thick grass or swifter creeping 
 plants. Poultry, too, had taken advantage of the re- 
 1
 
 2 BETWEEN THE LINES. 
 
 laxation of domestic discipline, and were making them 
 selves at home ; the hens " dusting" in various concavi 
 ties of the roadway, scooped out, unrebuked, by their 
 busy claws, while two or three blear-eyed chanticleers 
 were paying court in, grandiose style, as though con 
 scious of the fact that, as natives of Virginia, a degree 
 of dignity and suavity of mien must be observed which 
 should distinguish them from the " dunghills " of com 
 monwealths less favored. The big gate at the front 
 hung heavily on its rusting hinges, and no sign of 
 wheel track marked the drive. The fence, too, that 
 showed here and there through the hedge of rose 
 bushes, was lacking a paling in more places than one, 
 and the old Newfoundland, that had just come lazily 
 in from a scout in the red roadway beyond, had availed 
 himself of one of these openings in preference to the 
 broader one where the path led through the gateway. 
 But the trees were beautiful in their graceful shape 
 and luxuriant foliage; the air was soft and still and 
 clear; the sunshine warm and radiant, and the view 
 from the piazza one that no man could look upon and 
 forget. The old house stood on the eastern slope of a 
 range of heavily wooded heights. Eastward the woods 
 and fields fell away almost abruptly for a hundred 
 yards or so, and then, like the falda of the western 
 Sierras, glided into almost imperceptible gradations as 
 they joined the general contours of the surface that 
 stretched in alternate field and forest until bounded by 
 the distant heights along the horizon. All across this 
 twenty-mile-wide valley the shadows of the silvery 
 clouds were slowly sailing. Northward it narrowed,
 
 " Shading her eyes with her hand, a young girl stood."
 
 BETWEEN THE LINES. 3 
 
 and was flanked by bolder heights and sharper curves. 
 The woods were darker too, and the little farmhouses 
 peeping out here and there in the sunshine were 
 brighter by contrast. Southward, three or four miles 
 away, was a dusty high-road, with what looked like a 
 railway embankment alongside, leading through open 
 country to a little patch of houses perhaps eight or 
 nine miles to the southeast. There it joined another 
 high-road, broad and dusty too, for great clouds of 
 reddish - tinted mist were rising high and betraying 
 its line of direction even after it was lost in the thick 
 woods beyond the hamlet. 
 
 It seemed to bear straight away over intervening 
 swell and shallow, dipping here and there into the 
 bed of some little stream, until it reached the upland 
 slope far to the east, and found its terminus in the 
 clump of white houses that glistened in the sunshine 
 on the distant heights of Centreville. The white, 
 gleaming dots upon the dark background were plainly 
 visible to the naked eye here at Hopeville. 
 
 Beyond the first hamlet the ground began to rise 
 towards the southeast, and a great bare plain could be 
 dimly seen through rifts in the dust clouds that rose 
 from the highway a plain that was overhung by a 
 pall of smoke rising from the unseen fires of a recent 
 conflagration. 
 
 All the night before the skies had been lurid with 
 the glare far over there above Manassas, and there had 
 been excitement and anxiety and enthusiasm all com 
 mingled at the old homestead. No one slept, for 
 every little while there came hoof-beats along the
 
 4 BETWEEN THE LINES. 
 
 road and animated voices, and frequently the riders 
 had turned in at the open gateway, thrown themselves 
 from their panting steeds, exchanged a few jubilant 
 words with the venerable master of the house, par 
 taken of the unfailing Virginia hospitality, and then, 
 remounting, had pushed on through the gloom. Soon 
 after sunrise other visitors had come, but these the old 
 man would not see ; and the tall lieutenant in the 
 uniform of the Union cavalry who spurred so con 
 fidently into the yard, rode laughing away to join his 
 men who had halted without the hedge, and the only 
 one with whom he had exchanged a word was the 
 young girl herself. At her he looked back more than 
 once as his escort went clattering away, and finally he 
 bared his handsome head and bowed low over the 
 pommel of his saddle unmistakably to her. 
 
 Brief indeed was the visit of this little scouting 
 party of blue jackets, but all the rest of the morning 
 she could see the dust clouds rising along the distant 
 pike, and long lines of cavalry skirmishers pushing up 
 towards the great gap four miles down the range. 
 Then there had been the booming of guns at Thoro'- 
 fare, and the old man's . battered telescope had told 
 them that the fluttering guidons far to the south were 
 falling back before the cannon, and then that those were 
 the Stars and Stripes waving above the battalions of 
 dark infantry deploying to the support of the troop 
 ers ; and a neighbor galloping by shouted that the 
 Yanks were "tryin' to shet off Longstreet. Might's 
 well try to squelch hell." And then there came the 
 sound of a bugle close at hand, and the negroes, with
 
 BETWEEN THE LINES. 5 
 
 bulging eyes, ran in to say the mountain road was just 
 swarming with soldiers ; and surely enough the open 
 fields a mile to the southeast were soon alive with 
 horsemen and long gray lines pushing steadily down 
 upon the distant ranks of blue ; and then there had 
 been an hour of wild jubilee on the piazza, as the Un 
 ion forces were seen slowly gathering in their clouds 
 of skirmishers and slipping out from the threatened 
 envelopment of their right flank. Slowly and stub 
 bornly they were retiring but retiring beyond all 
 question towards the little hamlet on the Warrenton 
 pike, and as they went, so advanced and developed 
 the long dusky lines under the red field and blue St. 
 Andrew's cross. When five o'clock came the Union 
 division, with its cavalry accompaniment, was far over 
 towards the southeast ; no more gray columns were 
 striding out from Hopeville Pass ; the brigades that 
 threatened the Union flank had halted, gone into 
 bivouac, and were building little fires down in the 
 timber a mile or so away, while a whole division 
 tramped out into the open fields in front of Thoro'fare, 
 and the batteries trotted down and took their places 
 in the brigade intervals as line of battle was reformed. 
 Then the old man shut his telescope with a snap, and 
 worn out with long hours of excitement and vigil, 
 possibly, too, slightly overcome by the combined ef 
 fects of enthusiasm and apple-jack, he was easily per 
 suaded to go to his room for a sleep. 
 
 But his daughter remained at her post on the piazza. 
 She would not go for anything. The guns had 
 ceased their thunder close at hand, but now, far ovef
 
 6 BETWEEN THE LINES. 
 
 to the eastward, the dull booming of a heavier cannon 
 ade burst upon the ear, and, levelling the glass and 
 fixing it upon the dark woods that lay between the 
 hamlet on the Warrenton pike and those distant 
 heights of Centreville, the girl could see heavy clouds 
 of mingled dust and battle -smoke rising above the 
 trees. She shuddered slightly as she turned away and 
 spoke to a young woman a quadroon who stood si 
 lently by : " They are fighting over there, beyond 
 Gainesville, terribly, Hannah. It must be Stonewall 
 Jackson ; and yet they all said last night he was at 
 Manassas, and had captured everything there." 
 
 " I know that, Miss Lucy," was the answer, spoken 
 with a trace of the negro intonation and dialect ; 
 "but all day long the Federals have been marching 
 through Gainesville. Young Marse Anderson rode 
 by when you were with the judge in-doors; he said 
 there was thousands and thousands of them, and they 
 was going to try and surround him before General 
 Lee could get there to help him. Where is Marse 
 Henry now, Miss Lucy ?" 
 
 " God knows ! With Stuart somewhere. He can 
 not be far away, and yet he could not be near without 
 coming to see us. We have not set eyes on him since 
 last March. Nothing but those hateful Yankee uni 
 forms have I seen in the road until this blessed day. 
 Thank God for another look at the gray ! Thank 
 God !" she repeated, fervently, as she gazed with moist 
 ening eyes at the fluttering patches of color down in 
 the distant fields where here and there the St. Andrew's 
 cross waved above some battalion forming line. The
 
 BETWEEN THE LINES. 7 
 
 sun had sunk behind the ridge; twilight was settling 
 down upon the valley; the little bivouac fires glim 
 mered here and there in the timber, and far away over 
 the intervening lowlands, far over among the dense 
 woods to the north of Manassas, there still rumbled 
 the thunder of those sullen guns, and one broad clear 
 ing, faintly discernible through the glass, was lighted 
 by the lurid flash and glare of the incessant volleyings 
 of battling hosts. It was the evening of the 28th of 
 August, 1862, and the opening chorus of second Bull 
 Run. 
 
 Presently the now familiar sound of hoof-beats rap 
 idly advancing was heard upon the road without, and 
 two horsemen in gray uniform came at the gallop to 
 the gateway. The man in front tall, dark, slenderly 
 and gracefully made threw his reins to his follower 
 as he dismounted, and then walked, with clinking spurs 
 and trailing scabbard, straight across the lawn to the 
 house, an eager light in his eyes as he caught sight of 
 the girl standing there half hidden by the vines. She, 
 on the contrary, drew back slightly, and the sweet face 
 that had flushed with hope and anticipation as the 
 horsemen came in sight now paled a little as she recog 
 nized the arriving soldier. 
 
 He raised his broad-brimmed slouch hat as he sprang 
 up the steps, and held forth his right hand. His uni 
 form of gray with its sleeve-knots of gold was new 
 and rich; his sash and gauntlets and belts and riding- 
 boots all bespoke the " dandy " soldier; his face was 
 oval, clear cut, and handsome ; his eyes and hair dark; 
 he was a most presentable fellow in every sense of the
 
 8 BETWEEN THE LINES. 
 
 word, and the dark eyes had a gleam of gentle re 
 proach in them as he said: 
 
 " Have you. no word of welcome for me, Lucy ?" 
 
 " I am glad to see you, Captain Falconer," she an 
 swered, " and father will be overjoyed. You bring us 
 news of Henry?" she asked, eagerly, the soft violet 
 eyes searching his face for the first time in one quick, 
 sweeping glance, then falling again before the ardent 
 gaze in his. 
 
 " Not very late, I fear. I have not seen him since 
 the night before Stuart's dash on Catlett's Station 
 wasn't it glorious ? but I've heard of him, only yes 
 terday. He was carrying despatches 'cross country 
 to Longstreet, and the chances are he is with him or 
 General Lee over at Salem or White Plains this very 
 evening, and you'll see him early in the morning. This 
 is only our advance. But didn't we drive that Yankee 
 division back in style? You must have seen it all 
 from here. That is " and he turned and looked into 
 the gathering darkness from the south end of the 
 piazza "all except the fight close in by Thoro'fare 
 Gap. My squadron csjme within an ace of getting 
 two of their guns, and we did capture two prisoners 
 one of them a cavalry officer." 
 
 "What was he like?" she asked, with interest. 
 " There was one here this morning, scouting; he 
 said" 
 
 " Yes, and he was just as handsome as he could be, 
 Captain Falconer," interposed the quadroon girl, show 
 ing her white teeth. 
 
 It was evident that Hannah had long been a priv-
 
 BETWEEN THE LINES. 9 
 
 ileged character at the homestead, and also evident 
 that the captain totally disapproved of her remarks. 
 He ignored her entirely. 
 
 "This young fellow seems to be one of Buford's 
 cavalry. I hardly fancy he is the man to be scouting 
 these roads by himself. It takes nerve and pluck to 
 separate one's self from the main column in these 
 days. You never know what you may meet in this 
 part of Virginia." And it would seem as though the 
 young captain desired her to appreciate the risk he 
 ran in coming to see her. "I suppose the country 
 has been full of Yanks for months past." 
 
 " Ever since you fell back from Manassas last March; 
 but they rarely come up here. We are miles off the 
 beaten tracks, and have hardly been disturbed at all. 
 Captain Falconer," she said, suddenly, " I know you 
 want to see father, but he is sleeping now. He was 
 awake all last night, for of course we were wild with 
 delight and excitement at seeing our soldiers once 
 more, and hearing of Jackson's splendid march. Do 
 come in and let me offer you some refreshment, and 
 bid your orderly take the horses around to the barn. 
 I think old Nelse has still a little forage hidden away, 
 though our horses are gone. Then you shall tell me 
 all about what has been going on. I am wild to know. 
 See how dark it is growing, and yet they are still fight 
 ing over yonder. God be with us !" 
 
 " Amen to that ! but I'm anxious. Jackson is all 
 alone in there somewhere with only some twenty-five 
 thousand men, and the Yanks must have a hundred 
 thousand all around him by this time. I begged the
 
 10 BETWEEN THE LINES. 
 
 general to let me take my squadron and ride over 
 there and find out how things were going, but he re 
 fused. He said the country was full of Yankee cav 
 alry, but I warrant we could have got through. Tell 
 me about the party here this morning. Did they at 
 tempt any insolence?" and he twirled his mustache 
 fiercely. 
 
 "Not at all. Only this officer entered the gate. 
 He was very polite, and merely asked if this was 
 Judge Armistead's, and on my saying yes, he asked 
 to see him. Father declined, and sent word to him 
 that he could conceive of no possible reason why he 
 should request an interview. Hannah brought the re 
 ply, and also a mandate that I should come in at once, 
 for meantime we had entered into conversation." 
 
 "I thought you were a loyal Virginia girl, and hated 
 a Yankee." 
 
 " I am loyal to my state and to my people, Captain 
 Falconer, as you very well know," answered Miss 
 Armistead, with flashing eyes. "His remarks were 
 merely complimentary to the beauty of the neighbor 
 hood in general, and to old Hector there in particular. 
 He seemed to admire the dog more than anything 
 about the place." 
 
 " Even its fair young mistress ?" 
 
 "Even its young mistress," she answered, flushing 
 with evident vexation at the tone of the inquiry. 
 
 "And did he introduce himself? I take it for 
 granted he made some overtures." 
 
 "He did. He begged pardon for intruding; said 
 his orders required him to see if the family were still
 
 BETWEEN THE LINES. 11 
 
 residing here, as it was known that this was the home 
 of Captain Henry Armistead, of the th Virginia 
 Cavalry. I replied that I was proud to say it was; 
 and then he startled me by saying that he had known 
 him well three years before, and gave his name Lieu 
 tenant Kearny, of the New Jersey Cavalry. I was so 
 surprised at what he told me of having known Henry 
 that I couldn't say another word. Then he rode 
 away." 
 
 Falconer's eyes gleamed with an angry light. "I 
 know well who he is. They were at college and in 
 the same class, and it was that same Kearny who rode 
 through our lines at Cedar Mountain two weeks ago 
 and carried off Frank Pegram and Eustis as prisoners. 
 By Heaven ! my men would give their souls to catch 
 him, and if I run across him in this campaign 'twill be 
 his last ride in Virginia. Why, Lucy, he was your 
 brother's guest a week at Richmond only two winters 
 ago, and now he is an invader of the state whose hos 
 pitality he accepted. Which way did they go ?" 
 
 "Down that very road; but he turned off eastward 
 at the lane. He said he must ride in search of Gen 
 eral McDowell. That was one of his divisions down 
 there at the gap." 
 
 " Yes Rickett's division, the prisoners say. But if 
 Mr. Kearny cut 'cross country eastward, I don't envy 
 him his reception. He must have run slap in among 
 Jackson's people, and if so, Libby will get him, not I." 
 
 Just then there came other hoof-beats, and a pant 
 ing steed galloped up the wood road and into the open 
 gate. Another moment, and a tall young officer,
 
 12 BETWEEN THE LINES. 
 
 also in Confederate gray, leaped from the saddle and 
 bounded lightly up the steps. Miss Armistead start 
 ed forward ; then with a joyous, half-articulate cry 
 threw herself into the stranger's arms. For a mo 
 ment they were clasped in each other's embrace ; he 
 kissing her rippling hair and smooth white forehead ; 
 she sobbing with excitement, relief, and gladness on 
 his breast. At last, as she raised her tearful eyes to 
 look at him, he inquired, " How's father ?" 
 
 "Well; sleeping just now, but he'll be wild to see 
 you, Harry," she sobbed, still clinging to him. " Now 
 let me go. I'll run and wake him." 
 
 Then the tall, dark soldier stepped forward from 
 the shadows, holding forth his hand. "Welcome 
 home, Armistead," he said. 
 
 The younger man started slightly, then, recovering 
 himself, replied, in a tone that utterly lacked cordiality, 
 
 " Oh ! is that you, Falconer ? I hardly thought to 
 see you here."
 
 II. 
 
 LIEUTENANT KEAKNY had indeed turned eastward 
 on reaching the lane indicated by Miss Armistead, but 
 it was early in the morning, and before he had marched 
 more than a mile in that direction his attention was 
 arrested by the sight of distant troops of horse far 
 down towards the railway. It was a matter of but a 
 moment's work for his escort to tear down a rail-fence 
 or two and enable the party to make a short-cut south 
 ward across the intervening fields. In half an hour 
 the lieutenant was in presence of the cavalry com 
 mander, and making his report; no Confederate troops 
 were in sight from Hopeville Gap, but heavy clouds 
 of dust were rising from the road west of Thoro'fare, 
 and it was evident that strong forces were advancing 
 from the direction of Salem and White Plains. The 
 general listened attentively, was silent a moment, and 
 then replied: 
 
 "That accords with the reports from our advance. 
 We have a regiment and some light guns at the Gap 
 already, but can hardly hold it against Longstreet's 
 whole corps. Which way were you going, sir ?" 
 
 " Back to find General McDowell. He sent me up 
 from Buckland Mills last night. I reported to your 
 adjutant-general as I passed the brigade, sir."
 
 14 BETWEEN THE LINES. 
 
 " He must be somewhere about Gainesville now, and 
 I understand that the whole army is directed to con 
 centrate on the Junction. Jackson was there last 
 night, as I suppose you know. Look yonder !" And 
 General Buford turned in his saddle and pointed off 
 to the southeast, where dense clouds of black smoke 
 were rising high in air above the well-known plateau. 
 " Have your men had coffee, or anything to eat ?" 
 
 " Nothing since supper last evening, general." 
 
 " Well, halt here awhile. Your own regiment is 
 deployed out there at the front just at the Gap but 
 my people here will give you all the coffee you want. 
 There is no use in riding after General McDowell yet. 
 Wait an hour or so and you'll have something to tell 
 him." 
 
 Gladly enough Lieutenant Kearny led his little party 
 into a grove near the road-side, and gave the order to 
 dismount and unsaddle. Meantime the cavalry com 
 mander with his staff pushed on towards the dark pass 
 through the rugged heights to the west. Already a 
 brisk and rapid fire of small-arms could be heard ring 
 ing among the rocks. Then, as the rattle of carbine 
 and rifle continued and increased, the cavalry trumpets 
 along the pike could be heard repeating some signal 
 from the head of the column, and the dust-covered 
 squadrons ambling placidly by took up a jingling trot, 
 and presently the rearmost went obliquely off the road 
 and through the open fields to the south. Then the 
 hoarser notes of a battery bugle were heard blaring 
 from the rocky hill-sides, and the bang, bang of the 
 three-inch rifles and the shriek of flying shells were
 
 BETWEEN THE LINES. 15 
 
 added to the clamor. Kearny's eyes kindled at the 
 sound. 
 
 " Old Buford's right !" he said to a staff-officer who 
 had dismounted to tighten his saddle-girth. "There 
 will be something to tell McDowell, and in less than 
 an hour, too. Hurry up with your breakfast, men." 
 
 In much less than an hour an aide-de-camp came 
 galloping down the road and reined in at sight of 
 the little party of troopers already " saddled up " and 
 standing at their horses' heads, while their chargers 
 were busily cropping at the scant herbage. 
 
 " Is this Lieutenant Kearny ?" asked the aide. 
 
 " Ay, ay. What's wanted ?" 
 
 " General Buford wishes you to ride at once to Gen 
 eral McDowell, and tell him that Longstreet's whole 
 corps is at the Gap and deploying to attack. You 
 can leave your escort here to rejoin their regiment, 
 but take an orderly with you. The road is open back 
 of you, and Stuart nowhere near. That is, so far as 
 we know," and the aide-de-camp grinned. 
 
 " I understand," was Kearny's quiet answer. " But 
 as I left Hopewell this morning I could see cavalry 
 crossing the open fields over towards Sudley Springs, 
 north of the pike. I counted at least three regiments 
 through my glass. Who were they ?" 
 
 "None of ours, you can bet and Stuart likely 
 enough. He was at Manassas last evening. You'll 
 have to keep your eye peeled, young man. Good-day 
 to you. Lord ! hear those guns ! If we had Mc 
 Dowell's whole corps here I doubt if we could hold 
 those fellows. They know every rabbit track in those
 
 16 BETWEEN THE LINES. 
 
 hills, confound them !" And with this outspoken trib 
 ute to the efficiency of the foe the aide clapped heels 
 to his horse's flanks and went sputtering back to the 
 front. 
 
 Directing the sergeant in command of the little de 
 tachment to report forthwith to the adjutant of the 
 regiment with the entire party, Lieutenant Kearny 
 mounted and trotted off towards the distant hamlet of 
 Gainesville. His own horse was in prime condition, a 
 capital, mettlesome fellow, and he himself was an ac 
 complished horseman. The " mount " of his escort, on 
 the contrary, was jaded from the fortnight of hard 
 marching, scouting, and skirmishing that had followed 
 Cedar Mountain, and when he came to look them over 
 he did not see one that seemed fit for a rapid ride. He 
 started, therefore, on his mission all alone. 
 
 For the first mile he met the inevitable stragglers 
 from the command, some of them hastening forward 
 to rejoin their squadrons, others lounging by the road 
 side in evident disinclination to march to the sound of 
 the guns. Every moment the cannonade at the Gap 
 seemed to increase in fierceness; but little by little, as 
 he rode southeastward, the wind carried the sound 
 away from him, and by the time he caught sight of 
 the roofs of Gainesville the roar had died into a faint 
 and almost inaudible rumble. Far down to the south, 
 where lay the broad turnpike to Warrenton, he could 
 see the dust clouds mounting high in the sultry air, tell 
 ing of marching columns that he knew to be the Union 
 forces hastening eastward to carry out Pope's jubilant 
 and hopeful order to " bag the entire crowd." Daring
 
 BETWEEN THE LINES. 17 
 
 and wellnigh reckless as Jackson had ever been, never 
 yet had he essayed so perilous a move as this, by which 
 he had marched entirely around the right and rear of 
 the Union army, and swept down upon their trains and 
 supplies at Manassas. Now, separated a full day's 
 march from Lee and Longstreet, he was known to be 
 lurking somewhere among the dense forests north of 
 the Junction, and Pope had launched Sigel, McDowell, 
 Heintzelman, Reno, Phil Kearny, and Porter to hem 
 him in, head him off, and overwhelm him before relief 
 could possibly come. Just how many men he had, no 
 one within the Union lines could tell. Anywhere 
 from thirty to sixty thousand was the estimate, and 
 the Union force was big enough to handle either 
 number. Young Kearny's heart beat high with hope 
 as he trotted rapidly eastward. He was an ardent 
 patriot, an enthusiastic soldier, a born cavalryman; 
 and all through the campaign his energy and enthusi 
 asm had won the admiration and praise of his superiors. 
 Just after Cedar Mountain, while in command of a 
 troop out on picket duty, he had made a dash on a 
 Confederate outpost while it was occupied by a recon 
 noitring party, and had borne off two distinguished 
 young Virginians as prisoners, not without a sharp 
 fight and the loss of three of his own men; but the 
 exploit had made him famous in the cavalry brigade, 
 and Bayard himself had ridden down to shake his 
 hand and congratulate him. An envied man was 
 Kearny from that day, but a popular one withal, for 
 with high health, high spirits, and high social connec 
 tions, without a care in the world, he was also a gen- 
 2
 
 18 BETWEEN THE LINES. 
 
 erous and manly comrade whom all men warmed to, 
 and his face and form were such as women love to 
 look upon. 
 
 He was smiling to himself as he rode along, and 
 thinking of his odd adventure of the early morning. 
 " Only fancy my meeting Hal Armistead's sister in 
 such a way !" he thought. " She looked hostile enough 
 to freeze a man, and yet how sweetly pretty. I don't 
 think I ever saw a lovelier face. Halloa ! Who 
 comes here, I wonder ?" 
 
 Spurring rapidly towards him, his horse covered with 
 dashes of foam, an officer came riding at the gallop, 
 followed by a couple of troopers. As soon as he 
 sighted Kearny he lay back in the saddle and pulled 
 hard at the reins, gradually bringing his charger down 
 to a walk, and then signalling that he wished to speak. 
 Kearny reined in as they came together, and seeing 
 the silver leaves on the other's shoulder-strap, raised 
 his gauntlet in salute. 
 
 " Where are you from, sir, and where are you go 
 ing?" was the sharp question. 
 
 " From General Buf ord, with a message for Gen 
 eral McDowell." 
 
 " Look well to your left, then, as you go. Rebel 
 cavalry are in those woods off yonder. What news 
 from the Gap ! Is Longstreet there ?" 
 
 " In force, sir and fighting through when I left." 
 
 " Then you cannot get to the general too soon. I'll 
 push forward. You will find him somewhere about 
 Gainesville now, and take my advice get off this road 
 and go through the fields until you reach the Warren-
 
 BETWEEN THE LINES. 19 
 
 ton pike ; then turn eastward. It's a long way round, 
 but there's danger ahead of you. Who are you, may 
 I ask?" 
 
 " Lieutenant Kearny, sir New Jersey cavalry." 
 
 " Oh ! I'm glad to meet you, my lad. I've heard 
 of you before. Good-day again. I must hurry. Don't 
 forget about those rebs over there ;" and with that 
 the field-officer again rode on. 
 
 Kearny looked about him. Off to the south all the 
 fields were open, though crossed in many places by 
 the inevitable " snake " or rail fence that still remained 
 in those sections of the state where large bodies of 
 troops had not happened to camp. Anywhere within 
 three miles of a martial garrison, however, the fences 
 had long since gone as fuel. " It would not be diffi 
 cult to make a way through those fields and fences," 
 thought Kearny, " but even when I reach the Warren- 
 ton pike it will doubtless be crowded with wagons and 
 stragglers. I'll find myself miles behind McDowell, 
 and will have hard work to push through the crowd 
 and catch him. No ! I'll risk it and stick to the road. 
 It all looks safe enough off there to the left, and the 
 colonel said I could not reach McDowell too soon." 
 
 So communing with himself, the lieutenant drew 
 forth his watch, noted the time 8.45 and, with one 
 look at the caps of his revolvers, he pushed ahead at 
 a rapid lope. Off to the eastward his left front 
 the ground rose and fell in graceful undulations, open 
 clearings and cultivated fields, with here and there a 
 little patch of forest. Cavalry could be hidden among 
 those trees, to be sure, but the nearest groves seemed
 
 20 BETWEEN THE LINES. 
 
 full six hundred yards away from the high-road, and 
 with that much start no horse in Virginia could catch 
 him in a rush 'cross country. They might head him 
 off the beaten track, but that was the worst he antici 
 pated. Far away towards Sudley Springs, through the 
 openings among the trees, he twice fancied he saw lit 
 tle bodies of horse ; but there was no time to unsling 
 his glass and rein in and look. He had ridden a full 
 mile since leaving the staff-officer who stopped him, 
 and was trotting over a rise, when, down in the shal 
 low valley just in front, and not five hundred yards 
 away to the left of the road, he saw a sight that made 
 his heart leap up in his throat. A little knot of troop 
 ers, with broad-brimmed slouch hats and uniforms of 
 dusty gray, were watering their horses at a pool in 
 the brook that crossed the roadway from the south. 
 Another minute and one of them glanced up and saw 
 him. Before he had time to think, the whole party, 
 six in number, had clapped spurs to their horses and 
 came dashing down upon him. Kearny Avas no cow 
 ard he had showed the mettle of his race before now 
 but he felt his nerves quiver and his heart beat like 
 a hammer as he gave one quick glance around him. 
 It was possible to whirl about and retreat along the 
 road until once more he found himself within the shel 
 tering lines of Buford's cavalry brigade ; he might 
 tear down the topmost rail or two and then jump 
 " Ramapo " over the others, but both courses would 
 take him miles out of his way, and the message to 
 McDowell would be delayed or abandoned entirely. 
 Devoted soldier that he was, he reasoned with the
 
 BETWEEN THE LINES. 21 
 
 qtiickness of thought that that would never do ; then, 
 setting his teeth and gripping his revolver, he struck 
 spurs to his charger's flanks, and, to the amaze of the 
 attacking party, shot straight ahead down the slope 
 and across their very front. Instantly they opened 
 out, those who were farthest to the east veering to the 
 left in wide circle so as to strike the road in front of 
 him and head him off. Kearny bent low over his 
 horse's neck and urged him to his utmost speed, and 
 in less time than it takes to pen the line, despite the 
 yells of "Halt," accompanied by whistling pistol-balls 
 and a scattering volley of inelegant epithets, he whirled 
 beyond range of those who had headed straight for the 
 little rise, and the next instant was leaping the brook 
 down in the shallow flats just as two of his pursuers 
 cleared the low stone wall to his left and came dash 
 ing into the road, one in front, the other behind him. 
 " Halt ! halt !" were the yells, and then bang ! bang ! 
 went both pistols, but with no apparent effect on 
 either horse or rider. Bang ! went his own trusty 
 Colt as he flashed by the venturesome trooper who 
 had leaped in front of him, and in another moment, as 
 he raced up the slope on the eastern side of the brook 
 and glanced over his shoulder, he could see that his 
 shot had taken effect in the trooper's horse. Already 
 he was down on his knees and his rider springing off. 
 Reaching the crest of the gentle rise, Kearny found 
 himself unpursued, the troopers wisely abstaining from 
 the chase of such a runner as " Ramapo ;" so his rider 
 reined him in, and, stopping a moment, shouted back 
 his laughing defiance at the disconcerted knot of foe-
 
 22 BETWEEN THE LINES. 
 
 men down by the brook. The wounded horse had 
 by this time rolled over on his side, and his late 
 rider was bending sadly over him. They looked up 
 a moment as Kearny halted on the ridge, full five hun 
 dred yards away, but paid no further attention to him. 
 The next moment, as he turned to resume his ride, 
 with Gainesville and the marching columns of infantry 
 only a mile or so ahead, he suddenly found himself 
 joined by a tall stranger, in civilian dress, who trotted 
 out of a little lane to the right, and who surprised him 
 with the quiet remark, 
 
 " You ride mighty well for a Jerseyman !" 
 
 "How did you know I was a Jerseyman?" asked 
 Kearny, suspiciously. His breath was still coining 
 fast and his heart beating heavily. 
 
 " I've seen you before," was the reply, " and seeing 
 you were in for a scrape here, I rode across to help 
 you out. You didn't need it, though. That's a fine 
 horse of yours, lieutenant." 
 
 " The horse is all right, but I want to know who 
 you are, and how it happens a man in civilian dress 
 is riding about here between the two armies ?" was 
 Kearny's natural inquiry. 
 
 " I am in the service, and on a mission as important 
 as your own. You are carrying despatches, I pre 
 sume ?" and the stranger eyed him closely. 
 
 " Service ! What service ? See here, my friend, 
 if you are in the military service you ought to know 
 enough to prove your identity. "What duty are you 
 on?" 
 
 "Scouting," was the laconic answer. "And here's
 
 BETWEEN THE LINES. 23 
 
 my credentials," he added, slowly, as he lugged from 
 an inside pocket a small flat package done up in oiled 
 silk. " I am in the secret service, and know every inch 
 of this country hereabouts." 
 
 " All right. I don't want your papers. I've no time. 
 Was General McDowell in Gainesville when you left 
 there?" 
 
 " I didn't leave there." 
 
 " Where did you come from, then ?" 
 
 The stranger smiled. 
 
 " Never mind, lieutenant ; I see you're in a hurry 
 and want to get on. Give my respects to General 
 McDowell when you see him, and tell him to look out 
 for that Gap up yonder. And you take my advice : 
 Don't you go fooling round these roads alone another 
 time ; and the next visit you pay to Judge Armistead 
 and that pretty daughter of his, you take a powerful 
 big escort with you, and watch out for a Captain 
 Falconer." 
 
 And before Kearny could recover from his astonish 
 ment or ask another question, the stranger had shifted 
 a quid of tobacco in his jaws, leaped his raw-boned 
 horse over a low fence to the left of the road, and 
 then went loping easily over the fields in the direction 
 of Aldie Gap.
 
 III. 
 
 LATE that August afternoon Lieutenant Keamy, 
 with an officer of McDowell's staff, was seated in the 
 shade by the Warrenton pike, their horses being held 
 a little distance away by the aide-de-camp's orderly. 
 A singular hush had fallen upon the scene. The broad 
 thoroughfare was almost deserted; the clouds of dust 
 had settled back to earth, powdering the beautiful 
 foliage as they fell ; the birds were twittering and 
 piping among the leaves, and in the enclosure just to 
 the west of them the garden of a Virginia homestead 
 three or four hound puppies were chasing each other 
 through the long grass and romping about the neglect 
 ed flower beds, while their mother, lolling on the broad 
 wooden piazza at the head of the flight of steps, 
 watched them with an expression of benevolent inter 
 est that was barely proof against an overpowering 
 sense of drowsiness. Some bees were droning about 
 the rose bushes close at hand, and adding to the som 
 nolent effect of the late afternoon sunshine ; the air 
 was still, and not a leaf rustled in the tree-tops. Far 
 off to the west, towards Thoro'fare, a dull booming of 
 distant guns could be heard from time to time. Mc 
 Dowell had sent a whole division of infantry to sup 
 port the cavalry in barring Longstreet, while he, with
 
 BETWEEN THE LINES. 25 
 
 his other division, after marching through Gainesville 
 and up the pike a mile or so, had turned off into the 
 wood roads leading towards Manassas Junction, where, 
 at last accounts, Jackson was supposed to be. 
 
 It was just at the point where this road left the pike 
 and meandered away through the trees that the staff- 
 officer and Lieutenant Kearny had dismounted and were 
 resting. The general had ordered the former to remain 
 there to direct any stray bodies of troops that might be 
 coming up from the southwest, and to receive reports 
 or messages coming from the Gap. To the latter he 
 had given instructions to wait for orders he would 
 probably have some word to send to General Buford. 
 Together, therefore, the two had ridden with the corps 
 and division commanders until they reached the fork 
 of the roads, and then had watched the fine division, 
 with its four full brigades, as it tramped in solid col 
 umn into the winding forest aisles. Then Kearny 
 threw himself on the turf at the foot of fi, tree, and 
 with his saddle blanket for a pillow, went sound 
 asleep, and was oblivious of all surrounding objects 
 for three or four hours. He was aroused by a lively 
 conversation between the staff-officer and some one 
 who had just arrived from the west. He heard his 
 comrade say, " You had better ride right on towards 
 Manassas. Follow this wood road and you'll find the 
 general ahead there somewhere. He ought to know 
 this at once." 
 
 " What's the news ?" asked Kearny, sitting up and 
 rubbing his eyes. 
 
 " Buford and Ricketts are falling back from Thoro'-
 
 26 BETWEEN THE LINES. 
 
 fare. The Rebs have pushed a column through a gap 
 farther to the north, and flanked them." 
 
 " That must be Hopeville Gap, where I was this 
 morning. What time is it now ?" 
 
 " Nearly five, and you've had quite a nap of it. It's 
 the quietest day and the most peaceful neighborhood 
 I've seen in a month. Not a sound of war except that 
 dull booming off at Thoro'fare. What can our peo 
 ple be doing around Manassas, do you suppose ? Sure 
 ly it is time we heard of Jackson." 
 
 " I can't imagine," said Kearny, sitting up, and 
 brushing off the dust with the cuff of his gauntlet. 
 " One might suppose we were on a summer picnic. 
 Have no orders come for me ?" 
 
 "Nothing nor for me. The trains are back at 
 Gainesville, but a lot of beef cattle were sent through 
 here two hours ago. McDowell halted the division in 
 there on the Manassas road, and they have stacked 
 arms and gone to cooking. A division aide brought 
 "me word that McDowell had gone on to find General 
 Pope, and that we were to accompany the division 
 when it moved. But it's still there. The rear bri 
 gade isn't more than half a mile from us, so I decid 
 ed to stay here. I sent the horses down to water 
 an hour ago, and got a feed for them. Aren't you 
 hungry ?" 
 
 " Not just now. Where would we get supper if I 
 were ?" 
 
 " In the woods with the division. I know every 
 body at headquarters, and they would gladly welcome 
 you. Here comes one of them now. What is it, cap-
 
 BETWEEN THE LINES. 27 
 
 tain?" he asked, as an officer came riding hastily tow 
 ards them. 
 
 " Orders just come from General McDowell. The 
 division is to get back on the pike at once and march 
 to Centreville. They say Reno and Kearny have 
 driven Jackson up there, and that we've got him this 
 time sure. Hatches brigade is just filing out on the 
 pike now, up at Pageland Lane, just east of here you 
 can see them from the rise yonder and Gibbon's fol 
 lows. Good-bye. I must hurry back to the general." 
 
 In a moment Kearny and his friend were in saddle 
 and trotting eastward up the pike. At the crest of 
 the " rise " just referred to they came in sight of a 
 sweep of road leading straight away through a slight 
 depression and over another crest a mile distant. Over 
 this second ridge the head of a long, compact, blue 
 column was trudging, the setting sun throwing heavy 
 shadows across them where the trees hung close to the 
 roadway on the northern side, and flashing from the 
 barrels of their Springfields at every opening. Put 
 ting spurs to their horses and taking advantage of the 
 little " dirt roads " that wound among the trees on 
 the south side of the paved highway, the two offi 
 cers speedily reached the head of column the senior 
 riding up to and entering into conversation with the 
 brigade commander, the junior taking his place among 
 a group of the staff in their rear. In this order they 
 passed the division general and his staff, who had 
 halted under the trees to watch the return of the bri 
 gades to the pike; in this order, too, they slowly as 
 cended a gentle slope of the road, passing on their
 
 28 BETWEEN THE LINES. 
 
 left a dense grove of large trees, and on their right a 
 thick and impenetrable wilderness of forest growth 
 and underbrush. Almost at the very crest the grove 
 to their left abruptly ended, and there to the front 
 opened out a broad and beautiful landscape. Far to 
 the northeastward, the range of heights on which lay 
 Centre ville and Chantilly; midway, the beautiful, un 
 dulating valley through which wound the stream al 
 ready so well known Bull Run ; half-way to the 
 fringe of trees that marked the distant windings of the 
 run, a road crossing the pike at right angles and dis 
 appearing among the forests a good two miles distant. 
 Directly at the left hand, north of the pike and sepa 
 rated from it by the remains of a " snake " fence, an 
 open undulating field, that rose very gently towards 
 the north for two hundred yards, then sank in almost 
 imperceptible slope into a long, hollow swale, and rose 
 again in slope as gradual until it reached a line of 
 forest spanning the fields from west to northeast 
 a full mile away. Well over to the northeast the 
 trees seemed to follow a mathematically regular curve 
 around the crest of the slope, and Kearny could see 
 the staff-officer pointing thereto and saying something 
 about a railway embankment. Three hundred yards 
 in front of the head of column was another little 
 ridge over which the highway led, straight away as 
 ever, then a long, gradual descent to a little clump of 
 houses, where the cross-road and a brook seemed to 
 intersect the pike at the same point. Beyond these 
 and off to the south of the highway some heavily 
 wooded and jagged heights, one of them shorn of
 
 BETWEEN THE LINES. 29 
 
 timber on the crest; beyond these, a distant high pla 
 teau, where an old brick farmhouse could be seen 
 perched on the summit and surrounded by a garden 
 and little patches of fruit-trees. The general half 
 turned in his saddle and pointed thither. 
 
 " Gentlemen, that is Groveton down there ahead of 
 us, and off beyond is the battle-field of a year ago 
 Bull Run." 
 
 And now, how peaceful the scene ! Over all that 
 broad stretch of country not a warlike object was in 
 view. Behind them, to be sure, came the dark, dense 
 columns of the Union division, swinging steadily for 
 ward through the darkening highway. Out on those 
 open fields all was one blaze of warm, mellow sun 
 shine; not a moving, living object anywhere except 
 the buzzing swarm of insects, or lazily flitting bird 
 crossing from the grove to find his nest in the denser 
 foliage to the south. Far to the rear a regimental 
 band had suddenly struck up a joyous, spirited quick 
 step, and the men in the leading battalion began to 
 chaff their musicians and urge them to " pitch in and 
 blow those Western fellows out." Riding to one side, 
 the brigade commander gazed eastward through his 
 field-glasses. 
 
 " Odd !" said he, " I thought certainly we should 
 see something of Sigel or Reynolds from here, but 
 there is not even a dust cloud this side of Stone 
 Bridge. It must be that they are all well over tow 
 ards Centreville by this time, and that Jackson has 
 been driven before them. Certainly there isn't a soul 
 in sight hereabouts."
 
 30 BETWEEN THE LINES. 
 
 " General !" called the staff captain, suddenly. 
 " Look off yonder; there's a battery !" and he pointed 
 straight to the north straight across the mile-wide 
 undulation of open field to some dark objects that were 
 faintly discernible at the edge of the forest. The 
 general fixed his binocular upon them a moment, 
 shook his head, and replied, " Only cattle," then 
 rode forward again to the head of column. Kearny 
 started to follow, but " Ramapo " suddenly lifted his 
 off fore-foot and refused to budge. Dismounting quick 
 ly, the lieutenant found that he had picked up a piece 
 of stone and that the shoe was started. It took some 
 little time to pry out the offending flint and to tack 
 on the loosened shoe. When he remounted, the rear 
 of the leading brigade was just crossing the crest 
 towards Groveton, and the head of column of the sec 
 ond brigade toiling up the ascent in the shade of the 
 deep grove on the northern side. Glancing across the 
 fields to the north, he saw a sight that made his pulses 
 bound. The " cattle " were moving slowly out from 
 the shadows of the distant forest in marvellous and 
 military order six parallel columns of twos equidis 
 tant from each other, and coming out upon the slope 
 with a red pennon fluttering by the side of the west 
 ernmost. Repressing his impulse to shout, he sat there 
 on his horse silently pointing out his discovery to the 
 chief of the second brigade, a tall, slender, wiry man, 
 with keen steel-blue eyes and soldierly face a man 
 who took one quick glance at the distant objects and 
 their long shadows on the sward, and exclaimed, 
 " Coming ' in battery,' too ! Ride back, and bring
 
 BETWEEN THE LINES. 31 
 
 up the guns quick !" he ordered, and an aide-de-camp 
 whirled about and dashed for the rear of column. 
 
 Sheltered by the bank to its left, the leading regi 
 ment still trudged sturdily ahead, its gray-haired colo 
 nel sitting farmer fashion astride an easy-going old 
 horse. He glanced inquiringly at the general as he 
 passed, but the latter, up on the bank, was absorbed 
 in watching the distant battery. A moment more and 
 the head of column reached the top of the incline and 
 came up level with the open fields. The glistening 
 rifles showed above the low rail-fence, and at the same 
 instant Lieutenant Kearny marked the distant guns 
 whirling around with the precision of machinery, and 
 then white jets of sulphur smoke belched forth from 
 the opposite slope, and something came shrieking 
 through the skies several somethings and before 
 the report of the guns could reach them the woods 
 rang with the sudden crash of bursting shells, and the 
 air was filled with hurtling, whirring fragments of 
 iron. " Ha- alt ! Front ! Load at will ! load !" 
 came the shrill order from the old gray-haired soldier 
 at the head of the leading regiment. Quick as his 
 word, the sets of fours had stopped and sprung into 
 line, facing to the left; down came the iron-shod gun- 
 butts with heavy thud upon the ground; swarthy, 
 dust-begrimed faces peered out from under the visors 
 with flashing eyes as hundreds of hands tore open the 
 heavy boxes and raised the ready cartridges to the 
 teeth. Not a word was spoken as eagerly they poured 
 the powder into the gleaming barrels; and then, how 
 the rammers flash in the stray gleams of sunlight and
 
 32 BETWEEN THE LINES. 
 
 the bullets are rammed home ! Some men's hands 
 must tremble a little at such times; a few drop their 
 percussion-caps, but those who are thoughtless enough 
 to stoop and pick them from the dust become instant 
 targets for the rebuke of the line of file-closers. Bang ! 
 crash ! go more shells bursting overhead, and whir-r-r-r 
 come the fragments to earth. " Lie down close to 
 the bank !" is the next order, and in a moment the 
 eye gazes along a perspective of dusty knapsacks and 
 blankets. Bang ! bang ! again, closer overhead this 
 time. " They're getting our range," whispers a young 
 lientenant to his captain. " Hi ! here comes the bat 
 tery !" 
 
 Up from the rear, with cracking whips and plung 
 ing steeds, cannoneers racing along beside the wheels, 
 gun-carriages bounding over the rocky road-bed, old 
 Battery " B " comes thundering into action, greeted 
 with cheers by the regiments it dashes by. " This 
 way ! this way !" shouts a staff -officer, indicating a 
 break through the rail-fence just at the crest, and 
 there the leading gun whirls sharp to the left and 
 goes trotting out into the open field; its caisson fol 
 lows; then the next gun, and the next. "Forward 
 into battery !" is the shouted order repeated down the 
 column; the bugle blares its signal; the rearward 
 teams go tugging obliquely out across the field; gun 
 after gun gains its place upon its alignment with the 
 blood-red guidon at the right, and long before the last 
 one is in line the first section has opened fire and the 
 assailing battery is answered by the resonant thunder 
 of the " light twelve " pounders.
 
 BETWEEN THE LINES. 33 
 
 Meantime Kearny has galloped to the brigade com 
 mander, asking to be employed, and telling him al 
 most in the same breath that it was across these very 
 fields he saw cavalry moving early that morning. 
 
 " I know," replies the general. " Follow me, colo 
 nel," he calls to the commander of the second regi 
 ment in his column, halted directly in the shelter of 
 the grove. " It's one of Stuart's cavalry batteries, 
 and we'll nab it." Almost at double-quick the long 
 column of eager faces and dusty blue uniforms plunges 
 into a dark wood path that winds through the grove, 
 following loyally the lead of their general. Louder 
 grows the roar of the guns of the Union battery, 
 fiercer is the shriek and crash of the Southern shells 
 as their flight is lowered to suit the range. Four 
 minutes' brisk jog-trot brings the general, with his 
 little knot of staff -officers, to the northern edge of the 
 grove, and then as they look eagerly towards the rebel 
 guns across the lowland they are surprised to see an 
 other battery trotting out on the slopes east of the 
 first one, and, starting up from the very bosom of the 
 earth, springing like the warriors of Cadmus from the 
 sown dragon's teeth, there leap into view at sound of 
 the bugle a long line of gray skirmishers not three 
 hundred yards away. Far to the left and right they 
 extend, covering the whole front of that opposite for 
 est, stretching their hostile rank midway between the 
 warring batteries, but sheltered from their fire by the 
 hollow in which they had been so skilfully concealed. 
 " Forward your men, colonel. Drive back those skir 
 mishers," is the order, and the advancing regiment 
 3
 
 34 BETWEEN THE LINES. 
 
 deploys the instant its leading files are clear of the 
 wood. Forward they go, running into line; and 'tis 
 full time for that slender rank of gray to fall back 
 before these overwhelming numbers; but they do not 
 budge. On the contrary, ping ! ping ! ring their rifles 
 in obedience to a stirring peal ; the color-bearer of 
 the battalion wavers, then plunges heavily forward on 
 his face; a corporal throws down his rifle, and, seizing 
 the color-lance, waves the standard high in air; then, 
 with sudden simultaneous crash, a volley of flame, 
 smoke, and hissing lead leaps from the very bosom of 
 the ground not five hundred yards away; a whizzing 
 hail of bullets over the heads of the skirmishers on 
 the low ground tears its way through the long blue 
 line, and here and there men fall heavily forward or 
 limp painfully out of ranks, but never an inch does 
 the battalion yield, though in that one instant it finds 
 itself face to face with the line of battle of a whole 
 brigade. Up from the earth it springs, barred battle- 
 flags and all; one instant it halts to align its gallant 
 ranks, then forward it comes to sweep the Yankee 
 regiment out of existence. Still no order is given; 
 the officers look anxiously around to know the reason 
 why, and there lies their colonel, bleeding, among the 
 weeds. The lieutenant-colonel runs to him, gives one 
 quick look in his senseless face, then shouts, " Com 
 mence firing !" Crash go the rifles all at once aimed 
 full upon the advancing line. It halts, reels, staggers 
 an instant; down from the forest edge sweeps a 
 second brigade in support, out from behind the bat 
 teries comes a third, and in five minutes the whole
 
 BETWEEN THE LINES. 35 
 
 broad slope is alive with yelling ranks of gray, sweep 
 ing in perfect order down upon the slender line in 
 front, waving over their heads in wild defiance the 
 blood-red field and blue St. Andrew's cross. 
 
 And still, as though rooted there, with men falling 
 thick as leaves, that one blue regiment holds its ground. 
 Out from the grove, hurling away knapsack and blank 
 et in their eagerness to join in the fight, two comrade 
 battalions come tearing to the rescue, ranging them 
 selves in line to right and left of the first. " Double- 
 quick," was the order, but run was the response. 
 Breathless but eager they reach their place even as 
 the old gray-headed colonel, far down to the right, is 
 heard advancing his men in line of battle. No wait 
 ing for orders to fire now. It is every man for him 
 self fast as he can reach the line. Some standing, 
 some kneeling, a very few lying down, the second 
 brigade is there to a man, and every mother's son of 
 them who is not yet sore stricken is fighting his best 
 and fighting Stonewall Jackson's whole right wing. 
 There, halted on the opposite slopes and marvelling at 
 what Jackson calls the " obstinate determination " of 
 the Union men, five brigades of Confederates the 
 flower of the Southern force are volleying at that 
 one command of four Western regiments. Ewell, 
 Taliaferro, Stark, are there. " Old Stonewall " him 
 self, sitting on his sorrel at the edge of the woods, 
 peers across the blazing, smoke-wreathed field from 
 under the visor of his worn cadet cap. Half fronting 
 to their right, the rebel batteries drive shell and case- 
 shot down upon the thin blue line, while the gray bat-
 
 36 BETWEEN THE LINES. 
 
 talions hasten forward, reinforce their foremost rank, 
 and " double up " with their rapid fire. It is desper 
 ate, stand-up, hammer-and-tongs work, and neither 
 side will yield an inch. The third brigade of the 
 Union column is hastening forward in r support, but 
 they are still on the pike full quarter of a mile away. 
 The situation is more than trying. Hundreds of the 
 gallant blue line have been shot down in their tracks; 
 and now cavalry can be seen twinkling out at the 
 left front just as the sun sinks down behind the dis 
 tant mountains. " Stuart's men, of course," says the 
 general to Kearny as he looks anxiously about him. 
 " By Heaven ! I must have supports on that flank; 
 half my men are gone already." Ay, here they come 
 parallel columns of blue striding up from the pike. 
 But by this time the Southern force is so strengthened 
 from its rear brigades that once more it surges for 
 ward upon the thinned and wellnigh exhausted line. 
 Closing in on their colors, the Union men have left 
 huge gaps between the battalions, and, seeing these, 
 the Southern leaders urge on their ranks. Too late, 
 gentlemen, too late ! Almost at the same instant New 
 York and Pennsylvania have swarmed into the gaps 
 between Indiana and Wisconsin. Their cool, fresh 
 rifles add new uproar to the volleying; the second line 
 of Confederates crowd up to the support of the first, 
 and off to the right the field-officer commanding one 
 of the hardest-fighting battalions on the line, seeing 
 his front uncovered for a moment as the advancing 
 brigades close up their bleeding ranks, rings out an 
 order that is heard above the crash of musketry;
 
 BETWEEN THE LINES. 37 
 
 and, though astonished, his men cease firing for the 
 moment, and then are sent at double-quick, " chang 
 ing front forward on tenth company," and in another 
 moment are pouring a rapid and telling fire on the 
 flank of the charging lines in gray. It is a glorious 
 move. " Look at the Seventh ! Hurrah for the Sev 
 enth !" ring the cheers along the line; while the shouts 
 and shots and uproar seem to redouble as the South 
 erners are seen crumbling away under such savage 
 fire. Every moment it is growing darker; the distant 
 batteries have ceased their fire for fear of landing 
 shell and case-shot among their own people; but they 
 manage to drive a dozen rounds into the right flank of 
 that daring battalion before it slowly retires to its old 
 place in the line. The volleys grow redder and red 
 der, the opposing ranks more and more blurred and 
 indistinct; little by little the fire slackens, and at last 
 only an occasional sputtering shot is heard; and still 
 those worn and bleeding lines stick to their ground, 
 grimly, defiantly confronting each other. Not until 
 black darkness settles down upon the bloody field does 
 either side deign to withdraw. Then, slowly and sul 
 lenly, without noise of any kind, the regimental com 
 manders post a thin veil of skirmishers along their 
 fronts, and, facing their men to the rear, move them 
 cautiously a few hundred yards away, stack arms, and 
 send out details to gather up the wounded. Nearly 
 one half of that gallant Western brigade is killed 
 or maimed. Scores of favorite officers, hundreds of 
 brave and patriotic men, have fought their last fight; 
 and on the other side, where those dim lanterns are
 
 38 BETWEEN THE LINES. 
 
 twinkling over the field, there has been equal loss. 
 Grim old Ewell's leg is gone; Taliaferro is wounded; 
 a dozen field-officers are killed or placed hors de com 
 bat, and one daring young Virginia captain, riding 
 about the heaping field in performance of some duty 
 for his corps commander, comes groping beyond his 
 lines, and the flash of a lantern reveals those gray 
 sleeves heavily laced with gold right in among our 
 skirmishers. He whirls about and claps spurs to his 
 horse, disdaining the order to dismount and surrender. 
 A shot rings out on the night air, the horse plunges, 
 staggers, then goes prone to earth, grinding the rider's 
 leg beneath the saddle. Before he can extricate him 
 self from his predicament, Lieutenant Kearny has 
 leaped from his steed and is standing over him. Two 
 soldiers rush up with levelled bayonets, but Kearny 
 warns them off, and orders one to hold the struggling 
 horse by the head. In another moment the South 
 erner stands erect, rescued, but a prisoner of war. 
 
 The division commander, with some of his generals 
 and a number of the staff, are gathered in a corner of 
 the old rail-fence back of the grove, when Lieutenant 
 Kearny appears before them with his captive. He is 
 the first officer brought in, and there is natural curi 
 osity to see him and hear what report he has to give 
 of himself. The general is his examiner, and his man 
 ner is as courteous and kindly as though the soldier 
 were one of his own command. " The fortune of 
 war," he says, " has placed you in our hands. You 
 are of Jackson's corps, I presume ?" 
 
 " I'm not," is the answer, sullenly.
 
 BETWEEN THE LINES. 39 
 
 " What then ?" 
 
 " I am on the staff of General Stuart." 
 
 " How are we to account for your being here in our 
 front with Jackson's command ?" 
 
 "You wouldn't have had to trouble yourself with 
 such a problem, sir, if my horse had not fallen on me," 
 is the answer. 
 
 " Where is General Stuart's command now, cap 
 tain ?" 
 
 " I should decline to answer if I knew, sir, but I 
 don't." 
 
 " We will not ask you where Jackson is," says the 
 general, with a sad shake of the head, as he thinks of 
 the losses sustained by his pet brigade, " but I would 
 like to know at what you estimate his force." 
 
 The prisoner eyes his questioner a moment, then 
 answers, " We count them at sixty thousand or as 
 good as that." 
 
 " Indeed ! We knew he was strong, but did not 
 rate him quite that high. Captain," he continues, 
 turning to his adjutant-general, " take this gentle 
 man's name and rank, and do the hospitalities of head 
 quarters, so far as you can. I have a despatch to 
 write. Is this Lieutenant Kearny ?" 
 
 " Yes, general," answers the young cavalryman, 
 saluting. 
 
 " I believe General McDowell expected to send some 
 word back by you to your brigade commander, who 
 is reported as out beyond Haymarket on the road to 
 the Gap. The general has gone, however, to join 
 General Pope, and if you prefer to return to your
 
 40 BETWEEN THE LINES. 
 
 command to-night you can do so, and I will ask you 
 to leave a despatch with General Ricketts as you go. 
 He is probably somewhere along the road between 
 Gainesville and Haymarket." 
 
 " I shall be glad to go, sir. They will not know 
 what has become of me in the regiment." 
 
 " Very well, then. The note will be ready in a 
 moment," and the general turns away. 
 
 His chief of staff, meantime, has offered the pris 
 oner a drink from his flask, and it is thankfully ac 
 cepted. By this time the Virginian is apparently 
 coming to the conclusion that his treatment is much 
 more courteous and considerate than he supposed 
 would be the case. His answer, therefore, to the next 
 question, though somewhat hesitating, is given in a 
 pleasanter tone of voice. 
 
 "Your name and regiment, captain?" 
 
 " I am Captain Falconer, of the th Virginia Cav 
 alry." 
 
 Kearny turns sharply in mingled interest and sur 
 prise. The words of the stranger whom he had met 
 in the morning " Watch out for a Captain Falconer " 
 are suddenly brought to mind. Can it be possible 
 that this is the man ? If so, what reason is there for 
 being especially on his guard against this by no means 
 ill-looking Virginian ? 
 
 " You stated that you were on duty with General Stu 
 art, captain," continues the adjutant-general; " where 
 and when did you last see him ?" 
 
 " You will have to excuse me, sir," is the answer, 
 given most courteously and with a pleasant smile. " I
 
 BETWEEN THE LINES. 41 
 
 am sorry to have to requite your hospitality in this 
 way, but I must decline to give any information as to 
 my commander and his movements. You know that 
 under like conditions you would do the same." 
 
 At this moment the division commander reappears, 
 a folded note in his hand. 
 
 " You can probably reach Gainesville unmolested, 
 Mr. Kearny," he says ; " our fourth brigade covers 
 the pike most of the way, but after that you must be 
 on the alert. It is my belief that Stuart's men are 
 scouting all the lanes and by-ways north of the road 
 to Thoro'fare Gap." 
 
 " I know they are, general," is Kearny's answer, as 
 he swings into saddle ; " they nearly got me this 
 morning as I was coming down from Hopeville. 
 Good-night, sir ; good-night, gentlemen ;" and the 
 lieutenant rides forth upon the crowded turnpike and 
 heads his horse for Gainesville. He has hardly dis 
 appeared in the darkness when the Virginia captain, 
 who has been gazing fixedly after him, turns to the 
 adjutant-general. 
 
 " May I ask that officer's name ?" 
 
 " That is Lieutenant Kearny, of the New Jer 
 sey Cavalry, and you are not his first prisoner, cap 
 tain." 
 
 " ~No, by Heaven ! There are men who would give 
 their eye-teeth to know just where he is this night;" 
 and, as though urged by an irresisible longing, he 
 turns and looks over to the northwest one quick 
 glance then, recovering himself, suddenly resumes 
 his nonchalant mien.
 
 42 BETWEEN THE LINES. 
 
 "I thought so," whispers the chief of staff to a 
 comrade. " Stuart must be in those woods in front 
 of Patrick's brigade. No doubt he is watching every 
 inch of the Gap road, too." 
 
 " If that be the case," is the reply, " young Kearny 
 will have to run the gauntlet to-night."
 
 IY. 
 
 LATE that night, threading his weary way along a 
 road blocked with wagons and straggling troops, Lieu 
 tenant Kearny rode out westward from Gainesville in 
 hopes of rejoining his own regiment and having a few 
 hours' sleep before dawn. He had delivered his de 
 spatch to the division commander, and received anoth 
 er which he was requested to hand to General Buford, 
 who was covering the front, so they said around the 
 headquarters tents, out beyond Haymarket. One aide- 
 de-camp said three miles; another said three quarters 
 of a mile; no one seemed to know exactly, and all of 
 the staff, having been in saddle, marching, fighting, 
 and running about the country since early dawn, were 
 now too sleepy and tired to lift their heads from the 
 ground on which they lay, rolled in their dusty blank 
 ets. A field-officer, charged with the duty of look 
 ing after the grand guards and pickets, assured him 
 that he would find the road " in the hands of our peo 
 ple" well out beyond Haymarket, and that Buford's 
 patrols and videttes held it beyond them almost to the 
 Gap. One or two divisions of Longstreet's corps were 
 already through, he said, and bivouacked in the open 
 fields just under the range. Stuart's people ? No. 
 He had seen or heard nothing of them. If they were
 
 44 BETWEEN THE LINES. 
 
 north of the pike they had all been called eastward 
 over towards Groveton, where all that heavy fighting 
 had been going on about sunset. Could the lieutenant 
 tell him anything about that ? The lieutenant could 
 and did. In point of fierceness and fatality there had 
 been nothing, he said, from the outbreak of the war, 
 to equal the combat he had witnessed that evening. 
 Now that the excitement of battle no longer sustained 
 him, and the darkness of night weighed heavily upon 
 his wearied senses, Kearny shuddered as he thought 
 of those long ranks of dead and dying, facing each 
 other along that rolling, undulating mile of open fields 
 where the battle lines had stood loading and firing for 
 two mortal hours, until nothing but the red flash of 
 musketry could be seen. 
 
 " Won't you let me send a sergeant and three or 
 four men with you ?" asked the field-ofl&cer, as, riding 
 together, they finally reached the outpost. " You will 
 be alone for a mile, perhaps, before you reach any of 
 Buford's people, and there's no telling what you may 
 run across along this road." 
 
 Kearny looked at the little party grouped in silence 
 under a patch of trees by the road-side. All seemed 
 weary and depressed after the long, long day of tramp 
 and the nervous strain of hours in line of battle. There 
 was something pathetic in the silence and subordina 
 tion with which they awaited his reply. Two of the 
 men had spread their blankets under a tree, and had 
 apparently just been relieved as sentinels, and were 
 about to lie down. They knelt there looking up at 
 the two mounted officers, and one of them muttered a
 
 BETWEEN THE LINES. 45 
 
 low word of expostulation, which the sergeant promptly 
 rebuked. They were infantrymen volunteers and 
 their duties were onerous enough already, thought 
 Kearny, without having to tramp out into the dark 
 ness and danger escorting every belated dragoon who 
 happened along. " No," he said. " Thank you, kindly, 
 major. * Ramapo ' and I pulled through here all right 
 to-day, and I think we can do it again. Some Reb 
 troopers tried to cut me off just about a mile from 
 here this morning, but we slipped by them. They 
 cannot see me at night, and we'll walk along soft as 
 a kitten. Won't we, old boy?" But '.'Ramapo," 
 though thus affectionately appealed to, did not rise 
 to the spirit of the occasion. With drooping head 
 and jaded mien he looked wistfully about in search 
 of possible shelter and refreshment, and did not even 
 prick up his ears in response to the encouraging slap 
 from his master's gauntlet. 
 
 "Now, good-night, sir," said Kearny, holding out his 
 hand, after a brief examination of his revolver cham 
 bers. "These caps seem all in good shape. I feel 
 that I must get to my regiment to-night, for they are 
 sure to be fighting at daybreak, and they don't know 
 where I am. Next thing I know they'll be reporting 
 me as captured, killed, or missing, and scaring my 
 home people to death. Thank you for coming so far 
 with me, and good-night again. Sergeant, keep your 
 ears open, and if I am driven back, be ready to back 
 them up in turn ;" and, waving his hand and touching 
 " Ramapo " with the spur, he rode slowly away into 
 the darkness, leaving a silent little group behind him.
 
 46 BETWEEN THE LINES. 
 
 There were no trees now on either side. The fields, 
 he knew, were bare and lying neglected. There was 
 no one to till them if crops could be raised, and there 
 were too many to sweep away the crop in case a strug 
 gling growth were effected. It was dark as pitch. He 
 could not recall a night so dark in his year of cam 
 paigning. Not a vestige of moon was there, though 
 here and there a faint twinkling star peeped through 
 rifts in the clouds, that seemed to have been drawn 
 like a veil over the face of the heavens, hiding from 
 celestial eyes the wof ul scene of this day's bloody work. 
 Earlier in the evening, as he rode into Gainesville, he 
 heard the mournful plaint of the whippoorwill in the 
 moist and misty aisles of the forest, but now a hush 
 had fallen on the broad, beautiful valley, and not a 
 sound disturbed the deathlike silence but the muffled 
 tread of his charger's hoofs in the deep, dust-covered 
 road. Such silence, following on such scenes and inci 
 dents as he had encountered through the day, is trying 
 to nerves long set on edge. A faint whiff of night 
 wind swept across the highway from time to time, 
 and he turned his head, hoping to catch the sound of 
 pawing hoof or the p-r-r-r-r-r of grazing horses on the 
 south side of the track. Only Buford's men would 
 likely be there; while, on the other hand, to the north, 
 he knew not how many foemen to expect. Stuart's 
 cavalry, Mosby's rangers, Turner Ashby's partisans, 
 any of these might be scouting the fields and trotting 
 through the wood roads above the pike and keeping 
 up communication between Longstreet's advance bri 
 gades in front of the two gaps, and Stuart and Jackson
 
 BETWEEN THE LINES. 47 
 
 over there to the northeast of Gainesville. Time and 
 again he reined in " Kamapo," fancying he could hear 
 muttered words or muffled hoof-beats over in that 
 direction, but after a few minutes of intent listening 
 would again push slowly on. Once or twice " Rama- 
 po's" hoofs struck some loose stone upon the road 
 with loud and startling click, and once this betraying 
 noise was accompanied by a sudden gleam like an elec 
 tric spark, as fliiit and iron clashed together. His sa 
 bre, too, swinging at the full length of its slings, clanked 
 occasionally against his spurred boot-heel, and he shoved 
 it between his leg and the saddle-straps to put an end 
 to its clamor. So moving, he had covered perhaps half 
 a mile without molestation of any kind, when, far out 
 to his front in the roadway, doubtless he caught 
 sight of a faint and sudden flash of light that he in 
 stantly divined to be the result of just such a clash of 
 flint and steel as caused the spark under " Ramapo's " 
 forefoot but a moment before. Horsemen ahead ! 
 Now for the question, who are they? Judging by 
 its feeble glow, that flash must have been nearly two 
 hundred yards away, and as yet no sound had reached 
 him. Again he halted " Ramapo " and listened, his 
 heart beating a little heavier. For a few seconds all 
 was stillness ; then, bending forward and with hand 
 at his ear, he could catch the faint beat of iron-shod 
 hoofs upon the dusty carpet of the road. "Ramapo" 
 heard it too, and began pricking up his ears, and there 
 was imminent danger of his bursting into a shrill neigh 
 by way of hailing his fellow-quadrupeds, when Kearny 
 leaped quickly from the saddle, caught his charger by
 
 48 BETWEEN THE LINES. 
 
 the nostrils, and led him to one side, down into the 
 ditch that just there ran along the road. It was so 
 dark that he could not see it at all, and both he and 
 his horse slid and stumbled as they groped their way. 
 There was an appalling rattle of his sabre as it clanked 
 against the stony brink, and he felt that he had splashed 
 into some water. This led him to the belief that he 
 must be down in the shallows where the brook crossed 
 the road. Perhaps it was here, close at hand, and 
 these troopers were coming down to water their horses. 
 If they were Btiford's men, all well and good; he could 
 soon tell by the muttered chat that was pretty sure to 
 be going on. If they were the enemy and they might 
 readily be, for it was just here they pushed their scout 
 ing parties in between the lines that morning then he 
 must lie perdu until they moved away, or else steal off 
 to the fields on his left hand, still holding "Ramapo" 
 by the nose. He could not mount and ride, because 
 the horse would be sure to signal to his fellows, now 
 approaching at a rapid and audible walk, and because 
 the railway, with its rough ties and parallel ditches, 
 lay between him and the open country to the south. 
 No, his best plan was to hold his ground until satisfied 
 who these midnight raiders might be, then make him 
 self known or crouch in hiding as they turned out to 
 be friends or foes. 
 
 Almost before he had succeeded in leading " Rama 
 po " out of the water and into a dry place where he 
 could not betray them by splashing, the sound of hoofs 
 crossing the little wooden culvert was heard; two horse 
 men rode like shadowy spectres between him and the
 
 Two horsemen rode like shadowy spectres between him and the 
 stars of the northern sky."
 
 BETWEEN THE LINES. 49 
 
 stars of the northern sky, and reined in just beyond, 
 while the rest of the party stopped at the brook to wa 
 ter. These two in front were evidently the extreme 
 advance or " outlooks " of a cavalry patrol, but in the 
 impenetrable darkness he could form no idea of the 
 uniforms or equipment. If they would only speak! 
 He knew the Southern intonation so well, the soft 
 elision of the r's, the modulation and inflections which 
 a harsher clime seems to have exiled from the North 
 ern tongue. He could hear the murmur of voices at the 
 brook-side, but not a word came from these drowsing 
 cavaliers in front. While one seemed intent on listen 
 ing for any sound towards Haymarket, the other waited 
 until he could hear the patrol once more advancing, 
 then turned eastward, and in ghostly silence the two 
 moved slowly away. Lost in the darkness perhaps 
 half a minute were these pioneers, then came others 
 in sight; muffled in cloaks or capes they seemed to be, 
 for the night was chill, and the two whose forms were 
 outlined in advance were talking softly with each oth 
 er; the rest, perhaps half a dozen troopers, were strung 
 out in column of twos behind their leaders, silent, and 
 doubtless sleepy. Kearny strained his ears to catch 
 the words that passed between the two horsemen at 
 the head- of the little troop as they came abreast of 
 him, but the hoof-beats and the clank of steel scab 
 bards were sufficient to render the voices indistinguish 
 able. Suddenly one of the leaders threw up a shadowy 
 hand, and his voice, low and muffled, was heard. 
 
 "Steady! halt!" 
 
 Far out to the front from the darkness in which 
 4
 
 50 BETWEEN THE LINES. 
 
 the pioneers had disappeared some one whistled soft 
 and clear. The patrol stood motionless in the road 
 way a moment, listening. No further signal came; 
 all was silence. 
 
 "What's the matter?" finally queried a deep voice, 
 hardly above a whisper. 
 
 " Don't know," was the muttered answer. " Corpo 
 ral, just ride out yonder and see what they want." 
 
 Kearny crouched lower, and kept his iron grip on 
 "Ramapo's" nostrils. The soft drawl, the languid 
 intonation, the long-drawn "yawnduli" were enough 
 for him. No man of Buford's brigade sat on those 
 spectral steeds not ten paces from the New Jersey 
 cavalryman. Those were " Rebs," and out on one of 
 their daring scouts along the Union lines. 
 
 Presently the corporal came trotting back. " You 
 can see the camp-fires from where they are, lieuten 
 ant," he reported. 
 
 " Well, we want to see 'em. Whut 're we hyah 
 faw?" is a faint imitation of the next remark that 
 reached the attentive ears of Lieutenant Kearny. 
 " C'mawn, men !" and the leader of the little troop 
 would have started but for a restraining voice a voice 
 that startled the hiding Jerseyman almost to the verge 
 of losing his grip on his horse's nose. 
 
 " One moment, lieutenant. Between here and their 
 lines the fence is intact on both sides of the road. At 
 least it was when I came across two days ago. We 
 are now just midway between Buford's outposts and 
 those main lines. If one of Buford's patrols should 
 come along while we are east of this point there might
 
 BETWEEN THE LINES. 51 
 
 be difficulty in slipping out. He has patrols in every 
 direction to-night, and, much as I would like to pick 
 up some courier or staff-officer with despatches, I don't 
 want to sacrifice the whole platoon. Our nearest sup 
 ports now are more than a mile away, and it is not 
 worth while to move from here." 
 
 " I thought you wanted to get close in to their lines, 
 Captain Armistead," said the junior. 
 
 " Not if it place us in a cul-de-sac. It is open to our 
 rear now, but there's no saying how soon we may have 
 to fight a patrol. I must have heard at least four since 
 leaving Hopeville at dusk." 
 
 " That man Falconer go back to Thoro'f are ?" asked 
 the junior, after a moment's silence. 
 
 " Captain Falconer left before I did," was the reply, 
 in a somewhat distant tone. "I understood that he 
 was to return to his squadron at once. Know him 
 well ?" he questioned, with no lack of interest in the 
 inquiry. 
 
 " Know him well enough to say I don't trust him," 
 was the uncompromising answer. " Shall we stay here 
 on the road, or lead off to one side ?" 
 
 Already, mindful of what he had heard in the morn 
 ing and the peril of his present situation, Kearny was 
 striving noiselessly to lead " Ramapo " over the soft 
 ground until, in the darkness, he should gain the rear 
 of the party, then he could mount and away. His 
 cavalry instincts told him that two or three members 
 of the platoon must be some hundred yards behind 
 them up the road, watching for anything that might 
 come from the west, but he believed that they would
 
 52 BETWEEN THE LINES. 
 
 never suspect him to be other than one of their own 
 party until he reached them, then he must trust to 
 surprise, darkness, and " Ramapo's " heels. His arm 
 and hand were wellnigh exhausted now from the long 
 struggle to " gag " the excited horse. If he could only 
 hold out a minute longer ! If only there should be no 
 stones, no stumble ! If only the sabre would not clank ! 
 Ah ! a plunge, a snort, a rattle of gravel down the 
 slope, a scrambling of hoofs, a desperate leap and 
 spring, a fierce and sudden chorus of " Who goes 
 there?" "Who goes there?" "Halt!" "Jffalt/" 
 " Head him off, men !" A sputter and crash of scores 
 of iron-shod feet, the rattle of steel, the click of a doz 
 en revolvers, then a flash and loud report, another, an 
 other! and "Ramapo" is plunging headlong down 
 into the running brook, rolling heavily, crushingly, 
 upon a prostrate and senseless rider. 
 
 There are anxious hearts in the bivouac of Buf ord's 
 men when morning dawns and gallant Frank Kearny 
 is still reported missing.
 
 V. 
 
 ANXIOUS days were those that followed the first 
 grapple of Pope and Jackson along the famous old 
 Warrenton turnpike. Darkness had put an end to 
 the initial conflict ; darkness had shrouded from the 
 watchers at Hopeville Gap all sign of the tragic scenes 
 and weary marches of the night, but early morn found 
 them again at their station on the piazza, the old judge 
 with his telescope, his pale and sweet-faced daughter 
 kneeling by his chair. Brief indeed had been the visit 
 from devoted son and brother the evening before. He 
 had been led to his sleeping father's side, and soon the 
 three father, son, and daughter were absorbed in 
 the joy of their reunion and engaged in eager talk. 
 Rapidly as possible the young soldier told them of the 
 situation of affairs, and their hope that Lee and Long- 
 street would be able to join hands with Jackson early on 
 the coming day, and beat the Yankees back or cut them 
 off from Washington. He was eager, enthusiastic, con 
 fident. Every officer and man, he said, had most im 
 plicit faith in Lee ; and as for Jackson, the enthusiasm 
 with which his "foot cavalry" followed him on the 
 most daring flanking moves was something no words 
 could describe. " But it looks ugly to-night," he con 
 tinued, with an anxious glance eastward, where the
 
 54 BETWEEN THE LINES. 
 
 guns were still booming, and the distant flashes could 
 be seen in the gathering gloom. "The Yanks seem 
 to be crowding all around him, and I've got to hurry. 
 Stuart is on his right, and I'll doubtless meet some of 
 our patrols before I get half-way across." Cautioned 
 by his father to look out for Federal cavalry, whose 
 main body was known to be on the road to the lower 
 gap, he answered that they were simply holding the 
 line to Gainesville and Haymarket ; the direct road 
 from Hopeville over to Jackson was open, and scouted 
 only by Stuart's men. If all went well, he said, he 
 would be able to see them again within a day or two, 
 but he felt that he must rejoin his chief that night. 
 When the three went out upon the dark piazza it was 
 found that Captain Falconer had gone. 
 
 " His father and I were such warm friends that I 
 hate to think of his having gone away without a word. 
 Lucy, child > I hope you invited him in and gave him a 
 welcome." 
 
 " I did, father ; but Henry came just in the midst 
 of my words, and surely he will understand and ap 
 preciate that we did not mean to be discourteous ; he 
 knows we had not seen Henry since last March." 
 
 "And who was that Federal officer who rode in here 
 early this morning and said he knew Henry?" asked 
 the judge, with a frown upon his venerable face. 
 
 " Oh, yes, Harry ! Think of it ! A lieutenant of 
 
 cavalry who was scouting, he said, rode in and asked 
 
 to see father, who declined, and then he told me that 
 
 he knew you well had been in college with you." 
 
 % Captain Armistead was standing by his horse at
 
 BETWEEN THE LINES. 55 
 
 the moment, busily stowing away some packages of 
 home-made " rations " that Hannah had brought him 
 from the kitchen. " Old Nelse " was at the horse's 
 head, and his portly spouse had come forth from her 
 own dominions to see " young mars'r " on his way. 
 On one of the lower steps were the judge and Lucy, 
 side by side, his arm around his daughter's slender 
 waist; her arm uplifted and bearing a lantern whose 
 beams shone upon her sweet face and tinged the shim 
 mering gold of her hair. The young soldier turned 
 suddenly at her words, surprise and interest in his 
 eyes, but the question he would ask seemed checked 
 for the moment as he gazed up at the group before 
 him his father's silvered hair and noble features, his 
 sister's graceful form and girlish beauty, all illumined 
 by the rays of the battered old lantern, and shining 
 forth against the black background of the vine-shroud 
 ed piazza. With the blindness of brotherhood, never 
 until then had he realized how fair a woman she had 
 grown to be. 
 
 " Lulie," he broke forth after brief study of her 
 face, and hailing her by the old pet name of their 
 childhood, " I declare you're getting to be a tearing 
 beauty. Don't you be making eyes at any of those 
 fellows who come up here saying they're ' scouting.' 
 I know too much about that. There's no likelihood 
 of your seeing any more of the Yanks; but no flirting 
 with them, Miss Armistead, whatever you do. Who 
 was this fellow who rode in to-day ? Some of their 
 rear-guard, I reckon." 
 
 Her face had flushed with girlish delight at her
 
 56 BETWEEN THE LINES. 
 
 brother's involuntary tribute. Compliments from such 
 a source are rare in any household, and are worth their 
 face value wherever uttered. She hardly heard the 
 question that followed, and it was her father who 
 answered, 
 
 " He gave his name as Kearny, of the New Jersey 
 Cavalry." 
 
 " Frank Kearny ! Here /" exclaimed Armistead, as 
 though shocked and startled. He dropped the strap 
 from his nerveless hand, and turned suddenly away, 
 so that his face was hidden. "Are you sure he said. 
 Kearny, Lucy?" he queried, seizing again the strap 
 and striving to buckle down the flap of the saddle-bag 
 with fingers that bungled painfully at their work. 
 
 " I am sure he said Kearny, Harry," was her an 
 swer. " Who is he ? Why should it startle you so. 
 Were you at college together? Captain Falconer 
 spoke of his having been your guest in Richmond two 
 winters ago." 
 
 " How did he know of it ? Did you tell him of 
 Kearny's being here?" asked the captain, with deep 
 anxiety in his tone. 
 
 " I did, certainly. Why, what is there about him, 
 Harry ? Why should I not speak of it ?" 
 
 "No reason, really, except this was the Federal 
 officer who captured Pegram and Eustis down by 
 Cedar Mountain. You heard of it, did you not, fa 
 ther? And we have heard ugly stories of the way 
 they were treated not by him, but by their guards 
 while being sent to Washington, and the whole bri 
 gade is up in arms about it. I believe that Pope him-
 
 BETWEEN THE LINES. 57 
 
 self would not be so prized a captive as Frank Kearny. 
 And it is true, we were chums at college, and at one 
 time room-mates." 
 
 " I don't remember your writing of him," said his 
 father ; " that is, I remember the name, and it seems 
 to me you used to say something of him at first " 
 
 " We had a falling out during the senior year, fa 
 ther ; that was the reason. It was a foolish affair, and 
 all my fault, I suppose ; but we were estranged from 
 that time until we happened to meet at the Spotts- 
 wood one night late in the autumn of '60. Then we 
 shook hands, and the hatchet was buried." 
 
 " But Captain Falconer said he was your guest for 
 a week at Richmond," interposed Miss Armistead. 
 
 " Falconer exaggerates the case if he meant to inti 
 mate that he was especially my guest. I introduced 
 him at the club, and his own social qualities did the 
 rest. We were always on courteous and pleasant 
 terms when we met there, which may have misled 
 Falconer ; but not what we had been. There was a 
 matter that couldn't well be explained," and he turned 
 away again. 
 
 She was down in the roadway and at his side in an 
 other moment, twining her arm about his neck. 
 
 " Oh, Harry !" she whispered, "I know now. Miss 
 Paulding, wasn't it ?" 
 
 But he bent down and kissed her gently. " Hush, 
 little sister," he murmured ; " never mind the old sore. 
 I have a lady-love now that none can rob me of, and 
 yet the more rivals I have the better I like it. We 
 allude to her somewhat disrespectfully at times, Miss
 
 68 BETWEEN THE LINES. 
 
 Armistead," he said, with resumption of the gay cav 
 alier manner. " She has beaux without number this 
 summer, and we mean to proclaim her Queen of Beau 
 ty, Chivalry, and of these Confederate States of Amer 
 ica before another winter. I allude to ' Old Virgin- 
 ny,' Miss Armistead, one of whose fairest daughters I 
 have now the honor to salute in parting. God bless 
 you, little one !" he said, softly, tenderly, as he clasped 
 her in his arms. " Pray for us and the Star of the 
 South to-night. Now let me go." She was cling 
 ing to him, looking with tearful eyes into his brave 
 young face. He led her to their father's side, grasped 
 the old man's hand in both his one moment, then 
 with sudden impulse bared his head, bent and kissed 
 it as courtier might have kissed his sovereign's, then 
 sprang to his horse, swung lightly into the saddle, and 
 turned sharply away into the dim and shadowy vista 
 to the gate. Another moment and the hoof -beats 
 were dying away in outer darkness. 
 
 All that next day the sullen guns were booming at 
 intervals over in the valley of the Run. All the long 
 morning the dust-clouds rose dense and stifling over 
 the road to Gainesville, and through his ready glass the 
 old gentleman could catch occasional glimpses of the 
 marching columns and the red battle-flags fluttering 
 overhead. All the day from time to time patrols and 
 scouting parties of Stuart's men went riding by, some 
 times sending in an officer to ask a question or two, 
 or a man in search of water for the canteens. From 
 one and all the same report was received: "Every 
 thing going well. Lee and Longstreet were pushing
 
 BETWEEN THE LINES. 59 
 
 ahead to join Jackson and give the Yanks another 
 beating on the field where we thrashed them the year 
 before. It would all be settled by nightfall !" And 
 then the long afternoon wore away, and the roads 
 from the two gaps were cleared of troops, and the 
 dust began to settle back to earth, and the windows 
 in the little hamlet at the junction of the pikes to 
 gleam red in the rays of the setting sun ; and then, 
 just as the day before, the thunder of a fierce cannon 
 ade rumbled in the distance, and the faint roar of mus 
 ketry could be distinguished by the listening ear, and 
 the far-away forests were lighted up with a lurid battle- 
 glare ; and then again, just as suddenly, it died away, 
 and another restless, anxious night succeeded. Then 
 came the morning of the third day, and from sunrise 
 to darkness the old Virginian never left his post on 
 the piazza. The open fields to the north of Groveton 
 were distinctly in view, and there through the glass 
 he could see the charging lines in blue, reeling back 
 again and again before that fire-flashing embankment. 
 He could see long lines in gray filing into the forest 
 south of the broad turnpike, and being swallowed up 
 in the density of the foliage. Then late in the after 
 noon the distant crests of Bald Hill and the plateau 
 back of the old Henry house blazed with musketry, 
 and were soon shrouded from base to peak in clouds 
 of sulphur-smoke ; and then the little dots of red could 
 be seen peeping out here and there above the steadily 
 advancing lines in gray, and then through rifts in 
 the smoke they gleamed at intervals upon the slopes, 
 and ere long crest after crest was crowned with the
 
 60 BETWEEN THE LINES. 
 
 crimson, fluttering folds, and old Armistead, trembling 
 with enthusiasm and delight, could plainly see that the 
 St. Andrew's Cross was gaining everywhere ; and when 
 at last darkness intervened and shut the scene of tri 
 umph and victory from his tired eyes, his heart welled 
 up in audible prayer and thanksgiving as he clasped 
 his daughter in his arms. 
 
 " The Yanks are falling back behind Bull Run. 
 We've licked them everywhere," was the report 
 brought in to him late that night by a young trooper 
 who was riding up towards Aldie. " I saw the cap 
 tain just before dark, judge. He's all right; he'd 
 have sent some message if he'd known I was coming. 
 I didn't know it myself until just afterwards, when the 
 colonel told me to run up and see my folks. I live 
 over yonder on the Leesburg road, and I'm to join 
 'em at Fairfax to-morrow. Oh, we ain't goin' to stop 
 short of Washington this time, you bet !" and the 
 young fellow rode away. At the gate he turned. 
 " Say, judge, I passed a wagon down the road a piece, 
 with a wounded officer they're bringing here. You 
 might have got a scare, fearin' 'twas Captain Armis 
 tead. 'Tisn't, though. Good-night, sir; good-night, 
 Miss Lucy." 
 
 " Who can it be ?" asked the old man, turning anx 
 iously into the house. " Lucy, child, tell Hannah to 
 get that spare room ready at the head of the stairs. 
 We'll have to put him there. Can it be Falconer, do 
 you think ?" 
 
 " I cannot imagine who it is, father," she answered. 
 " Some one we know, undoubtedly, and some one,
 
 BETWEEN THE LINES. j 61 
 
 probably, who has been wounded near here though 
 there has been no fighting around us since day before 
 yesterday. Wait here and watch for them, and I'll 
 go with Hannah at once." 
 
 Barely ten minutes later there rode into the gate a 
 sergeant in the gray dress of Stuart's cavalry. Dis 
 mounting quickly, he sprang up the steps and handed 
 the judge a note. 
 
 " Judge Armistead," he said, in low tone, " my or 
 ders from the captain were to return immediately 
 after having handed you this, and having conducted 
 a wounded officer to your house. Yonder comes the 
 wagon, sir, and there are two boys with it, who, with 
 the help of Nelse and the others here, can carry the 
 gentleman into the house. Then they are to go back 
 with their team and wagon. Have you any message 
 to send, sir ? I shall be with the captain by morning, 
 unless our people march all night." 
 
 " Wait one moment, sergeant; let me glance at this 
 note first. Let me offer you some refreshment, sir. 
 Lucy !" he called. 
 
 " Pardon me, judge," said the trooper. " Don't 
 open it yet. Wait until I'm out of the yard. No 
 refreshment, thank you, sir. I must go at once." 
 
 The wagon, drawn by two venerable mules, was 
 slowly coming through the gate as the soldier sprang 
 again into saddle and was about to turn away. 
 
 " But, sergeant, who is the officer ? Is it Captain 
 Falconer ?" 
 
 " Judge Armistead," was the answer, " I would do 
 anything on earth for your son. He knows it, and
 
 62 t BETWEEN THE LINES. 
 
 this night has put me to the test. You ask me a ques 
 tion I cannot answer because I do not know. I do not 
 want to know I hope to God I never may know !" 
 
 And, turning sharply, he struck spurs to his horse 
 and rode away at a rapid trot, leaving the old man 
 and his pale-faced daughter standing there at the head 
 of the steps, dumb with surprise.
 
 VI. 
 
 MID-SEPTEMBER had come and gone. Lee, with his 
 enthusiastic followers, had crowded the Union lines 
 into the fortifications around Washington, then crossed 
 the Potomac, and found himself so crippled after the 
 desperate battling at the Antietam that he was com 
 pelled to fall back into the valley of the Shenandoah. 
 For the time being the beautiful sweep of country be 
 tween the heights of Centreville and the gaps in the 
 Bull Run Mountains was unobscured by the dust-clouds 
 of heavy marching columns or the smoke of thunder 
 ous battle. Heavy rains had roiled the streams and 
 bogged the Virginia roads, but there were no guns, no 
 heavily laden wagons, to stall at every brook or ford. 
 A silence as of desolation had settled upon the land, 
 for all the fields from Chantilly down to Manassas 
 were peopled only with the dead, and every slope and 
 pasture green was ridged with new-made graves. Over 
 on the broad plains about the railway junction other 
 freight-cars had appeared among the blackened ruins 
 of those destroyed by Stuart ; but the storehouses and 
 buildings were only charred stumps and scattered 
 ashes now, and the white tents and rude board shelters 
 hastily thrown together here and there were only tem 
 porary resting-places for hundreds of poor fellows
 
 64 BETWEEN THE LINES. 
 
 whose wounds were too severe to enable them to 
 travel. Stuart, with his bold raiders, was over near 
 Martinsburg, in the Valley, watching for the next 
 move of the Union force still halted on the hard-won 
 field at Sharpsburg. Every now and then, however, 
 little scouting columns of Virginia Cavalry came trot 
 ting over through the passes and taking a look at the 
 Union outposts in front of Washington ; then, scatter 
 ing here and there through the country roads, they 
 would disperse all over the broad valley east of the 
 gaps, and spend a few hours in cheery visits to the 
 homesteads from Aldie down to Warrenton, bringing 
 joy and delight to mothers, sisters, and sweethearts, 
 and all the time keeping wary watch and slipping 
 away just too soon to be caught by the Union horse 
 men, who were sure to come marching out from Fair 
 fax in pursuit. A strong garrison had ever to be kept 
 up in the fortifications in front of the National Capi 
 tal, and, out in advance of the earthworks, several 
 regiments of blue- jacketed troopers picketed all the 
 roads, occupied the neighboring villages, and, to use 
 the army phrase, " covered the front" against surprise, 
 and, when occasion offered, launched forth a column 
 in chase of raiders. And so it happened that while 
 the main bodies of both armies were gone long marches 
 away, and the guns no longer thundered, and the vol 
 leys no longer flashed, the by-roads and the fields were 
 often gay with the guidons of venturesome detach 
 ments of cavalry, and the soft autumnal air made 
 merry with the ringing trumpet-calls ; and one day 
 the worn and dingy gray uniforms would ride in amid
 
 BETWEEN THE LINES. 65 
 
 the acclamations of farmyards full of enthusiastic 
 women, and the next the doors and windows would be 
 banged shut at sight of the fluttering "stars and 
 stripes," then carried in the shape of swallow-tailed 
 pennons by every squadron of Union horse. Many a 
 lively little skirmish, many a stirring charge and chase, 
 did the troopers on both sides enjoy while thus having 
 this lovely and populous section of Virginia all to 
 themselves, and one of the regiments occupied on this 
 
 genuinely " cavalry " duty was the New Jersey, 
 
 Lieutenant Kearny's regiment ; but Lieutenant Kearny 
 had not been seen since the first night of the battle of 
 Second Bull Run. 
 
 Long since the reports had borne his name as " miss 
 ing." Anxious and influential relations from Trenton 
 and New York had hastened to Washington and be 
 sieged the War Department for particulars. All New 
 Jersey all the Union army was in mourning just 
 then for another, a greater Kearny, and in the shadow 
 of the bitter disasters that had befallen the nation it 
 seemed as though 
 
 " The black shroud of that night at Chantilly " 
 
 had indeed overspread all Union-loving hearts, and 
 there was no hope anywhere. It was some time be 
 fore even senators and representatives could bring the 
 military powers to energetic investigation, and mean 
 time a sorrowing mother lay wellnigh heart-broken at 
 home. Three weeks of vigorous prodding on part of 
 the Jerseymen resulted finally in the utter exhaustion 
 
 of all information to be had on the subject, and left 
 
 5
 
 66 BETWEEN THE LINES. 
 
 the inquirers more puzzled, more troubled, than before. 
 The last seen of Mr. Kearny was late on the night of 
 the 28th of August, when, all alone, he set forth on 
 the road from Haymarket to Thoroughfare Gap in 
 hopes of finding his regiment. In less than half an 
 hour the picket at which he had parted with the field- 
 officer of the day was alarmed by pistol-shots faintly 
 audible several hundred yards out towards the west. 
 A few minutes later a platoon of Buford's troopers 
 came clattering in to inquire what it meant. They 
 had scouted the road and found a dead horse near the 
 brook, but the horse equipments were all gone, and the 
 assailants had probably ridden off to the northward 
 bearing their prisoner with them. The horse was 
 identified as Lieutenant Kearny's the very next morn 
 ing, and it was regarded as a matter of course that he 
 had fallen in with some of Stuart's scouting parties 
 and been captured. 
 
 But, as luck would have it, two of General Stuart's 
 staff-officers were among the prisoners brought injto 
 Washington. One was Captain Falconer, of Warren- 
 ton, who courteously answered inquiries on the sub 
 ject by saying he was captured by Lieutenant Kearny 
 himself, at the close of the fight between Jackson's 
 men and the Union force west of Groveton. He 
 could, therefore, give no information with regard to 
 the matter. The other officer was an assistant ad 
 jutant-general who had ridden into our lines near 
 Vienna in the rain and darkness that followed Jack 
 son's dash on Chantilly. This gentleman said that 
 every prisoner, without exception, who had been capt-
 
 BETWEEN THE LINES. 67 
 
 ured on the 28th or 29th of August by any of Stuart's 
 men was brought before him and questioned by him. 
 He knew that no officer resembling the description 
 and photographs of Lieutenant Kearny had so ap 
 peared, and he felt equally certain that if killed by 
 Stuart's men in an attempt to escape capture, Mr. 
 Kearny's death would certainly have been reported. 
 It was the staff-officer's confident belief that Lieuten 
 ant Kearny had neither been killed, wounded, nor 
 captured by Stuart's men, and " no other Confederate 
 cavalry," said he, "was anywhere along that road the 
 night referred to." Confidentially, the Southern offi 
 cer expressed to the inquirers this theory : that the 
 lieutenant had come suddenly upon a small party of 
 his own people ; that in the darkness and confusion 
 each had taken the other for the enemy ; that Kearny 
 had been shot and killed by his own comrades and 
 then borne off and buried by them, and the whole 
 matter had been concealed for fear of punishment. 
 The Jerseymen were still persistent. Finding that 
 nothing definite could be learned in this way, they 
 were advised to call upon a certain gentleman once 
 high in government circles before the war, but an 
 avowed sympathizer with the South in the present 
 conflict. It was more than half believed that he had 
 means of communication with the authorities at Rich 
 mond and with the army of Lee, enjoyed, perhaps, by 
 numbers, of other residents of Baltimore and Wash 
 ington, but not by the War Department of the United 
 States. Those were strange times, and within a week 
 the Jerseymen were assured that no man answering
 
 68 BETWEEN THE LINES. 
 
 to the name or description of Lieutenant Kearny had 
 been or was now in the hands of the enemy. "I 
 speak advisedly, for he is a prize they would not over 
 look in Virginia, where Pegram and Eustis are not 
 forgotten." This was the report of their confidential 
 adviser. 
 
 And so, with October close at hand, Frank Kearny's 
 name was spoken as of one who had vanished from 
 the face of earth, no man could tell whither, and more 
 than one New Jersey home was filled, for his sake, 
 with mourning and with dread anxiety. Down among 
 the cavalry camps in front of Washington, too, they 
 talked in low tones and "wondered'* in many a chat 
 around the evening fires what possibly could be the 
 solution of the mystery. The regiment, of course, had 
 been informed of the theory advanced by somebody 
 that he had been killed in the darkness and buried in 
 dread of punishment by his comrades of some scout 
 ing party. This, however, was promptly and indig 
 nantly denied by every officer and man on scout that 
 night, and the most rigorous cross-examination and 
 investigation failed to discredit their statements in 
 the faintest degree. The affair, thanks to Kearny's 
 prominence and popularity in the regiment, as well as 
 to the interest kept up by this investigation, had be 
 come a cause cel&bre in the lines in front of Washing 
 ton ; and then, little by little, another story began to 
 be hinted at. 
 
 There had been from the very outset the usual 
 rivalry .between the few cavalry commands in the 
 Army of the Potomac, speedily followed by that devil
 
 BETWEEN THE LINES. 69 
 
 of jealousy that seems inseparable from human nature 
 
 in or out of the military service. While the New 
 
 Jersey gloried in Kearny's soldierly exploit and in 
 Bayard's handsome compliment at Cedar Mountain, 
 there were not lacking men in other regiments who 
 affected to "pooh-pooh" the whole affair, and who 
 strove on every possible occasion to belittle the par 
 ticipants. For a while none of the Jerseymen did 
 more than laugh at this, it was all so harmless and so 
 transparent. But in the long evening chats, and in 
 the leisure and "loafing" hours that followed the Au 
 gust campaign, some sneering remarks, alleged to have 
 been made by certain officers at brigade headquarters, 
 were brought in in that inevitably exaggerated form in 
 which such things are always told, and a good deal of 
 feeling began to be manifest about the camp-fires. 
 Most of the officers of the New Jersey were gen 
 tlemen by birth and education ; nearly all the old 
 families of the state were represented among them ; 
 but the officers of a cavalry regiment in the same bri 
 gade and from an adjoining state were chosen from a 
 very different class. That there should have been no 
 affiliation was natural enough ; but the Jerseymen 
 were utterly at a loss to account for the innuendoes 
 that presently reached their ears. Finally one warm 
 September evening there came an explosion. The ad 
 jutant had been over on some duty at the headquar 
 ters of the general commanding the defences along 
 that front, and came back fuming with wrath. 
 
 " Gentlemen," said he, striding in among the group 
 of officers chatting around the colonel's tent, and un-
 
 70 BETWEEN THE LINES. 
 
 ceremoniously interrupting their placid talk, " I have 
 just heard a story that reflects on the honor of the 
 regiment, and it is time we put a stop to this sort of 
 thing. We have stood it too long. It is my belief 
 that we should run down the author of these lies and 
 hold him responsible." 
 
 " What is the story ?" was the eager question. 
 
 "It is about Kearny. Th^se fellows over in the 
 'Dunghill Dragoons' have never ceased to sneer at 
 him and at us, as you know; but to-day Major Mer 
 rill, of the staff, told me that one of their officers in 
 formed him that he knew from indubitable authority 
 that, so far from being killed or a prisoner, Frank 
 Kearny had found a sweetheart over near Thoro'fare 
 Gap, and was hiding under the roof of her home at 
 this minute. I demanded the name of his informant, 
 and he gave it to me ; he said it was a story that we 
 ought to know, and trace -to its foundation. Captain 
 Mullane was the man; you all know who he is. Now, 
 who will ride over to their camp with me to-night, and 
 bring that fellow up to the scratch ? By Heaven ! he 
 must prove his words, or swallow them !" 
 
 Half a dozen young fellows were on their feet in a 
 moment ; but the colonel's restraining voice was heard, 
 calm yet authoritative. 
 
 " One moment, gentlemen. Resume your seats, if 
 you please. This is no matter for impetuous or hot 
 headed action. Of course, if Captain Mullane were to 
 make this statement to one of you, or to any one in 
 your presence, I could not find fault with your knock 
 ing him down on the spot I might find fault if you
 
 BETWEEN THE LINES. 71 
 
 didn't do so but this matter comes to us send-offi 
 cially ; the division chief of staff tells it to the regi 
 mental adjutant as something we ought to know. 
 Captain Chetwood, Mr. Stockton, order your horses 
 and be ready to go with me ; you too, Mr. Adjutant. 
 I will look into the matter at once." 
 
 An hour later four officers of the New Jersey 
 
 were at the camp of their comrade regiment and in 
 conversation with its colonel. As a result of their 
 communication Captain Mullane was sent for, and 
 presently appeared. He started and looked uneasily 
 around as he caught sight of the four visitors ; but it 
 was evident to all present that he had been drinking, 
 and was just sufficiently under alcoholic influence to 
 be ugly and truculent. In few words he was told of 
 the story laid at his door, and asked for his authority. 
 He stood unsteadily by the table in the colonel's big 
 tent, the light from the single lantern shining full 
 upon his coarse and bloated features as he looked 
 scowlingly about him, first at one, then another of the 
 four officers who were grouped in silence around his 
 commander. Finally he spoke : 
 
 " I did say it, an' I can prove it." 
 
 " By whom, sir ? You can have no personal knowl 
 edge of the matter." 
 
 " Well, I don't care to get any friend of mine into 
 trouble, and I don't mean to betray him the man 
 that told me, I mean." 
 
 " Captain Mullane," said his colonel, coolly, "I have 
 had more than one ugly matter to handle in this regi 
 ment durinsr the few weeks I have commanded it.
 
 72 BETWEEN THE LINES. 
 
 Your reputation as a mischief-maker Avas known to me 
 before I accepted the command. You and such as 
 you forced, through your political influence in your 
 state, the resignation of my predecessor, but it can 
 not touch me. Take your choice, sir. Give me in 
 presence of these gentlemen the full authority you 
 have for the scandal you have set afloat at the ex 
 pense of Lieutenant Kearny, or go to your tent in 
 close arrest under charges of conduct unbecoming an 
 officer." 
 
 For a moment there was silence except for the 
 stertorous breathing of the bulky captain. He glared 
 scowlingly around for a moment, looked furtively 
 into his colonel's impassive face, then thickly mut 
 tered, 
 
 " It's a letter." 
 
 " Produce it, sir." 
 
 Again he looked helplessly around, as though seek 
 ing some avenue of escape, again glanced at the unre 
 lenting form seated there in front of him, and finally 
 began fumbling in an inner pocket of the waistcoat he 
 Avore beneath his uncouth fatigue " blouse." From a 
 bundle of dog-eared, thumb-soiled papers he selected 
 an ill-favored sheet, scrawled within and without in 
 faded ink. The colonel reached forth his hand and 
 took it. 
 
 " Most of that letter's private and personal, colonel," 
 said Mullane, anxiously. "Here's all there is about 
 the lieutenant here on the second page," and he 
 pointed with pudgy, shaky finger. 
 
 The colonel slowly read over the indicated lines, a
 
 BETWEEN THE LINES. 73 
 
 look of deep disgust settling on his fine young face. 
 Then he glanced at the signature. 
 
 " What disreputable character is this correspondent 
 of yours, Captain Mullane ? Who may * P. Tierney ' 
 be?" 
 
 " He's a scout, sir, and in government employ, with 
 the best of characters from General Fremont." 
 
 " And where is he now ?" 
 
 " I don't know, sir." 
 
 " You may retire, Captain Mullane. I presume it is 
 necessary to assure you that the only part of this let 
 ter that I shall show or read is that on the second page 
 which you say is all there is referring to Lieutenant 
 Kearny. But I shall keep it for the next half hour 
 until that portion has been copied and read to these 
 gentlemen, and one moment, sir let me say in pres 
 ence of the colonel and these officers of the New 
 
 Jersey that I consider this story, told by a question 
 able and intangible character, as utterly failing to 
 warrant your aspersions. That will do, sir." 
 
 And when Mullane was fairly out of earshot, the 
 young colonel once more conned the ill-written page, 
 then read it aloud : 
 
 " ' You fellers needn't knuckle under to them Jersey 
 shanghais' " (" I do not reproduce the bad spelling," 
 said the colonel, interrupting himself) " 'they've been 
 blowing about being so high-toned. I can take 'em 
 down a peg, and here's a tip for you. That young 
 feller Kearny is no more dead than I am, and no more 
 prisoner than you. He's got that to tell perhaps when 
 he gets tired of the girl, but while his comrades are
 
 74 BETWEEN THE LINES. 
 
 scouting and fighting, he's hiding in his sweetheart's 
 arms up near the Gap. Next time you have a column 
 out that way run in suddenly on old Judge Armistead's 
 place at Hopeville, and if you don't find him skulking 
 there I'm a liar.' "
 
 VII. 
 
 SEATED on the broad wooden steps of the old home 
 stead, her chin resting in the palm of one soft white 
 hand, her clear violet eyes gazing thoughtfully out 
 over the wide expanse of field, forest, winding stream, 
 and tiny farms, all enclosed within the boundary of 
 those distant heights, Lucy Armistead was lost in 
 maiden reverie. Again the sun was sinking behind 
 the wooded crests that rose in rear of the orchard. 
 Again the shadows were long and dark across the de 
 serted fields below. Again the white walls of Centre- 
 ville gleamed on the edge of the uplands twenty miles 
 away ; but all was silence, and all, apparently, was 
 peace. Around her the droning flight of beetle, the 
 soft chirp of wearied bird in the branches overhead, 
 the flutter and subdued cackle of the hens already 
 roosting on the slats of the old trellis-work under the 
 piazza, all told of the speedy coming of night. It was 
 growing chill, too, and her thin white dress was far 
 too light a garment for the evening air along those 
 shaded slopes and yet she seemed to be oblivious of 
 everything about her. Even when Hannah stepped 
 out upon the piazza and addressed a question in low 
 tone of voice it failed to attract her attention. The 
 girl stood silently a moment, looking down at her
 
 76 BETWEEN THE LINES. 
 
 pretty mistress ; then spoke her name the old home 
 pet-name " Miss Lulie !" and still she gave no sign. 
 Hannah's eyes twinkled with a knowing look ; her 
 white teeth gleamed as she turned away, entered the 
 house, reappeared in a moment with a shawl in her 
 hands, laid it gently over the shoulders of the white 
 figure seated there so motionless, and carefully tucked 
 it under the resting arm in front. Then without a 
 word she was turning noiselessly away, when Miss 
 Armistead seemed to rouse herself to sudden question. 
 
 " Is he awake ?" she asked. 
 
 Hannah shook her head. 
 
 "He's been awake mos' of the day, an' las' night. 
 And he asked me over and over where you were, an' 
 if you wasn't never comin' any mo'." There was a 
 tone of decided reproach in Hannah's voice. "He 
 ain't as well as he was. He was gettin' well fas', so 
 long's you went to see him ; but 'tain't so now, Miss 
 Lulie," she continued, finding that her first remark fell 
 short of the intended effect. 
 
 Miss Armistead turned sharply away. 
 
 " Did the judge say what time he'd get home, Miss 
 Lulie ?" asked Hannah, after brief silence. " 'Cause 
 he wants to see him," she added, somewhat indefi 
 nitely. 
 
 "I hope to see him every moment. I've been 
 watching for two hours." 
 
 In view of the fact that Miss Armistead's sweet 
 eyes had been fixed on the far-away heights of Cen- 
 treville, and that her father was expected to return by 
 way of the mountain road at her back, there was
 
 BETWEEN THE LINES. 77 
 
 something in this statement that seemed irrelevant to 
 her handmaiden, but the latter wisely refrained from 
 comment. There was another matter, though. 
 
 " Miss Lulie," she said, " he ain't fit to ride nohow, 
 but he wants to go 'way." 
 
 " How do you know ?" asked Miss Armistead, after 
 a silence of several seconds. 
 
 " He said so. He done tole Nelse to find him any 
 kind of a horse or mule, an' he pay him well when he 
 get back to Wash'n'ton. But he couldn't get back, 
 Miss Lulie, an' you know it. Dey ain't a day 'r a 
 night the cavalry ain't all around yer, an' dey get 
 him sure, an' he'd die in Libby less 'n no time, Miss 
 Lulie." 
 
 Miss Armistead's fair head bent lower. She seemed 
 to shiver slightly, and drew the shawl more closely 
 about her. She would not speak, however, and after 
 a moment's hesitation Hannah plunged down three or 
 four steps and fairly threw herself at the feet of her 
 mistress. 
 
 "Miss Lulie !" she broke forth, impulsively, with a 
 sob in her voice. " Miss Lulie ! The judge won't 
 tell ; he ain't a-gwine give him up now, is he ?" 
 
 " Hannah /" exclaimed Miss Armistead, with horror 
 and indignation mingled in her tone. " What can 
 have possessed you ? You forget !" 
 
 " Oh, I know what Mars' Henry wrote," wailed the 
 girl ; " I know he done tell you thet nobody mus' find 
 out he's yer, but since you quit gwine to see him an' 
 he begin talk 'bout gwine away " 
 
 But Miss Armistead would not let her finish.
 
 78 BETWEEN THE LINES. 
 
 " Silence, Hannah ! Whatever we have done at 
 Henry's solemn injunction, we have in no wise harmed 
 our country's cause. This gentleman was powerless 
 enough when they brought him to us, and probably 
 can never again fight against Virginia, or any one. 
 So long as he cannot fight against us there is no need 
 for my father to surrender him to the authorities or to 
 speak of his being here, and he will never do it." 
 
 " But, Miss Lulie, s'pose dey find out. What makes 
 'em come speerin' round yer so much, anyhow? Cap'en 
 Falconer's been to see you three times, an' it seems 
 like he 'spect something. An' twice I hear 'em rus- 
 tlin' in the bushes yonder, list'nin', after dark. I sec 
 him talkin' with two men down the road day befo' 
 yisdy, Miss Lulie, and I thought " 
 
 " How can they know, Hannah ? No one but Nelse 
 and you knows anything of it outside of the house. 
 Captain Falconer is here to talk with father about his 
 brother who was captured over at Manassas. He is 
 anxious, and it comforts him to see father and talk 
 with him." 
 
 "Miss Lulie, he don' come yer fur no such talk. 
 He an' the other Cap'en Falconer don' never agree, 
 an' anybody in Warrenton '11 tell you so. Judge 
 Armistead knows it too. What he come yer fur is 
 t' see you, Miss Lulie, and he's been yer every chance. 
 Why ain' he with the rest of the gen'l'men up with 
 the army ? He jes sticks right round yer all the time." 
 
 "Captain Falconer and his squadron are charged 
 with important duties, Hannah. They are posted at 
 Thoro'fare Gap to see that the enemy do not get
 
 BETWEEN THE LINES. 79 
 
 through there unless they come with heavy force. It 
 is his duty to be alert and active. Every week, he 
 says, the enemy appear in greater numbers, and it 
 looks as though they were planning to ride over into 
 the Shenandoah. He comes to consult father, too, for 
 he has great faith in his judgment." 
 
 "Look yonder, Miss Lulie," interrupted Hannah, 
 pointing through the darkening foliage. "It's the 
 judge coming now. I'll run and call ole Nelse." 
 
 But before the servant could reach him, Judge Ar- 
 mistead rode in through the open gateway, dismount 
 ed stiffly at the steps, and threw the reins over the 
 pommel. Very pale, weary, and anxious he looked as 
 he took his daughter in his arms and kissed her ten 
 derly. She searched his face with wistful eyes, striv 
 ing to read his tidings as she led him slowly up to the 
 piazza. 
 
 " I came back through the camp of Captain Falcon 
 er's men, dear," he said. "I wanted to ask that one 
 of them should come up for the horse to-morrow. I 
 I cannot spare Nelse to take him back, and yet I 
 could not have gotten over to Salem without him. 
 It was very kind of Falconer to lend him to me. Has 
 he been here to-day ?" and the tired eyes gazed with 
 deep anxiety into hers. 
 
 " No, father ; no one. Could you hear anything of 
 Henry ? Did you succeed ?" 
 
 " No, child, no," and he shook his head sadly, wear 
 ily. "I can learn nothing. I can collect still less. 
 Even if we had money, it would be difficult to buy 
 stores now. They are almost as scarce at Gordons-
 
 80 BETWEEN THE LINES. 
 
 ville and Culpeper as they are at Warrenton. Every 
 thing is needed for the army. One thing I heard, and 
 I'm afraid it's true, Lucy." 
 "What, father?" 
 
 "They say the Federals are being heavily rein 
 forced over there at Chantilly everywhere, in fact, 
 from Leesburg down beyond Centreville, and that any 
 day now they will come out, seize the gaps, cross over, 
 and cut our line of supplies in the Shenandoah reoc- 
 cupy this whole country, in fact. Then it will be too 
 late." 
 
 " Too late for what, father ?" 
 
 "To get away from here and go to Richmond. 
 Lucy, Lucy ! Harry never dreamed what hardship 
 and danger he was imposing upon you in sending that 
 poor fellow to us. I had planned to start for Rich 
 mond the moment we heard of the possibility of an 
 advance. Has he seemed better to-day ?" 
 
 " I I have not seen him, father, but Hannah says 
 he is sleeping now." 
 
 The old gentleman took her face in his tremulous 
 hands ; her cheeks flushed and burned as he raised it 
 to the waning light. He asked no question, said no 
 word, only looked in her moistened eyes, sadly, wist 
 fully, anxiously. 
 
 "Little daughter," at last he spoke, " so long as he 
 is here, helpless and bedridden, I must stay by him. I 
 will not dishonor Harry's draft. I cannot go now and 
 leave him to such care as Nelse could give him. If 
 if his friends come this way and find him, and carry 
 him off whether we will or not, then are we absolved
 
 BETWEEN THE LINES. 81 
 
 from responsibility. But, on the contrary, should our 
 secret leak out in any way, and our people insist on 
 searching the house, he is gone, and Harry's word will 
 have been broken. If if he were only able to ride !" 
 
 " But he is not, father. Hannah says he has been 
 awake all day, feverish, and seeming worse. He could 
 not ride, I'm sure; and then, even if he could go, every 
 road and pathway is held by our cavalry as far as the 
 heights across the valley. They all say so, and he 
 could not escape. He would be taken, his identity re 
 vealed. Oh, father ; no, no !" 
 
 And she clung to him, hiding her face on his arm, 
 while old Nelse came hobbling around from the barn, 
 and quietly led the horse away. 
 
 " Then listen, daughter," he eagerly spoke. " I have 
 seen Doctor Loring to - day. He will leave Salem 
 for Richmond to-morrow night. Aunt Nina is eager 
 for your coming, and the doctor's daughter goes with 
 him. He will gladly take charge of you and see you 
 safely to the capital and Aunt Nina's roof. I will 
 stay and take care of our guest until he is safe, then 
 leave the old place to care for itself." 
 
 But she looked suddenly up into his face and placed 
 her fingers upon his lips. "I will not stir without 
 you, father. I will share whatever fate awaits you 
 here, but not one step do I take until you too can go. 
 Listen !" 
 
 " What did you hear ?" he asked, after a moment of 
 silence. 
 
 " I thought I heard hoofs on the rocky road through 
 the pass the Hopeville road." 
 6
 
 82 BETWEEN THE LINES. 
 
 Again they listened intently, but all was still. 
 
 "If it were any of Falconer's men, or any of our 
 cavalry, they would hardly be likely to come through 
 that way when all the main roads are open, and whom 
 else have we to expect ?" But even as he spoke the 
 old gentleman gazed anxiously into the gloaming. 
 
 "I am going into the orchard to look. Wait here 
 for me," she said, and, light as a bird, she fluttered 
 down the steps and around the southern end of the 
 house. 
 
 For a moment or so he waited patiently. The 
 mountain road was only a hundred yards away, and 
 there was still light enough to see any objects that 
 might be moving. If his daughter were not mistaken, 
 and shod hoofs were actually on the road, 'twas full 
 time for something to come in sight. No hoof-beats 
 were audible to him, however, and he was just turn 
 ing to enter the hall when Lucy came running back. 
 He saw her white-robed, slender form as it suddenly 
 reappeared; he had hardly time to wonder at her haste 
 when she flew up the steps wild-eyed, pallid, pant 
 ing thrust a little scrap of paper into his hand, then 
 clung to his arm, trembling from head to foot. 
 
 " Read it," she said ; " I know what it is," 
 
 " Who gave it you ?" he asked. 
 
 " A man a stranger coining through the orchard. 
 He said only these words, ' Danger for you and your 
 visitor. Look out for the cavalry to-night,' handed me 
 this, and was back in the road in an instant. Hear 
 him now ! riding back towards Hopeville." 
 
 Hannah was lighting a candle in the hall. By its
 
 BETWEEN THE LINES. 83 
 
 dim rays the old man unfolded the little scrap and 
 read : 
 
 " ' You are believed to have a Federal officer secreted under your 
 roof. Within twelve hours search will be made. 
 
 " ' VERB. SAT SAP.' " 
 
 " In God's name, whose work is this ? What man 
 ner of man gave this to you ?" he asked. 
 
 "A tall, gaunt man in ordinary civilian dress a 
 man I never saw before." 
 
 " But I'se seen him, Miss Lulie, fo' er five times," 
 eagerly exclaimed Hannah ; " he was yer the first 
 mawnin' the the lieutenant rode in," and she raised 
 her eyes and glanced quickly to the head of the stairs. 
 " 'N' he's bin yer nosin' round twice. He done tole 
 me he was on special work, an' he hid in the barn cel 
 lar when Cap'en Falconer rode up." 
 
 " Why didn't you tell me of it ?" asked the judge, 
 angrily. 
 
 Hannah's nervous hands plucked at her apron and 
 her face worked piteously. She faltered and could 
 not speak. At last she murmured, 
 
 "He said the Rangers kill him if they catch him. 
 He was a Lincoln man." 
 
 " Some spy, some skulking, rascally spy, no doubt !" 
 exclaimed the old man. " My God ! What can not 
 rightfully be said of me ? I have betrayed my own 
 people ! I have been false to my state ! But it's 
 over now. If they come to-night they can have him. 
 I have no way now to act one way or other." 
 
 Softly a door at the head of the stairs had opened. 
 Noiselessly a tall, slender, soldierly form in the undress
 
 84 BETWEEN THE LINES. 
 
 uniform of a Union cavalry officer had limped to the 
 railing, and now stood dimly revealed in the rays of 
 the solitary candle below. 
 
 As the old man ceased, and dropped dejectedly into 
 a chair, Lucy threw herself upon her knees and clasped 
 his wrinkled hand. 
 
 " Father ! Father ! You forget your promise to 
 Harry ! You forget " 
 
 But she stopped in sudden confusion, a crimson 
 blush surging to her very temples as she sprang again 
 to her feet. Half-way down the stairs the tall feeble 
 soldier had stopped, clinging to the balustrade. 
 
 " Judge Armistead," he said, in a voice weak as a 
 wearied child's. " I have been waiting only for dark 
 ness and your coming that I might say farewell. Never 
 can I thank you and Miss Armistead enough. I'm 
 well able to ride now, and go I must this very night. 
 God grant no harm may ever come to you and yours 
 for your kindness to Frank Kearny !" 
 
 Before either could recover from the surprise occa 
 sioned by this gaunt apparition in cavalry dress there 
 came the shuffle of rapid feet through the dining-room, 
 and old Nelse, his eyes bulging, his gray, kinky crop 
 of wool seeming fairly bristling with fear and excite 
 ment, rushed into their midst. 
 
 " Fo' Gawd's sake, niars'r, hurry ! De Rangers is 
 comin' up de road. I's got de horse, suh." 
 
 Another moment he hardly knows how he got 
 there Lieutenant Kearny is in saddle, clinging feebly 
 to mane and pommel as old Nelse leads the troop 
 horse through the darkness of the orchard and up a
 
 "Half-way down the stairs the tail, feeble soldier had stopped."
 
 BETWEEN THE LINES. 85 
 
 winding pathway behind the house. He is only cer 
 tain of one thing. It was Miss Armistead who whis 
 pered. 
 
 " Guide him to the hut at the old lookout, Nelse, and 
 stay there till I send."
 
 VIII. 
 
 A QUESTION that occurred to Judge Armistead 
 some five minutes later was as to Nelse's source of in 
 formation about the movements of the cavalry " the 
 Rangers." No sooner had the old negro disappeared 
 in the gloom of the orchard, leading the horse by the 
 bridle-rein, than Miss Armistead and Hannah flew up 
 stairs to the room recently occupied by the invalid, 
 and were busily engaged in removing every trace of 
 its recent occupation. Expecting to hear the tramp 
 of horses' feet, the old man went proudly forth upon 
 the broad piazza, intending to confront his accusers 
 with all the dignity and decision of his race. He had 
 felt almost ready to surrender his unbidden guest a 
 few moments before, but the idea of a searching party 
 being sent to his house instantly revised the antago 
 nism of his nature and placed him on the defensive. 
 For years he had lived in Virginia, and had been, 
 when in his prime, a leading lawyer, and at all times 
 a man honored and respected. Hospitable, open- 
 hearted, open-handed, he found in his declining years 
 that he had laid by but few pennies for the rainy day 
 that was so sure to come ; and the education of his 
 children, and the liberal allowances accorded them, 
 were only made possible by mortgaging his pretty
 
 BETWEEN THE LINES. 87 
 
 home in Warrenton. The mortgage was foreclosed 
 after the presidential election of 1860, and not until 
 after he had declined offers of help of every and any 
 kind from most of the moneyed men of the commu 
 nity. Henry was rising in his profession in Richmond, 
 they said, and in course of time the debt could be 
 paid. It was not easy for the old man to say no to 
 such kind and earnest offers, but he was proud as 
 any of the Pharaohs, and it was his one boast that his 
 word had ever been as good as his bond. He had still 
 the old farm homestead up at Hopeville Gap, that had 
 been the scene of the romance of his life, the home of 
 the girl he wooed and won, the woman who, as his 
 loved and honored wife, had made sunshine perennial 
 at his hearthstone. It was hard to leave the old seat 
 at his library window that looked out over the peace 
 ful churchyard where she lay sleeping the last, long, 
 dreamless sleep ; but there was soon reason why War 
 renton would not have been a pleasant abiding place 
 even could he have held his home. When the spring 
 time came Judge Armistead was thankful he had 
 said no to the men who would have opened their 
 purse-strings in his behalf, for he disappointed them 
 one and all. After fierce debates and overheated 
 oratory the ordinance of secession went through with 
 a yell, Virginia cast her lot with her Southern sisters, 
 and to the very last moment, with all the earnestness 
 and eloquence of which he was master, the old lawyer 
 opposed it, and lost caste in a community where for a 
 lifetime no man had so much as looked askance at 
 him. Once taken, however, the step was irrevocable on
 
 88 BETWEEN THE LINES. 
 
 the part of his state, and, true to the doctrine in which 
 he had been reared, the Virginian threw himself heart 
 and soul into her service. Henry had already buckled 
 on the sword, and the judge not only stinted himself 
 that he might provide liberally for the young soldier's 
 needs, but sold a valuable law library that he might 
 contribute as liberally to the equipment of the troop 
 in which his boy was promptly elected cornet before 
 they were sworn into the service of the commonwealth. 
 Nevertheless there were not a few people who, in their 
 enthusiastic devotion to the cause of the Confederacy, 
 could not forgive it in an Armistead that he should 
 have opposed and strenuously opposed Virginia's 
 severance of the tie that bound her to the Union ; and 
 Lucy, his sweet-faced, gentle daughter, who was heart 
 and soul a secessionist without having any really well- 
 defined idea of what its consequences might be Lucy 
 was on several occasions treated by former friends 
 and associates with conspicuous coolness or equally 
 dangerous warmth, simply because of the stand he 
 had taken. Being a young woman of no little spirit, 
 despite her very cordial and winning manners, Miss 
 Armistead had resented these impertinences with im 
 mediate and telling effect. From that time forth she 
 " would have none of them," and there was civil war 
 within civil war that spring-tide of '61 in the lovely 
 old homes of Fauquier County. Perhaps it was just 
 as well that they moved up to Hopeville about the 
 time the news of Sumter came, and all the South 
 was crying through its journalists and orators, "Jacta 
 est alea! the day of our deliverance is come !" Lucy
 
 BETWEEN THE LINES. 89 
 
 Armistead, in common with nine tenths of the pretty 
 girls of Virginia, had little doubt that it would be a 
 matter of but a few months for the brothers and lovers 
 in the glistening, gold-braided gray uniforms to march 
 through Washington upon the populous cities of the 
 North, and wring from a prostrate government the 
 promise of future submission to the will of that im 
 perious and warlike sisterhood, the new-born Confed 
 eracy. That McDowell and his army should dare ad 
 vance into the heart of this sacred soil was temerity 
 of the worst order. That he should be overwhelmed 
 with panic, disaster, and ruin the moment he ventured 
 into this broad and beautiful valley was simply inevi 
 table, and he ought to have known it. Lucy never 
 for an instant imagined anything else as a possible 
 result. She had not done wondering at the abandon 
 ment of Manassas the following spring, when Jackson 
 suddenly reappeared from the Peninsula and popped 
 through the Gap into the very fields whereon the year 
 before his envying comrade pointed him out, serene 
 amid the storm of battle, " standing like a stone wall." 
 And now what did it mean that here under their 
 roof there lurked in hiding nearly an entire month a 
 soldier of the hated North, an open and avowed enemy 
 of their beloved Virginia? By all the laws of war 
 he ought, despite his wounds and his helplessness, to 
 have been turned over to the care of the Confederate 
 cavalry, whose squadrons swept by the house the very 
 day succeeding his sudden and most unwelcome ap 
 pearance, but the letter borne to the gray -haired 
 father was one he could not disregard : it made even
 
 90 BETWEEN THE LINES. 
 
 the Yankee officer a sacred charge in their hands, to 
 be secreted, nursed back to health and strength, and 
 then, if not actually assisted to his regiment, at least 
 suffered to go in peace. There was something pa 
 thetic, too, about the condition of their unbidden guest 
 when, all unconscious of the test to which their 
 boasted Virginia hospitality was being put, he was 
 landed in delirium at their door. Bruised and cruel 
 ly lacerated when crushed under his wildly struggling 
 horse, shot through the side and through the sabre 
 arm, stunned by being hurled upon his head, and now 
 burning with fever and moaning in his fitful dream 
 ing, helpless and dependent as a little child, and friend 
 less as Jeanne la Pucelle before her accusers at Rouen, 
 he was lifted from the straw in that rude farm-wagon 
 and borne in the arms of the negroes to the room set 
 in readiness for his coming yet not for such as he. 
 No words can tell the father's consternation when he 
 read Henry's brief but most urgent appeal, and learned 
 that the senseless, almost dying man before him was 
 an officer of the Union army and his son's once inti 
 mate and chosen friend at college. There was some 
 thing he did not know even then, but that Lucy di 
 vined the instant her clear eyes glanced over that 
 strange letter. It did not serve to make her one whit 
 more kind to the stricken soldier. Anywhere else, 
 under any other circumstances, she could have turned 
 from him with bitterness and aversion. She kept her 
 brother's letter to reread from time to time, she said, 
 that it might keep her steadfast in the effort to do his 
 will, and whether because of it or other considerations
 
 BETWEEN THE LINES. 91 
 
 which she would have been the last to admit, she had 
 most nobly acquitted herself of the task. 
 
 With Hannah's aid and that of their old cook, and 
 the occasional services of Nelse, with her father's by 
 no means trivial skill and experience in the cure of ill 
 ness, with the youth and vigorous constitution of her 
 patient to respond to their united efforts, Miss Armi- 
 stead was soon able to assure herself that Henry's 
 friend was on the high-road to recovery. Conscious 
 ness returned in a few days, the fever disappeared, the 
 wounds healed rapidly ; but no sooner did he realize 
 where he was than Lieutenant Kearny began fretting 
 himself into a fever again. He knew that in giving 
 aid and comfort to him they would inevitably bring 
 down punishment upon themselves, and he implored 
 the judge to send word to the nearest Confederate 
 post, and let them come and take him. The judge 
 replied that it was impossible because of his promise. 
 " My son's word is mine, sir," was his answer. Then 
 he had to be away a day or two in search of supplies 
 in the villages across the range, and in those days 
 Lucy found it necessary to sit by her impatient patient 
 for hours, reading to him, or kindly and firmly setting 
 aside all his arguments as to the course he urged upon 
 them. He could not understand what promise Cap 
 tain Armistead had given ; he could not understand 
 why he should have promised anything at all. War 
 is war, and both had taken up the sword with eyes 
 wide open to its possible fortunes, good or ill. He 
 urged that he might be permitted to see the letter, 
 and was refused. The reason was not therein given,
 
 92 BETWEEN THE LINES. 
 
 she said. He asked her if she knew the reason, and 
 she rose and left his bedside and affected to rearrange 
 the curtains at the window that she might hide from 
 his searching eyes the blush that suffused her sweet 
 but averted face. 
 
 As the days wore on and her manner was ever kind 
 and grave, he chafed inwardly, and contended against 
 the fact that it was nothing but kind and grave : a 
 studied kindness the professional, almost perfunctory 
 kindness of the hospital nurse who day after day min 
 isters to the wants of patients who must be coaxed 
 and humored back to health. She seemed fairly in 
 spired in the certainty with which she learned to an 
 ticipate his every need. She forgot nothing, neglected 
 no item that could add to his comfort or promote his 
 recovery, but with it all and through it all there was 
 patent to him a strange, intangible, but positive some 
 thing that told him she wished him to distinctly under 
 stand it was all for Henry's sake. 
 
 He was young, brave, gallant, fair to see, and as 
 health slowly returned to him his good looks, despite 
 his pallor, seemed to come with it. She was younger 
 still, sweet, gentle, graceful, and fairer woman never 
 yet had he set eyes upon so those longing eyes be 
 gan to tell him. Wounds, weakness, suffering, sus 
 pense, danger, and anxiety one after another became 
 forgotten in her presence merged and overwhelmed 
 in a sweeter suspense, an anxiety far more potent, a 
 wound that never yet in any man has ceased its tor 
 ment save at the touch of one desired hand, and never 
 will. Under the sloping rafters of that old Virginia
 
 BETWEEN THE LINES. 93 
 
 farmhouse, in the peace and tranquillity of that white 
 room, fragrant with the perfume of the flowers with 
 which she daily decked it, and fresh with balmy air 
 and sunshine, she moved about his bedside, or sat 
 reading in soft, low tones, while Hannah's needles 
 clicked through their worsted in the corner, and Han 
 nah's watchful eyes saw what her young mistress 
 would never have permitted her to hint, that, with all 
 his heart and strength and soul, Lucy Armistead was 
 loved by this young knight, this enemy of all her 
 kith and kin, and thus that he was doubly her prisoner. 
 
 There came the day, as such days must come, when, 
 partially at least, she too saw it. Then followed the 
 estrangement, the neglect of him, that called forth 
 Hannah's almost tearful plea. Impulsively, as she 
 was rearranging his pillow, he had seized her hand in 
 both his, all trembling as they were, and was covering 
 it with burning kisses, when she whisked it from his 
 grasp, and in speechless indignation almost rushed 
 from the room, utterly spurning his plea for mercy, 
 for forgiveness utterly refusing to listen. 
 
 And this was still the situation the day the judge 
 came back from Salem ; and then, despite her wrath, 
 it was she who sent him to a place of refuge which 
 poor bewildered old Nelse would never have thought 
 of. His one idea had been to convey as quickly as 
 possible to his master the startling tidings brought 
 him but the moment before by a panting colored boy, 
 who had come full tilt across the fields to warn his 
 brother "contraband" of the coming storm. The 
 veriest chuckle-heads among those plantation hands
 
 94 BETWEEN THE LINES. 
 
 seemed to have been gifted in those days of their 
 dawning freedom with a marvellous quickness of per 
 ception and a fidelity in keeping the secrets of the 
 "Lincoln soldiers" that beings of higher grade in the 
 social scale might have envied in vain. The negroes 
 who brought Kearny to the homestead in the gloam 
 ing of that autumn evening, the few servants about 
 the farm, all must have known it was no Confederate 
 soldier so mysteriously received and guarded ; but it 
 was not one of their number, the judge could swear, 
 by whom he was betrayed. 
 
 Who, then, was it ? 
 
 Standing on his piazza, Judge Armistead had time 
 to decide his course of action before the troop of 
 horsemen came clattering into sight. Two officers at 
 the head of the little column rode into the yard and 
 straight to the steps. One was Falconer, looking pale 
 and grave ; the other a stranger. It was the latter who 
 dismounted and came quickly and lightly up the steps, 
 but his manner was cold and haughty when he spoke. 
 
 " Judge Armistead, I am Major Gordon, of Rich 
 mond, and I am charged, sir, with a most unwelcome 
 duty. It has been reported there that you are harbor 
 ing an officer of the Federal army under your roof or 
 about your premises. My orders are from the secre 
 tary of war himself, and they require me to make 
 thorough search in every nook and corner. There is 
 one condition on which I am authorized to suspend 
 the search." 
 
 "And what may that be, major?" asked the judge, 
 with bland courtesy, but with kindling eyes.
 
 BETWEEN THE LINES. 95 
 
 "That you assure me on your word of honor, in 
 presence of Captain Falconer, that you have no such 
 person or persons here." 
 
 " I give it, sir, unhesitatingly." 
 
 " My dear sir, I congratulate myself with twice 
 thrice the joy with which I congratulate you," ex 
 claimed the officer, with sudden change of manner, 
 with cordial delight in his eyes, and eagerly extending 
 his hand. " The story was scouted in Richmond, and 
 nothing but positive orders " 
 
 But he broke off suddenly. Something in the up 
 raised, not extended, hand warned him. The judge 
 had more to say. 
 
 "I will not take your hand, sir, if in so doing I 
 leave you under any misconception of the case. I 
 have given you my word that no such person is here. 
 Major, you have simply come too late." 
 
 There was a moment of silence which no man pres 
 ent cared to be the first to break. Then a quick,, soft 
 rustling at the door of the hallway, and Falconer, 
 glancing sharply thither, saw Lucy Armistead turn 
 suddenly away, her face hidden in her hands.
 
 IX. 
 
 WHEN Major Gordon returned with his small escort 
 to the railway, he went a much mystified man. In the 
 discussion of the instructions which he had been 
 charged to carry out, much stress had been laid upon 
 the integrity of the old Virginian, who had become 
 the subject of injurious report. Despite the opposi 
 tion he had manifested before the final adoption of 
 the ordinance of secession, every one who knew him 
 testified, or was ready to testify, to his devotion to 
 the interests of the Confederate government when the 
 war-clouds rose above the horizon. No one at the 
 Richmond War-office could trace to its source the 
 rumor of his defection, but it came in such a shape 
 that it could not well be disregarded a letter from 
 the wife of an officer prominent in the command of 
 General Longstreet. She wrote from Warrenton to 
 her brother, whose duties kept him for the time at 
 Richmond, while her husband was still with his divi 
 sion over in the Shenandoah. She had known and 
 honored the old judge all her life. It was "more in 
 sorrow than in anger" that she told her brief story, 
 and the officer sent to investigate the matter was 
 charged to conduct no search and permit no intrusion 
 if the old man gave his word as an Armistead that no
 
 BETWEEN THE LINES. 97 
 
 such persons as represented were concealed anywhere 
 on his property. This, as has been seen, was promptly 
 given, for the judge well knew that by the time the 
 troops arrived old Nelse was half-way up the heights 
 behind the farm and beyond his little bailiwick. 
 
 Major Gordon had felt it his duty to inquire who 
 the concealed officer was, how long he had been har 
 bored under their roof, by what means he had been 
 spirited away, and how he came to find his way thith 
 er in the first place. Mindful of the trouble in which 
 he would involve his son were he to tell the story, 
 Judge Armistead replied that the only information 
 he felt it possible for him to give was this : that some 
 negroes whom he did not know brought a man wound 
 ed, bruised, and almost dying to his door. After 
 bearing him to a room beneath his roof, the discovery 
 was made that he was a Federal officer. "I would 
 not have turned a dog from my door in such a plight," 
 he said. " We nursed him until he was able to get 
 up and ride away ;" and that was absolutely all that 
 he would say upon the subject. 
 
 Warned by Major Gordon that now he had sub 
 jected himself to the just suspicions, if not the punish 
 ment, of the government at Richmond, the judge sim 
 ply bowed in silent dignity ; and then, when the ma 
 jor would have pressed him further, he slowly and 
 impressively raised his hand and interrupted him. 
 
 "Pardon me, sir, for interposing. Your time is 
 
 doubtless precious, and will be only wasted in further 
 
 questioning. To such penalty as the authorities may 
 
 decree, I can only submit. Meanwhile I am still mas- 
 
 7
 
 98 BETWEEN THE LINES. 
 
 ter here, and must not neglect my duties as host. Per 
 mit me to offer you and Captain Falconer such re 
 freshment as is in our power to give." 
 
 But Major Gordon conceived it his duty to decline 
 the tendered hospitality, and to inform the old man 
 that his imprudence had made it necessary to place 
 him under surveillance until the wishes of the secre 
 tary could be learned. Captain Falconer was directed 
 to remain with most of his men to throw a guard 
 about the place that night, and assuring the captain 
 that he would request that another officer be sent in 
 the morning to relieve him and his detachment of so 
 unwelcome a duty, the staff-officer set forth upon his 
 return. 
 
 That night and for two days that followed the 
 Armisteads were under guard. Falconer posted four 
 sentries about the house, whose instructions were to 
 permit no one to pass in or out until he himself had 
 examined the person and ascertained his or her pur 
 pose : Judge Armistead was to be confined beneath 
 his own roof. 
 
 When the morrow came there rode into sight soon 
 after dawn the promised relief. It consisted of a 
 lieutenant and twenty men of the cavalry command 
 stationed with his own squadron at Thoro'fare Gap, 
 and the lieutenant handed Falconer a letter, which 
 proved to be from Major Gordon. In it was full 
 authority for the captain to turn over his duties to 
 the officer who bore the missive, since he, the writer, 
 could not ignore the extremely delicate and painful 
 nature of the situation in which Captain Falconer
 
 BETWEEN THE LINES. 99 
 
 was so unavoidably placed. It was distressing to 
 think that so old a friend of the Armisteads should 
 have had to act for even a single night as their jailer, 
 but it was one of the singular fortunes of such a war. 
 "A stranger thing than this occurred to an ancestor 
 of mine in the old days of York and Lancaster in the 
 War of the Roses," wrote the major, " and stranger 
 things than this might happen any day." 
 
 Then he went on to say and this the captain read 
 with close attention that he wished it were possible 
 for Falconer to remain at Hopeville at least for forty- 
 eight hours, until the report of the case could be acted 
 on at Richmond. The lieutenant was somewhat young 
 and inexperienced, whereas Falconer knew the country 
 and might be able to learn something definite of the 
 mysterious Yankee whom Armistead had so unac 
 countably harbored. But it was, perhaps, too much 
 to ask. 
 
 Falconer gave ten minutes' thought to this letter, 
 and wrote a reply which reflected credit upon his rep 
 utation as an officer and a gentleman. Debarred, he 
 said, by the fortunes of war from accompanying his 
 comrades of Stuart's glorious corps in their enviable 
 march to Maryland, he had striven to faithfully and 
 energetically perform the duties assigned to him at 
 the Gap. Nothing had given him such pain and sur 
 prise as the admission made by Judge Armistead, and 
 no duty could well be more distressing to him than 
 that of commanding the guard which his lifelong 
 friends could not but consider in the light of jailers. 
 But it was not for him to seek relief from any service
 
 100 BETWEEN" THE LINES. 
 
 the state might require at his hands. Acting under 
 the request, so delicately and courteously conveyed in 
 his superior's letter, Captain Falconer's sense of a 
 soldier's duty prompted him to say that however re 
 pugnant to his feelings, he would remain at his post, 
 at least until further instructions, and he had the hon 
 or to subscribe himself, very respectfully, etc. 
 
 It would be two days before this letter could catch 
 Major Gordon, two more before reply could reach 
 him, and meantime, thought Falconer, much might be 
 accomplished here at Hopeville. 
 
 Except that fleeting glimpse of her as she darted 
 back into the dimly lighted hall on hearing her father's 
 astounding words the night before, not once had he 
 been able to see Miss Armistead. He had begged for 
 an interview with her, and it was denied him on the 
 plea that she was too much distressed to see and talk 
 with any one, and had retired to her room for the 
 night. The judge gravely and courteously assured 
 him that not for a moment did they misunderstand 
 his position or his sentiments. His embarrassment 
 and his voluble expressions of regret and sympathy 
 the old man replied to by earnestly requesting him 
 to think no more of the matter. A soldier's duty was 
 a thing too sacred to be made the topic of a discus 
 sion. "We will confine ourselves to the house, and 
 give the sentries no trouble whatever," said the judge, 
 " and you must consider yourself entirely at home." 
 Hannah was ordered to prepare a room, and the cook 
 to rebuild her kitchen fire and serve supper for the 
 captain ; but Falconer protested. He could not tres-
 
 BETWEEN THE LINES. 101 
 
 pass on their hospitality so long as this hateful duty 
 was imposed upon him. He would sleep on the piazza, 
 or, at very best, the sofa in the hall, and spend the 
 hours, so he wrote in a little note he gave to Hannah 
 for her mistress, praying Heaven to bring rest and 
 comfort and blessing to her, and prompt relief from 
 an intolerable burden to him." 
 
 But as he had not been able to see her, Falconer, of 
 his own volition, decided to retain the "intolerable 
 burden " until she granted him the desired interview. 
 
 All that day she kept her room, however, and Judge 
 Armistead, when not with his daughter, shut himself 
 in the scantily furnished " study " which was reserved 
 for his particular and personal use. Lucy alone ever 
 ventured in there except at his express command or 
 invitation. 
 
 Meantime Captain Falconer had not been idle. He 
 had pretty thoroughly examined all the sheds, barns, 
 and hiding-places about the premises, persistently 
 questioned the cook and Hannah, and it was not long 
 before he discovered that old Nelse was missing. He 
 also knew that the horse he had lent the judge had 
 not been returned to camp up to the time the lieuten 
 ant and his platoon left there that morning. Hannah, 
 from an upper window, watched him as he prowled 
 about the barn and sheds in search of the missing 
 quadruped, and readily divined his thoughts. She 
 flew down to the kitchen, where " Aunt Bell " was at 
 work, and breathlessly warned her to keep out of the 
 captain's way ; he would be sure to ask her where 
 Nelse had gone and what had been done with the
 
 102 BETWEEN THE LINES. 
 
 horse. Meantime the girl's wits were actively at work 
 to devise a story that would account for the absence 
 of both, and one that no one in the house would gain 
 say. She took good care, too, that Miss Lucy should 
 be fully and minutely informed of the captain's move 
 ments, and favored, furthermore, with her own inter 
 pretation of everything he did or said. This was 
 perhaps unfortunate for the captain, as in every case 
 her comments were heavily charged with cynicism. 
 
 It must have been nearly sundown, and all day 
 long the inmates of the homestead had been speculat 
 ing with varied emotions as to the fate of the fugitives 
 of the previous night. Nearly two miles up the ridge 
 was an eminence from which the country could be 
 seen for leagues in every direction, and down among 
 the rocks below, sheltered by thick foliage, was a lit 
 tle hut which had long been deserted. A bridle-path, 
 rough, winding, and tangled with brier and under 
 brush, led thither up the mountain-side, and this was 
 the refuge to which Nelse had conducted his precious 
 charge. Never dreaming her father would boldly 
 and frankly proclaim that he had " given aid and com 
 fort to the enemy," Miss Armistead had hoped that 
 some time this day she could send food and blankets 
 to the invalid there hidden, and have tidings of his 
 welfare. The sudden catastrophe of their being de 
 clared under guard, and so shut off from all possibility 
 of communication with "her prisoner," as the judge 
 once called him, well-nigh overwhelmed her with ap 
 prehension. She sprang from the couch on which 
 she had been lying, and hurried to her window with
 
 BETWEEN THE LINES. 103 
 
 beating heart, therefore, when, just as the sun went 
 down in the west, she heard the stern, sharp challenge 
 of a sentry, and a call for the corporal of the guard. 
 She heard the rattle of Falconer's sword as he ran 
 down the steps, and in an instant Hannah was peering 
 over her shoulder. 
 
 There, bowing, smiling, scraping the ground with 
 his foot, and making every imaginable manifestation 
 of respect to the military authorities, stood old Nelse, 
 cornered in an attempt to run the blockade through 
 the dense shrubbery of the garden. 
 
 " Where've you been, sir ?" sternly demanded Cap 
 tain Falconer. " Where were you last night ?" 
 
 The two faces at the upper window one so fair 
 and delicate, the other brown and eager were almost 
 ashen in the dread suspense of the moment ; but al 
 most instantly a gleam of joy shot over one, a flash of 
 delight, not unmingled with incredulity, gleamed in 
 the other, and both women, Caucasian and Ethiop, 
 were shameless enough to applaud and approve a 
 barefaced lie. 
 
 " My lawd !" gasped Hannah, " dat fool niggah got 
 mo' sense 'n I ever thought !" for Nelse's black face 
 was luminous with truth and injured innocence as he 
 answered : 
 
 " Ober to my boy's, suh ober on de odder side. I 
 done tuk him a sack o' meal, suh, 'n' den dis mawnin' 
 I fetched de hawse back to camp 'n' gave him to de 
 gyard, suh, 'n' den I done walked all de way home, 'n' 
 I's pow'ful tired, suh." 
 
 Old Nt-lse had raised his voice so that every word
 
 104 BETWEEN THE LINES. 
 
 was distinctly audible. There was a story for Hannah 
 and the cook to swear to ! Falconer cross-questioned 
 in low tone. Nelse responded with loud and hearty 
 reiteration of his statement, and then humbly inquired 
 if he couldn't go into the kitchen he hadn't had a 
 " mouff ul " all day and the captain let him go. 
 
 In a moment Lucy Armistead and her hand-maiden 
 had seized the old negro, and were dragging informa 
 tion from him piecemeal. The fugitives had reached 
 the refuge in safety. Kearny had suffered a good 
 deal, both during the rough ride and the night that 
 followed, but declared he was doing well. Nelse had 
 left with him every scrap of the food Hannah had 
 hastily thrust in the saddle-bags, for when morning 
 came the lieutenant told him to take the horse to Fal 
 coner's camp, in order that the use he had been put 
 to might not be suspected, coached him on the story 
 he was to tell, and sent his heart's load of thanks and 
 blessings to "Miss Lucy an' all of 'em," as the dark 
 harbinger of good tidings put it. 
 
 When Judge Armistead noiselessly opened his 
 daughter's door a few minutes later, no answer hav 
 ing been given to his knock, he found her on the sofa, 
 sobbing as though her heart would break.
 
 There, bowing, smiling, scraping, stood old NelseJ
 
 X. 
 
 THE second day of Captain Falconer's much-regret 
 ted tour of guard-duty had come, and for a man so pro 
 fuse in expression of disgust at having been compelled 
 to assume so repugnant a charge, it must be confessed 
 that his sense of duty was commendable in the highest 
 degree. Even while volubly damning the Fates that 
 led to his being left behind when Stuart's cavalry were 
 winning new laurels for themselves up in Maryland, 
 the captain kept a vigilant eye on his sentries and on 
 all the occupants of the house who appeared outside 
 their rooms. He indulged Judge Armistead with an 
 other long dissertation this morning on the extraordi 
 nary freaks of fortune that had held him in the back 
 ground on more than one stirring campaign, and he 
 showed him the draft of a letter he had written beg 
 ging to be relieved at once of his detail in command of 
 the outpost at Hopeville Gap, whose principal task it 
 was to hold as prisoners in their own house a man of 
 such exalted and patriotic character as Judge Armis 
 tead, and a woman of such rare loveliness of mind and 
 person as his noble and devoted daughter. As the fair 
 copy of this eloquent appeal was not found among the 
 archives of the War Department at Richmond some 
 years later, it is possible that the original draft was all
 
 106 BETWEEN THE LINES. 
 
 that was ever written, and that its purpose was to in 
 fluence no superiors in military circles, but rather to 
 create an impression in the minds of those who were 
 virtually his prisoners. Falconer hoped that the judge 
 would tell it all to Lucy, and that its effect Avould be 
 to bring her out from her room ready to greet him 
 with tender and sympathetic smiles. But although 
 the old gentleman begged him to come in and take 
 breakfast with him, he in the same breath remarked 
 that Lucy would have to be excused, she was feeling 
 far from well ; and noonday came and not a word did 
 he have with her. 
 
 One thing had occurred during the night that caused 
 him not a little speculation and anxiety. Old Nelse 
 had been cautioned to sleep in the house, and when 
 Falconer went the rounds at nine in the evening he 
 saw the veteran hostler's gray woolly pate bending 
 over a dim light at the kitchen table. "Aunt Bell," 
 the cook, was making some little dish with which she 
 hoped, she said, to tempt Miss Lucy to eat. It occurred 
 to Falconer as he glanced in at the open door, and met 
 her smiling and good-natured greeting, that there was 
 a rousing big fire in the stove, and rather a lavish out> 
 lay of various provender on the table. He was suspi 
 cious of everything he saw and heard, but feared to 
 jeopard his own hopes and prospects by interference 
 of any kind with the internal affairs of the household. 
 After all, it might only be the customary exhibit of 
 negro prodigality and improvidence. It was early in 
 the war, and the lessons of economy and the scores of 
 domestic makeshifts that were learned throughout the
 
 BETWEEN THE LINES. 107 
 
 Sunny South by the spring of '65 had not yet begun 
 to vex the spirits of " Aunt Bell " and her few satel 
 lites. Warning the servants on no account to attempt 
 to cross the sentry-posts that night, as his men would 
 be sure to mistake them for spies or prowling Yankees, 
 and shoot, Falconer resumed his rounds among the 
 guards, and gave strict injunctions to the four men 
 posted about the house to permit no one to go in or 
 out ; then he visited his little picket-stations out on 
 the roads, and came back to the piazza and his soldier 
 slumber pretty well satisfied. 
 
 And yet the first thing he saw in the morning, just 
 after daybreak, was old Nelse, hobbling in through 
 the orchard with a basket on his arm. The basket was 
 half full of eggs and apples, and Nelse's old face was 
 " chuck-full," as he would have expressed it, of min 
 gled innocence and concern as he listened to the cap 
 tain's stern interrogations. Bless his heart, said Nelse, 
 he hadn't " done nuffin," just been out to get some 
 eggs. How did he get out ? Why, " jes walked " 
 out. Oh, yes. He done cross the sentry's post, but 
 the gentleman was busy, and he "didn't like to dis 
 turb him." 
 
 This made Falconer boil with wrath. ISTelse said he 
 walked out at dawn 'cause he wanted to find where 
 the hens were hiding their eggs ; it was raining, and 
 the sentry was trying to fix a bit of rubber blanket in 
 the low branches of an old pear-tree as he went out. 
 The sentry declared he hadn't had his eyes off the 
 kitchen doors and windows, and that Nelse couldn't 
 have crossed the post when he said he did. The cap-
 
 108 BETWEEN THE LINES. 
 
 tain was at his wits' end to solve the problem. Down 
 in the bottom of his suspicious soul he believed that 
 Nelse had been out most of the night had gone some 
 where with provisions, and that in all probability the 
 Yankee officer was hidden away in the near neighbor 
 hood. If he could only catch him ! He determined, 
 after long thought, to give Nelse another chance ; to 
 warn his men to be more alert than before, but to feign 
 the contrary. He planned to let Nelse out, but to fol 
 low him with one or two of his best troopers. It might 
 be done that very night, and meantime, could he not 
 see her and determine for himself whether she had 
 been interested in the care and concealment of the 
 mysterious Yankee ? whether, indeed, she were not 
 interested in the Yankee himself ? 
 
 But several hours before darkness settled down upon 
 the range Captain Falconer found himself and his com 
 mand relieved from their much-anathematized duty, 
 and in a manner not at all expected, at least as a re 
 sult of his "application" exhibited that morning to 
 Judge Armistead. The news of Lee's ill success and 
 his retreat from Sharpsburg to the Shenandoah had 
 put a damper on the high spirits of many a Virginian 
 household, and the Armisteads at Hopeville were as 
 deeply disappointed as any. In sympathy with the 
 situation, a drizzling rain had been falling since very 
 early in the morning, and a mist hung over the valley 
 before their eyes, veiling the distant roads and fords. 
 The judge with his spyglass, now of little use, and 
 the captain with a map of Virginia on his knee, were 
 seated on the piazza discussing the probable outcome
 
 BETWEEN THE LINES. 109 
 
 of the present campaign. Moist and soaking, the fields 
 rolled away down the slopes before them ; wet and 
 dripping, the little patches of woodland looked black 
 and gloomy through the mists. The road from Hope- 
 ville straight across country to Sudley Springs showed 
 like a dun-red furrow here and there between the fields 
 until shrouded by the low-hanging clouds, and nowhere 
 along this cheerless landscape, outside the hedge with 
 in which the detachment was encamped, was a living 
 object in sight. Nevertheless old Hector, the New 
 foundland, lifted his head at times, pricked up his ears, 
 and gazed attentively eastward. About two o'clock 
 he sprang up from the mat near his master's chair, 
 waddled down the steps, and trotted briskly out to the 
 road in front. Almost at the same moment Hannah 
 came fluttering down from the second story, hesitated 
 a moment at sight of Falconer, then, never interrupting 
 the talk of the two gentlemen, she sought to carry 
 away the spyglass without attracting her master's at 
 tention ; but the captain checked her. " Don't take 
 it away, Hannah ; we may want to use it," he said. 
 
 " Miss Lucy asked for it just a minute," stammered 
 the girl. "She wants to see something." 
 
 Falconer sprang up and keenly scrutinized the misty 
 line of road stretching away across the lowlands. 
 Something in the girl's eager face made him suspicious 
 of coming danger. Something in his manner as he 
 suddenly took the glass and adjusted it attracted the 
 immediate attention of the judge. There was an un 
 mistakable quiver and tremulousness about the cap 
 tain's hand ; there was a paler shade about his cheeks.
 
 110 BETWEEN THE LINES. 
 
 It made him think, all in an instant, of little hints that 
 had been let drop from time to time, of certain im 
 pressions he had received vague, shadowy, and in 
 tangible as as those mist-veiled objects flitting like 
 ghosts along the edge of the forest yonder, yet as posi 
 tively pictured in his brain. It reminded him of a 
 reluctant expression once drawn from the lips of his 
 son, a man who never condemned without good and 
 sufficient reason. " There is wide difference between 
 the soldierly qualities of the two Falconers. Wayne, 
 the elder, is born to rise to high command, or fall in 
 the attempt." But this was not Wayne. He had gone 
 down before the fire of the Western brigade on the 
 night of Gainesville, and was now languishing in a 
 Northern prison. This was Scott, the younger, and 
 what he saw through that glass was not a pleasant sight. 
 Those pallid, ghostly, dripping figures were dragoons 
 in long overcoats or rubber ponchos, and coming this 
 way the advance guard, beyond question, of heavier 
 forces in their rear. 
 
 " To horse, men ! To horse !" he shouted. " Sound, 
 there, bugler, and be quick about it !" Then down the 
 steps he ran and around to the rear of the house, where 
 his own horse and orderly were sheltered at the barn. 
 
 Quick, from under the piazza, from the shelter of 
 the little fruit-trees, from a dozen nooks and corners, 
 the gray-jacketed Rangers leaped into view; belts, car 
 bine slings, spurs, gauntlets, were hurriedly donned, 
 bridles and saddles were whipped from the low limbs 
 of the shade-trees, or dragged from under the bushes, 
 and, all bustle, excitement, energy, and spirit, the little
 
 Falconer sprang up and keenly scrutinized the misty line of road"
 
 BETWEEN THE LINES. Ill 
 
 detachment rushed for its horses, and presently man 
 after man came trotting out to the roadway in front, 
 and the ranks were rapidly formed by their young ser 
 geant. All athrill with martial enthusiasm by this 
 time, the judge was standing on the piazza shouting 
 encouragement and applause. Lucy, breathless with 
 kindred emotion, had hastened down and was clinging 
 to his side. The captain came riding around from the 
 barn, and at sight of her straightened gallantly up in 
 his saddle and gave her a soldier's salute with his 
 gauntlet ; then, as though sudden impulse possessed 
 him, reined about and rode to the foot of the steps. " It 
 is an advance in force, I doubt not, Miss Lucy, and 
 there are fifty times our number in our front, but the 
 Warrenton Rangers will glory in showing you their 
 mettle. Some one has betrayed to them the presence 
 of my little outpost here, and they hope to cut us off. 
 We'll cut our way through." 
 
 " Well, but, captain, suggested the judge, " there 
 don't seem to be many of them as yet. You can easily 
 slip back here through the Gap, and get around to 
 your comrades in that way. Why do you think there 
 are so many ?" 
 
 " They would not venture this far except in strong 
 force. No doubt, if we could only see, the whole 
 country in front of Thoro'fare is filled with them. If 
 it is so, then we may have to fall back through Hope- 
 ville ; but my Rangers never yet went back except be 
 fore overwhelming odds. Ready ?" he asked, as the 
 lieutenant rode up with soldierly salute. 
 
 " All ready, captain."
 
 112 BETWEEN THE LINES. 
 
 " Very well. You take your platoon from the right 
 and trot out and check those fellows till we see what 
 they're made of." 
 
 All eagerness and spirit, the young soldier obeyed. 
 He was a Virginia boy, brave as they make them, and 
 it was his first chance ; his cheek flushed, his eye kin 
 dled as he glanced up one moment at Miss Armistead's 
 glowing face. Her beauty seemed to inspire him with 
 double rage for battle. Never heeding or listening to 
 the captain's promise to " support him," he struck spurs 
 to his charger, wheeled short about, and clattered out 
 to the impatient troop. Another moment he and the 
 platoon had disappeared among the trees down the 
 road to the right. 
 
 The rain seemed holding up. The clouds to the 
 west were breaking, and presently, as Falconer bowed 
 low over the pommel and rode out to his men, the 
 watchers on the piazza saw that the sunbeams were 
 bursting here and there in brilliant little shafts of gold 
 through the drifting veil. One of these broad shafts 
 of glistening color fell full on that dun - red furrow 
 crossing the valley eastward, and then the shadowy, 
 spectral horsemen a mile away stood forth in bold re 
 lief. Ay ! there were the pale blue capes of the cav 
 alry overcoats. There in their midst fluttered the 
 little guidon the stars and stripes in miniature. In 
 front of them, well out across the fields, rode wary 
 troopers peering into the bridle-paths and wood roads, 
 watchful against surprise. Behind them, several hun 
 dred yards, covering the road until it disappeared 
 among the distant woods, marched a compact column
 
 BETWEEN THE LINES. 113 
 
 of cavalry. No man could say how many more there 
 were. Those in sight were enough to swallow alive, 
 the soldiers said, the little detachment sent down to 
 challenge and check them. 
 
 Too late now ! Young Virginia has received his 
 orders, disappeared, and though Falconer has time to 
 send a sergeant at the gallop to recall the youngster, 
 and though he himself promptly moves his troop by 
 the right flank, he gets no farther than the crossing of 
 the Hopeville road. The Armisteads believe he has 
 gone to the support of his subaltern as he promised, 
 but it seems not. 
 
 All of a sudden, down at the front they see commo 
 tion among those leading and widely dispersed troop 
 ers. Then that they are opening fire ; then whirling 
 about and scurrying for protection. Then the next 
 thing that comes into view is a dark line, a little party 
 of horsemen following a single leader, and, all unsup 
 ported, all undaunted by the odds against them, down 
 the road they go in headlong charge. Twenty Vir 
 ginians dashing recklessly into the teeth of an advanc 
 ing regiment. There is one moment of wild yells, of 
 sputtering hoofs, of stirring trumpet calls ; the horse 
 men are all intermingled in a surging mass in the 
 muddy road, and then the whole Federal column seems 
 to take the trot and sweep resistlessly forward. Four 
 or five dingy gray jackets and plumed felt hats come 
 riding lamely back, pursued by a score of sabres or 
 popping revolvers, and the young Virginian has car 
 ried out, according to the best of his inexperienced 
 ideas on the subject, the captain's orders to " check
 
 114 BETWEEN THE LINES. 
 
 those fellows " but he may look in vain for the prom 
 ised supports. Falconer has seen enough of the fight 
 to warrant him in a rapid trot through Hopeville Pass, 
 and the household at the homestead has no longer a 
 jailer. 
 
 A riderless horse comes galloping up the road and 
 into the gate. No one knows to whom he belongs, 
 but old Nelse is on hand and speedily leads him around 
 to the barn.
 
 XI. 
 
 FOB nearly two hours that afternoon there was 
 clamor and scurry down the range. Several squad 
 rons of Union cavalry, at rapid trot, swept through 
 the mountain road below the homestead, their trum 
 pets echoing their liveliest peals among the rocky 
 heights, but the main body seemed to concentrate on 
 Thoro'fare, where vehement defence was made, and 
 where charge after charge was necessary before the 
 Gap was carried. The sun had come out warm and 
 clear, and, unable to restrain his desire to see all that 
 could be seen, and anxious to learn the fate of the lit 
 tle platoon of Virginians who had so daringly chal 
 lenged the advancing host, the judge took his cane 
 and trudged sturdily forth, announcing his intention 
 of going down to the field below the heights, where 
 some burial parties could be seen at work. It was al 
 most sunset when the sound of distant firing and cheers 
 and trumpet calls at last died away in the south ; the 
 clouds lifted from the valley, and the roofs and walls 
 of far-away villages and hamlets gleamed in the radi 
 ance of the declining orb, or blushed in the glow of 
 the reddening skies. Lucy Armistead leaned against 
 the old white balustrade, looking out once more upon 
 the gorgeous panorama of the broad valley, lovelier
 
 116 BETWEEN THE LINES. 
 
 than ever after its long immersion in the rain-clouds. 
 All seemed still and peaceful again except the sight of 
 those pygmy parties digging shallow little trenches 
 down there in the fields. Nearly two hours had her 
 father been gone, and she was beginning to feel strange 
 ly nervous and ill at ease. She had sent for Nelse, but 
 Nelse had disappeared ; so had the horse ; and some 
 thing told her that he had gone to their late guest and 
 patient that if possible he would" bring him back. All 
 day long her heart had been filled with wretched anx 
 iety. Nelse had, indeed, succeeded during the night 
 in running the blockade and carrying food and blank 
 ets to the fugitive, but he brought back word that he 
 seemed " porely," and had evidently suffered severely. 
 For nearly a month he had been her helpless and de 
 pendent charge. To her nursing and care and cease 
 less attention he owed perhaps his life itself he had 
 not hesitated to say so ; he had done more he had 
 striven to assure her that everything life might bring 
 to him fortune, fame, honor all the depth and devo 
 tion of his love he would lay at her feet ; but she had 
 almost rudely checked she would not listen to him. 
 
 And now his friends and comrades were here in force, 
 and soon must come to claim their own. No longer was 
 he hers to do with as she chose. Henry's once inti 
 mate and confidential friend, he had been intrusted to 
 her care when life and liberty were the forfeit of her 
 lack of vigilance. "Whatever had been the cause of 
 the estrangement that had arisen between them in their 
 college days, the brother had assured her that the feud 
 was ignored when they met at Richmond, and now, at
 
 BETWEEN THE LINES. 117 
 
 the possible cost of his commission in the service, he 
 had snatched the wounded soldier from the jaws of 
 captivity and hidden him under the refuge of his 
 father's roof. There, well her woman's heart assured 
 her, Henry's friend became her lover ; he who sought 
 the defeat and downfall of her people would have won 
 her for his wife. Tremblingly, in one brief interview 
 before he was spirited away in the blackness of the 
 night, he had begged her pardon for the kisses he 
 rained upon her hand, but told her it was love that 
 drove him mad and she would hear no more. 
 
 Twilight came ; then hoof-beats and voices down 
 the road ; the jingle of scabbards and a trumpet call. 
 Another little column of Union cavalry turned into 
 the winding Pass and went clattering up the Gap. 
 Silence again, and then a halting, feeble footfall in 
 the darkening hallway behind her. Her little hands 
 clasped tightly round the railing ; her heart seemed 
 to stand still one instant, then to beat tumultuously. 
 She knew it must be Kearny returned to her once 
 more. 
 
 Slowly, painfully he reached the threshold, and stood 
 there leaning against the doorway, irresolute, gazing 
 at her with all his heart in his eyes. At first she could 
 not at last she had to turn and greet him, for his 
 silence frightened her. One glance at his face and she 
 almost sprang to his side. 
 
 " Oh, how you must have suffered ! Sit here," she 
 said, rapidly drawing towards him the judge's easy- 
 chair. " No. Sit down !" she insisted, as he held 
 back and tried to speak. With her own hand she half
 
 118 BETWEEN THE LINES. 
 
 guided, half supported him until, obeying her, he sank 
 exhausted into the seat. Then she hastened to her 
 father's study, and presently reappeared with a goblet 
 in her hand. " Drink," she said, and held it to his 
 lips until he had drained the last drop. 
 
 " Is that my stirrup-cup ?" at last he questioned, 
 smiling faintly. 
 
 " Your friends are here, or all around here, as you 
 doubtless know, but you are in no condition to travel. 
 Father will insist that you remain until you are." 
 
 " My regiment is among those fellows somewhere ; 
 and even were they not here I could no longer stay. 
 Even were I able to send word at once to those who 
 are doubtless mourning me at home, I would not spend 
 another night under this roof, even though in going I 
 offended so courteous a gentleman as your father. 
 You alone have power to bid me go or stay, and you 
 have shown me all too plainly that my presence here is 
 most distressing to you." 
 
 She was standing there before him, a light mantle 
 wrapped about her shoulders. She was looking far 
 away. She could not trust herself to gaze down into 
 the pleading eyes uplifted to her face. His faltering 
 accents, the piteous weakness of his voice, were almost 
 more than she could bear. 
 
 "I do not want you to go until you are well," at 
 last she murmured. 
 
 " Ah ! That is where it hurts," he broke forth, im 
 pulsively. " That is woman's compassion pity for 
 mere physical suffering. You would have me stay 
 until strength returns to muscle and limb. I would
 
 BETWEEN THE LINES. 119 
 
 have you bid me stay forever, or at least until you 
 would go with me to the world's end. I I have 
 learned here to love you with every fibre of my being, 
 to live only in the touch of your sweet hand, the smile 
 of your exquisite face. No ! no ! I will speak, Lucy. 
 You shall not turn from me now. Oh, for God's sake 
 do not go, or you will break my heart," he pleaded as 
 she would have rushed past him into the house. He 
 seized her dress with one feeble, clutching hand, and 
 drew its folds towards him until both could clasp it. 
 " Nay. I'm going this night. 'Tis no disgrace, dis 
 honor, to any woman, North or South, to be loved as 
 I love you, and with me 'tis life or death. I tell you 
 my whole heart ; my very soul is filled with one in 
 finite longing, one passionate love for you who have 
 nursed me back to life. Oh, my darling ! my beauti 
 ful ! was it only to toss it aside in contempt that you 
 aroused it all ? Lucy ! Lucy ! Can nothing plead for 
 me ? Can nothing bring me the right to stay ? Speak 
 to me. I'm not the man to shrink from Fate. I will 
 know why it is you spurn and turn from me. Do 
 you hate all Northern men so bitterly that I must be 
 only alien, enemy, and stranger from this time forth ? 
 Tell me." And now he had seized her hand, but this 
 she would not brook, and wrenched it almost violently 
 away. 
 
 " I never gave you grounds for such a feeling towards 
 me," she faltered. "I strove to make you see to 
 make you understand it was all impossible." 
 
 " But why why ? I know all this. Heaven knows 
 it is needless to remind me of the way you avoided
 
 120 BETWEEN THE LINES. 
 
 and shrank from me from the first moment I was mad 
 enough to betray myself ! That does not satisfy 
 that does not explain. My race is as proud and as 
 prominent as your own. Your brother held no friend 
 ship equal to mine ; we were closest friend? devoted 
 friends until a silly, boyish quarrel parted us for a 
 time. I am a Northerner, and true to my flag and the 
 Union. You are Virginian, and hold us as enemies. 
 But this war cannot last forever. We are one people. 
 Time and again did not our forefathers fight in civil 
 feud, sometimes on opposite, sometimes on the same 
 side, only to be the stronger and better friends till now? 
 Will not this quarrel end as all such dissensions have 
 ever ended? We were together when the Red and 
 White Roses battled for the crown. We fought each 
 other hard when the Stuarts strove against the House 
 of Hanover. You were Roundheads when we were 
 Cavaliers ; you were with Washington when many of 
 mine still wore the scarlet of King George, though 
 our name had hated the house from which he sprung. 
 Civjl war has come upon us again. We battle for the 
 Union, you for its disruption; but no nation will let 
 such strife go on forever. Lucy ! Lucy ! I cannot 
 stay, and day by day fall deeper and deeper in the 
 toils of a hopeless love. God knows if I go this night, 
 my heart bides here. Think, think, sweet one ; have 
 you no word of hope for me not one ?" 
 
 Still she stood there, her bosom heaving now, her 
 head averted, drooping ; her eyes though he saw 
 them not brimming with tears. His pleading would 
 have moved a stony heart if it lay but in a woman's
 
 BETWEEN THE LINES. 121 
 
 breast, and hers was young and pure and tender, and 
 longing to love and to be loved. She strove to speak, 
 but words would not come just then. There rose up 
 before her the memory of that last talk with Henry ; 
 of something he once had half confided before that 
 time, and so long as her brother's words could live in 
 her heart, no other answer would she give the man 
 whose very life seemed hanging on her words. 
 
 She started suddenly from his side. There was a 
 rustle in the shrubbery close at hand ; a smothered ex 
 clamation as thou-gh a man had stumbled ; then muffled 
 footfalls, then silence. 
 
 "Some one was there listening!" she exclaimed, 
 startled and trembling. " I'm sure I saw a figure go 
 skulking off towards the orchard through there," she 
 pointed. 
 
 Kearny had risen painfully, and now once again 
 stood close at her side. 
 
 " No one who can do you harm," he said. " As for 
 me, I am past harming if you will not answer me. 
 Lucy, you are no vain coquette, toying with a man's 
 strong love to feed a woman's vanity. Day by day I 
 have had no thought, no study but you, and I would 
 stake my soul on your truth." 
 
 " It is because because you've had no other study 
 that you think as you do," she quickly spoke, the 
 woman in her seizing at the chance. " When once 
 again you are among your own, 'twill not be so." 
 
 "Among my own!" he echoed, indignantly. "Among 
 my own ! You are no true woman if you do not well 
 realize this day that on all this earth there lives but
 
 122 BETWEEN THE LINES. 
 
 one I crave to call my own. You shall not trifle with 
 me, Lucy. I must have my answer now, though it 
 send me from you in desolation. You do not love me 
 that I know ; but is there reason, good reason, why 
 I should never win you ? Look at me ! Oh, my dar 
 ling, though I read my death-warrant in your eyes, I 
 will see them once more," and with his trembling hands 
 he turned and lifted her sweet, pale face until it was 
 close to his so haggard, so roughly bearded now, yet 
 so eloquent and glorified with the strength and fervor 
 of a man's love. 
 
 " Now tell me. Is there reason ?" 
 
 "Do you not know it yourself?" she answered at 
 last, and her tear-dimmed eyes gazed full into his. 
 
 He started as though stung. 
 
 " Oh, my God ! I was told I was sure Lucy ! 
 do you mean there is another ?" 
 
 She trembled now from head to foot. His shaking 
 hands dropped helplessly. He waited, breathless, for 
 her answer, and at last it came : 
 
 " You know you ought to know thei'e is another." 
 And she turned and fled. 
 
 He leaned against the balcony for support. All his 
 strength, such as it was, had left him now. All his 
 manhood, pride, vehemence, will, and passion seemed 
 crushed and broken. He bowed his head upon his arm, 
 trying to think, trying to understand, while all seemed 
 reeling about him. What was it Hannah had told 
 him ? Certainly there were men who sought her hand; 
 certainly she had admirers, but not one for whom she 
 cared a straw. He had not sought to pry into her se-
 
 BETWEEN THE LINES. 123 
 
 crets, but after she withdrew herself from his society, 
 Hannah had chattered ceaselessly, and he could not 
 but listen. And yet after all after all, with her own 
 lips she had told him he ought to know it was his 
 right to know there was another who stood between 
 him and the hope of his life. What were wounds, 
 suffering, delirium, death to this ? 
 
 Then there came a moment or two in which he heard 
 nothing saw nothing. He was very weak, and the 
 privation and exposure of the last forty-eight hours 
 had done their work only to be supplemented by a 
 blow like this. Did he fall ? He could not tell. He 
 was dazed, confused, wandering. Was it all a dream ? 
 Here he lay once more in the big arm-chair, a soft hand 
 bathing his forehead ; that same sweet, exquisite face 
 with a world of anxiety and tenderness in the violet 
 eyes gazing into his as he wearily opened his own ; 
 old Nelse standing by his side, pouring forth voluble 
 expression of sympathy. Was it possible that for one 
 instant before consciousness fully returned he felt the 
 pressure of warm, soft lips upon his forehead ? It was 
 all so vague, so dreamy. Looking up, he saw onoe 
 more the face he loved. But 'twas all true. She must 
 have meant what she said. There was the very look 
 in her eyes, the very expression that hovered about her 
 mouth. 
 
 " Go back now, Nelse," he heard her say, " and find 
 your master. It is time he had returned." 
 
 Then came trampling hoofs, clattering sabres, jing 
 ling spurs. Half a score of horsemen rode into the en 
 closure. Three dismounted and rapidly ascended the
 
 124 BETWEEN THE LINES. 
 
 steps, two in the uniform of officers of the Union cav 
 alry halted short as though stunned at sight of the re 
 cumbent figure before them and the slight, girlish form 
 at its side ; the third, in civilian dress, kept a little in 
 the background. It was this last one who was first to 
 speak. 
 
 " Gentlemen, are you satisfied ? Did I tell the 
 truth ?" 
 
 " JZearny /" exclaimed the foremost officer. "My 
 God ! Is this you ?" Then he turned. " There is no 
 alternative, major?" 
 
 " None, sir. Carry out your orders." 
 
 " Lieutenant Kearny, you will prepare to return with 
 us at once a prisoner in close arrest."
 
 XII 
 
 " THE winter of our discontent " had come upon the 
 Army of the Potomac. The bloody sacrifices, the he 
 roic efforts of the regimental officers and the rank and 
 file had all been neutralized by the timid and vacillat 
 ing leadership of those to whom the highest commands 
 had been intrusted. Lee was back along the Rapidan, 
 skilful and strong as ever. McClellan was relieved; 
 several old favorites of the Peninsula campaign no 
 longer rode at the head of their corps or divisions, 
 though still wearing their general's stars in Washing 
 ton, or on distant and less prominent fields. Others, 
 like Phil Kearny and Stevens, had fought their last 
 fight and gone to their soldier rest. A new leader 
 transferred the scene of conflict to the heights of 
 Fredericksburg, and the loyal and patient army 
 tramped obediently thither only to find the crests 
 along the southern banks of the stream bristling with 
 the bayonets and batteries of Lee. The administra 
 tion complained of McClellan that he could not be 
 induced to attack unless his force was overwhelming 
 ly superior and victory was certain. It seemed to de 
 mand that its generals should be made to fight, and 
 the new commander proceeded to satisfy the nation 
 that the Army of the Potomac would shrink at noth-
 
 126 BETWEEN THE LINES. 
 
 ing by "butting its head against a stone wall," and 
 assaulting Lee in an impregnable position. 
 
 More mourning at home; more gaps and vacancies at 
 the front ; more courts and investigations and " com 
 mittees on the conduct of the war" at Washington 
 followed as a matter of course. Another removal, 
 another experiment, another commander, another 
 splendidly planned passage of the fords and swoop 
 upon the Confederate left, another senseless delay. 
 Then, on the other hand, another daring, brilliant, 
 defiant march from front to flank, another supei-b as 
 sault, and the luckless Army of the Potomac is doubled 
 up by a single corps led by that indomitable Jackson. 
 A winter of discontent and gloom, indeed, to all the 
 Union army in Virginia to all the loyal North ; and 
 a winter of sore trial and bitter suffering for one young 
 cavalryman in particular Mr. Frank Kearny, of New 
 Jersey. 
 
 No words can well describe the wrath and indigna 
 tion with which he learned that a charge of desertion 
 had actually been laid at his door. With the excep 
 tion of the major and adjutant, he saw none of his 
 comrades on the night of his "recapture" at the 
 Gap. He was conveyed in an ambulance to Centre- 
 ville, and thence to Washington, where for weeks he 
 lay desperately ill. Influential relatives were speedily 
 on hand to see that justice was done him. A devoted 
 mother, a devoted cousin Miss Paulding, of New 
 York hastened to his bedside, and his bodily suffer 
 ings were soothed as only women can soothe and com 
 fort; but there are mental tortures that even the infi-
 
 BETWEEN THE LINES. 127 
 
 nite pity of mother-love can never reach, and, when 
 not delirious, Frank Kearny was a victim to a dejec 
 tion too profound for comfort of any kind. The ex 
 posure, the bitter disappointment, the final shock and 
 outrage to his soldier honor of those last two days at 
 Hopeville, had brought on a relapse that laid him at 
 the very door of death. His regiment had pushed 
 on through Thoro'fare Gap on the night he was re 
 vealed at the Armisteads' to the eyes of the designated 
 officers, precisely as the scout Tierney, when confront 
 ed, had predicted and promised. The adjutant quick 
 ly saw that his comrade must have been severely 
 wounded, and would have attributed his apparent de 
 sertion to that cause, but the major was a man who 
 had little faith in human nature. He only saw the 
 pretty girl at Kearny's side, and, to his mind, Captain 
 Mullane's scandalous report was substantiated in all 
 
 its bearings. While the New Jersey trotted on 
 
 up to Front Royal that next day, the talk at every 
 rest was of Kearny's astonishing escapade. The ma 
 jor had rejoined, and "had the floor;" and Kearny, 
 being absent and unrepresented, could expect nothing 
 else than the " toujours tort" of tradition. Charges 
 and specifications were duly formulated by the major, 
 who cited as witnesses the regimental adjutant, now 
 temporarily absent conducting the accused and raving 
 officer to the lines of Washington, Captain Mullane, 
 the major himself, the general of division who on the 
 night of August 28th had ordered or authorized Mr. 
 Kearny to rejoin his regiment, the other division com 
 mander who had given him despatches to carry to
 
 128 BETWEEN THE LINES. 
 
 Buford, and finally the civilian Tierney, who was in 
 the secret service of the War Department. 
 
 There was no one in the cavalry brigade to fight his 
 battle for him; none but Confederate soldiers could 
 tell how he strove to cut his way through their patrol 
 and carry out his orders ; none but they to bear wit 
 ness that his horse was killed and he himself dragged 
 from underneath, senseless, crushed, and bleeding ; 
 none but they to tell how he had been conveyed to a 
 farm on the upper road, his wounds dressed, and hia 
 identity discovered by Captain Armistead. Even they 
 could not tell and did not know that, after they re 
 joined their squadron on the following day, the young 
 captain had gone back to the farmhouse where the 
 wounded " Yank " still lay unconscious, and there 
 wrote the note to his father at Hopewell, and having 
 bundled the senseless prisoner into a straw -covered 
 wagon which, with two negroes, he had hired for the 
 purpose, he sent him to that father's home under the 
 guidance of a sergeant of his own troop on whose 
 fidelity he could depend to the very death. There 
 was no one to tell how long the Union officer lay there 
 unconscious; how he strove to communicate with his 
 comrades when consciousness returned; how he had 
 escaped from his would-be captors when Major Gor 
 don came up from Richmond. It all went against 
 him in the cavalry brigade, and the charges were duly 
 forwarded to Washington. There, however better 
 counsels prevailed. The surgeons were prompt to 
 testify that with such wounds and injuries as he had 
 evidently received there must have been some mis-
 
 BETWEEN THE LINES. 129 
 
 take. When consciousness returned the accused offi 
 cer was able to tell his story, and though he knew it 
 was Henry Armistead who rescued him from Libby 
 and sent him to a refuge where he could be sure of 
 care and comfort this feature he was bound in honor 
 to conceal. It would have leaked out in short order, 
 become known to the many Southern sympathizers at 
 the capital, and been speedily transmitted to the Con 
 federate army, to the probable severe censure, if not 
 disgrace, of his devoted friend. Not even to his mother 
 did he knowingly mention this incident, but there was 
 one who sat by his side when fever raged in his veins 
 and wild, wild incoherencies were on his tongue. One 
 who listened with quivering lips and tightly clasping 
 hands to the constant moaning mention of that name 
 Lucy and whose eyes filled and whose whispered 
 prayers called down blessings at the frequent allusion 
 to Henry Henry Armistead Henry's sacrifice for 
 his sake. Long before Frank Kearny was able to sit 
 up, propped by pillows and nursed by loving hands, 
 Kate Paulding knew that his heart was irrevocably 
 lost to some Virginia girl, and divined that it was 
 Henry Armistead who bore him from his original 
 captors to a place of safety. Oh, what a host of rec 
 ollections was summoned up by that name! Oh, what 
 a revelation of shattered hope and bitter loss there 
 came to her in the still watches of the night, in the 
 repeated mention of that other name Lucy! When 
 Frank Kearny returned to convalescence and was able 
 to totter feebly about the rooms and gradually to face 
 the situation, his was not the only heart that bore a 
 9
 
 130 BETWEEN THE LINES. 
 
 weight of silent, ceaseless, gnawing pain; but none, 
 to look at her, would dream for an instant that the 
 other throbbed in Katherine Paulding's breast. 
 
 Perhaps it was best for Kearny that he should have 
 such a burden of wrath and indignation against his 
 accusers, such a burning desire to hasten forth and 
 confront them. Both at the War Department and 
 Trenton, however, his case was by this time fairly 
 represented and fully understood. Letters from offi 
 cials high in rank assured him that the charges were 
 scouted and had been returned to the brigade and 
 regiment with the full report of the surgeons and his 
 own statement. From the governor he received the 
 offer of promotion to higher rank in a new regiment 
 just being raised. He thanked everybody for the 
 kindness extended, but what he longed for was a 
 chance to get back to the regiment. He would never 
 
 leave the New Jersey, he said, until he had faced 
 
 down every and any detractor in it, and but this he 
 never mentioned to any one in authority there was 
 one fellow in the cavalry brigade with whom he had 
 a score to settle. For that he must be patient and 
 hoard his strength. 
 
 Not until the guns began to boom at Fredericks- 
 burg was he able to rejoin the regiment. He had left 
 it youthful, buoyant, joyous, popular ; a splendid spec 
 imen of the young cavalry officer tall, handsome, 
 erect, with glistening eyes and glowing cheeks. He 
 returned aged as though by several years; stern, taci 
 turn, gaunt, haggard, and bearded, with eyes that no 
 longer glistened they simply burned. He received
 
 BETWEEN THE LINES. 131 
 
 the greetings of his fellows with quiet and reserved 
 demeanor; he was contemptuously cold to several; he 
 could evidently forgive none of them that there was 
 no one of their number to promptly write him at the 
 very outset that he, at least, could never believe such 
 charge as that alleged against him. The major he 
 " cut " dead. It was not the lot of the regiment to be 
 heavily engaged at Fredericksburg, but one or two 
 vacancies occurred among the field-officers and some 
 promotions. Frank Kearny somewhat coldly thanked 
 the officers who gathered at his tent when it was 
 known that he had been commissioned captain within 
 the week that followed the great and disastrous bat 
 tle. He spent much time in confidential talk with the 
 colonel and with two of his chosen friends, the adju 
 tant and Captain Dayton. He had had complete ex 
 planations from the former and a reconciliation with 
 him. As for the latter, he had been on detached duty 
 at the time the story gained ground in the brigade 
 that Kearny was "in hiding," and when it finally 
 reached his ears no words seemed adequate to express 
 his contempt for the originators. In some way it was 
 whispered about the camps that Frank Kearny " didn't 
 care a row of pins for the captaincy." It was known 
 that the governor had offered to commission him as 
 junior major of the new regiment, and that he had 
 declined " until he had settled some matters in the 
 cavalry brigade," and there was a decidedly uneasy, 
 not to say an apprehensive, feeling as to just when 
 and in what manner that "settlement" would take 
 place.
 
 132 BETWEEN THE LINES. 
 
 Every day Kearny seemed gaining in health. His 
 haggard face began to resume its wonted lines, and 
 yet 'twas greatly changed. 'Twas the beard did that, 
 said some of the commentators ; but the observant 
 men knew well that there was something behind the 
 crisp and curling mantle of brown hair. His eyes 
 still burned; his lips were set and stern; all the old 
 gladness and jollity were gone; the ringing laugh was 
 never heard. He shunned company ; spent most of 
 his time as they lay in camp drilling his men and 
 looking after his horses; he was eager and ready for 
 scouts and picket duty; he was in the saddle and the 
 open air hours at a time, and was giving much atten 
 tion to sabre exercise with the best fencer in the regi 
 ment, and to practice with the revolver. To the camp 
 of an adjoining regiment, brigaded with his own, 
 Kearny would not go at all; and it was not long be 
 fore the stories of his daily occupations were made 
 the subject of comment there. 
 
 "Look out for yourself, Mullane," said one of the 
 field-officers. "It's you he's training for. You'd far 
 better quit poker and whiskey now, and get in fight 
 ing trim." 
 
 And Captain Mullane laughed loudly, but his laugh 
 ter was not glad. One night he asked the major if he 
 thought a leave of absence could be obtained, "His 
 wife lay very ill at home ;" and the major told him he 
 would do what he could for him with the colonel now 
 commanding the brigade. 
 
 Tip to this time not one word had Kearny exchanged 
 with his brother officers as to the people with whom
 
 BETWEEN THE LINES. 133 
 
 he had been lodged and by whom he had been nursed 
 and tended. Though night and day Lucy Armistead 
 was in his thoughts, he shrank from any mention of 
 her name or allusion to her people. Inquiries had, of 
 course, been made by comrades interested in his strange 
 adventure, but in presence of his colonel he said to 
 one of them: "I cannot be sufficiently grateful to this 
 family, and the best way I can show it is to keep 
 their secret. It would subject them to utter ostracism 
 if their friends ever learned they had harbored a Yan 
 kee. It is my purpose to say nothing about them 
 until the war is over." 
 
 There had been great curiosity about the young 
 lady. The major had learned the name of the family, 
 but there was no one from whom they could learn 
 particulars. After pointing out the house and the 
 lieutenant, Tierney the scout had left them, and had 
 avoided the Jersey regiment from that day to this. 
 But the adjutant described her as lovely, and confided 
 to Dayton that she seemed utterly overcome with 
 shock and grief when Kearny was led away. It set 
 Dayton to thinking. 
 
 One cold winter's night when the moon shone down 
 on snow-sprinkled huts and glistening white canvas 
 along the Rappahannock, the adjutant was sitting at 
 the headquarters tent looking over the mail when 
 Kearny strode quickly in. 
 
 " Is it true," he asked, " that a leave has been grant 
 ed to Captain Mullane ?" 
 
 "I believe it is," answered the adjutant, uneasily, 
 He did not like the indications of storm.
 
 134 BETWEEN THE LINES. 
 
 "Then I want you to come with me to their camp. 
 Dayton goes too. No; I'm not armed. You need not 
 fear anything so serious. I want you to present me 
 to Captain Mullane. I have a question to ask him, 
 and you must witness his reply." 
 
 Wondering at the strangeness of the request and 
 the oddity of the proceeding, the adjutant went. The 
 three men strode silently across the moonlit field until 
 they reached the sentry-lines of the adjoining regi 
 ment, Kearny slashing at his boots from time to time 
 with the light rawhide he carried. He asked no ques 
 tions and vouchsafed no information as to his purpose. 
 The regiments were in winter-quarters, and many of 
 the officers were living in substantial little huts. It 
 was to a structure of this character that the three vis 
 itors were escorted by a corporal of the guard just as 
 the trumpets along the broad, treeless plain were 
 sounding the evening tattoo. 
 
 Sounds of revelry somewhat bacchanalian issued 
 from within. An officer came forth apparently on 
 the way to the roll-call of his company. He stopped 
 short at Kearny's hail, and replied hesitatingly to the 
 question, " Is Captain Mullane here ?" It was evident 
 that he scented mischief. 
 
 " May I trouble you to ask him to step outside a 
 moment ?" said Kearny, civilly. 
 
 " Who shall I say wants him?" asked the lieutenant, 
 suspiciously, yet with a certain air of defiance. There 
 was no love lost between the two commands, and he 
 knew the Jerseyman at sight. "His wife is ill, and 
 he starts for Acquia Creek in a few moments."
 
 BETWEEN THE LINES. 135 
 
 " Say that Captain Kearny desires a word with him." 
 
 A roar of laughter and the clinking of glasses told 
 of the climax of some camp-story as the door was re 
 opened. Then came a hush; then a muttered and ex 
 cited discussion. It lasted a moment, and then a 
 coarse voice exclaimed: 
 
 "There's only three of 'em, bedad! Go on out, 
 Mullane; I'm wid ye. Come on, fellers." 
 
 Presently out they came, half a dozen burly, half- 
 intoxicated men, and grouped themselves compactly 
 at the doorway. 
 
 " Which is Captain Mullane ?" asked Kearny, quiet 
 ly. " I have never been presented." 
 
 "I'm your man," was the answer, as a strongly- 
 built fellow of the ward-politician type stepped a lit 
 tle forward, yet not too far. 
 
 "Captain Mullane, in my enforced absence from 
 my regiment last September, you, it is claimed, start 
 ed the slander that led to my arrest. I have never yet 
 heard, or asked, the exact language. I have always 
 meant to hear it from your own lips. Will you repeat 
 it now ?" 
 
 The "rough" looked uneasily about him. Very 
 possibly he would have much preferred to lie out of 
 it, but the devil of drink was uppermost in his com 
 rades. They were many and the Jerseymen few, and 
 there came a growl of encouragement from behind him. 
 
 "Tell him to his face, Mullane. Devil a lie was 
 there in it!" 
 
 Thus adjured, and with sneering emphasis, the cap 
 tain spoke:
 
 136 BETWEEN THE LINES. 
 
 " What I said was that you were a man of sense. 
 Fighting wasn't to your taste as much as hiding away 
 a few weeks in your sweetheart's arms." 
 
 Kearny recoiled as though struck by a heavy blow. 
 The light switch he had meant to use dropped to the 
 earth beneath his feet. One instant only of silence. 
 Then came a spring like that of a tiger, and with the 
 low, fierce cry, " You hound!" he flew at the brawny 
 throat before him, and Mullane was hurled backward 
 into the mud, Kearny going down with him. 
 
 True to their tactics, learned in many a bar-room 
 brawl or election row, Mullane's comrades jumped to 
 the rescue of their champion, raining kicks and blows 
 upon his assailant. Dayton and the adjutant vainly 
 strove to reach the struggling and prostrate pair. It 
 would have gone hard with Kearny among those bru 
 tal boot-heels, but by this time scores of other officers, 
 not of the Mullane faction, with the colonel himself, 
 came flocking to the scene. Roll-call was forgotten. 
 The " roughs " were pulled away and banished to their 
 several quarters, and, bruised and breathless, Kearny 
 was lifted to his feet. His antagonist more slowly re 
 gained his, and in stifled rage responded to the stern 
 question asked him by his commander as to the mean 
 ing of such a disgraceful brawl. 
 
 " 'Twas him that struck me, sir," he said, indicating 
 Kearny, who, panting heavily and leaning on Dayton's 
 arm, was striving to regain breath. 
 
 "How say you, Captain Kearny?" asked the colo 
 nel, sternly still, for the breach of all discipline was a 
 sore offence to his rigidly soldierly views.
 
 BETWEEN THE LINES. 137 
 
 " I ask your pardon, colonel," was at last the slow 
 answer. " Never until to-night, from that man's own 
 lips, did I learn of the hideous insult he had put upon 
 me. I should have known that it was one that could 
 never be wiped out here. I will answer any just de 
 mand make any proper amende to you. But, as God 
 is my judge" and he pointed in quivering, menacing 
 wrath at Mullane " that man shall answer to me."
 
 XIII. 
 
 THE fracas in the cavalry brigade was a matter that 
 could not well be hushed up. Men had little else to 
 do for several weeks of wintry weather than entertain 
 themselves as best suited their various temperaments 
 and characters. The matter was discussed in all the 
 adjoining camps, and the drift of public opinion may 
 best be inferred from the brief but emphatic comment 
 made by nine tenths of the men who knew Mullane 
 "I wish he had killed him." Outside of the squad of 
 six or seven boon-companions he had not a friend in 
 the brigade. The great mass of gentlemen of whom 
 the officers of the various regiments were composed 
 had never associated with him. His allies were of the 
 class made famous in the days of " Big Six " in New 
 York and the "Northern Liberties" of the Quaker 
 City. A reputation as a political " boss " and a ward 
 bully at home was supplemented by a career of drink 
 ing, brawling, and poker-playing at the front. In no 
 battle had his voice been heard. Somehow or other 
 he had managed to keep out of the way of hostile 
 blade or bullet, and now he was gone, and no man re 
 gretted, though many envied, his going. Who would 
 not have given much to enjoy a fortnight with the 
 loved ones at home before the opening of the spring
 
 BETWEEN THE LINES. 139 
 
 campaign? Leaves of absence to officers and fur 
 loughs to enlisted men were only to be granted for 
 urgent cause, and there were not lacking those who 
 said they believed the letter Mullane filed with his 
 application was a bold forgery. He had a wife, there 
 was no question, and 'twas said by one of his cronies 
 that she was more than a match for him with her fists. 
 There was also a Dr. McNamara, whose attentions to 
 her, said the same authority, were not always strictly 
 professional ; and though he didn't doubt that Mac 
 could be induced to write a certificate that a man's 
 wife was dying in order to get him a furlough, he 
 thought it improbable that he would be in this in 
 stance. He would draw the line at Mullane. Other 
 unsavory things were said by his own cronies, now 
 that he had gone with his winnings and left them out 
 of pocket. Then there came soldiers of his squadron 
 to the colonel's tent to complain that they had given 
 their captain money to keep for them, and in some 
 cases had lent it at his request, and he had gone with 
 out a word to them on the subject. Take it all in all, 
 there was no sympathy for Captain Mullane and little 
 blame for Captain Kearny. Most men, to be sure, 
 said that he should not have soiled his hands by touch 
 ing such a blackguard, but no men, no man, in all the 
 cavalry brigade until that night dreamed what a depth 
 and breadth of insult had been conveyed to Kearny 
 by those words. Then Dayton's eyes were further 
 opened, and the adjutant, recalling the loveliness of 
 the girl whom he saw for that brief moment up by 
 Hopewell Gap, began to realize that it was the in-
 
 140 BETWEEN THE LINES. 
 
 suit to her, not to him, that drove Kearny mad with 
 rage. 
 
 As for Captain Kearny himself, he would talk with 
 no one. He begged a week's leave to go to "Washing 
 ton. Then the brigade commander sent for him. 
 
 "Kearny," said he, "give me your word that you 
 will not follow or further molest that fellow Mullane, 
 and I will go to General Hooker myself with your pa 
 per, and beg for a fortnight for you. No man de 
 serves it more, and it will do you good. You are 
 brooding too much over a trouble every one else has 
 long since buried." 
 
 " Who has cause to remember it, sir, as I have ?" 
 *. " I admit it, but let that drop. Give me your word 
 you are not going after Mullane will not touch him, 
 and I can get your leave." 
 
 And it was remembered all through the brigade 
 during the gloomy, dripping month that followed that 
 Kearny shook his head and would make no promise. 
 
 He wrote three letters that night, and they were on 
 the way to Washington before another sunset. Life 
 in the old regiment had become unbearable, he said. 
 He had accomplished the object of his return; every 
 accusation and accuser had been faced down, but it was 
 not in his "nature to easily forget or forgive the men 
 who so readily had given credence to his defamation. 
 "I love and I hate with equal strength," he wrote in 
 one letter. " There can be no half-way measure with 
 me." 
 
 In one week'g time, just as the roads were deepest 
 in mud, and soft with the coming spring, just before
 
 BETWEEN THE LINES. 141 
 
 the brigade began to find that stable duty could be 
 done without the cumbrous overcoat, so long as the 
 afternoon was sunshiny, there came an order from the 
 War Department which authorized the immediate 
 
 muster-out of Captain Frank Kearny, New Jersey 
 
 Cavalry, " to accept promotion," and it was known 
 that he had been commissioned by the governor as 
 major in a new regiment just taking the field. 
 
 The officers promptly came to their comrade's tent 
 to offer their congratulations, and then, as they strolled 
 away in groups of three or four, the question was dis 
 cussed as to how they could best give him what they 
 termed " an appropriate send-off." In his utter change 
 of mood and supposed change of character Kearny had 
 not been in the least companionable since his return. 
 No man knew the bitter sorrow at his heart; no one 
 knew how night after night, before he sought his pil 
 low, his eyes turned longingly to the stars in the north 
 ern heavens, and sometimes for lonely hours he sat in 
 silence watching them, wondering if they looked down 
 on her and the old homestead at Hopewell. Day by 
 day the love of her burned and glowed in his vehe 
 ment heart. Never for a moment could he force him 
 self to forget her the exquisite face, the soft, slender 
 white hands, the graceful, womanly form, and all her 
 dainty, soothing ways. Sometimes, like a sharp pang, 
 the agony of that parting came back to him the 
 memory of her solemn words, "There is another," 
 and he would start to his feet and stride up and down 
 in restless misery. Who who was the man who had 
 won her ? Who on all this earth could love and cher-
 
 142 BETWEEN THE LINES. 
 
 ish and reverence her as he would ever do ? No won 
 der he had no more the ready laugh for his comrades' 
 jests or joyous words for their daily greetings. Duty, 
 stern duty alone had nerved him to his work. He had 
 striven to forget her, and think only of his loyalty to 
 the flag; but at all times in every thought by day, in 
 every dream by night the face he idolized was mir 
 rored in his brain, and life itself was wrapped in love 
 of her. 
 
 And so it resulted that when Dayton came to tell 
 him of the project of a regimental jubilee in honor of 
 his promotion, and a parting "spread" to which the 
 officers of the brigade were to be bidden, Kearny al 
 most brusquely bade him put a stop to the whole 
 thing. He hurried around camp, saying brief fare 
 wells. He explained that he must hasten at once to 
 Trenton, as there were many things that had to be at 
 tended to at home before he could take the field again; 
 he thanked them for the honor they had contemplated 
 paying him, but said it would be impossible to wait 
 until the designated day. Every one noted his fever 
 ish eagerness to be gone, and Dayton, who rode with 
 him to the Potomac, and saw him safely aboard the 
 crowded steamer that was to bear him to Washing 
 ton, was annoyed when he returned to camp that night 
 by hearing a young lieutenant remark to the captain 
 of his troop, " I'll bet a hat he means to run Mullane 
 to ground before the fellow's leave is up." 
 
 Standing amid the throng of laborers and quarter 
 masters' employees at the dock at Acquia, and keenly 
 scrutinizing every officer and man who passed the
 
 BETWEEN THE LINES. 143 
 
 guard-line, was a tall, gaunt man in civilian dress. 
 His slouch hat was pulled down over his eyes; his 
 face was hidden by a heavy, bushy beard; he was 
 evidently well known to the officer in charge of the 
 provost-guard, for they were talking in low tones to 
 gether more than once. He was also well known on 
 the steamer, for twice he passed aboard without show 
 ing pass of any kind to the sergeant at the gang 
 plank. He was coming ashore from some sudden 
 dive into the darkness of the steamer's lower deck just 
 as Kearny and Dayton stepped upon the sloping stage. 
 He stopped short at sight of the former, whirled about, 
 and hastened forward out of sight. Kearny gazed after 
 him in odd interest. There was something strangely 
 familiar in the figure; but the face the beard he 
 could not recall at all. 
 
 "Who is that man in civilian dress who just went 
 forward?" he asked the purser of the steamer, who 
 was at the gangway. 
 
 " That ? He's a quartermaster's clerk who has charge 
 of the stores that are run down by us. Name is Free 
 man. Keen hand at poker, I'm told, but the steward 
 tells me Captain Mullane got away with most of his 
 pile the night they went up together. Guess you 
 don't want to play with him, though. Did you ever 
 see him before ?" 
 
 " I don't know," said Kearny, briefly. " Come, Day 
 ton, let us go on deck." 
 
 Captain Dayton recalled the fact, a few days later, 
 that Kearny had again inquired as to the name and 
 antecedents of the tall, bearded stranger. "I have
 
 144 BETWEEN THE LINES. 
 
 seen that fellow somewhere when he didn't wear that 
 beard, but I cannot think where. I don't like him, 
 somehow," he had said. And Dayton further noted 
 that when the steamer pushed off and went churning 
 her way up the Potomac the tall, bearded clerk went 
 with her. 
 
 Captain Mullane's fortnight's leave had well-nigh ex 
 pired when, on the following night, the cavalry brigade 
 was startled by news that caused many men to gaze 
 anxiously into one another's faces, and with eyes 
 that questioned. The burly Irishman was found shot 
 through the heart the very morning that Major Kearny 
 yeached Washington. The body was lying in a state 
 room close to that which the major had occupied, and 
 it ^as remembered by the guard on duty at the dock 
 that the captain was there to meet the steamer on her 
 arrival, and went aboard almost before she was made 
 fast. -No one had heard, in the noise of blowing off 
 steam and the tramp and uproar on the hurricane deck, 
 the sound of a scuffle and a single shot fired so close 
 that the dead man's coat was singed with flame and 
 his body "blackened with the powder.
 
 XIV. 
 
 THE major of Muliane's regiment was sent to Wash 
 ington to take charge of the deceased officer's effects 
 and to make such investigation as to the cause and 
 manner of his death as might be permissible by the 
 police. He was an honest and a dutiful soldier, a man 
 who stood high in the confidence of his colonel and 
 of his brother officers ; nevertheless, there was no lit 
 tle growling among the " Mullane crowd," as that 
 particular element among the commissioned force was 
 known, because that particular field-officer had been 
 selected, and not one of their own number. Captain 
 Moriarty was easily induced to go to the colonel as 
 chairman and spokesman of this spontaneous grievance 
 committee, and to say to him that the "f rinds" of 
 Captain Mullane considered that they had been ig 
 nored in the selection of Major Dalrymple, and, fur 
 ther, that in his hands it was not to be expected that 
 justice would be done : he was, and always had been, 
 hostile to Captain Mullane. The colonel allowed the 
 red-faced troop commander to proceed with his ha 
 rangue until his ideas gave out and he had to pause 
 for a moment. Then, without a word, the commander 
 held forth an opened copy of the "Revised Regulations," 
 and pointed to the paragraph which prescribed that 
 10
 
 146 BETWEEN THE LINES. 
 
 the major of the regiment should take charge of and 
 become responsible for the effects of deceased officers. 
 Moriarty stumbled over this a moment, and then, after 
 scratching his head in some perplexity, he hit on 
 another line of assault. 
 
 " But we have three majors, sir, and only wan of 
 'em was frindly to Captain Mullane. Couldn't Major 
 O'Neil be sent ? 'Twould be a source of satisfaction 
 to the frinds and family of the ' desayst.' " 
 
 " There are reasons why Major O'Neil cannot be 
 detailed, sir ; and Major Dalrymple, as commander of 
 Captain Mullane's battalion, is the only proper one to 
 send. That will do on that subject." 
 
 " Very well, colonel. Good-day, sir. I've simply 
 to say in conclusion, sir, that it's the belief of all Mul 
 lane's frinds that he was foully murdered without a 
 chance for his life, and that the man who did it was 
 Major Kearny, sir. Good-day to you, colonel." And 
 Moriarty went back to his friends to report the ill 
 success of his appeal, and to spread abroad the theory 
 that their late companion had met his death at the 
 hands of the New Jersey major. 
 
 Remembering all that had taken place, and con 
 juring up, as men and Christians will, all manner of 
 things that were of no import at the time of their oc 
 currence, but that became of serious moment now, it 
 must be admitted that there were strong grounds for 
 believing that no one would be more quickly pounced 
 upon as the slayer of Mullane than he who swore that, 
 as God was his judge, the Irish captain should answer 
 to him for the foul insult put upon his honor. Men
 
 BETWEEN THE LINES. 147 
 
 were very grave and reserved in the camp of the 
 
 New Jersey, and rather gloomy and vengeful in that 
 of their neighbors. The story went up from brigade 
 to division headquarters. There was no Bayard now 
 to stand the friend of the absent soldier. The gallant 
 cavalry leader, whose face had borne for years the 
 scars of savage warfare on the plains, had met his 
 soldier death at Fredericksburg, and another veteran 
 dragoon had recently stepped into the vacant place 
 " a new king who knew not Joseph" and when Dal- 
 rymple went on the next up trip of the steamer to 
 Washington he bore with him official letters that had 
 much to say of the late fracas between Kearny and 
 the murdered captain, and that told in no mild terms 
 of the former's furious threats. 
 
 It was four days before the officers of the Jersey 
 regiment were able to get the full text of Dalrymple's 
 report. The moment it was received by his colonel a 
 copy was made and handed to Captain Dayton, who 
 read it aloud to the assembled comrades. Not a word 
 was spoken even when he finished. Dayton folded 
 the paper and looked around at the circle of grave and 
 anxious faces. There were one or two in which he 
 read hopeful signs, but only one or two. Over in the 
 other regiment the reading of Dalrymple's letter had 
 produced but one impression : that Kearny was the 
 man. Here among the Jerseymen there was silence. 
 
 Summed up in its entirety, the case against Kearny 
 looked black as night. Coupled with his threats, his 
 wrath, his refusal to give a promise not to follow the 
 man if granted leave, the following uncanny array of
 
 148 BETWEEN THE LINES. 
 
 facts had been evolved, partially by Dalrymple, par 
 tially by the police, partially by telegraphic corre 
 spondence between Washington and Trenton : 
 
 Mullane's fortnight of leave of absence would have 
 expired the second day after Kearny's departure, and 
 he would be compelled to return on the down trip of 
 the steamer leaving Washington the evening follow 
 ing Kearny's arrival at the capital. For four days 
 after the captain's departure Kearny had been striving 
 to obtain leave of absence himself, only to refuse it 
 when offered him on condition that he would neither 
 follow nor molest Mullane. Then he wrote urgent 
 letters, and sent telegrams to the adjutant-general of 
 New Jersey and to influential friends in Trenton, say 
 ing that he would gladly accept the majority that had 
 been tendered him if there were now a vacancy. The 
 governor was visited in his behalf without delay; and 
 that very evening telegrams were sent him announcing 
 his new commission, and saying that the War Depart 
 ment had been urged to order him to report at once 
 to the governor of his state for duty in connection 
 with the equipment and instruction of his battalion. 
 It was known in camp that two telegrams came for 
 Kearny four days before the arrival of his orders 
 these were probably the telegrams referred to yet 
 not a word had he breathed to any one, even to Day 
 ton, of his coming promotion. Not a word did any 
 of his comrades hear of it until the orders themselves 
 were published ; yet he must have anticipated their 
 coming, for he was "packed" and ready to start al 
 most without loss of a day. All men remembered
 
 BETWEEN THE LINES. 149 
 
 his feverish impatience, his restlessness, his nervous 
 irritability, when urged to "hold over" that they 
 might give him a farewell dinner. 
 
 Then it transpired that no sooner had he received 
 telegraphic notification of his promotion and impend 
 ing orders than he addressed a letter to the adjutant- 
 general of his state saying that urgent personal mat 
 ters required his attention for a few days, and begging 
 that he might be authorized to delay one week in re 
 porting for duty with his battalion. To this, affirma 
 tive answer was sent by telegraph ; other despatches 
 had come to him both in camp and at the landing at 
 Acquia, as Dayton could not but remember. The 
 purser of the steamer recalled the fact that the major 
 paced restlessly up and down on deck until after mid 
 night. Other officers were aboard going to Washing 
 ton on sick leave, "furlough," or duty as many as 
 three or four dozen and they were having a jovial 
 time together much of the night, but Major Kearny 
 held himself aloof from all. " He seemed moody and 
 preoccupied." Before "turning in" he had given 
 orders that his trunk should be sent to Willard's and 
 his other baggage to the Baltimore and Ohio depot. 
 The baggage had been shipped, as " tagged," to Tren 
 ton. The trunk, duly marked with his name, had 
 been at Willard's several days, uncalled-for. 
 
 Major Kearny had disappeared ; no man knew 
 whither. 
 
 The steamer had reached her Washington dock just 
 after daybreak, said the guard. Several officers were 
 there awaiting the coming of friends, and the deceased
 
 150 BETWEEN THE LINES. 
 
 was particularly remembered as having driven down 
 in a carriage with two or three men, all of whom were 
 noisy and intoxicated. Mullane himself was more 
 than half drunk and in very surly mood. He had 
 some words with the officer of the guard, whose duty 
 it was to examine the papers of all persons in uniform 
 either going or coming, and lurched aboard the boat 
 almost before she was made fast, elbowing his way 
 among the crowd of officers in the gangway, and being 
 remarked by several for his unmistakably drunken 
 appearance. "A gen'l'm'n waitin' f'r 'im," was the 
 explanation he gave to the steward at the cabin stair 
 way, and that was the last seen or heard of him until 
 nearly half an hour later, when, in making the rounds 
 of the staterooms just vacated, the stewardess was 
 horrified to find in one of them, two doors from that 
 occupied by Major Kearny, the dead body of the cav 
 alry captain. Judging from the appearance of the 
 clothes, it had evidently been dragged in there ; a life- 
 preserver had been thrust under the ghastly head ; a 
 little water had been dashed over the face as though 
 the slayer had hoped, possibly, to revive his victim, 
 and the pitcher was there by the side of the body ; 
 then the legs had been doubled up and thrust aside 
 so that the stateroom door could be closed and the 
 ugly sight temporarily hidden; then the murderer had 
 slipped away. 
 
 Mullane's watch, his papers, his loose bills, perhaps 
 ten dollars in all, were found in his pockets. Buckled 
 around his waist was a broad money-belt, to which 
 was attached a revolver holster ; his coat and waist-
 
 BETWEEN THE LIXES. 151 
 
 coat were opened, and the belt displayed ; its com 
 partment for " greenbacks" was empty, and the flap 
 was open. This looked like robbery, since it was 
 known that he generally carried large sums with him. 
 His revolver, loaded and capped in every chamber, 
 was still in the holster. This put an end to the theory 
 of suicide. It was murder, evidently, for the victim 
 had not been allowed to draw in his own defence. 
 
 For their part, the police had learned enough to 
 blast such reputation for good as might remain to the 
 captain over and above his repute for ill. He had 
 gone home, but only for a day. His wife had not 
 been ill, nor had Dr. McNamara certified that she was 
 at the point of death, and craving to see her husband. 
 The police were of opinion that his arrival, all unan 
 nounced, was a matter of wild consternation to the 
 putative partner of his joys and sorrows, but he had 
 turned up too drunk to know the difference. .He had 
 spent several days in gambling and drink in Philadel 
 phia ; had reached Washington with two strangers 
 the evening before his untimely taking off, and it was 
 probable that the night was spent in gambling and 
 drink until these very fellows drove him to the boat 
 at dawn. Who they were the detectives had not. yet 
 discovered ; neither had they found the hack-driver. 
 Their theory was that the men were some of the 
 swarms of professional sharps and gamblers who hung 
 about Baltimore and Washington all through the war; 
 that they had fleeced and then gladly driven him to 
 the boat to get rid of him, and that he had not been 
 murdered for money. Now they were searching for
 
 152 BETWEEN THE LINES. 
 
 Major Kearny, who had not been seen or heard of 
 since the moment- of the steamer's arrival. Indeed, 
 no one saw him among the group of officers eager to 
 disembark the moment the dock was reached, and 
 every one aboard the boat believed that he must, 
 therefore, have been in the cabin or his own state 
 room when Mullane lurched up the winding, brass- 
 bound stairs to meet his tragic fate. 
 
 But no one saw him leave the steamer afterwards, 
 and this was singular. True, he could have stepped 
 off the guards, or let himself down from the upper 
 deck to the dock ; he might readily, too, have passed 
 the sentry at the pier ; for, after the rush of arrivals, 
 and the presumable passage out of all officers and men 
 coming up from the front, it would be an easy mat 
 ter. Civilians were coming and going, quartermas 
 ters' employees passing to and fro, and all manner of 
 distractions occurring to favor any one who wished 
 to slip out unnoticed. Indeed, the officer of the guard 
 could not say that Major Kearny was not among the 
 thirty or forty officers who disembarked at early morn 
 ing. He only " did not remember seeing such a name," 
 whereas there were now one or two who began to be 
 lieve that he passed out of the gate with them. They 
 knew him by sight, and he was pointed out on the 
 boat as "the fellow who bearded the Irish lion in 
 his den." 
 
 Kearny's stateroom was empty. He had a satchel, 
 a heavy overcoat, and a small leather valise when he 
 came aboard, and these had been duly taken by the 
 porter to his room. The valise was heavy, said the
 
 BETWEEN THE LINES. 153 
 
 porter, and big enough to contain a complete suit of 
 civilian dress if he had seen fit to change his clothes 
 and go ashore in " mufti ;" but with so much to carry 
 he could not have been very " spry " in his movements, 
 and he could not have hidden his big overcoat and 
 long dragoon boots in that valise. Yet they were 
 gone. Not a trace of him was left behind. 
 
 All this, though in terser form, Captain Dayton had 
 read aloud to the gathering in the colonel's tent, and, 
 as has been said, the report was received in utter si 
 lence. Dayton's voice was husky and tremulous when 
 he finished, and he waited some little time. Then, 
 raising his head and looking calmly around the circle, 
 he spoke in tones from which the tremor had suddenly 
 disappeared : 
 
 " Well, gentlemen, since no one has a word to say, 
 I see that I shall have to keep the floor. In the ab 
 sence of any expression of opinion from you, it may 
 not be inappropriate for me, who have known him 
 from boyhood, to say what I think. If for one mo 
 ment hitherto knowing Frank Kearny's high tem 
 per and his bitter rage against this man knowing, 
 too, rather more than most of you about the circum 
 stances attending his previous absence I had a vague 
 but hateful doubt of his innocence, it is set at rest at 
 once and forever by this very report. He never could 
 have done it." 
 
 It was a strange, solemn scene, that score of sol 
 dierly men gathered there in gloomy silence to delib 
 erate on the report which cast so dark a cloud upon a 
 comrade's name. It was evident that there were sev-
 
 154 BETWEEN THE LINES. 
 
 eral on whom its effect was very different from that 
 declared by Dayton. It was apparent that none were 
 quite ready to grasp the cause of his great relief. At 
 last came the question, 
 
 " Will you give your reasons, Dayton ?" 
 " Reasons ? Why, man alive ! think for yourself. 
 Mullane's pistol was in its holster, every chamber 
 loaded ; he never had a chance for his life ! Frank 
 Kearny might have fought him had they met, but he 
 is the last man to brand as an assassin, and you ought 
 to know it." 
 
 Dayton's loyalty to his friend, and serene confi 
 dence that he was entirely innocent and would re 
 appear in a day or so, ready and willing to account 
 for every moment of his absence, had no little weight 
 in the camp of the brigade ; but despite it all there 
 was widespread feeling that Mullane's sudden and 
 violent death was the outcome of the fray that had 
 been for the fortnight past the talk of every cavalry 
 mess along the plateau.
 
 XV. 
 
 JUST about this time there was the mischief to pay 
 in front of Washington. While the Army of the 
 Potomac was worrying through the winter as best it 
 could, and huddling about the camp-fires down in 
 front of Fredericksburg, a force of goodly size occu 
 pied the defences of the national capital. With its 
 right resting within the parapets of Forts Ethan Allen 
 and Marcy on the heights south of the Chain Bridge, 
 the defending line swept through a score of powerful 
 works until it reached the Potomac again below Alex 
 andria. Every road was picketed, every lane patrolled, 
 and the villages of Fairfax, Falls Church, and Vienna 
 were occupied at most times by outposts both of cav 
 alry and infantry. And yet, despite the strength of 
 the def endei-s and the vigilance of their videttes, " the 
 front " at that particular point was a place of unusual 
 exposure for wearers of the blue. Mosby, an active 
 and remarkably enterprising young leader, was at the 
 head of a body of " irregular horse," sometimes called 
 partisans south of the Potomac, and invariably known 
 as guerillas north of it. In numbers these night-riders 
 were variously estimated anywhere from one to fifty 
 thousand. The Union pickets along that front in 
 clined to the latter number as the more probable, and
 
 156 BETWEEN THE LINES. 
 
 no one who was not engaged in the delicate and hazard 
 ous duty of warding off Colonel Mosby's incessant 
 assaults that winter and spring ought to take excep 
 tion to this palpable exaggeration. If Mosby did not 
 count fifty thousand men in his command, and would 
 have been hard pushed to make it fifteen hundred at 
 his very best, he might as well have done so, for no 
 fifty thousand men in that section of Virginia ever 
 kept the lines of Washington in a state of livelier sus 
 pense and anxiety than did this band of hard-riding 
 " bushwhackers." They were nearly all youngsters, 
 born and bred in the old commonwealth. Nearly ev 
 ery man of their number knew every lane and bridle 
 path from the Hazel River below Warrenton to the 
 broad Potomac itself, and what they did not know 
 they soon learned. They had relatives or friends in 
 every house from the Blue Ridge to Alexandria, if 
 not beyond. There was not a man of them who had 
 not a sweetheart somewhere within that range and 
 not a few that had not more than one. It was not 
 surprising that Colonel Mosby soon enlarged the field 
 of his operations and took in the Shenandoah Valley 
 (and some Yankee paymasters funds and all) ; but 
 in the early spring of 1863 he was skipping here, there, 
 and everywhere in the immediate front of Washing 
 ton. Nobody could put a finger on him, but he put 
 a finger on every man who ventured forth ; and just 
 about the time Frank Kearny left the camp of the 
 cavalry brigade behind Falmouth, all the lines were 
 ringing with Mosby's latest exploit. He had swooped 
 down and carried off a "swell" brigadier-general of
 
 BETWEEN THE LINES. 157 
 
 the Union army from the outskirts of Fairfax, and it 
 was rumored that the very pretty girl at whose invi 
 tation the general had called that evening was Mos- 
 by's confederate. 
 
 For six months, ever since the transfer of the army 
 from Warrenton to Fredericksburg and the conse 
 quent abandonment of the railway as the line of sup 
 plies, Mosby had covered the country from the Bull 
 Run Mountains to the Union fortifications, and no 
 one could divine what might be going on behind him. 
 Now, irritated by the boldness of this last raid, there 
 seemed to be a disposition on the part of the govern 
 ment to send out a cavalry column to capture or drive 
 away these lively tormentors. A story had reached our 
 friends of the brigade that they were to be the lucky 
 ones to make the attempt, and they were glad enough 
 to go. Very few believed there would be any chance 
 of capturing such a Will-o'-the-wisp as Mosby ; but 
 there would be scouting, fighting, something to break 
 the monotony of camp life, and no man in all the brig 
 ade was so eager to go as Kearny. For six months 
 he had been able to hear nothing of the household at 
 Hopeville, and day by day the longing to know some 
 thing of the girl he loved had grown to the verge of 
 a mania. It was with bitter disappointment that he 
 found that the rumor of their being sent thither in 
 search of Mosby either had no foundation or that the 
 project was abandoned. It was now reported that 
 another command some new cavalry regiments had 
 been ordered out from Washington, but within the 
 Union lines there was far less confidence in the sue-
 
 158 BETWEEN THE LINES. 
 
 cess of the expedition than there would have been 
 had the object been declared a hunt for a needle in a 
 haystack. 
 
 Beyond the lines and all over the lovely tract of 
 country in the counties of Loudoun, Fairfax, Prince 
 William, and Fauquier east of the Bull Run range it 
 was a season of jubilee for all good Virginians whose 
 hearts were with the cause of the Confederacy ; all 
 households seemed wild with enthusiasm over Mosby's 
 exploits, and between his officers, his troopers, and the 
 populace of housekeeping women, children, and aged 
 men there was apparently but one instance of coldness 
 and distrust. There were sadness and suffering at 
 Hopeville, where good old Judge Armistead was slow 
 ly breaking down, crushed with the weight of sus 
 picion and calumny that had been heaped upon him 
 since the rescue of Lieutenant Kearny. 
 
 In less than three weeks it seemed as though every 
 man, woman, and child in all that section of Virginia 
 had been taught to point at Armistead the finger of 
 scorn. He was a traitor to his people, a protector and 
 abettor of the enemies and invaders of his state. He 
 had harbored, until he could return to his friends, the 
 man of all others the Virginians the young men, at 
 least most longed to have and hold : Lieutenant 
 Kearny; he who had driven off to captivity in North 
 ern dungeons such chivalric fellows as Pegram, Eus- 
 tis, and Falconer. True, all three of them were by 
 this time exchanged, and had rejoined their comrades, 
 by no means looking the worse for their few months' 
 sojourn in the inhospitable neighborhood of Washing-
 
 BETWEEN- THE LINES. 159 
 
 ton where old friends were allowed to visit them with 
 as many dainties and comforts and consolations as 
 though they had been wife-murderers condemned to 
 hang. All the same, there was a degree of rhetorical 
 pomp about the phrase " languishing in Northern dun 
 geons" which made it popular for the time being, and 
 served to keep up the sentiment against Judge Armis- 
 tead. It is a community that sticks at nothing in love 
 or hate. Life itself was too small to give to the cause, 
 or for the leaders they loved ; and, on the other hand, 
 no obloquy was too harsh for the man once honored 
 of them all but now a recreant to their trust. It was 
 universally told in farm and village circles, and it went 
 to Richmond, Staunton, and Lynchburg, that when 
 Armistead gave his word to Major Gordon that Lieu 
 tenant Kearny was nowhere on his premises, the Yan 
 kee was at that moment in hiding up-stairs ; there 
 were not lacking women to say, in Lucy Armistead's 
 own room. 
 
 For months he had been treated as a Pariah, and 
 poor Lucy had the bitter grief to suffer alone of see 
 ing her father breaking down under the burden of 
 accusation and aversion thus heaped upon him. Sev 
 eral times had Dr. Loring been summoned from across 
 the range, and twice since Lee returned to the Rapi- 
 dan had Henry managed to reach them for a brief 
 visit. In the army no such talk went the rounds as 
 that which passed current among the non-combatants 
 and the women. No rumor of dishonor attaching to 
 his beloved father's name had ever reached the son. 
 Bitterly he grieved at the suspicion and censure he
 
 160 BETWEEN THE LINES. 
 
 had brought upon his people in having compelled them 
 to undertake the care of Kearny, but he well knew 
 that the trust was sacred with them when once his 
 word was given. Not once had his father shown him 
 sign of the direful effect of all that month of secret 
 nursing. When the son was there, the father hid his 
 sorrows and made the boy welcome. Neither would 
 Lucy betray the true state of the case, and Henry had 
 on both occasions ridden back to his duties comforted 
 with the belief that the coldness would soon blow 
 over, and that by his own valor and devotion he could 
 soon outweigh and cause to be forgotten the apparent 
 defection at home. That he himself had urged his 
 father to harbor and protect Kearny was not known 
 to more than five persons ; this the father had in 
 sisted on. 
 
 One man, apparently, saw nothing in popular in 
 dignation which should compel him to discontinue his 
 visits to Hopeville or his attentions to Miss Armis- 
 tead, and that man was Captain Scott Falconer, who 
 with his squadron of "Rangers" was now attached 
 to Mosby's command. No week had passed during 
 the winter without its visit from him, and sometimes 
 he was at the old house two or three days. The un 
 happy invalid, now a prisoner in his study, looked 
 upon these frequent appearances as his only chance 
 of communication with the army in whose success all 
 his hopes were still centred, and he welcomed them, 
 even though he had not fancied Falconer in the past, 
 and hardly trusted him now. He knew that Lucy was 
 the magnet that drew him thither, and he, at any other
 
 BETWEEN THE LINES. 161 
 
 time and under any other circumstances, would have 
 found it possible to intimate that such frequent calls 
 were not desirable. Now he could not. He knew 
 well that Falconer had lost caste in the neighborhood, 
 and Falconer, with apparent reluctance, gave him to 
 understand it was solely because he would persist in 
 association with a tabooed man. The captain made 
 no mention of the fact that he was generally execrated 
 for his conduct the day of Bayard's sweeping advance, 
 when that gallant boy lieutenant was killed, and still 
 less was the captain apt to mention the fact that 
 Mosby had given him the cold shoulder on many an 
 occasion. 
 
 It was a sunshiny day in mid-March, and the snow 
 was gone and the roads were thawing, and it was evi 
 dent that spring would soon appear, and the spring 
 campaign be sure to open. For a week, despite the 
 softening weather, the judge seemed more downcast 
 than ever more hopeless and lonely. Lucy's heart 
 was heavy as lead as she moved about the house, 
 striving to prepare from the scanty means at hand 
 some tempting dish for the listless invalid, striving to 
 sing as she went about her ceaseless avocations that 
 he might believe her happy and buoyant, and never 
 suspect how many and many a day the tears rained 
 down her wan cheeks even as her voice was uplifted 
 in some old ditty he loved. Their means were well- 
 nigh exhausted ; the prospect of starvation was not 
 alluring ; provisions were scarcer and scarcer every 
 day, and when they could no longer buy there was no 
 one from whom they could ask aid, even if her pride 
 11
 
 162 BETWEEN THE LINES. 
 
 had not revolted at the idea. Henry sent everything 
 in his power, but captain's pay in Confederate money 
 was not a fortune in the spring of '63, and became a 
 pittance on which a Chinaman could barely live within 
 the year. Shut up in his room, the judge knew not 
 how, one by one, the cocks and hens had been con 
 verted into broth or chicken fricassee for his benefit 
 until all were gone. That he was still nourished by 
 the flesh of the domestic fowl was due to Nelse, and 
 a predatory ability and concomitant manufacture of 
 statements for which may Heaven give the old darky 
 absolution. Nelse stoutly swore he found the chick 
 ens " up the hill," where they had established a colony 
 supposably beyond reach of marauders. 
 
 Lucy Armistead's heart must have been sorely torn 
 with care and anxiety by this time, for when Falconer 
 appeared she almost welcomed him. 
 
 " You see how father is failing, Captain Falconer, 
 and Dr. Loring has not been near us for a fortnight. 
 I feel as though Henry must be sent for, and can I 
 ask you to get this letter to him ?" 
 
 " You can ask anything of me, Miss Armistead. 
 You well know that my house in Warrenton is vacant; 
 you know it is at your service and his. Can you not 
 induce him to move thither can I not induce you?" 
 
 She rebuked him gently, almost wearily. Her up 
 lifted hand looked fragile and white, and her face was 
 well-nigh as pale, though a faint color rose at his 
 words. " We have long since agreed that it was im 
 possible, captain," she said. " Do not do not speak 
 of it. He would not go; I could not."
 
 BETWEEN THE LINES. 163 
 
 " You could move him thither this very night, Lucy, 
 and to-morrow have him in comfort and safety, and 
 Henry only another day away. Here everything is 
 against him, and any moment we may be driven out 
 beyond the Blue Ridge. We know a big column of 
 cavalry is now in front of Washington preparing to 
 move upon us. Once they regain possession your last 
 chance is gone. Our scouts and pickets were attacked 
 at Fairfax and Chantilly this very morning, and I 
 know that Mosby expects an advance in force to-night. 
 It was this that brought me here. Can I never reach 
 your heart?" 
 
 He would have continued, but she checked his words. 
 
 " Look ! is not that one of your sergeants riding in ?" 
 
 The captain turned. It was just twilight, and grow 
 ing darker every moment. The man who entered the 
 gate threw his horse's reins over a post, and, saluting 
 Captain Falconer from the foot of the steps, held forth 
 a letter. 
 
 " Bring it here !" said the captain. " Where are 
 you from ?" 
 
 " From Aldie, sir. A column of Yankee cavalry 
 went through the Gap at daybreak and is over in the 
 valley behind you now. Another is pushing out from 
 Centreville. The 'Rangers' are ordered to cover 
 the pike and fall back on Warrenton so the lieuten 
 ant told me when I got in with despatches. He told 
 me to take a fresh horse and ride up to you." 
 
 Falconer opened his letter slowly. 
 
 " What troops have we out towards the front now ?" 
 
 " None, sir, north of the Warrenton pike at Grove-
 
 164 BETWEEN THE LINES. 
 
 ton. As soon as it was known that the Yankees pushed 
 through Aldie, everything was ordered down to con 
 front the other column ; but they're too heavy for us, 
 and our whole force is falling back to Gainesville now 
 and won't stop there." 
 
 " By Jove ! Then there's nothing between us and 
 Sudley Springs yonder?" 
 
 " None of our people, captain." 
 
 " Miss Armistead, I must see the judge one moment, 
 and then hasten away to join my men. This is just 
 what I have dreaded. Sergeant, mount your horse 
 and lead mine out on the road. I will join you in a 
 moment." 
 
 Five minutes later he came hurriedly forth. It was 
 nearly dark, and Hannah placed a dim light on a table 
 in the hall. Old Nelse came staggering through with 
 his arms filled with firewood, and nearly collided with 
 the captain. Anxious to send her message to Henry, 
 yet unwilling to have the servants suspect her appre- 
 hensiveness, Miss Armistead motioned to Falconer to 
 go on. 
 
 " I will accompany you to the gate," she said, as 
 they descended the steps. " Tell me, does your letter 
 say whether this is a large force one that will hold 
 the neighborhood for any length of time ?" 
 
 " I fear so. It looks so." 
 
 " Then put Henry on his guard. I had written to 
 him to come at all hazards before the end of the month. 
 N'ota I can no longer communicate with him. Warn 
 him not to make any attempt until the way is clear. 
 Adieu and thank you for your kindness."
 
 " The next instant a Ml figure burst through the hedge close by 
 lier side and stood silently before her."
 
 BETWEEN THE LINES. 165 
 
 She turned, trying not to see his outstretched hand; 
 then, relenting, placed hers one instant in his, and re 
 gretted it, for he quickly bent and kissed it fervently, 
 then sprang into saddle and spurred rapidly away. 
 
 The next instant a tall figure burst through the 
 hedge close by her side, and stood silently before her. 
 One quick glance was enough. Despite the felt hat 
 pulled low over his brow ; despite the full beard and 
 the shrouding cloak in which he was enveloped, she 
 knew him instantly her lover, her rescued one, her 
 patient of the year agone and despite herself a low, 
 glad cry leaped from her lips ; her heart gave a great 
 bound as she impulsively threw herself towards him ; 
 then she stopped short and covered her face with her 
 hands. 
 
 " Yes, it is I," were the words that greeted her. " I 
 could not bear it any longer. I had to see you again 
 or go mad. It is best so, I suppose. Tell me that 
 was Captain Falconer, was it not ?" 
 
 She looked up startled. She hardly knew his voice; 
 it was so changed so stern, so sad.
 
 XYI. 
 
 FOK the second time there was trouble for Kearny's 
 friends at court, and the Jersey delegation, between 
 the War Department and the police, were having rather 
 a solemn experience. Five days had elapsed ; the web 
 of circumstantial evidence had been woven still more 
 closely about the name of the missing officer, and no 
 one could be found who had the faintest clew to his 
 whereabouts. On the sixth day after Mullane's death 
 there came a new actor on the scene in the person of 
 Captain Dayton, and Dayton had been making some 
 investigations at Acquia, and on the way up the river. 
 He had a theory of his own regarding the matter so 
 he told, his colonel and had succeeded in getting a 
 few days' "leave" to consult certain officials at the 
 capital. 
 
 Meantime there had been coming from the front all 
 manner of tales of great doings on the part of the 
 two cavalry columns pushed out in hopes of capturing 
 Mosby. They had not caught him that would have 
 been too much to expect but they had chased the 
 Confederates well back beyond the mountain-passes ; 
 had had some sharp fighting, and claimed to have made 
 some important captures. The prisoners were being 
 sent in under guard as the despatches were penned.
 
 BETWEEN THE LINES. 167 
 
 All these were newspaper reports, however, and made 
 mainly to sell. In the long period of inaction while 
 the two armies were hibernating in Virginia there had 
 been little or nothing to chronicle, and the correspond 
 ents of the press as a consequence had been nearly at 
 their wits' ends. Now they were rushing despatches 
 through, filled with graphic details of brilliant cavalry 
 dashes and spirited combats in front of Vienna and 
 Fairfax, and lauding to the skies the prowess and valor 
 of certain new regiments that up to this moment had 
 seen no service whatever, and yet were by no means 
 averse to appearing as the heroes of the occasion. The 
 arrival of the newspapers in the camps at Belle Plain 
 and along the Rappahannock provoked no little deris 
 ion among the veterans there assembled, since old war- 
 dogs are always sceptical as to the unaided success of 
 the puppies. Nevertheless there was some credence 
 attached to the stories as read around the fires of the 
 
 New Jersey, for one of the officers prominently 
 
 mentioned as commanding one column had served as 
 their senior major in '61, and was now full colonel of 
 a new regiment. Under Graham's leadership anything 
 might be possible, and everybody waited for Graham's 
 official report. One thing was certain, our cavalry, 
 for the time being at least, held the gaps through 
 the Bull Run Mountains, and Mosby had gone else 
 where. 
 
 The first report that came from Colonel Graham 
 was one that gave rise to some consternation at the 
 War Department ; and as Graham was a New Jersey 
 man, it happened that some of Kearny's friends, in
 
 168 BETWEEN THE LINES. 
 
 their inquiries at the adjutant -general's office, were 
 favored with its contents. Dayton was not among 
 them, and he only heard of it later. It seems that the 
 colonel had set forth with every hope and expectation 
 of capturing the partisan leader himself, and punish 
 ing severely his command. He knew the very house 
 in which the renowned raider was to spend the night ; 
 he had accurate maps, and full and reliable informa 
 tion as to the position and numbers of the various 
 outposts as well as of the main body. He had given 
 no sign of a move that night, but, after the usual trum 
 pet calls for tattoo and taps, had saddled at ten o'clock, 
 and at midnight had surrounded the indicated build 
 ing only to find that his bird had flown, and with him 
 all his troops. Their flight had been hurried, but as 
 the advance was rapid they could not have slipped 
 away except by the receipt of timely warning ; and 
 this warning, he wrote, could have been given them 
 by a certain man in civilian dress a tall, bearded fel 
 low whom he well remembered as having been a scout 
 or secret-service employee in the Bull Run campaign 
 of the previous year, and who even then was looked 
 upon with some suspicion. His knowledge of the coun 
 try seemed so perfect, and his acquaintance with every 
 household, so far as their names and numbers were 
 concerned, so accurate, that it was considered rather 
 remarkable that one who claimed to have been long a 
 resident among these people should now be serving 
 their enemies. Furthermore, it was remembered of 
 him that he rode to and fro, by day or night, all over 
 the country, and was never molested. It was hardly
 
 BETWEEN THE LINES. 169 
 
 possible that the Virginians had not an inkling of his 
 connection with the government service, and it was 
 extraordinary that, knowing the nature of the duties 
 he was supposed to be performing, they did not string 
 him up by the neck to the nearest tree. For several 
 months, wrote Graham, he had lost sight of the man, 
 but remembered him the instant he was brought into 
 his presence the night of the advance remembered 
 him despite marked changes in his appearance, for a 
 heavy, bushy beard now covered the sallow face and 
 "lantern jaws" of the previous year. It seems that 
 he had been halted by the outermost sentries, and held 
 until the head of column came up, and he was disposed 
 to be very indignant at such treatment. His papers 
 were beyond question. There they were, all neatly 
 filed in a big, flat pocket-book his orders, his passes, 
 certain letters of instruction, and even a sort of circu 
 lar " to-whom-it-may-concern " commission, which en 
 joined all officers to give the bearer (" whose signature 
 will be found to correspond with that exhibited here- 
 on ") every facility in their power, and permit him to 
 pass to and fro without delay. 
 
 Despite these papers, Graham's mind was not set at 
 rest. The man had been held by the outposts because 
 he was seen galloping through a little winding lane 
 among the trees beside the pike, instead of holding 
 to the road itself. He was nervous, excited, eager 
 to push ahead, and it was his manner that made the 
 guards suspicious. After carefully reading his papers 
 by the light of a little camp lantern, Graham required 
 him to affix his signature to the page, and though
 
 170 BETWEEN THE LINES. 
 
 somewhat hasty and tremulous, there could be no 
 doubt that the "William L. Tierney" in the exhibit 
 of the War Department and that thus hurriedly 
 scrawled at the outskirts of Fairfax were written by 
 the same hand. The colonel bade him mount and 
 accompany the headquarters party, explaining that 
 " as they were going the same way they might as well 
 ride together," and Tierney seemed to want to protest, 
 but apparently thinking better of it, " fell in " behind 
 the staff and trotted along with them. The night was 
 very dark, and in not more than ten minutes he had 
 disappeared. It was probable that he took advantage 
 of the intricacies of a cut through a piece of woods 
 to slip away, strike spurs to his horse, and put a mile 
 or more between himself and the column before his 
 absence was noted. At all events, he had not been 
 seen from that time to this, and Graham believed that 
 he was playing a double game. 
 
 But the chief of the secret service could not harbor 
 such a thought for a moment. When Graham's letter 
 was shown him he proceeded to say that there always 
 had been a jealousy between the cavalry and his scouts. 
 The officers and men could not but envy the " roving 
 commissions " granted the latter, and it was true that 
 the scouts were prone to put on airs at times and give 
 offence. " But Tierney's an invaluable man," he said; 
 " he was raised in Prince William County, and knows 
 every family in it ; he was a wild fellow, and ran away 
 from home and enlisted in the army, and has served 
 two years in the cavalry. I got him discharged in the 
 fall of '61 purposely to put him on this duty, but after
 
 BETWEEN THE LINES. 171 
 
 second Bull Hun he told me the people were begin 
 ning to know him, and it might be well if he made 
 himself scarce for a while ; so I had him transferred 
 to duty hereabouts, and on the Eastern Shore a while, 
 then put him on the quartermaster's boat to look after 
 certain matters the Secretary of War desired to have 
 watched ;. even the officers of the boat thought him a 
 clerk detailed to keep track of the stores, and he has 
 been most efficient just the man for the place, the 
 Secretary says and it would astonish some officers of 
 the Army of the Potomac to see how much he knows 
 about them and their opinions. Oh, it isn't nice duty, I 
 admit ; but some one had to do it the Secretary can 
 satisfy you as to that and I put Tierney at it," ex 
 claimed the chief, in conclusion. Questioned by the ad 
 jutant-general as to the authority given him to leave the 
 steamer and go into Virginia again, the chief replied 
 that Tierney had a sweetheart down near Manassas 
 Junction, and he presumed that, hearing of the for 
 ward move of the cavalry, he had seized that oppor 
 tunity to run out and visit her. There was no time 
 for formal application for permission, and it never had 
 been customary. The secret-service men had to be 
 trusted, or they were of no use. Tierney would turn 
 up in a day or two, and come in full of valuable infor 
 mation, and completely vindicate himself. 
 
 But there were some among the few officers present 
 at this conference who did not share the confidence of 
 the chief, and it was found that some subordinates in 
 the department had long been suspicious that all was 
 not square with Tierney. They said he was a gambler
 
 172 BETWEEN THE LINES. 
 
 and an associate of gamblers, and that he had some 
 intimacies among a low class of men in the army that 
 were impairing his usefulness. There was a time in 
 '62 when he was drinking hard, and possibly the gen 
 tlemen from New Jersey might be interested in know 
 ing that it was Tierney's babbling that gave rise to 
 the first stories at the expense of Lieutenant Kearny 
 the year before. He had been drinking and playing 
 cards with Mullane, and it was he who was reluctantly 
 compelled to admit that he was Mullane's authority," 
 and it was he who guided the major and the adjutant 
 on their memorable visit to Hopeville. 
 
 It was a pity Dayton could not have been there to 
 hear this story. Then came tidings from the other 
 column that which had passed through Aldie Gap 
 and swooped down upon the roads in rear of Thoro'- 
 fare in hopes of cutting Mosby's retreat should he 
 escape the clutches of Graham's command. They had 
 had but poor luck despite the flourish of trumpets with 
 which the papers had hailed their " storming of the 
 pass" and capture of important prisoners and docu 
 ments. The pass in question was watched by a small 
 troop of Virginians, perhaps forty in all, but they 
 made things lively for the head of that blue column, 
 and it was only at the cost of much smoke, noise, and 
 expenditure of carbine ammunition that the little band 
 was induced to fall back, leaving their dead and wound 
 ed among the rocks by the roadside where they fell. 
 Then the pass was stormed in great shape, and the 
 new regiment went "charging " through in column of 
 fours, cheering lustily and brandishing their sabres,
 
 BETWEEN THE LINES. 173 
 
 and finally reining tip and unsaddling on the other 
 side, while the colonel made his enthusiastic followers 
 a congratulatory speech, and then sat him down to 
 write his despatches to the War Department, not for 
 getting one or two highly picturesque descriptions for 
 the benefit of the local papers of the counties from 
 which they hailed. Meantime, of course, the Virgin 
 ians were riding rapidly down the westward valley, 
 giving warning of the coming of the " Yanks ;" and 
 when the despatches were finished and the column 
 one more en route, pretty much everything and every 
 body worth capture was spirited out of the way. 
 When the command reached the road that night, late, 
 it was only to learn that they were much too late. 
 Mosby had given them the slip. 
 
 Of course the colonel could account for it. The coun 
 try was overrun, he wrote, with spies and scouts in civil 
 ian dress. These men were mounted on fleet horses, and 
 despite the rapidity with which he advanced they car 
 ried in every direction the tidings of his coming. There 
 was reason to believe, he said, that several of these 
 men thus disguised were officers of the Confederate 
 army visiting their homes and families on brief fur 
 loughs, or possibly sent thither for the purpose of 
 watching the movements of the cavalry. He urgently 
 recommended that strict orders be issued that all men 
 found within the lines of the advancing force be ar 
 rested and tried by drumhead court-martial as spies. 
 The colonel was a man of much political influence at 
 home, and his opinions and recommendations good, 
 bad, or absurd could be treated only with deference.
 
 1H BETWEEN THE LINES. 
 
 The War Department issued no new orders, but the 
 colonel was authorized by a letter, sent within a few 
 days, to make an example, if necessary, of Confederate 
 spies, but he was warned to exercise caution in the 
 matter, and be sure that the persons taken in civilian 
 dress or other disguise were bond fide officers of the 
 Confederate service, and within our lines for treason 
 able or unlawful purpose. 
 
 When this letter reached the colonel he was com 
 manding a force of some two thousand cavalry holding 
 the gaps of the Bull Run Mountains and scouring the 
 adjacent country. He was for the time being his own 
 master, and virtually in charge of a district in the ene 
 my's country. For Colonel Graham, his superior in 
 both rank and experience, disappointed at the failure 
 of his expedition, and attributing much of his lack of 
 success to the junior's delays, had gladly left him at 
 Thoro'fare, while he with nearly three thousand sabres 
 at his heels went clattering off to Front Royal in pur 
 suit of Mosby. 
 
 An ardent patriot was the soldier left behind. Trea 
 son was to him a thing to be made odious, and no 
 man, woman, or child w hose sympathies were with the 
 Southern troops could be anything less than a traitor, 
 and a menace to the security of the state. Nothing 
 short of summary execution was, in his private opin 
 ion, the proper method of convincing such people of 
 the error of their ways. It boded ill for the already 
 sore afflicted household at Hopeville Gap that they 
 should find themselves all of a sudden placed under 
 the surveillance of a soldier whose soul was burn-
 
 BETWEEN THE LINES. 175 
 
 ing with zeal to uphold the supremacy of the law, 
 but who preferred to crush the rebellion by extreme 
 measures at the fireside rather than to face it in the 
 field. 
 
 And now, while Graham was beyond communication 
 except by courier, there came to Washington a genu 
 ine surprise in the shape of a paragraph in his second 
 report a brief summary sent from White Plains of 
 the result of his dash at the gaps after the escape of 
 Mosby. There had, indeed, been some spirited cavalry 
 fighting in his column, and an entire battalion of Vir 
 ginia troopers had been cut off, surrounded, and cap 
 tured near Groveton. Captain Dayton, who was still in 
 Washington, was hurriedly summoned, together with 
 two Jersey legislators, to the office of the adjutant- 
 general. 
 
 " Listen to this," said that perplexed functionary, 
 " and tell me, if you can, what it means : 
 
 " ' I deem it my duty to add,' writes Colonel Gra 
 ham, after detailing his capture of the Virginia 
 
 Cavalry between Groveton and Haymarket, ' that this 
 success was mainly due to the presence of my former 
 regimental comrade, now Major Frank Kearny, of the 
 New Jersey, who, having a brief leave of ab 
 sence, joined me as a volunteer at Centreville, and his 
 accurate and intricate knowledge of the roads enabled 
 him to plan and carry out the surrounding of the rebel 
 force. It was he who guided the turning column to 
 their rear ; and the officers unite in praise of the brill 
 iant and daring manner in which he led the charge 
 that broke their line.' Now, gentlemen, who can ex-
 
 176 BETWEEN THE LINES. 
 
 plain this freak of Major Kearny's ; and who can tell 
 where to find him?" 
 
 There was a moment of wondering silence, then Cap 
 tain Dayton spoke : 
 
 " I believe I can, sir."
 
 XVII. 
 
 THE night of Frank Kearny's sudden reappearance 
 at Hopeville was one that Lucy Armistead has never 
 yet forgotten. Probably she never will. For a few 
 moments after asking the abrupt question about the 
 officer who had just ridden away, he stood in silence, 
 gazing into the darkness, as though longing to see the 
 man once more. He was breathing heavily, as though 
 wearied by recent exertion, and the sigh with which 
 he turned aside spoke of utter dejection. Anxiously 
 she scanned his face, but his eyes seemed to avoid 
 hers. Then, as though nerved to sudden action, he 
 quickly stepped to the gateway, and stood one mo 
 ment listening. Then he abruptly spoke : 
 
 " I left my horse at the foot of the pathway leading 
 down through the wood. May I ask you to send 
 Nelse for him? And now I have business of impor 
 tance with the judge. Can I see him ?" 
 
 " He will be rejoiced to see you but you look so 
 worn, so ill ? Have you not overtaxed your strength ? 
 Is there not grave hazard in coming hither ?" 
 
 "I came because I could not live and not look 
 
 upon your face again. Even though I know now 
 
 that it is as you said there was another I had to 
 
 come. Now I have seen. I must go. Five minutes' 
 
 12
 
 178 BETWEEN THE LINES. 
 
 talk with your father will be enough and then it 
 is good-bye." 
 
 He half turned towards the house, then back to 
 where she stood silent, wondering, and here he bent 
 as though for one last look into her eyes. The sight 
 of her sweet, pale face, so wan, so pathetic, and yet so 
 lovely, was more than he could bear. He had left her 
 when weak, broken down with wounds, illness, and 
 sorrow. He returned to her stalwart, bearded, a model 
 of soldierly grace and strength ; yet his voice was full 
 of a weight of trouble that wore heavily upon him. 
 His eyes gazed one instant into hers, then, as though 
 utterly overcome by the force and vehemence of his 
 love, he suddenly clasped her in his strong arms, and, 
 straining her slender form to his breast, his lips rained 
 kiss after kiss upon the rippling hair and smooth white 
 forehead. " Oh, God ! how I loved you !" was his one 
 smothered cry ; and then, almost rudely, he cast her 
 from him, turned sharply away, and hastened to the 
 house. 
 
 For a few moments she stayed there, leaning against 
 the gate-post, breathless, startled, and unnerved. Not 
 until she could regain her self-control did she attempt 
 to enter the hall. Then, sending Hannah for Nelse 
 with orders to bring Mr. Kearny's horse from the 
 lower field, she shut herself in her room. She could 
 hear the voices of the two men before she closed the 
 door : her father's, so weak and broken, apparently in 
 vehement protest ; her lover's, deep, strong, earnest, 
 yet with such weariness and sorrow in it. Then sud 
 denly the door closed heavily ; spurred boot-heels
 
 BETWEEN THE LINES. 179 
 
 clinked through the hall and descended the steps, 
 where there was brief pause and a word with Nelsc. 
 Then hoof-beats in the yard below, down the neg 
 lected drive, out to the road beyond, and he was gone 
 gone without another word to her. She sat there 
 in her cold, dark room, shivering. Then Nelse's voice 
 was heard calling her name, and she knew her father 
 had need of her. Down the stairs she found the old 
 darky with his eyes fairly starting from his head, hold 
 ing out to her half a dozen Treasury notes money 
 such as he had never seen, yet well imagined the value 
 of that had been thrust into his hands as the major 
 rode away ; and in the study she found her father, 
 seated before his open fireplace, trembling, agitated, 
 and vainly striving to read a letter by the flickering 
 light, while in the torn envelope on the table by his 
 side she could see a packet of similar Treasury notes, 
 left, evidently, by the same lavish hand. 
 
 "Read it for me, daughter; I cannot," he said, 
 feebly. "He has been most kind, most thoughtful, 
 but of course he could not be made to understand that 
 it is all out of the question out of the question. We 
 can accept no man's bounty, much less one of that 
 uniform." 
 
 Obediently she took the sheet, and, sitting at his 
 feet, where the firelight fell upon the page, she read 
 these lines : 
 
 "I write because it may be impossible to see you 
 impossible to explain. No words can tell you the depth 
 of my gratitude for the tender care and the infinite 
 kindness shown me under your roof. I dare not con-
 
 180 BETWEEN THE LINES. 
 
 jecture what it may have cost or may yet cost you 
 among yo ir own people. In kind, it will be beyond 
 my power to repay you, nor do I know that in any 
 way such repayment can adequately be made ; but, my 
 kind and generous host, it is necessary for my own 
 peace of mind that in some way I attempt to show my 
 appreciation. Forgive this intrusion into your person 
 al affairs. I could not but know that the very neces 
 saries of life are hard to be obtained even where money 
 was in abundance, and I am tortured by a fear that 
 your means have been grievously straitened by the 
 unhappy strife between the sections. This money 
 burns my hand. I implore you to take it, use it, con 
 sider it a loan if you will not otherwise accept it. I 
 ask it for your own sake, for Henry's sake, nay, more, 
 for the sake of her whose name I cannot breathe with 
 out a blessing, whose whose ' " 
 
 She hesitated, her head drooped lower, a wave of 
 color surged up over the lovely face, and, hiding it 
 from his eyes, she held forth the letter with shaking 
 hand. 
 
 " I I cannot read it further. There is only a little 
 more." 
 
 He took it slowly, waiting until he could brush the 
 moisture from his eyes. Presently she rose from her 
 stooping posture, lighted a candle and placed it by his 
 side, then quickly sped from the room. Slowly he 
 found the place where she had ceased. 
 
 " whose welfare and happiness must ever, hence 
 forth, outweigh any earthly consideration except the 
 duty I owe to my country. Sir, though she has taught
 
 BETWEEN THE LINES. 181 
 
 me its utter hopelessness, I love your daughter, and 
 shall love her to my life's end." 
 
 An hour later, when she stole noiselessly into the 
 room, the old gentleman was sitting there in the flick 
 ering light, almost as she had left him. He had ex 
 tinguished the candle, for candles were already as 
 precious and scarce as the coarse currency that formed 
 the one circulating medium in the country towns. 
 Kearny's letter was still in his hand, and on the table 
 by his side was the package of Treasury notes, unbro 
 ken. She bent and kissed his forehead and the gray 
 curling locks above, but said no word. 
 
 "Daughter," he presently spoke, "you will find 
 some large envelopes in the lower drawer of my desk. 
 Give me one, dear." 
 
 Silently she obeyed him. Then he took the " green 
 backs," still in unbroken package and more than half 
 hidden in what remained of the torn wrapper; care 
 fully stowed the entire packet away in the heavy, 
 lawyer-like envelope she gave him ; then asked for 
 light, his heavy seal and the wax from their nook in 
 the old-fashioned desk. Sealing the packet with prac 
 tised yet tremulous hand, he then carefully " docketed " 
 the thick paper with the date and the major's name, 
 then looked up into her eyes. 
 
 " He meant well, dear. It was natural that he should 
 seek some way to be of service to us, but we cannot 
 touch his money we Armisteads. Hide it somewhere 
 where it will be safe until it can be returned to him 
 by trusty hands. He will not come again, daughter; 
 he will not come again."
 
 182 BETWEEN THE LINES. 
 
 That night, when Hannah knocked twice at the door 
 of her young mistress and could get no answer, she 
 softly entered and found her, not asleep, but lying on 
 the little white bed, sobbing as though her heart would 
 break. 
 
 Stirring trumpet-calls roused the echoes of the 
 heights at early dawn, and when the little household 
 peered from the windows they found the fields at the 
 foot of the slope all alive with horsemen in light blue 
 overcoats. For two days there remained in camp there 
 a force of perhaps three squadrons; while others, ap 
 parently of the same regiment, were posted high up 
 in the Gap or patrolled the roads to north and south. 
 The commanding officer, with others, twice called at 
 the homestead and asked to see the judge, and as he 
 was too feeble and ill to be disturbed, they inquired 
 on their second visit for "the lady of the house," 
 whom Hannah vainly sought to excuse. Miss Armis- 
 tead would gladly have avoided an interview, but the 
 lieutenant-colonel commanding sent up his card, and 
 courteously requested that she would see him, as he 
 had orders to communicate to some responsible mem 
 ber of the family. Determined to shield her father 
 from every possible annoyance, she descended the stairs 
 and found her visitors standing in the hall. It was 
 late in the afternoon, and the light was dim. 
 
 " Will you step into the sitting-room ?" she said. 
 "The servant should have shown you there. We 
 have no parlor." 
 
 " The servant did so, madam," said the elder of the 
 two officers, " but explained that she had no light, and
 
 BETWEEN THE LINES. 183 
 
 we did not wish to intrude more than was absolutely 
 necessary. I called earlier in the day, but was unsuc 
 cessful ; now I had no choice but to persist. Pardon 
 me, may I ask who it is whom I have the honor of 
 addressing ?" 
 
 The lieutenant-colonel was a stately gentleman of 
 over fifty years, and he spoke with a slightly foreign 
 accent. It was evident that he wished to behave with 
 all the consideration and courtesy possible, and Miss 
 Armistead failed to experience the feeling of repug 
 nance which, a year or two before, she was sure would 
 manifest itself at the appearance of a " Yankee." She 
 answered coldly, as became a daughter of Virginia, 
 yet she liked the old soldier's manner. 
 
 " I am Miss Armistead," she answered. " My father 
 is in feeble health, and I seek to spare him any care or 
 worry. Did I understand you to say that you had 
 orders to carry out, and that they concerned us in any 
 way?" 
 
 " I deeply regret that such is the case, Miss Armis 
 tead" and both officers were evidently trying to see 
 as much of the fair face before them as the dim light 
 permitted. " Orders which are imperative in their tone 
 have reached me this day from the officer commanding 
 all the Union forces now serving in this neighborhood. 
 He has information, he says, that several officers of the 
 Southern army, whose homes are in Fauquier and 
 Prince William counties, are now somewhere about 
 here. One has already been found, and among those 
 believed to be hiding near at hand is Captain Henry 
 Armistead, of Stuart's cavalry your brother, I fear.
 
 184 BETWEEN THE LINES. 
 
 It is most distressing to me to have to communicate this 
 to one so young, so fair, so apparently unprotected," 
 went on the gallant old dragoon, "but I am ordered 
 to make strict search and to maintain a vigilant guard 
 over the premises." 
 
 Lucy's heart sank within her. She knew how it 
 would affect her father it was her one thought now. 
 She dreaded to think of the risk Henry would run if, 
 despite the verbal caution she had charged Falconer to 
 give him, he obeyed the summons in the letter she had 
 earlier written. Resistance, protestation, she knew, 
 would be useless. Frankness and courtesy might dis 
 arm even the enemy when he came in such courtly 
 shape as that before her. 
 
 "I thank you for the consideration you show us, 
 sir,*' was therefore her reply. "My brother is not 
 here, if my word will suffice and save my father's pri 
 vacy from disturbance; but there shall be no hinder- 
 ance to making your search as thorough as you deem 
 necessary. When will you begin ?" 
 
 " That, at least, I reserve to myself, Miss Armistead. 
 My orders did not say immediate search, and it shall 
 be at your convenience. My sentries, of course, were 
 early posted so that none could pass in or out; and if 
 you will kindly say how soon we may begin I fear it 
 must be this evening I will myself be present, and 
 you can rest assured that no intrusion will afterwards 
 be allowed. Who are you, sir ?" he said, sharply, and 
 turned in evident indignation upon a distinguished- 
 looking officer who had suddenly appeared at the door 
 way. "I gave orders that no officer or man was to
 
 BETWEEN" THE LINES. 185 
 
 enter here without my authority. I do not know your 
 face. What is your regiment ?" 
 
 " The New Jersey, colonel," responded the offi 
 cer, saluting, " which will account for my not know 
 ing that you had given such orders. I am Captain 
 Dayton, sir, and have just arrived from Washington. 
 These papers will explain the object of my journey, 
 but, as it is too dark for you to read them, let me say 
 briefly that I am sent to find Major Kearny, who is 
 believed to have accompanied your command, and 
 whom I hoped to hear of here at Judge Armistead's." 
 
 Lucy started at the mention of the name, and stepped 
 forward where she could more distinctly see the new 
 comer. 
 
 " Mr. Major Kearny was here two nights ago, for 
 not more than ten minutes," she answered, in low tone. 
 
 "And he went back to Washington or Alexandria 
 the next morning, captain," said the field-officer. " I 
 saw him start." 
 
 In deep and evident disappointment the stranger 
 paused a moment. "Then my errand is fruitless," he 
 said, as he slowly turned away. " My escort is tired 
 with a long day's ride, colonel, and, with your per 
 mission, we will bivouac beside your command." 
 
 " By all means, sir, by all means. I will accompany 
 you now. Miss Armistead, a thousand regrets for my 
 unavoidable intrusion. I will leave my adjutant to 
 receive your answer," and, bowing low, the courteous 
 old soldier took his leave. 
 
 An hour later, in silence and with every exertion of 
 gentleness and consideration, the searching party an
 
 186 BETWEEN THE LINES. 
 
 officer with half a dozen men ransacked every room 
 in the house from garret to cellar, with two exceptions. 
 The colonel forbade their entering Miss Armistead's 
 or that of her father, by whose side she had taken her 
 place. Underneath the window other soldiers two 
 officers, apparently were talking in low but excited 
 tones. What she heard nearly froze the blood in her 
 veins. 
 
 " I tell you it is true. He was found dead as a door 
 nail, shot through the heart, and there's no doubt that 
 Kearny was the murderer. That's what they want him 
 for."
 
 XVIII. 
 
 ANXIOUS days were those that followed. A wet, 
 cold, driving storm set in, deluging the lowlands, 
 turning the mountain brooks into foaming torrents 
 and the country roads into quagmires. Most depress 
 ing was the effect upon the broken-down old man who 
 cowered drooping and despondent over the lonely 
 hearthstone. Lucy would not leave, yet could not 
 cheer him; he seemed fallen into an abyss of hope 
 lessness and woe from which nothing osnld rouse him, 
 and yet there were moments when he became almost 
 vehement in obstinacy. She had sought to induce him 
 to remain in bed the third morning of the storm, but 
 though he had passed a restless night he was oddly 
 bent on being up and dressed. Nothing would con 
 vince him that Henry was not coining that very day; 
 coming with friends at his side and gallant gray riders 
 at his back to sweep the range of their oppressors and 
 drive the hated invaders to the Potomac. Twice on 
 the previous day she had thought him wandering, and 
 her sore heart nearly ceased its beating at the mere 
 suggestion of his failing now when it was beyond hu 
 man possibility for Henry to reach him. Twice or 
 thrice during the night he was even wilder in his 
 words, but the silent, tearful watcher by his pillow
 
 188 BETWEEN THE LINES. 
 
 tried to teach herself that 'twas only dreaming, that 
 the morrow would bring relief. Once, late that after 
 noon, the strain became more than she could bear, and 
 seeing the old cavalry officer on horseback at the gate, 
 and remembering that he begged her to believe they 
 warred not on women and the helpless ones at home, 
 and had urged her to call upon him if he could be of 
 the faintest service, she asked the sergeant in charge of 
 the guard now pacing silently around them to say to 
 the colonel that she begged to speak with him. He 
 came, the gray-haired, ruddy-faced old hero, and, dis 
 mounting at the steps, saluted her as he would have 
 done homage to a queen. The sight of the grief and 
 anxiety in her face, and the pallor, due to suffering 
 and ceaseless vigils, went straight to his heart. 
 
 " Dear young lady," he said, " I beg you tell me 
 how I can serve you. Think ! yonder across the Po 
 tomac only as far from it on that side as we are on 
 this is my home, and there, almost as lonely as you, 
 lives my daughter. I ask to serve you in your dis 
 tress as I know any gentleman in the gray you love 
 would treat my child under like conditions. "Who 
 knows how soon your battle-flags will be on our 
 fields ! Twice already has your Stuart ridden within 
 rifle range of her windows. Miss Armistead, war is 
 bitter enough. Do not make it worse by refusing the 
 little service we are permitted to give !" 
 
 In her loneliness and desolation, who can blame her 
 that the tears gushed from her eyes ? It was a min 
 ute or two before she could control herself sufficiently 
 to speak. Two or three of the guard looked curiously
 
 BETWEEN THE LINES. 189 
 
 on from the shelter of their ponchos as the old soldier 
 led her to a chair and bent sympathetically over her. 
 
 " You are more than kind," she answered at last. 
 " My anxiety is all on my father's account. He seems 
 failing so rapidly, and our physician, Dr. Loring, has 
 not been near us for days. The roads are in dreadful 
 condition, I know, but we have no one who can go. 
 Would it be possible to send one of your men over to 
 him and beg him to come either to-night or the first 
 thing to-morrow ?" 
 
 The old dragoon's face was clouded with sorrow in 
 a moment. 
 
 " If he could be brought to you by any act of mine 
 I would send a guard for him this moment. Miss 
 Armistead, I fear I have sad news for you. I would 
 go for him myself, but it would be useless. For some 
 reason, I know not what, Dr. Loring was arrested by 
 my superior officer, the colonel commanding this dis 
 trict in the absence of Colonel Graham, and two days 
 ago was sent to Washington. We have an excellent 
 physician with us the surgeon of my regiment. He 
 will be up from Thoro'fare before dark; I pray you 
 let me send him to your father." 
 
 " Oh, how cruel, how wrong it seems ! Pardon me, 
 Colonel Westerlo, I ought not to speak of it when you 
 have been so kind; but Dr. Loring was almost the sole 
 dependence of scores of families, left now without a 
 protector; husbands, brothers, fathers, sons, all in the 
 army, and the women and children left alone. What 
 possible cause could be assigned ?" 
 
 The colonel shrugged his shoulders. " I know not,"
 
 190 BETWEEN THE LINES. 
 
 he said; " we had not wars like this where first I drew 
 the sabre. There be men who say that in no other 
 way can the South be brought to terms. My com 
 mander keeps me here against my will. I prayed to 
 be sent with the column to the Shenandoah. I like 
 not this search of defenceless homes, this warring on 
 non-combatants at the rear; but I can but obey. His 
 captures include but one officer, I am told, and he 
 but you know him, perhaps a Captain Falconer." 
 
 " Captain Falconer !" she faltered. " When when 
 was he taken ?" and she clasped her hand to her heart; 
 a deadly pallor o'erspread her face. What if he had 
 been captured before sending warning to Henry not 
 to make the attempt ! What if Henry had received 
 only the hurried letter in which she implored him to 
 come ! 
 
 Westerlo was aghast at the effect of his words. 
 "So?" he muttered to himself; "and yet I thought 
 not so carpet-knight a soldier could have won a heart 
 like this." 
 
 He bent over her all sympathy and sorrow. 
 
 " The captain was taken by our advance at Thoro'- 
 fare the night we reached there the night Major 
 Kearny visited your father," he said. " He was alone 
 with but a single orderly at the time. He he is per 
 fectly safe unhurt he will soon be exchanged. I 
 beg you not to grieve." 
 
 But she had covered her face with her hands, ap 
 palled at the thought of Henry's peril. Now no word 
 of warning could reach him, and acting on the prayer 
 contained in the last letter she had sent him, he would
 
 BETWEEN THE LINES. 191 
 
 spare no effort, shun no risk, to reach his father's side. 
 Even though warned at Hedgman River or the lower 
 fords of the Kappahannock that all Fauquier and Prince 
 William counties were now held by the Federal cav 
 alry, he would seek his way by night; he was sure to 
 come. 
 
 " I bitterly regret that in my stupidity I have added 
 so great a grief to yo-ur load of anxiety, dear young 
 lady," said Westerlo, rising. " Let me ask forgiveness. 
 Let me go, at least, and send our doctor to you. Oh, 
 grieve not, grieve not, pretty one; he is really safer 
 now than he would be here. There, there, I will go." 
 
 She sprang to her feet and sought to restrain him. 
 
 " Oh, no ! It is not it is not what you " But 
 she broke off short. Was not any supposition of his 
 preferable to his discovering the real cause of her 
 anxiety and distress ? " You must not send the doc 
 tor," she hurriedly continued, abruptly changing the 
 subject. " I am grateful, but but father would not 
 see him at least not yet. Indeed I will call upon you 
 if need there be." 
 
 But the old dragoon rode away, shaking his head. 
 " I have made a mess of it. I might have known she 
 had a lover and he was just from here; yet, apoule 
 mouillee, like that a fellow with no fight in him for 
 all the bravery of his attire. Ah, the sergeant was a 
 hero he got through !" 
 
 True to his word, he sent his surgeon to the house 
 at dusk, and the doctor had a brief talk with Miss 
 Armistead. She had begged her father to see this 
 gentleman, but to no purpose; the old Virginian was
 
 192 BETWEEN THE LINES. 
 
 indomitable in his pride and his resolution. So long 
 as he had life in his veins, he said, he would refuse all 
 aid from " Federal " sources, and she knew well that 
 it would only irritate and worry him to plead further. 
 The doctor was not invited to the sick-room, and, fal- 
 teringly, Lucy told him why. He seemed in no wise 
 surprised or annoyed, asked several questions, and 
 quietly took his leave, saying that he would send some 
 little remedies in a short time. If Judge Armistead 
 had dreamed that the glass of sherry she so smilingly 
 gave him with his chicken broth that night had come 
 from the field stores of the Yankee doctor it might 
 have choked him, but he swallowed it eagerly, and 
 was allowed another thimbleful. At an hour before 
 daybreak, when she stole into the room to see how he 
 was sleeping, he looked up with sudden question about 
 Henry, and soon after sunrise he began to dress and 
 to call feebly for Nelse. Nothing would persuade him 
 to remain in bed. Something, he said, kept telling 
 him that this day would bring Henry home to him 
 again, and he must be in readiness to welcome his boy 
 and his friends. He smiled grimly, lifting a tremu 
 lous hand and warning them to listen in silence as the 
 trumpets of the cavalry were heard playing some 
 bright, spirited calls while the guard was being mount 
 ed under the dripping trees. " They'll be playing a 
 different tune before night," he said. " They can't 
 see twelve hours ahead, or they'd be scampering 
 now." 
 
 And though the roads were deep in mud and the 
 clouds hung low, the wind had died away, and towards
 
 BETWEEN THE LINES. 193 
 
 noon there were signs of breaking of the storm. The 
 rain ceased to patter on the roof, the light slowly in 
 creased, and then, early in the afternoon, there came 
 visitors. She heard clanking sabres and clinking spurs 
 upon the piazza without, and her father listened with 
 frowning and impatient mien. He could not bear it that 
 she should so frequently be called upon to receive these 
 haughty and triumphant invaders. Yet he longed to 
 question her as to Kearny. Yank or no Yank, he liked 
 that young fellow, and though he would not approve, 
 he could not wonder at his love for such a girl as his 
 peerless Lucy. Not once had that name passed the lips 
 of either father or daughter in conversation with each 
 other since the sealing of the packet that contained 
 the treasure he had left with them. Not once, how 
 ever, had it left her thoughts since the moment of the 
 dread announcement made by that officer under her 
 window. She longed even though she shrank from 
 asking to know more of that extraordinary story. 
 It was not that she for a moment believed Kearny 
 could be guilty; she simply needed to hear of him. 
 Twice had she striven to muster courage and ask 
 Colonel Westerlo about him, but the words the name 
 would not come. Now it was with fresh excite 
 ment that she heard from Hannah's lips the announce 
 ment that the colonel was at the door, and begged to 
 see her on important matters. She went at once, and 
 found the old soldier, with the surgeon and his adju 
 tant, all equipped for the march, their horses saddled 
 at the gate. 
 
 " We are come to say farewell," he said, with sad- 
 13
 
 194 BETWEEN THE LINES. 
 
 ness and courtesy mingled in his Voice. " Orders 
 reached me an hour ago to leave one squadron here 
 M Hopeville and march at once to Salem with the rest, 
 rhave instructed Captain Wise, who remains in com 
 mand, to visit you daily and inquire if in any way he 
 can be of aid to you, and believe me, Miss Armis- 
 tead, it is with heavy heart I go. Will not your good 
 father see our doctor now, since it is our last oppor 
 tunity ?" 
 
 But Judge Armistead refused flatly. He desired 
 his pleading daughter to express his appreciation of 
 the proffered courtesy, but to say that he could 
 not be under obligations. " Lucy," he whispered, 
 tremulous and excited, " it is as I told you. It must 
 be so. Henry and our boys are coming, and the warn 
 ing has reached these fellows. They flee from the 
 wrath to come." 
 
 She had to return to the kindly old soldier, and tell 
 him, with tears in her eyes, that pleading was useless. 
 Her father would not see the doctor, and that medical 
 gentleman bade her be of good cheer ; so long as 
 the judge was combative and obstinate there could be 
 no immediate danger. They would be sure to meet 
 again, said the colonel, as he bent over her hand to 
 say adieu. Never would he visit this section of Vir 
 ginia without coming to find the old homestead, and 
 to inquire for her welfare. 
 
 And then they were gone. She had found it im 
 possible to ask one word about Kearny, and she could 
 have buried her head in the pillows and wept in utter 
 anxiety and desolation. Her father here, failing day
 
 BETWEEN THE LINES. 195 
 
 by day, his mind clouded, his strength gone, his sys 
 tem practically starving for nutritious food, and his 
 palate pining for the delicacies to which it had been 
 accustomed; Henry, she knew not where, but some 
 thing kept haunting her hour after hour, warning her 
 that the brother she loved was in desperate peril, and 
 plunging deeper and deeper into the toils. And then 
 Frank Kearny. Could she ever forget him as he 
 looked that night? Could she ever forget how he 
 had clasped and kissed her ? The change in him ; the 
 worn, haggard look about the eyes and mouth ; the 
 sternness of his soldierly face, the weariness and sor 
 row in his voice. All this she recalled all this and 
 the fact that between him and her there was that for 
 bidding shadow that bade her send him hopeless from 
 her side. Motherless, friendless, she was bearing her 
 weight of sorrow and care practically alone and com 
 fortless. 
 
 An excited controversy in the kitchen afforded tem 
 porary relief Aunt Bell and Hannah in lively but 
 partially suppressed altercation. The former was urg 
 ing that Miss Lulie be instantly summoned to see and 
 rejoice in something which had been deposited by a 
 squad of soldiers at the cellar door, whereat Nelse 
 could be heard capering in delight. But Hannah was 
 positive and peremptory. " Don' you do no such fool 
 thing ! You hide 'em, V keep 'em, 'n' just dish 'em up 
 'thout sayin' one word 'bout it. I knows." And Han 
 nah's wisdom prevailed. The judge was regaled for 
 supper that evening with viands for which he had 
 longed in secret, and for which he thanked his silent
 
 196 BETWEEN THE LINES. 
 
 daughter with loving eyes and loving kisses. She 
 would ask no question; she, for his sake, would not 
 reject the good things that had been thrown in their 
 way. She could have found it deep down in her 
 warm, Southern heart to have thanked and blessed 
 that thoughtful old Dutch-Yankee dragoon, for she 
 well knew it must have been his doing. 
 
 Just at dusk Captain Wise appeared to her as she 
 was flitting through the hall. He was a man she had 
 not before noticed among the officers passing to and 
 fro. He was not the like of Westerlo, but he meant 
 to be civil and courteous. He called, he said, as in 
 structed by his commander, to inquire how Judge 
 Armistead had passed the day, and whether there was 
 anything he could be of service in. She thanked him. 
 It might be necessary to send old Nelse over to Hope- 
 ville village on the west side of the range if the roads 
 were better on the morrow. Could he be allowed the 
 use of a spare horse or mule? The captain looked 
 much disconcerted. His orders strictly forbade it. 
 In fact, " not to put too fine a point upon it," said this 
 martial Snagsby, it was his belief that Colonel Wes 
 terlo had been sent away because the district com 
 mander suspected him of giving too much aid and 
 comfort to the enemy, and he, Captain Wise, was 
 warned on peril of his commission to see to it that no 
 one passed to and fro along the Gap without the or 
 der of the energetic colonel commanding the cavalry 
 brigade now holding the neighborhood. 
 
 " It was his own adjutant who brought over the 
 orders," said the captain, " and he told me the reason
 
 BETWEEN THE LINES. 197 
 
 they had to be so strict was that the colonel felt sure 
 there were Confederate spies lurking around us, and 
 he was fearful that while Graham was away a brigade 
 of Stuart's men might gallop up from the Rappahan- 
 nock by way of Sulphur Springs, and capture him and 
 his whole crowd. He says the one thing the colonel 
 prays for is to capture some one of these disguised 
 soldiers, and then he can make an example of him." 
 
 "What could he possibly do what right would he 
 have ?" she asked, with wildly beating heart, Henry 
 Henry and his peril occurring to her at the instant. 
 
 " He has authority, he says, to summarily hang any 
 Confederate officer or man who may be found dis 
 guised within our lines. It will go hard with any man 
 he catches, for he is a fanatical old fellow, and I be 
 lieve he would do just what he says." 
 
 And this was the comfort that came to Lucy Armis- 
 tead when that long, hard day was brought to a close.
 
 XIX. 
 
 A NIGHT of sleeplessness and weary vigil followed. 
 Not until hours after dark would the old judge con 
 sent to be led away and put to bed. Nelse, the sable 
 groom of the bed-chamber, had thrice vainly impor 
 tuned his master before success rewarded his efforts. 
 Lucy sat by her father's side an hour and read to him, 
 hoping to soothe him to sleep. At last he fell into a 
 fitful slumber, moving nervously from time to time, 
 and muttering or moaning when he stirred. Exhaust 
 ed, yet unwilling to leave his bedside, the girl bowed 
 her head upon the coverlet, and, still clasping the 
 worn, withered old hand in both of hers, so white and 
 soft and smooth by contrast, yet so thin and fragile 
 now, she too presently dozed away. The only light 
 in the sick-room came from the flickering blaze on the 
 hearth, the only sound, save the old man's fitful breath 
 ing, or an occasional sigh, was Nelse's monotonous 
 snore from his mat in the hallway, where the faithful 
 old darkey had elected to spend the night. Once or 
 twice, when she found it time to give him medicine 
 or the drink that the doctor had left for his use, Lucy 
 roused herself, and once she called Nelse and had him 
 replenish the fire. As the night wore away the old 
 man grew wakeful again, and fanciful in his talk and
 
 BETWEEN THE LINES. 199 
 
 ideas. Lucy again strove by reading aloud awhile to 
 distract his thoughts from that one strain Henry's 
 coming. It was torture, agony, to her to think of it 
 now; yet it was the burden of his every sentence he 
 would talk of nothing else. Twice he started up, de 
 claring he heard horses' feet on the road through the 
 Gap, and once he made her go to the piazza and look 
 and listen. Throwing over her shoulders a heavy 
 shawl, she obeyed his wish, and, softly opening the 
 great hall door, stepped forth to the head of the stairs. 
 The clouds had gone at last, the stars were shining 
 placidly through the chill and silence of the night. 
 Far over to the east there were dim lights along the 
 valley, the glow of distant camp-fires. Down in the 
 fields where the battalion had pitched its white tents 
 but a few days before, all was now emptiness and 
 gloom. The fires had burned there merrily even 
 through the three days' storm; but now not a glimmer 
 could be seen. In the orchard south of the house a 
 bright fire blazed in front of the white tent pitched 
 there for the use of the guard, and she could see one 
 or two forms wrapped in the long blue cavalry over 
 coat huddling about in the smoke of the moist and 
 hissing logs. In front of her, not ten yards away, a 
 sentry paced silently to and fro; and others, she knew, 
 guarded the flanks and rear of the old homestead. 
 How could Henry pass such warders undetected, even 
 if it had been possible for him to make his way through 
 the miles and miles of guarded roads that lay between 
 the Rappahannock and his father's bedside ? She 
 shuddered as she thought of the peril. Even now,
 
 200 BETWEEN THE LINES. 
 
 might he not be a prisoner caught in the attempt ? 
 Might he not even be cold in death, murdered in de 
 termined effort to force the Yankee lines ? 
 
 Over the horizon a pallid light told of the near ap 
 proach of day. She had hardly slept an hour during 
 the night, and was cold, weary, hungry too. Possibly 
 now if she could assure her father that dawn had come, 
 the Federal cavalry were still at their posts, and no 
 sign of Henry had been seen or heard, he might again 
 doze, and she, too, could get a little rest. Just as she 
 would have turned away to re-enter the house there 
 fell upon her ear the faint click, click of distant iron- 
 shod hoofs upon a rocky road a horse coming through 
 the Gap and at rapid trot. Probably the officer of the 
 day returning from an inspection of his picket, she 
 said to herself, and still waited to hear more. Look 
 ing towards the fire, she saw that two or three of the 
 men in blue were hurriedly tumbling up, and, carbine 
 in hand, running through the trees to the stone wall 
 at the roadside, where they were lost to her view. 
 Presently there came sharp challenge ringing out on 
 the chill morning air, then the clatter of the hoofs as 
 the horse was suddenly reined in. She heard prompt, 
 cheery, confident answer, in a tone almost laughing 
 and rollicking. " Don't shoot, boys, I'm all right," 
 or something to that effect. She heard orders to dis 
 mount, and, still talking loudly and cheerily, the stran 
 ger seemed to be leading his horse into the orchard, 
 while the guard clustered around him. What was 
 there in that voice that almost stopped the throbbing 
 of her heart ? Henry's Henry's beyond all possibil*
 
 BETWEEN THE LINES. 201 
 
 ity of doubt Henry's and yet laughing, joking, 
 chatting loudly with a squad of Federal cavalry ! 
 Presently she could see them at the fire the ser 
 geant and one of the men closely examining a folded 
 paper, while others held the stranger's horse. As for 
 the stranger himself, he bent over the flames, totally 
 indifferent to their scrutiny of his papers, and seem 
 ingly intent only on toasting his hands, and then flap 
 ping them across his broad chest as though striving to 
 quicken the circulation in a frame numbed by a long 
 night ride. He was gai'bed in a long blue cavalry 
 coat like those worn by the troopers, and wore a soft 
 black felt hat and high top-boots. A thick, bushy 
 beard concealed all the lower face ; but that form, 
 that voice Good Heaven ! was he mad to take such 
 desperate risk ? It was her brother beyond shadow of 
 doubt. 
 
 Presently she saw the young lieutenant who seemed 
 to be in command of the guard coming from his tent, 
 and him the stranger greeted cordially. " Sorry to 
 disturb you, lieutenant," he said, " but these men don't 
 know me yet as the rest of the cavalry do, and I had 
 to have you called to satisfy them. There are my 
 papers, sir," and he nodded carelessly towards the ser 
 geant. " Oh, here's another batch that will help out 
 in case you don't remember me. I'm Will Tierney, 
 the scout. Everybody knows me hereabouts." 
 
 Trembling with apprehension, she clung to the bal 
 ustrade and looked with staring eyes. She saw the 
 lieutenant studying one paper after another, and then, 
 as though satisfied, engaging in quiet conversation
 
 202 BETWEEN THE LINES. 
 
 with the new arrival. Then the weary horse was led 
 away by one of the men, and she could see that the 
 others were again disposing themselves for rest around 
 the fire. Henry, her brother, was coolly shaking out a 
 couple of blankets, as though he meant to lie down in 
 the midst of his enemies. 
 
 It was nearly sunrise when she stole back to her 
 father's bedside to tell him the startling news, and 
 warn him of the imminent danger in case of suspicion 
 or discovery. It seemed to rouse his weakened facul 
 ties and bring back new lease of life. 
 
 After brief statement of her plan, and gaining hie 
 approval, she roused old Nelse, and warning him that 
 all his wits would now be needed, told him of " young 
 mars'r's" presence among the guards in the orchard, 
 and bade him go about his work and keep his eyes 
 open for a chance to aid him. Then Hannah and Aunt 
 Bell were called, and at an early hour these excited do 
 mestics were down in the cellar levying on the box of 
 provisions sent there by Colonel Westerlo, and busy 
 in the preparation of breakfast. An hour later, un 
 hindered by the sentries and escorted to the house by 
 the lieutenant himself, the tall young " scout " saun 
 tered into the yard, strode up the steps, knocked at 
 the door, and politely inquired of Hannah whether he 
 could see the judge or Miss Lucy. While she was 
 gone to carry his message he stood carelessly at the 
 head of the steps, his hands in his pockets and his glib 
 tongue telling the lieutenant how many years he had 
 lived in Prince William County before the war. A 
 moment later he was bidden to enter, and far back in
 
 BETWEEN THE LINES. 203 
 
 the dim recesses of the hall threw off the bushy beard 
 and clasped his sister in his arms. 
 
 " Father ! How is he ?" were the first words he 
 could say. 
 
 She clung to him, sobbing in speechless thanksgiv 
 ing that, if only for the time, he was safe, safe in her 
 embrace. She gloried in the address, the daring, the 
 devotion that had enabled him to thread his way 
 through miles of foemen to come at her call, and 
 gladden the fading eyes of the father who so loved 
 him who had so suffered for his sake. Yet she was 
 all unnerved. The sorrows, the privations of the long 
 winter, had told upon her more than she dreamed until 
 now, and, weak as a child, she lay on his breast, crying 
 her heart out in mingled joy, relief, and apprehension. 
 At last she looked up in his eyes. 
 
 " He is very feeble ; he will be so overjoyed to see 
 you but oh, Henry, did you not receive my warning ? 
 Do you not know your very life is perilled by this dis 
 guise ?" 
 
 " It was too late to warn after your first letter 
 reached me, sister mine. I hardly dared hope to find 
 him alive after these interminable delays. I started 
 the instant leave was granted me and before the move 
 ment of the Federals was known, but they got first to 
 Warrenton, and it has been sharp work since. Heav 
 en ! If I could only send back word this night 1 If 
 Stuart only knew what I know how few how scat 
 tered they are ! We might rush a regiment or two up 
 here and ride off with the whole gang. Take me to 
 father. There I can tell you the rest."
 
 204 BETWEEN THE LINES. 
 
 That meeting need not be dwelt upon. For an hour 
 the old man lay there clinging to the hand of his stal 
 wart son, while Lucy sat by her brother's side, drink 
 ing in his every word. Both father and daughter were 
 thrilled at the story of his perilous journey. It would 
 have been utterly impossible for him to get through 
 so long as he wore any item of Confederate dress or 
 equipment. The line of the Rappahannock was closely 
 guarded all the way to the forks of the Hedgman River. 
 He expected to find no Federal troops west of the 
 Orange and Alexandria Railway, but the sudden ex 
 pedition to capture Mosby had filled the country with 
 cavalry, and every town and every road from Sulphur 
 Springs northward seemed infested with them. Near 
 Amissville chance befriended him. He found there 
 the scout Tierney, who, with the full knowledge of 
 both Stuart and Mosby, was in the employ of the Fed 
 eral "Secret Service." It was his business to spend 
 most of his time with the lines of the Army of the 
 Potomac, but to slip out and give prompt information 
 of important moves, while feeding his employers with 
 any such pap in the way of reports of the position and 
 numbers (the latter purposely exaggerated) of the Con 
 federates as he thought they would swallow. It was 
 a dangerous game, and one he could not long expect 
 to carry out. Both sides began to suspect him, he 
 said, and he had had trouble within the Federal lines, 
 and experienced great difficulty in getting out to warn 
 Mosby. He had been seized by the Yankees despite 
 his papers, and only by the skin of his teeth had he 
 escaped and made his way through the wood roads in
 
 BETWEEN THE LINES. 205 
 
 the nick of time. Now, of course, the game was up, 
 and he could no longer return. He was seeking to 
 get farther south, and appealed to Armistead to aid 
 him, confident that as one of Stuart's most trusted offi- 
 'cers he would be able to satisfy the Confederate offi 
 cers along the line to Gordonsville that he was not 
 a Yankee spy, but a loyal Virginian. Henry saw a 
 chance at once ; making a temporary exchange of 
 " mounts," and borrowing Tierney's hat, overcoat, 
 and Federal passes and papers, and gaining from him 
 such information as to the names of the officers, the 
 regiments, etc., he would be apt to encounter en route 
 as he needed, the young Virginian pushed boldly forth, 
 rode unhesitatingly among the very first party of blue- 
 coated horsemen he sighted across the stream ; told their 
 commander he was Tierney, hurrying through with im 
 portant information ; showed his papers ; scrawled with 
 a rough pencil a not bad imitation of the scout's signa 
 ture ; gave a good deal of information about the con 
 dition of things south of the river, and was allowed 
 to ride on, mainly by night, avoiding pickets and pa 
 trols when it was possible to do so, and thus escaping 
 delay; but being bold, communicative, and jovial when 
 ever he had to meet them, he succeeded at last in mak 
 ing his way to Hopeville village, and then pushed 
 through the Gap. Up to this moment he had not 
 been recognized by either friend or foe outside the 
 walls of his father's house. But it had taken time ; 
 there had been unavoidable detentions at more points 
 than one ; nothing but the imminent danger in which 
 he feared his father's life to be would have prompted
 
 206 BETWEEN THE LINES. 
 
 the risk. Now the question was how to get back, for 
 he dare not stay. 
 
 Several times during the day he felt compelled to 
 go out and chat with the men of the guard, exam 
 ine his horse, and talk of the ride before him as soon 
 as he was well rested. By four in the afternoon he 
 had decided that his best chance for success lay in a 
 bold trot down the pike to Warrenton. If Tierney's 
 defection had been discovered and reported by Col 
 onel Graham, those passes would soon be worse than 
 worthless. He must utilize them while they were 
 yet good. 
 
 But they had done their work already. Just as he 
 had resumed his disguise, and was about to say fare 
 well, Lucy was startled by the scurry of many hoofs ; 
 the shout of men surrounding the house, and the sud 
 den entrance of two officers in the Union blue followed 
 by several men. 
 
 " That's the man !" exclaimed the foremost. " Seize 
 him !" and almost before Henry had time to think, 
 two stout dragoons had thrown themselves upon him. 
 The role he was playing occurred to him at once, how 
 ever, and while Lucy, almost fainting from terror and 
 distress, sank back against her father's door, he boldly 
 faced the officers. 
 
 " What on earth does this mean, captain ? Surely 
 J saw you last night over near Salem. I showed you 
 my papers Tierney." 
 
 " Unluckily for you, Tierney, you did, as I happened 
 to remember when orders came this morning to make 
 every effort to find and arrest you."
 
 BETWEEN THE LINES. 207 
 
 " On what charge, pray ?" 
 
 " On the double charge of having murdered Captain 
 Mullane at Washington on the 10th of March, and 
 of deserting to Mosby's guerillas that same night."
 
 XX. 
 
 RETURNING to Washington as soon as he could ob 
 tain a fresh "mount" for himself, and leaving his 
 escort to follow by easy marches, Captain Dayton 
 reached the capital late on the evening after*his meet 
 ing with Westerlo. As they sat by the camp-fire, shel- 
 tei'ed by a tent fly, the two officers had talked for half 
 an hour or so before the younger bade his host good 
 night, and rolled himself in his blankets for such rest 
 as was possible to a man whose heart was filled with 
 anxiety. Already, he found, the very troopers of his 
 little escort were talking of the murder of Mullane, 
 and of the strong circumstantial evidence against 
 Kearny. The story flew from mouth to mouth in the 
 camp of Westerlo's detachment, and one or two offi 
 cers came and questioned him as to the truth of the 
 rumor. Dayton could only say that Mullane was cer 
 tainly dead, and that Kearny was a passenger on the 
 boat about the time the tragedy occurred, and there 
 had been previously a quarrel between them. Know 
 ing the major, however, from early boyhood, he felt 
 confident that he was not the murderer. But the offi 
 cers knew that the object of his ride to the neighbor 
 hood was to search for Major Kearny, who had cer 
 tainly accompanied the column. What possible ex-
 
 BETWEEN THE LINES. iJ09 
 
 cuse could Kearny have had for joining a command 
 and an expedition where he had no official position? 
 Did not that look queer? This question made Dayton 
 hot, and his answer was, therefore, decidedly cutting. 
 Major Kearny, he said, knew more about this section 
 of the country than any of the officers going out with 
 the column. He had a week's " delay," doubtless had 
 heard of the start of the command, and instantly re 
 solved to follow and overtake it, and tender his ser 
 vices as a volunteer. Such conduct might seem in 
 comprehensible to the questioner, but was most char 
 acteristic in Major Kearny, and had been very hand 
 somely recognized by Colonel Graham in his report. 
 
 All the same, Dayton was feverishly eager to get 
 back to Washington and join his friend. He more 
 than suspected that it was a longing to see the fair 
 girl at the Armistead place that prompted Kearny to 
 seize the opportunity to come with Graham's com 
 mand, and it was evident that he had returned to 
 Washington as soon as the brief interview was com 
 pleted. Something had told him that there was a love 
 affair back of all this gloomy and restless demeanor 
 of Kearny's. He knew there must be from the fury 
 with which he had resented Mullane's accusation; and 
 now he was confident that, thus far at least, Kearny 
 had not prospered in his suit. He had only dimly 
 seen the sweet face in the dark hallway, and he ven 
 tured to ask Colonel Westerlo if he had met the young 
 lady. 
 
 " Ah, I have two or three times," was the reply. 
 "And I grieve for her. Her father is going fast, I 
 14
 
 210 BETWEEN THE LINES. 
 
 fear; her brother is an officer of Stuart's cavalry; her 
 lover a handsome fellow was captured by our ad 
 vance the night we got to Thoro'fare; and she is ut 
 terly alone in the world. And, you mark me, captain, 
 she is a thorough-bred; she is a lady. Ah, my heart 
 aches for her." 
 
 "Who is the lover? Did you see him?" 
 
 " See him ? Yes. Worse luck, I ' gobbled ' him; 
 and, worst luck of all, I told her! It almost turned 
 her into stone. I thought I had killed her. She reeled 
 and nearly fainted, and was deathly white. Oh, but 
 she is game, that little one; she is brave 1" 
 
 " And who is the man ?" 
 
 " His name is Falconer. He is from Warrenton, 
 and is a captain of cavalry. He had been visiting her 
 when he got the news of our coming, and he ran into 
 our advance while trying to make his way to his peo 
 ple in the Gap." 
 
 Late the next night Dayton reached Willard's, after 
 a journey that had been an all-day affair. He had left 
 Westerlo at the peep of dawn, and was tired out and 
 splashed with mud when he strode into the office of 
 the familiar old hostelry. Dozens of men in uniform, 
 of all grades from major-general down to second lieu 
 tenant, were grouped about the marble pavement, and 
 many ceased their talk and looked curiously at him as 
 he entered. 
 
 "Has Major Kearny returned?" he asked, with eager 
 ness he could not conceal. 
 
 The clerk glanced up quickly. 
 
 ' Captain Dayton ?" he asked. " Yes, and wants to
 
 BETWEEN THE LINES. 211 
 
 see you at once on your arrival. There are one or 
 two gentlemen with him. now. Will you go right 
 up ?" 
 
 And Dayton, too anxious and impatient to feel the 
 weight of his weariness, was ushered at once to his 
 comrade's room. Two officers were sitting with him, 
 and a portly man in civilian dress lounged in a big 
 arm-chair. All arose as the travel-stained soldier en 
 tered, and Kearny sprang eagerly forward and grasped 
 him by the hand. 
 
 "Dear old fellow ! what a time you must have had 
 and all on my account ! Where have you been ?" 
 
 " I'll tell you that presently. Tell me first that you 
 have cleared these muddy heads hereabouts, and put 
 an end to their suspicions." 
 
 " How is it, gentlemen ?" said Kearny, with a grave, 
 sad smile, turning to his visitors. " Let me present 
 my old chum, Captain Dayton. Major Ross; Captain 
 Foster of the staff. The senator of course you know. 
 From all accounts, mon ami, you needed no evidence 
 to clear me in your loyal heart, but an alibi is the 
 least point on which the defence rests the case. I 
 wasn't there." 
 
 "I'm glad to hear it, Kearny; and where did you 
 leave the boat ?" 
 
 " At Alexandria. I was up and dressed when we 
 reached there, and on the dock whom should I meet 
 but Stockton, of the regular cavalry. He told me that 
 he was going out to join Graham's command under 
 orders from the War Department. He knew the ob 
 ject of the move, but neither of us supposed that Gra-
 
 212 BETWEEN THE LINES. 
 
 ham would start that night. I was delayed in getting 
 a suitable horse, and it was late that day before we 
 reached the camp of Stockton's troop. We were to 
 gether all day long, so that ended the case against 
 me. Next morning I galloped forward and caught 
 Graham at Centreville. Of course I was amazed at 
 the charge against me, but it was all set at rest by 
 Stockton. Now the question is who did it ? Have 
 you any theory ?" 
 
 Dayton hesitated a moment, then slowly answered : 
 
 " I have some vague suspicion of a man whom we 
 saw on the boat the night you started for Washing 
 ton, but who disappeared immediately after the mur 
 der. I gave his name and description to the police, 
 but as yet have seen none of them since my return. 
 It was that tall, lanky fellow, Kearny the man with 
 the big, bushy beard, whom you noticed and spoke of 
 having seen elsewhere in different dress. You re 
 member they told us on the boat he was a quarter 
 master's clerk name of Freeman and that Mullane 
 had won a lot of money from him." 
 
 Kearny's eyes gleamed with eager interest. " I do 
 indeed !" he said. " Go on !" 
 
 " Well, I cannot, further than to say that he did not 
 come back to Acquia with the boat, and that he has 
 not been seen aboard it since; or had not up to the 
 day I started in pursuit of you." 
 
 " I have already explained to these gentlemen, Day? 
 ton, that while I was glad of an opportunity to be of 
 service to Graham and his command, I had hoped to 
 find it possible to make my way out to Hopeville Gap
 
 BETWEEN THE LINES. 213 
 
 to personally visit the family that saved me from death 
 or imprisonment, or both, after the Gainesville fight. 
 But for this dash after Mosby I might have been un 
 able to get out there at all; yet that was the object of 
 my requesting this week's delay." 
 
 The captain of the staff, who had been seated qui 
 etly at the farther end of the sofa, now rose and came 
 forward. 
 
 " I am going up to the Department, Major Kearny, 
 and have only waited in hopes of seeing Captain Day 
 ton on his return. It was a matter I did not intend 
 to mention until later, but I want to congratulate the 
 captain on being the first man to hit on the true solu 
 tion of this case." 
 
 " You mean I am right that it was Freeman who 
 did it ?" asked Dayton, eagerly. 
 
 " You are right, although it wasn't Freeman. To 
 day's discoveries at the Secret Service office establish 
 the fact that Freeman, so called, wrote a letter to Mul- 
 lane telling him he had evidence to prove that Mullane 
 had cheated him at cards, and won all his money from 
 him by a scoundrelly trick; so he bade him be at the 
 landing, and come to his room on the boat prepared to 
 restore every cent, or he would have him arrested and 
 cashiered in disgrace. The letter, signed by a very 
 different name, but one we know equally well, was not 
 obtained by the police until this morning, as it lay in 
 the hack where Mullane had dropped it. The hack- 
 man was frightened at the murder, and had kept in 
 the dark until ferreted out, and then gave evidence 
 that he had been employed by some 'out-of-town
 
 214 BETWEEN THE LINES. 
 
 sports' to drive them with Mullane from a certain 
 low saloon to the boat; thence he took them to the 
 Baltimore depot, and could hear them quarrelling 
 among themselves over the money out of which they 
 had fleeced the captain during the night. They had 
 won almost every cent he had, and he was drunk, 
 ugly, truculent, and butt-headed at the time he went 
 aboard. There was evidently a quarrel, a grapple, and 
 then the death-shot. Whether intentional or not, it 
 was fired by a man then employed as a scout and agent 
 of the Secret Service Bureau, who immediately there 
 after crossed into Virginia, got his horse and field 
 equipments, joined that night the column under Col 
 onel Graham, and made his escape in time to warn 
 Mosby of their coming." 
 
 "By Heaven!" exclaimed Kearny, "it was that 
 scoundrel Tierney. The same who betrayed me last 
 year." 
 
 " The very man," calmly answered Captain Foster. 
 "And there is no question that he has been a two- 
 faced villain all through, and serving the rebellion 
 while drawing pay from us. You never saw any one 
 so taken aback as the chief. He has stood up for that 
 fellow through thick and thin, and now he looks as 
 though he wanted to go and hang himself." 
 
 "Better hang Tierney, if they can lay hands on 
 him," suggested the senator. 
 
 " Oh, never fear as to that ! provided they catch 
 him; but he'll never be fool enough to get within our 
 lines again. If he should, and any of Graham's brig 
 ade lay hands on him, up he'll go to the first tree."
 
 BETWEEN THE LINES. 215 
 
 " No wonder he slunk away and kept out of sight 
 the evening we boarded the boat at Acquia !" said 
 Kearny. " I always knew that it was his doing that 
 the blackguardly story about my stay at Hopeville was 
 first whispered abroad. We could not recognize him 
 in his disguise, but he knew me. What orders have 
 been given in the case, captain ?" 
 
 " They go out to-night, warning all commanders of 
 columns or detachments in Virginia to be on the look 
 out for the ex-scout Tierney; giving a description of 
 the man, and copies of all his orders and papers. No 
 instructions that I heard of at the office were given as 
 to the disposition to be made of him. I fancy that is 
 left to the imagination. And now, major, I know you 
 and Captain Dayton have much to talk of I will re 
 port your return to the adjutant -general, captain 
 and I'll say good-night. You leave for Trenton in the 
 morning?" 
 
 " I hope to," answered Kearny, with the same grave, 
 quiet smile. "I trust no new accusation or suspicion 
 may attach to me by that time, or the governor may 
 decide it best to declare a vacancy, and make another 
 major." 
 
 Then the senator and Major Ross decided it time 
 for them to go and leave the friends together ; and no 
 sooner were they alone than Dayton threw himself 
 wearily back in the big arm-chair. Kearny stood over 
 him, placed his hand on his shoulder, and looked down 
 in his face. 
 
 " Did you see her ?" 
 
 " For a moment only, yes."
 
 216 BETWEEN THE LINES. 
 
 " Was all well with them ?" 
 
 "I fear not, Frank. I met old Colonel Westerlo 
 there, commanding a detachment of the Penn 
 sylvania Cavalry, a fine old soldier, and he is deeply 
 interested in their welfare ; but he tells me the judge 
 is proud as Lucifer and stubborn as a mule. He won't 
 accept anything in the way of attention won't see 
 anybody; refuses even a visit from the doctor ; and 
 he had heard from the negroes that the old gentleman 
 was very ill and weak, and Miss Lucy nearly starving ; 
 they had been daily expecting a visit from the family 
 physician, and needing him, but the very day I got 
 there Westerlo heard that that red-hot old martinet 
 Van Duzen had ordered Dr. Loring's arrest, and had 
 sent him under guard to Chantilly." 
 
 " On what possible charge, pray? If anything, Dr. 
 Loring is a Union man in his innermost heart. What 
 will old Van do next? He is too flighty and rabid an 
 old dragoon to leave in an independent command there. 
 He'll be for hanging somebody yet." 
 
 "Kearny, from what Westerlo tells me, I am seri 
 ously worried about your friends there. Can you not 
 write a letter to Van Duzen and commend them to his 
 care and courtesy, because of their long kindness to 
 you when you were under their roof?" 
 
 " I'll do it this night, of course ; but as we are 
 strangers to each other I must get the senator and 
 some other dignitary to endorse it. Then it must go 
 safely to Van Duzen ; such a thing would only hurt 
 them if it should fall into Southern hands. I hope 
 my visit resulted in the relief of their pressing needs.
 
 BETWEEN THE LINES. 217 
 
 It did not help me, God knows. Yes, I know your 
 natural supposition, and it is true. I am hard hit 
 hard hit. All to no purpose, too ; she told me frankly 
 there was another." 
 
 "Yes, I heard of it; Westerlo told me. I know it 
 has been the cause of all your misery this winter." 
 
 "What did Westerlo tell you?" 
 
 "He was well-nigh used up," answered Dayton. 
 " Utterly unconscious of the fact that it was her lover 
 he was speaking of, he told her of his capture, and she 
 nearly fainted away. He said " 
 
 "Whose capture when?" 
 
 " That very night, by Westerlo's advance-guard 
 Captain Falconer. Wasn't that the man she told you 
 of?" 
 
 " Falconer ! captured again? Yes, that's the man."
 
 XXI. 
 
 NIGHT, dark and cheerless, had fallen on the old 
 homestead at Hopeville. Except in the room of the 
 aged invalid, not a gleam of light shone from within 
 its walls. Around the house the sentries paced as 
 usual, and with an air of increased alertness and im 
 portance. The capture made just before dusk was 
 one that rewarded hours of hitherto seemingly sense 
 less vigil. There was something, after all, about this 
 mysterious household, whose members they saw only at 
 ten yards' distance, and whom they were enjoined to 
 treat with scrupulous respect, but on no account to 
 pass in or out. Either they were spies themselves or 
 harborers of deserters and spies, so ran the camp-fire 
 stories, but this evening's business had probably ended 
 their career of plotting. A strong guard had ridden 
 away into the dark gorge through the range, bearing 
 with them, strapped and bound to his horse, the two- 
 faced spy, murderer, and deserter to the enemy the 
 scout Tierney, who had trotted so confidently down 
 the pass that very morning, and spent the day in pri 
 vate interview with the invisible owner of the place. 
 Things looked black for that young Virginian, said 
 the officers in their talk with one another. The cap 
 tors brought the news that "old Van Duzen" had
 
 BETWEEN THE LINES. 219 
 
 received from Washington the day previous a full ac 
 count of the crimes with which the man was charged, 
 a description of him, and copies of his passes and pa 
 pers, and the orders were to find him if a possible 
 thing. It was speedily transmitted to the outposts, 
 and that very night " Tierney " himself had been 
 heard of at one of them. An officer galloped in to Van 
 Duzen's headquarters with this important news, and 
 in less than an hour several strong detachments were 
 roused from their night's rest, and sent forth at early 
 dawn to scour the country in pursuit. One of these had 
 easily traced the man to Hopeville village, and thence 
 through the Gap. Now they were riding back in tri 
 umph, and with the rising of the morrow's sun " old 
 Van " would be in possession of his coveted prisoner. 
 It was a bet of five to one that he would hang him 
 inside of twenty - four hours. If Graham got back 
 from the Shenandoah in time to interpose, the man 
 would doubtless have the benefit of a trial, but other 
 wise the " short shrift and sudden cord " was the least 
 he could expect. 
 
 And yet how cool and calm he was ! Captain Wise, 
 who was present at the capture, seemed greatly trou 
 bled for the young lady, who had been shocked be 
 yond description by the abrupt announcement of the 
 charges against Tierney, and the somewhat violent 
 means of his arrest. No one supposed that he was a 
 person of any social position or consideration until 
 that moment, but it became instantly apparent that 
 he must have been of great consequence in the eyes of 
 Miss Armistead, and that established beyond question
 
 220 BETWEEN THE LINES. 
 
 the belief that he must come from the same grade 
 one of the old families of the grand old common 
 wealth. She had for an instant seemed stricken dumb 
 with horror ; had almost fainted; then had rushed for 
 ward and seized his arm. 
 
 "Gentlemen," she cried, "it is some fearful mis 
 take ; it cannot be true!" 
 
 But it was Tierney himself, said Wise, who sud 
 denly and proudly checked her. 
 
 "Miss Armistead!" he loudly and firmly spoke, "not 
 one word unless you would make it worse for me. 
 You know I am not guilty of such crime, and I can 
 satisfy all accusers at the proper time." And with 
 anguish in her eyes she had fallen back to a seat, and 
 bowed her head in her hands, but said no more. Who 
 could the man be? His whole manner and intona 
 tion seemed to change when he spoke to her, and was 
 obeyed as one in her own station who had the right to 
 advise or command. This was a matter over which 
 Wise pondered long and deeply that night when he 
 was again left alone with his little command; but he 
 pondered to no purpose. The problem was too much 
 for him. 
 
 Could he have but seen the sight in the poor old 
 father's room that bitter evening, no doubt would 
 have remained. Judge Armistead, lying on the old 
 sofa in his study, had heard every word. His rallied 
 faculties had quickly grasped the whole horror of the 
 situation, and the imminent peril of his beloved son 
 flashed upon him in an instant. It was better better 
 for the time being, at least that he should appear as
 
 BETWEEN THE LINES. 221 
 
 the murderer, the deserter, the double-dealing scoun 
 drel Tierney, than be known in his true character an 
 officer and a gentleman of the Confederate service 
 caught disguised and with false papers within the 
 Union lines. 
 
 In the first predicament, as Tierney, he could stout 
 ly deny the murder, the desertion, and demand trial. 
 They would not be apt to hang a man without proofs 
 of his crime, and he would probably be taken to 
 Washington ; possibly not until then would his iden 
 tity be discovered. On the other hand, if discovered 
 here and now if recognized and pointed out as Henry 
 Armistead while yet he stood within the control of 
 Colonel Van Duzen his doom was sealed. No proofs 
 could then be lacking or demanded. And had not the 
 whole country-side been warned that if any were capt 
 ured in disguise and found to be Confederate officers, 
 their lives would be the forfeit? When he heard the 
 escort ride away, and listened to the stern, brief or 
 ders given to shoot the prisoner dead should he at 
 tempt to escape, the father's heart sank within him. 
 He cried aloud in anguish that his son could be thus 
 torn from his side and he be forced to stifle every 
 word of sympathy or love at parting, lest in so speak 
 ing he betray him to a fate worse even than the plight 
 in which his recklessness and devotion had plunged 
 him. The old gray head, bowed with grief and ills 
 and bitter sorrow, was hidden in his arms when poor 
 Lucy staggered to the bedside and threw herself, de 
 spairing, on her knees. Ah, God! There were sore 
 hearts and desolate homes far in the wintry North,
 
 222 BETWEEN THE LINES. 
 
 far in the balmier fields where the Gulf winds blew, 
 but we never knew such suffering and such sorrows 
 as did they who dwelt "between the lines." 
 
 It was in the hour of their direst need, after a night 
 of sleepless misery, that there came to them late on 
 the following day the gray-haired veteran "Westerlo. 
 He had obtained leave to ride over and see them, he 
 said; and Lucy, weeping and exhausted, could almost 
 have fallen into his arms and sobbed in mingled relief 
 and anguish on his fatherly breast. In few words he 
 told them what he knew and what he feared. She 
 had led him to the bedside of the sore-stricken man, 
 and before he spoke at all Westerlo's suspicions were 
 confirmed. He was at headquarters when Van Duzen 
 received his prisoner that morning. The manner, the 
 bearing, the eyes of the tall and soldierly fellow who 
 stood calmly erect before his questioners were not 
 those of a traitorous wretch such as Tierney was 
 known or believed to be. As Westerlo stood there 
 and studied him, and then listened to the story of his 
 arrival at the homestead and the incidents of his capt 
 ure, he became possessed with a violent longing to go 
 without delay to the stricken ones at Hopeville. Op 
 portunity presently came ; some little strings of evi 
 dence as to the alleged Tierney's wanderings were 
 needed. Westerlo tendered his services to his supe 
 rior officer, and by noon was galloping furiously away. 
 
 "I come to speak to you of this scout," he said to 
 these prostrate foes after a few inquiries of the judge 
 as to his health. " I ask you nothing. I seek not to 
 pry into any secret. It might not do for me to know,
 
 BETWEEN THE LINES. 223 
 
 but he stands accused of crimes that, if proved, would 
 hang him, and he says they cannot be proved, and he 
 demands that they take him to Washington and let 
 him there establish his innocence. My superior is a 
 most ardent hater of this unholy rebellion; he is very 
 bitter. It becomes me not to speak of my command 
 er, and I must not criticise. Nor could I urge him to 
 send his prisoner to the capital to be tried by the slo\*v 
 process of court-martial. It is an example here he 
 needs, and there was only one way I could stay him. 
 Two different stories had been told of what he said 
 of the accounts he gave of himself to the guard here 
 and to the picket at Hopeville village. I am sent to 
 get the truth, and I come at speed, but not so do I re 
 turn. My commander will not act until I get back, 
 and I will pray that Colonel Graham is already en 
 route and will be there before me. Then he will not 
 hang ; he will be taken to Washington ; it is possible 
 I go with the escort, for Colonel Graham is my kind 
 friend. I ask it that I may have a day or two and 
 run up to my home and see my own little girl. Now, 
 dear young lady, dear sir, I hear of late a strange 
 story. They tell to me that this our brave Major 
 Kearny was brought to your house, was nursed, tend 
 ed, concealed from the troops of your own friends, 
 restored to health, to his home, his country, his com 
 rades, through your merciful kindness. My com 
 mander, Van Duzen he did not know this until 
 yesterday, and then it comes to him straight from 
 Washington no ! not from Major Kearny from the 
 War-office and he is distressed to think he had so
 
 224 BETWEEN THE LINES. 
 
 harshly included you in his orders. He gives me per 
 mission to see you, to see how we can serve you, and 
 for this I rejoice. But he can do little. Now I sup 
 pose a case: you have a son, a brother, a noble fellow, 
 if he is my enemy, whom in open fight I could not 
 shield; but war has its strange fortunes. Suppose he 
 should be captured; suppose he be in our hands in 
 danger. Would not a great nation, a great people 
 like ours, rise and say, 'It was he who shielded our 
 soldier ; it was his people who brought him back from 
 the shadow of death. Now we ask mercy for him.' 1 
 Dear young lady, if that should happen, if it should 
 be that your brother stood in danger of his life, is 
 there not some paper, some letter, you could trust to 
 me that I may show the powers at Washington and 
 restore him to you?" 
 
 The old gentleman lay on his pillow with averted 
 face, listening in speechless thanksgiving to this wily 
 and diplomatic dragoon. Lucy, weeping and beam 
 ing by turns, blessing in her heart of hearts the gen 
 erous and thoughtful soldier who had come to them 
 in their depth of woe, bringing hope and cheer and 
 consolation Lucy, who had once believed no man in 
 the Federal blue could ever win a kindly thought from 
 her, now seized the colonel's rugged hand and clasped 
 it in both her own. For a few moments she sat trem 
 bling and expectant, waiting for her father to speak, but 
 at last she bent over the silent form and saw the rea 
 son ; he too was weeping, yet striving to hide his tears. 
 
 Impulsively she turned, and with brimming eyes 
 looked into Westerlo's face.
 
 BETWEEN THE LINES. 225 
 
 "We have such a letter, such papers. We have 
 here the very pages my brother Henry wrote to us 
 the night he captured Mr. Kearny. Without them 
 we could not have concealed him here. With them, 
 we could not say no ; and yet and yet oh, Colonel 
 Westerlo, there are words in them that will wring my 
 brother's heart if shown or known. They tell of mat 
 ters he would never speak of even to me. They give 
 a reason for his determination to save Mr. Kearny 
 from going to a Southern prison or taking his chances 
 with other men. Father ! Would he forgive me 
 if I let it go ? He bade me keep it until the war 
 was over, that he might show how he redeemed his 
 pledge." 
 
 " It can be in no safer hands than those of Colonel 
 Westerlo, my child," answered the old judge at last. 
 " He will guard it for us, to be used only in such case 
 as he described; and let me say this to you, sir: there 
 are other papers, there are letters which it may be in 
 our power to show you that will strengthen the im 
 pression which you predict as a result of this. And 
 again, look at our situation ; since the hour it was 
 known that we had befriended a Federal officer, and 
 stood between him and capture and imprisonment, 
 every friend we ever had in all this state turned from 
 us on the instant. We are utterly alone. Sir, we will 
 not accept aid or comfort for ourselves. Let this 
 prove my words" and he turned to Lucy "the 
 package, daughter, with Major Kearny's money; bring 
 it here. I shall ask you, colonel, to see that it is safe 
 ly restored to him. We will not, I say, ask or accept 
 15
 
 226 BETWEEN THE LINES. 
 
 aid for ourselves, but should you ever hear of my boy 
 in danger of his life or honor, you will not forget ?" 
 
 " Forget ? By Heaven ! I could as soon forget my 
 mother's face," answered Westerlo. "With every 
 time I look upon your daughter's eyes I am ready to 
 implore that you should let me take you take you 
 and her to my home. There you are safe, at least, as 
 my own ; there you can have tender care and nursing, 
 and your health will return. Judge Armistead, surely 
 it can be done." 
 
 "You are a noble, a knightly soldier, Colonel "West 
 erlo. From my heart I thank you. It is too late 
 too late. I shall never leave Virginia; but when I 
 am gathered to my fathers, she my child will be 
 utterly alone here. If then if then " 
 
 " Hush ! she comes. Then, now, at any time hence 
 forth, she shall be as my own. You have my word." 
 
 And Judge Armistead's trembling hand sought and 
 clasped the broad and sinewy palm extended to him 
 as the two men looked in each other's eyes. Then 
 Lucy re-entered the room, and handed to her father 
 the sealed packet and some letters. 
 
 An hour later Colonel Westerlo had bidden them 
 adieu and started on his return. He had exchanged 
 a few words with Captain Wise, and given him some 
 hints as to the propriety of diminishing his guards 
 and augmenting his personal courtesies to the stricken 
 household. He had made arrangements to have the 
 assistant surgeon sent up to see the failing old man, 
 and he had stolen into the kitchen and had a brief 
 consultation with Aunt Bell, as a result of which some
 
 BETWEEN THE LINES. 227 
 
 more boxes were smuggled over from the camp of the 
 cavalry detachment. Then, bearing his precious doc 
 uments, he waved his hand in adieu to Lucy, who ap 
 peared one instant on the piazza, and set forth on his 
 return. 
 
 Two miles outside of headquarters he came upon 
 the cavalry picket at a fork of the road. The ser 
 geant looked up eagerly as he saluted the popular old 
 field-officer. 
 
 " They're expecting you back, colonel, and are get 
 ting mighty impatient, from what I can learn." 
 
 " Why, what has happened ?" 
 
 " Oh, nothing much, except that the man we took 
 to be Tierney isn't him at all. It is a Reb officer 
 we've got, running our lines as a spy in disguise. 
 There's going to be a hanging at sunrise." 
 
 " My God !" was all Westerlo could say as he struck 
 spurs to his horse and urged him to the gallop.
 
 XXII. 
 
 DESPITE the vigor of his actions as temporary com 
 mander of the district, " old Van Duzen" was a sorely 
 perturbed official. Some one had succeeded in arous 
 ing in his mind grave distrust as to the security of 
 his position. Mosby, it is true, had scampered away 
 to the Shenandoah, and was frequently heard of at 
 various points along that beautiful valley. Graham, 
 with three regiments, had given chase, and was now 
 separated by many a long mile from the inexperienced 
 soldier whose years had pointed him out as a good 
 man to leave behind when rapid marching was ex 
 pected of the column, and whose prominence in poli 
 tics gave him, supposably, some qualifications as a 
 manager of local affairs. It was by no means a tur 
 bulent neighborhood. All the people who had else 
 where to go had long since left so dangerous a field as 
 that which lay subject to incessant incursions from 
 troopers of the opposing forces. Most of the little 
 towns were well-nigh depopulated. Few of the farms 
 had other tenants than the birds of the air ; but what 
 made the region full of wordless terrors to the old 
 politician-colonel was the close proximity of the fords 
 and bridges of the upper Rappahannock only a long 
 day's march away. Beyond them his scouts dare not
 
 BETWEEN THE LINES. 229 
 
 venture, and who could say what that restless rider, 
 Stuart, might not be doing on the southern shore ? 
 Night and day Van Duzen's dream was of a sudden 
 rush past his outposts, and a furious descent upon his 
 scantily garrisoned camp. He had pickets and out 
 posts covering every road for miles to the south and 
 east. He sent couriers every day to follow the Shen- 
 andoah column, and he besieged the War Department 
 with despatches urging that he be strongly rein 
 forced. The country, he said, was full of spies. He 
 had every reason to expect a dash of Rebel cavalry 
 any hour of the day or night. He was ready to fight 
 to the last man, so he declared in ringing reports to 
 an admiring constituency at home, but he begged his 
 friends to urge their representatives at Washington to 
 insist on his being instantly and greatly strengthened. 
 By this time, as was well known at the War Depart 
 ment, Stuart was kept very busy along the lower Rap 
 pahannock watching the movements of Hooker's dra 
 goons ; but Van Duzen was one of those men who 
 could hardly believe that the cause of the rebellion 
 cherished one higher ambition than to capture and 
 carry off to Richmond no less a personage than him 
 self, and he would sooner be shot, he said, than fall 
 into the hands of the Confederacy. Yet he enjoyed, 
 after a way of his own, the prominence of his posi 
 tion. In the absence of news from other sources the 
 representatives of the press had no trouble in getting 
 whole columns of sensation from his oracular lips. 
 "Special correspondents" were easily obtainable 
 among his henchmen, and the vehement and vigorous
 
 230 BETWEEN THE LINES. 
 
 efforts of the gallant Colonel Van Duzen in the sup 
 pression of the rebellion were daily thrilling thou 
 sands and thousands of readers with reviving hope, 
 and people were already wondering how long an un 
 grateful administration would delay his promotion 
 to a generalship ; and Major Kearny had just marched 
 across the Long Bridge with his new regiment when 
 he was startled, and many a reader electrified, by the 
 tidings that Colonel Van Duzen had captured within 
 his lines, disguised as a Union scout and amply pro 
 vided with authentic orders, credentials, etc., an officer 
 holding confidential relations with General "Jeb" 
 Stuart " a distinguished scion of the F. F. V.'s " 
 Major Henry Armistead of the Confederate Cavalry ; 
 and that it was probable that the fate of the spy, 
 death by hanging, would be the penalty of his rash 
 ness before the setting of another sun. He had safe 
 ly penetrated the lines, said this glowing account ; 
 had obtained most important information as to our 
 forces, their numbers and position, and was just about 
 returning when arrested by the vigilance and unerring 
 judgment of Colonel Van Duzen. At first he stoutly 
 maintained that he was what his papers represented 
 him a scout and secret-service employee, but he was 
 recognized at once by several "intelligent contra 
 bands " who had known him for years, and when ar 
 rested was in the act of bidding farewell to his ven 
 erable father at his home near Hopeville Gap. The 
 case against him was clear, and it was absolutely nec 
 essary, said the scribe, that a stern example be prompt 
 ly made. Ample authority had already been given
 
 BETWEEN THE LINES. 231 
 
 Colonel Van Duzen in the premises, and there could 
 be no question that so fervent a patriot and sterling a 
 soldier would do his full duty. 
 
 And so it happened that Kearny, miles away, and 
 "VVesterlo, close at hand, were spurring that night to 
 reach the scene before the fatal order could be carried 
 into effect. Westerlo was on the spot and in presence 
 of the district commander as the cavalry trumpets 
 were sounding tattoo. Kearny was clattering through 
 the streets of a well-nigh deserted village with an all- 
 night ride before him. Few words were needed to gain 
 the desired permission. His new colonel was an old 
 soldier of the ante-bellum, days, who knew the story of 
 his young major's rescue and preservation by that 
 very family, who already half suspected that his heart 
 was left behind him in the shadows of the Bull Run 
 range, who had noted the eagerness with which ho 
 rode forth upon the well-remembered highway beyond 
 Fort Runyon when they reached the "sacred soil" 
 that morning ; and who knew his suspicions were well 
 grounded when at nightfall Kearny came to him, pa 
 per in hand, trembling at the lips with anxiety and 
 emotion, to proffer his request to be allowed to push 
 ahead without delay. 
 
 Meanwhile old "VVesterlo had lost no time. Briefly 
 reporting to his superior the result of his observations 
 during the day, he asked the honor of a private inter 
 view, and Van Duzen, hardly knowing what to make 
 of the matter, acceded. He stood a little in awe of the 
 educated soldier whom the fortunes of a war replete 
 with oddest fortunes had thrown under his command.
 
 232 BETWEEN THE LINES. 
 
 " I hear from several sources as I return to camp," 
 began Westerlo, the moment they were alone, "a 
 strange story. Is it true, colonel, that our prisoner 
 is recognized as Captain Armistead, the son of the 
 poor old gentleman at Hopeville ?" 
 
 " It is true, sir, beyond a doubt. His identity was 
 discovered to us just after you left by a faithful 
 colored man, and corroborated by several others. It 
 is a most important arrest a most important arrest. 
 I telegraphed the news at once to Washington at 
 least, my adjutant assures me it went at once, and 
 the line is fortunately up. They make no reply. It 
 is evident they have full confidence in my ability 
 and intention to carry out the custom of war in like 
 cases." 
 
 " And, pardon me, you will wait no instructions ?" 
 
 " I need none, sir," was the stately reply. " I know 
 my duty painful though it be. So flagrant a case, 
 after all we have published as to our intentions, can 
 not be overlooked. Why, sir, it was sheer bravado 
 Southern braggadocio that prompted that young cox 
 comb to dare me in this way. I have not a doubt, 
 sir, he has seen my proclamation to the people of this 
 district, and he and his fellow-rebels put up the scheme 
 to make me a laughing-stock a laughing-stock. He 
 dared to ride clear through my lines, sir, and doubtless 
 vaunted himself on the exploit, and now was going 
 back, laughing in his sleeve at me, to bring Stuart 
 and his whole force at his heels to drag us off to Libby. 
 But I beat him at his own game, sir, and we'll see how 
 he'll laugh to-morrow."
 
 BETWEEN THE LINES. 233 
 
 " You will hang him then, I judge ?" said Westerlo, 
 quietly. 
 
 "What else? What said our immortal Washing 
 ton of Andre 'He was hanged as a spy' did he 
 not ?" 
 
 " Words to that effect, colonel, as I remember ; yet, 
 was there not something else ? ' He was tried as a 
 spy.' Have you tried Captain Armistead ?" 
 
 " GUI bono, Colonel Westerlo, cui bono f Why 
 attempt to prove a self-evident proposition? What 
 could be clearer than his case ?" 
 
 " Colonel Van Duzen, I am too old a soldier to 
 argue with my senior ; I am too respectful to you, 
 personally and officially, to venture a word of advice 
 without your full consent and by your invitation. I 
 have asked a private interview that no man might 
 know I ventured to ask you, my commander, to con 
 sider one little point. Sir, while I have been a soldier 
 from boyhood, humble and accustomed to obey, yours 
 has been the proud gift to be a ruler of men, a swayer 
 of the public mind. Yours is a name with which our 
 state resounds mine is known but as your loyal sub 
 ordinate. I would not for one moment question your 
 judgment in this most important matter. It is to pre 
 sent to you a phase of the question you cannot yet 
 have heard that I am here to ask it of you, not as a 
 right, but as a favor." 
 
 Van Duzen was disarmed. The subtle tribute to 
 his greatness was more than the statesman of the Sus- 
 quehanna could withstand. 
 
 "Proceed, Colonel Westerlo," he answered, with be-
 
 234 BETWEEN THE LINES. 
 
 coming dignity, yet with softened manner. " I shall 
 be glad of the counsel of so eminent a soldier." 
 
 " They tell me, colonel, he is to hang at sunrise. I 
 question not that you are satisfied your authority is 
 ample, and that the government will interpose no or 
 ders or delays. I look upon you, indeed, as having 
 final jurisdiction in the matter, and realize that the 
 fate of this unhappy youth is solely in your hands. 
 It is to you, therefore, I bring these papers, confided 
 to me as a sacred charge, and ask your consideration 
 of one point. He is here, this young rebel, in disguise 
 and with false papers. This brings him within the 
 penalties of your proclamation, and yet, if I prove to 
 you he came not as a spy, but solely to pay a last 
 visit, as he supposed, to a dying father, will it not in 
 duce you to defer his execution until another day, that 
 he may see once more the dear ones of his home." 
 
 "And meantime have Jeb Stuart rushing in and 
 whisking the whole crowd of us off to Libby ? Thank 
 you, Colonel Westerlo, but delays are dangerous. I 
 tell you, sir, this war has been conducted too long on 
 the kid-glove principle. The nation the people de 
 mand of us that we now take the bull of the rebellion 
 by the horns and crush the viper to earth." (Van 
 Duzen's metaphors, with his toddies, became mixed 
 in equal proportions, and Westerlo looked anxiously 
 around him, sure of seeing somewhere the demijohn 
 of Monongahela which was an invariable accompani 
 ment of his senior's campaigning.) "I conceive it to 
 be my bounden duty to make an immediate and telling 
 example of this case, and I have so decided."
 
 BETWEEN THE LINES. 235 
 
 " One moment more. Bear with me, my colonel," 
 said the old trooper. "Last year a young officer of 
 high connections and distinguished family was shot 
 and captured while carrying despatches. Ah ! You 
 know the story. I will not weary your patience, sir. 
 It was the father and the sister of this gentleman now 
 your prisoner who braved the wrath of all Virginia, 
 who sacrificed their social standing, who lost every 
 friend they ever had in this community, to save that 
 Buffering comrade from a fate you declare to be worse 
 than death. You know the circumstances, but you 
 cannot know, as I do, the sorrow and the sufferings of 
 these noble but most unfortunate people. Sir, the 
 revered old judge who so humanely gave Lieutenant 
 Kearny the shelter of his name and fireside now lies 
 at the door of death, heart-broken at the calamity that 
 has befallen his only son. The fair, lovely daughter 
 whose tender care nursed our Union soldier back to 
 life and strength, whose quick woman's art found him 
 a hiding-place when the Rebel authorities searched the 
 premises for him, the only sister of this condemned 
 Virginian is at her father's bedside sustained from de 
 spair and utter prostration only by his imminent need 
 of her care. When you hang Henry Armistead, you 
 kill one, perhaps both, of those loving souls at his 
 home across the range. Sir, I implore you, grant us 
 respite for one brief day. I say us, for I have learned 
 to know and honor these people. I say us because 
 their grief has become mine." 
 
 Van Duzen was silent. He would gladly have found 
 a good way out of the mire in which his high-flown
 
 236 BETWEEN THE LINES. 
 
 proclamations and portentous threats had plunged 
 him. On the other hand, would not all the morning 
 papers of his native state and of the waiting North be 
 filled with details of the energetic measures taken by 
 Colonel Van Duzen to crush the rebellion at its very 
 core? Of his pursuit and capture of this dangerous 
 and desperate man ? Of his stern but soldierly course ? 
 Of the last night of the condemned man on earth ? It 
 would never do to weaken now. Never ! 
 
 "I appreciate your feeling, Colonel Westerlo. I 
 would gladly show these people how we value the 
 services they rendered to a loyal son of the Union, 
 but they cannot ask of us the life of a spy for the life 
 of a soldier. Depend upon it, this misguided young 
 man would be among the first to condemn their action 
 and upbraid them for their disloyalty to their state. 
 It would be very different had we been indebted to 
 him for Major Kearny's life." 
 
 " You admit, do I understand, that it would induce 
 you to suspend sentence if it were young Armistead 
 to whom we owed Kearny's life ?" tremblingly asked 
 Westerlo, though striving to veil his deep anxiety. 
 
 " Well ah at an earlier stage of the proceedings 
 it would have had great weight great weight. Things 
 have gone so far, however " 
 
 " Colonel Van Duzen, forgive my haste. Forgive 
 me that I interrupt, but listen ; Henry Armistead and 
 Frank Kearny were intimate and devoted friends in 
 their college days. A romantic incident separated 
 and made a coldness between them. It was the fort 
 une of war that threw the latter, wounded, senseless,
 
 BETWEEN THE LINES. 237 
 
 and bleeding, into the hands of the former. It was 
 Armistead who tenderly cared for his captive for two 
 days and nights until he found means to send him to 
 his father's house. It was he who exacted of his peo 
 ple that they should conceal him, nurse him, restore 
 him to life and liberty, and the service of the Union 
 again if need be, that his promise might be kept un 
 sullied. Here is the letter he wrote. Listen : 
 
 " ' IN THE FIELD, NEAR GAINESVILLE, August 30, 1862. 
 
 " ' FATHER, The strangest fortune that ever fell to soldier's lot is 
 mine to-night. You know the old intimacy and friendship that ex 
 isted between Frank Kearny and me at Princeton. We were like 
 brothers until our senior year, when there came between us a cloud 
 a woman. I loved her and the quarrel was my fault. In the win 
 ter of '60-'61 he came to Richmond and we met as friends, but there 
 were subjects, this among them, on which we could not speak. In 
 the spring that followed, after Sumter's guns, I hastened hither from 
 New York, where I had gone to see her. She told me gently that my 
 hopes were all in vain that her heart was his that he had already 
 volunteered for the war. There is no need to tell you what this 
 meant to me. Before we parted she had won from me this promise 
 God knows I gave it solemnly, and, pitying her fears and sorrow, 
 with my heart in. my words that if ever he fell into my hands, and 
 it lay in my power to save him, save him I would. 
 
 " 'Thursday night, late, I had ventured with a small detachment to 
 strike the road between the Federal cavalry and the lines at Hay- 
 market, hoping to pick up staff-officers or stragglers. Luck was with 
 us. An officer strove to cut his way through, and in the excitement 
 and darkness my men almost killed before they could capture him. 
 Then, by the faint light of a camp-fire in the woods I examined my 
 unconscious prize, and found myself face to face with my promise. 
 
 "'Bleeding, senseless, stunned, and bruised, he has lain here hid 
 den for two days, nursed by the negroes who bear him to you and 
 tended by a surgeon whom I brought to him. I had to leave him all
 
 238 BETWEEN THE LINES. 
 
 day to take my part in the glorious victory we have won. The Yan 
 kees are in full retreat upon Washington. We go at dawn with 
 Jackson to strike their flank. Honor calls me with my troop my 
 word of honor is given here. In your hands and in Lucy's I place 
 my captive and my faith. As you love me, as you would preserve 
 my honor unsullied, receive this helpless enemy of our cause beneath 
 your roof. Conceal him from those who would take him to imprison 
 ment in which he would languish and die. When occasion offers, re 
 store him to his friends, and when all is over the war or my life 
 send this to her, that the woman I loved may know how an Armis- 
 tead kept his word even though it was to give her to another's arms. 
 " ' Lucy, you know her name. Do not speak it to a soul until this 
 letter is to be sent to her. Dear ones both, God bless and guard you, 
 and sustain me in the cause we love. 
 
 " ' Yours ever, HENRY ARMISTEAD.' " 
 
 There was a moment of silence in the room of the 
 old Virginia house in which the colonel was making 
 his headquarters. Then Westerlo spoke again. 
 
 " Colonel Van Duzen, would you hang as a spy a 
 man like that when he hasn't been spying at all ?"
 
 XXIII. 
 
 THERE were some sorely disappointed men among 
 the "camp followers" around district headquarters 
 during the next few days. Full and graphic details 
 of the hanging of one of the most distinguished sons 
 of a most distinguished Virginia family having been 
 prepared in advance, several correspondents having 
 spent the night in writing touching descriptions of 
 the manner in which the Rebel spy refused all friend 
 ly offices (he had simply declined to be interviewed), 
 and one energetic gentleman having "pre-empted" 
 the telegraph wire at no inconsiderable expense, it 
 was hard luck that they should be greeted with the 
 rising of the sun with such cheerless tidings as that 
 the condemned man had been accorded a respite. The 
 soldiers broke ranks after reveille roll-call, and scat 
 tered about their fires and coffee-kettles with un 
 feigned alacrity and cheerfulness. They were all 
 " ready and willing to blaze away and kill Armisteads 
 by the dozen in fair stand-up fight, or sabre them in 
 a cavalry charge, where every man had a show for his 
 life," said one old troop commander ; " but this here 
 hanging a fellow in sight of his friends and neighbors 
 is too one-sided a business for most of us, and d n 
 me if I wouldn't rather see the whole thing stopped."
 
 240 BETWEEN THE LINES. 
 
 Around the house in which Armistead had spent 
 the night a dozen soldiers armed with loaded carbines 
 paced restlessly to and fro. A dim light burned in 
 the room where he sat writing his last messages. At 
 dusk the adjutant had waited upon him, and with a 
 voice that shook despite his efforts to control it, an 
 nounced to him that under authority of the President 
 of the United States, and by order of the district com 
 mander, he would be hanged as a spy at daybreak. 
 The idea of being executed without trial other than a 
 mere search and a verbal examination on his own ad 
 mission, too, that he was Henry Armistead had not 
 occurred to him as possible. He turned very pale, but 
 stood and looked calmly in the officer's eyes. 
 
 " Do you mean that this is true ? Do you mean 
 that I, who am in no sense a spy, am to be executed 
 as such without the form of a trial and in such inde 
 cent haste ?" 
 
 "Such are the orders, sir. I have no alternative 
 but to tell you so and to ask how I can serve you 
 meantime." 
 
 Armistead was silent a moment, then, to the sur 
 prise of his much-embarrassed visitor, replied, 
 
 " By leaving me alone to think over this for half an 
 hour. Then, if you will call, I will thank you." 
 
 And the adjutant bowed and withdrew, giving orders 
 to the sentry at the door to keep his eyes on the pris 
 oner, and permit him to make no attempt on his life. 
 
 When the adjutant returned at the appointed time 
 he found the Virginian seated at a little wooden table. 
 He raised his head.
 
 
 
 54.
 
 BETWEEN THE LINES. 241 
 
 " I presume you will permit me to see one friend ?" 
 
 "It is the intention of the colonel to send at once 
 for your relatives at Hopeville. He has just succeed 
 ed in getting an ambulance up from Thoroughfare." 
 
 " Spare them that, and all knowledge of this mur 
 der until it is done. My father lies in an illness that 
 may be fatal. My sister cannot leave him. The man 
 I ask to see is our old family physician, Dr. Loring. 
 He lives not far from here." 
 
 " I regret that Dr. Loring has been sent to Wash 
 ington. We cannot reach him." 
 
 "Then let me have writing materials and freedom 
 from interruption of any kind. It is all I ask of you." 
 
 And it was all he would accept. Two officers be 
 sought him to let them be of service. He returned 
 their cards with courteous but positive refusal. Others 
 sent steaming coffee and a hot supper. He would not 
 touch it. The correspondents vainly pleaded for an 
 interview, and, his patience being exhausted, Armis- 
 tead begged the officer of the guard to secure him 
 against further annoyance. He was still writing 
 when, near midnight, the adjutant entered, followed 
 by an elderly officer with iron-gray hair and the ap 
 pearance of a man who had been for hours in the sad 
 dle over muddy roads. 
 
 "Captain Armistead, I come to you far more gladly 
 than I did at retreat. I am ordered to say to you that 
 Colonel Van Duzen has been pleased to grant a res 
 pite of two days in your case, and I present to you 
 Lieutenant-Colonel Westerlo, who will explain." 
 
 They were closeted together, talking in low tones, 
 16
 
 242 BETWEEN THE LINES. 
 
 after the first few formal words, for over an hour, and 
 parted with fervent shake of the hand. Then the old 
 dragoon went to his tent. It was after one when his 
 head rested at last upon his soldier pillow, but his face 
 wore a smile of hope and content. " A good night's 
 work, you old schemer," he muttered, addressing him 
 self, " a very good night's work. All I need is two 
 days, and I'll have this fine fellow out of danger of 
 your halters, Colonel District Commander Van Duzen. 
 Good-night to you, and blissful dreams, and may you 
 soon be in Congress, where you want to be, or heaven, 
 where you deserve to be, or anywhere out of the army, 
 where you've no business to be." 
 
 The sun was high over the Bull Run range, and 
 pouring in at the open flap of his tent, and his small 
 darky servitor had slaved for hours removing the mud 
 from his garments and equipments, and polishing his 
 huge top-boots and spurs, and still he slept. Not until 
 the trumpets pealed for guard-mounting did he start 
 from his pillow, and found on the camp-stool by his 
 bedside a card : 
 
 "Frank Kearny, Major New Jersey. The 
 
 very man, by Jupiter ! Here, Guyascutus, my Ethiop ; 
 where are you ? Where is this gentleman ?" 
 
 " Just done come," was the effect of the darky's re 
 ply. " He's gone to speak wid de officer of de gyard, 
 cunnel." 
 
 " Seek him, and bid him breakfast with me, and see 
 to it that breakfast is ready quick. Go !" exclaimed 
 the veteran, as he hastily garbed himself. He was the 
 picture of soldierly trimness and precision, when in
 
 BETWEEN THE LINES. 243 
 
 half an hour he emerged from his tent, and hastened 
 in search of his visitor. Kearny, on the other hand, 
 haggard, wearied, splashed with mud from his all- 
 night ride, looked ill by contrast. 
 
 " Something told me you would be here without de 
 lay, Major Kearny," said Westerlo, grasping his hand. 
 " Come to my tent at once. We will have breakfast 
 there, and be uninterrupted. Where heard you first 
 the news of this affair ?" 
 
 " At our camp a few miles this side of Alexandria, 
 late yesterday afternoon. I left at dark, the moment 
 I could get away." 
 
 " So ? Then you have had a long, long gallop. You 
 are worn out, but have heard the good news." 
 
 "I have ; and how much is due to you and your 
 efforts ? Colonel Van Duzen told me on my arrival. 
 I hardly dared hope. Colonel, I pray God that no 
 inkling of his possible fate has reached the family at 
 Hopeville." 
 
 " Bad news travels fast, but I send the surgeon over 
 there this morning, and he will reassure them if any 
 other story reached them. Still, they are in grievous 
 anxiety. My God ! think of that poor girl father, 
 brother, lover, all going or gone at one fell swoop !" 
 
 Kearny's face looked more haggard and worn than 
 ever as he sank into the camp-chair set for him by his 
 host. He made no answer. 
 
 " And a noble fellow is this Armistead," continued 
 Westerlo, " a friend worth having. I like him better 
 than the lover." 
 
 " You knew him ?" asked Kearny, with averted face.
 
 244 BETWEEN THE LINES. 
 
 " I saw his capture ; a poor fight he made of it. 
 One looked for something better in a man who won 
 the love of such a girl. Ah, Kearny, she is a heroine, 
 and he this Falconer who can account for women's 
 tastes? Yet he is handsome, winning I doubt not; 
 but a soldier bah !" 
 
 Breakfast seemed to have few attractions for 
 Kearny, and Westerlo, wondering at the sombre mood 
 and spiritless bearing of his new friend, attributed it 
 mainly to excessive fatigue. He hospitably pressed 
 him to eat, and finding that he had no appetite, and 
 could do but faint justice to the steaming soldier fare 
 so lavishly set before him, he urged him to remove his 
 boots and mud-stained garments and sleep a few hours. 
 But Kearny was restless, and eager to see Armistead 
 a favor promised him by the colonel commanding in 
 course of the morning. He had other questions to ask. 
 He longed to hear of Lucy, and he plied Westerlo 
 with inquiries as to the condition in which he left the 
 judge and her. He astonished the old dragoon by 
 grasping and squeezing his hand when he spoke of 
 the provisions he had forced upon their acceptance. 
 He more than surprised him by the consternation and 
 dismay with which he received back the package of 
 money which up to that moment Kearny fondly hoped 
 was keeping the wolf from the homestead door. It 
 began to dawn on Westerlo that here was a new com 
 plication, and Kearny's next inquiry strengthened the 
 conviction. 
 
 " Colonel Van Duzen told me of Armistead's letter. 
 He was on honor, he said, not to reveal its contents,
 
 BETWEEN THE LINES. 245 
 
 but that you had it. I know that originally I owed 
 my life and safety to his letter, though they showed 
 me far more than it ever called for of devoted atten 
 tion and watchful care. What I never could under 
 stand was why he should have demanded such a sacri 
 fice of them the loss of all local friends if they stood 
 discovered. Colonel, I want to see that letter. You 
 have it, have you not ?" 
 
 " I have, but it was confided to me with the con 
 dition that no one be allowed to see it except to save 
 his life. It has served its purpose and shall be restored 
 to her. I will send it by our doctor to-day. When 
 will he be here, boy ?" he asked. 
 
 " De doctor done gone, suh. Went las' night to de 
 odder camp an' ain't come back." 
 
 " Good God !" cried Westerlo, starting to his feet. 
 "Then he has gone there this morning and knows 
 nothing of the reprieve." 
 
 In less than an hour, despite his all-night ride, 
 mounted on a fresh horse, Frank Kearny was spurring 
 for the Gap in the desperate hope of reaching the 
 homestead before the fatal news. There was just 
 time, before his steed was ready, for him and Wes* 
 terlo to prepare despatches -one to go at once to 
 Colonel Graham, another to the senator from New 
 Jersey, and both were fervent appeals to remove Ar- 
 mistead from the custody of Van Duzen, and afford 
 him fair trial. There was no moment in which to see 
 the prisoner Kearny was galloping northward striv 
 ing to beat a rival that has downed the best horses 
 that ever ran.
 
 XXIY. 
 
 BAD news travels fast. Long before the major 
 could reach the western entrance to the pass the as 
 sistant surgeon had ridden along the eastern base of 
 the range from the camp of the cavalry outpost at 
 Thoroughfare, and in answer to an almost imperious 
 demand from Lucy had falteringly told her of the 
 discovery of " Tierney's " real name and identity, and 
 then was compelled to admit that the order had been 
 issued for his immediate execution. He expected an 
 outburst of womanish tears, possibly hysterics and 
 wild lamentations, but he could have spared himself 
 that anxiety. 
 
 " It is confirmation of my father's fears and mine," 
 she said. Her face was bloodless, her lips quivering 
 and almost bluish in hue, as though bitterly cold ; her 
 glorious eyes were tearless now, but dark circles had 
 formed about them, and their gaze was hard and stern. 
 "Monstrous and murderous as the decree may seem 
 to us, I presume it is useless to appeal to your com 
 mander for mercy," she presently continued. "You 
 are sure Colonel Westerlo had returned, and had seen 
 him ?" and for an instant there was almost piteous ap 
 peal in the look she gave him, and in the tones of her 
 voice.
 
 BETWEEN THE LINES. 247 
 
 "Yes, Miss Armistead, I grieve to say he was clos 
 eted with the old colonel a full hour before I carne 
 away, and we heard of no change in the order. Still, 
 I beg you not to abandon hope." 
 
 "Hope !" and a flush of indignation rose for a mo 
 ment to her wan cheek. " What have we to hope 
 from men like him ? At least, I presume, he will not 
 refuse me one last word with my brother, or if I come 
 too late for that, the poor privilege of bringing home 
 and burying here all that is left to us." 
 
 " I feel sure he would not ; but, forgive me, I f ear 
 it may be now too late." 
 
 "You do not mean you cannot mean that they 
 would have killed him already !" she exclaimed, with 
 horror in her face. " Oh, this is monstrous ! this is 
 worse than tyranny !" 
 
 "I hope not. I pray not," answered the doctor, 
 hastily. "But when I left it was the understanding 
 that it was to occur soon after sunrise, and if if you 
 were able to ride over " 
 
 "I will go instantly instantly. Meantime you 
 will stay with my father, will you not? Colonel 
 Westerlo gave me to hope that you could remain 
 here throughout the day." 
 
 "Depend upon me, Miss Armistead; I have duties 
 here with Captain Wise's detachment that will detain 
 me until the morrow, and I can spend most of the 
 time at your father's side. First, can I be of any aid 
 in getting your horse ? My orderly is here." 
 
 " No, no ! Come at once to father. Say nothing 
 to him of my going. Conceal from him, if you can,
 
 248 BETWEEN THE LINES. 
 
 the possibility of my brother's fate, and if he awake 
 and discover my absence and demand the reason, then 
 let him understand I have gone in hopes of saving 
 him. Father was awake all night, and has only with 
 in the hour fallen asleep exhausted." 
 
 "And you have a horse?" 
 
 " None ; but Colonel Westerlo left some instruc 
 tions with Captain Wise, and he will surely let me 
 have one. My habit and saddle are left ; our horses 
 were taken long ago." 
 
 And so, almost at the hour when Major Kearny set 
 forth from camp, Lucy Armistead, mounted on a spare 
 horse of Captain Wise's, and escorted by that gentle 
 man himself, rode westward up the pass, and was 
 soon across the range. Wise had been summoned 
 from his early breakfast by a message from the guard, 
 saying " the* young lady " wished to see him at once. 
 His half-hour's talk with Colonel Westerlo the pre 
 vious day had filled his soul with sympathy and sor 
 row for the unhappy occupants of the homestead, and 
 Miss Armistead's beauty had long since undermined 
 the soldier sternness with which he had entered upon 
 his duties. He obeyed her summons with alacrity, 
 but was aghast at sight of her white, quivering face 
 and trembling hands. She was exerting every effort 
 to preserve her self-control, but the struggle was 
 painfully apparent. In few words she told him al 
 most coldly of her brother's death-warrant, and begged 
 that she might have a horse to ride over into the val 
 ley and down to Van Duzen's headquarters. There 
 might be time for one last appeal, or for a few words
 
 BETWEEN THE LINES. 249 
 
 of farewell. Wise never hesitated a minute. Miss 
 Armistead should have the best horse in his squadron, 
 and he himself would escort her. Captain Wise added, 
 below his breath, " Court-martial be blowed ; I can't 
 stand this !" Miss Armistead assured him she needed 
 no escort ; but he knew better, and when she would 
 have declined it, he told her he was sorry to force his 
 company upon her, but as his orders were to allow 
 none of the inmates of the homestead to get beyond 
 his lines, he must make those lines as elastic as possi 
 ble by going with her himself. In twenty minutes 
 she was in her riding-habit and the saddle; had 
 printed one kiss upon her sleeping father's forehead, 
 breathed one brief prayer to God for divine protec 
 tion and guidance, and then rode past the pickets with 
 her cavalry escort at her horse's heels, the admiration 
 of every soldier of the guard. 
 
 They had not reached the village of Hopeville 
 when, thundering up the rocky road, his horse all 
 foam, there came suddenly into sight a horseman in 
 the Union blue. Miss Armistead had been urging the 
 pace at every practicable stretch of the winding pas 
 sage through the range, and her sad eyes were gaz 
 ing eagerly ahead as they turned a shoulder of the 
 heights to their left. She reined in, however, the mo 
 ment this solitary rider came in view, and if Wise had 
 not been looking at him instead of at her, he would 
 have noted how her pale cheek began to glow the in 
 stant the expression of her eyes changed from min 
 gled surprise, incredulity, and hope to undoubted re 
 lief and joy. The next instant the tall horseman had
 
 250 BETWEEN THE LINES. 
 
 trotted up, whirled his steed to the left about, and was 
 at her side, bowing with cavalier grace over the pom 
 mel of his saddle, and baring his close-cropped head 
 as he saluted her. "Wise, riding on her right, noted 
 the gold leaf on the cavalry strap, and made up his 
 mind that this could be no other than the Major 
 Kearny of whom he had heard so much. She had 
 turned away from her escort to greet the new-comer, 
 and her face was for the moment hidden from him ; 
 but the instant he heard her voice responding to the 
 major's salutation, the captain concluded it his duty 
 to fall back and give a word of instruction to the 
 brace of troopers who followed them. Before he could 
 carry out his intention, without being too abrupt, he 
 heard her almost breathless inquiry for Henry, and 
 Kearny's deep-toned answer : 
 
 "Reprieved and probably safe. Something told 
 me you would hear the contrary, and I came at once." 
 
 For a moment she could make no reply. She bent 
 forward over her horse's neck, covering her eyes with 
 her slender hand in its worn old riding-glove. Kearny 
 leaned towards her, his eyes yearning over her, his arm 
 half outstretched as though eager to catch and sup 
 port her should she sway or reel. No word was audi 
 bly spoken in the next minute, but Wise could see in 
 half a glance that Kearny's lips were moving, and that 
 he was murmuring something intended probably for 
 her ears alone. The three horses were ambling peace 
 fully abreast, glad of the chance of a breathing-spell, 
 and Wise glanced over his shoulder at the troopers in 
 the rear and concluded that now was his time. He
 
 BETWEEN THE LINES. 251 
 
 reined back, but she missed the click of the hoofs on 
 her right, rallied in an instant, and, brushing the tears 
 from her eyes, raised her head and called him. 
 
 " You gentlemen have not met before ?" she asked. 
 " Major Kearny, let me present Captain Wise, who 
 has been very, very kind to us to-day." 
 
 And Kearny drew back his panting steed, and ex 
 tended a gauntleted hand to the captain over the croup 
 of her horse. "Wise remembered the force of that grip 
 for weeks afterward. Again he would have retired 
 and yielded his place to his senior officer, but again it 
 was she who interposed. The road was wide enough 
 for three now that they were fairly out of the Gap, 
 and she would not hear of his going. Wise looked 
 uneasily at the major, but could read nothing in his 
 impassive face. Kearny plainly saw that, the first 
 emotion and excitement over, and her anxiety as to 
 Henry's fate measurably allayed, she was again mis 
 tress of herself and of the situation. She did not 
 mean to be alone with him to the exclusion of any 
 other man, and he was as proud as she. 
 
 He was worn and jaded from his all-night ride and 
 his hours of vigil and sleeplessness. He would give 
 her no hint of the pains and labor he had undergone 
 in Henry's behalf and on her account. He somewhat 
 bitterly said to himself it was a matter she would not 
 care to know, and he never dreamed, as he rode in 
 moody silence by her side, or spoke calmly and with 
 simulated cheerfulness of his confidence in her brother's 
 transfer from the hands of the fiery Van Duzen, that 
 down in the bottom of her sorrowing and tender heart
 
 252 BETWEEN" THE LINES. 
 
 she well knew he could not have been with the neigh 
 boring command on the previous day. Indeed, had 
 not Westerlo told them he was with his new regiment 
 en route to Washington ? and that in some way he 
 must have heard the news, and, like the knight he was, 
 had hastened to the rescue and then to her side? 
 Even in the anguish of her anxiety and dread there 
 was a joy in this consciousness against which she 
 strove in vain. What but love for her could have 
 brought him here here at her side ? Gratitude and 
 a sense of obligation might have hurried him forward 
 to Henry's prison, but he would have stopped there, 
 his work accomplished, had he not loved her and 
 longed to bring her the tidings of the reprieve. 
 
 And yet no sign of this would she let him see. Was 
 there not still another between them ? 
 
 Late that afternoon brother and sister were seated in 
 his guarded room, holding a few moments' converse 
 while the captain was making preparations for her re 
 turn. Not without difficulty had Westerlo and Kearny 
 succeeded in obtaining for her the privilege of spend 
 ing those intervening hours with the prisoner. " Old 
 Van" was already beginning to repent him of his 
 clemency, and to mourn what might be a lost oppor 
 tunity. He had read of Southern women who fur 
 nished lovers or brothers with means of escape. What 
 was to prevent her giving him poison with which to 
 cheat the government of its punishment of the spy? 
 Kearny clinched the matter and put an end to the 
 argument by saying that he gave his word of honor 
 that nothing of that kind would be attempted; and
 
 BETWEEN THE LINES. 253 
 
 when Van Duzen looked dubious, he added brief men 
 tion of one or two senatorial names, at which the Penn- 
 sylvanian surrendered. He was politician enough to 
 know the influence of the Kearnys and the New Jersey 
 delegation, and to yield gracefully in presence of such 
 odds. 
 
 At one hour of the day Westerlo and Kearny were 
 allowed to hold a consultation with the prisoner and 
 his sorrowing sister. Ostensibly it was to confer with 
 him as to his " last wishes," for, in the absence of in 
 structions to the contrary, Van Duzen had announced 
 that on the following day at sunset he must pay the 
 penalty of his crime against the laws of war. In reality 
 it was to comfort him and her with details of the rap 
 idly growing sentiment in the entire command against 
 his being regarded in any other light than that of an 
 ordinary prisoner of war. Westerlo had taken pains 
 to tell all over camp the story of Judge Armistead's 
 possibly fatal illness, and the gallant effort made by 
 his son to see him just once more. So, too, he had 
 told how they had shielded and succored Major Kear 
 ny, and the stories grew as they went from man to 
 man. By noon that day "the Reb" was decidedly 
 more popular in that particular camp than its com 
 manding officer, and there was talk of starting a 
 "round-robin" petition in behalf of the former. 
 Then, too, at any moment now despatches might 
 come from Colonel Graham or from Washington 
 setting Van Duzen's edict aside. Kearny had long 
 since sent a mounted man over to the military tele 
 graph station with additional despatches and with or-
 
 254 BETWEEN THE LINES. 
 
 ders to wait for replies, and he and Westerlo were in a 
 feverish state of anxiety. Armistead alone was calm 
 and composed. 
 
 At last it was time for her to go, for she felt that 
 she must be with her father overnight. Wise, of 
 course, had turned back one of his troopers at Hope- 
 ville to tell the doctor of the reprieve, but she well 
 knew the dread anxiety night would bring to the fail 
 ing old man. The officer of the guard and a sentry, 
 as required by their orders, still stood at the open 
 doorway of the prison-room, but the two field-officers 
 withdrew that the brother and sister might have a few 
 moments of whispered confidences. Her horse had 
 been resaddled, and now, with those of Captain Wise 
 and his orderly, was in readiness outside. Kearny's, 
 too, was being led up and down in front of Westerlo's 
 tent a short distance away. He had determined, despite 
 his fatigue, to ride to Hopeville and spend the night at 
 Wise's camp. It was a desire to see Judge Armistead 
 once more, and strive to be of service to him, that 
 would excuse this uninvited visit; but he longed inex 
 pressibly for a few words with her. This was no time, 
 he knew, to seek to undo her determination or to strive 
 to discover whether her heart as well as her hand was 
 pledged to this unknown rival. He had been strange 
 ly moved by what Westerlo let fall concerning Fal 
 coner. It was not possible that she, an Armistead, 
 could deeply love a man whose courage was ques 
 tioned, and whose name was mentioned with covert 
 sneer. These were matters on which he could not 
 speak to her, and yet what man who loved as he loved
 
 BETWEEN THE LINES. 255 
 
 would abandon hope so long as there was left one 
 tendril on which to cling? 
 
 And now 'twas full time they started, and old Wes- 
 terlo had tiptoed into the dark hallway and tapped at 
 the casing of the open door. None but he saw that 
 parting. It was still some minutes before he could 
 lead her away, and then, with bowed head and hidden 
 face and faltering step, she came forth leaning on his 
 strong arm. A group of a dozen officers stood not 
 far away. Beyond them had gathered a number of 
 the men; all curious, perhaps, but all silent and sym 
 pathetic. Some one of the former removed his forage 
 cap, and in a moment every man in both groups stood 
 uncovered. This was the Virginia girl who had saved 
 Major Kearny's life: It was reason enough. 
 
 Westerlo lifted her into the saddle. Wise reined 
 up on the other side. Kearny could be seen swing 
 ing astride his horse over at camp, and she was bend 
 ing down saying a few words of thanks and tearful 
 farewell to her stanch old friend, when there was a 
 buzz of voices out towards the Thoroughfare road and 
 the clatter of galloping hoofs. Kearny came trotting 
 eagerly down to meet the arriving messenger, who sud 
 denly darted into sight around a neighboring building 
 and almost rode over the major before he could check 
 his steed. 
 
 A joyous light flashed over the Jerseyman's face as 
 he read the brief words of the despatch thrust into his 
 hand, followed by a shade of disappointment. Quick 
 ly he rode to her side, and without a word handed her 
 the paper. This was what she read she cared noth-
 
 256 BETWEEN THE LINES. 
 
 ing for the address or signature she knew it must be 
 true: 
 
 " Orders by telegraph direct Colonel Van Duzen to 
 place the prisoner Armistead under your charge. You, 
 with sufficient escort, to bring him at once to Wash 
 ington."
 
 XXY. 
 
 MARCH and April have gone. So has Van Duzen's 
 camp at White Plains. Stirring times have those cav 
 alrymen been having on both sides of the Bull Run 
 range, but little of it, outside of " Old Van's " Congres 
 sional district, did the people hear. Matters of far 
 graver moment have been occurring farther south along 
 the Rappahannock. Chancellorsville has been turned 
 and lost. Stonewall Jackson has made his last tri 
 umphant attack in flank, and has led his enthusiastic 
 Virginians for the last time. May has brought sun 
 shine and cloudless skies and soft and perfumed 
 breezes to the once lovely valley in front of Hope- 
 ville Gap, but the roads are all dusty again with the 
 tramping hoofs of scouting dragoons, and all is wild 
 excitement and whispered confidences among the peo 
 ple who still occupy the homes and cottages of War- 
 renton and the villages to the north. June is here be 
 fore we realize it in the whirl of hurried raid and rapid 
 marching, and the war-clouds are sweeping up the Rap 
 pahannock, up the Hedgman River, and those tireless 
 horsemen of Stuart lead the van and clear the way. 
 Two strong divisions of blue jackets our old friends 
 
 of the New Jersey among them cross the stream 
 
 and boldly grapple the advancing columns, and at Bev- 
 17
 
 258 BETWEEN THE LINES. 
 
 erly Ford and Brandy Station the troopers of the 
 North and South clash in the first real cavalry battle 
 of the war. But within another week the dingy gray 
 jackets and plumed felt hats are riding jauntily as 
 ever up towards Luray, and through every pass, one 
 after another, the Union horse dash in to the attack. 
 And still they stay not. With the end of the second 
 week in June Lee's advance is far down the Shenan- 
 doah, and miles and miles ahead of the Army of the 
 Potomac on a race for the North. Another week, 
 and as the Union columns pass over the well-known 
 fields of the old battles, and trudge on up to Edwards 
 Ferry, what should that bold raider Stuart do but 
 double on his tracks, come back down the Luray Val 
 ley, camp once again around Salem and White Plains, 
 and then, cutting loose from the entire army of his 
 commander, circle completely around the rear of 
 Hooker's marching columns, cutting off trains and 
 stragglers at will, cross the broad river between 
 Washington and its defenders, and then go galloping 
 straight away for the Susquehanna. No wonder our 
 Union dragoons are kept " on the jump." No wonder 
 Major Kearny finds his hands full in handling his new 
 battalion. No wonder his heart turns with longing 
 and anxiety to the old homestead at Hopeville Gap, 
 and he prays for opportunity to ride over thither 
 and satisfy himself as to Lucy's safety. He has not 
 seen her; he has not heard one word from her since the 
 night she left Vail Duzen's camp to return to her fa 
 ther's bedside, while her brother remained his pris 
 oner.
 
 BETWEEN THE LINES. 259 
 
 He had faithfully carried out the instructions most 
 reluctantly transmitted to him late that night by the 
 irate and disappointed colonel. With an escort of a 
 dozen troopers he had conveyed his friend and cap 
 tive to the provost marshal's office at the capital. He 
 had had one long talk with him on the way, but not an 
 entirely satisfactory one. There was an odd constraint 
 in Armistead's manner which Kearny could not un 
 derstand or account for, and which the former did not 
 see fit to explain. They parted in Washington with 
 out removal of the veil, and the major went back to 
 his regiment sad at heart and more restless than ever. 
 
 One thing, however, he accomplished as a religious 
 duty. He Lost no time in acquainting the authorities 
 with Armistead's story, and in reminding them it was 
 to his people he owed his life. He found where Armis- 
 tead was to be confined, and wrote to his mother and, 
 other relatives in New Jersey, enjoining upon them 
 that they should do everything in their power to re 
 pay through him the obligation owed to the Armis- 
 tead family. The authorities offered to release the 
 captain on parole, and the captain refused it. All he 
 asked was that they should exchange him as soon as 
 possible, and permit him to rejoin his squadron under 
 Stuart. Kearny rode back to Virginia, and was pres 
 ently hurried out to the front and heard no more of 
 his prisoner for many a long day ; when he did, it was 
 to be informed in several letters that came all at once 
 that Captain Armistead had fretted himself into a 
 fever; that he had been and still was seriously ill; 
 that in his helpless condition the rules had been re-
 
 260 BETWEEN THE LINES. 
 
 laxed, and Mrs. Kearny and others had been permitted 
 to have almost exclusive care of him in a comfortable 
 room set apart for the purpose, and that he was now 
 on the mend. About the week before he rode into the 
 charge at Brandy Station, Major Kearny had other 
 letters. Armistead had almost regained his strength 
 after a long convalescence; and, "I once thought, 
 Frank," wrote his mother, " that something more than 
 a school-boy-and-girl affair was going to be the result 
 of your long association with Kate Paulding. Indeed, 
 I was almost certain she thought so too, but I am 
 bound to say that the present state of affairs is a puz 
 zle to me. For the first month of his incarceration 
 she seemed to avoid the possibility of going to see 
 him with me or with your sisters. Now the days are 
 few that do not find her ready to go and read to him 
 by the hour." 
 
 It was a piece of information at which Kearny 
 smiled. 
 
 But early in June there came a time when once 
 again the fortunes of war seemed bearing him towards 
 Hopeville. Despite the desperate fighting at Beverly 
 Ford, Stuart had pushed on northward, using the Bull 
 Run Mountains for his screen, and Kearny, with his 
 battalion, had been held guarding the trains of the ad 
 vancing Army of the Potomac. How he prayed for 
 release from this humdrum duty, and longed to be 
 with Gregg and Buford and Mclntosh in the columns 
 that had dashed off northward, along the familiar old 
 range, in pursuit of the wily raider !' Twice in person 
 and several times in hurried letters he appealed for re-
 
 BETWEEN THE LINES. 261 
 
 lief, and begged to be sent on to join the other com 
 mand, but it was useless. His new regiment was com 
 paratively undrilled, uninstructed, and the men had not 
 shown the steadiness and cohesion of the older troops in 
 the one day of desperate hand-to-hand fighting. The 
 general decreed that they with others in like predica 
 ment must stay and guard the trains, and Kearny per 
 force had to stay with them. Time and again he wished 
 himself back, a troop or squadron leader in the old regi 
 ment, but 'twas too late. Not until towards the 20th 
 of the beautiful month of June did he find his white- 
 topped charges slowly crawling into view of the Bull 
 Run range, and one day he wrung reluctant permis 
 sion from his senior to take half a dozen men and ride 
 over towards the gaps to inquire for his friends. It 
 was late in the afternoon when he trotted through the 
 well-remembered hamlet of Gainesville, and out on 
 the Thoroughfare Pike. It was nearly sunset when 
 he reached the Aldie road, and soon was plunged in 
 the shadows of the heavily timbered range. It was 
 twilight, and still as the grave, when he came in sight 
 of Hopeville Gap and the dim cross-country trail to 
 Sudley Springs. Far to the east the heights of Cen- 
 treville were still bathed in rosy light, and the white 
 walls gleamed in the last rays of the sun, invisible 
 to him by reason of the barrier at the west. He 
 remembered how Lucy's big Newfoundland used to 
 trot out on the red road in front of the hedge, and 
 challenge with deep-mouthed bark at the sound of 
 advancing hoof-beats; but here he was in sight of 
 the orchard and the heavy foliage of the old trees
 
 262 BETWEEN THE LINES. 
 
 about the house. Behind him his men were chatting 
 and laughing as they rode at ease, and still no sound 
 of life came from the homestead. Something like a 
 chill seemed to strike home to his heart; something 
 like dread presentiment overcame him. Unable to 
 bear the suspense, he spurred rapidly forward, and in 
 another moment was at the gateway, gazing with 
 straining eyes and choking breath upon a scene of 
 desolation. 
 
 There was the old piazza; there the tall brick chim 
 ney, still proof against wind or weather. There were 
 the broad steps and the dingy white urns and the 
 little squat pilasters of the blackened balustrade, but 
 all else was a gaping ruin. The dear old homestead 
 was gone. 
 
 For some moments the shock well-nigh unmanned 
 him, but the presence of his escort, chatting in low 
 tones, and speculating as to how and when and why 
 this destruction had occurred, restored him to himself. 
 Riding in on the ruined drive, he dismounted ; sent a 
 small party of his men up the pass to watch for pos 
 sible raiders from the western side of the range, where 
 Stuart was known to be in force, and then began a 
 sad search for anything that might give a clew to the 
 mystery. When could this have happened ? How 
 did it take place? What had become of her and her 
 father? These were the questions that were upper 
 most in his mind. 
 
 The roof of the old portico was gone with the rest 
 of the house, but the floor and the big white columns 
 still stood. They were protected by the stone wall
 
 BETWEEN THE LINES. 263 
 
 which formed the basement, though the columns were 
 charred and blistered on the inner side. Within the 
 rectangle formed by these stone basement walls was 
 one yawning pit half filled with heaped and blackened 
 timbers. Over in the northwest corner where was 
 Aunt Bell's domain the kitchen were the remains 
 of the big stove which she was wont to keep in such 
 glistening coat of polish. Beyond that the trellis-work 
 and the low fruit-trees among which the sentry paced 
 the night old ISTelse found him " so busy " he " didn't 
 like to disturb him " and so slipped out unseen. Be 
 yond these the now abandoned henhouse and the 
 gaping doorways of the old barn; but nowhere was 
 there sign of life of any kind. Busy, scratching hens, 
 neighing steeds, lounging troopers, watchful old house 
 dog, Nelse with his limping gait, Aunt Bell with her 
 cheery black face, Hannah with her alert, intelligent, 
 eager eyes; the patient, sad- featured old father all 
 were gone, and with them the girl he so fondly and 
 faithfully loved. 
 
 Late that evening, heart-sick, and weighed down 
 with anxiety, he was pushing eastward again to restore 
 his escort to the command. With Stuart's troopers 
 just across the range and likely to come through at 
 any moment, it was no place to spend the night. 
 Alone, he would gladly have remained until some 
 tidings could be gained, but he was responsible for 
 the safety of his little party, and stern duty demanded 
 his prompt return. With an entire army straining 
 every nerve to reach the Potomac and check a dan 
 gerous invasion, it was indeed
 
 264 BETWEEN" THE LINES. 
 
 " No time for love or sighing," 
 and though it well-nigh tore his heart, he had to 
 
 go- 
 Splashing through the shallow waters of the Cathar- 
 pin, his escort aroused some sleepy watchers on the 
 eastern bank, and sharp challenge greeted him. A 
 patrol thrown out along the left flank of the army had 
 halted for the double purpose of resting their horses 
 and guarding the road to the Gap. The men were 
 springing to horse as Kearny answered, and it was 
 with difficulty he could persuade their commander that 
 he and his were friends. A moment's parley, however, 
 satisfied them as to his identity, and then the two offi 
 cers dismounted for brief consultation. 
 
 " We were going to venture out early in the morn 
 ing, and go as far as the Armistead place in the Gap,'* 
 said the lieutenant, presently, " but some negroes in 
 an old cabin here told us it was burned down six weeks 
 ago." 
 
 " Where are they ?" asked Kearny, with sudden 
 interest. 
 
 " Just in the woods there at the edge of the clear 
 ing. One of them lived at the place." 
 
 A dim light was burning in among the trees. Thith 
 er strode the major, his heart thumping in his breast. 
 In answer to his resounding knock the door was slowly 
 opened, and a venerable kinky head peered forth. 
 
 " Nelse ! old man ! Don't you know me ?" was the 
 instant exclamation. 
 
 " Oh, my lawd ! Mars'r Kearny !" cried the negro, 
 in reply, and then tears and sobs choked his utterance.
 
 BETWEEN THE LINES. 265 
 
 The poor old fellow broke completely down, and, cling 
 ing to Kearny's outstretched hand, wept like a little 
 child. 
 
 It was some time before he could tell his sad story. 
 Dr. Loring had been restored to his friends and pa 
 tients soon after Colonel Graham returned and relieved 
 Van Duzen, but he came too late. Day by day the 
 judge seemed to sink lower and lower. The cavalry 
 were withdrawn, falling back to Fairfax again, and 
 the Rangers reappeared. Even the sight of the Con 
 federate gray failed to rally the broken old man, and 
 one stormy night, just before they heard the news of 
 Chancellorsville, he passed quietly away. They buried 
 him in the little church-yard down at Warrenton by 
 the side of his wife, and thither Dr. Loring had escorted 
 Lucy and Hannah, leaving old Nelse with Aunt Bell 
 to take care of the homestead. One night, soon after 
 they took the judge's remains away, there came a dozen 
 men on horseback. Some were in uniform, some were 
 not, and they ransacked the house and drank up all 
 the store of "apple-jack" that was left, and drove 
 him and Aunt Bell out into the fields, and swore it 
 was the last time that place should ever shelter a Yan 
 kee, and then they burned it to the ground. Did he 
 know where Miss Lucy was now ? No, only that she 
 was with Dr. Loring's family either at Warrenton or 
 perhaps Salem again. Did he know any of the men 
 who fired the house ? Only one of them the gentle 
 man that came to see the major with the officers once 
 Mars'r Tierney.
 
 XXYI. 
 
 " No time for love or sighing," indeed ! " On to 
 the Potomac !" " On to threatened Pennsylvania !" 
 were the watchwords. Though his sore heart clung 
 to Virginia, duty and honor called Frank Kearny to 
 his post in the marching column. There was only 
 time to sit him down by the flickering light of the 
 camp-fire, and on scraps torn from his pocket-diary 
 to write her a hurried letter full of sympathy, sorrow, 
 and wordless devotion. Of his love and constancy he 
 made no mention, but no woman could fail to read 
 their presence in every line. Thrusting in old Nelse's 
 brown palm a roll of treasury notes, at sight of which 
 the eyes of the recipient nearly bulged from their 
 sockets, Kearny bade the negro reward his fellows for 
 the shelter they had afforded Aunt Bell and himself, 
 to keep the bulk of the money for his support and 
 hers until the major should come again, but to fail not 
 in setting forth with the rising sun and to bear that 
 letter to Miss Armistead, even if he had to follow her 
 to Richmond ; and Nelse promised faithfully to obey. 
 Then, measurably comforted, Kearny roused his sleepy 
 escort, and, bidding good-night to the officer com 
 manding the patrol, rode away eastward in search of 
 his trains.
 
 BETWEEN THE LINES. 267 
 
 Who has forgotten the days that followed the 
 breathless hush of anxiety and suspense, the rueful 
 stories of invasion and disaster, the loud alarum in 
 the valley of the Susquehanna, the thrill of dread in 
 Washington and Philadelphia, the excitement and al 
 most defiant rejoicing in Baltimore, the flaming skies 
 above Columbia and Carlisle, the plumed squadrons 
 of Stuart's raiders whisking past the outlying pickets 
 of the national capital, sabring their way into the thick 
 of the Union trains, and then trotting jauntily through 
 the very streets of York, the dusty skirmishers of grim 
 old one-legged Ewell scaring the whole country-side 
 into refuge at Harrisburg ? All over the astonished 
 North consternation and dismay. All through the 
 Army of the Potomac the thrilling sense that now at 
 last their turn had come ; that now, at least, it must 
 be do or die. 
 
 Far in rear of the marching columns when he reached 
 the Potomac, still chained to the hateful task of guard 
 ing trains, Major Kearny heard with eager delight 
 that a sudden change had been effected in the organi 
 zation of the cavalry. A foreign officer who had long 
 commanded the scattered division to which he belonged 
 had been relieved at Frederick, a new leader placed 
 at its head ; and now, under men like Buford, Gregg, 
 Merritt, Ouster, and Farnsworth, the troopers of the 
 Army of the Potomac, in three strong divisions, were 
 scouring the country in front of the trudging infantry. 
 Beyond question they would be the first to grapple 
 with the foe, and Kearny was about the last man in 
 the array who could rest content with the duty as-
 
 268 BETWEEN THE LINES. 
 
 signed him. No sooner was he north of the stream 
 than he intrusted to the care of a staff -officer hurrying 
 to the front an earnest appeal to the commander of 
 the cavalry corps to be allowed to come forward in 
 any capacity whatever, and in a few days the wel 
 come order reached him, " Report for immediate duty 
 to the general commanding the second cavalry division 
 now marching on Hanover." With eagerness unspeak 
 able he turned over his battalion to the senior captain, 
 and pushed on that very night. 
 
 And so it happened that once again he greeted his 
 comrades of the old regiment. He found them hag 
 gard, dusty, worn with ceaseless marching and sleep 
 less nights, cruelly thinned in numbers, but " still 
 there," and Dayton with them. There, too, grimy 
 with dust, like their comrades, was the regiment in 
 which Mullane had lived his brief and inglorious year ; 
 but with him had disappeared the faction of which he 
 was the acknowledged leader and exponent. A dozen 
 officers from its ranks spurred forward to greet and 
 welcome the new-comer who sat in saddle in rear of 
 the long skirmish line of dismounted Jersey men, shak 
 ing hands with captains and lieutenants by the dozen. 
 The whole brigade seemed to feel that it must do its 
 best to show Major Kearny the pleasure his coming 
 afforded every man. They all knew how he had never 
 ceased his importunities to be sent to the front until 
 the order was granted, and here he was just in time 
 for Gettysburg. 
 
 Two anxious days had passed since Buford, far over 
 on the left, had discovered the advancing infantry of
 
 BETWEEN THE LINES. 269 
 
 Pettigrew and Archer, and, true to his instincts, had 
 rushed straight at the throat of his foe and striven 
 to hold and pin him there, west of the Lutheran 
 Seminary, until the Army of the Potomac could 
 come up and man that priceless ridge below the 
 quaint old Pennsylvania town. Now the morning of 
 the 3d had come the climax of it all. In vain had 
 Ewell forced his columns Jackson's old men to the 
 assault of the bowlder-strewn slopes of Gulp's Hill. 
 In vain had Hood's Texans hurled their charging lines 
 on the Round Tops at the southern flank. The Union 
 ranks had reeled and staggered under the repeated on 
 sets ; the Union colors had been steadily beaten back 
 from the Pike and that famous peach-orchard at the 
 angle of Sickles's front ; but all the crest of Cemetery 
 Ridge was crowned with black-mouthed batteries and 
 panting but determined battalions in the grimy blue ; 
 all the curving, wooded slopes at the north were 
 watched by keen - eyed Northern riflemen ; all the 
 broad plateau to the eastward, far over as Westmin 
 ster, was powdered with the dust of tramping columns, 
 and glistening with sunshine reflected from the canvas 
 covers of countless wagons. Here, too, were parked 
 the reserve batteries ; here, too, the ammunition trains 
 and the scores of ambulances ; and all the beautiful 
 undulating, fertile farm-land between them and the 
 north lay open to the advance of hostile cavalry but 
 for the covering skirmish lines of the Second Division ; 
 
 and of these the old New Jersey was farthest to 
 
 the front, crouching along the rail-fence by the road 
 side and watching with eager eyes the fringe of wood
 
 270 BETWEEN THE LINES. 
 
 on yonder opposite slope. " Stuart is back !" " Stu 
 art has rejoined Lee !" These were the words that 
 passed from mouth to mouth that gorgeous July morn 
 ing. Now look out for squalls ! Just at noon, when 
 men and horses were gazing longingly at the forest 
 shades along the ridges, and seeking shelter from the 
 fierce rays of the July sun, there came the staff-officer 
 galloping over from Meade's headquarters with the 
 stirring message, " Look well to your front ! Howard 
 reports that he can see from Cemetery Hill great 
 masses of cavalry marching out north of you. They 
 must be forming behind those ridges now." 
 
 All the long, hot morning has been spent in com 
 parative quiet. Ouster and his "Wolverines" have 
 scouted all the roads for a mile or more above the 
 Hanover Pike. There are skirmishers in gray out 
 beyond Wolf Hill, where Mclntosh and his dragoons 
 joined the extreme right of Howard's corps. There 
 are little scouting parties of Confederate horse twink 
 ling through the woods and farm enclosures up tow 
 ards the York road. But just at one o'clock Custer 
 with his fine brigade has started away under orders 
 to march to the Round Tops across that intervening 
 plateau whereon are all those dust -covered reserve 
 batteries, ammunition wagons, and trains. He moves 
 reluctantly, and with a shake of his curly head and a 
 lingering glance over his shoulder at the wooded crest 
 behind those substantial farm-buildings a mile away 
 northward across the open fields. " You may be at 
 tacked any minute," he says to the brigade com 
 mander. " Those woods are full of 'em by this time."
 
 BETWEEN THE LINES. 271 
 
 And now, just as Kearny is shaking hands with his 
 comrades, there bursts upon the startled ear the roar 
 of the fierce cannonade that ushers in the afternoon of 
 the 3d 'of July a roar that speedily swells into the 
 deafening thunder of the most stupendous duel of 
 batteries ever heard on this continent. It is the two 
 hours' prelude to Pickett's memorable and heroic as 
 sault, and for a few minutes the cavalry out on the dis 
 tant flank can only look on and listen, awed by the 
 magnificence of the sight and sound. The western 
 edge of the plateau, three miles or more away, is pres 
 ently shrouded in a cloud of sulphur smoke which, per 
 petually being rent and torn by flashing shells, closes 
 promptly over the gaps and only gains in density. 
 Then comes the call to action on the right. "Skir 
 mishers forward !" ring the trumpets, and Dayton clasps 
 for an instant Kearny 's hand, then draws his sabre and 
 gallops over to his advancing squadron. The briga 
 dier has determined not to await attack, but to see for 
 himself what is to be found along those forest-fringed 
 heights across the level field. Whoever occupies them 
 commands a view of the country for miles to the south 
 and takes " in reverse " the line of battle of the Army 
 of the Potomac and its parks of reserve batteries and 
 supplies. What if Stuart should already be there? 
 What if even now, screened by those woods, he is 
 forming his charging columns and preparing to come 
 sweeping down on these slender lines, brush them to 
 either side, and then go careering madly on, playing 
 havoc among those defenceless trains ? Who can 
 doubt the effect of such a dash when coupled with the
 
 272 BETWEEN THE LINES. 
 
 grand assault now beginning from the west? Who 
 can say where ruin and disaster will be checked should 
 this indeed prove to be his plan? 
 
 Kearny has ridden back towards the Pike to rejoin 
 the division commander, who comes spurring up with 
 an anxious look o'erspreading his soldierly, bearded 
 face. Together they rein in on a little knoll at the 
 southeastern angle. Behind them in the highway Pen- 
 nington's rifled guns are still unlimbered, for Custer's 
 column is not yet clear of the field, and he does not 
 move until his cavalry comrades are all on their way. 
 In front is Chester's section, the cannoneers lying or 
 squatting about the guns, the drivers dismounted and 
 resting near their drooping horses. To the left, drawn 
 up in close column of squadrons, are battalions of 
 Union horse almost grilling under the blazing sun 
 shine ; but the eyes of all men follow the movements 
 of that long skirmish line swinging boldly out across 
 the farm fields towards those solid-looking buildings of 
 the thriving Pennsylvania husbandman. " liummel's 
 barn " becomes the object of an interest it never knew 
 before. 
 
 Suddenly up from the earth spring the men at the 
 guns. A murmur of excitement flies along the mounted 
 ranks. " Look at 'em !" " Yonder they come !" are 
 the cries, and all in an instant, out from behind the 
 farm buildings, out from the big, substantial barn, run 
 ning into line, agile as monkeys, come scores of skir 
 mishers in gray rushing for the low stone wall. In an 
 instant both lines have opened fire, and the cavalry 
 combat at the right flank has begun.
 
 BETWEEN THE LINES. 273 
 
 " Ha, I thought so !" exclaims the general. " Look 
 at the gund ! Stuart himself, as a matter of course." 
 And out on the heights in the rear of the farm build 
 ings those coveted heights from which the whole field 
 can be so plainly seen two horse batteries trot briskly 
 into view from the leafy shelter in which they have 
 been lurking, and in an instant are whirling around 
 into position. Before a shot can be rammed home, 
 Chester and Pennington have saluted the new-comers, 
 and with spiteful shriek the shells go whizzing over 
 the heads of the intervening skirmishers, and the bat 
 teries have joined in the general uproar. Just about 
 the time when the Union guns along Cemetery Ridge 
 are cooling down for the reception of the assault so 
 surely coming, far out here on the right flank their 
 comrades with the cavalry brigades have taken up the 
 chorus, and in a moment every gun is in full song. 
 The Rummel barn is jetting fire-flash and smoke ; it 
 is packed with sharpshooters, before whose sheltered 
 aim many a gallant fellow of the Jersey regiment is 
 going down. Kearny feels a sudden sense of keen 
 anxiety for Dayton, and longs to be allowed to dash 
 out to the front, but his general knows a more effective 
 plan. A word to the young officer commanding the 
 advanced guns and the muzzles are depressed, the trails 
 whipped suddenly to a slight change of direction, and 
 in the next instant the shells are bursting under the 
 barn roof itself, ripping and tearing the brittle wood 
 work, firing the hay-stacks, and emptying it of its hu 
 man contents in the twinkling of an eye. The whole 
 brigade sets up a cheer and laugh as the discomfited 
 18
 
 274 BETWEEN THE LINES. 
 
 sharpshooters come tumbling out and, bending almost 
 double, scurry for the shelter of the low stone wall. 
 Another and a louder cheer bursts forth when, with a 
 blare of trumpets, Ouster, "ever ready for a fight," 
 comes galloping back at the head of his gallant Michi 
 gan brigade and ploys his excited troopers into close 
 column of squadrons, ready for anything as their sa 
 bres flash in air. One regiment he hurriedly orders 
 in dismounted to cover the left of his column ; an 
 other to aid the thinned and bleeding rank of Jersey- 
 men ; a third, in saddle, dashes for the stone wall 
 along the little stream at the western edge, just in 
 time to meet there the flower of Virginia's cavalry 
 and be borne back in the rush. There are ten minutes 
 of wild excitement and stirring battle-cries ten min 
 utes of rally and countercharge, in which the Virgin 
 ians in turn are outnumbered and hurled back. A 
 brief breathing-spell for the horsemen while the gun 
 ners concentrate their fire on the batteries on the Cress 
 ridge, and then then comes the glorious episode of a 
 never-to-be-forgotten day. 
 
 Just as Pickett's devoted lines are breasting the 
 slopes for the final and desperate attempt to pierce 
 the Union centre, Cavalier Stuart, with all his chiv 
 alry at his back six thousand glittering sabres at his 
 beck and call darts in to carry out his share of the 
 well-planned combination. Watching from his leafy 
 covert at the summit back of Rummel's house, he hears 
 the signal guns of the Washington Artillery far across 
 the plateau ; he notes the mass of trains and wagons 
 down towards the south, shielded only by that thinned,
 
 BETWEEN THE LINES. 275 
 
 and travel -worn division drawn up in front of the 
 Hanover Pike. The time to strike has come, and, like 
 poised falcon, his compact columns wait ready for the 
 swoop. Behind him, in the open fields of the Stal- 
 smith farm, are the brigades of Hampton and Fitz- 
 Hugh Lee. No leader on earth need seek for braver 
 men or keener riders. There they sit in saddle, eager 
 for the word eager for their great part in the drama 
 of the day and now it comes. 
 
 Kearny has just galloped back to his general's side, 
 his eyes flashing with excitement, the sweat pouring 
 down from his forehead, panting with his exertions in 
 rallying the scattered troopers on the left. Another 
 regiment of the Michigan brigade has just trotted into 
 close column under Ouster's eye. The Jerseymen and 
 Pennsylvanians are slowly retiring, with emptied car 
 tridge-boxes, to where their horses await them in the 
 woods by the " Low Dutch " road at the eastern verge, 
 leaving the " Wolverines " to oppose the gray skir 
 mishers along the little stream and among the farm 
 buildings at Rummel's, when, at the very northern 
 edge of the open fields just at a gap in the forest- 
 covered ridge there rides into view a pageant at sight 
 of which a murmur of admiration bursts from the Un 
 ion ranks. Sweeping out upon the gentle slope, with 
 fluttering guidons and waving plumes overhead, with 
 sabres at the carry glistening in the unclouded sun 
 shine, moving with stately ease and deliberation, form 
 ing squadron front as soon as the columns clear the 
 gap and reach the broad expanse beyond, then clos 
 ing in mass as they steadily advance, side by side come
 
 276 BETWEEN THE LINES. 
 
 the famous troopers of Wade Hampton and Fitz-Hugh 
 Lee. Here are the men who have borne the flags of 
 the Carolinas and Virginia to the very borders of the 
 Susquehanna, and made them famous on a score of 
 fields. Here are the raiders who have followed Stu 
 art in many a dash around our jaded flanks and rear. 
 Watch them as squadron after squadron gains its 
 front and distance at the trot. Mark the steadiness 
 and precision of every move. Note that slow, stately 
 half -wheel to their right as they descend the slope. 
 That means they are coming square at Chester's guns, 
 now just one mile away. 
 
 See the rush and scurry among the dismounted skir 
 mishers midway up the field ! Out of the way with 
 you, lads ! Run for your horses, every man of you ! 
 Never heed those peppering riflemen in the barn-yard 
 now. Here come foemen worthy of your steel, and all 
 the Union cavalry is athrill with excitement and en 
 thusiasm. "Mount ! mount !" are the shouted orders. 
 "Steady, now, men !" the caution from many a squad 
 ron leader as the very horses seem to plunge and tug 
 at the bits as though eager for the fray. Look at Cus- 
 ter, his curls floating in the rising breeze, his eyes kin 
 dling like coals of fire, his sinewy hand gripping the 
 sabre-hilt, trotting up and down in front of his heart- 
 throbbing lines giving quick, terse words of instruc 
 tion and warning. Bang ! bang ! go Chester's guns, 
 sending their whirring compliments to the massive 
 gray columns still placidly advancing at the walk ; and 
 a cheer of exultation, not unmingled with low mur 
 murs of soldierly pity, greets the sight of the explod-
 
 BETWEEN THE LINES. 277 
 
 ing shells square in the midst of the beautiful division. 
 But not one whit do they swerve or slacken. On still 
 steadily they come, and now the field in front is cleared ; 
 and now all the guns are hurling shell and case-shot ; 
 and now the slow, stately advance becomes suddenly 
 shimmering and tremulous to the eye ; it only means 
 that the pace has been quickened to the trot. A quar 
 ter mile at that gait, another at the gallop, and they 
 will be here. 
 
 Now for our side ! " Meet them, Mclntosh ! Meet 
 them, Ouster !" are the general's quick orders ; " but 
 let them get well down this way. Do not charge un 
 til they are in line with the woods; then we've got 
 'em on both flanks, too." Capital plan that. Lining 
 the fence by the roadside on the east are hundreds of 
 kneeling troopers ready to open fire as the columns 
 come sweeping by. Over on the west side, too, along 
 the little run, are other skirmishers all ready for the 
 coming host. Possibly Stuart does not see this pos 
 sibly does not care. Heedless of bursting shell and 
 hissing lead ; silent, stern, inflexible, in exquisite order 
 and perfect alignment, the Southern horse sweep grand 
 ly down the field. " Keep to your sabres, men !" is 
 the order passed from rank to rank. Brandy Station, 
 Aldie, and Upperville have taught them the lesson 
 that the revolver is no weapon to cope with the blade 
 wielded by brawny Northern arms. On they come, 
 the ground trembling and rumbling under the quick 
 ening tread of these thousands of hoofs. Listen ! "The 
 gallop !" Now, Michigan! Now, New York and Penn 
 sylvania! tighten your sabre-knots; take good grip;
 
 278 BETWEEN THE LINES. 
 
 touch boot to the centre; keep your dress; eyes straight 
 to the front, and forward ! 
 
 "Major Kearny, gallop round to the New Jer 
 sey. Mount every man you can find, and order a charge 
 on their left flank the instant we check them here ! 
 Give 'em canister now, Mr. Chester !" These are the 
 last orders Kearny gets from his general this day of 
 days. Putting spurs to his horse, he darts around the 
 rear of Chester's guns just as " the advance " is ring 
 ing from the trumpets ; clears the front of the squad 
 rons issuing from the woods at rapid trot, and, glanc 
 ing over his shoulder, sees the rush of the " Wolver 
 ines" up the field; sees Custer, four lengths ahead, 
 darting straight at the plunging host in gray ; hears 
 the sudden burst of terrific yells with which the men 
 of Stuart welcome the signal " Charge !" hears the 
 fearful crash with which the heads of columns come 
 together ; marks the sudden silence of the cannon, 
 useless now when friend and foe are mingled in 
 death-grapple at the front, and with a din of savage 
 war-cries, orders, shouts, shots, clashing sabres, and 
 crunching hoofs ringing in his ears, he speeds on his 
 way to the fence and the wood road, wild with eager 
 ness to rally his old comrades and lead them in. 
 
 Back among the trees to the right, whither the led 
 horses had been conducted out of range, " thereis mount 
 ing in hot haste," and thither gallops the young major, 
 flashing bis sabre in air, and calling to his old com 
 rades to form their line. Rapidly he rides along the 
 fence. " Mount, men, mount ! Quick, Dayton ! Quick, 
 Hart !" he shouts. " Form your men, and get in here
 
 BETWEEN THE LINES. 279 
 
 on the edge of the field !" But all along that fragile 
 barrier are scores of troopers, kneeling or lying prone, 
 blazing away at the dense, dust-covered, struggling 
 mass of gray horsemen only three hundred yards away; 
 and in the thunderous din no voice is audible beyond 
 a rod or two. Dayton spurs up and down in the road 
 way until he has driven a dozen men back in search 
 of their steeds. Hart gallops southward to where his 
 squadron, mounted, is guarding the led horses in among 
 the trees. Half a dozen Pennsylvanians, officers and 
 men, come trotting up to Kearny, eager to be " count 
 ed in " if there is to be a charge ; other troopers tear 
 down a panel or two of fence, that the forming squad 
 rons may get in from the dusty road. Out in the 
 broad fallow field the uproar of the fierce combat 
 swells and rages, and though the long, compact col 
 umns are still pushing on, the headlong speed of the 
 charge is gone, the leading squadrons are swallowed 
 up in cheering clouds of swordsmen dressed in the 
 Union blue. The Southern leaders are hewing their 
 way, fighting like tigers and yelling command and 
 encouragement to their men, but those " Wolverines " 
 of Ouster have barred the path ; scores of troopers 
 from all over the field are bearing down on front 
 and flanks ; Chester's guns have torn fearful rents in 
 their now beleaguered column ; hundreds of steeds are 
 rolling in agony on the turf, and hundreds of riders 
 are bleeding and thrown. Eager troopers dash from 
 their places in the rearward lines and rush yelling to 
 join the combat at the front. Hampton's battle-flag 
 is waved on high and spurred through the mass of
 
 280 BETWEEN THE LINES. 
 
 swaying chargers to animate the Carolinians to renewed 
 effort ; but it is all practically unavailing ; the impe 
 tus of the attack is done, and now, though outnum 
 bering the horsemen swarming upon them from every 
 side, Lee and Hampton are almost helpless. Relying 
 on dash, weight, and inertia to sweep everything be 
 fore them, the Southern leaders have failed to provide 
 for just this possibility. Now their gallant men are 
 jammed together in one great, surging mass ; only 
 those on the flanks or front can use sabre or pistol ; 
 the rest are useless as so many sheep. In vain their 
 officers shout hoarse commands to open out, to cut 
 their way to right or left. From east and west every 
 instant fresh parties of Union horse come dashing in 
 with new shock and impetus, hurling men from the 
 saddle, adding to the clamor and confusion, utterly 
 blocking every attempt of the gray troopers to wheel 
 outward and hew a path to the relief of their strug 
 gling comrades in the foremost lines. Kearny notes 
 it all with mad exultation ; Dayton's half - score of 
 men and the Pennsylvania troopers are hurriedly 
 ranging themselves in rank, when through the dust- 
 cloud they catch sight of that battle-flag of Hamp 
 ton's struggling forward in the midst of the Confed 
 erate column. " There's our point !" he shouts as, with 
 flashing eyes, he turns to the little troop. " Come on, 
 men !" And, with Dayton at his side and the cheer 
 ing line of horsemen at his back, down he goes in 
 headlong dash upon the surging flank. Another in 
 stant and, with crash and shock that hurls many a 
 rider from the saddle among the grinding hoofs be-
 
 BETWEEN THE LINES. 281 
 
 low and overthrows a dozen plunging steeds, Kearny 
 and his swordsmen are hewing their way into the very 
 heart of Hampton's legion and making straight for the 
 flag. There is a moment of fierce, thrilling battle, of 
 vehement struggling, of yells and curses and resound 
 ing blows and clashing steel and sputtering pistol- 
 shots ; a moment of mad excitement wherein he sees, 
 but for a second of time, bearded, grimy, sweat-cov 
 ered faces, lit up with battle-fire, that live in his mem 
 ory for years ; a moment when every sense seems in 
 tensified and every nerve and sinew braced to fivefold 
 force, and in the midst of it all, just as he spurs his 
 charger to the standard-bearer's side and his sabre is 
 raised to cut him down, and all around him is one wild 
 yell and clamor, there springs between him and his prize 
 a face and form he well remembers ; a bearded knight 
 in gray and gold, whose gleaming steel dashes to one 
 side the blow he aims at the standard-bearer's skull, 
 and before he can parry in return has gashed his cheek 
 from ear to chin. Kearny reels from the force of the 
 blow, but firmly keeps his seat ; and though he is half 
 stunned, his practised hand whirls his blade to the point, 
 and sends it straight at the bared and brawny throat 
 before him. An agile twist is all that saves the jugular; 
 but it is a well-nigh fatal move, unbalancing the horse 
 man just as he is struck in flank by a stalwart sergeant 
 of Kearny's little troop, and down he goes, horse and 
 rider crashing to earth in the centre of the struggling 
 mass. Almost at this supreme moment, too, Kearny's 
 buzzing ears are conscious of a tremendous cheer and 
 thundering shock behind him. He hears Dayton's ex-
 
 282 BETWEEN THE LINES. 
 
 ultant yell of welcome to Hart and his charging squad 
 ron, and then he hardly knows what happens. He 
 feels that the crowded mass about him is disintegrat 
 ing, slipping away, edging back up the field. He finds 
 that he is borne helplessly with them. He is dizzy, 
 faint, bleeding, and exhausted, and can only drift 
 along ; and he hardly knows how to account for it 
 when, a few minutes later, he is leaning, breathless, 
 against the shoulder of his panting horse, and Day 
 ton, panting too, is at his side bathing and bandaging 
 his mutilated face. 
 
 " Have we driven them?" he gasps. 
 
 "Driven them? Look!" is the answer as Dayton 
 points exultingly up the field. A cloud of dust is 
 settling back to earth, shrouding many a group of 
 prostrate, stiffening, or struggling men and horses ; 
 but, surging up the slopes down which they swept so 
 gallantly but a little time before, goes a disordered 
 mass of fugitives, with Ouster and Mclntosh, Michi 
 gan, Pennsylvania, and Jersey cheering, hacking, hew 
 ing at their backs. The great cavalry fight is over, 
 and Stuart is foiled. Even as Pickett's torn and 
 cruelly shattered lines are drifting back from the as 
 sault on Hancock's stubborn front, their daring breth 
 ren were breaking before the sabres of Gregg's divis 
 ion they had been sacrificed in a vain attempt. 
 
 That night, late, Frank Kearny is seated with band 
 aged face by the bedside of the man whose sabre dealt 
 the blow. Stunned and bleeding, Wayne Falconer 
 had been dragged from under his dying horse and 
 carried, just after the return of the troopers from their
 
 BETWEEN THE LINES. 283 
 
 successful pursuit, to the lines of Jersey battalions ; 
 and men wondered why on earth Major Kearny should 
 insist on giving to the Confederate officer the rude cot 
 they had brought from Lott's farmhouse for him. 
 Not only that, but he would not rest until he had 
 found a surgeon who could spare a moment in which 
 to attend the suffering man thus thrown a second time 
 a prisoner in his hands. Thanks to both of them, and 
 to Dayton, too, Captain Falconer is so much better 
 by the hour the trumpets are pealing tattoo that he is 
 propped up on his rough pillow of overcoat and blan 
 kets and enjoying a bite of something to eat the first 
 he has had for twenty-four hours and a big tin cup 
 of coffee the first he has tasted since they raided the 
 trains down by Rockville. Then he grows communi 
 cative. 
 
 " Whom do you suppose we had the pleasure of 
 hanging just before we crossed the Potomac ?" he 
 asks the major, for Kearny had been speaking of the 
 destruction of the Armistead homestead. 
 
 " Tierney, I hope," suggests Captain Dayton. 
 
 " Tierney it was," is the reply. " As thorough 
 paced a villain as we ever had to deal with. It was 
 he who really got Henry Armistead into that awk 
 ward scrape. It was he who succeeded in clouding 
 your name with a charge of murder, so we heard, Ma 
 jor Kearny. And he bragged prodigiously when he 
 first got back to us of having shot the captain in a 
 duel. He told a whining story of self-defence after 
 wards. Stuart found out his double-dealing and had 
 him kicked out of camp. Then he joined some guer-
 
 284 BETWEEN THE LINES. 
 
 illas, and out of sheer drunken wantonness burned the 
 old homestead. Then he was caught at Leesburg in 
 some more dirty work, and the next thing I heard he 
 was strung up in front of the house he had robbed." 
 
 " I may as well tell those fellows of Mullane's old 
 regiment, Kearny," says Dayton, after a moment's 
 silence. " It will interest them to know the fellow- 
 confessed to the shooting." 
 
 But Kearny makes no reply. His heart is dwelling 
 on a far different matter. 
 
 " You knew the Armisteads well, did you not ?" he 
 presently asks his captive guest. 
 
 " Yes. Our people have been their friends and 
 neighbors for three generations." 
 
 " Can you form any idea where Miss Armistead has 
 gone, or whether she has remained under Dr. Loring's 
 care ?" 
 
 " Indeed I cannot, major. I did not hear of either 
 of them while we were at White Plains. Has Henry 
 been exchanged yet, or that brother of mine ? If not, 
 and I am sent to join them, very possibly I can find 
 out and get word to you. Either one of them would 
 be more apt to know than I. Scott has always been 
 an adorer of hers." 
 
 " I heard as much," answers Kearny, averting his 
 bandaged face and looking gloomily away. "It is 
 an engagement, I presume." 
 
 " It may be, I suppose, if we ever get through with 
 this unpleasantness."
 
 XXVII. 
 
 ONCE more the guidons are fluttering along the fa 
 miliar roadways under the shadows of the Bull Run 
 range. Once more the echoed trumpet-calls float mu 
 sically on the breeze, and long columns of horsemen 
 in jaunty blue jackets, yellow-trimmed, come trotting 
 down from the gaps and join the lines below. South 
 ward push the long, dusty ranks of infantry brigade 
 after brigade trudging cheerily along, with the guns of 
 the batteries " clinking " behind them. Lee is beaten 
 back from Pennsylvania and is returning to his old line 
 below the Rapidan ; and from many a Virginia home 
 stead whence issued stalwart, soldierly forms to join 
 the gray columns on their northward march, and at 
 whose doors and windows stood enthusiastic women 
 waving God -speed and loving farewell and wildly- 
 hopeful encouragement, there is heard now only the 
 wail of mourners for whom there seems no earthly 
 comfort. Pickett's grand assault, Stuart's headlong 
 charge, have left no lasting impress on the Union cause, 
 but have desolated half the homesteads in their native 
 state. 
 
 And Warrenton is saddest hamlet of them all. Not 
 a household here that wears not the badge of mourn 
 ing. Husbands, lovers, sons, and brothers, who so
 
 286 BETWEEN THE LINES. , 
 
 buoyantly set forth on the march of invasion, are missing 
 by hundreds when the thinned and sad-faced columns 
 reappear ; and though she, too, wears such mourning- 
 garb as the situation affords, Lucy Armistead, loving 
 ly welcomed and tenderly cared for in the family of 
 good old Dr. Loring, is the only woman in this sore- 
 stricken community to whom Gettysburg has not 
 brought new and grievous disaster. 
 
 Once more she is in Warrenton not the social pet 
 she was before the cruel war-days, for in most exagger 
 ated form the story of her deeds at Hopeville has 
 gone from mouth to mouth, and there are many among 
 her former intimates and "schoolgirl" friends who 
 coldly avoid her now. To this she appears to give no 
 heed. Ever since her dear old father's death she has 
 seemed crushed and hopeless. Loring took her to his 
 home, with faithful Hannah to serve her, and then, 
 finding it impossible to subsist in the western valley, 
 and urged by many friends to come and cast his lot 
 with theirs in the lovely old town among the wooded 
 hills, he moved into Warrenton, and now is living 
 there, doing what he can to alleviate the want and 
 suffering, the pitiful sorrows, of the bereaved ones all 
 around him. From the window of her lonely cham 
 ber, where she sits most of the livelong autumn day, 
 Lucy Armistead looks out over the peaceful church 
 yard where, side by side, are resting the father and 
 mother whom she loved so well ; and neither Loring's 
 efforts, the tender pleadings of his kind-hearted wife, 
 nor Hannah's spirited sallies seem potent to rouse her 
 from the apathy into which she is fallen. The neigh-
 
 BETWEEN THE LINES. 287 
 
 bors run in every now and then to see Mrs. Loring, or 
 to beg for some advice from the doctor, but they do 
 not ask for Lucy. She does not walk abroad; for 
 that matter, no one among the women cares to, except 
 the few who are so unterrified as to rejoice in the pos 
 sibility of being spoken to by the hated Yankees, or 
 so ill-favored as to repel the most determined and ruth 
 less of the invaders. The streets are given up to the 
 swarming soldiery, and communication from house to 
 house is mainly through the backyards. Some few 
 among Lucy's old friends have called and expressed a 
 desire to help her in her trouble, but they are very few, 
 and the reception she accords them is not encourag 
 ing. She has heard the grievous exaggerations that 
 have been current as to her father's life at the old 
 homestead, and she can be roused from her apathy 
 only by mention of this subject. Then she is one 
 blaze of indignation, and will hear no explanation, no 
 extenuation. That her honored father could have 
 lived in this community nearly seventy years only to 
 be branded in his declining days as a traitor, a spy, a 
 consorter with the enemy, an open and defiant har- 
 borer of men who sought the lives of his oldest friends, 
 a double - faced villain, giving information to both 
 sides, and living in comfort on their pay and bounty, 
 while his neighbors were starving such were the 
 statements told and believed in Warrenton in those 
 (lays when the coolest heads and most logical minds 
 were apt to be warped in their judgments by the end 
 less tales at the expense of any man or woman who 
 dared show less than hatred at sight of the Union
 
 288 BETWEEN THE LINES. 
 
 blue that her father should have been so cruelly 
 slandered is something Lucy Armistead can forgive in 
 none of her townsfolk, and so stands aloof from all. 
 
 And yet, poor girl, even while she hardens her heart 
 against them, she is oppressed with sore anxiety, and 
 is most in need of comfort. The story that is going 
 the rounds among the Warrentonians is that Henry 
 Armistead the one real, loyal Virginian of the fam 
 ily the gallant Confederate soldier and gentleman 
 the only one now left in the beloved gray uniform since 
 his heroic kinsman fell dead among Cushing's guns, 
 foremost in Pickett's memorable charge that this 
 brave, true Harry, whom they all loved and honored, 
 is now being tried for his life by a military commis 
 sion of bloodthirsty Yanks, and will doubtless be 
 hanged as a spy. The trial was ordered in Washing 
 ton, and his case is well-nigh hopeless. Such has been 
 Colonel Van Duzen's sense of what was due the na 
 tion under the circumstances, that, leaving to Lieu 
 tenant-Colonel Westerlo the command of the regiment 
 and the rescue from Stuart's raiders of his constitu 
 ents along the Susquehanna, the late district com 
 mander has turned up in Washington with his side of 
 the story, and, all other witnesses and persons inter 
 ested being battling at the front, or defenceless under 
 guard, the colonel has enjoyed the inestimable advan 
 tage of having the field to himself. The campaign 
 over, the opposing lines once more facing each other 
 down along the Rapidan, a military court has indeed 
 been organized to try poor Armistead, who stands 
 charged with entering the Union lines in disguise,
 
 BETWEEN THE LIXES. 289 
 
 with fraudulent papers and felonious intent in plain 
 words, with being a spy. 
 
 Reluctantly enough has Dr. Loring confessed these 
 details to her in answer to repeated inquiry. He 
 dreaded the effect, believing that the news would only 
 augment her wretchedness and plunge her deeper in 
 this deplorably apathetic condition ; but doctors are 
 sometimes as much surprised in their patients as in 
 the result of their prescriptions. If he had told her 
 of some great victory, and Harry's release from du 
 rance, he could hardly have roused her to more instant 
 and energetic action. For the first time since the 
 Union troops reoccupied the town she appears on the 
 little veranda, and, to Loring's amaze, walks straight 
 down through the shrubbery to the front gate, faith 
 ful Hannah following, and there in the twilight stands 
 eagerly gazing up and down the quaint old village 
 street. Soldiers are sauntering along across the way ; 
 a train of army-wagons is slowly trundling by ; sev 
 eral officers, some in cavalry, some in infantry dress, 
 are lounging near the corner, and these she studies 
 closely a moment, "shading her eyes with a slender 
 white hand," just as she stood that battle-eve at Hope- 
 ville. Loring anxiously follows, and takes his place 
 at her side. 
 
 " What do you mean to do, Lucy, child?" he asks 
 her, noting the flush that has mantled her white cheek 
 and the feverish excitement in her eyes. 
 
 " Doctor !" she exclaims, turning impulsively, al 
 most imploringly, towards him, " do not hinder do 
 not blame me ! Here I have no friends but you and 
 19
 
 290 BETWEEN THE LINES. 
 
 your loving ones, and you cannot help me now. 
 There, in that uniform, I can find one whose friend 
 ship is tried, one who can and will aid ine. He is here 
 somewhere, for I heard his voice but yesterday." 
 
 Even as she is speaking, and before the doctor can 
 reply, Hannah comes scurrying along the walk,, fol 
 lowed by a sauntering young cavalryman, who looks 
 back at the group of curious and watchful comrades 
 as though he half expects to be made the victim of 
 some practical joke and the butt of their ridicule. But 
 at sight of Lucy Armistead's face he promptly throws 
 away the cigar at which he was vigorously puffing, 
 hastily buttons his natty shell-jacket, and raises the 
 forage-cap, with its embroidered sabres. 
 
 "You wished to see ine?" he asks, with mingled 
 hesitancy and incredulity.. 
 
 " I wish very much to see Colonel Westerlo, and 
 ventured to ask your assistance ia finding him. Is he 
 not here ?" 
 
 " He was here, but I think he left for Washington 
 this morning. He is summoned as a witness at an 
 important trial." 
 
 " Oh, do not tell me he is gone ! I must see him. 
 It is it is my brother whose life is at stake." 
 
 "Captain Armistead !" exclaims the lieutenant. "Is 
 this pardon me Miss Armistead ? the young lady 
 who lived at Hopeville Gap ?" 
 
 " This is Miss Armistead," answers Dr. Loring, for 
 she has turned away, overcome with emotion. 
 
 " And wants to see Colonel "Westerlo at once," is 
 the cavalryman's response. " I'll fetch him if I have
 
 BETWEEN THE LINES. 291 
 
 to follow him to Washington, and you shall know in 
 ten minutes whether or not he has gone." Away goes 
 the young cavalier down the village street, brushing 
 through the inquisitive throng at the corner with im 
 petuosity they can no more resist than account for. 
 In less than ten minutes he is seen returning, and with 
 him comes striding along in glistening top-boots and 
 gleaming spurs and spotless gauntlets, a stout, sturdy, 
 ruddy-faced, gray-mustached old trooper, with the 
 silver-leaves of a lieutenant-colonel on his shoulders 
 a man at sight of whom the loungers respectfully 
 straighten up and touch their caps at sight of whom 
 Lucy Armistead, who has retired with the doctor to 
 the veranda of the little house, comes fluttering down 
 to the gate once more, and in another moment is cling 
 ing to his arm clinging to an arm encased in the hate 
 ful Union blue, and sobbing as though her heart would 
 break. Loring thanks God for the sight of her tears. 
 Later that day they are seated in the simply fur 
 nished parlor listening to Westerlo, who has been back 
 to his camp, and now reappears with a number of let 
 ters and papers. She is crouching on a low stool, 
 looking up in his face in breathless attention as he 
 begins. It is true, he tells them, that he had arrived 
 in Warrenton but the morning previous, and received 
 his orders to go to Washington as a witness for the 
 defence in Henry's case ; but a later telegram notified 
 him that he would not be examined until the end of 
 the week. The mail of the previous evening brought 
 him letters forwarded from the Shenandoah, and this 
 very morning came a telegram from Washington tell-
 
 292 BETWEEN THE LINES. 
 
 ing him Miss Armistead was living with Dr. Loring's 
 family, and to be sure and find her. 
 
 " From Henry ?" she inquires, eagerly. 
 
 " No, my child," answers Westerlo, gravely. " From 
 your quondam patient and prisoner, Colonel Kearny. 
 He is in Washington conducting your brother's de 
 fence with the best legal talent of the North to back 
 him." And as the old soldier turns again to his let 
 ter, he fails to see the flood of rich color that instantly 
 sweeps over the uplifted face and weighs it quickly 
 down. He never hears or even imagines the fervency 
 of the whispered prayer, " God in heaven bless him !" 
 He reads on, never looking up from the page to note 
 the effect of his words. 
 
 "Armistead is in excellent health, thanks to the 
 attentions lavished on him with the consent of the 
 authorities during his illness, and continued without 
 interference during his convalescence, and until he 
 was brought to this point for his trial. He is so se 
 rene and calm that I feel convinced that every soldier 
 on the court is warmly disposed towards him the 
 only trouble lies with two or three vehement patriots 
 of the Van Duzen type, who are death on rebels any 
 where except at the front. We still believe that with 
 your evidence and mine, and that of one or two men 
 whom he encountered, it will be possible to disprove 
 all charges of being a spy despite the disguise, but 
 it is taking hard work. If that scoundrel, Tierney, 
 had not been hanged, something might have been 
 wrung from him to exculpate Armistead. Was it not 
 odd that one of the Falconers should have been pres-
 
 BETWEEN THE LINES. 293 
 
 ent at the hanging ? Is it not odd " But here the 
 colonel abruptly stops. The next few words are, 
 " That the other Falconer contentedly remains a pris 
 oner, and his Virginia friends as contentedly permit 
 it ? Have they no use for him ? Armistead does not 
 like him yet seems aware of the situation of affairs 
 regarding which you once spoke to me." These words 
 old Westerlo skips entirely and comes down to the 
 following paragraph : 
 
 "Of course he was deeply affected by the news of 
 his father's death and the wanton destruction of the 
 old homestead. Anxiety as to Miss Armistead's fut 
 ure also seemed to weigh heavily upon him until he 
 got the news that she was under Dr. Loring's roof ; 
 but all this occurred before my arrival. When you 
 see her it might be well to assure her that nothing 
 will be left undone to save her brother, but there is 
 every reason why she should accept the earnest invi 
 tation of Mrs. Alexander to come to her here. Mrs. 
 Alexander is her mother's younger sister, and has been 
 devoted to Henry since he reached Washington." 
 
 " You will go with me, my child ?" asks Westerlo. 
 " You have read her letter ?" 
 
 " It was for that I begged you to come to me. I 
 would have gone to Washington to Henry if I had 
 had to ride there alone." 
 
 And that night, at Warrenton Junction, Dr. Loring 
 sees her safely ensconced in a queer old wreck of a 
 passenger car, tacked to the end of a long train of 
 empty brown boxes going back to Washington for 
 supplies. It is full of soldiers, guards, invalids, fur-
 
 294 BETWEEN THE LINES. 
 
 loughed officers and men ; but songs and laughter 
 cease when the slender, girlish form in the garb of 
 deepest mourning is ushered in by bluff old Colonel 
 Westerlo. Pipes and cigars are tossed aside. There 
 is only low-toned talk as the train jolts slowly and 
 painfully away over a road-bed patched out of all re 
 semblance to its original self, destroyed and rebuilt 
 time after time in place after place, and yet a blessed 
 thoroughfare to Lucy Armistead, since it leads to 
 Henry's side.
 
 XXYIII. 
 
 ANOTHER month has rolled away. "Wintry skies 
 are lowering over the tented slopes of Arlington. 
 Deep with mud are all the roads converging on the 
 causeway that leads from the "sacred soil" to the 
 Long Bridge. Gloom and depression seem prevalent 
 everywhere throughout the capital, and increasing 
 testiness becomes observable at the War Department. 
 Nothing of consequence is going on at the front, yet 
 officers who stand in need of brief leaves of absence 
 find them hard to get, and others who had been sum 
 moned to "Washington to testify before, or serve upon, 
 the court which tried Henry Armistead, were sent to 
 the right about the instant their duties were completed. 
 A hard -fought case was that. Kearny had early 
 taken the precaution to secure from the President 
 himself authority to remain imtil its termination, and 
 so, despite Van Duzen's efforts, he could not be sent 
 away. But the judge-advocate developed unexpected 
 traits as prosecutor, and had called a score of wit 
 nesses who, before the case for the government was 
 allowed to rest, had succeeded, despite themselves, in 
 convincing most hearers that there was little hope for 
 the accused. Poor Lucy, who at first had occupied a 
 seat close to his, was made so wretched by the appar-
 
 296 BETWEEN THE LINES. 
 
 ent complaisance with which Henry's counsel permit 
 ted this accumulation of evidence that her brother 
 begged her not to return to the court-room until the 
 defense began. "Wait until Westerlo and Kearny 
 are summoned," he had said. " Then they will hear 
 and see the other side." 
 
 Womanlike, however, she chafed at the idea of 
 waiting iintil the adversary was utterly talked out 
 before opening fire in return. But Mrs. Alexander 
 gently added her arguments to those of her brother ; 
 old Westerlo, who daily escorted them to and from 
 the court-room, gravely pleaded with her to remain 
 at home or to drive in the open air each day for the 
 week to come, by which time, he promised her, there 
 should be something worth hearing. As for Kearny, 
 he never _left the court an instant, and when not en 
 gaged in consultation with the prisoner and his coun 
 sel, or in taking notes of the testimony, he was around 
 among Van Duzen's people questioning. Only to greet 
 her with grave and courteous welcome, and a few words 
 of sympathy and cheer, had he been near her since 
 her coming, and it was not quite what she had hoped 
 or expected. 
 
 " I am ordered to return to Warrenton by first 
 train," said old Westerlo, coming suddenly in upon 
 them the day after her reluctant acceptance of the 
 new arrangement. " They will summon me by tele 
 graph when I am needed. You ask me why this order. 
 Ab, how can I say ? Fear not, little one. All goes 
 well. That Kearny he is a wonderful fellow ! He 
 is more than a match for them ; he will overturn
 
 BETWEEN THE LINES. 297 
 
 them overwhelm them. The lawyer, he is very 
 well ; but Colonel Kearny is the soldier. He knows 
 what will best tell with soldier judges, and every time 
 he writes a question they say the judge - advocate 
 scowls and refuses to put it, and then the court is 
 cleared for discussion ; and when it is reopened and 
 they go in again, the question is put, and our lawyer 
 smiles. Fear not, my child. All will come right. Ah, 
 you little thought a year ago that you had nursed 
 back the life that was to save your brother's !" 
 
 At last the case for the defence began, and once 
 more she took her place by Henry's side, and stout old 
 Westerlo the picture of the " square " and solid sol 
 dier gave his testimony, and stood unshaken by the 
 cross-fire of the judge-advocate. It was a matter of 
 some hours' work, and Lucy's tearful eyes and flush 
 ing cheeks bore witness to the emotion with which 
 she listened. Time and again that morning she found 
 it impossible to resist the longing to steal her hand 
 into Henry's as he sat there, so calm and serene. More 
 than once she found her eyes glancing furtively at 
 Kearny, seated as usual close by the lawyer's side. 
 How pale, how worn he looked ! How red and deep 
 seemed the scar of that sabre stroke upon his cheek ! 
 Then he was called to the witness stand, and all 
 through the evidence that he gave she was conscious 
 that the eyes of the judge-advocate a sandy-haired, 
 sharp-featured New England lawyer were wander 
 ing from her face to that of the witness and back 
 again. Then he began writing his questions, and 
 presently they were read, one at a time. They re-
 
 298 BETWEEN THE LINES. 
 
 lated to Kearny's sojourn at the Armistead place ; to 
 his reception there ; to his wounds, illness, suffering ; 
 then to the fact that she had been mainly instrumental 
 in nursing him back to health. She saw that Kearny's 
 pale features were becoming flushed, and that his 
 eyes were beginning to glow under their heavy brows. 
 It was apparent to him, then, that the purpose in ask 
 ing these questions was to convince the court that a 
 sense of gratitude impelled him to testify in behalf 
 of the prisoner. She saw that so long as the judge- 
 advocate looked towards the witness, Kearny's eyes 
 never flinched from their stern, set gaze into his ad 
 versary's face for as adversaries the events of the 
 trial had caused them to regard each other ; but when, 
 presently, the military exponent of the law glanced 
 down to look over his memoranda, Kearny quickly 
 turned : one instant he gazed at her, their eyes meet 
 ing fully as he did so, and then he looked, rather than 
 gave, a signal to the counsel for the defence. At the 
 next question asked by the judge-advocate there was 
 prompt objection; brief, animated discussion; a protest 
 on part of the defence that the question was irrelevant 
 and trenching upon new matter ; a vehement rejoinder, 
 and, in the midst of the war of words, the brief, stern 
 order from the lips of the presiding officer, " The court 
 will be cleared !" A moment afterwards, as she stood 
 in the corridor without, gazing up in Henry's face and 
 clinging to his arm, she was conscious that Kearny 
 was at her side. 
 
 " May I speak with you one moment, Miss Armis 
 tead ?" he asked.
 
 BETWEEN THE LINES. 299 
 
 It was the first interview he had asked since her com 
 ing, the only time he had sought to see or speak with 
 her alone; but she never hesitated. She well knew 
 the tone and tremor of his voice; she well knew that 
 it was some urgent and imperative need. Smilingly 
 Henry looked down as she turned away, and beckoned 
 to Mrs. Alexander to come to him in her stead. To 
 gether they stood and watched the pair as they walked 
 slowly towards a window at the end of the broad hall 
 way, Kearny bending over and speaking earnestly to 
 the slender girl, whose face at first seemed looking up 
 into his, then, all on a sudden, drooped from the search 
 in his shining eyes. 
 
 " How I wish it could be !" said Mrs. Alexander, as 
 she read the thought revealed in Armistead's frank 
 face. 
 
 " And why shouldn't it ?" he asked, in some sur 
 prise at the doubt in her tone. "What man on earth 
 is better worth her ?" 
 
 "I do not know. It isn't him. Any one any 
 woman, at least, can see how he loves the very ground 
 she moves on. There is something wrong; he has 
 hardly come near her. I believe he has told her, and 
 she has refused." 
 
 " Then I mean to know the reason why !" said 
 Armistead, hastily. 
 
 ''Henry! If you want to ruin the whole thing, 
 just do it." 
 
 They were coming back now. Only a few words 
 had been exchanged. He was very pale, and his face 
 had a set, steadfast look, an expression of a knowledge
 
 300 BETWEEN THE LINES. 
 
 of an ordeal ahead which there was no dodging. Hers 
 was downcast, suffused. As they neared the waiting 
 pair, she seemed to quicken her pace, and, quitting her 
 escort's side, came straight forward without another 
 word to him, without even a glance of farewell. 
 
 Presently the doors were reopened ; the prisoner, 
 and his counsel and friends, and the array of curious 
 spectators, filed quickly back into the close atmosphere 
 where sat in solemn dignity the blue-uniformed court. 
 Mrs. Alexander endeavored to move in with the rest, 
 but turned in surprise at Lucy's whispered " Wait !" 
 Amidst the rustling of dresses, the tramp of feet, the 
 moving of benches, and the crowding of lookers-on 
 at the door, the rasping voice of the judge-advocate 
 could be plainly distinguished. 
 
 " It is the decision of the court that the question is 
 relevant, and the objection of the defence is over 
 ruled, The witness will therefore answer." 
 
 " Aunt Annie ! Come away anywhere ! I can 
 not stay !" was the astonishing plea that fell on Mrs. 
 Alexander's ears. "Without a word she led her niece 
 out into the open air, out into the November sleet; but 
 even as they passed the portals, where sentries in belted 
 blue kept guard, the bell in a neighboring tower tolled 
 three o'clock. The court stood adjourned for the day. 
 When it met on the morrow she was not there, and the 
 question the judge-advocate meant to ask when she re 
 appeared was not asked at all. He had reserved it as 
 a dramatic coup, but Kearny's quick wits had forestalled 
 him. "Miss Armistead," he had said to her, " in order 
 to convince this court that I am biassed in your broth-
 
 BETWEEN THE LINES. 301 
 
 er's favor, and so to discredit my evidence, it is the pur 
 pose of that man to ask questions which, except the court 
 forbid, I must answer. It is not that I shrink from 
 laying bare my heart, if good could come of it, but here 
 it might do harm. To make its effect telling, he means 
 to ask it in your presence. I beg you to remain away 
 not to re-enter that room until you are notified that 
 I am no longer under examination. Will you promise ?" 
 
 She could not look up. Down in the depths of her 
 heart she knew knew well what he meant. The 
 tenor of the questions already asked was but prepara 
 tion for others yet to come. She knew now, after these 
 few words of Kearny's, that he would be questioned 
 as to his sentiments towards her possibly, in plain 
 words, whether he did or did not love the sister of the 
 prisoner, the young lady now seated by the prisoner's 
 side. Never would she subject him to that. And yet 
 and yet, still with drooping head and downcast eyes, 
 she stood trembling, hesitant. Could it be she wished 
 to hear from his lips once again the words she had for 
 bidden when last they met ? Could it be that even in 
 this supreme moment there was in her sweet, frank, 
 open nature a tiny spark of coquetry ? Would she 
 have been quite woman without it ! 
 
 "What what can he ask?" she murmured; and 
 though her head bowed lower, though she could not 
 look up in his face, she listened with eager ears and 
 beating heart. 
 
 " He would ask that which would compel me to say 
 again, and, this time, to the whole populace, that my 
 heart and soul are bound up in the girl who sits there
 
 302 BETWEEN THE LINES. 
 
 at the prisoner's side the sister of this imperilled man. 
 God knows it is not for myself I implore you to keep 
 away. It is for Henry's sake. But for that the whole 
 world might know that ever since your sweet face 
 led me back to life and strength I have loved you 
 utterly." 
 
 The end of the dreary month is at hand. The court 
 has adjourned, and its members have gone their ways 
 to other spheres of duty. As to the verdict, no one 
 of their number can reveal it. The " proceedings" are 
 now under review at the War Department; but an old 
 soldier who knew her father in the ante-bellum days 
 calls and asks for Lucy before he leaves the city. 
 "My dear young lady," he says to her, "you have 
 made such a study of military law of late that you 
 know we are sworn not to divulge the sentence of the 
 court; but the first time I find myself in a scrape I 
 shall beg that fine fellow, Kearny, to be amicus curice 
 for me though I shrewdly fancy it isn't money that 
 inspires his efforts." And the veteran goes away think 
 ing he has said something capital. 
 
 Everybody tells her Henry is triumphantly acquitted. 
 Dozens of people good Union-loving people among 
 them, too were fascinated by his dignity and noble 
 bearing before the court, as well as by her sweet, pallid 
 face and pathetic mourning garb. Old Wcsterlo tele 
 graphs from Warrenton words of hearty congratula 
 tion the very day after the adjournment of the court, 
 though he is careful to make no allusion to Henry or 
 Henry's case in doing so. But how could he know
 
 BETWEEN THE LINES. 303 
 
 the result ? Who could tell him ? Mrs. Alexander's 
 cosey home has many callers just now people who 
 are full of sympathy and loving-kindness, and whom 
 Lucy thanks with tears in her eyes; but the one whom 
 she longs to see and thank, the one for whom her heart 
 prays night and day, never comes near her. It is with 
 a shock of bitter sorrow, of almost incredulous grief, 
 she hears in answer to the timid question that for two 
 days has trembled on her lips that Colonel Kearny has 
 returned to take command of his regiment at the front. 
 Gone without a look or a word ! Gone without giv 
 ing her opportunity to say, " God bless you for all you've 
 done for me and mine " ! Gone when now, at last, she 
 fully realizes that, except the love she bears her soldier 
 brother, all the maiden wealth, all the girlish, worship, 
 all the woman's honor and reverence of her heart of 
 hearts, is centred in him, her knight, her hero, her 
 brother's savior. 
 
 Henry has been escorted back to his guarded case 
 mate in a distant harbor, and as letters from the pris 
 oners have to be scrutinized by the authorities, he has 
 warned her to look for no line from him until after the 
 promulgation of the orders in his case. Then he ex 
 pects prompt exchange, and Mrs. Alexander is to take 
 her to see him once more before he goes back to re 
 join his gallant troop in Stuart's lines. Wayne Fal 
 coner and he are planning to go in the same " batch " 
 of prisoners, he has told her, and she recalls the fact 
 that of the other Falconer he has avoided all mention. 
 She used to wonder at Henry's evident dislike for 
 "poor Scott," as the elder brother once spoke of him.
 
 304 BETWEEN THE LINES. 
 
 Now she shares it, and one day when Mrs. Alexander, 
 narrowly watching her as she does so, reads aloud that 
 this officer has given his parole and expects to go 
 abroad, she at once amazes and delights her warm 
 hearted relative by springing to her feet, her face flush 
 ing with indignation and vividly contrasting with the 
 pallor of the past week, and with all her old spirit, 
 exclaiming, " Given his parole ! Going abroad ! Oh, 
 the shame of it ! I hope he may never set foot in 
 America again !" 
 
 "And yet," said Mrs. Alexander to herself, "they 
 thought it was he who stood in Colonel Kearny's 
 way." 
 
 Two days more and there comes sudden telegram to 
 Mrs. Alexander that fills them with surprise. It is 
 dated New York. 
 
 "Come at once. Captain Armistead leaves for Fortress Monroe 
 to-morrow for exchange. GERARD B. PAULDING." 
 
 " Who is Gerard B. Paulding ?" asks Mrs. Alexan 
 der, after a moment of rapid calculation as to time 
 and train. 
 
 "He is a relative of Colonel Kearny's," answers 
 Lucy, slowly. "Henry knew him when he was at 
 college, at least he knew his daughter." 
 
 Early the next day they are in New York, and a 
 little steamer plying down the bay conveys them to 
 the island fortification under whose guns is already 
 moored the big black transport that is to carry the 
 swarm of prisoners " back to Dixie." Aboard the 
 boat with them are numerous people, men and women,
 
 BETWEEN THE LINES. 305 
 
 who are mainly silent and apparently distrustful of 
 one another. They are friends or relatives, hoping 
 for a word or two with the Southerners before they 
 go. As the gang-plank is thrown out, a young officer 
 springs briskly aboard, followed by two or three non 
 commissioned officers and men. The guard at the 
 sally-port is paraded under arms. A number of pas 
 sengers press forward and attempt to go ashore, but 
 are promptly checked. None may land who are un 
 provided with passes from the general commanding in 
 the city. There has been no time to think of such a 
 thing, and Lucy, in despair, turns her brimming eyes 
 to her aunt. " Oh, what can we do?" she asks. Mrs. 
 Alexander appeals to the officer. He is courteous, 
 but firm. The orders are imperative. But at this 
 instant there appears upon the scene a tall, distin 
 guished-looking man, somewhat elderly, but with alert 
 movements and observant eyes. "Mrs. Alexander? 
 Miss Armistead ?" he inquires, lifting his hat as he 
 bows with courtly grace. " They hardly dared expect 
 you until the noon boat, but I came out to see, and 
 was assured the instant my eyes fell on this young 
 lady's face. Take my arm, Mrs. Alexander. Captain 
 Cutting, will you escort Miss Armistead ?" 
 
 And so they are led ashore past sentries, who salute 
 in silence instead of opposing glittering arms. A 
 moment's walk brings them to the quarters of the com 
 manding officer, and there another sentry " presents " 
 to the officer of the day, and a corporal reports that 
 " the gentleman is in the colonel's parlor." Wonder- 
 ingly, Lucy ascends the wooden stairs. Who may 
 20
 
 306 BETWEEN THE LINES. 
 
 " they " be ? she asks herself as the party enters. Op 
 posite the doorway to the bright army parlor Mr. 
 Paulding pauses with Mrs. Alexander at his side, and 
 smilingly beckons Lucy to lead. She does so, silently, 
 and stands just inside the portals, looking around in 
 surprise and disappointment. No Henry there to wel 
 come her ! Beyond, there is another room, a library 
 and a study combined, and its door is open. Stepping 
 lightly thither, Lucy Armistead pauses in astonish 
 ment. Yonder stands Henry, oblivious of her pres 
 ence, and by his side, gazing up into his eyes, clinging 
 to his arm, encircled by the other, is the explanation 
 of his oblivion a beautiful, dark-eyed, dark-haired 
 girl. Even in her stupefaction, Miss Armistead can 
 not but notice how admirably she is dressed, and, 
 womanlike, feels herself at disadvantage; but in the 
 next instant the absorbed pair have suddenly looked 
 up and seen her. 
 
 " Lulie !" cries the captain, as he springs forward 
 and clasps her in his arms. Then, with pride and 
 mirth and gladness mingling in his heart, he raises 
 her tearful face, kisses tenderly the moistened eyes. 
 " Come!" he says, laughing in delight, holding her with 
 his left arm and stretching forth the other hand for 
 the tall stranger standing there with such a happy 
 blush upon her face. " Come ! It's high time you 
 knew each other, you sisters that are to be, despite the 
 fact we are Rebs to the very marrow. Lucy, this is 
 my promised wife, Kate Paulding." 
 
 She comes forward smilingly, and bends with glis 
 tening eyes and mantling cheeks to greet the girl who
 
 BETWEEN THE LINES. 307 
 
 still hovers there wonderingly, encircled by Henry's 
 arm. There is an instant only of silence and hesita 
 tion on Lucy's part; then her voice obeys her. 
 
 " Oh, forgive me !" she cries. " I I'm so glad ; 
 but I thought all along Why, Henry! You told 
 me so yourself !" 
 
 And Kate Paulding's lips are pressed to her wet 
 cheek before she answers, laughing low amid her 
 blushes. 
 
 " That was all my fault. A school-girl romance, 
 all my own, and long since forgotten." 
 
 Mine Run, that bloodless contest wherein for the 
 last time Lee's science prevailed over the Army of 
 .the Potomac, is over and done with. The nation has 
 dismally resigned itself to the inevitable winter of 
 masterly inactivity in the East, but looks hopefully to 
 the generals rising, fight after fight, to eminence in 
 the West. Thither enterprising young soldiers are 
 eagerly turning. Thither Colonel Frank Kearny has 
 determined to make his way, and is once again in 
 Washington seeking service in the distant field. Lucy 
 Armistead listens with bated breath and wildly flut 
 tering heart to her aunt's cool announcement of her 
 casual meeting with him near Willard's, his kind in 
 quiries after her, and his regrets that he would prob 
 ably be unable to see her, as he expected to start for 
 Chattanooga on the morrow. But cool as is Mrs. 
 Alexander's manner, her eyes are observant as ever, 
 and that evening he comes. 
 
 How he looks, what he says, what she replies these
 
 308 BETWEEN THE LINES. 
 
 are matters that for ten minutes or more Lucy Armis- 
 tead knows nothing of. She is seated there in the arm 
 chair, listening to the grave, courteous tones in which 
 he is telling Mrs. Alexander of some friends of hers in 
 the cavalry corps. For a quarter of an hour she herself 
 hardly speaks a word. Then Mrs. Alexander rises. 
 
 " I know your time is precious, colonel, and so I will 
 go and write the letter at once. You are sure it won't 
 be a trouble to you ? No doubt the mails would even 
 tually carry it to Cousin Harry." 
 
 " But I shall see the captain in less than four days. 
 Don't fear to burden me. Make it as long as you 
 like." And in another moment she is gone. Lucy 
 glances timidly, tremblingly, up at the tall, stalwart 
 soldier who opens the door for the departing lady. 
 Then the room seems to whirl as he slowly returns and 
 stands there by the mantel. He will not speak, and 
 at last she has to. 
 
 " I am so glad you came to see us, colonel. There 
 would have been no way to tell you how I thanked 
 you," she begins. 
 
 But he raises his hand, interposing. 
 
 " There was no need," he answers, gently. " What 
 have I done compared with what you and yours have 
 done and suffered on my account ? though you lost 
 no opportunity, Miss Armistead," he adds, with rather 
 a dreary smile, " to assure me it was all on Henry's 
 account. Have you heard from him at all ?" 
 
 "Not since his return; that is, not directly." And 
 now she is tingling all over. How can she speak of 
 Kate Paulding ?
 
 BETWEEN THE LINES. 309 
 
 " Through my Cousin Kate ?" he unhesitatingly 
 asks. " That reminds me. We can congratulate each 
 other on being in futuro second cousins-in-law, can 
 we not ? I am really delighted with that engagement, 
 though they tell me it is not to be spoken of until the 
 war is over rather an indefinite time. By the way 
 now may I see the letter Henry wrote to insure my 
 welcome at the homestead ? How the conceit is taken 
 out of one as he advances in years ! Henry demands 
 my safety and nursing and concealment solely, I find, 
 on account of my fair cousin, with whom he was in 
 love, and who, with the ruthlessness of her sex, exacted 
 the promise from him that if ever I fell into his hands 
 he would do his best to save me. Being an Armis- 
 tead, he had to keep his word. Then you nurse and 
 guard me all on Henry's account ; and I ah, well ! 
 I've paid for it heavily. Once I was absurd enough 
 to hope it might have been a little on my own account. 
 There forgive me I mean no reproach. I vowed 
 not to speak of it. I even meant not to see you; 
 but your aunt sent an urgent message; she wished 
 to see me. Let me have Henry's letter to read every 
 now and then ; it will cure this malady better than any 
 thing else perhaps." 
 
 But she has bowed her head and will make no an 
 swer. He comes a step or two towards her, wondering 
 at her silence. Still she sits there bending forward 
 now, her face hidden in her trembling hands. 
 
 " You need not hesitate, Lucy," he continues, gen 
 tly. " She has written me the whole story how she 
 once fancied it was Cousin Frank she adored, and all
 
 310 BETWEEN THE LINES. 
 
 that school-girl nonsense. It was all over with when 
 a fellow like your Henry appeared as a lover, and I 
 don't wonder. And so twice, it seems, am I forestalled 
 by these incomparable Virginia wooers. I surrender 
 my boy sweetheart to an Armistead. I yield the love, 
 the queen, the wife of my heart and soul and strength 
 you, oh, my darling, to Scott Falconer." 
 
 She springs to her feet now, her eyes dilating, her 
 little hands clasping tightly as she gazes full into his 
 quivering face. 
 
 " Scott Falconer ! Colonel Kearny, what can you 
 mean ? Scott Falconer ! The man the Virginian 
 who gave his parole and has fled to Europe to avoid 
 further service that coward!" 
 
 " They told me so his own brother you yourself 
 just after I saw you with him. If he is not 'that 
 other ' who stood between us, in God's name who is it ?" 
 
 She cannot answer she cannot speak. Her eyes 
 are drooping again, her bosom heaving, her heart 
 bounding. Oh, why cannot he see why does not he 
 understand? Suddenly there is a rustle of skirts in 
 the upper hall Aunt Annie's brisk and cheery voice. 
 The letter is written and she is returning. It is now 
 or never, and Lucy knows it. He springs to her side 
 as the steps of the lady of the house, distinct and de 
 liberate, are heard at the head of the stairs. 
 
 " Lucy, tell me," he implores. 
 
 And then quickly she turns, though even now her 
 sweet eyes are hidden ; quickly her hand flutters into 
 his throbbing palm, almost breathlessly she murmurs 
 the longed-for answer,
 
 BETWEEN THE LINES. 311 
 
 "No man on earth." 
 
 What eccentric creatures some women are ! Half 
 way down the stairs Mrs. Alexander discovers she 
 has forgotten a postscript, and turns about to write it. 
 There is a blessed quarter of an hour in which to re 
 cover from the semi-dazed condition in which the oc 
 cupants of the parlor find themselves. A little later 
 they are standing at the mantel, and she is looking 
 shyly up into his glowing, soldierly face, a great joy 
 illumining her violet eyes. 
 
 " And it was Wayne Falconer whose sabre did that 
 a Virginia sabre ?" 
 
 " A Virginia sabre, indeed ! You must thank your 
 own neighbors for spoiling what good looks I had, 
 Lucy," he replies, laughingly. 
 
 She is silent a moment, still looking up at the red 
 scar on his cheek. 
 
 " I was thinking of a story I once read. A soldier 
 who went to his king and begged his permission to 
 challenge a brother officer who had struck him in the 
 face. Nothing else, he said, would wash out the stain 
 upon his honor or heal the smart. Did you ever hear 
 it, or how the king made amends for the injury ?" 
 
 " I do not remember it," he answers. 
 
 She hesitates a moment, the color deepening in her 
 face. Her hands are clasped together but she raises 
 and rests them timidly on his breast. Then looking 
 up in his eyes she whispers, 
 
 "Bend down, just a little." 
 
 He does so, inclining his ear for the expected words.
 
 312 BETWEEN THE LINES. 
 
 Suddenly she rises on tiptoe, her arms are quickly 
 thrown about his neck, his bronzed cheek is drawn 
 still nearer, and then her soft lips rest upon the sabre's 
 scar. 
 
 THE END.
 
 BY CAPTAIN CHAKLES KING. 
 
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