Jasper County Democrat, Volume 15, Number 39, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 17 August 1912 — My Lady of the North THE LOVE STORY OF A GRAY JACKET [ARTICLE+ILLUSTRATION]

My Lady of the North THE LOVE STORY OF A GRAY JACKET

by RANDALL PARRISH

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CHAPTER 11. The Night Ride. By five o’clock we were safe at Colchester, and while our horses rested and refreshed themselves on some confiscated grain, the two of us lay lazily back on a grassy knoll, well within, the shadow" of a ruined wall, and watched the round, red sun drop slowly down behind those western hills we had to climb. As early as we deemed it safe to venture, we were again in saddle, riding now straight to the westward, along the smohth-beaten pike, until we caught sight of the black shadow of Colton church, in pur front; then we swerved to the left, and still moving rapidly but with considerable care for the horses, headed directly across the more broken country toward the foot-hills. It proved to be a hard, toil•some climb up those long, steep slopes rising before us; for we were extremely careful now' to keep well away from every known route of travel, and our horses, although selected from among the best mounts of the cavalry brigade, had already been thoroughly winded by their smart trot up the valley. An hour of this work passed. "Whether or not we were yet within the enemy’s lines was largely conjecture, for no human eye could pierce the enveloping gloom, and no sound, either of warning or encouragement, reached us as we strained our ears. The sergeant rode slightly in advance as we toiled up the higher terrace, for our sole dependence as to direction and distance was upon his memory, and even that could scarcely serve for much on such a night as this. I traced his passage upward as best I might, and pressed close after him, guided not so much by sight as by sound —the occasional rolling of a loosened stone, the rustling of leaves as he touched a bush in passage, the faint clinking of his sabre, and the heavy breathing of his horse —until at last his long, slender figure rose sufficiently above the dark hill surface to be faintly silhouetted in deeper shadow against the dim reflection of the upper sky. Almost coincidently with this my horse "ranged up beside his, where he had drawn rein in evident perplexity. “What is it, Dan?” I questioned cautiously; for all I could feel reasonably assured of just then was that behind any rock or tree in our front there might be crouching a Federal picket. “It’s nothin’, Cap,” he answered quietly, turning his face toward me as he spoke. “I’m just tryin’ ter ’member some landmark yereabout ter guide from-. Blamed if ever I see such a dark night; it’s like bein’ inside a pocket, sir, an’ I reckon as how It must be nigh onter ten year since I run loose in this yere country as a kid. Thet thar cut-off wo took a while back has sort o’ confused me; that’s a fac\ and I don’t just know whar I am; but I reckon as how the main ridge road we’re a huntin’ after oughter run somewhar out yonder.” He pointed forward into the night. “Very well; hand me your rein, and see what you can discover out there on foot. Sitting here Isn’t apt to mend matters, and wo surely cannot afford to cripple our horses among those rocks.”

The sergeant, a gaunt, tireless mountaineer, slipped silently from his saddle, swung his light cavalry carbine from his back to the honow Of his arm, and in another moment was lost to sight in the darkness. A snake could not have slipped away more stealthily. I heard a stone rattle under his foot, a half-suppressed oath, and then the night had completely swallowed him. How utterly alone I. seemed; how intensely, painfully still everything was! The silence felt almost like a weight, so greatly it oppressed me. Even the accustomed voices of nature were hushed, as if war, with its unspeakable cruelty, had cast a spell over all things animate and inanimate. It \tas weird, uncanny. With every nerve strained, I leaned forward across the pommel of my saddle, listening for the slightest sound out in that blapk void. My head burned and throbbed as with fever, and I felt that strange, unnatural stillness as though it had been a physical thing; surely others besides us were upon this hilltop! For I knew well—my every soldier instinct told me —that somewhere out in that impenetrable mystery were blazing the camp fires of an enemy. Vigilant eyes were peering everywhere in search of such as we. How far away they might lurk I could not even conjecture perhaps merely around some projecting wall of rock, —and we might even now be within the range of their ready rifles. I could hear the quickened throbbing of my heart, and my hand fell heavily on a pistol butt in nervous expectancy. The soft night wind, heavy with pihe odors, began suddenly to play amid the leaves of a low tree beside me, and the pleasant rustling mingled like strains of music with the slow

breathing of the horses. 1 recall It now as one of the loneliest moments of my life, one of those almost unaccountable conditions of mind and body when it seemed to me that the thin, sinewy fingers pf an inexorable* fate were closing down with a pressure which no strength of man might resist. I was worn with fatigue in the saddle, but did not dream of sleep; my mind, in a firm endeavor to cast aside the uncanny influences of the hour, recalled in swift panorama those three years of civil strife which had run their course since ..I, a slender, whita-faeed lad, had stolen forth into the moonlight from the portals of the old home, to ride away into the northward where the throbbing drums called me. So deeply had my every thought become merged in these musings that Craig, slipping silently as a ghost from out the engulfing darkness, lajd hand upon my bridle-rein beford I became aware of his approach. “I got ’er all right now, Cap, A he announced quietly, peering up Into my face. “YYe uns are not more nor a hundred yards ter the right of the road, but I reckon you’ll find ther way a bit rough.” He led both horses forward, moving slowly and with that silent caution so characteristic of his class. With scarcely the scraping of a hoof on the flinty rocks we came forth in safety upon the defined, hard-beaten track. “The south is over yonder ter the left.” he whispered, as he swung up into saddle, “an’ the trend of the road is mighty high due west” “But in which direction does their main camp lie, sergeant?” “Dura it; thet’s just what I can’t quite figure out, sir—whether we uns be to ther north or south of ther white church. Then, somehow or other, it seems like to me as if this yere road lay a bit too close ter the edge of ther plateaus ter ever be the main pike what the Feds marched over. I reckon from ther direction it runs that maybe it might be a branch like, or a wood-road leadin’ inter the other. If thet’s the way It is, then them fellers we uns Is tryin’ ter dodge ought ter be down yonder ter the left somewhar.” I gazed vaguely out into the black vacancy to which he pointed. “Well, if we should chance to run up against one of their picket posts we shall soon be enlightened,” I returned, urging my horse carefully forward. “But we shall have to take the chances, for it would not prove healthy for either of us to be caught here by daylight.” Not daring to venture on any gait faster than a walk along this unknown and ill-defined mountain trail, w r e slowly and cautiously worked our way forward for more than an hour, meeting with no human obstacle to our progress, yet feeling that each step forward was surrounded by imminent peril. That we were now well within the guarded lines of the enemy we were both assured, although where or how we had succeeded in penetrating the cordon of picket posts unobserved we could only conjecture. V (.To be Continued.)