CHAPTER IX. THE OPEN DOOR
"Dick," said Colonel Winchester the next morning, "I think you are thebest scout and trailer among my young officers. Mr. Pennington, you areprobably the best on the plains, and I've no doubt, Warner, that youwould do well in the mountains, but for the hills, forests and riversI'll have to choose Dick. I've another errand for you, my boy. You'reto go on foot, and you're to take this dispatch to Admiral Porter, whocommands the iron-clads in the river near the city. Conceal it carefullyabout you, but I anticipate no great danger for you, as Vicksburg ispretty well surrounded by our forces."
The dispatch was written on thin, oiled paper. Dick hid it away in thelining of his coat and departed upon another important mission, fullof pride that he should be chosen for it. He had all the passwords andcarried two good pistols in his belt. Rich in experience, he felt ableto care for himself, even should the peril be greater than ColonelWinchester had expected.
The sun was not far above the horizon but it was warm and brilliant,and it lighted up the earth, throwing a golden glow over the plateau ofVicksburg, the great maze of ravines and thickets and the many waters.
He passed along the lines, walking rapidly southward, and saw more thanone officer of his acquaintance. Hertford's cavalry were in a field, andthe colonel himself sat on a portion of the rail fence that had enclosedit. He hailed the lad pleasantly.
"Into the forest again, Dick," he said.
"Not this time, sir," Dick replied. "It's just a little trip, down theriver."
"Success to the trip and a speedy return."
Dick nodded and walked on. He was quite sure that his dispatch was anorder from Grant for Porter to come up the stream and join in a generalattack which everybody felt sure was planned for an early date.
As he passed through the regiments and brigades he received muchgood-humored chaff. The great war of America differed widely from thegreat wars of Europe. The officers and men were more nearly on a planeof equality. The vast majority of them had been volunteers in thebeginning and perhaps this feeling of comradeship made them fight allthe better. North and South were alike in it.
"Which way, sonny?" called a voice from a group. "You don't find thefighting down there. It's back toward Vicksburg."
Dick nodded and smiled.
"Maybe he's out walking for exercise. These officers ride too much."
Dick walked on with a steady swinging step. He regarded the sunbrowned,careless youths with the genuine affection of a brother. Many of themwere as young as he or younger, but they were now veterans of battleand march. Napoleon's soldiers themselves could not have boasted of moreexperience than they.
He was coming to the last link in the steel chain, and the colonel ofa regiment, an old man, warned him to be careful as he approached theriver.
"Southern sharpshooters are among the ravines and thickets," he said."They fired on our lads about dawn and then escaped easily in the thickcover."
"Thank you, sir," said Dick, "I'll be on my guard." Yet he did not feelthe presence of danger. Youth perhaps becomes more easily hardened inwar than middle age, or perhaps it thinks less of consequences. TheUnion cannon, many of great weight and power, had begun already tofire upon Vicksburg. Huge shells and shot were rained upon the city.Pemberton had two hundred guns facing the river and the army, but tospare his ammunition they made little reply.
Dick looked back now and then. He saw flakes of fire on the northernhorizon, puffs of smoke and the curving shells. He felt that Vicksburgwas no pleasant place to be in just now, and yet it must be full ofcivilians, many of them women and children. He was sorry for them. Itwas Dick's nature to see both sides of a quarrel. He could never hatethe Southerners, because they saw one way and he another.
It was a passing emotion. It was too fine a morning for youth to grieve.At the distance the plumes of smoke made by the shells became decorativerather than deadly. From a crest he saw upon the plateau of Vicksburgand even discerned the dim outline of houses. Looking the other way,he saw the smoke of the iron-clads down the river, and he also caughtglimpses of the Mississippi, gold in the morning sun over its vastbreadth.
Then he entered the thickets, and, bearing in mind the kindly warningof the old colonel, proceeded slowly and with extreme caution. TheSoutherners knew every inch of the ground here and he knew none. Hecame to a ravine and to his dismay found that a considerable stream wasflowing through it toward the bayou. It was yellow water, and he thoughthe might find a tree, fallen across the stream, which would serve him asa foot log, but a hunt of a few minutes disclosed none, and, hesitatingno longer, he prepared to wade.
He put his belt with the pistols in it around his neck and stepped inboldly. His feet sank in the mud. The water rose to his knees and thento his waist. It was, in truth, deeper than he had expected--one couldnever tell about these yellow, opaque streams. He took another step andplunged into a hole up to his shoulders.
Angry that he should be wet through and through, and with such muddywater too, he crossed the stream.
He looked down with dismay at his uniform. The sun would soon dry it,but until he got a chance to clean it, it would remain discolored andyellow, like the jeans clothes which the poorer farmers of the Southoften wore. And yet the accident that he bemoaned, the bath in waterthick with mud, was to prove his salvation.
Dick shook himself like a big dog, throwing off as much of the water ashe could. He had kept his pistols dry and he rebuckled his belt aroundhis waist. Then he returned to his errand. Among the thickets he saw butlittle. Vicksburg, the Mississippi, and the Union camp disappeared. Hebeheld only a soft soil, many bushes and scrub forest. After going alittle distance he was compelled to stop again and consider. It wascurious how one could lose direction in so small a space.
He paused and listened, intending to regain his course through the senseof hearing. From the north and east came the thunder of the siege guns.It had grown heavier and was continuous now. Once more he was sorry forVicksburg, because the Union gunners were unsurpassed and he was surethat bombs and shells were raining upon the devoted town.
Now he knew that he must go west by south, and he made his way overdifficult country, crossing ravines, climbing hills, and picking hispath now and then through soft ground, the most exhausting labor of all.The sun poured down upon him and his uniform dried fast. He had justcrossed one of the ravines and was climbing into the thicket beyond whena voice asked:
"See any of the Yanks in front?"
Dick's heart stood still, and then all his presence of mind cameback. Not in vain had the kindly colonel warned him of the Southernsharpshooters in the bush.
"No," he replied. "They seem to be farther up. One of our fellows toldme he saw a whole regiment of them off there to the right."
He plunged deeper into the bush and walked on as if he were among hisown comrades. He realized that his faded uniform with its dye of yellowmud had caused him to be mistaken for one of Pemberton's men. Hisaccent, which was Kentuckian and therefore Southern, had helped himalso. He passed three or four other men, bent over, rifle in hand andwatching, and he nodded to them familiarly. In such a crisis he knewthat boldness and ease were his best cards, and he said to one of themen, with a laugh:
"You'll have to tell us Tennesseeans about all your bayous and creeks.I've just fallen into one that had no right to be there."
"You Tennesseeans need a bath anyhow," replied the man, chuckling.
"We'd never choose a Mississippi stream for it," said Dick in thesame vein, and passed on leaving the rifleman in high good humor. Howwonderfully these Southerners were like the Northerners! He noticedpresently a half-dozen other sharpshooters in the Confederate butternut,prowling among the bushes, and through an opening he saw his own peopleto the west, but too far away to be reached by anything but artillery.The slow, deep music of the Northern guns came steadily to his ear, buttheir fire was always turned toward Vicksburg.
Dick knew that his position was extremely critical. Perhaps it wasgrowing more so al
l the while, but he was never cooler. A quiet lad, healways rose wonderfully to an emergency. He was quite sure that hewas among Mississippi troops, and they could not possibly know all thesoldiers from the other states gathered for the defense of Vicksburg. Hedid not differ from those around him in any respect, except that he didnot carry a rifle.
He paused and looked back thoughtfully at the distant Union troops.
"Can you tell me how they're posted?" he said to a tall, thinmiddle-aged man who had a chew of tobacco in his cheek. "I carrydispatches to General Pemberton, and the more information I can give himthe better."
"Yes, I kin tell you," replied the man, somewhat flattered. "They'reposted everywhere. What, with their army and them boats of theirs in theriver, they've got a high fence around us, all staked and ridered."
"It doesn't take any more work to tear a fence down than it does tobuild it up."
"I reckon you're right thar, stranger. But was you at Champion Hill?"
"No, I missed that."
"Then it was a good thing for you that you did. I didn't set much storeby the Yanks when this war began. One good Southerner could whip five of'em any time, our rip-roarin', fire-eatin' speech-makers said. I knowedthen, too, that they was right, but I was up thar in Kentucky a while,an' after Donelson I reckoned that four was about as many as I wantedto tackle all to oncet. Then thar was Shiloh, an' I kinder had a thoughtthat if three of 'em jumped on me at one time I'd hev my hands purtyfull to lick 'em. Then come Corinth, an,' reasonin' with myself, I saidI wouldn't take on more'n two Yanks at the same time. An' now, sinceI've been at Champion Hill, I know that the Yank is a pow'ful goodfighter, an' I reckon one to one jest about suits me, an' even then I'dlike to have a leetle advantage in the draw."
"I feel that way about it, too. The Yankees are going to make a heapof trouble for us here. But I must be going. What's the best path intoVicksburg?"
"See that little openin' in the bushes. Follow it. Jest over the hillyou'll run into a passel of our fellers, but pay no 'tention to 'em. Ifthey ask you who you are an' whar you're boun' tell 'em to go straightto blazes, while you go to Vicksburg."
"Thank you," said Dick, "I like to meet an obliging and polite man likeyou. It helps even in war."
"Don't mention it. When I wuz a little shaver my ma told me always tomind my manners, an' when I didn't she whaled the life out of me. An',do you know, stranger, she's just a leetle, withered old woman, but ifshe could 'pear here right now I'd be willin' to set down right in thesebushes an' say, 'Ma, take up that stick over thar an' beat me across theshoulders an' back with it as hard as you kin.' I'd feel good all over."
"I believe you," said Dick, who thought of his own mother.
He followed the indicated path until he was out of sight of everybody,and then he plunged into the bushes and marsh toward the river. When hewas well hidden he stopped and considered.
It was quite evident that he had wandered from the right road, butit was no easy task to get back into it. There was an unconsciousConfederate cordon about him and he must pass through it somewhere. Hemoved farther toward the river, but only went deeper into the swamp.
He turned to the south and soon reached firm ground, but he heardConfederate pickets talking in front of him. Then he caught glimpses oftwo or three men watching among the trees, and he lay down in a clump ofbushes. He might pass them as he had passed the others, but he thoughtit wiser not to take the risk.
He was willing also to rest a little, as he had done a lot of hardwalking. His clothing was now dry, and the mud had dried upon it.
He turned aside into one of the deep ravines and then into a smaller oneleading from it. The bushes were dense there and he lay down among them,so completely hidden that he was invisible ten feet away. Here he stillheard the mutter of the guns, which came in a long, droning sound, andoccasionally a rifle cracked at some point closer by. The Union armywas still busy and he felt a few moments of despondency. His dispatchundoubtedly was of great importance, and yet he was not able to deliverit. It was highly probable that for precaution's sake other messengersbore the same dispatch, but he was anxious to arrive with hisnevertheless, and he wanted, too, to arrive first. The last now seemedimpossible and the first improbable.
The crackling fire came nearer. Owing to the lack of percussion caps,Pemberton had ordered his men to use their rifles sparingly, butevidently a considerable body of sharpshooters near Dick were attemptinga flanking movement of some kind, and meant to carry it out withbullets. He was impatient to see, but prudence kept him in his covert, aprudence that was soon justified, as presently he heard voices very nearhim and then the sound of footsteps.
He rose up a little and saw several hundred Confederate soldiers passingon the slopes not more than a hundred yards away. They went south ofhim, and he recognized with growing alarm that the wall across his waywas growing higher. When they were gone and he could no longer heartheir tread among the bushes he slipped from his hiding place and wentdirectly toward Vicksburg. Being within an iron ring he thought thatperhaps he would be safer somewhere near the center. He might make hisway without much trouble through the vast confused crowd in Vicksburg,and then in the night go down the river's edge and to the fleet.
It was a daring idea, so very daring that it appealed to the strain ofhigh adventure in the lad. He was encouraged, too, by his earlier andeasy success in passing among the Confederate soldiers. But in order notto appear reckless and to satisfy his own conscience he tried once morefor the way to the south. But the soldiers entirely barred the paththere, and, being on some duty that required extreme vigilance, theywere likely to prove exacting.
He advanced with a clear mind toward Vicksburg, picking his way amongthe forests and ravines, but, after long walking over most difficultground, he saw before him extensive earthworks thronged with Southerntroops. When he turned westward the result was the same, and then itbecame evident that there was no flaw in the iron ring. He could not gothrough to Porter, he could not go back to his own army, but Vicksburginvited him as a guest.
He would make the trial at night. It was a long wait, but he dared notrisk it by day, and, going back into one of the ravines, he soughta secluded and sheltered place. Threshing the bushes to drive awaypossible snakes, he crawled into a clump and lay there. Resolved to bepatient in spite of everything, he did not stir, but listened to the farthrobbing of the cannon which poured an incessant storm of missiles uponunhappy Vicksburg.
The warmth and the heavy air in the ravine were relaxing. His brain grewso dull and heavy that he fell asleep, and when he awoke the twilightwas coming. And yet he had lost nothing. He had gained rather. The timehad passed. His body had been strengthened and his nerves steadied whilehe slept.
The distant booming of the guns still came. He had expected it. That wasGrant. He had wrapped the coil of steel around Vicksburg and he wouldnever relax. Dick felt that there was no hope for the town, unlessJohnston outside could gather a powerful army and fight Grant on eventerms. But he considered it impossible, and there, too, was the greatartery of the river along which flowed men and supplies of every kindfor the Union.
The Southern twilight turned swiftly into night and, coming from hislair, Dick walked boldly toward the town. He had eaten nothing sincemorning, but he had not noticed it, until this moment, when he began tofeel a little faintness. He resolved that Vicksburg should supply him.It was curious how much help he expected of Vicksburg, a hostile town.
He saw lights soon both to right and to left and he strengthened hissoul. He knew that he must be calm, but alert and quick with the rightanswer. With his singular capacity for meeting a crisis he advanced intothe thick of danger with a smiling face, even as his great ancestor,Paul Cotter, had often done.
His calm was of short duration. There was a rushing sound, somethingstruck violently, and a tremendous explosion followed. Fire flashedbefore Dick's eyes, pieces of red hot metal whistled past his head,earth spattered him and he was thrown to the ground.
He sprang
up again, understanding all instantly. A shell from his ownarmy had burst near him, and he had been thrown down by the concussion.But he had not been hurt, and in a few seconds his pulse beat steadily.
He heard a shout of laughter as he stood, brushing the fresh dirt fromhis clothing. He glanced up in some anger, but he saw at once that thearrival of the shell had been most fortunate for his plan. To come nearannihilation by a Federal gun certainly invested him with a Confederatecharacter.
It was a group of young soldiers who were laughing and their amusementwas entirely good-natured. They would have laughed the same way had theharmless adventure befallen one of their own number. Dick judged thatthey were from the Southwest.
"Close call," he said, smiling that attractive smile, which was visibleeven in the twilight.
"It was a friendly shell," said one of the youths, "and it concludednot to come too close to you. These Yankee shells are so loving thatsometimes they spray themselves in little pieces all over a fellow, likea shower of rice over a bride at a wedding."
"How long do you think the Yankees will keep it up?" asked Dick, puttingindignation in his tone. "Haven't they any respect for the night?"
"Not a bit. That fellow Grant is a pounder. They say he'll blow away thewhole plateau of Vicksburg if we don't drive him off."
"Well, we'll do it. You wait till old Joe Johnston comes up. Then we'llshut him between the jaws of a vise and squeeze the life out of him."
"Hope so. Where've you been?"
"Down below the town. I'm coming back with messages."
"So long. Good luck. Keep straight ahead, and you'll find all thegenerals you want."
The lights increased and he went into a small tavern, where he boughtfood and a cup of coffee, paying in gold. The tavern keeper asked noquestions, but his eyes gleamed at sight of the yellow coin.
"Mighty little of this comes my way now," he said frankly, "and ourown money is worth less and less every day. If things keep on the waythey're headed it'll take a bale of it as big as a bale of cotton to payfor one good, square meal."
Dick laughed.
"Not so bad as that," he said. "You wait until we've given Grant a bigthrashing and have cleared their boats out of the river. Then you'll seeour money becoming real."
The man shook his head.
"Seein' will be believin'," he said, "an' as I ain't seein' I ain'tbelievin'."
Dick with a friendly good night went out. Grant, the persistent, wasstill at work. His cannon flared on the dark horizon and the shellscrashed in Vicksburg. Scarcely any portion of the town was safe. Now andthen a house was smashed in and often the shells found victims.
The town was full of terror and confusion. Many of the rich planters hadcome there with their families for refuge. Women and children hid fromthe terrible fire, and the civilians already had begun to burrow. Caveshad been dug deep into the sides of the ravines and hundreds found inthem a rude but safe shelter.
Dick now found that his plans were going wrong. He could wander aboutalmost at will and to any one to whom he spoke he still claimed to bea Tennesseean, but he knew that it could not last forever. Sooner orlater, some officer would question him closely, and then his tale wouldbe too thin for truth.
Unable to make a way toward the river, he returned to the slopes andravines, where they were digging the caves, and then fortune which hadbeen smiling upon him turned its face the other way. A small man inbutternut and an enormous felt hat passed near. He did not see Dick,but his very presence gave the lad a shiver. He believed afterward thatbefore he saw him he had felt the proximity of Slade.
The man, carrying a rifle, was hurrying toward the center of the town,and Dick, after one long look, hurried at equal speed the other way. Heknew that Slade, if he saw him, would recognize him at once. Dusk and amuddy uniform would not protect him.
It was his idea now to go down through the ravines and make anothertrial toward the South. He saw ahead of him a line of intrenchments,which he was resolved to pass in some fashion, but the face of fortunewas still away from him. The unknown officers who at any time might asktoo many questions appeared.
A captain, a sunbrowned, alert man, stopped him at the edge of thebushes which clothed the slopes of the ravine.
"Your regiment?" he asked sharply.
"Tennessee regiment, sir," replied Dick, afraid to mention any number,since this officer might be a Tennesseean himself, and would wantfurther identification. But the man was not to be put off--Dick judgedfrom his uniform that he was a colonel--and demanded sharply hisregiment's number and his business.
The lad mumbled something under his breath, hopeful that he would passon, but the officer stepped forward, looked at him closely and thensuddenly turned back the collar of his army jacket, disclosing a bit ofthe under side yet blue.
"Thunderation, a Yankee spy!" he exclaimed.
Dick always believed that his life was due to a sudden and violentimpulse, or rather a convulsive jerk, because he had no time to think.He threw off the officer's hand, dashed his fist into his face, and,without waiting to see the effect, ran headlong among the bushes downthe side of the ravine. He heard a shouting behind him, the reports ofseveral shots, the rapid tread of feet, and he knew that the man-huntwas on.
He had all the instincts of the hunted to seek cover, and the night washis friend. But few lights glimmered in that portion of Vicksburg, andin many parts of the ravine the bushes were thick. He darted down theslope at great speed, then turned and ran along its side, still keepingwell under cover. Where the shadows were darkest and the bushes thickesthe paused panting.
He heard his pursuers calling to one another, and he also heard theexcited voices of people in the ravine. The civilians had been arousedby the shots so close by and he thought the confusion would help him. Hestood in the deep shadow, his breath gradually growing easier, and thenhe started down the ravine, coming to a little path that led alongthe side of the slope. He noticed a dark opening, and as the voices ofpursuers were now coming nearer, he popped into it, trusting to blindluck.
Dick had thought it was a mere wash-out or deep recess, but at the thirdstep his foot struck upon a carpet and he saw ahead a dim light. Hepaused, amazed, and then he remembered that he had heard about thecivilians digging caves for shelter from the shells and bombs. Evidentlysome forethoughtful man had prepared his cave early.
Uncertain what to do he did nothing, pressing his back against the earthand listening. No sound came, and the dim light still flickering aheadreassured him.
The opening through which he had come was large, and admitted plentyof fresh air. As he stood four or five feet from the entrance he sawseveral soldiers hurrying along the path, and he knew they were huntingfor him. He realized then his fortune in finding this improvisedcave-house. After the soldiers passed he walked gently toward the light.Apparently the regular occupants were gone away for the time, and hemight find a hiding place there until it was safe to go out.
The passage was narrow, but the carpet was still under his feet, andfurther in, the sides and roof of the earthen walls had been coveredwith planks. The light grew brighter and he was quite sure that a roomof some size was just ahead. His curiosity became so great that itsmothered all apprehension, and he stepped boldly into the room, wherethe lamp burned on a table.
He would have stepped back as quickly, but a pair of great burning eyescaught his and held them. A bed was standing against the board wall ofthe cave, and in this bed lay an old man with a huge bald head, immensewhite eyebrows and eyes of extraordinary intensity.
Once more did Colonel Charles Woodville and Richard Mason stare into theeyes of each other, and for a long time neither spoke.
"I managed to escape from Jackson with my little family," said thecolonel at length, "and I thought that in this, so to say, sylvanretreat I might drop all undesirable acquaintances that I made there."
The whole scene was grotesque and wild to Dick. It was like a passageout of the Arabian Nights, and an extraordinary spirit of reckl
essnessseized him.
"I appreciate your words, sir," he said, "and I can understand yourfeelings. I have felt myself that it was never wise to go where onemight not be welcome, and yet chance plays us such tricks that neitheryour wish nor mine is granted."
The old man then raised his head a little higher on the pillow. A sparkleaped from the burning eyes.
"A lad of spirit," he said. "I would not withhold praise where praiseis due. I recall meeting some one who resembled you very much. Perhaps abrother of yours, eh?"
"No, he was not my brother."
"Well, it does not matter and we will not pursue the subject. How doesit happen that you have come into this hillside castle of mine?"
Young Mason saw a flicker of amusement in the eyes of the old man. Hewas aware that in his muddy uniform he made no imposing figure, buthis spirit was as high as ever, and the touch of recklessness was stillthere.
"I saw some men coming down the path," he replied; "men with whom I donot care to associate, and I turned aside to avoid them. I beheldthe open door and stepped within, but I did not know the chamber wasoccupied, and it was far from my purpose to intrude upon you or any one.I trust, sir, that you will believe me."
The lad took off his cap and bowed. His face was now revealed moreclearly, and it was a fine one, splendidly molded, intellectual, andwith noble blue eyes. After all, despite the mud and stains, he made agraceful figure as he stood there, so obviously confident of himself,but respectful.
The spark leaped again from the eyes of Colonel Woodville, and,remembering something, there was a slight warmth about the heart whichlately had been so cold and bitter.
"I do not blame you," he said. "A lad, one in his formative years,cannot be too careful about his associates. Doubtless you were justifiedin taking advantage of the open door. But now that you are here may Iask you what you purpose next to do?"
"I admit, sir, that the question is natural," replied Dick, suiting histone and manner to those of the old man. "I have scarcely had time yetto form a purpose, but, since the danger of contamination of which wespoke still exists, it occurs to me that perhaps I might stay here awhile. Is there some nook or a cover in which I might rest? I hope I donot trespass too much upon your hospitality."
Colonel Woodville pondered. His great white eyebrows were drawn togetherand, for a moment or two, he gazed down the beak of his nose.
"I confess," he said, "that the appeal to hospitality moves me. I amstirred somewhat, too, by pleasant recollections of the lad who lookedlike you. But wait, my daughter is coming. We will confer with her.Margaret is a most capable woman."
Dick heard a light step in the passage and he wheeled quickly. MissWoodville was before him, a plain, elderly figure in a plain blackdress, with a basket on her arm. The basket contained a fowl and someeggs which she had just bought at a great price. When she saw Dick herhand flew to her throat, but when the pulse ceased to beat so hard itcame away and she looked at him fixedly. Then a slow smile like the dawnspread over the severe, worn face.
"Come in, Margaret, and put down your basket," said the colonel in agenial tone. "Meanwhile bid welcome to our unexpected guest, a young manof spirit and quality with whom I was holding converse before you came.He does not wish to go out to-night, because there are many violent menabroad, and he would avoid them."
Then he turned to Dick, and asked in a tone, sharp and commanding:
"I have your word, young sir, that your unexpected visit to our city wasnot of a secret nature; that is, it was not of a lawless character?"
"An accident, sir, an accident pure and simple. I answer you on myhonor. I have seen nothing and I shall not seek to see anything which Ishould not see."
"Margaret," continued the colonel, and now his tone became deferentialas behooved a gentleman speaking to a lady, "shall we ask him to shareour simple quarters to-night?"
The lad slowly turned his gaze to the face of the woman. He felt withall the power of intuition that his fate rested on her decision. But shewas a woman. And she was, too, a true daughter of her father. A kindredspark leaped up in her own soul, and she met Dick's gaze. She notedhis fearless poise, and she saw the gallant spirit in his eye. Then sheturned to her father.
"I think you wish him to stay, sir," she said, "and the wish seems rightto me. Our narrow quarters limit our hospitality in quality, but notin intent. We can offer him nothing but the little alcove behind theblanket."
She inclined her head toward the blanket, which Dick had not noticedbefore. It hung near the bed and, wishing to cause this household littletrouble, he said:
"Then I assume that you will shelter me for the night, and, if I may, Iwill go at once to my room."
Colonel Woodville lowered his head upon the pillow and laughed softly.
"A lad of spirit. A lad of spirit, I repeat," he said. "No, Margaret,you and I could not have turned him from our earthen roof."
Dick bowed to Miss Woodville, and that little ghost of a tender smileflitted about her thin lips. Then he lifted the blanket, stepped intothe dark, and let the curtain fall behind him.
He stood for a space until his eyes, used to the dusk, could see dimly.It was a tiny room evidently used as a place of storage for clothing andbedding, but there was space enough for him to lie down, if he bent hisknees a little.
The strain upon both muscle and nerve had been very great, and now camecollapse. Removing his shoes and outer clothing he dropped upon aroll of bedding and closed his eyes. But he was grateful, deeply andlastingly grateful. The bread that he had cast upon the waters wasreturning to him fourfold.
He heard low voices beyond the blanket, and he did not doubt that theywere those of Colonel Woodville and his daughter. The woman in plainblack, with the basket on her arm, had seemed a pathetic figure to him.He could not blame them for feeling such intense bitterness. What werethe causes of the war to people who had been driven from a luxurioushome to a hole in the side of a ravine?
He slept, and when he woke it seemed to be only a moment later, but heknew from the slender edge of light appearing where the blanket justfailed to touch the floor that morning had come. He moved gently lesthe disturb his host in the larger room without, and then he heard thedistant thunder, which he knew was the booming of Grant's great guns.And so the night had not stopped them! All through the hours that heslept the cannon had rained steel and death on Vicksburg. Then came agreat explosion telling him that a shell had burst somewhere near. Itwas followed by the voice of Colonel Woodville raised in high, indignanttones:
"Can't they let a gentleman sleep? Must they wake him with one of theirinfernal shells?"
He heard a slight rustling sound and he knew that it was the great baldhead moving impatiently on the pillows. Inferring that it was early, hewould have gone back to sleep himself, but slumber would not come. Heremained a while, thoughtful, for his future lay very heavy upon him,and then he heard the sound of several voices beyond the blanket.
He listened closely, trying to number and distinguish them. There werethree and two belonged to Colonel Woodville and his daughter. The thirdrepelled and puzzled him. It seemed to have in it a faint quality of thefox. It was not loud, and yet that light, snarling, sinister note wasevident.
The sensitive, attuned mind can be easily affected by a voice, and themenace of the unknown beyond the blanket deepened. Dick felt a curiousprickling at the roots of his hair. He listened intently, but he couldnot understand anything that was spoken, and then he drew himselfforward with great caution.
They must be talking about something of importance, because the voiceswere earnest, and sometimes all three spoke at once. He reached a slowhand toward the blanket. The danger would be great, but he must see.
He drew back the blanket slightly, a quarter of an inch, maybe, andlooked within the room. Then he saw the owner of the sinister voice, andhe felt that he might have known from the first.
Slade, standing before Colonel Woodville's bed, his hat in his hand, wastalking eagerly.
The Rock of Chickamauga: A Story of the Western Crisis Page 11