"Ah!"
"I have given him my parol, that he shall have safe conduct!"
I laughed, bade Nighthawk good-bye, and left him smiling as I had foundhim. In ten minutes I was again on the Brock road, riding on through thedarkness, between the impenetrable thickets.
XXVI.
STUART SINGS.
My reflections were by no means gay. The scenes at the lonely house hadnot been cheerful and mirth-inspiring.
That grinning corpse, with the crust of bread in the bony fingers;that stain of blood on the floor; the grave of Achmed; lastly, theappointment of the mysterious Nighthawk with the Federal spy; all werefantastic and lugubrious.
Who was Nighthawk, and what was his connection with Mohun? Who wasMohun, and what had been his previous history? Who was this youth ofunbounded wealth, as Nighthawk had intimated, in whose life personagessupposed to be dead, but still alive, had figured?
"Decidedly, Mohun and Nighthawk are two enigmas!" I muttered, "and Igive the affair up."
With which words I spurred on, and soon debouched on the Orange plankroad, leading toward Mine Run.
As I entered it, I heard hoof-strokes on the resounding boards, and acompany of horsemen cantered toward me through the darkness. As theycame, I heard a gay voice singing the lines:--
"I wake up in the morning, I wake up in the morning, I wake up in the morning, Before the break o' day!"
There was no mistaking that gay sound. It was Stuart, riding at the headof his staff and couriers.
In a moment he had come up, and promptly halted me.
"Ah! that's you, Surry!" he exclaimed with a laugh, "wandering abouthere in the Wilderness! What news?"
I reported the state of things in front, and Stuart exclaimed:--
"All right; we are ready for them! Coon Hollow isevacuated--head-quarters are in the saddle! Hear that whippoorwill! Itis a good omen. Whip 'em well! Whip 'em well!--and we'll do it too!"[1]Stuart laughed, and began to sing--
"Never mind the weather But get over double trouble! We are bound for the Happy land of Lincoln!"
[Footnote 1: His words.]
As the martial voice rang through the shadowy thickets, I thought,"How fortunate it is that the grave people are not here to witness thissingular 'want of dignity' in the great commander of Lee's cavalry!"
Those "grave people" would certainly have rolled their eyes, andgroaned, "Oh! how undignified!" Was not the occasion solemn? Was it notsinful to laugh and sing? No, messieurs! It was right; and much betterthan rolling the eyes, and staying at home and groaning! Stuart wasgoing to fight hard--meanwhile he sang gayly. Heaven had given himanimal spirits, and he laughed in the face of danger. He laughed andsang on this night when he was going to clash against Grant, as he hadlaughed and sung when he had clashed against Hooker--when his proudplume floated in front of Jackson's veterans, and he led them over thebreastworks at Chancellorsville, singing, "Old Joe Hooker, will you comeout of the Wilderness!"
Stuart cantered on: we turned into the Brock road, and I found myselfretracing my steps toward the Rapidan.
As I passed near the lonely house, I cast a glance toward the glimmeringlight. Had Nighthawk's friend arrived?
We soon reached Ely's Ford, and I conducted Stuart to Mordaunt'sbivouac, which I had left at dusk. He had just wrapped his cloak aroundhim, and laid down under a tree, ready to mount at a moment's warning.
"What news, Mordaunt?" said Stuart, grasping his hand.
"Some fighting this evening, but it ceased about nightfall, general."
Stuart looked toward the river, and listened attentively.
"I hear nothing stirring."
And passing his hand through his beard he muttered half to himself:--
"I wonder if Grant can have made any change in his programme?"
"The order at least was explicit--that brought by Nighthawk," I said.
Stuart turned toward me suddenly.
"I wonder where he could be found? If I knew, I would send him over theriver to-night, to bring me a reliable report of every thing."
I drew the general aside.
"I can tell you where to find Nighthawk."
"Where."
"Shall I bring him?"
"Like lightning, Surry! I wish to dispatch him at once!"
Without reply I wheeled my horse, and went back rapidly toward the housein the Wilderness. I soon reached the spot, rode to the window, andcalled to Nighthawk, who came out promptly at my call.
"Your friend has not arrived?" I said.
"He will not come till midnight, colonel."
"When, I am afraid, he will not see you, Nighthawk--you are wanted."
And I explained my errand. Nighthawk sighed--it was easy to see that hewas much disappointed.
"Well, colonel," he said, in a resigned tone, "I must give up my privatebusiness--duty calls. I will be ready in a moment."
And disappearing, he put out the light--issued forth in rear of thehouse--mounted a horse concealed in the bushes--and rejoined me infront.
"Swartz will not know what to think," he said, as we rode rapidly towardthe river; "he knows I am the soul of punctuality, and this failure tokeep my appointment will much distress him."
"Distress him, Nighthawk?"
"He will think some harm has happened to me."
And Mr. Nighthawk smiled so sadly, that I could not refrain fromlaughter.
We soon reached the spot where Stuart awaited us. At sight of Nighthawkhe uttered an exclamation of satisfaction, and explained in brief wordshis wishes.
"That will be easy, general," said Nighthawk.
"Can you procure a Federal uniform?"
"I always travel with one, general."
And Mr. Nighthawk unstrapped the bundle behind his saddle, drawing fortha blue coat and trousers, which in five minutes had replaced his blackclothes. Before us stood one of the "blue birds." Nighthawk was anunmistakable "Yankee."
Stuart gave him a few additional instructions, and having listened withthe air of a man who is engraving the words he hears upon his memory,Nighthawk disappeared in the darkness, toward the private crossing,where he intended to pass the river.
Half an hour afterward, Stuart was riding toward Germanna Ford. As weapproached, Mohun met us, and reported all quiet.
Stuart then turned back in the direction of Chancellorsville, whereNighthawk was to report to him, before daylight, if possible.
XXVII.
MOHUN RIDES.
I lingered behind a moment to exchange a few words with Mohun. Somethingtold me that he was intimately connected with the business which hadoccasioned the appointment between Nighthawk and Swartz--and at thefirst words which I uttered, I saw that I was not mistaken.
Mohun raised his head quickly, listened with the closest attention, andwhen I had informed him of every thing, said abruptly:--
"Well, I'll keep Nighthawk's appointment for him!"
"You!" I said.
"Yes, my dear Surry--this is a matter of more importance than you think.The business will not take long--the enemy will not be moving beforedaylight--and you said, I think, that the appointment was for midnight?"
"Yes."
Mohun drew out his watch; scratched a match which he drew from a smallmetal case.
"Just eleven," he said; "there is time to arrive before midnight, if weride well--will you show me the way?"
I saw that he was bent on his scheme, and said no more. In a few momentswe were in the saddle, and riding at full speed toward the house wherethe meeting was to take place.
Mohun rode like the wild huntsman, and mile after mile disappearedbehind us--flitting away beneath the rapid hoofs of our horses. Duringthe whole ride he scarcely opened his lips. He seemed to be reflectingdeeply, and to scarcely realize my presence.
At last we turned into the Brock road, and were soon near the lonelyhouse.
"We have arrived," I said, leaping the brushwood fence. And we gallopedup the knoll toward the house, which was as dark and
silent as thegrave.
Dismounting and concealing our horses in the bushes, we opened the door.Mohun again had recourse to his match-case, and lit the candle left byNighthawk on an old pine table, and glanced at his watch.
"Midnight exactly!" he said; "we have made a good ride of it, Surry."
"Yes; and now that I have piloted you safely, Mohun, I will discreetlyretire."
"Why not remain, if you think it will amuse you, my dear friend?"
"But you are going to discuss your private affairs, are you not?"
"They are not private from you, since I have promised to relate my wholelife to you."
"Then I remain; but do you think our friend will keep his appointment?"
"There he is," said Mohun, as hoof-strokes were heard without. "He ispunctual."
XXVIII.
THE SPY.
A moment afterward we heard the new-comer dismount. Then his stepswere heard on the small porch. All at once his figure appeared in thedoorway.
It was Swartz. The fat person, the small eyes, the immense double chin,and the chubby fingers covered with pinchbeck rings, were unmistakable.
He was clad in citizens' clothes, and covered with dust as from a longride.
Mohun rose.
"Come in, my dear Mr. Swartz," he said coolly; "you see we await you."
The spy recoiled. It was plain that he was astonished beyond measure atseeing us. He threw a glance behind him in the direction of his horse,and seemed about to fly.
Mohun quietly drew his revolver, and cocked it.
"Fear nothing, my dear sir," he said, "and, above all, do not attempt toescape."
Swartz hesitated, and cast an uneasy glance upon the weapon.
"Does the sight of this little instrument annoy you?" said Mohun,laughing. "It shall not be guilty of that impoliteness, Mr. Swartz."
And he uncocked the weapon, and replaced it in its holster.
"Now," he continued, "sit down, and let us talk."
Swartz obeyed. Before Mohun's penetrating glance, his own sank. Hetook his seat in a broken-backed chair; drew forth a huge red bandannahandkerchief; wiped his forehead; and said quietly:--
"I expected to meet a friend here to-night, gentlemen, instead of--"
"Enemies?" interrupted Mohun. "We are such, it is true, my dear sir,but you are quite safe. Your friend Nighthawk is called away; he is evenignorant of our presence here."
"But meeting him would have been different, gentlemen. I had his safeconduct!"
"You shall have it from me."
"May I ask from whom?" said Swartz.
"From General Mohun, of the Confederate army."
Swartz smiled this time; then making a grotesque bow, he replied:--
"I knew you very well, general--that is why I am so much at my ease. Iam pleased to hear that you are promoted. When I last saw you, you wereonly a colonel, but I was certain that you would soon be promoted orkilled."
There was a queer accent of politeness in the voice of the speaker.He did not seem to have uttered these words in order to flatterhis listener, but to express his real sentiment. He was evidently acharacter.
"Good!" said Mohun, with his habitual accent of satire. "These littlecompliments are charming. But I am in haste to-night--let us come tobusiness, my dear sir. I came hither to ask you some questions, and tothese I expect plain replies."
Swartz looked at the speaker intently, but without suspicion. Hisglance, on the contrary, had in it something strangely open andunreserved.
"I will reply to all your questions, general," he said, "and replytruthfully. I have long expected this interview, and will even say thatI wished it. You look on me as a Yankee spy, and will have but littleconfidence in what I say. Nevertheless, I am going to tell you the wholetruth about every thing. Ask your questions, general, I will answerthem."
Mohun was leaning one elbow on the broken table. His glance, calm andyet fiery, seemed bent on penetrating to the most secret recess of thespy's heart.
"Well," he said, "now that we begin to understand each other, letus come to the point at once. Where were you on the morning of thethirteenth of December, 1856?"
Swartz replied without hesitation:--
"On the bank of Nottoway River, in Dinwiddie, Virginia, and bound forPetersburg."
"The object of your journey?"
"To sell dried fruits and winter vegetables."
"Then you travelled in a cart, or a wagon?"
"In a cart, general."
"You reached Petersburg without meeting with any incident on the way?"
"I met with two very curious ones, general. I see you know somethingabout the affair, and are anxious to know every thing. I will tell youthe whole truth; but it will be best to let me do it in my own way."
"Do so, then," said Mohun, fixing his eyes more intently upon the spy.
Swartz was silent again for more than a minute, gazing on the floor.Then he raised his head, passed his red handkerchief over his brow, andsaid:--
"To begin at the beginning, general. At the time you speak of, December,1856, I was a small landholder in Dinwiddie, and made my living bycarting vegetables and garden-truck to Petersburg. Well, one morningin winter--you remind me that it was the thirteenth of December,--Iset out, as usual, in my cart drawn by an old mule, with a good load onboard, to go by way of Monk's Neck. I had not gone two miles, however,when passing through a lonely piece of woods on the bank of the river,I heard a strange cry in the brush. It was the most startling you canthink of, and made my heart stop beating. I jumped down from my cart,left it standing in the narrow road, and went to the spot. It was astrange sight I saw. On the bank of the river, I saw a woman lyingdrenched with water, and half-dead. She was richly dressed, and of verygreat beauty--but I never saw any human face so pale, or clothes moretorn and draggled."
The spy paused. Mohun shaded his eyes from the light, with his hands,and said coolly:--
"Go on."
"Well, general--that was enough to astonish anybody--and what is moreastonishing still, I have never to this day discovered the meaning ofthe woman's being there--for it was plain that she was a lady. She washalf-dead with cold, and had cried out in what seemed to be a sort ofdelirium. When I raised her up, and wrung the wet out of her clothes,she looked at me so strangely that I was frightened. I asked her how shehad come there, but she made no reply. Where should I take her? She madeno reply to that either. She seemed dumb--out of her wits--and, to makea long story short, I half led and half carried her to the cart in whichI put her, making a sort of bed for her of some old bags.
"I set out on my way again, without having the least notion what Ishould do with her--for she seemed a lady--and only with a sort of ideathat her friends might probably pay me for my trouble, some day.
"Well, I went on for a mile or two farther, when a new adventurehappened to me. That was stranger still--it was like a story-book; andyou will hardly believe me--but as I was going through a piece of woods,following a by-road by which I cut off a mile or more, I heard groansnear the road, and once more stopped my cart. Then I listened. I wasscared, and began to believe in witchcraft. The groans came from thewoods on my left, and there was no doubt about the sound--so, havinglistened for some time, I mustered courage to go in the direction of thesound. Can you think what I found, general?"
"What?" said Mohun, in the same cool voice; "tell me."
"A man lying in a grave;--a real grave, general--broad and deep--a manwith a hole through his breast, and streaming with blood."
"Is it possible?"
And Mohun uttered a laugh.
"Just as I tell you, general--it is the simple, naked truth. When I gotto the place, he was struggling to get out of the grave, and his breastwas bleeding terribly. I never saw a human being look paler. 'Help!' hecried out, in a suffocated voice like, when he saw me--and as he spoke,he made such a strong effort to rise, that his wound gushed with blood,and he fainted."
"He fainted, did he? And what did you do?" said Mohun.
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"I took him up in my arms, general, as I had taken the woman, carriedhim to my cart, when I bound up his breast in the best way I could, andlaid him by the side of the half-drowned lady."
"To get a reward from _his_ friends, too, no doubt?"
"Well, general, we must live, you know. And did I not deserve somethingfor being so scared--and for the use of my mule?"
"Certainly you did. Is not the laborer worthy of his hire? But go on,sir--your tale is interesting."
"Tale, general? It is the truth--on the word of Swartz!"
"I no longer doubt now, if I did before," said Mohun; "but tell me theend of your adventure."
"I can do that in a few words, general. I whipped up my old mule, andwent on through the woods, thinking what I had best do with the manand the woman I had saved, I could take them to Petersburg, and tell mystory to the mayor or some good citizen, who would see that they weretaken care of. But as soon as I said 'mayor' to myself, I thought 'he isthe chief of police.' _Police_!--that is one of the ugliest words in thelanguage, general! Some people shiver, and their flesh crawls, when youcut a cork, or scratch on a window pane--well, it is strange, but I havealways felt in that way when I heard, or thought of, the word, _police_!And here I was going to have dealings with the said _police_! I wasgoing to say 'I found these people on the Nottoway--one half-drowned,and the other in a newly dug grave!' No, I thank you! We never know whatour characters will stand, and I was by no means certain that mine wouldstand that! Then the reward--I wished to have my lady and gentlemanunder my eye. So, after thinking over the matter for some miles, Idetermined to leave them with a crony of mine near Monk's Neck, namedAlibi, who would take care of them and say nothing. Well, I did so, andwent on to Petersburg, where I sold my truck. When I got back they werein bed, and on my next visit they were at the point of death. About thattime I was taken sick, and was laid up for more than three months. WhenI went to see my birds at Monk's Neck, they had flown!"
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