Mohun; Or, the Last Days of Lee and His Paladins.

by John Esten Cooke

  "When I told him what had taken place, he laughed.

  "'Well, colonel, go back to bed,' he said, 'such dreams retard yourrecovery more than every thing else.'

  "I obeyed, without taking the trouble to contradict him. My breast wasbleeding again, and I did not get over the excitement for some days. Thephantom did not return. I slowly recovered, and was taken in due time toFort Delaware--the rest you know.

  "I forgot to tell you one thing. The surgeon almost persuaded me that Ihad been the victim of nightmare. Unfortunately, however, for the theoryof the worthy, I found a deep hole in my pillow, where the poniard hadentered.

  "So you see it was madam, and not her ghost, who had done me the honorof a visit, Surry."

  XXIII.

  THE GRAVE OF ACHMED.

  An hour afterward I had dined with Mohun at his head-quarters, in thewoods; mounted our horses; and were making our way toward the Rapidan toinspect the pickets.

  This consumed two hours. We found nothing stirring. As sunsetapproached, we retraced our steps toward Chancellorsville. I hadaccepted Mohun's invitation to spend the night with him.

  As I rode on, the country seemed strangely familiar. All at once Irecognized here a tree, there a stump--we were passing over the roadwhich I had followed first in April, 1861, and again in August, 1862,when I came so unexpectedly upon Fenwick, and heard his singularrevelation.

  We had been speaking of Mordaunt, to whose brigade Mohun's regimentbelonged, and the young officer had grown enthusiastic, extollingMordaunt as 'one of the greatest soldiers of the army, under whom it wasan honor to serve.'

  "Well," I said, "there is a spot near here which he knows well, andwhere a strange scene passed on a night of May, 1863."

  "Ah! you know the country, then?" said Mohun.

  "Perfectly well."

  "What are you looking at?"

  "That hill yonder, shut in by a thicket. There is a house there."

  And I spurred on, followed by Mohun. In five minutes we reached thebrush-fence; our horses easily cleared it, and we rode up the hilltoward the desolate-looking mansion.

  I surveyed it intently. It was unchanged, save that the porch seemedrotting away, and the window-shutters about to fall--that on the windowto the right hung by a single hinge. It was the one through which Ihad looked in August, 1862. There was the same door through which I hadburst in upon Fenwick and his companion.

  I dismounted, threw my bridle over a stunted shrub, and approached thehouse. Suddenly I stopped.

  At ten paces from me, in a little group of cedars, a man was kneeling ona grave, covered with tangled grass. At the rattle of my sabre he rose,turned round--it was Mordaunt.

  In a moment we had exchanged a pressure of the hand; and then turning tothe grave:--

  "That is the last resting-place of poor Achmed," he said; adding, in hisdeep, grave voice:--

  "You know how he loved me, Surry."

  "And how you loved _him_, Mordaunt. I can understand your presence athis grave, my dear friend."

  Mordaunt sighed, then saluted Mohun, who approached.

  "This spot," he said, "is well known to Colonel Surry and myself,Mohun."

  Then turning to me, he added:--

  "I found a melancholy spectacle awaiting me here."

  "Other than Achmed's grave?"

  "Yes; come, and I will show you."

  And he led the way into the house. As I entered the squalid andmiserable mansion, the sight which greeted me made me recoil.

  On a wretched bed lay the corpse of a woman; and at a glance, Irecognized the woman Parkins, who had played so tragic a part in thehistory of Mordaunt. The face was hideously attenuated; the eyes wereopen and staring; the lower jaw had fallen. In the rigid and bony handwas a dry and musty crust of bread.

  "She must have starved to death here," said Mordaunt, gazing at thecorpse. And, approaching it, he took the crust from the fingers. As hedid so, the teeth seemed grinning at him.

  "Poor creature!" he said; "this crust was probably all that remainedto her of the price of her many crimes! I pardon her, and will have herburied!"

  As Mordaunt turned away, I saw him look at the floor.

  "There is Achmed's blood," he said, pointing to a stain on the plank;"and the other is the blood of Fenwick, who was buried near his victim."

  "I remember," I murmured. And letting my chin fall upon my breast, Ireturned in thought to the strange scene which the spot recalled sovividly.

  "There is but one other actor in that drama of whom I know nothing,Mordaunt!"

  "You mean--"

  "Violet Grafton."

  Mordaunt raised his head quickly. His eyes glowed with a serenesweetness.

  "She is my wife," he said; "the joy and sunlight of my life! I no longerread _Les Miserables_, and sneer at my species--I no longer scowl,Surry, and try to rush against the bullet that is to end me. God hasrescued a lost life in sending me one of his angels; and it was shewho made me promise to come hither and pray on the grave of our dearAchmed!"

  Mordaunt turned toward the door as he spoke, and inviting me to ridewith him, left the mansion. As I had agreed to stay with Mohun, I wasobliged to decline.

  Five minutes afterward he had mounted, and with a salute, the tall formdisappeared in the forest.

  We set out in turn, and were soon at Mohun's bivouac.

  XXIV.

  A NIGHT BIRD.

  I shared Mohun's blankets, and was waked by the sun shining in my face.

  My companion had disappeared, but I had scarcely risen when he was seenapproaching at full gallop.

  Throwing himself from his horse, he grasped my hand, his face beaming.

  "All right, Surry!" he exclaimed; "I have seen Mordaunt; my command isall arranged; I have four superb regiments; and they are already in thesaddle."

  "I congratulate you, my dear general! Make good use of them--and I thinkyou are going to have the opportunity at once."

  "You are right--the enemy's cavalry are drawn up on the north bank ofthe river."

  "Any firing in front?"

  "They are feeling at all the fords."

  "Are you going there?"

  "At once."

  "I will go with you."

  And I mounted my horse which stood saddled near by.

  Swallowing some mouthfuls of bread and beef as we rode on, we soonreached Mohun's command. It consisted of four regiments, drawn up incolumn, ready to move--and at sight of the young _sabreur_, the menraised a shout.

  Mohun saluted with drawn sabre, and galloped to the front.

  A moment afterward the bugle sounded, and the column advanced towardthe Rapidan, within a mile of which it halted--Mohun and myself ridingforward to reconnoitre at Germanna Ford, directly in our front.

  The pickets were engaged, firing at each other across the river. On thenorthern bank were seen long columns of Federal cavalry, drawn up asthough about to cross.

  I rode with Mohun to the summit of the lofty hill near the ford, andhere, seated on his horse beneath a tree, we found Mordaunt. It washard to realize that, on the evening before, I had seen this stern andmartial figure, kneeling in prayer upon a grave--had heard the briefdeep voice grow musical when he spoke of his wife. But habit is everything. On the field, Mordaunt was the soldier, and nothing but thesoldier.

  "You see," he said, "the game is about to open," pointing to the Federalcavalry. "You remember this spot, and that hill yonder, I think."

  "Yes," I replied, "and your charge there when we captured theirartillery in August, '62."

  As he spoke, a dull firing, which we had heard for some moments fromthe direction of Ely's Ford, grew more rapid. Five minutes afterward, anofficer was seen approaching from the side of the firing, at full speed.

  When he was within a hundred yards, I recognized Harry Mordaunt. He wasunchanged; his eyes still sparkled, his plume floated, his lips weresmiling.

  He greeted me warmly, and then turned to General Mordaunt, and reportedthe enemy attempting to cross at Ely's.


  "I will go, then; will you ride with me, Surry? Keep a good look outhere, Mohun."

  I accepted Mordaunt's invitation, and in a moment we were galloping,accompanied by Harry, toward Ely's.

  "Glad to see you again, colonel!" exclaimed the young man, in his gayvoice, "you remind me of old times, and a young lady was speaking of youlately."

  "A certain Miss Fitzhugh, I will wager!"

  "There's no such person, colonel."

  "Ah! you are married!"

  "Last spring; but I might as well be single! That's the worst of thisfoolishness,--I wish they would stop it! I don't mind hard tack, orfighting, or sleeping in the rain; what I do mind is never being able togo home! I wish old Grant would go home and see _his_ wife, and let mego and see _mine_! We could then come back, and blaze away at each otherwith some satisfaction!"

  Harry was chattering all the way, and I encouraged him to talk; hisgay voice was delightful. We talked of a thousand things, but theyinterested me more than they would interest the reader, and I pass on tomatters more important.

  Pushing rapidly toward Ely's, we soon arrived, and found the enemymaking a heavy demonstration there. It lasted throughout the day, and Iremained to witness the result. At sunset, however, the firing stopped,and, declining Mordaunt's invitation to share the blankets of hisbivouac, I set out on my way back to Orange.

  Night came almost before I was aware of it, and found me following theBrock road to get on the Orange plank road.

  Do you know the Brock road, reader? and have you ever ridden over it ona lowering night? If so, you have experienced a peculiar sensation. Itis impossible to imagine any thing more lugubrious than these strangethickets. In their depths the owl hoots, and the whippoorwill cries; thestunted trees, with their gnarled branches, are like fiends reachingout spectral arms to seize the wayfarer by the hair. Desolation reignsthere, and you unconsciously place your hand on your pistol as you ridealong, to be ready for some mysterious and unseen enemy.

  At least, I did so on that night. I had now penetrated some distance,and had come near the lonely house where so many singular events hadoccurred.

  I turned my head and glanced over my shoulder, when, to my surprise,I saw a light glimmering through the window. What was its origin? Thehouse was certainly uninhabited, even by the dead--for Mordaunt hadinformed me that a detail had, that morning, buried the corpse.

  There was but one means of solving the mystery, and I leaped the fence,riding straight toward the house; soon reaching it, I dismounted andthrew open the door.

  What should greet my eyes, but the respectable figure of Mr. Nighthawk,seated before a cheerful blaze, and calmly smoking his pipe!

  XXV.

  THE APPOINTMENT.

  As I entered, Mr. Nighthawk rose politely, without exhibiting the leastmark of astonishment.

  "Good evening, colonel," he said, smiling, "I am glad to see you."

  "And I, never more surprised to see any one than you, here, Nighthawk!"

  "Why so, colonel?"

  I could not help laughing at his air of mild inquiry.

  "Did I not leave you at our head-quarters?"

  "That was two days ago, colonel."

  "And this is your residence, perhaps?"

  "I have no residence, colonel; but am here, temporarily, on a littlematter of business."

  "Ah! a matter of business!"

  "I think it might be called so, colonel."

  "Which it would be indiscreet to reveal to me, however. That is a pity,for I am terribly curious, my dear Nighthawk!"

  Nighthawk looked at me benignly, with a philanthropic smile.

  "I have not the least objection to informing you, colonel. You are agentleman of discretion, and have another claim on my respect."

  "What is that?"

  "You are a friend of Colonel Mohun's."

  "A very warm one."

  "Then you can command me; and I will tell you at once that I am awaitingthe advance of General Grant."

  "Ah! Now I begin to understand."

  "I was sure you would at the first word I uttered, colonel. GeneralGrant will cross the Rapidan to-night--by to-morrow evening his wholeforce will probably be over--and I expect to procure some importantinformation before I return to General Stuart. To you I am Mr.Nighthawk, an humble friend of the cause, employed in secretbusiness,--to General Grant I shall be an honest farmer, of Unionopinions, who has suffered from the depredations of his troops, and goesto head-quarters for redress. You see they have already stripped me ofevery thing," continued Mr. Nighthawk, waving his arm and smiling; "nota cow, a hog, a mule, or a mouthful of food has been left me. They havedestroyed the very furniture of my modest dwelling, and I am cast, amere pauper, on the cold charities of the world!"

  Mr. Nighthawk had ceased smiling, and looked grave; while it was Iwho burst into laughter. His eyes were raised toward heaven, withan expression of meek resignation; he spread out both hands with theeloquence of Mr. Pecksniff; and presented the appearance of a virtuouscitizen accepting meekly the most trying misfortunes.

  When I had ceased laughing, I said:--

  "I congratulate you on your histrionic abilities, Nighthawk. Theydeserve to be crowned with success. But how did you discover thishouse?"

  "I was acquainted with its former owner, Mrs. Parkins. She was a sisterof a friend of mine, whom I think you have seen, colonel."

  "What friend?"

  "His name is Swartz, colonel."

  "Not the Federal spy?"

  "The same, colonel."

  "Whom we saw last in the house between Carlisle and Gettysburg?"

  "I saw him the other day," returned Mr. Nighthawk, smiling sweetly.

  "Is it possible!"

  "Near Culpeper Court-House, colonel. And, to let you into a littlesecret, I expect to see him to-night."

  I looked at the speaker with bewilderment.

  "That man will be here!"

  "If he keeps his appointment, colonel."

  "You have an appointment?"

  "Yes, colonel."

  "In this house?"

  "To-night."

  "With what object, in heaven's name!"

  Nighthawk hesitated for some moments before replying.

  "The fact is, colonel," he said, "that I inadvertently mentioned myappointment with Swartz without reflecting how singular it must appearto you, unless I gave you some explanation. But I am quite at my easewith you--you are a friend of Colonel Mohun's--and I will explain, asmuch of my business as propriety will permit. To be brief, I am anxiousto procure a certain document in Swartz's possession."

  "A certain document?" I said, looking intently at the speaker.

  "Exactly, colonel."

  "Which Swartz has?"

  "Precisely, colonel."

  "And which he stole from the papers of Colonel Darke on the night ofMohun's combat with Darke, in the house near Carlisle?"

  Mr. Nighthawk looked keenly at me, in turn.

  "Ah! you know that!" he said, quickly.

  "I saw him steal it, through the window, while the woman's back wasturned."

  "I am deeply indebted to you, colonel," said Mr. Nighthawk, gravely,"for informing me of this fact, which, I assure you, is important.Swartz swore to me that he had the paper, and had procured it in thatmanner, but I doubted seriously whether he was not deceiving me. He isa _very_ consummate rascal, knows the value of that document, and myappointment with him to-night is with an eye to its purchase from him."

  "Do you think he will come?"

  "I think so. He would sell his soul for gold."

  "And that woman? he seems to be her friend."

  "He would sell _her_ for _silver_!"

  After uttering which _bon mot_, Mr. Nighthawk smiled.

  This man puzzled me beyond expression. His stealthy movements werestrange enough--it was singular to meet him in this lonely house--butmore singular still was the business which had brought him. What wasthat paper? Why did Nighthawk wish to secure it? I gave up the inqui
ryin despair.

  "Well," I said, "I will not remain longer; I might scare off yourfriend, and to eaves-drop is out of the question, even if you werewilling that I should be present."

  "In fact, colonel, I shall probably discuss some very private matterswith my friend Swartz, so that--"

  "You prefer I should go."

  Mr. Nighthawk smiled; he was too polite to say "yes."

  "You are not afraid to meet your friend in this lonely place?" I said,rising.

  "Not at all, colonel."

  "You are armed?"

  Mr. Nighthawk opened his coat, and showed me a brace of revolvers.

  "I have these; but they are unnecessary, colonel."

  "Unnecessary?"

  "I have an understanding with Swartz, and he with me."

  "What is that?"

  "That we shall not employ the carnal weapon; only destroy each other bysuperior generalship."

  "You speak in enigmas, Nighthawk!"

  "And yet, my meaning is very simple. If I can have Swartz arrested andhung, or he me, it is all fair. But we have agreed not to fight."

  "So, if you caught him to-night, you could have him hung as a spy?"

  "Yes, colonel; but nothing would induce me to betray him."