Jasper County Democrat, Volume 7, Number 37, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 17 December 1904 — IN THE DEBATABLE LAND. [ARTICLE+ILLUSTRATION]

IN THE DEBATABLE LAND.

BY EDWARD S. ELLIS.

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CHAPTER XL A HALT. AT THE ROADSIDE. ( When Lieutenant Oakman had walked a hundred yards farther, he slackened his pace and looked back. The colored man, leading the horse, was just fading from view in the moonlight. “He’s right. I am a fool, *but I wouldn’t accept any favor from her, if icy life depended on it.’’ For a man traversing a highway for the first time, the Union officer revealed a knowledge which, to say the least, was singular. A half mile from the plantation of General Eldridge he came to a forking of the ways. “I am to turn to the right,” he reflected, scanning his surroundings, “and less than a mile farther I will find the house where I am to halt and await orders—that is, if everything goes right.”

Broad, open fields stretched on the right and left. At intervals the old, roomy mansions of the planters appeared, all standing well back from the roadway and surrounded by shade trees, with the negro quarters near at hand. Now and then the starlike point of light twinkling among the shadows showed that some one was astir despite the lateness of the honr, but as yet the fugitive had not seen a living person after leaving Pete, the slave. Bnt standing at the parting of the ways, peering about and listening, he heard a startling sound. It was the rhythmic beating of horses’ hoofs osi the earth. It came from the rear and steadily grew more distinct, proving? that a party of horsemen were in pursuit of him.

“They are the men who had pldtted to visit the home of General Eldridge and to give me the ‘witch’s parole.’ Captain Trenholm might have tried to prevent it, but it would have availed nothing. Even if he did try probably it would have been all pretense,” bitterly added the lieutenant. “How I could laugh at these fellows if I was in the saddle of that horse which Pete offered fne. And yet if he were hei’e I would still refuse. ”

Unquestionably the young man was in an unreasonable mood and gave another proof of the justice of the opinion expressed by the slave.

Lieutenant Oakman felt he had done the meanest act of his life in sending that message to Miss Eldridge. She had made an honest effort to befriend him after the tender ministration of herself and mother, and he had repelled it with insulting words instead of accepting the proffer with his profoundest gratitude. Why? Through fear that she might “offend Captain Trenholm,” as he expressed it. Heavens, if she only would offend him beyond the possibility of pardon, how the heart of the fugitive would leap with joy I , But perhaps he did net comprehend the mysteries of his own heart. When a worthy man has said or dene an unworthy thing, his desperation urges him to go to further lengths, which fact will account for Lieutenant Oakman’s absurd bnt characteristic hope that he might have a second opportunity to turn aside more pointedly than before the gentle hand helpingly extended to him. But the hoof beats increased in distinctness. The men were approaching at a sweeping gallop over the main highway. If they followed the same course with him, he must soon be overtaken. While there were no woods on either side of the road, he was confident of escaping detection by climbing the rail fence and lying fiat on the ground, provided he adopted the stratagem before being observed by his pursuers.

Prudence demanded that he should do this at once, but he was too impatient to throw away any time. He increased his pace, continually listening and often pausing to glance to the rear.

When the sounds indicated that the horsemen were close to the fork of the road, Oakman vaulted over the fence and stood in the attitnde of intense attention. The gronnd was dry for the season, and in the stillness the hoofs rang ont with nnnsnal clearness. There were several moments when he was certain the had turned to the right and would soon pass the spot. Before secreting himself he meant to wait until he could see the foremost horsemen. But they did not appear, and the receding sounds proved that they had ridden past the fork and were galloping np the main highway with unabated speed. “How long will they keep*at it?” he asked himself, climbing back into the road. “I don’t see bow they can expect to capture me when they mast know I am sure to discover their approach. Perhaps they mean to get in front, raise a hue and cry, and by rousing the country head me off.“ Lieutenant Oakman’s danger was real, and he knew it He had nothing to fear from the regular Confederate forces, for he was in uniform and carried with him the proof that he was a regularly exchanged prisoner, entitled to a safe conduct through the enemy’s lines. But there were hovering on the ontskirts of the Union and Confederate armies troops of irregular cavalry, technically known as guerrillas, who disregarded the laws of civilized warfare. The reproach of the existence of such

men belongs in a greater or less degree to both sides during the war. The belief of Lieutenant Oakman was that a party of these free riders had learned of his presence at the home of General Eldridge and had arranged to visit the place and summarily 4 ‘remove’ ’ him. He fled just in time to escape, or perhaps to postpone a fight with them. He continued his journey like a map to whom the country was unfamiliar. He was on the alert, and had not gone far, when he descried that for which he was looking. From a dwelling on the left shone a light, its few rays piercing the trees and reaching the highway, from which it was separated by a long lane, inclosed by tall trees, whose tops appeared almost to meet. The lieutenant hurried his pace and, turning through the open gate, entered the avenue that recalled many he had seen in bis native state and for the moment caused a touch of homesickness. He half expected to hear the baying of a dog, but the place, like General Eldridge’s, seemed to be unprovided with the convenient nuisances. The house and grounds were similar to those he had left a short time before, but of much more modest preportions. This dwelling, it may as well be stated, was the residence of two sisters, one of whom was a widow and the other unmarried, both in middle life. They were the only occupants, with the exception of a number of colored servants, some of whom dwelt in a small wing of the bnilding and the others in their regular quarters. Without hesitation, the lieutenant stepped upon the porch and was in the act of reaching up to sound the big brass knocker, when the door was drawn inward and a woman, tall, slim, severe of feature and plainly dressed, stood revealed by the light of a candle on a table at the side of the broad hall. “Is this Mrs. Ben ware?” asked the officer, cap in hand. “It is. And you are Lieutenant Oakman?” “At your service, madam.” “You are expected. Come in.” CHAPTER XIL HOT QUARTERS. Lieutenant Oakman followed Mrs. Benware into the spacious but scantily furnished sitting room, where she placed the candle on the circular stand in the middle of the apartment. A hickory wood fire was burning on the broad hearth and diffused its cheerful warmth to the farthest corner of the room. One of the evidences of the poverty brought by wartimes was that in many such families candles took the place of the lamps to which they had been accustomed.

A second lady followed the officer, stepping so lightly that he did not suspect her presence until Mrs. Benware introduced her sister, Miss Davis. The ladies were of nearly the same age and showed a striking similarity of features. The lieutenant remained standing until they were seated, and the hostess motioned him to the rocking chair at the Bide of the table supporting the candle. “Mary has it,” added the elder.

The unmarried lady drew a folded paper from the bosom of her dress, and without a word handed it to the officer, who, knowing its character, flushed and accepted it with a slightly tremulous grasp. f “With your permission, ” he said, bowing to each in torn. They nodded, and without further ceremony he unfolded the single sheet of paper and proceeded to examina it with an intensity of interest that could not have been intensified, the women meanwhile watching his countenance with an interest almost as great. They saw his eyes expand with wonder, while a low, admiring whistle came from between his lips. “What a prize I” he muttered. “General Sherman would pay SIO,OOO to lay his hands on that. ”

The extravagant assertion was warranted, for that sheet of paper contained a list of all the forces gathering to dispnte the advance of Sherman, with the names of the officers aud the exact strength of every regiment. Included in the statement was equally valuable information as to the cavalry and artillery, not to mention a number of minor matters. Finally on the back of the

document were written in a hand as line and legible as copperplate minute directions for Lientenat - Oakman himself, directions which if followed would carry him into the Union lines before Shennan reached Savannah.

<< Bolße old man fa going to Savannah 1” muttered the delighted officer. “He wouldn’t let >ns know, and we guessed all sorts of places. I take some pride to myself that I stnek to Savannah” — As softly as the moving figure over the screen the door leading from the hall was shoved inward and two men in the ragged uniform of Confederate cavalrymen stepped into the room. Each held a revolver, and the foremost, with a deftness born of long practice, leveled his weapon at the astounded Union officer. ) “Up with your hands, Yank! We hain’t time for any fooling!” Never was the lieutenant caught so completely at fault. These horsemen, turning back on their own trail, had followed him to the house, tied their animals and entered the bnilding without attracting notice. By what poseible means could they have gained their information ? Oakman did a daredevil thing. Dearer to him than his life was the safety of that document in his hand, for its capture meant death to others besides himself. He would have flung it into the flames had he not known that his captors would snatch it forth before it was more than scorched. He attempted a piece of strategy whose audacity could not have been surpassed. “I surrender under protest, ” he said, rising from his chair, but instead of elevating his hands he coolly folded the paper and shoved it into his inner pocket. “What are you doing?” thundered the man with leveled weapon. “Merely putting away a letter. That being done, up go my hands 1” With which he laughed and reached toward the ceiling. “What is in that letter?” “Would you like to see it?” “Trot it out.*’ The lieutenant shoved his hand under his shoulder and brought forth the letter written by Captain Wager Trenholm. “At your service. It will interest you.” Had the other document been the only one in his possession, thus robbing him of this trick, he would have whipped out his revolver and fought the battle then and there to the end. The cavalryman gingerly unfolded the letter. “Here, Bill,” he said gruffly to his companion, “I never could read writing. Out with it while I keep the Yank covered.” Oakman wondered that they did not disarm him, but when three more grizEled troopers tramped through the hall and entered the apartment he saw the little need of doing so. The one who held the letter leaned sideways to the candle for a minute or two and then picked up the light the better to read the writing. His companions looked on attentively while waiting for him to speak. Finally he emitted an oath after glancing at the signature. “I’m blowed!” he exclaimed. “Do you know who wrote that, boys ?” “How should we know?” was the appropriate question that followed. “Why, Captain Wage Trenholm.” “Read it out. ” The man complied, while the others stood gaping and wondering. The letter, it will be recalled, was a declaration that Lieutenant Ledyard Oakman was a Union officer for whom Captain Trenholm had been exchanged and that he was entitled to courteous treatment and a safe conduct to the Union lines. When the group had somewhat recovered from their, shock, the one who still held the document in his hand looked at it again. “I wonder if the captain did write that Miss Harriman, yon know his writing.” “Very well indeed. ” Lo, directly behind Lieutenant Oakman stood Miss Marian Harriman. whose detestation of the Union officer a fortnight before bronght so scathing a rebuke from Mrs. Eldridge and her daughter. “Heavens, you herel” he exclaimed, facing her. “Yes, she said, with a sneering smile. *‘l am here, and I rather suspect you wish you were somewhere else. ” “I always do when in yonr presence ’ She had on her hat and held a riding whip in her hand, as if she had just ridden up with the party. Could it be that it was she who had conducted them to this house that she might betray him to his death ? \ She ignored the slur and. taking the letter from the hand of the soldier, who held the candle for her. examined it with the utmost care from the beginning to the signature at the bottom. “You know. ” she said in conclusion, “that the captain never loses the opportunity to visit the heme of General Eldridge. I am familiar with his handwriting. and. therefore, much as I regret it. I am compelled to say that this letter was written by him. ” doubt about it. Miss Harriman ?’ asked one of the disappointed group. “Not a particle. I suppose it will hardly be safe to disregard what he says, or rather what he has written. This prisoner is in uniform, and therefore cannot be regarded as a spy, unless”— “Unless what?” asked two of the guerrillas in the same breath. “There are papers on him to 6how that he ia acting as a spy. Why not search him so as to make sure?” “Good ideal You’ve got more wit than all of us! Go through boyil” To Be Continued.

"What a prize!" he muttered.