THE UNIVERSITY OF 
 
 NORTH CAROLINA 
 
 LIBRARY 
 
 THE WILMER COLLECTION 
 
 OF CIVIL WAR NOVELS 
 
 PRESENTED BY 
 
 RICHARD H. WILMER, JR. 
 
CRAG-NEST. 
 
 ^. Romance of the Days of Sheridan s Ride. 
 
 By T. C. DeLEON, 
 
 Author of "Four Years in T{ebel Capitals,'^ '''John Holden, Unionist," 
 "Creole and Vuritan," "The Turitan's Daughter," etc. 
 
 It is not the deeds that men do. so much as the manner 
 of their doing, that set their impress upon an era. 
 
 MOBILE, ALA. 
 
 THE GOSSIP PRINTING CO.. 
 
 1897. 
 
/ 
 
 copyrighted; and all bights reserved. 
 
TO 
 
 THE MEMORY 
 OF MY LONG AND WELL-LOVED FRIEND, 
 
 Mrs. price WILLIAMS, Jr., 
 
 WHO WAS THE INSPIRATION OF ALL THAT WAS BEST IN 
 
 THE WIFE, MOTHER AND HOSTESS OF MY 
 
 "puritan's DAUGHTER," 
 
 I DEDICATE THIS BOOK. 
 
 602809 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER. PAGE. 
 
 1. In the Winter Siesta .... 9 
 
 II. The Old Virginia Home ... 19 
 
 III. By the " Daughter OP THE Stars " - - 27 
 
 IV. A Bit of Sage Advice . . . 37 
 V. Under the Strain 49 
 
 VI. Varying Visitations . . . . 57 
 
 VII. The First Quarrel 75 
 
 VIII. A Portrait Exchanged . . . 85 
 
 IX. From the Opequon ----- lOO 
 
 X. Beyond the Lines - - . . m 
 
 XI. Home, Farewell ! 129 
 
 XII. How Blood Told 140 
 
 XIII. A Morning's Misadventures - - - 152 
 
 XIV. The Ride with Sheridan - - - 165 
 XV. A Richmond "Starvation's" Results - 183 
 
 XVI. The Torch at Crag-Nest - - - 202 
 
Digitized by the Internet Archive 
 
 in 2010 with funding from 
 
 University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill 
 
 http://www.archive.org/details/cragnestromanceoOOdele 
 
INTRODUCTORY, 
 
 'TpHE pseudo-philosopher who said : " A book without a preface 
 ■* is a salad without salt," plainly valued his condiment above 
 his comestible. 
 
 The latter-daj' story that does not tell itself, will gain little 
 from the Greek "chorus" preceding it; and, equally, he who 
 can not read for himself does not want a book. Yet a word here 
 may point merely the raison (Tetre of this romance. 
 
 The war novel proper may be a trifle out of date ; one class of 
 readers for it having largely passed awaj-, while the other has not 
 yet mellowed, by reading and thought, for its real enjoj'ment. 
 But the present is scarcely a war novel proper, albeit its scenes 
 concern themselves with the most active and stirring events of 
 that most exceptional of wars — the struggle between the states. 
 
 The object of my " Four Years in Rebel Capitals " was not to 
 write history ; only to give a truthful and familiar view of the 
 gradual effect of the wearing strain and demoralization of civil 
 war upon the tone and character of a people. But, in that book, 
 very much had necessarily to be left unsaid ; even as in all war 
 novels their story and movement force aside their yet more im- 
 portant idea. Even the graphic sketches of mj' gallant friend, 
 John Esten Cooke, were given without pause to outline the result 
 of the scenes he paints with virile and vivid brush. 
 
 It occurred to me that a romance of facts, and carrying with 
 it their result — making result as it were the hero of the storj' — 
 might bear more conviction than could either historj', or stor}-, 
 
8 PREFA CE. 
 
 separately. So I took a typical family of tlie Valley of Virginia 
 and made its home seat, and its gradual changes, the feature of 
 this tale. If I have drawn living men and women, the}' will do 
 the task I set for myself ; for their surroundings are familiar ones 
 to the time and the localitj' through which they move. 
 
 Portraiture has not been essayed ; though, of course, known 
 people have typed the characters. Few who recall him will fail 
 to see the lion-hearted, yet courtly, old colonel of the First Vir- 
 ginia in some phases of him a kindly critic christens "j-our 
 Virginian Colonel Newcome ;" and the old Valle}' grande dame has 
 a hundred prototypes in her own state. 
 
 Perchance, my particular Federal general never rode down the 
 Valley 
 
 Witli light of burning roofs, to mark his cojirse. 
 
 Still it is true that such wearers of the blue were not uncommon — 
 as generous foes as thej' were gallant soldiers. Carping criticlings 
 have said, ere this, that ray novels: "Cater to Northern patron- 
 age, bj' making his Yankees heroes." Their shallowness babbled 
 by this underlying truth: they detract from Southern heroism, 
 who undervalue the men the South fought so long and so well. 
 
 All the Cavaliers did not ride south of the Potomac ; tlie 
 grandest Puritan of the war had never seen Plymouth Rock. 
 
 With so much of preface, I leave this story to its readers. If 
 its people be not of flesh and blood, then no words of mine could 
 give it " pith and moment." If its results be not those of men's — 
 and women's — acts, it will relegate itself to the Leporello-list of 
 failures. 
 
 T. C. DeLeon. 
 
 Mobile, Ala., May 15, 1897. 
 
CRAG-NEST. 
 
 ^ mamuntt: nf the ^nvs nf SlrBridati's ^tde. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 IN TUE WINTER SIESTA. 
 
 Those were gay and reckless days of the early 
 war! 
 
 The harsh hand of conflict had borne as yet but 
 lightly upon the hearts of the people on either 
 side of the Potomac; though there had been suf- 
 ficient of the pomp and panoply of war to stir the 
 prideful ambition of both sections. But its grim 
 and ghastly realism — so well known later as to 
 become an element of daily life — had not yet be- 
 gun to irritate; far less to fester into hideousness. 
 
 Manassas had told its story of crude assault 
 and dogged reception; a fight — like Chevy Chase, 
 "of all a summer's day" — of green troops hurled 
 against raw levies, resistless — perhaps intentless; 
 of swirl, onset and blood, ending in wild rush for 
 the Capital and timorous expectancy of that dread 
 pursuit which never came. 
 
 Only came rest on arms, desultory watching 
 
10 CRAG-NEST. 
 
 across the Potomac for weary months, as Manas- 
 sas Slimmer reddened into autumn; and that, in 
 turn, whitened with early snows the mountain 
 tops of the as yet untrampled Valley, 
 
 The first winter of the war may be regarded 
 its moral cocktail; stimulant to expectation and 
 tonic to hope, as precedent to that long orgy of 
 blood, happily not yet set forth upon its menu. 
 
 In the early days of winter, a gay and thought- 
 less party of younger people assembled under the 
 grave matronage of INIrs. Cabbell Courtenay in 
 her Valley home. Crag-Nest, time out of mind 
 the manor house of the Courtenays, had ever 
 swung wide its hospitable doors; its widowed 
 mistress clinging to traditions of her own race, 
 and basing her life-habit on the memories of a 
 husband, whose practice had ever been transla- 
 tion of the Arab's wordy proffer to his guest. 
 
 As the red glow of early sunset lingered about 
 the brow of the mountain opposite, its reflection 
 warmed the sloping lawn leading to the home; 
 and the low, broad porch along which rapidly 
 paced two young girls. Well dressed in latest 
 style and fabric, these two presented, even to the 
 casual glance, that marked contrast — in thought 
 and manner, as well as appearance — which so 
 often goes to cement girl friendships. Dark, 
 ruddy and tall, Valerie Courtenay showed in 
 every flash of her black eyes and every curve and 
 
IN THE WINTER SIESTA. \\ 
 
 movement of her supple figure — in the very tread 
 of her slim boot and quick movement of the 
 slender, brown hand about her hairpins — the 
 conscious power, will and self reliance, foreign to 
 her fair companion. For Wythe Dandridge was 
 shorter by a head than her cousin and chosen con- 
 fidante; white, plump and soft, with peachblow 
 complexion and curves suggestive of dimple in 
 shoulder and elbow. Masses of soft, fair hair 
 coiled low upon her neck and shaded the low brow, 
 'neath which mild, blue eyes glanced furtively 
 toward the gate, as the pair halted at the door of 
 the sashed side porch that formed a conservatory. 
 
 Valerie Courtenay followed the other's glance 
 with a quick flash of her dark eyes as, with a mock 
 sigh, she quoted : 
 
 "'He cometh not,' she said, 'I am a-weary:' 1 
 wonder if he's dead." 
 
 "Val!" was all Miss Dandridge replied. "How 
 ca7i you? " But the real sigh came, as the soft 
 eyes again traveled to the gate. 
 
 "How can /<e," Val retorted demurely, "after 
 writing great oaths, that took eight portraits of 
 Mr. Davis to bring them through the mails, that 
 he would be here this very day. Much I fear, my 
 pretty coz, that he has surrendered, rescue or no 
 rescue, to that dreadful Baltimore girl; or else 
 has been captured en route by the flying artillery 
 belles at Winchester." 
 
12 CRAG-NEST. 
 
 "You know you don't mean it, Val," Wythe 
 Dandridge answered gravely. "And besides, 
 why should / care? You know he wrote to you, 
 not to me." 
 
 ^^To me and for you," Val answered saucily. 
 "Why, my dear, I'm old enough to be his — aunt, 
 if I am his cousin. I tell you, Wythe, he's a 
 deserter." 
 
 "I'm sure he's detained by duty," the other 
 pleaded seriously. 
 
 " 'The true knight's duty is to his ladye fayre;' 
 and I am sure — " 
 
 "Listen! — horses' feet!" the fairer girl broke 
 in, bending her little pink shell of an ear toward 
 the yet faint sounds. "It must be he!" 
 
 "Undoubtedly," Val assented, leaning calmly 
 against the pillar, "for there is no other rider in 
 the Valley; and Master Rob Maury always rides 
 four-in-hand." 
 
 "There are several horses," the other girl an- 
 swered; still listening eagerly and with height- 
 ened color. "They are coming so fast. Oh! I 
 hope nothing has happened!" 
 
 "Nothing more serious I warrant," Miss 
 Courtenay answered, "than a squad bringing 
 news of his being shot for desertion; or perhaps 
 Master Rob is bringing in some Yankee picket 
 that captured him. Don't you think so, aunt?" 
 
 "What a rattlebrain you are, Val," the lady 
 
IJV TBI: WINTER SIESTA. 13 
 
 addressed replied. She stepped from the con- 
 servatory and carefully closed the sashed doors 
 with firm, white, patrician hands, on which the 
 lined, blue veins alone spoke of great age. Taller 
 than either girl, with the grace of belleship from 
 another age showing in every pose and in every 
 fold of her severely made black silk gown, Mrs. 
 Courtenay looked a perfect portrait of colonial 
 days, just stepped from its frame. The clear, 
 white skin, softened still more by hair of spun 
 silver, pompadoured high back from the broad 
 brow; the aquiline nose, full but firm lips and 
 partly doubled chin gave singular strength to a 
 face in which benevolence blended with power, 
 only to be dominated at times hj the steady gleam 
 of steel gray eyes, undimmed by age and unyield- 
 ing to the modern fad for "glasses." Calm, self- 
 reliant simplicity spoke in every line of face and 
 figure and dress; its crowning the stiff and tower- 
 ing back of her widow's cap, of which the frill and 
 strings hung loose behind her coronet of hair. No 
 gleam of jewel, chain or ring relieved severe sim- 
 plicity of dress, save only the heavy circlet of gold 
 about her wedding finger. 
 
 "Visitors, aunt; and several of them," Val 
 said, as the clatter of hoofs grew clear and sharp 
 on the hard mountain road and a party of four 
 horsemen, at a rapid trot, swung round the curve 
 of the hill and bore down upon the gate. 
 
14 CRAG-NEST. 
 
 "They are ever welcome," Mrs. Courtenay re- 
 plied — one of her rare smiles showing even, white 
 teeth, of nature's making. "They are doubly so 
 when they wear our uniform. But see, my chil- 
 dren! That taller horseman is our cousin, Wirt." 
 And the lady of the manor moved toward the 
 broad steps, as the riders clattered through the 
 gate and up the path. 
 
 "And the tall young rider behind him is our 
 cousin, Rob Maury," Val whispered to her cousin, 
 as she followed her aunt. 
 
 "And the other is Lieutenant Caskie Cullen," 
 Wythe Dandridge whispered back; a most unnec- 
 essary blush tinting her soft cheek and what of 
 her neck peeped above her collar. 
 
 Erect, stern and soldierly, the elder oflflcer rode 
 up; drawing rein as he lifted his corded hat and 
 gravely bent his broad shoulders; then swinging 
 from saddle with the easy grace of a young horse- 
 man. Over six feet of height seemed even more 
 from length of sinewy limb and lank, muscular 
 body; its depth of rounded chest denoting unusual 
 strength. The close fitting shell-jacket and bufe 
 riding pants answered to play of muscle; the high 
 riding boots ended in slim, high-arched feet; while 
 the ungauntleted hand that raised his hat was 
 firm and white, but nervous as if gripping the hilt 
 of his famous sword. For few men in the Army 
 of Virginia could draw that blade from scabbard 
 
JiV THE WINTER SIESTA. 15 
 
 with one sweep, so great was its keen and shining 
 length. 
 
 Every inch the cavalier looked Colonel Wirt 
 Calvert, as well he might with the bluest blood of 
 sister states coursing through his veins. Straight 
 descended through his sire from the first lords of 
 Maryland, his mother's forbears had early landed 
 at Jamestown. And upon the face that fitly top- 
 ped his stalwart frame, the marks of descent and 
 personality were traced with equal clearness. 
 The high, sloping forehead, its temples fringed 
 sparsely with snow-white hair; the deep-set blue 
 eyes beneath heavy gray brows; the firm-based 
 nose with ample nostrils, and the long-sloped jaw 
 with full, beardless chin, denoted tenacity of the 
 "Island Mastiff," tempered by high intelligence. 
 But that tell-tale feature, the mouth, spoke no 
 further clue to the complex machinery within; for 
 the long sweep of a huge, gray mustache com- 
 pletely veiled it and curved about the jaw. So, as he 
 tossed his rein to the ready orderly, never moving 
 the blue eyes from the ladies, as he advanced with 
 bared head. Colonel Calvert seemed best exemplar 
 of those "Golden Horse Shoe Knights," whom the 
 Southern poet wrote: 
 
 " The knightliest of the knightly race, 
 Who, since the days of old, 
 Have kept the lamp of chivalry 
 Alight in hearts of gold — 
 
16 CMAG-NE8T. 
 
 The kindliest of the kindlj' band 
 
 Who rarely hated ease, 
 Who rode with Smith around the land, 
 
 And Raleigh round the seas! 
 
 "Who climbed the blue Virginia hills 
 
 Amid embattled foes, 
 And planted there, in valleys fair, 
 
 The lily and the rose — 
 Whose fragrance lives in many lands, 
 
 Whose beautj' stars the earth, 
 And lights the hearths of many homes 
 
 With loveliness and worth!" 
 
 Educated at St. Cyr, with the cadets of a noble 
 French family — whose head had fought by Major 
 Herbert Calvert's side in Washington's campaigns 
 and had shared his blanket at Valley Forge — the 
 son added the softer graces of Parisian manner to 
 the more solid courtliness of the old school Vir- 
 ginian. 
 
 "We were fortunate indeed, Cousin Virginia," 
 he said, with a bow a marshal of the Empire might 
 have given before Josephine, "that our duty and 
 pleasure unite in laying our road to your door. 
 Thrice fortunate — " he added as he raised his head, 
 after touching his mustache to the extended hand 
 of his kinswoman, and his keen glance rested 
 kindly on the two girls — "in finding your fair 
 young aides on duty." 
 
 And the tall head bent not so low this time, as 
 
IN THE WINTER SIESTA. 17 
 
 the grim mustache swept lightly each fresh fore- 
 head: 
 
 "Why, my little cousins, you grow prettier 
 every time we meet! But, pardon. Cousin Vir- 
 ginia! You know my young friend, Maury; let 
 me present Lieutenant Fraser Ravanel, of Charles- 
 ton." 
 
 ''You were ever welcome, sir," the old lady said 
 gently, "simply as a Carolina soldier; more so as 
 my kinsman's friend. But you have a higher 
 claim to command me and mine if, as I believe, 
 your mother was Sarah Routlege, my schoolmate 
 at Philadelphia. My nieces, Miss Courtenay — 
 Miss Dandridge, — Mr. Kavanel." 
 
 Robert Maury, boyish, agile and gay, had 
 thrown himself from his horse and was already 
 shaking hands heartily with both girls; but Wythe 
 Dandridge's blue eyes looked beyond the young 
 soldier, to open wide with surprise at the deeper 
 crimson disc that jumped into Val Courtenay's 
 pleasure-flushed cheek, as her eyes meet the grave, 
 gray ones of the tall Carolina cavalryman. But 
 he advanced with lazy grace, taking the old lady's 
 hand courteously, as he said in his soft, seaboard 
 accent : 
 
 "You are so good to remember her, Mrs. Courte- 
 nay! I have often heard ma speak of her school- 
 days; and I must compliment her by saying that 
 she is as well preserved as yourself. I am 
 2 
 
18 CRAG-NE8T. 
 
 charmed to meet Miss Dandridge, after hearing 
 so much of her," — he again bowed suavely; 
 adding easily — "and Miss Courtenay and I are 
 scarcely strangers." 
 
 "Oh! how delightful — " Wythe began aloud to 
 Rob Maury; but the other girl broke in a trifle 
 rapidly, the color still lingering in her face: 
 
 "Yes, aunt; Mr. Ravanel and I have met at 
 Judge Brooke's, in Richmond. But, Cousin Wirt, 
 how does it chance that you all came this way; 
 adding" — she finished with her old manner and a 
 quick glance at Miss Dandridge — "so much to all 
 our pleasure?" 
 
 "Providence and the War Department," the 
 veteran answered. "I have been transferred to 
 command of the — th Cavalry; and our base of 
 operations will be the Valley for the present." 
 
 "Oh! I'm so glad!" chirped Miss Dandridge. 
 
 "So am I," echoed Rob Maury. 
 
 "I may venture to join the chorus?" the Caro- 
 linian said quietly. But the interrogation point 
 was made by the flash of his gray eyes, as they 
 met the dark ones Val Courtenay chanced to lift 
 at his words. 
 
THE OLD VIRGINIA HOME. 10 
 
 CHAPTER 11. 
 
 THE OLD VIRGINIA HOME. 
 
 Crag-Nest loked little warlike, as the family 
 and its guests sat about the old-time table, loaded 
 with triumphs of the Mrginian cuisine. Sturdy 
 men of war — their appetites sharpened by brisk 
 riding through crisp, mountain air, and their 
 viands sauced by warmest welcome and charming 
 companionship — charged valorous upon the ram- 
 parts of fried chicken and swept resistless over 
 barricades of raised biscuits. They decimated 
 long ranks of brown muflins and the pig-ham 
 melted as they bore down like the Guard at Water- 
 loo. Amber coffee flowed free, and now — the 
 main onset done — they pressed no less vigorously 
 the rear-guard of airy waffles and flannel cakes, of 
 which the flankers were literally "flowing with 
 milk and honey." But in the pauses of pleasant 
 conflict, the colonel had told his story, not un- 
 aided by volunteer aidship of Master Itobert 
 Maury, who stopped low-toned prattle with Val 
 Courtenay to throw out interjectory comment, en- 
 dorsement, or approval. 
 
 The — th Cavalry was a crack regiment of noted 
 riders, with history-noted names; and its selection 
 for outpost and scout duty followed the promotion 
 
20 CRAG-NEST. 
 
 of its colonel to a western brigade. Unsought, 
 and through fitness only, came Colonel Calvert's 
 transfer from infantry to the more congenial ser- 
 vice; his perfect knowledge of the Valley and its 
 people pointing to him as the man for that post. 
 
 '^My headquarters will not be far away. Cousin 
 Virginia; and I need not add that yon and your 
 fair aides will be ever welcome on your visits of 
 inspection. The regiment is marching there; but 
 we spurred ahead — " 
 
 "So plainly to our advantage, sir," Rob put in, 
 his mouth rather too full of waffle and honey. 
 "The colonel has made me his courier. Cousin 
 Val; and from now on I'll look down from a Mc- 
 Clellan tree on these poor infantry tramps." 
 
 "I promised your father to make a man of you, 
 when he fell into my arms at Cerro Gordo, Rob," 
 the old man said with gentler voice; adding, as he 
 brushed back the flowing gray mustache: "And 
 I'll do it, if you ever grow out of being a big boy!" 
 
 "And you are with the — th Cavalry, also?" 
 ]Mrs. Courtenay turned graciously to her stranger 
 guest, who had sat quietly through the meal, tak- 
 ing small part in the current of talk. 
 
 "Temporarily, I am on special duty, ma'am," 
 he answered; adding quickly: "On detail for en- 
 gineer duty. But I had no idea of being first 
 ordered on such pleasant special service as this." 
 
 "Your mother's son must ever be a welcome 
 
THE OLD VIRGINIA HOME. 21 
 
 guest at Crag-Nest," the old lady replied with a 
 smile. ''Cousin Wirt puts me under compliment 
 by permitting me to entertain you, even for the 
 brief two days." 
 
 But the man's eyes had again caught Miss 
 Courtenay's and some restraint and absence 
 showed in his perfunctory: 
 
 "You are too good, ma'am!" 
 
 "And of course you dance. Captain Ravanel?" 
 Miss Dandridge exclaimed. "You must; riding so 
 well as you do !" Then, catching Rob's wide stare 
 fixed on her, the younger girl blushed rosily at her 
 implied confession of prompt study of the stran- 
 ger's points, as she corrected herself: — "As Mr. 
 Maury says you do." 
 
 "Did I say that?" Rob blurted out, boy fashion. 
 "I don't remember it, but it's true though. I'm 
 no bad horseman myself, but I reckon Mr. Ravanel 
 can give me points." 
 
 "I have been riding longer than he has. Miss 
 Dandridge," Ravanel said with a smile that 
 showed white teeth under his drooping mustache 
 — "You ride, of course?" 
 
 "Oh! I dote on it," the girl cried naively; "but 
 I don't ride like Val— " 
 
 "I have been riding longer than she has," Miss 
 Courtenay finished for her. And again her eyes 
 met the man's; this time not dropping under them, 
 though the color deepened in her oval cheeks. 
 
22 CRAG-NEST. 
 
 "1 am glad you do," he continued quietly to 
 Wythe; not even answering her cousin's look. "I 
 have a very clever, v^ell-gaited mare with the 
 wagons, and I hope you will permit me to offer 
 her and myself for your service. Miss Dandridge." 
 
 "Aunt Virginia is very careful about Miss 
 Wythe's mounts," Rob Maury put in abruptly — 
 "Your mare is a little fresh sometimes, Mr. 
 Ravanel." 
 
 "All young animals are apt to be, on occasion," 
 the Carolinian responded quietly. "But, like her 
 master, Santee yields naturally to feminine hand. 
 You will permit me" — he turned courteously to 
 his hostess — "when I have become less of a stran- 
 oer?" 
 
 "But you haven't answered if you dance," 
 Wythe persisted, "and I'm just sure you do!" 
 
 The man's eyes, absently gazing through the 
 wide window on the crescent moon just cresting 
 the distant mountain, never changed as he an- 
 swered half to himself: 
 
 "1 used to — it seems so long ago!" 
 
 And the far away look deepened in the eyes 
 that, had he turned them, might have seen Val 
 Courtenay's as well travel to the distant mountain 
 top, while the same far away look deepened in 
 them and her aunt spoke twice ere she recalled 
 herself with a little start. 
 
 "I beg pardon, aunt. Yes, Cousin Wirt, it will 
 
THE OLD VIR(jHNIA HOME. 23 
 
 be delightful; and the War Department builded 
 wiser than it knew when it sent us protectors, 
 partners, horses and proffers of picnics, all in one." 
 
 "We should celebrate their advent," Wythe 
 Dandridge cried with a merry laugh. 
 
 "And so you shall, my dears," Mrs. Courtenay 
 assented cheerily. "As soon as the — th regiment 
 pitches its tents you shall have a dance of wel- 
 come" — she bowed gravely to the colonel — "if its 
 commander permits." 
 
 "On one condition solely" — the veteran an- 
 swered — "that my kinswoman walks the polonaise 
 with me. Jove! I have not danced one since that 
 night in Paris when the Marquis feted the Russian 
 Crown Princess. I was a slim youth then. Cousin 
 Virginia," — he went on, waxing reminiscent — 
 "but I remember my lavender silk stockings and 
 silver buckles; and how Madame la Marquise 
 honored the young American by giving him her 
 hand." 
 
 "Was she pretty, sir?" Rob Maury queried with 
 his now^ empty mouth half open, as if to gulp in 
 the answ^er. 
 
 "She w^as a grand lady, sir, with the blood of 
 princes in her veins," the colonel responded with 
 slight frown; but turning to his kinswoman: "A 
 great man, the Marquis, Cousin Virginia, in peace 
 as in war. Jove! it was he first taught my father 
 the true secret of filet de truite, a la sauce Tartare!" 
 
24 CRAG-NE8T. 
 
 And the veteran pronounced the last word with a 
 fatness of rolled r's and an Epicurean gurgle that 
 would have made Brillat Savarin proud to hear. 
 "Those were rare days, when I hobnobbed with 
 royal descendants!" 
 
 "It was your right of birth, Cousin Wirt," the 
 old lady said mildly, but raising her full chin 
 proudly. "The blood of the Calverts and Cabbells 
 is the peer of any king's! So, as a daughter of 
 their house, I accept my kinsman's invitation and 
 will succeed Madame la Marquise in the polonaise. 
 — Bui I am forgetting, my kinsman, that all our 
 guests have ridden hard to-day." She rose from 
 her seat, bowing courteously to all in signal. 
 "Ezekiel! The gentlemen's candles! — Good-night 
 and pleasant dreams to all. As we are not on 
 duty, we will breakfast at eight." 
 
 The statue of shining ebony standing by the 
 ponderous, carved sideboard and reflecting in its 
 polished silverware vast wealth of shirt front and 
 standing collar above his blue dress coat, waved 
 stately right hand to the door and swayed his long 
 back with haughty bend, as he proclaimed: 
 
 "Da gennelmun's can'ls am served!" 
 
 The two girls stood a moment silent, after the 
 matron's gentle good-night kiss upon their fore- 
 heads; Val Courtenay's eyes fixed steadily upon 
 the now high-riding moon, her companion's star- 
 ing straight ahead at nothing, as the blood stole 
 
THE OLD VIRGINIA HOME. 25 
 
 redder to her cheek. Then she woke with a little 
 sigh and exclaimed: 
 
 "Oh! Val, isn't he nice?" 
 
 Miss Courtenay came back slowly from the 
 mountain top, as she ansAvered rather wearily: 
 
 "Oh, yes, he's a nice enough boy — ^" 
 
 "Boy! Why Val, he must be thirty if he's a 
 day! And so you have met him before?" 
 
 "Oh! I thought you referred to my cousin," 
 the other girl answered quietly. "Yes, I met Mr. 
 Ravanel in Kichmond — casually — when I staid 
 with Coulter Brooke." 
 
 "You didn't like him much," Wythe persisted 
 naively. "You didn't seem a bit glad to see him." 
 
 "You did; and plainly told him so," the elder 
 girl answered rather tartly. "No, don't pout, 
 dear; but you know I never gush over" — she hesi- 
 tated a moment, then slowly dropped the words — 
 "men I don't know. But it will be very nice to 
 have Bob so near, and useful as a walking stick 
 and riding beau." 
 
 "Yes, Bob is very nice," Miss Dandridge re- 
 plied, again looking across the room at nothing. 
 "But one might wish that he had a little more 
 style." 
 
 "There are better things than style, Wythe," 
 Val answered seriously; some surprise creeping 
 into the eyes she fixed upon her cousin. "Bob 
 Maury is a gentleman in birth and in heart. When 
 
26 CRAG-NEST- 
 
 you have been in society as long as I have, you will 
 learn that these are born, and unlike style, can 
 not be made. But come, dear, we're to breakfast 
 at eight and 'da ladies can'ls am served.'" She 
 passed her arm gently around the fair, plump 
 shoulders and bending dow^n pressed a genuine 
 kiss upon the pouting lips. Then the girls lit the 
 tapers in the grand old silver sticks on the side- 
 board and softl}^ passed up the broad, oak stair- 
 waj^ to Ihe u])per hall, across which came, in regu- 
 lar volleys, sounds most unlike that of 
 
 "The horns of elfl;ind faintlj' blowing," 
 
 suggesting that Colonel Wirt Calvert might be 
 dreaming of too much filet de truite a la sauce Tar- 
 tare. 
 
BY THE "DAUGHTER OF THE STARS." 27 
 
 CIIAPTEIi III. 
 
 BY THE " DAUGHTER OF THE STARS." 
 
 The regiment had arrived, gone into comfort- 
 able winter quarters and settled down to routine 
 of camp duty. But two days had been needed for 
 its officers to learn the road to Crag-Nest, where 
 senior and sub alike shared the boundless hospi- 
 tality of the lady of the manor, and the latter 
 especially had been welcomed warmly by the 
 young girls. Already there had been a riding 
 party to the river; Miss Dandridge mounted on 
 ''Santee," with her master as attendant cavalier, 
 while Yal Courtenay rode her own fiery chestnut 
 beside Master Robert ^Maury's eager and restless 
 bay. 
 
 The always bright-tempered girl had been in 
 unusual flow of spirits these tw^o days; caused, as 
 Wythe hinted to her, by nearness of new scalps, 
 possible of affixment to her slim girdle; and on 
 this ride she grew almost reckless. Gully and 
 stream seemed nothing to her mettlesome horse; 
 and more than once she turned out of the road to 
 put him at a fence stiff enough to test the best 
 powers of her escort's mount. And after one of 
 
28 CRAG-NEST. 
 
 these, as they galloped in chase of the pair ahead, 
 the boy suddenly said: 
 
 "Odd, Cousin Val; but you don't seem to like 
 him. — And women always do, too!" 
 
 "So I have — " the girl checked the involun- 
 tary exclamation; nodding toward the couple 
 ahead, as she finished with a laugh — "begun to 
 imagine, Rob. You must watch your 'Lily maid' 
 or she will be broidering stranger Launcelot's 
 shield, ere he rides away." 
 
 "Pshaw! You don't mean it. Cousin Yal!" the 
 boy blurted out, as a hot flush crossed his face. 
 "She doesn't come of a kind that are won without 
 wooing — " 
 
 "As you know. Sir Laggard!" she broke in 
 merrily. 
 
 "And the man's a perfect stranger," he went on 
 glumly. "But he's a deuced handsome and dash- 
 ing one, too; and he's such a perfect gentleman!" 
 
 "Is he?" For a second the girl's dark eyes lost 
 their merry gleam ; a bitter ring in her voice. Then 
 her laugh chimed out again, as she added: 
 
 "And he's so fond of his — 'ma'!" 
 
 "Yes, he is," Master Rob assented loyally. 
 ^^You don't think less of him for devotion to his 
 family. Cousin Yal? And it's a good one, too. 
 I'm not much gone on Mr. Ravanel, for he's too 
 cold and proud to suit my book, and he thinks 
 privates no better than rice-field niggers. But he's 
 
BY THE ''DAUGHTER OF THE STARS." 29 
 
 a man and a brave one, and a good soldier for all 
 that. By Jove! how he rides!" 
 
 The officer's black, chafing and lurching side- 
 ways under the strong bridle hand, suddenly 
 snorted and reared almost upright. But the 
 quick feet left the stirrups, the knees gripped the 
 saddle closer and the man threw his weight for- 
 ward, as the corded neck went straight up. And 
 with the one motion the heavy gauntlet in the 
 bare right hand crashed down between the horse's 
 ears. Even as the blow fell, the clear soft-toned 
 voice said, with the same drawing-room accent: 
 
 "Pull to the left, Miss Dandridge! Santee may 
 fret." 
 
 The black was down again; chafing under 
 punishment of the spur, but obedient to the seem- 
 ing light hand on the curb; and Wythe Dandridge, 
 her glowing cheeks and frank eyes speaking ad- 
 miration, loosened the mare's head and bowled 
 along confidently by her escort. Profile, pose and 
 rapid speech, unheard across distance, told plainly 
 that she was complimenting him, and again the 
 older girl's eyes darkened strangely, and the line 
 of her full lips grew straighter from their pressure 
 together. Then she answered lightly: 
 
 "A very Lochinvar, come out of the South! 
 
 Beware, Master Laggard, lest he mount our ^faii 
 Ellen' upon his horse's croup and ride away from 
 us all!" 
 
30 CRAO-NEST. 
 
 She gave the chestnut his head and sped away 
 after the others to the turn of the road that showed 
 the Shenandoah just ahead. High beyond, the 
 Massanutten reared his towering forehead; haloed 
 now by golden reflection from the sunset; while 
 trending southward the lower crests of Three Top 
 mountain began to lose their profiles in the even- 
 ing shadow. Just at their feet the "Daughter of 
 the Stars" * bared her broad, smooth bosom to 
 the reflected glow, as though ready for the coming 
 gleam of her myriad-eyed mother. 
 
 The quartette drew rein, descending to the 
 bank; Val Courtenay's eyes bent steadily upon the 
 fast rippling stream; her escort's fixed furtively 
 upon the fair, flushed face of the other girl. Grad- 
 ually the restless mare moved upward along the 
 bank, and gradually — obeying imperceptible turn 
 of Maury's wrist — the restless bay kept even pace 
 with her. But, as he sat statue-like in his saddle, 
 Eavanel's gaze followed Miss Courtenay's toward 
 the stream, whether or not it went beyond herself. 
 Suddenly and with a half start, Val came back to 
 the present; her eyes turned toward her missing 
 cousins, who had disappeared around the turn of 
 the bank — then resting in surprise upon her sole 
 companion. He too came back to himself; and, all 
 society man at once, he moved the black up abreast 
 the chestnut. 
 
 * Literal translation of the Indian name, Shenandoah. 
 
BY THE '' DAUGHTER OF THE STARS." 31 
 
 "I fear it has seemed a little like intrusion, Miss 
 Courtenay;'' he said quietly, raising his hat, "but 
 my presence under your roof was the fault of cir- 
 cumstances rather than myself." 
 
 "As my aunt's guest," she replied coldly — all 
 her interest again seeming to center on the river— 
 "7 have no possible right to criticise. As her kins- 
 man's friend, you were doubtless entirel}' wel- 
 come" — there was almost imperceptible pause ere 
 she finished — "to her." 
 
 "I think I have the right," the man said gravely, 
 ignoring her equivoke, "to ask one question. What 
 was your ground for deciding that we should be 
 strangers?" 
 
 "Was it not sufficient that I so decided?" was 
 the girl's answer calmly given. 
 
 "No! Assuredly not," he retorted earnestly but 
 quietly. "Even the law grants the accused the 
 right to hear the charge against him and to plead 
 in his own defense. When a man is condemned 
 unheard by the lady who has said ■'' 
 
 "What she prefers not to remember, her wish 
 
 should be the only law to ," again she made the 
 
 least perceptible pause — "the gentleman." 
 
 Fraser Ravanel looked steadil}^ at the half 
 averted face while he might have counted thirty; 
 no perceptible change showing itself on his own. 
 Then he said in low, even voice: 
 
 "I have always thought myself a man — I have 
 
82 CMAG-NJSST. 
 
 believed you a woman, Valerie Coiirtenay. So I 
 speak to you now; not as society gentleman to lady. 
 When we parted that night in Kiehniond; when I 
 had asked for, and 3^ou had granted a pledge " 
 
 "Which 1 have said I would forget," she broke 
 in, her voice quivering, her eyes darkening upon 
 the river. 
 
 " Which you had taught me to expect; and 
 
 to which I claim I have forfeited no right," he 
 went on, ignoring the interruption, "I w^as cast 
 aside as a used glove; my letters first unanswered, 
 then returned unopened! Should not justice, if 
 not courtesy, grant me an explanation?" 
 
 "To what avail?" she queried, her face still 
 averted ; the bosom of her close fitting habit rising 
 and falling rapidly. 
 
 "That I may clear myself of unjust suspicion," 
 the man answered firmly. "When one who has 
 ever kept faith with man and woman gives his 
 solemn pledge " 
 
 "He should keep it for at least an hour, Mr. 
 Ravanel!" Her face turned full to him; her eyes 
 steadily meeting his that never fell before their 
 searching accusation, although some wonderment 
 rose into them. 
 
 "I am waiting." His voice was not raised or 
 changed. "Please go on; you can not deny my 
 right to be curious, now." 
 
 "You can not deny my right to act as I did," 
 
SY THE ''DAUGHTER OF THE STARS." 33 
 
 she answered rapidly, ^'if you have memory enough 
 to recall that night at the station." 
 
 "I recall every instant of it," he said very gently ; 
 "how you looked and spoke at the ball; how you 
 were good enough to dance but once; how I pledged 
 my word never to dance again, until I might with 
 you; how we left the crowded room for the con- 
 servatory; how I there spoke words that " 
 
 "Had far better been left unsaid." She sat 
 erect in saddle; her cheeks burning, with her eyes 
 still fixed bravely on his. 
 
 "Perhaps," he answered low but firmly; "but I 
 must first ask you to prove that, as far as I am 
 concerned." 
 
 "What need?" she answered more hotly; the 
 swell of her bosom more rapid. "I retained my 
 eyesight that night, even if you lost your memory. 
 But we are in the mountains, and we are playing 
 at society. Let us end the comedy and rejoin my 
 cousins." 
 
 As she spoke she turned her horse's head 
 quickly; but with equal swiftness the black barred 
 her way. 
 
 "One moment first," the man said gravely. "It 
 is no comedy to me; nor are the scenes of my mak- 
 ing. But you, Valerie Courtenay, were the first 
 woman to whom I ever spoke serious word of love; 
 you make yourself the first lady whose command 
 I have disobeyed. No man of my race has ever 
 
 3 
 
84 VRAG-NEST. 
 
 proved disloyal to his plighted word. I were dis- 
 loyal to them and to myself, did I not demand 
 something more definite than this merely hinted 
 charge!" 
 
 The girl's lip curled and her voice was hard 
 that scoffed: 
 
 "Keally, sir, you are a better actor than I had 
 suspected." 
 
 "Possibly," he answered quietly, but more 
 rapidly, "for I feel as I act. I am no child; you no 
 woman to speak lightly such words as you once 
 said to me. Why should we throw away what 
 might be precious to us both, when a single word 
 from you might clear up a hideous mistake that 
 comes between uts? Valerie! Through all these 
 many months; through silence, even contempt, I 
 have never doubted you. No! do not speak! Had 
 I, my self respect had never let me allude to the 
 past, far less plead for the future, as I do now." 
 
 Once more the girl's eyes fell before his earnest 
 gaze, resting on — if not seeing — the far rolling 
 river. Once more the rapid movement of her 
 bosom spoke the hot tumult within; but the full 
 lips pressed firmly together, and the clinch of her 
 hand upon the rein bore her spirited horse some 
 paces backward. But she spoke no word; and 
 again the man — low and rapidly, and with some- 
 thing like pity in his voice— said: 
 
 "Do not be afraid to speak ! Anything is better 
 
BY THE ''DAUGHTER OF THE STARS." 35 
 
 than this silence; anything more just to me and to 
 — yourself!" 
 
 "What need?" the voice was scarcely hers in 
 its tremulous hardness; "you must remember that 
 night!" 
 
 "I have told you I do," he answered. "When 
 you left the ball room, I said I would see you at 
 the train. There I slipped the rosebud into the 
 little hand that spoke farewell so loyally; the 
 train that bore you from me moved rapidly awa}^, 
 but left me full of joy and hope." 
 
 The girl's lips quivered as she still looked at the 
 river. Two deep red spots rose to her cheeks and 
 something like a sob seemed to rise into her throat; 
 but she bravely conquered herself, saying only: 
 
 "Was that all?" 
 
 "That was all," he answered firmly, "save that 
 you went from me, either to sport with, or 
 strangely to misjudge me. If I speak falsely, by 
 your truth to your own womanhood, I demand that 
 you prove it!" 
 
 A changed woman turned in that saddle; her 
 form erected and her glowing eyes fixed upon his 
 with glance as proud and stern as his own. The 
 red had gone from her face, but left it firm as 
 pale, as with steady voice she answered: 
 
 "I have sought, honestly, to avoid this expla- 
 nation and yourself equally. You taunt me with 
 injustice; and demand, by my honor and self 
 
56 CRAG-NE8T. 
 
 respect, the brutality of words! Very well; you 
 slioll have them. That train you saw whirl me 
 away, soon backed swiftly into the depot, opposite. 
 From its window, a chance glance showed me an 
 incoming train. From it stepped a — lady. A 
 gentleman scanning the train approached eagerly. 
 There was surprised recognition — joyous greeting. 
 An instant, and her head was on his shoulder — 
 his arms about her!" 
 
 Pale, with compressed lips and brows con- 
 tracted, over eyes that gleamed back almost 
 fiercely into hers, Fraser Ravanel sat motionless 
 in his saddle, with never a word of reply. So, for 
 what might have been many seconds. Then the 
 man, all himself once more, backed his horse from 
 her path as he lifted his hat with graceful sweep 
 and said in his soft, drawing-room voice: 
 
 "We will hunt for your cousins. Miss Courte- 
 nay." 
 
A BIT OF SAGE ADVICE. 37 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 A BIT OF SAGE ADVICE. 
 
 The ball to welcome its new military neighbors 
 was in mid revel at Crag-Nest. The house had 
 been so arranged as to give the most space possible 
 to the dancers; tightly drawn tent flies, draj)ed 
 with borrowed flags, enclosed the wide verandah 
 and formed a cosy supper room, where a buffet, 
 amply filled with solids and sweets, and majes- 
 tically presided over by Ezekiel, in even more 
 ample show of linen, tempted old and young in in- 
 tervals of talk or dance. The glassed conserva- 
 tory — Mrs. Courtenay's pride and solace, in those 
 intervals when her hospitality took vacation from 
 very lack of material on which to lavish it — opened 
 inviting doors upon this improvised supper room ; 
 and its cool walks, bordered with tall, tubbed gar- 
 den plants and some rare exotics, lit by softened 
 gleam of swinging lamps, enticed more than 
 one waltz-w^earied couple to seductive seats in 
 shadowed corners. 
 
 Colonel Calvert had walked "the opening 
 polonaise" of the fete with his stately kinswoman; 
 her severe black costume relieved for the occasion 
 by soft falls of rare old lace, unique of design and 
 time-shaded from amber to rich coffee color. And 
 
S8 CRAG- NEST. 
 
 a gracious pair they showed, those relics of the 
 good old times; merry, calm and grand, through 
 their rhythmic walk, with best adherence to time 
 permissible under coercion of an improvised or- 
 chestra — two fiddles, flute and guitar. Grave, 
 watchful and yet with nearer approach to tremor 
 than ever hostile charge had brought him, the 
 colonel led the dance; his step measured, his head 
 erect above the deep, inflated chest; and his bows 
 perfection. And his partner's pace was measured 
 stateliness, equal to his own; serene pleasure 
 seated upon her strongly marked features, now 
 softly flushed with pleasurable thought of joy to 
 others at her bidding. Then — the polonaise com- 
 pleted and the lancers danced, "just to break the 
 ice, you know," as Rob Maury explained — the 
 negro fiddlers struck up a rattling waltz and eager 
 beaux sought no unwilling partners. Gray shell- 
 jackets, orange trimmed and yet unsmirched with 
 powder and camp smoke, contrasted prettily with 
 soft dresses of the girls; for, so early in the war no 
 scarcity was felt, even in matter of dress, and the 
 guests embraced the whole higher population of 
 the lower Valley accessible to call. Fair faces and 
 graceful forms showed on every hand; the varying 
 types proclaiming descent from many a different 
 stock; but — brunette or blonde, matron or maid — 
 each woman present showed the ease of access to 
 "the best society," and the nameless charm ol 
 
A BIT OF SA(,'E ADVICE. 39 
 
 gentle breeding gave a tone to the whole affair, too 
 often missing in more ambitious congregations of 
 some great city's "leaders." Nor were the men 
 lacking in that courtliness and deference to sex, 
 typical of old Virginian days. The undecorated 
 jacket of the beardless youth, the star-decked coat 
 of the chevroned officer, alike covered the best 
 blood of the Old Dominion; for the — th Cavalry 
 was truly a corps cVcJUe, and sire and son of that 
 day made practical the idea of the German poet: 
 
 Honor to woman! To her it is given 
 
 To garland tlie eartli witli the roses of heaven! 
 
 Waltz, quadrille and lancers had succeeded 
 each other, soft speech from bearded lips had 
 brought the pleasure-flush to delicate cheeks; 
 and already the polished, bald forehead of Eze- 
 kiel and his household staff gleamed with shinier 
 ebon, from the moisture of grateful exercise. But 
 '^the labor we delight in physics pain;" and the 
 butler of Crag-Nest grew less stately — indeed al- 
 most condescended to graciousness — under con- 
 sciousness of pleasure-giving, as viceroy of that 
 house's head. 
 
 "One shabin' ov da ham, Morse Wirt!" he plead, 
 holding back the plate for which the veteran ex- 
 tended his hand. "Miss 'Ginia raised da pig, sah; 
 an' I'be seed to de curin' mysef! Jess a shabin', 
 sah; ter gib da ellerment fur da bone-tukkey." 
 
40 CRAG-NEST. 
 
 A dexterous twist of the slim, keen carver curled 
 the rich, red meat across its back as the negro 
 spoke; and he extended the plate with a bow in 
 which grandeur and gratified pride bore equal 
 part. 
 
 "Yes, Cousin Virginia," the colonel went on— 
 not forgetting his grave bow of acknowledgment 
 as he took the plate, "I repeat that no home in the 
 Valley — I might add, in all our state — can equal 
 Crag-Nest for its combination of home-comfort, 
 old-school courtliness and generosity of welcome. 
 Why, were poor Courtenay looking down upon us 
 now, even that prince of entertainers could ask 
 no addition to this scene. It makes me young 
 again! It makes me i^rouder of my boys, to see 
 that they need as little disciplining for the parlor 
 as they do for the field. Jove! I would not scruple 
 to order a chance detail from the — th to fall out, 
 and carry them to a soiree at the Marquis' palace, 
 without a word of warning!" 
 
 "You are right, kinsman," the hostess replied 
 with a half sigh. "I have heard slurs upon us for 
 our state-love and for our assumed superiority. 
 But is it assumed, or actual? Look over these 
 youths — boys, some of them; and tell me if the 
 mothers of any state send more precious 'food for 
 powder', or send more bravely and willingly, for 
 duty's sake!" 
 
 "None!" he answered sonorously, with swift 
 
A BIT OF SAGE ADVICE. 41 
 
 sweep aside of his mustache. "In this home- 
 brewed punch I drink to these mothers of noble 
 sons. Scoffers call our state the mother of presi- 
 dents, Jove! they will learn to respect her as the 
 mother of soldiers!" 
 
 A gleam of sadness swept across the matron's 
 face, glowing responsive to his words, as she an- 
 swered : 
 
 "Is ever before have I so regretted, cousin, that 
 there was no heir to Crag-Nest! And yet, what 
 horrid gaps this war may make in all Virginia 
 homes. Think of the mourning left from Ma- 
 nassas!" 
 
 ''Diilce ft decorum r^ the soldier quoted gravely, 
 setting down his emptied glass, not without a little 
 smack of the mustache-hidden lips. "Bellona is 
 the twin of sireless Mors, Cousin Virginia. Revo- 
 lutions are not made with rose water; and this 
 one is against a race akin to us; as staunch and 
 stubborn as ourselves — although we have the 
 right to fight for. Some of these youngsters will 
 drop out of our ranks — many a one will leave his 
 legacy of sorrow and tears behind; but each will 
 leave also his legacy of glory for his own name, and 
 of incentive to his comrades who remain! They 
 arc a splendid set of fellows! Jove! I do not be- 
 lieve any Washington soiree could equal their 
 natural ease and elegance. My old comrades at 
 St. Cyr had equal outside polish; they never 
 
42 CRAO-NEST. 
 
 equaled those inner graces of head and heart, 
 born with these boys of mine!" 
 
 "There is the most disiinguc man present," Mrs. 
 Courtenay answered; adding with half regret, half 
 wonder: — "And he is not a Virginian." 
 
 "He is first cousin to it," her kinsman replied, 
 with a thoughtful twist of his mustache tips. 
 "South Carolina is most like us, of all the Con- 
 federacy; only she is a trifle hide-bound and be- 
 lieves no state equal to her. A good fault for a 
 soldier-producing countrj^, cousin. And, besides, 
 Fraser IJavanel was educated in France, at U Ecole 
 Polytccliniqiic.'' 
 
 "And he seems to admire Wythe very much," 
 the lady retorted, more gravely than relevantly. 
 
 "Jove! I should order a court of inquiry on 
 him if he did not," the veteran answered with a 
 smile. "And now, Ezekiel, just another scrap of 
 that chicken-salad and a shaving of ham!" 
 
 "Oh! Cousin Wirt, isn't this just too nice a 
 dance?" W^ythe Dandridge cried as she came up 
 radiant, flushed and leaning on Mr. Kavanel's gold- 
 embellished sleeve. "But I must have some 
 lemonade. Give me a glass. Uncle Ziek; quick, for 
 I'm so thirsty." 
 
 "Try this punch, my dear," the colonel an- 
 swered, handing her a brimming glass. "Lemon, 
 rum, tea, cognac and champagne; the very Regent's 
 receipt the Marquis gave my father, the year I was 
 
A BIT OF SAGE ADVICE. 43 
 
 born!" And Sir Charles Grandison had made no 
 grander bow than that the veteran bent over the 
 thin glass proffered to the young girl. 
 
 "Your home is perfection, for entertaining, Mrs 
 Courtenay," Ravanel said easily. "Ma is very 
 proud of her wide rooms, overlooking the Battery, 
 with Charleston harbor stretching away to the 
 ocean. But, to us from the lowlands, the grand 
 old mountains out there are even grander; and this 
 glorious air is a real tonic." 
 
 "I rejoice that you like the Valley, sir," the old 
 lady replied half absently; "but I remember how 
 lonely your mother must be, in her seaside home, 
 if you are her only child." 
 
 For an instant only, the man stood mute; then, 
 flushing hotly, he answered rapidl}^: 
 
 "Yes, ma'am; I am my mother's only child!" 
 
 And Val Courtenay, leaning upon a burly 
 major's arm, passed near enough to catch the 
 words, and answer rather at random to her escort's 
 glowing compliment, as her aunt waved her fan 
 with old school grace as accent to her words: 
 
 "And I can realize how justly proud she must 
 be of you, sir." 
 
 But the girl's face grew dark and stern, and 
 her eyes — droj)ped on the floor — had an evil gleam 
 in them, as the old lady's praise fell upon her ear. 
 And the blood surged tingling toward her brain, 
 as the bright supper room changed for her to a 
 
44 CRAG-NE8T. 
 
 dingy, smoke filled railway station; and memory's 
 cam( ra held up the bold negative of a pale faced 
 girl, crushing a white rose in her clinched hand, 
 as she saw a tall, graceful man bend his head and 
 press the lips of the eager-seeming woman clasped 
 in his arms! And, as she raised her eyes, Val 
 Courtenay felt that man's full upon them; while 
 Wythe Dandridge, refreshed by the colonel's pre- 
 scription, cried to her: 
 
 "Oh! Yal, isu^t it too nice? And Mr. Eavanel 
 declares he doesn't dance well! You know if he 
 used to; and I'm sure he must!" 
 
 Herself in a moment, the older girl slammed 
 memory's camera close shut; the man before her 
 was an every day acquaintance at once, and her 
 voice wholly indifferent as she answered: 
 
 "I believe Mr. Eavanel was considered the best 
 dancer in Richmond." 
 
 "Which reminds me that I should claim you 
 quickly. Miss Dandridge, before his prowess cap- 
 tures my waltz with you," the burly major broke 
 in. And next instant the young girl — her hand 
 slipped into the speaker's arm, as she moved to- 
 ward the dancing room — turned a glowing face 
 over her shoulder and cried: 
 
 "Oh, Val! make him dance again, then! You 
 can have the second from this, Mr. Ravanel." 
 
 Only the four stood near the buffet; the colonel 
 and the hostess facing them; Val Courtenay and 
 
A BIT OF SAGE ADVICE. 45 
 
 her dismissed lover facing each other with perfect 
 nonchalance in seeming, but wary watch in either's 
 eyes, as in the trained fencer's. A second's 
 silence; then Kavanel's voice fell soft and low upon 
 the girl's ear: 
 
 "I were indeed recreant knight did I refuse to 
 lift that gage, Miss Courtenay," he said. "Will 
 you risk my want of practice, and dance with 
 me?" 
 
 Never hesitating one instant, but with closer 
 pressure of her lips and slight paling of her exer- 
 cise-flushed cheeks, Val Courtenay answered 
 slowly: 
 
 "I do not fear your — want of practice, Mr. 
 Ravanel." 
 
 "And you will dance?" he cried more eagerly. 
 
 "I am under my own roof; you are my aunt's 
 guest," she replied, so low that only the man 
 caught the words, as she turned from the others 
 and let her fingers barely touch the arm he 
 had proffered as eagerly as he spoke. "As her 
 representative, I should regret an ungracious act, 
 even did inclination prompt it." 
 
 He halted an instant. Then his lips set tight 
 under their drooping black fringe, and he moved 
 on again toward the music. Neither spoke word 
 more as his arm passed about her slim waist and 
 the pair glided out amid the dancers. One brief turn, 
 and the burly major swung Wythe full against the 
 
46 CRAG-NEST. 
 
 graceful moving pair; even the Carolinian's strong 
 arm and dexterous guidance failing to avert col- 
 lision. But as they recovered poise, Val Courte- 
 nay stood free of his encircling arm, smiling 
 quietly at the major's warm excuses; while Wythe, 
 her eyes dancing and her cheeks aglow, was crying: 
 
 '•Oh! aren't you ashamed, Mr. Ravanel? You 
 do dance as well as you ride!" 
 
 "That's saying a great deal. Miss Wythe!" Rob 
 Maury puffed out, as he ran up mopping his brow. 
 "May I have a turn?" 
 
 But Wythe's blue eyes were still upon the other 
 man's and, his making the query suggested by his 
 words, he answered for her: 
 
 "I believe Miss Dandridge promised me." 
 
 Only a nod at Rob was her reply; her hand 
 upon the Carolinian's shoulder and her little feet 
 flying in time to those of the best partner she had 
 ever met. And Val Courtenay's eyes moved from 
 the fair, joyous face to the dark, stern-set one, with 
 the pity in them changing to angry contempt as 
 she caught his almost whisper: 
 
 "/ have kept my pledge!" 
 
 "And may I hope. Miss Courtenay — ," the 
 major began. But Val — coming back to society 
 in view of impending martyrdom — smiled sweetly 
 on him as she put her hand on Rob Maury's 
 shoulder, saying: 
 
 "So sorry; but I promised my cousin!" 
 
A BIT OF SAGE AD VICE. 47 
 
 "That fellow, Ravanel, does everything well!" 
 Rob puffed, as he dodged unskillful dancers. ''By 
 jingo, cousin, you and he moved as if you were 
 made for each other!" 
 
 The girl's feet were suddenly still; her slim 
 hand slid into the boy's arm, and she said rather 
 wearily: 
 
 "It is so warm! Let us go on the piazza a 
 moment." 
 
 The violins still scraped merrily to twang of 
 the guitars, a half hour later; but mortal feet are 
 not really winged, even in youth, and at last Wythe 
 Daudridge wearied in the flesh — whatever she 
 might have done in spirit — of her new found part- 
 ner. Eager and flushed, she was listening naively 
 to the pleasant sound of his low-voiced narration, 
 as they strolled through the supper room, past the 
 wide doors of the conservatory and down the 
 narrow walk between the tubs. The place seemed 
 deserted; their slow-moving feet making no sound 
 upon the plank. Suddenly, just at its turn, voices 
 fell clear and sharp through the scented air. A 
 woman's was saying, rather wearily: 
 
 "Love is ever but a chance. One should be 
 very sure before confessing; doubly so, before pro- 
 claiming it! And you are so young." 
 
 The Carolinian halted, quickly as at command; 
 his face grave and stern, as his glance swept 
 rapidly his companion's. Its flush had gone; a 
 
48 CRAG^'EST. 
 
 wondering query rising in its place; but ere he 
 could turn, the man's rapid answer came: 
 
 ''Young! Love like mine is born old! You 
 know it has lived for years! You know how deep 
 and true and honest it is! You must understand 
 me! — And I tell you, I must have an answer! 1 
 must know if lie is in my way! I tell you I begin 
 to hate — Ravanel!" 
 
 Wythe Dandridge's eyes, wide appealing out 
 of her now ashen face, met those of the man be- 
 side her. They were glinting with an ugly light; 
 his lips drawn in and his cheek as pale as her own. 
 But he faced quickly for the door, bending his head 
 as he whispered shortly: 
 
 "Come! We are de trop here!" 
 
 And the girl, resting heavily on his arm, fol- 
 lowed his stronger will mechanically as a low, 
 mocking laugh and well-known voice followed 
 them: 
 
 "Nonsense! You will learn that I am your 
 truest friend! Love is a delusion, Rob. I know, 
 for I am old enough to be your — aunt!" 
 
UNDER THE STUAIN. 49 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 UNDER THE STRAIN. 
 
 Almost two years had passed since Mrs. Courte- 
 nay's ball for the — th Cavalry ; years of which the 
 weeks made history so fast, that not even the worst 
 sufferers by its making could count its mile-stones 
 in swift rush by them. Seven Pines and Seven 
 Days had told their tales of strategy and blood 
 and constancy. Riddled Fredericksburg now sat 
 widowed, amid her desolated fields. Twice had 
 the "bare-footed boys" crossed the historic river 
 and marched almost greedily to the feast of death 
 awaiting them on Korthern soil; twice had they 
 marched back from carnage that, typing the hero- 
 ism of both sides to it, was yet void of real result. 
 
 The meteor campaign of Stonewall Jackson had 
 made the Valley its deathless name in chronicle; 
 but, too, that fateful blow had fallen which struck 
 closest to the heart of the South, and left the name 
 of Chancellorsville a synonym for woe! 
 
 The dull echo of the guns at Vicksburg was 
 heard no more; silenced for aye by that capitula- 
 tion which, close following the retreat from Gettys- 
 burg, made the national day a veritable dies irae 
 for the South. 
 
 And now the Valley of the Shenandoah had 
 4 
 
50 CRAG-NEST. 
 
 been plowed by hostile batteries; furrowed by the 
 flying hoofs of Federal and Confederate in turn, 
 as raid and campaign came thundering down its 
 defiles, only to be hurled back by the stubborn 
 constancy of their defenders. 
 
 Winchester, the once glad queen of the lower 
 Valley, had fairly earned her title of the "race 
 track," given her by General Crook; each height 
 and streamlet for miles around her now made 
 classic by daring dash or stubborn combat; her 
 fair fields, one straggling cemetery for the name- 
 less and the noted dead; her very streets blood 
 spattered and her house fronts bullet scarred, 
 from many a rush through them of pursuer and 
 pursued. Yet, with that filial love for the mother 
 town, peculiarly Virginian, the women of Win- 
 chester — and only they were left with youngest 
 stripling and the very aged — sat by their desolated 
 hearths and, almost hopeless, still hoped on. 
 
 Worse still, if possible, was the plight of those 
 homes in the Valley, more scattered and remote 
 from the sympathy and encouragement of closer 
 contact; for the scythe of the sword had harvested 
 well. Broad fields, late smiling with plenty, 
 stretched away blackened and bare; tall barns, 
 late filled with food for man and beast, swung 
 open doors before their emf)tiness, where indeed 
 the torch had left them more than charred 
 skeletons. Stock and implements of production 
 
UNDER THE STRAIN. 51 
 
 had alike shriveled in the red flame of war; and 
 many even of the old family servants had followed 
 the Will-o'-the-wisp, misnamed Freedom, leaving 
 the women-tenanted homesteads pitiably helpless. 
 
 Crag-Nest was scarce exception to this general 
 rule; albeit the strong character and clear com- 
 mon sense of its mistress — aided by unusual 
 storage of supplies and by the steadfast fidelity of 
 old Ezekiel — had so far kept the war-whelped wolf 
 somewhat farther from the door. 
 
 Heedless alike of advice from friends and ur- 
 gence by relatives, Mrs. Courtenay had remained 
 amid her lessening household gods; and there with 
 her now were Val Courtenay and Wythe Dand- 
 ridge, the old negro and his aged wife completing 
 the household. Little change showed in the 
 matron's face or figure; the sti'oug lines of the 
 one perhaps a trifle deeper, the outline of 
 the other no less firm and erect, albeit the plain 
 bhick dress showed somewhat the touch of time. 
 The elder girl, more grave and thoughtful as a 
 rule, still upbore bravely under the pressure; the 
 old time flashes of her saucy merriment sheering 
 through the gloom about them. But Wythe, in 
 her childlike simplicity of nature and her more 
 matured personal charm, showed more plainly re- 
 sults of ''time and the hour." 
 
 Gay and grave by turns, she gave way not in- 
 frequently to possession by the ''blue devils"; and 
 
52 CHAG-JS'EST. 
 
 more than once Val had found her in floods of 
 bitter tears, which only strongly worded remon- 
 strance had turned away from the straight road to 
 hysterics. Pale and with more distinct lines 
 beneath her appealing eyes, Wythe was a more 
 attractive woman than in her baby-beauty days, 
 when the — th Cavalry had ridden so gaily to the 
 mountain. 
 
 But the most changed part of that household 
 was the whilom stately Ezekiel; gorgeous no 
 longer in his brass-buttoned swallow-tail and 
 wealth of immaculate linen, but replacing both by 
 a doubtful hued army shirt; while the carefully 
 brushed but worn folds of the former were stowed 
 away in hiding in ''da loff ov da barn," only to be 
 donned on great occasions of advancing raid, or 
 greater ones of rebel yelling pursuit. 
 
 Neither of the girls had met their partners of 
 the ball since that eventful night; and one of them 
 had never voluntarily let the name of hers pass her 
 lips. In their own apartment, Wythe had some- 
 times introduced the theme, only to have it ab- 
 ruptly changed by her cousin with the curt truth 
 that ''there were more serious things to think of"; 
 and now her lips also were sealed on the tacitly 
 tabooed subject. 
 
 The morning succeeding the dance the girl had 
 risen pale, sick and feverish; later taking to bed 
 with a sharp attack of what the country doctor 
 
UNDER THE STRAIN. 53 
 
 pronounced "nervous fever; result of heat, over 
 exercise and excitement." Val, nursing her faith- 
 fully for weeks, had been glad of excuse for seeing 
 no visitors, save Eob, in his flying calls each day. 
 But the sick girl only grew restless and pettish, 
 when his messages were faithfully delivered; and 
 all her cousin's coaxing had only drawn from her 
 the stereotyped phrase: "There's no answer." 
 Then, one night the colonel rode over in hot haste 
 and bade them all farewell. A threatened raid 
 by Averell into Western Virginia had brought 
 orders to move at dawn; only temporarily the 
 veteran thought. But weeks passed; and then an 
 infantry regiment moved down the Valley, camp- 
 ing on the cavalry's old ground. Then came the 
 active movements of the spring, and the cavalry 
 was kept on the go about the border; so the women 
 saw no more of their kinsmen. 
 
 But in all those long months, Wythe Dandridge 
 never breathed to Val one word of her chance 
 eavesdropping. Gentle, affectionate, and yielding 
 as ever to her stronger cousin, she felt that she had 
 been slighted for her by the youth she thought had 
 loved her; and her pride waited vainly for some 
 confidence from the other side, which might give 
 her the whole story of his proposal to Val, which 
 she felt had been too lightly valued and scornfully 
 refused. So, when no such confidence came, the 
 girl shut up the memory in her sore little heart; 
 
54 CRAG-NEST 
 
 drifting further away on a drearj^ sea of doubt and 
 vainly striving to give sliape to the Elmos-fire of 
 her false imaginings. And Val Courtenay — firmly 
 belies ing that the pure heart of her one cousin had 
 wandered wholly away from the other, in its reach- 
 ing for higher conquest of the man she herself had 
 once loved and, as she believed honestly, now 
 despised — waited for some word or hint that would 
 give her ground for serious warning. She had 
 even resolved, in her unselfish watch over her 
 weaker friend, not to spare herself, did it prove 
 needful to tell the whole story of her own trust and 
 of the bitter awakening from it. But word, nor 
 hint, came from the strangely closed lips of the 
 other; and a tacit compact seemed to raise itself 
 between the pair to ''let the dead past bury its 
 dead," after its own fashion and in cerements of 
 silence. 
 
 At first frequent letters came from Rob Maury 
 to his cousin, filled with query of, and messages to, 
 Wythe. To the former she could give no intelli- 
 gent reply; for the girl would listen dully to the 
 latter, only repeating her invariable formula: 
 "There's no answer!" So, gradually, the letters 
 grew less frequent; finally ceasing altogether 
 under pressure of distance, active campaigning 
 and other reasons, as Val told herself. For she 
 believed that the boy, like herself, had at least 
 caught the drift of his sweetheart's preference; 
 
UNDER THE STRAIN. 55 
 
 and the pride of their common blood sided with 
 and applauded his decision. 
 
 Of Rob, however, they still had frequent news 
 in his colonel's letters to Crag-Nest; and these 
 spoke of his good soldiership and refusal of pro- 
 motion, to stick to his position as chief of the scouts 
 organized by him. The letters also spoke some- 
 times of Captain Eavaners good work and upward 
 progress. But from neither direct did any letter 
 now come; Wythe having promptly returned two 
 bulky missives Eob first sent, and that young 
 gentleman having refrained from repetition. But 
 when the colonel's letters came, Mrs. Courtenay 
 would read them aloud and — naturally warming 
 to their theme, amid her present surroundings — 
 would descant volubly upon the grandeur of her 
 kinsman and the noble conduct of his brave 
 boys. 
 
 Not wholly cheery were those long evenings 
 around the lamp, in the now barer parlor of Crag- 
 Nest, as the three women plied busy needles on the 
 coarse fabrics for soldiers' needs, with tongues no 
 less busy, when their theme was the suffering and 
 trials of those for whom they wrought. But less 
 cheery still, to the two girls, were those evenings 
 when the colonel's letters came; for then the 
 matron, her needle laid aside, would read aloud, 
 re-read, and descant on them; her hearers sitting 
 with heads bowed over their work and needles 
 
56 chag-xest. 
 
 flying swifter through it, but with wholly silent 
 tongues. 
 
 So the weeks of the summer of '63 dragged 
 their slow lengths along, strangely unbroken to 
 those patient-waiting women, save by rumor of 
 distant strife, and by occasional sounds of distant 
 cannonading, dully echoing from further down the 
 Valley. But one bright, crisp morning Ziek ap^ 
 peared before his mistress, garbed as of yore, save 
 for the frayed edges of his huge standing collar; 
 his great eyes rolling with excitement as he cried: 
 
 "Da's comin'. Mis' 'Ginia, an' I tinks I better 
 mount Selim an' reckonloiter 'em up da road." 
 
 Permission given — for it was the faithful 
 black's habit thus to scout, before each advance of 
 friend or foe — Ezekiel was soon galloping up the 
 Winchester pike, upon the lank mule, now sole 
 component of the Crag-Nest stud. For the slick, 
 horses had long since been impressed for artillery 
 need; and Val — not without secret and bitter 
 tears shed upon his neck, embraced by her fair 
 arms — had long since sent her gallant chestnut 
 to Kob, with a brief line to urge him to use the 
 horse as a man should in his country's need. 
 
VARVim^ VISITATIONS. 67 
 
 CHArTER VI. 
 
 VARYING VISITATIONS. 
 
 Once more the lady of Crag-Nest and her two 
 girls waited expectant on the old porch, gazing 
 across the neglected lawn, to the now broken fence 
 and half dismantled gate. About the porch, and 
 the steps leading to it, stood tubs and pots, lifted 
 from the now unsashed conservatory; but some 
 nameless sympathy showed between the plants 
 and their changed mistresses, for they seemed 
 weaker, less thriving and somewhat uncared for 
 in the garish, summer sunlight. 
 
 And as the expectant women waited the return 
 of their faithful old courier, the sound of many 
 hoofs advancing rapidly broke upon the air, draw- 
 ing nearer and nearer, until whirling dust clouds 
 showed about the turn of the hill beyond, and 
 through them emerged the head of a cavalry 
 column. With clatter of hoof and clank of ac- 
 coutrements, the column — a considerable body — 
 came on and passed the gate; three riders drawing 
 out from its head and turning in toward the house. 
 
 "Welcome, my kinsman!" Mrs. Courtenay cried, 
 running down the steps with outstretched hand 
 and glowing face, as she recognized Col, Calvert. 
 
 A moment later, the veteran threw himself 
 
58 CRAG- NEST. 
 
 from bis horse with the agility of a younger man; 
 but still stood erect by his bridle until his com- 
 panion dismounted more slowly, when both threw 
 their reins to the orderly. 
 
 "Ah! Cousin Virginia! As ready of welcome as 
 ever," the colonel cried. "But you know the gen- 
 eral, of course. You too, my fair kinswomen," he 
 added to the advancing girls, as he bent his tall 
 head over the old lady's hand; then turning to 
 sweep both fair foreheads with his grim mustache. 
 
 "Yes, indeed!" his companion cried with a 
 merry laugh, as he too took the matron's hand. 
 "He were a sorry Virginia trooper that did not 
 know Crag-Nest and its mistress!" 
 
 "She were a sorry Virginian, General," the old 
 lady answered with stately courtesy, "who did not 
 feel it honor to welcome one of your name and race 
 under her poor roof. Will you come in and rest 
 a while before luncheon?" she added with a tele- 
 graphic glance of warning to Val. 
 
 "Thank you, we really have no time. We are 
 on a forced march," the general answered 
 promptly. "But zounds! Colonel, I do envy you 
 the perquisites of that gray mustache! Would I 
 could change it, young ladies, for this foxy one of 
 mine^ — with the conditions!" And the general's 
 jovial laugh rang out clear, as he stroked his huge 
 brown beard with one hand and hitched up his 
 sword belt around his ample waist with the other. 
 
VARYING YISTTATIONS. 59 
 
 Rotund and short-necked, but with huge depth of 
 chest and vigorous frame, the noted cavalry chief 
 still looked everj inch a soldier. Port and feature 
 alike showed habit of command; and the jovial 
 kindliness of the face spoke out from firm and 
 resolute feature and clear, keen gray eyes. The 
 mouth was hidden b}' the long reddish mustache 
 that met the heavy beard sweeping half over his 
 chest;, and his raised hat showed ruddy masses of 
 hair of similar hue. His dress was the simple 
 shell jacket and high boots; the only rank-marks 
 the three stars and wreath upon his collar and the 
 flowing black plume, caught with a star. 
 
 "You have heard the news. Cousin Virginia," 
 the colonel said as his comi)anion's laugh died out. 
 "You know that we have been beaten back from 
 the very edge of a comi^lete success?" 
 
 "We have heard it all," the matron said 
 quietly; "Gettysburg, Vicksburg — all! God's 
 ways are the best. Cousin Wirt; but it is very 
 bitter." 
 
 "It is all in the fortunes of war, kinswoman," 
 the old man answered. "I am not so sure that Vol- 
 taire was wrong; and those fellows at Gettysburg 
 certainly had the heaviest battalions. But I 
 asked the general to stop with me a moment and 
 advise you to take shelter in Richmond." 
 
 "Yes; he is right," the general cried bluntly; 
 "Crag-Nest is very exposed and on the direct 
 
60 CRAG- NEST. 
 
 highway. We do not know surely, but I think, 
 for a while, gray jackets will be scarce in the 
 Valley." 
 
 "Are you not to camp near us again?" Wythe 
 asked eagerly. 
 
 "No; we are force marching to mass with 
 Hampton," the general answered, with a meaning 
 look at the colonel. "We were the rear guard 
 crossing the river. We both think it safer for 
 you ladies to seek shelter within the lines." 
 
 "And wherefore? We have so far been able 
 to protect ourselves from Yankee intrusion — of a 
 personal nature. Even those who took our stock 
 and supplies respected our sex." 
 
 "Perhaps, my kinswoman," the colonel re- 
 plied with a shrug of his broad shoulders; "but 
 then they knew we were always close behind them. 
 From this out we may be " 
 
 "Close in front, with them behind us,'' the gen- 
 eral broke in with a laugh. "But seriously, my 
 dear madam, your kinsman and I stopped solely 
 to give you this warning. Better heed it, while 
 you can." 
 
 "This is my home; the only one I have known 
 since girlhood," the old lady said gently, but very 
 firmly. "It is the second home of these dear 
 children; and broken as it is — denuded of so much 
 that could make our friends happy beneath its roof 
 — we love it as we could no other." 
 
VARYING VISITATIONS. 61 
 
 "We will be happier here with her, Cousin 
 Wirt; happier here with her than elsewhere," Val 
 Courtenay said advancing to her aunt's side — 
 "and as safe, under His care." 
 
 Colonel Calvert only pulled his mustache, per- 
 plexed; but the general said bluntly: 
 
 "Happier, perhaps. Miss Courtenay, but I doubt 
 the safety. This is not a question of Providence, 
 but of war's necessity. With the Valley overrun 
 and your friends out of reach, you Avould be cut 
 off and helpless. I strongly advise your removal 
 within our lines, as soon as convenient." 
 
 "You had best think seriousl}- of this, Cousin 
 Virginia," the colonel said gravely, "before it is 
 too late." 
 
 "I will think of it; and I thank you both for 
 your thought of us;" the old lady answered, her 
 head still erect. "But can not I induce you to 
 stay even for a glass of wine?" 
 
 "Impossible, madam. Colonel, we Avill have to 
 ride hard now to overtake the column," the gen- 
 eral answered; and with cordial adieux to the 
 ladies the soldiers were soon in saddle and gallop- 
 ing after the distant dust cloud. The three women 
 stood still and silent until they disappeared; then 
 Mrs. Courtenay cried : 
 
 "Why, girls! what want of thought! None of 
 us asked for Rob or Captain liavanel." 
 
 A vivid blush was Wythe's only answer; but 
 
62 CRAG-NEST. 
 
 Val Coiirtenay, placing her slim hand on the blue- 
 veined one, said quietly: 
 
 "And shall we move away, aunt?" 
 "I have promised them," the old lady answered 
 quietly, "I will think about it. But come, my 
 children, while Crag-Nest is our home, we have 
 duties in it." And the three Virginian women 
 turned their backs upon the bright sunshine and 
 moved into the silent house. All that day and the 
 next Ezekiel did not reappear; and the lonely 
 women wondered at his absence. But they did not 
 grow uneasy, for there was no hint of enemy in 
 the Valley; and they merely supposed that, taking 
 the wrong road, he had missed the friendly column, 
 and had wearied out his old mule in search for it. 
 But in the diminished household his absence was 
 seriously felt, though the girls cheerfully did all 
 they could to fill his place and lessen the extra 
 burthens upon the old negress. But on the 
 second evening, speculation ran into uneasiness; 
 and the girls tramped several miles to the nearest 
 neighbor to make inquiries and organize a search. 
 It was quite dark when they returned without 
 news; and doubt and fatigue made the simple 
 supper quieter and more gloomy than ever before. 
 That nameless foreboding which oppresses some- 
 times without cause, seemed to weigh upon the 
 household, sealing their lips like lead; and the 
 women separated early. Kissing her aunt for 
 
VARYING VISITATIONS. 63 
 
 good -night, Val Courtenay paused an instant; then 
 said gravely: 
 
 "I have been thinking over their warning, aunt. 
 As we walked across the mountain it seemed more 
 loneh^ and desolate than ever before. Per- 
 haps it would be safer to leave home — for the 
 present." 
 
 "In the hands of Providence, my child, we are 
 as safe in one place as another," the old lady an- 
 swered calmly. "Surely you do not fear these in- 
 solent invaders more than before. They have 
 visited us often enough to be too familiar to dread. 
 But, never mind. As I promised my kinsman; I 
 will think about it!" 
 
 In their own room, the girls were soon ready 
 for rest; and Wythe quickl}" yielded to fatigue and 
 slept deeply, if restlessly. Val placed her tallow 
 dip in its tall, silver candlestick upon the night 
 stand, her watch near it, and was about to follow 
 her cousin, when the latter tossed in her sleep and 
 spoke broken words: 
 
 "Come back to me — miss you so — know I need 
 you now — never loved Val — ," were the disjointed 
 phrases that fell upon her ear. Pale as her soft 
 gown, the girl bent upon the sleeper glowing eyes, 
 and a smile in which pity struggled with con- 
 tempt curled her lips. 
 
 "Poor little fool!" she said slowly to herself. 
 "Can she really love that — pshaw! It must be a 
 
64 CRAG-NEST. 
 
 passing fancy only; but he — the double traitor, to 
 dare! And under this roof — before my very face! 
 — On! she can not, really^ — but poor old Eob? To 
 throw him over so, without one word!" — She 
 paused as the other spoke again — "That man's 
 name! Silly child, you scarce deserve my pity. 
 That, and my contempt I should keep for my- 
 self!" 
 
 Moving noiselessly, she passed to the old-time 
 bureau, candle in hand; softly opened a drawer 
 and took up a tiny casket. Then she stood star- 
 ing at it a while; swift emotions chasing each other 
 across her face as her eyes riveted upon the lid. 
 Raising them suddenly, the woman caught her re- 
 flection in the mirror, tall, weird and ghost-like in 
 the fitful candlelight; and vivid blush dyed the 
 oval of her face and slim, soft curves of neck, at her 
 own expression. Then the color died away, the 
 face hardened into resolution and the lips set 
 firm and almost cruel, as she sprung the casket's 
 lid with firm hand. From it she took a yellow, 
 time-stained note; a dance-card and a dry and 
 crumbling rosebud — v/hite once but now black, 
 powdering as she moved it with quick gesture of 
 disgust: 
 
 "Better one fool than two," she whispered 
 through set teeth. "Why should I keep these 
 milestones on my fool's errand of the past? What 
 is it to me who cares for him now ! Fraser Eava- 
 
VARVING VISITATlONti. 65 
 
 nel, God knows I do not hate you ! May He forgive 
 me for despising you!'' 
 
 One quick clinch of the slim, nervous hand, and 
 the dry bud was powder in it. Then slowly, but 
 not trembling, that hand held the little note and 
 dance-card in the sickly llame; the set lips once 
 more curling into contemptuous curves, as the 
 paper crinkled and blackened, then fell into a 
 little heap of gray ash. 
 
 Slowly the girl turned; once more set the 
 candle upon the stand, and placed the solid silver 
 extinguisher over the soft tallow. Then she sunk 
 noiselessly upon her knees, rested her forehead 
 upon the coverlid and prayed long and silently. 
 At last she rose, calm and placid; laid her head 
 upon the pillow and slept at once. 
 
 How long had passed she knew not; but sud- 
 denly Yal Courtenay found herself sitting bolt up- 
 right; wide awake and listening intently. Even 
 through the closed windows, the tramp of horses 
 came plainly to her ear; and they were rapidly 
 approaching the house. Springing up she threw 
 a wrapper about her, and passed to the window, 
 peering into the hazy gloom without. Then, her 
 eyes growing more accustomed to the dusky light, 
 she saw dim forms of horsemen moving swiftly up 
 the path; some halting directly in front of the 
 house, while others deployed right and left to sur- 
 round it. Plainly they were Federals, for she 
 
 5 
 
66 CRAG-NEST. 
 
 knew that friends would take no such precaution; 
 but, ere she had time to move, a familiar voice 
 broke quavering upon the night: 
 
 ''Mis' 'Ginia! Missus! The gennelmuns axes ter 
 be recebed.'- 
 
 Passing swiftly to the bedside. Val touched 
 her sleeping cousin lightly, saying, as she lit her 
 candle: 
 
 "Don't be frightened, dear. The Yankees are 
 here. Dress quickly and come down. I am going 
 to aunt." 
 
 She lit the second candle as she spoke and 
 passed from the room, the fitful gleam of the light 
 she held aloft projecting fantastic shadows across 
 the broad hall, that, in the midnight stillness, had 
 frightened many a woman, in other days than this. 
 But recking nothing of them, the girl passed 
 rapidly down the broad stair only to find the hall 
 door already open and the tall, erect, black figure 
 of her aunt, silhouetted against the gleam of the 
 candle sputtering in the night wind. And as she 
 hastened downward, Yal caught the clear voice — 
 no more perturbed than if ordering a glass refilled 
 at her own table: 
 
 "Ezekiel, why are you disturbing us at this un- 
 seemly hour? Dismount at once and go to your 
 own room." 
 
 "Dismount, sir!" echoed a clear voice from the 
 darkness without. There was a sound of quickly 
 
VARYING VISITATIONS. 67 
 
 given orders; a clank of sabers in dismounting and 
 the click of four carbines brought to a ready. 
 Next instant heavy boots tramped up the broad 
 steps and the tall officer in blue, flanked by Ezekiel 
 on the left, stood facing the lady, within the taper's 
 feeble gleam; while just around it dimly showed 
 the muzzles of the carbines; and at the moment 
 Val Courtenay passed to her aunt's side, without 
 a word, but placing her hand quietly upon her arm 
 in token of support. 
 
 "What has come over you, Ezekiel?" Mrs. 
 Courtenay queried, calmly ignoring the enemy's 
 presence. "I send you on an errand, you stay un- 
 seemly time and return with strange men at mid- 
 night." 
 
 u 'por' da Lor! Mis' 'Ginia, I dunna mysef,"' 
 Ezekiel began, forgetting all his dignity in the 
 emergency. "Da Yankee gennelmuns jess nabbed 
 da ole man " 
 
 "It is not his fault, madam. Permit me to ex- 
 plain," the tall soldier broke in, not discourteously. 
 "We were hanging on Fitz Lee's flank; but his 
 rear guard, under that old firebrand Calvert, held 
 us off " 
 
 "Pardon me, sir," Mrs. Courtenay interrupted 
 with perfect calmness. "As a perfect stranger, I 
 may save you awkwardness by stating that the 
 gentleman you refer to is my kinsman." 
 
 "You have reason to be proud of him, madam," 
 
68 CRAG- NEST. 
 
 the officer replied, passing liis gauntlet over his 
 mustache to repress a smile. "Briefly, your peo- 
 ple outnumbered and outrode us; we were forced 
 to by-paths, picked up this sable gentleman, and 
 found him as well known to the country side as 
 your home is to us, madam. His detention is our 
 fault. We have information that old — ahem! — 
 Colonel Calvert, and perhaps bigger game, are un- 
 der your roof. The house is surrounded, escape is 
 impossible. We want them." So speaking the 
 officer advanced one step toward the door; the old 
 negro making quick side step toward his mistress 
 and promptly facing him. 
 
 "Stand aside, Ezekiel," Mrs. Courtenay said 
 quietly, "I can not see our late visitors. To you, 
 sir, I can only say that you are much too late. The 
 only occupants of this house are three ladies — all 
 unarme<l. I regret extremely that you did not 
 arrive while my kinsman and his friends were here; 
 for they had given you more fitting reception for a 
 soldier." 
 
 "I am extremely sorry, madam, to discommode 
 you," the officer answered quietly. "I am Major 
 Buford, of the — Pennsylvania Cavalry. I am in- 
 formed that these rebel officers are here; and even 
 at the risk of incurring your displeasure, it is my 
 duty to convince myself that I am wrong." 
 
 "And pray, sir, if my word be insufficient, 
 how do you propose to do this?" The old 
 
VARYING riSITATTOXS. 69 
 
 lady's voice trembled slightly, but plainly uot 
 from fear. 
 
 "I regret that I shall be compelled to search 
 the house, madam," the ofiicer answered decis- 
 ively. '^I shall give you as little discomfort as 
 possible. Already my men are doing as much for 
 the outbuildings. Pardon me, it will not take 
 long.'' 
 
 As he spoke he pointed with his sword to 
 lanterns flashing here and there about the open 
 barn and deserted negro quarters, and again rais- 
 ing his hat he moved one step toward the door. 
 
 The lady of the house stepped back from the 
 entrance, her right hand holding the candle 
 steadily aloft, while her left gently sought her 
 niece's, as though to restrain her. 
 
 "We are defenseless women," she said, with 
 much the air ''The Austrian" might have used 
 to the rabble in the palace; "the sole resistance 
 we can make is protest. If, sir, your duty forces 
 you to violate the proprieties of my home, I my- 
 self will conduct you. Come, sir; this is our draw- 
 ing room." She flared the candlelight into the 
 empty room, as the soldier crossed the portal and 
 dolTed his hat. "Valerie, my child, I must not 
 leave you alone; come with us." 
 
 "Pardon me, madam," the Federal said, glanc- 
 ing into every corner of the bare room, "but per- 
 mit the negro to pilot us. The gentlemen we look 
 
70 * CRAG-NEST. 
 
 for are not apt to come for the asking. Our inter- 
 view might prove unpleasant, if nothing more, to 
 you ladies." 
 
 "In my husband's day," the matron answered 
 gravely, "he permitted no stranger to enter these 
 rooms unescorted. As his representative, I must 
 show you no less consideration. Come, sir. Time 
 must be precious to you, and we are wasting it." 
 She crossed the hall as she spoke, throwing wide 
 the door of her well-loved dining room; the Federal 
 at her right side, pistol in hand, and four dis- 
 mounted troopers with ready carbines bringing up 
 the rear. 
 
 So the strange procession passed the lower 
 rooms and clanked up the broad stairway; silent 
 and weird as the phantom host that leaguered the 
 walls of Prague. One after another the doors of 
 the vacant rooms were thrown wide by the firm 
 hand of their mistress, only to be proved bare and 
 tenantless to closest scrutiny. But reaching the 
 door facing the stair's head, Val stepped swiftly 
 forward and stretched her arm across the casing. 
 The officer, with quick gleam in his eye, made 
 movement to advance; but the girl, catching his ex- 
 pression, even in the dim light, answered it as 
 quietly as clearly: 
 
 "You mistake, sir. I only mean that this is a 
 lady's room." She rapped quickly on the door, 
 raising her voice as she finished: 
 
VARYING VISITATIONS. 71 
 
 "Wythe, are you dressed?" For answer the 
 door • swung wide, and even the rough troopers 
 stared at the pretty vision of the fair girl within; 
 pale and wide-eyed, with golden hair rippling loose 
 to the knees of her dark gown. Timorously, but 
 with brave effort to be calm, Wythe stepped for- 
 ward and joined her kinswomen. But she carried 
 in her hand the tall silver candlestick, leaving the 
 room behind her in darkness. 
 
 A quick smile twitched the mustache of the 
 Federal soldier, but his eye never left the windows 
 reflecting the candlelight through the gloom, as he 
 said : 
 
 •'Your pardon, ]\Irs. Courtenay, but we must 
 search this room. The delay makes it possible 
 that our quarry is here." 
 
 For the first time the old lady's lips trembled, 
 and the angry flash came to her eye, as the full, 
 rounded chin raised higher, and she began: 
 
 "Sir! I have said that this apartment is — " 
 
 "Ours, aunt!" Val broke in quietly. "Wythe 
 and I will open our bureau drawers and hat boxes, 
 if these — " she paused before the word — "gentle- 
 men will stand here and cover us with their car- 
 bines!" 
 
 Suiting action to word, she made a quick sign 
 to the other girl; the two passed into the room, 
 placing their candles on the bureau and rapidly 
 opening the deep, old-fashioned closets and throw- 
 
72 CRAG-NEST. 
 
 ing dresses and wraps hanging in them, out upon 
 the floor. Turning to the heavy, carved bedstead 
 they wheeled it away from the wall; and then the 
 elder girl turned to the quiet soldier at the door 
 and asked: 
 
 "You are satisfied, I hope, sir?" 
 
 The officer again passed his gauntlet swiftly 
 across his mustache; but he answered gravely and 
 courteously: 
 
 "May I enter one instant?" And not waiting 
 for permission he strode across to the window and, 
 raising the sash, peered below. Noting the sheer 
 drop, without cornice or foothold without, he 
 turned again to the hall; asked, by sign only, for 
 one of the candles and, raising it high above his 
 head, scanned the solid ceiling for trap-door, or 
 roof-scuttle. Seeing sign of none, he turned to the 
 matron and said quietly: 
 
 "You must comprehend, madam, how unpleas- 
 ant it is for us to have disturbed your rest and 
 made ourselves your unbidden guests. Duty, 
 though not always pleasant, must be performed. 
 And now, ladies, I will relieve you of our presence; 
 satisfied that our men are not here, at least in the 
 house." 
 
 "They are not here at all, sir," Mrs. Courtenay 
 replied haughtily. "Had they been, no daughter 
 of the Cabbells had misstated the fact. But I 
 must repeat my regret that they are miles away, 
 
VABYIJ^G VISITATIONS. 73 
 
 with their commands; else your reception had 
 been more fitting than an old woman and two girls 
 could possibly offer. As your duty here is fin- 
 ished, I bid you good-night, sir! Ezekiel, attend 
 these gentlemen." 
 
 Ilis bow received by slightest inclination of her 
 stately head, the speaker moved to the stair head, 
 standing aside to let him pass; the black gravely 
 led the way down the dusky passage and the 
 troopers clanked down behind their leader. A 
 moment later the recall sounded without; the 
 scattered squads assembled for report of failure; 
 and then the party trotted briskly down the path 
 and were heard clattering along the hard pike 
 beyond. 
 
 "Oh! Aunt, how trying it must have been to 
 you!" Val cried, caressing the still grim old lady. 
 "But you must have known I would come; why did 
 you go to the door alone?" 
 
 "It is my place to receive all visitors to Crag- 
 Nest, my child, be they friends or foes. But — -" 
 her rare smile came to the firm lips — "you are 
 brave children, and do not shame your blood. 
 There are some hours to dawn; go to bed and sleep 
 away recollection of this — intrusion!" 
 
 She kissed both girls gently; but Wythe cried 
 suddenly : 
 
 "Oh! Aunt Virginia, they were right! We had 
 better seek shelter in the lines." 
 
74 CRAG-NEST. 
 
 "Go to sleep, my children," was the quiet an- 
 swer. "I promised our kinsman that I would 
 think about it." She passed slowly down the 
 stair; her voice coming back to them in the quiet 
 order: "Lock the front door, Ezekiel, and go to 
 bed!" 
 
THE FIRST QUARREL. 75 
 
 CHAPTER YII. 
 
 THE FIRST QUARREL. 
 
 Once more summer was smiling serenely upon 
 the Valley, ripening her sorely needed crops — 
 however Nature may have had cause to frown upon 
 man's brutalizing her fair domain with hoof and 
 steel and torch. For in the months between, the 
 old familiar battle-ground had had little rest; and, 
 while great armies watched each other elsewhere, 
 as bloodhounds in the leash, raid and incursion 
 from either side still scarred the bosom of the 
 "Daughter of the Stars." 
 
 Grant was now thundering at the Petersburg- 
 back-door of the coveted capital of rebeldom; but, 
 as diversion, Jubal Early had twice hurled Jack- 
 son's old soldiers across the Potomac — once threat- 
 ening Washington herself — then, in stern reprisal, 
 laying Chambersburg in ashes. But the wisdom 
 of Lee now calls him back to guard that teeming 
 granary, so vital to the needs of both their armies; 
 for the Valley must be held at any cost, at least 
 until those precious crops are garnered, and stored 
 beyond the reach of raid. 
 
 And now Sheridan — massing all force avail- 
 able in the lower Valley ^ — fronts Early; cognizant 
 as himself of vast results to come from his protec- 
 
76 CRAG-NEST. 
 
 tion of it, or from the Federals forcing liini beyond 
 this fecund base of bread for country and for army 
 alike. 
 
 It is now mid- August, 1864, and the ladies of 
 Crag-Nest still sit in its barer halls, now overlook- 
 ing wholly waste fields and ruined outbuildings. 
 For, during all those intervening months, Mrs. 
 Courtenay had been "thinking about it," but had 
 never brought herself to leave that well loved roof. 
 Indeed, she rejoiced many a time that home love 
 had triumphed over discretion; for often the home 
 — converted for the nonce into a hospital — added 
 to the comfort, if, indeed, it had not saved the lives, 
 of sorely wounded friends; sometimes of maimed 
 and suffering foes. 
 
 For the grand hospitality that gave Crag-Nest 
 its fame of yore was drawn from that highest 
 source which teaches that the thirsting enemy be 
 given drink; and more than one blue coated raider 
 had limped back to camp, blessing the tender touch 
 of womanhood in that Valley home, and had sent 
 its fame to gladden anxious hearts about distant 
 fire-sides. But now the plants and shrubs — still 
 more neglected and dejected looking than before — 
 remained always out of doors; rough bunks and 
 cots, spread with clean but coarse sheeting, chang- 
 ing their late resting place to a real conservatory 
 for the sick. 
 
 Tenantless now, the prim white row of narrow 
 
THE FIRST QUARREL. 77 
 
 beds still spoke readiness for the worst; while the 
 old lady and Val Courtenay paced the now dingy 
 piazza, with slow step and quiet talk. 
 
 ''It will be a true pleasure, my child," the old 
 lady was saying, as she unfolded her well creased 
 letter and read with unaided eyes, ''to have our 
 kinsman as guest once more. See, he writes that 
 he commands a brigade under Early; and that he 
 will be in easy distance of the home." 
 
 "We may expect him by morning," the girl an- 
 swered absently ; her eyes fixed upon the tall, blue 
 mountain top she and another had once watched 
 from the window, with the moon upon it. 
 
 "Yes, in the morning, my dear; and Wythe is 
 now putting the finishing touches to their room. 
 Major Eavanel and Lieutenant Robert Maury, his 
 adjutant, will be with our cousin. It will seem 
 like old times, my child, to have the three under 
 our roof once more." 
 
 "Dear old Rob," Val answered earnestly, "he 
 must have proved quite a hero, to have promotion 
 forced on him against his will." 
 
 "He is of our blood, my dear, and naturally did 
 his duty," her aunt answered calmly, "and Major 
 Ravanel, too! Well, 'good blood can not lie.' I 
 wonder if he is as distingue as formerly." 
 
 "Doubtless," Val answered, forcing herself to 
 the brief reply. 
 
 "Of course, my dear." The old lady folded the 
 
78 CRAG-NEST. 
 
 letter, placing it in the bosom of her worn black 
 gown. ''It is his right of birth. The Ravanels 
 are an old family, wealthy; and the major is an 
 only child." 
 
 The girl's eyes came back from the mountain 
 top, but looked straight ahead, as she answered 
 coldly: 
 
 "Yes, aunt; his ma doubtless is very proud of 
 Major Ravanel." 
 
 Something in the tone made the old lady cast 
 a quick, searching glance upon the speaker; but 
 delicate courtesy of the old school refrained from 
 comment, as the girl turned into the house with 
 the words: 
 
 ''Poor little Wythe! I must go and look after 
 her." 
 
 She passed up the broad stair, the fading light 
 falling across a face calm but resolved; and, en- 
 tering the open room where her cousin, flushed 
 with exercise, was viewing her completed work, 
 she said quietly: 
 
 "Wythe, dear, have you finished?" But, her 
 own glance answering her question, she took the 
 other girl's hand gravely and led her to the win- 
 dow; both seating themselves in the low seat made 
 by its broad sill, as she added: 
 
 "It is a long time since these old rooms have 
 been used." 
 
 "Not since the — th Cavalry first came to the 
 
THE FIRST QUAMREL. 79 
 
 Valley," the younger girl replied quickly. "Oh! 
 Val, how long ago that does seem!" 
 
 Miss Courtenay's face was turned toward the 
 far crests of the Massanutten. For a moment she 
 made no reply, speaking then with her eyes still 
 studying the mountain top. 
 
 "Wythe, I have never alluded to that time," 
 she said gently; "but I have thought much of it 
 since." 
 
 There was no answer, in words; but an eloquent 
 one might have been translated from the other's 
 sudden flush and decided pout, had her cousin's 
 eyes been upon her. So, innocent of random shot 
 that told, the former went on: 
 
 "We will meet them again to-morrow morning. 
 I hope, Wythe, you will be considerate of Rob's 
 feelings." 
 
 "Are they so very delicate that they need nurs- 
 ing?" Miss Dandridge queried sharply. "If so. 
 Aunt Virginia might prepare a cot in the hospital 
 for him!" 
 
 The unusual tone and manner turned Val's 
 eyes from the crest to the speaker. 
 
 "I am surprised!" she said quietly.^ "You 
 sneer at Rob Maury as though he were a stranger 
 and an enemy, rather than the friend of your girl- 
 hood!" 
 
 "A woman's tastes may change, I suppose," 
 was the answer, given with a pert toss of the fair 
 
so CRAG NEST. 
 
 head. "I have always been polite and just to — 
 your cousin, I hope. He certainly has no right 
 to expect anything more." 
 
 "I am not sure of that, Wythe. He had at 
 least the right to expect cordiality of old friend- 
 ship; and, that failing him, to be told the rea- 
 son — " 
 
 ''Young soldiers can usually supply their own 
 reasons for their acts," the girl cried, her cheeks 
 ablaze and her tiny slipper tapping angrily on the 
 floor. 
 
 "Proper pride — justice to you, might have pre- 
 vented his supposing that a passing fancy — " 
 
 "Passing fancy! — Well! — I think we had bet- 
 ter not discuss this further, Valerie Courtenay! I 
 don't know that I need any advice; and I'm very 
 sure that I have asked none!" And Miss Dan- 
 dridge rose from the window sill and stood angrily 
 facing her cousin; her graceful head thrown back 
 and her blue eyes lit with an angry light, that Val 
 had never seen in them before. 
 
 "No, Wythe," she answered quietly; "for the 
 first time in our lives, my little sister has shut her 
 heart to me. You know I have never intruded on 
 it; have never violated delicacy before. But, dear, 
 these are sad, dangerous days. Men are cut off 
 suddenly from those they love; and you would 
 never cease repenting injustice to a brave, true 
 gentleman — " 
 
THE FIRST QUARREL. 81 
 
 "He's a perfect boy!" Wythe exclaimed with 
 much heat. "Pshaw! he doesn't have a feeling 
 deeper than tJiatP' and her rosy little thumb 
 marked a half inch against the elevated little fin- 
 ger. "As for justice, well, I should think he — Val! 
 We have been friends, almost sisters, so long. You 
 are older than I, but there are some cases where it 
 is best that advice should not be given until it is 
 asked — No; don't misunderstand. I have never 
 blamed you, dear." 
 
 "Blamed me?" the older girl's eyes widened in 
 amaze. 
 
 "No! You could not help it! You could not 
 prevent a man's fancy changing from one woman 
 to another; and the chance that threw Major Rav- 
 anel with me — " 
 
 "Wythe! What do you mean? What right 
 have you to dream such a thing!" 
 
 This time it was Val's face that flushed hotly; 
 its lines hardened and lips set firm, as the full bust 
 rose and fell. 
 
 "Dreams sometimes come true," the other girl 
 answered, tossing her head. "People should be 
 careful what they say, and where they say it, if 
 others are to be catechised. Major Ravanel and 
 I—" 
 
 She broke off abruptly before the quick, com- 
 mandful gesture. The other woman stood erect 
 now; her tall head towering above her friend and 
 
 6 
 
B2 CRAG-NEST. 
 
 her voice cold and slow under coercion of her 
 strong will, as she said: 
 
 "Enough of this! I see now that I was wise to 
 refrain before; very foolish to have ventured now 
 one word of warning." 
 
 "I needed no warning, thank you." Wythe 
 spoke rapidly but defiantly; no yielding in her 
 tone, or pose, before the strong anger and reproach 
 of the other, as she added: 
 
 "The girl who needs one once, is — unfortunate; 
 the second time, she is — a fool !" 
 
 Val Courtenay's face was eloquent, if her lips 
 remained silent. Twice they moved, as though 
 about to answer; but the well trained will reas- 
 serted itself, and without a word she moved slowly 
 from the room and down the broad stairs. 
 
 Left to herself, Wythe stood erect and defiant; 
 
 a plump, blonde Pythoness for the instant. Then 
 
 the hot, flushed face changed; the red lips filling 
 
 to a decided pout, while a sort of wonder crept into 
 
 the wide blue eyes. 
 
 "I don't care," she cried aloud to herself. 
 "It's too bad! Val and I never quarreled be- 
 fore; but it's all his fault! The idea to be thrown 
 over like that, and then have her lecture me about 
 my injustice to him! I hope I was not mean to 
 Val. It is his fault if I was, and — I don't — I be- 
 lieve I don't care one bit!" And to prove it, the 
 spoiled child here dominated the newly asserted 
 
THE FIBST QUABREL. 83 
 
 woman, and Wythe Dandridge — throwing herself 
 face downward on the colonel's freshly smoothed 
 bed — indulged in the solace of a good old-time 
 cry. 
 
 But the tears of pure-hearted girlhood are but 
 April showers; and soon the sobs ceased and the 
 girl jumped up, with the rather irrelevant excla- 
 mation : 
 
 ''Lor! It's quite sundow^n; and what must my 
 eyes look like!" 
 
 But hasty application of cool spring water soon 
 made the pretty, blue optics themselves again; 
 and, after hastily smoothing the colonel's rumpled 
 coverlid, and taking a satisfactory look at her re- 
 flected self in the old mirror, Wythe ran down the 
 steps as though there were no such thing as w^ar, 
 foreign or domestic. She found Val, too, her self- 
 contained and placid self; and the frugal supper 
 passed as usual, with no restraint between the 
 girls from their first passage at arms. And that 
 night — when the matron kissed both and begged 
 them retire early to welcome their guests betimes 
 — Wythe slipped her hand into her cousin's very 
 gently; and the differing, yet loving, pair ascended 
 to their room without a word. Silently they pre- 
 pared for rest; but when the rosy, pleading face 
 of the younger — rosebud-fresh as it peered above 
 the snowy frill of her gown — came close to Val's 
 pale, thoughtful one, her long, graceful arms w^ent 
 
84 CRAG-NEST, 
 
 out and took it to her bosom with the tender love of 
 motherhood; and her lips, now quivering, pressed 
 close upon the soft, fair hair before she said: 
 
 "You were right, and I wrong, little sister! 
 There are some things which we must leave 
 to heaven, and our own thoughts and hearts only. 
 But, Wythe, dear, we have had our first angry 
 word — and our last. I do not ask you to forgive 
 me, for I know you have already." 
 
 "Forgive! Why you dear old Val — ;" the fair 
 face was close against the dark one now and the 
 rosebud lips pressed the firm ones close and long — 
 "you have been everything to me; and I would not 
 have one reproachful look from you for the love 
 of every man in the army of the Valley!" 
 
A I'ORTMAIT EXCHANGED. 85 
 
 CHAPTER Ylll. 
 
 A PORTEAIT EXCHANGED, 
 
 Next morning's sun was still young when 
 Colonel Calvert rode up the now" grass-grown ave- 
 nue from the broken gate; Kavanel and Kob Maury 
 following, and a courier behind them, and reined 
 up before the broad but rather rickety steps of 
 the well-remembered piazza. 
 
 But early as it was, the lady of the manor again 
 stood there with outstretched hand and gentle 
 smile to welcome them. 
 
 "Ah! Cousin Virginia! As ever, upon the ad- 
 vanced picket of hospitality," the veteran cried, as 
 he dismounted from his tall war-horse and strode 
 gaily up the steps; his long saber clanking at his 
 heels. And he bent his mustache to the white, 
 blue-veined hand extended graciously, as he added: 
 
 "But where are your fair young aides?" 
 
 "They are hastening your breakfast. Cousin 
 Wirt,'' the lady replied, as though a feudal suzer- 
 aine welcoming her liege lord. "Yet I fear it will 
 not prove all that we might wish for such welcome 
 guests." 
 
 "And I have brought them two most unwilling 
 captives," he answered with a laugh, as he turned 
 
86 CRAG-JS^JSST. 
 
 to his courier and added in lower tone as the 
 horses were led away: 
 
 "The larger bag on yonr saddle, Conyers, is to 
 be given the old negro man at once." 
 
 "I am sure my cousin slanders you, young gen- 
 tlemen,'' Mrs. Courtenay said to the others, as she 
 gave them her hands. "Else our poor reception 
 of the past must linger with you still." 
 
 "The colonel knows we are only too glad to 
 come, always," Eob Maury answered awkwardly, 
 and with reddening face. "I only said that it was 
 my duty to stay with the brigade, because I'm so 
 green and am to act as its adjutant-general now." 
 
 "And I could never have suggested riding by 
 your gate, Mrs. Courtenay," the young major 
 added in his soft, quiet way, "had there not been 
 some urgent need for corrected maps of the by- 
 roads above — " 
 
 "Which can easily be made from here, if I may 
 occupy Crag-Nest with an armed force for one day," 
 the colonel finished for him, as he rejoined them on 
 the piazza. "You see I assume command of my 
 brigade to-morrow; and this brevet captain" — he 
 laid his hand kindly upon Rob's shoulder — "also 
 has general orders to write, details to make and 
 all his plans to lay to catch Sheridan. But here 
 is our little Lily of the Valley!" 
 
 Verily Wythe looked the title, as she came into 
 the framing of the great door, more timidly than 
 
A PORTRAIT EXCHANGED. 87 
 
 her wont; her eyes cast down and her cheeks show- 
 ing pale even against the ruffle of her pure white 
 morning-dress. Straight from the kitchen — where 
 heat and rapid aid to Val and the old negress 
 might well have flushed her — the girl's face re- 
 mained quiet and pale as she greeted the colonel 
 and felt his lips upon her brow, but it colored to 
 the root of her fair hair, as the Carolinian quickly 
 advanced and cordially extended his hand. 
 
 ''I am so glad to see you again. Major liavanel," 
 she said rapidh^, "even if your title is changed." 
 
 "Many things have changed since we last met, 
 Miss Dandridge," he answered quietly, "and not 
 all of them for the better — though you are one of 
 the exceptions." 
 
 "And I hope I am not unwelcome," Rob blurted 
 out, with lamentable want of tact for a brigade 
 officer. "You see, busy as we were, the colonel in- 
 sisted we should stop and — " He ceased abruptly, 
 blushing like a girl, as the awkwardness of his 
 own speech struck him. 
 
 "Aunt Virginia would never have forgiven 
 him, had he not," Wythe answered calmly, but not 
 looking at him. And somehow she chanced to 
 drop her handkerchief; and — stooping for it at the 
 same moment as the major — failed to see his half 
 extended hand, as she finished: 
 
 "And here is Val. She will be so glad, too!" 
 
 "Indeed I am!" that vounc: woman answered 
 
88 CRAG-NEST. 
 
 for herself, coming out into the morning light, with 
 a deepened tint upon her cheek, for which the 
 kitchen fire might have been excuse. ''Cousin 
 Wirt, I began to fear you were indeed a deserter. 
 And you, dear old Rob! and with shoulder straps 
 at last!" She turned from the veteran's salute, 
 extending both hands to the boy; not moving her 
 handsome head, as she added: ''And I congratu- 
 late you, too, Major Ravanel, upon your pro- 
 motion." 
 
 "Which makes it all the more valuable. Miss 
 Courtenay," he answered, as he unclasped his 
 sword belt. 
 
 "Oh! let me take it for you, and hang it on the 
 rack!" Wythe cried, her blue eyes widening at 
 Val's warmth to one man and coolness to the other. 
 Her plump little hands captured the shining steel 
 scabbard; but his retained the belt, as the mock 
 contention carried them within the hall, toward 
 tlie many-antlered head that served for rack, just 
 within it. And the eyes of each cousin without 
 saw those of the other follow the maneuver; 
 though the lips of neither noted it. 
 
 "But this is no more gracious welcome," the 
 old lady exclaimed, "than we gave Major Buford, 
 of Pennsylvania, when he came hunting you and 
 the general. Cousin Wirt." 
 
 "We had a great laugh over that letter, Cousin 
 Virginia," Rob cried, "though we were too sorry 
 
A PORTRAIT EXCHANGED. 89 
 
 the Yank did not find us really here. The colonel 
 read us your account, down at Petersburg. Why 
 you and Cousin Val acted like a pair of heroes." 
 
 'There was little heroism about it," the old 
 lady answered quietly. "And Wythe, too, behaved 
 beautifully, for a girl!" 
 
 And that young lady hanging the saber on the 
 antlers, blushed as she heard the praiseful words; 
 tinting deeper as her companion added: 
 
 "I am sure you always would. Miss Dandridge. 
 But you have not let your household forget me, 
 I hope, because I am unfortunate enough not to 
 be a Virginian." 
 
 "Indeed, I have not," she answered frankly. 
 "We have constantly spoken of you, quite as one 
 of us; even when we had no letters from Cousin 
 Wirt." 
 
 "I am sure you have," the man went on ear- 
 nestly. ^^You are the sort of Avoman any man may 
 trust. I have never forgotten your promise, that 
 night at the ball." 
 
 And Val Courtenay, following the older couple 
 through the doorw^ay, caught the last w^ords; and 
 across her now pale face swept the same expres- 
 sion of mingled pity and contempt that had 
 marked it, in the upper room, the previous after- 
 noon. 
 
 Complex indeed are the hidden springs that 
 move that machine of mysteries, a woman's heart; 
 
90 CRAV-NE8T. 
 
 for — had her own life hung in the balance of her 
 truth-telling — neither one of that gentle pair could 
 have put into words the feelings in her bosom, as 
 Wythe caught the look that told she was over- 
 heard. Blushing deeply, but with head defiantly 
 erect, she spoke some commonplace to the hand- 
 some soldier beside her; but her own voice sounded 
 as meaningless to her as did the half-unheard reply 
 in the man's soft tone. 
 
 Just then, Ezekiel — with more collar than 
 usual rearing above the much-brushed blue coat — 
 announced : 
 
 "Da mistus's breckfus am served!" 
 The three couples moved into the bough-decked 
 dining room; and — appetite replacing analysis in 
 the young adjutant's mental outfit — the guests 
 were soon hw^j with the viands pressed upon them 
 by their gentle hostess. Rut it was a meal far 
 different from that last one — so clearly remem- 
 bered by them all — which the military trio had 
 eaten under that roof; far more different still from 
 what that matron's will had spread before her 
 guests, had Crag-Nest's larder compared, in any 
 sort, with the hospitable ambition of its mistress. 
 And yet, simple and meagre as that breakfast 
 really was, the men so plainly enjoying it had lost 
 all zest had they known they were assisting at the 
 sad rites over the last lone rooster on the place; 
 that the light eorn-waflfles and the yellow eggbread 
 
A PORTRAIT EXCHANGED. 91 
 
 represented an unusual gap in the well-guarded 
 meal-can; and that their praise of old Esther — 
 helpmate to Ezekiel — should justly have fallen to 
 the fair hands and pleasure-glowing cheeks of the 
 young girls, who now sauced the viands of their 
 own construction with pleasant talk that echoed 
 nothing of the late awkwardness without. 
 
 "Ezekiel, the colonel's plate," Mrs. Courtenay 
 cried gail}', breakfasting herself only on a mufi&n 
 — "Just one joint of the chicken. Cousin Wirt?" 
 
 "Not one scrap, my dear madam!" the veteran 
 beamed, detaining the delicate, old-time china. 
 "Zounds! I have breakfasted like Lucullus, and 
 Esther is a Parisienne in dark masquerade! I tell 
 you I have often eaten, at the Trois Frcres Proven- 
 cemix itself, a specially prepared honilmrdc d'ecrc- 
 vifisvs a la Murai that had not the delicate flavor of 
 that chicken! The Yankees have left Virginia 
 little else, but they have not captured all her 
 cooks !" 
 
 "For your sakes," the old lady answered with a 
 flush of pleasure, "I deeply regret that they have 
 left so little for the cooks' skill. Especially, 
 Cousin Wirt, I would excuse our 'potato-coffee', 
 knowing your love for the real berry; and that 
 you, sir — " she bent her head graciously to the 
 Carolinian — "are great coffee drinkers in your own 
 state." 
 
 " 'Better a dinner of herbs, where love is' — eh, 
 
92 CRAG-NEST. 
 
 my dear?" the veteran cried across the table to 
 Val; but, unnoting her quick flush, he nodded to 
 Ezekiel, who moved from the room more swiftly 
 than his butler's dignity generally permitted. 
 
 "Experience teaches that many of our supposed 
 necessities are merely habits," the young major 
 said gravely. "In camp, of course, it makes no 
 difference to us, for parched peas in a tin cup are 
 nectar, when we have time to make 'coffee.' But 
 ma writes me that even her delicate taste does not 
 reject parched wheat, or potato, when no block- 
 ader has managed to slip into Wilmington for 
 months." 
 
 "I hope your mother has not forgotten me, sir," 
 the hostess answered. "Pray write her of the 
 great pleasure it gives us all to have jom under 
 our roof again. I hope our troubles have not aged 
 her." 
 
 "Not one bit!" Kob Maury cried, pouring black 
 sorghum over his sixth waffle. "You'd think, from 
 her photograph, that the major's mother was his 
 sister. Show Cousin Virginia her picture, major." 
 
 The Carolinian's face was very grave; and he 
 answered no word, as his hand went into the breast 
 of his shell jacket, drew out a worn photograph 
 and passed it quickly to his hostess. She took it 
 with a bow; studying the face long and closely, 
 ere she said: 
 
 "She is wonderfully well preserved, but I think 
 
A POBPRATT EXCHANGED. 93 
 
 I would recognize the lips and chin anywhere. 
 And she has your eyes, sir; and the same black 
 hair. Ah!" a sigh moved the worn silk on her 
 bosom as she added gently: "Time has had some 
 bitterness for us both since we met; but he has 
 touched her most lightly. See, my dear, this is 
 my old schoolmate." 
 
 As she spoke, she handed the picture to Val; 
 Rob, at her left hand, leaving, his waffle to pass it 
 to his cousin. But, as his eyes fell upon the face, 
 he cried bluntly : 
 
 "Why, major, this isn't your ma! It's the other 
 one the mess tried to tease you — " 
 
 For once the cool Carolinian's poise was lost. 
 A burning flush rose to his very forehead, as he 
 stretched his hand nervously across the table, and 
 his voice was hard and commandful as he cried: 
 
 "Return it, sir! a silly carelessness!" 
 
 But even then his eyes flashed into those of the 
 woman opposite, to find them lifted from the pict- 
 ure to his own, one instant only. But in that 
 space he read the same contempt they spoke at 
 the riverside, two long years ago; and they spoke, 
 too, recognition of a face and figure seen but once 
 before. Then, self discipline triumphant, he was 
 himself again; and the voice was soft and gentle 
 that said to his hostess: 
 
 "I beg your pardon for my carelessness, Mrs. 
 Courtenay; and ma's for mistaking her picture for 
 
94 CKAGJSEST. ' 
 
 any other — " a quick flash of his eyes went out to 
 Val — ^'Ia(hfs, value that as I may." 
 
 As he spoke, his hand again went to his breast, 
 returning the picture and then proffering another 
 to the old lady, as he added: 
 
 "You see ma's hair is as white as your own; 
 that of the other lady has no silver in it." 
 
 ''I ask your pardon, cousin!" the colonel here 
 cried out, as Ezekiel bore in a massive silver salver, 
 crowned with a venerable tin coffee-pot. But I 
 could not resist a little surprise for you. Mrs. 
 Ravanel sent her boy a rare present of blockade 
 coffee; and he disobeyed orders and forced half of 
 it upon me. Now — smell that ! and there's enough 
 in the bag to last jnj cousins a month!" 
 
 The grateful, but long unknown, aroma 
 steamed from the tin, now set before the hostess. 
 But an aroma yet more subtile and far reaching 
 seemed to fill the space between, as the proud old 
 eyes — moist and gentle now — bent upon the vet- 
 eran; the unseen essence of that love and sejfless- 
 ness, which permeated all who wrought and suf- 
 fered in those days; without which all had long 
 since yielded to the wearing strain. 
 
 The brave, gentle woman — dauntless before all 
 threatened peril — yielded to the more gentle as- 
 sault upon her. The soft afterglow was on the aged 
 face, and her lips trembled in their effort to form 
 the brief words: 
 
 "My kinsman, we thank you!" 
 
A PORTRAIT EXCHANGED. 96 
 
 Then the delicate tact of both spared further 
 words; the colonel deftly changing the talk to 
 reminiscence of that far past, in Paris; of that so 
 different one, more recent and nearer home. 
 
 ''Yes; everything is most uncertain," he said at 
 last. "I am not hopeless at all; but we can not 
 close our eyes to the dire need for more men. We 
 have learned to live pretty well without supplies, 
 and to fight fairly without arms. But thinned 
 ranks can not be filled by sheer will; and Grant's 
 boast was fact, that he has forced us to 'rob the 
 cradle and the grave.' Why, Cousin Virginia, Rob 
 there is a veteran to some lads sent me latel}^; and 
 I am a very youth to some old men at Petersburg — 
 I am sure that General Lee feels this truth; and 
 — though he speaks nothing of it — I feel that he 
 wishes the worst was met and over with. But the 
 president is adamantine; a man with eyes and ears 
 that he can force to see and hear only from within. 
 Both know the dire need of holding this Valley; 
 but Sheridan knows it, too. A great soldier that! 
 And he is facing Early with overwhelming num- 
 bers, and can add to them at will; while we — 
 Well!" — he broke off, pulling his huge mustache 
 thoughtfully a moment; then adding courteously: 
 "But, ladies, I ask your forgiveness xor talking 
 thus to you. Long exchange from the drawing- 
 room for the camp must plead my excuse. And 
 now, major and Master Rob, look at that!" 
 
96 CRAG-h'EST. 
 
 As he spoke, he pointed to the huge, upright 
 clock, carved and ponderous, that faced them 
 across the hall; and ere he finished, its strong 
 chime rang out ten times upon the still summer 
 morning. 
 
 "As we are, none of us, 'laggards in love,' gen- 
 tlemen," he added, bowing to his hostess as he 
 rose, "neither must we be in war. This is most 
 pleasant, ladies; but duty is the stern mistress of 
 pleasure in these days. Mr. Maury, we must get 
 to our orders and details. Major Ravanel, you 
 had best mount as soon as possible; and — with 
 your permission. Cousin Virginia — Ziek can serve 
 his country. He will be an invaluable guide for 
 cross-roads and short cuts, major, for some miles 
 about here." 
 
 So the breakfast party broke up; and Rob 
 Maury sat, coatless and warm, before great piles 
 of muster rolls and orders, busily at work; the 
 colonel, also coatless, sitting bolt upright in the 
 chair facing him, and aiding by a frequent brief 
 nod, or rarer quick, short word of suggestion. 
 
 Half an hour later Wythe Dandridge looked 
 from the window of the kitchen — where the pres- 
 ence of both girls was more necessary, in prepar- 
 ing dinner, from the old negro's service to his 
 countr}^ — and saw the engineer officer mount his 
 horse at the barn. The negro was already 
 mounted on the courier's steed; and the oflflcer. 
 
A PORTRAIT EXCHANGED. 97 
 
 having examined his pistol and returned it to the 
 holster, made some hasty notes in a memorandum 
 book, motioned to his companion, and both can- 
 tered across the bare field through a gap in the 
 fence and disappeared in the woods beyond. 
 
 "He's riding the black, Val," the girl cried. "I 
 wonder what has become of dear little Santee!" 
 
 "How should I know?" the other answered 
 quietly. "I think this will do, Aunt Esther. Don't 
 have the fire too fast." 
 
 There was silence for a long while; only broken 
 then, and through all that summer day, on tech- 
 nicalities, as the girls went cheerily enough about 
 their household duties; later sitting with their 
 aunt, over rough sewing, until dinner time. By 
 that, the young adjutant was more weary than 
 after a day's march or a hot skirmish; and the meal 
 was quite ready when the major returned, sun- 
 burned and dusty, but seemingly content with his 
 day's work. He went straight to the colonel's 
 room for report; the three gentlemen coming down 
 together. 
 
 Serious matters seemed to engross them all; 
 for the talk was less cheery than at breakfast, and 
 the colonel declared an early departure necessary, 
 to profit by the young moon. So, sitting together 
 on the broad piazza, until the horses were brought 
 around, there was no chance for tete-a-tete among 
 the young people, even had any of the four shown 
 
 7 
 
98 CKAO-NEST. 
 
 disposition for it. Rob talked apart with his 
 cousin, seriously and low; and Wythe, rather ab- 
 sent mannered, seemed a trifle wearied of the 
 major's quiet speech and coolly courteous manner. 
 The colonel, too, was grave and preoccupied, often 
 reverting to the coming struggle for the possession 
 of the Valley. And finally he said: 
 
 "It is more than a year. Cousin Virginia, since 
 the general and I urged you and yours to seek safer 
 rest, for the present. What we urged then is 
 more true now. Should Sheridan beat Early back, 
 there is no telling where we may stop. You would 
 then be cut off, and in the enemy's lines." 
 
 "That is true," the old lady answered, with a 
 cloud upon her face and a yearning glance into 
 the hallway; and a great sigh came, as she added: 
 
 "You must be right. Cousin Wirt. I will write 
 to our relatives in Richmond to-morrow." 
 
 The veteran took her hand gently in his brown, 
 knotted one. 
 
 "You are a brave lady, my kinswoman; and I 
 know your courage. But I consider now that I 
 have your pledge; that you will move within the 
 lines." 
 
 The tall crown of her cap nodded forward 
 twice, before she answered. Then her voice shook 
 strangely, as she glanced at the girls and said: 
 
 "Yes; for their sake, I will leave Crag-Nest." 
 
 The courier rode up, leading the horses. Fare- 
 
A PORTHAIT EXCHANGED. 99 
 
 wells were said, sadly as though omen of disaster 
 oppressed them all. Val ran to the handsome bay 
 — her gift to Rob — calling his name and stroking 
 the nose he rubbed against her shoulder in old 
 friendly way; and Wythe, on the step called out: 
 
 "Oh! major, where is pretty little Santee?" 
 
 "I lost her, Miss Dandridge," he answered 
 quietly, turning to arrange his saddle roll. 
 
 "Did I not write it, my child?" the colonel ex- 
 claimed. "She was shot under him at Gettysburg, 
 as he led a regiment in Hampton's charge." 
 
 Why, she herself could not have told, but Yal 
 Courtenay felt her cheeks burn red, as she hid 
 them behind the bay's tossing neck. 
 
 The colonel and Rob in saddle, and the latter's 
 hand pressed by his cousin for final farewell. Last 
 adieux were spoken; the veteran spurred on and 
 Val turned toward the house. Somehow the 
 major's girth was wrong; and the girl, passing 
 near him, heard the low voice, though his head was 
 turned away: 
 
 "Will you not bid me God speed?" 
 
 "He knows I wish you well!" The answer 
 came from scarcely moving lips; but they added: 
 "For more, ask that lady who — " 
 
 He was erect; his eyes steadily on hers, his face 
 grave and haughty, as he finished : 
 
 "Who is the peer of any in this land!" 
 
 And as the low words reached her ear, he had 
 vaulted to saddle, spurring down the path. 
 
100 CRA(J-NE8T. 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 FROM THE OPEQUON. 
 
 Dawn of the 19tli September broke hot and 
 sultry; heavy clouds curtaining the East, while 
 hot, dry puffs of wind sent dull and low drifts 
 along the crests of the Massanutten, like skirmish- 
 ers in advance of the line of battle. 
 
 But that sultry dawn found the household at 
 Crag-Nest already astir; for its head had at last 
 ceased ^'thinking about it," and had now deter- 
 mined to move her family — and what of her house- 
 hold goods she might — within the Confederate 
 lines. Answers to her letters had come from Rich- 
 mond; and, with Mrs. Courtenay decision meant 
 action. Two days had been spent in busy prepa- 
 ration; for the constant clatter of couriers at speed 
 and the rumble of ammunition and wagon trains, 
 along the Winchester pike, all told of early and 
 heavy action at the front. 
 
 But the previous night had redoubled all of 
 these; the tramp of heavy masses of infantry 
 sounding continuous; cut sometimes by the rattle 
 of swift moving artillery and again by the rapid 
 trot of cavalry squadrons; while far and near was 
 heard the dull rumble of ambulances of sick and 
 wounded passing to the rear. 
 
FROM THE OPEQVON. 101 
 
 And now — the cloud-dulled lances of sunrise 
 still failing to pierce the leaden dawn — low rumb- 
 ling sounds echoed along the Valley gorges and 
 caught the ears of the anxious women. They were 
 too continuous for thunder; breaking at long in- 
 tervals, only to reverberate again; and long ex- 
 perience told the listeners that Strategy had once 
 again bidden Valor 
 
 " Cry 'havoc! ' And let slip the dogs of War." 
 
 "It is certainly a battle, aunt; and between us 
 and Winchester, somewhere," Val said, as the 
 three women stood listening upon the lawn in 
 front of the house. "As all is ready, we had better 
 move as soon as the road is clear." 
 
 "General Early maj^ drive them before him," 
 the old lady answered, with yearning glance up 
 at the house. "If so, we Avill still be safe here. 
 And even then, we may be useful to some of the 
 poor, maimed boys sent back from the victory." 
 
 "But it may be defeat," Wythe cried, listening 
 intently to the guns— now roaring continuous, and 
 seemingly more near. "Kemember, Cousin Wi-rt 
 said that Sheridan so outnumbered Early." 
 
 "Our outnumbered heroes have conquered be- 
 fore, my dear," the old lady answered calmly. 
 "You have not forgotten how Jackson swept them 
 before him down our Valley. But, my children, 
 we will move to-day; because I have promised." 
 
102 CRAG-NEST. 
 
 As she spoke, Ezekiel came rapidly toward the 
 house, pick and shovel on shoulder. 
 
 "Mis' 'Ginia, I's bin diggin' mos' all nite, an' da 
 grabe's ready." 
 
 "The grave! Ezekiel," his mistress answered, 
 surprise dominating her usual calmness. "What 
 in the world do you mean?" 
 
 "Da majah ge'en me da wud," the negro an- 
 swered shrewdly, "da day me an' heem reconloiter 
 dem roads. He say, 'ole man,' sez he, 'when da 
 ladies lebe, you gwine berry all da silver wot 'e 
 can't carry 'long,' sez he. He ge'en me da wud 
 .an' da grabe's ready, an' deep, too." 
 
 "Faithful old servant," Mrs. Courtenay cried, 
 "you are indeed a reliance, when our kin are 
 needed elsewhere. And — " she turned warmly 
 to Val — "how thoughtful of the major; so quiet, 
 yet so full of resource." 
 
 "Very," the girl answered quietly; "but it seems 
 to me the silver is safe where we threw it in the 
 cellar under old wine boxes and straw." 
 
 "Mebbe, missy," the black answered promptly, 
 "but da majah ge'en me da wud 'bout dat, too. He 
 say, 'ole man, look out fur da berry'n'. Da Yank 
 may bun da house,' sez he." 
 
 "Oh! He was right!" Wythe cried earnestly. 
 "Burying it is safer." 
 
 "Yes; they may burn the house." Mrs. Courte- 
 nay's voice shook as it echoed the words; and, for 
 
FROM THE OPEQUON. 103 
 
 the first time amid all her trials, the brave old eyes 
 were full of tears, as she lifted them to the loved 
 old pile. But quickly recovering, she turned to 
 the old negro with the mien of a general conferring 
 decoration, and to the girls as giving an order to 
 charge: 
 
 "Your fidelity shall be remembered, Ezekiel — 
 Girls, to the cellar! We will all aid in the safety of 
 my husband's silver!" 
 
 Promptly all the four sought the dim cellar, 
 coming up itB narrow stair laden with silver, urn 
 and candelabra; bearing without to the deep pit 
 in mid corn field. Then, an old carpet wrapped 
 over them, the negro packed down the soil, smooth- 
 ing the surface and strewing blackened stalks 
 above, to hide its freshness. 
 
 Some hours later, all was ready; each sash 
 and shutter closed, and only the great hall door 
 still wide, as though regretful to end — even for 
 a while — its hospitable invitation. Near it, on the 
 piazza, the two girls stood with sad faces and 
 moist eyes; lunch basket, wraps and what bag- 
 gage there was room for, piled upon the step. And 
 INIrs. Courtenay, bonneted and gloved, moved 
 slowly from one dim and empty room to another, 
 fixing her eyes yearningly upon every detail of 
 each, as though to stamp it indelibly upon her 
 memory. 
 
 Meanwhile, the cannonading grew more fitful, 
 
104 CRAG-NEST. 
 
 often ceasing wholly for a while, but each time 
 its renewal seemed more clear, and now — as the 
 two girls stood intently- listening for the next re- 
 port — it came so distinctly that the separate guns 
 were noted; and the mountain breeze, now spring- 
 ing up, bore through the gorges of the Massanut- 
 ten the rattle of musketry, plainly distinguish- 
 able. 
 
 "Wythe, they are driving us!" Val cried, turn- 
 ing a pale face to her cousin. "God grant I am 
 mistaken! But they are beating our boys back!" 
 
 Wythe's face, too, was colorless, but with no 
 fear in the blue ej^es as they turned toward the 
 sound, and she answered: 
 
 "I fear you are right, Val. God guard those 
 dear to us!" 
 
 Still the mistress of the house kept her slow 
 walk through the deserted rooms, deaf to the omin- 
 ous sounds without; to all save the whisper of that 
 inward voice, ever repeating, dirge-like: "Leav- 
 ing the old home forever!" 
 
 But at last Val's call aroused her from sad day- 
 dreaming; for now the old negro was leading up 
 the path from the barn the old mule, harnessed to 
 the old barouche, that was to bear the refugees on 
 their long and tedious journey. And still the 
 cannon boomed nearer but less frequent, while 
 the rattling crash of small arms volleyed nearer 
 and more near. Grave and sad, but calm still, 
 
FROM THE OrEQUON. 105 
 
 the mistress of the house passed its portals, never 
 daring to trust her eyes one backward glance. But 
 she sijoke Aery calmly and gently: 
 
 "It is hard to leave you behind, Ezekiel; but 
 someone must watch the old home, even were 
 there room and were Selim equal to greater load. 
 And you could not leave her — " She turned to 
 the bent old negress who had crept toward the 
 group, her apron over her head; her lank body 
 rocking from side to side, in her race's strongest 
 token of woe. "Good, faithful friends, both! The 
 Great Master will reward you better than your 
 poor mistress can." 
 
 With courteous dignity, grand in its gentle- 
 ness, she took the hard, black hands of man and 
 wife in her slim black gloves. But no further 
 word was spoken when she released them; and 
 Ezekiel began packing the bundles carefully in 
 the vehicle. 
 
 Suddenly hoofs sounded on the road beyond. 
 Around the curve dashed a foaming horse, his 
 rider hatless, without arms, bending on his neck 
 and spurring as though for life. With one impulse 
 the girls sped across the iield to the fence, scream- 
 ing after him some query, drowned in the clatter 
 of hoofs. But as they reached the fence another 
 came; soon, another, and then a squad — all reck- 
 less, abject, maddened by panic, as they dashed 
 up heedless of query, or answering only by sign. 
 
106 CRAG-NEST. 
 
 Pale with suspense — but not with fear — both 
 women leaned over the fence, straining their eyes 
 up the road; for the sounds of cannonading had 
 died away and only scattered firing of small arms 
 now was heard. And soon another horseman 
 spurred along, but not so fast; a ghastly stream 
 M'elling down his face from the red handkerchief 
 that bound his head, as he swayed from side to 
 side in saddle. Val was over the fence and in the 
 road, screaming as he came: 
 
 ''What news?" 
 
 "Opequon ! — Struck our right ! — Early de- 
 stroyed — ," the wounded man cried back, but never 
 drawing rein. 
 
 Then came more flying riders, singly and in 
 groups; many hatless, some coatless, most of them 
 unarmed; the wretched, ghastly advance guard of 
 a cavalry rout. But one and all — where panic 
 let them speak at all — told the same shameful 
 story of destruction, defeat and rout. 
 
 "^^al! We must go back to her. We know 
 all now, and can do no good here." Wythe's face 
 was very pale, but her voice was clear and brave ; 
 and Val, with never a glance at the oncoming 
 group, clambered over the fence once more and 
 they moved rapidly toward the house. 
 
 "I know it, my children," Mrs. Courtenay said 
 calmly, before either could speak. "Sheridan has 
 beaten us. There w ill be work for us to do here. 
 
FROM THE OPEQUON. 107 
 
 Ezekiel, take the carriage back. For the pres- 
 ent, we will remain at home!'' - 
 
 The hours of that afternoon dragged them- 
 selves along with suspense-clogged feet, for those 
 anxious watchers on the old piazza. They had 
 promptly opened the house, piled their luggage 
 in the hall to be read}^ for emergency, and made 
 "coffee" for a hasty and meagre lunch. Then, 
 they could only wait and watch for the outcome 
 of that disaster, the extent and consequence of 
 which they could not even conjecture. 
 
 But it was plain that they were fortunate in not 
 having left the home shelter; for the Winchester 
 pike^ — along which their road laid — rapidly grew 
 more crowded with flying squads, first mounted 
 and later on foot; all in mad rush rearward for 
 some unknown point of safety. And later lum- 
 bered by some creaking wagons, with supplies or 
 wounded men; their drivers urging their jaded 
 beasts with whip and heel. 
 
 The sun having routed and chased away the 
 massed clouds of the morning, now beamed down 
 hotly, half way 'twixt the zenith and his rest, as 
 a great mass of gray jackets hurried round the 
 road's curve almost on the run, confused, half- 
 armed and wholly demoralized. Among them 
 flashed many a red or yellow facing, telling that 
 artillery and cavalry were aiding the rout of the 
 flying infantry; but through and flanking them 
 
108 CRAG-NEST. 
 
 dashed mounted officers, brandishing their pistols 
 and striving bj voice and gesture to shame the 
 panic back to discipline. 
 
 Suddenly, out of the ruck one rider spurred 
 across the road, taking the fence and galloping 
 wildly toward the house, pistol in hand; and, ere 
 the others could speak, Wythe Dandridge's face 
 flushed crimson, but her wide, blue eyes never left 
 the wild rider, as she cried: 
 
 ''Look!— Rob Maury!" 
 
 Throwing his horse almost on his haunches at 
 the step, the boy cried : 
 
 "Thank God! You are here — not there!" He 
 pointed to the road. "Keep close— be brave! It 
 will soon change! Not a minute to stop! We 
 must turn those curs!" 
 
 Little like a boy he looked now; erect and 
 strong in saddle, as Yal's pet horse stood statue- 
 like, with heaving flanks. Hatless, his powder- 
 stained and muddy jacket flung wide and the 
 coarse, blue shirt thrown back from the broad, 
 laboring chest, there was the grim set in Rob 
 Maury's features the charge of Torbert's men and 
 the break of his own brigade had left there; and 
 through the firm lips and flashing eyes spoke char- 
 acter before undreamed of, even by the three 
 women hurrying down the steps with eager query. 
 
 "Thoburn struck us on the right," he answered 
 rapidly. "Our green men took panic; the veterans 
 could not stand their shock. Can't tell any- 
 
FROM THE OPEQUON. 109 
 
 thing of the fight; have ridden miles, trying to 
 rally those sheep! Yes, the battle's over; firing 
 has ceased. If the center and left broke, too, the 
 Luray road below is worse than this!" 
 
 "And our friends?" Mrs. Courtenay asked 
 briefly. 
 
 "The colonel swept by me like a lion, leading 
 in our old regiment," the soldier answered. "He 
 ordered me to rally the break. Oh! if I could only 
 have ridden at them by him ! But I must go ; only 
 stopped to warn you all. Good-b^^e. God bless 
 you all!" 
 
 Two women's hands held his; only their grave 
 eyes making mute answer through the mists in 
 them. But the youth's — leaving theirs in yearn- 
 ing wonder — saw Wythe Dandridge hastening 
 from the hall, a huge dipper of Avater in her hands. 
 
 "You must be thirsty," she said softly, holding 
 it up to him, but never lifting her eyes from the 
 ground. 
 
 "Oh! Thank you!" Only three trite words; 
 but the color shone bright through the sweat- 
 streaked battle grime on his face, as he took the 
 dipper and drank like a famished animal. 
 
 "And take this — please f^ the little hands held 
 up the package of lunch prepared for their own 
 use; but still the eyes never raised. 
 
 "Yes; take it, my son," the old lady said. "God 
 speed and protect you!" 
 
 He was gone; crossing the field at a wild gal- 
 
] 10. CBAG-N£ST. 
 
 lop, clearing the fence below and plunging through 
 the woods to head the fugitives now past. 
 
 At last the long day of suspense wore toward 
 its close. 
 
 The victor sun slowly withdrew behind the 
 western hills, and, ready for his nuptials with the 
 Night, sent hot reflection of his triumph over them 
 above the leaden clouds, low-lying in the East. 
 And still waiting, the women sat together; 
 strangely silent in words, but reading each other's 
 thoughts as they traveled to the battle-field be- 
 yond, and sought to penetrate its clouds for token 
 of friends, perhaps stretched upon it — suffering or 
 dead. 
 
 Nor did the lessening tumult on the road near 
 by relieve their unspoken anxiety. Less frequent 
 squads passed the gate, but these even more de- 
 moralized and in rapid flight; and the lull, after 
 the last of them, was broken by orderly tramp of 
 cavalry; as heavy force of Thoburn's troopers trot- 
 ted swiftly by in close pursuit. But suddenly, Val 
 Courtenay's eyes — turned from the now still and 
 empty pike^ — stared steadily tow^ard the woods be- 
 hind the house; what color was left in her grave 
 face falling out of it. For, in that very gap in the 
 old fence — through which Wythe had noted the 
 absence of Santee, the day Ezekiel rode off with 
 Major Ravanel — the girl saw an ugly picture sil- 
 houette itself against the dying sunset. 
 
BEYOND THE LINES. HI 
 
 CHAPTEH X. 
 
 BEYOND THE LINES. 
 
 A man on foot moved slowl}^ through the gap; 
 leading his own horse, and suj)porting in the sad- 
 dle of another the tall, swaying form of a wounded 
 comrade. And, the two women, following Val's 
 fixed gaze, all rose without one word and passed 
 down the steps to meet the unbidden but suffering 
 guest, should he prove a friend or foe. But as the 
 pair moved toward them, through the open field, 
 and the light grew more clear, all three hastened 
 forward in a run; but only the eldest spoke: 
 
 "Our cousin — badly hurt!" 
 
 It was indeed the gallant old Calvert, faint, 
 scarce able to keep his saddle, and held there only 
 by the firm hand of Fraser Kavanel. 
 
 "Is he much hurt, sir?" 
 
 The old lady's face was very white; but her 
 voice never shook in the query; and before the 
 younger officer could speak, the veteran — braced 
 by the familiar voice — sat up in saddle and an- 
 swered feebly: 
 
 "A hard hit, cousin, but not — " he paused an 
 instant; a spasm of pain crossing his ghastly pale 
 face. Then his teeth closed hard on the gray mus- 
 
112 CRAG-NEST. 
 
 tache, as he added — ''Zounds! Enough to give 
 you some trouble with me." 
 
 Gentle hands raised to support him on the 
 other side; and Wythe, without a word, slipped the 
 bridle from RavanePs arm and led his tired black, 
 the brute's intelligence noting the light touch upon 
 the rein and following like a pet dog. Slowly they 
 reached the steps; the grim old soldier at once 
 braced himself to move his numbed feet from the 
 stirrups. But the younger man spoke quickly and 
 firmly: 
 
 ^'Steady, sir! Do not move hand or foot. Call 
 the negro, j^lease." He turned to Yal and she flew 
 toward the kitchen; meeting Ezekiel already run- 
 ning up. With short, strong words of caution and 
 direction, the Carolinian led the horse close to the 
 piazza; then, with all their strength, the pair 
 raised the colonel softly from his seat and bore 
 him to the broad old sofa in the parlor. Soft, but 
 experienced hands removed his jaclvot; by degrees 
 the high thigh boots yielded to Ravanel's skilled 
 strength, and the veteran lay pale and motionless, 
 but breathing easily, as one woman bathed his 
 fevered forehead, another placed spoonfuls of whis- 
 key to his lips and the third slowly fanned the 
 drawn face. 
 
 Rapid field surgery had cut away the boot top 
 and riding pants, and a broad bandage of coarse 
 cloth was wound about the thigh, hip and side; but 
 
BEYOND THE LINES. 113 
 
 it was soaked with blood and stiffened hard, as 
 Val gently moistened it. And her eyes raised to 
 the other man's in mute query; but he answered 
 promptly: 
 
 ''No, do not attempt removal. The surgeon 
 was em[>hatic. Moisten, but do not loose it." 
 
 And the wounded soldier — reviving under stim- 
 ulant — opened his eyes and smiled feebly, as he 
 saw the watchers near; and his faint voice mur- 
 mured: 
 
 ''Brave, true women! Always thinking of 
 others." He tried to wave his hand, but it fell 
 back by his side, as he added feebly: "Don't be 
 alarmed — good as two dead men! Pardon the 
 trouble — I give!" 
 
 Then exhausted Nature called for relief upon 
 her gentlest soother, Sleep; and — sure that he was 
 resting easy — aunt and niece softly followed Rav- 
 anel outside, leaving the younger girl to fan the 
 sleeper. 
 
 "How was he hurt, sir?" Mrs. Courtenay asked 
 in anxious whisper. 
 
 "Struck in the thigh with a fragment of can- 
 ister," the soldier replied gravely. "We were 
 forced back slowly for a mile. Then the new men 
 broke and it was a race for miles. At the cross- 
 ing above he rallied the old regiment, turned it 
 on the pursuers, driving them. Far ahead of his 
 line, he was struck almost from his horse. The 
 
 8 
 
114 CRAG-NEST. 
 
 men fled in panic; but I — " he hesitated only a 
 moment — "was fortunate enough to bring him off, 
 knowing the little cross-roads. Greer, the brigade 
 surgeon, saw us escape the chase and followed in 
 the wood. It was providential; or he would have 
 bled to death on the spot." 
 
 The old lady grew whiter and her lips trem- 
 bled as they whispered : 
 
 "An artery severed?" 
 
 "A large one, in the thigh," he answered 
 promptly. "Greer tied it; told the colonel plainly 
 the danger of motion, and advised surrender for 
 safety. The colonel sternly refused ; said he would 
 die in preference, and ordered me to mount him 
 and take him to the rear." 
 
 "Will he recover, sir?" The query was cold 
 and grave, but in firm voice. 
 
 "God only knows, ma'am. He has lost much 
 blood, but has wonderful vitality. He must be 
 absolutely still; the great danger is hemorrhage. 
 Greer — if he eluded the pursuit — should be here 
 soon. He promised to; when he had tended two 
 desperately wounded officers." 
 
 "My cousin shall have every care. Major Rava- 
 nel," the matron answered; "and your presence 
 will—" 
 
 "I, madam!" he exclaimed. "Why, I should 
 not be here now, but aiding to rally and intrench 
 our shattered force. I must get to saddle at once." 
 
BEYOJSTD THE LIXES. 115 
 
 "You must do your duty, sir,-* Mrs. Courtenay 
 answered gravely. "We will tvj to do ours, when 
 you go — "Wait one minute, please." 
 
 She turned softly into the house; and there — 
 for the first time in three years — under the shadow 
 of great calamity and possibly death — the young- 
 man and woman were together alone. 
 
 "You have put us under great debt of grati- 
 tude. Major Ravanel. You have acted like a 
 brave — " imperceptibly almost she hesitated be- 
 fore the word — "soldier." 
 
 "I have done my simple duty, Miss Courtenay," 
 he answered low. "You remind me that I neglect it 
 now. One look at our beloved commander, and I 
 must be gone." He turned to the door; pausing 
 suddenly as the clear note of a bugle echoed 
 through the darkness, adding half to himself: "A 
 Yankee bugle — the recall. The pursuit is off." 
 
 And he was right. Thoburn's men had fol- 
 lowed far and fast; taking prisoners sometimes, 
 vengeance at others, until the scattering fugitives 
 led them through strange roads and into the 
 woods. Then the late chastening hand of the all- 
 seeing Mercy dropped the veil of Night between 
 pursuer and pursued. 
 
 Quietly but swiftly the soldier passed to his 
 comrade's side; looking down on the pale, quiet 
 face in the dim candle-light, with his own scarcely 
 less still and placid. Then Mrs. Courtenay came, 
 
116 CRAG-NE8T. 
 
 bearing with her own hands food and a small de- 
 canter, as she beckoned him to the door and whis- 
 pered : 
 
 "You must be exhausted, sir. Before you eat, 
 have some old brandy." 
 
 "Thanks," he whispered back. "But I have no 
 time to eat; and I have not tasted liquor since the 
 war began. I promised ma; and — " his face har- 
 dened strangely — "I have good reason to keep my 
 pledge." 
 
 Again the bugle-note cut the night, now close 
 beyond upon the road; and Val Courtenay ran in, 
 exclaiming: 
 
 "They are here! I think they halted at the 
 gate!" 
 
 "I must be off then. I can not be taken here — 
 away from the command! Good-bye, ma'am — God 
 guard you and yours!" 
 
 He moved rapidly out as he spoke; pausing on 
 the step to say: 
 
 "Good-bye, Miss Courtenay. If we never meet 
 again — " 
 
 "Quick! They are coming!" as the clank of 
 arms and tramp of hoofs again sounded at the gate. 
 
 Without answer he bent very low to the ground, 
 his ear turned eagerly toward the barn; and, even 
 before he spoke, the girl's acute sense caught the 
 soft footfall of horses in that direction. 
 
 "They are there!" he whispered hoarsely. 
 
BEYOND THE LINES. 117 
 
 "They have my horse and I am cut off. I must not 
 be taken. Show me the back door; I can escape 
 that way!" 
 
 As if in answer, another bugle sounded on the 
 road above; showing another party approaching 
 from that side; and by this time the horsemen from 
 below were nearly at the house. 
 
 "I am trapped!" he said quietly but bitterly, 
 as his hand went instinctively to his pistol, ''but 
 I icUl not be captured here!" 
 
 The girl placed restraining hand upon his arm ; 
 her voice very low, but very clear, as she said: 
 
 "Major Ravanel, no one can doubt your cour- 
 age; but one man can not fight the Yankee army. 
 Sometimes strategy is equal to courage. In here 
 — quick!" 
 
 As she spoke she turned to the great clock- 
 massive and black in the shadow of the hall; dully 
 ticking what might be his comrade's deathwatch 
 — and swung wide the great door. 
 
 "Get in quickly; they are here!" she said again; 
 and Mrs. Courtenay moving to the door, whispered : 
 
 "Obey her! Resistance is folly! Remember 
 your country and your mother need you." 
 
 Without reply he stepped into the dark, coflfin- 
 like recess; and next instant Yal stood statue-like 
 by her aunt in the doorway, as a squad of horses 
 halted and faced toward the house. Its burly, 
 yellow-bearded commander and two aids dis- 
 
118 CRAONE8T. 
 
 mounted and ascended the steps; and the former 
 gruffly asked, with strong accent: 
 
 ''Vel, who vos dis house belong to?" 
 
 "To me, sir," Mrs. Courtenay answered with 
 stately dignity. 
 
 "Oh — ho! Dat vos so? Vel, den, andt who 
 you vos?" 
 
 "A lady, sir," the matron answered with em- 
 phasis, "as 3^ou might learn from many gentlemen 
 in either army." 
 
 "Vel, den, my laty, ve haf got hungry chasen 
 ter tam Shonnies. Ve vandt someding ter eat." 
 
 "And, first, sir, may I ask whom I have the 
 honor to address?" 
 
 "Yah! I haf ter dell you my rang is Macher 
 Einvasserschwein, commanting der segund reg- 
 mend von Buford's brigade, andt I be tam hungry, 
 too." 
 
 For one instant the old gentlewoman hesitated, 
 the blood mounting to the roots of the gray coro- 
 net, and her slim hand clinching at the coarse 
 words. The next, supreme sense of duty to others 
 controlled her wrath; and her voice was coldly 
 calm as she answered low: 
 
 "Speak lower, please; we have illness in the 
 house. It is alwaj's with regret that I refuse hos- 
 pitality, even to a stranger; but now I can not give 
 supper to your men, simply because we have no 
 food in the house." 
 
BEYOND THE LINES. 119 
 
 "So-o-o! Andt I shall expecdt myselve ter be- 
 leeve dot, ain'd't?" and the man guffawed loudly, 
 as he punched his aid in the side, and added: 
 "Dat vas foine, don'd't?" 
 
 "I must insist," rather testily this time, "that 
 you make less noise. My cousin is very ill, and 
 waking suddenly might cause death." 
 
 ''So-o-o! Your cousin vos eel? Andt w^ho vos 
 her name?" 
 
 "//c is Colonel and Brigade Commander Wirt 
 Calvert of the Confederate Cavalry!" the old lady 
 answered, with all the blood of all the Cabbells 
 rushing to her face. "He fought you, sir, like a 
 brave gentleman, when well. // jou are a soldier, 
 respect his desperate wound." 
 
 As she spoke, again the bugle sounded close 
 and clear, at the turn of the road above; the tramp 
 of a large body of horse coming up to her ear. But 
 the German heard it carelessly, knowing the 
 friendly call; and he drew a step nearer the ladies, 
 as he said: 
 
 "Oh — ho! You haf bin hiting ein vounded 
 Shonny, vos et? Haf he bin parole? Tam! Ye 
 veel arresdt heem andt take heem along." 
 
 He placed his hand upon his sword and moved 
 as though to enter; but, with swift motion, Yal 
 Courtenay stepped before her aunt and grasped 
 the casing, her long, slim arm barring his way. 
 
 "You shall not enter!" she said in low, distinct 
 
120 CRAG-NEST. 
 
 tone. "If you do not respect this lady's gray hair, 
 you shall respect her home. Three unarmed wo- 
 men are here, nursing a dying soldier. If you be 
 a man, respect our sex and sorrow, and call off 
 your men!" 
 
 Abashed for the moment, the man drew back 
 before the fiery tone of the girl's whisper; but, 
 even as he did so, a slight creaking noise, and a 
 dull click caught her ear; and one swift glance 
 showed her the old clock door slightly ajar and the 
 gleam of the candle caught upon the leveled barrel 
 of a pistol, in the darkness behind her. But, even 
 at that supreme moment, she lost no coolness; mov- 
 ing her free hand before the candle in signal to- 
 ward the clock. For, as she spoke, the bugle on 
 the road sounded the halt; the hoof beats were 
 suddenly still, save those of a detached squad trot- 
 ting rapidly toward the house. 
 
 "Tam! Who vos doze?" the German growled, 
 turning to descend the step; but the squad was 
 upon them, and a stern voice called out of the 
 darkness : 
 
 "What troop is this; and who commands it?" 
 
 "Troop K, Second Regiment Buford's brigade; 
 Major Einvasserschwein in command," the 
 mounted lieutenant replied. 
 
 "Yah! Andt who ter tefil vos you? Some 
 pummers don'd it?" the major growled, and plac- 
 ing his foot in stirrup. 
 
BEYOND THE LINES. 121 
 
 "General Buford and escort," was the curt an- 
 swer. "Mount, sir! before jow report!" 
 
 "I vos moundedt, sheneral," the other an- 
 swered meekly, clambering into the saddle and 
 waving salute in the darkness. 
 
 "What are you doing here, sir; off the line of 
 pursuit and without orders?" 
 
 "Shust picking up some Shonnies, sheneral — " 
 
 "And needlessly insulting unprotected ladies, 
 General Buford," broke in Mrs. Courtenay, with 
 unusual heat. 
 
 "Why were we not halted and challenged, sir?" 
 the general asked sternly. "Are these the precau- 
 tions proper; at night — in the enemy's country?" 
 
 "Ve haf known dot bukle vos friendts, shen- 
 eral," the other replied, in different tone from that 
 he had used to the ladies. 
 
 "Your ears will not always protect you, sir," 
 the brigade commander replied. "Take your com- 
 mand to regimental headquarters at once; report 
 yourself to your colonel under arrest!" 
 
 Promptly the German gave the order — not un- 
 sheathing his sword; the troop lieutenant order- 
 ing: 
 
 "Platoon! By the left; trot! March!" 
 
 The squadron moved away into the darkness, 
 as the tall cavalry leader threw himself from sad- 
 dle and muttered under his breath: 
 
 "Curse these political appointments! That 
 
122 CRAG- NEST. 
 
 fellow may be a first-class ward-boss, but Sheridan 
 himself could never make him a soldier." 
 
 "He was keeping a beer-shop in my town when 
 the government honored me by making him my 
 lieutenant," the aid replied, as they turned to- 
 ward the steps. 
 
 "I hope, madam," the general said, raising his 
 hat courteously, "that you have suffered no discom- 
 fort at the hands of my men." 
 
 "None serious, as yet, sir," the old lady an- 
 swered gravely, "but your arrival was most — " she 
 hesitated an instant with the word "welcome" 
 upon her lips; changing to— "opportune, sir." 
 
 "I am glad for other reasons than duty that I 
 fancied some irregularities here, when I heard 
 horses in your grounds. You have, perhaps, for- 
 gotten my former visit, when I was Major Bu- 
 ford?" 
 
 "I have not, sir," she answered calmly. "Cour- 
 tesy like yours then is rare enough among our 
 Northern visitors to be remembered. I told you 
 truly then, that my kinsman was not beneath my 
 roof. lie is now here!" 
 
 The Federal's face, now in the full light, showed 
 quick change from grave courtesy to surprised 
 alertness. Ere her v\'ords were finished, his hand 
 had gone to his sword; and he turned as if to give 
 some order. But, quick as himself, she inter- 
 preted the gesture and added : 
 
BEYOND THE LINES. 12S 
 
 "He is lying very near death, I fear, General 
 Buford. He can not harm you now." 
 
 "I sincerely regret to hear it, madam," the 
 Northern soldier answered promptly. "When we 
 broke Early's right this morning, Colonel Calvert 
 rallied a handful of fugitives and turned on my 
 brigade in the grandest charge of the day! Can I 
 see him, madam? You ladies are alone here; and 
 I may be useful to a gallant enemy." 
 
 As Mrs. Courtenay hesitated, Wythe stepped 
 softly from the room and whispered: 
 
 "Cousin Wirt is awake. Aunt Virginia, and 
 insists on getting up to see who these men are." 
 
 "He must not be excited," the old ladj' ox- 
 claimed. "You had best enter, sir. I am assured 
 that you will be gentle with a helpless foe." 
 
 And with no word more, she stood aside and 
 courteously motioned him to proceed. 
 
 Colonel Calvert lay pale, unequal to the effort 
 he had made to rise to his elbow. But his eyes 
 were clear and bright as they fell upon the tall 
 form aj)proaching his bedside; and a sad smile 
 moved his mustache as he said feebly: 
 
 "You have got me at last, general, where I can 
 neither fight nor run; but the fault is your fellows', 
 not my owm." 
 
 "I am truly sorry, Colonel Calvert," the younger 
 soldier said in low voice. "I trust it is nothing- 
 serious, sir." 
 
124 ■ CRAG-NEST. 
 
 Again the sick man smiled grimly as he quoted: 
 
 " *No, 'tis not so deep as a well, nor so wide as 
 a church door; but 'tis enough!' " 
 
 A spasm of pain shot across his face and, spite 
 of iron will, the grim, gray mustache quivered as 
 he set his lips. 
 
 "Has he had surgical aid?" the general queried 
 hastily. 
 
 "Yes; on the field," Yal answered impulsively; 
 her great, dark eyes fixed piteously upon the 
 drawn face. "Without it he would have died upon 
 the field. A large artery was severed, the major 
 said." 
 
 "The major r^ the Federal's eyes caught the 
 girl's an instant, then glanced quickly around the 
 room; but she answered calm and unhesitatingly: 
 
 "Yes, the officer who brought him here, and es- 
 caped your German compatriot." 
 
 For sole reply. General Buford turned to Mrs. 
 Courtenay and said: 
 
 "I fear Colonel Calvert lacks for skilled treat- 
 ment, madam. My headquarters are ordered but 
 three miles below. I will send my staff surgeon 
 at once." A grave smile lit his face as he added: 
 "We did the damage, perhaps; so it is our place 
 to mend it." 
 
 The colonel's eyes opened calmly and turned 
 upon his visitor, as he said faintly: 
 
 "You are very good, general. I shall be better 
 
BEYOND THE LIJS'ES. 126 
 
 soon, but I thank you for your consideration for 
 my kinswoman.'- 
 
 "I hope, indeed you will," the Federal an- 
 swered cheerily, "and you will find Dr. Patterson 
 very skillful." He slipped off his gauntlet and 
 took the colonel's right hand in his, letting his 
 fingers rest carefully on the pulse as he spoke. 
 "We are on the move, but I may find time to call 
 again — with your permission and the ladies'." 
 
 "Thank you, general. Come, if your duty per- 
 mits," the old man answered; and Mrs. Courtenay 
 added: 
 
 "If you do, General Buford, you will always 
 be — " again she hesitated an instant — "sure of 
 courteous reception." 
 
 With a bow only he passed to the door, fol- 
 lowed by his hostess, who asked anxiously: 
 
 "Is he desperately hurt, sir?" 
 
 "I can not tell, madam," he answered gravely. 
 "He seems seriously hurt, and his pulse is very 
 weak. I should advise stimulants and absolute 
 quiet. Good-night, madam." Next moment he 
 had mounted and was galloping out at the head of 
 his escort. 
 
 Then — listening eagerly to the departing hoofs, 
 Val moved quickly to the clock, crying: 
 
 "They are gone! — all of them," 
 
 Eavanel struck the door open, rather impa- 
 tiently, uncocking his pistol and slipping it in the 
 
126 CRAG-NE8T. 
 
 holster as he did so. Then he looked full into the 
 girl's eyes and said: 
 
 "It is scarcely a fine part I have played in to- 
 night's scenes, Miss Courtenay; but you have 
 placed me under deepest oblif::ation." 
 
 "There can be none possible, sir," the girl an- 
 swered quietly, "when a Southern woman aids a 
 Southern soldier. I had done — " 
 
 "As much for any other, chancing here;" he 
 broke in hotly; and the girl, raising neither eyes 
 nor voice, replied promptly: 
 
 "Assuredly! You are all fighting for us; we 
 owe you all equal gratitude. I am glad you obeyed 
 my warning. Had you killed that brutal German, 
 a hideous scene must have followed, ending surely 
 in your death," 
 
 "And you would have felt — " he began quickly; 
 but— her face still downcast, but flushing as she 
 spoke — the girl as quickly interrupted: 
 
 "Deepest sorrow, sir. At this moment the 
 death of every soldier is a loss to the cause — a grief 
 to every Southern woman!" 
 
 For a single instant strong feeling glowed upon 
 the man's grave face; with passionate gesture he 
 advanced one step, about to speak. But he con- 
 trolled the sudden gust of impulse, and the voice 
 was quiet and cold as her own, that said: 
 
 "You are right, and your words remind me 
 how I neglect my duty. I must find the remnants 
 
BEYOND THE LINES. 127 
 
 of our brigade. God knows who are left — and 
 where they are; and I must search for them on 
 foot, as your German raider carried off our 
 horses." 
 
 "You can wait for daylight?" she asked; a re- 
 lenting in the tone. 
 
 "Impossible, Miss Courtenay!" He was en- 
 tirely himself again; self-contained and speaking 
 in his low voice. "In a tramp after the rout — for 
 now it seems to have been such — night is safer 
 than day, even were time not precious. I kno.v 
 every foot of this country." 
 
 "Oh! If you had a horse!" The girl spoke im- 
 pulsively; but he answered with a quiet smile: 
 
 "It will be my own fault if I do not by daylight. 
 So, good-bye, Miss Courtenay; and believe I will 
 not forget your saving me from capture like a 
 straggler or desertc^r!" 
 
 A careful footfall sounded across the field and 
 the soldier's hand went quickly to his holster, as 
 a familiar voice called softly: 
 
 "Ez dey all gone, missy?" 
 
 "Yes, Ziek; all are gone. Did they trouble 
 you at the barn?" 
 
 "I hasn't been at th' barn," the black answered, 
 advancing with a chuckle. "Wen I yeered da 
 Yankee gentlemuns a-comin', I tuk ter da woods." 
 
 "It was just as well," Ravanel answered. "You 
 could not have saved the horses." 
 
128 CRAO-NE8T. 
 
 "I dunno," Ezekiel answered quietly. "Bofe 
 da bosses tuk ter da woods wid me!" 
 
 "You brave, smart old fellow!" Ravanel cried 
 in delight. Then he turned to the girl, his face 
 glowing: "What do I not owe to Crag-Nest? 
 Certainty of escape, added to safety from dis- 
 honor!" 
 
 But Val Courtenay — in revulsion from anxiety 
 — was ice again once more; and it was the cold, 
 reserved voice that answered slowly: 
 
 "Safety from dishonor — should be paramount 
 with every Southern soldier!" 
 
HOME, FAREWELL. 129 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 HOME, FAREWELL. 
 
 Ten days succeeding the Opequon disaster 
 dragged slowly to the inmates of Crag-Nest. Yet 
 they were far from idle. 
 
 True to his promise, General Buford had sent 
 his brigade surgeon over by dawn; and Dr. Pat- 
 terson's careful examination of the colonel's 
 wounded thigh gave the ladies much hope, yet 
 not unmixed with serious anxiety. The ball had 
 plowed through, tearing the artery; and the doc- 
 tor's verdict was that the hasty ligation might 
 produce inflammation, and possibly sloughing. 
 
 "He has reacted wonderfully, madam," he said 
 to jMrs. Courtenay, after the diagnosis. "His i^ulse 
 is strong, there is no fever; and, better still, no 
 sort of fear. He seems to have great constitution 
 and to be in perfect health; but the greatest pos- 
 sible care must be taken to keep him quiet. All 
 old soldiers — especially commanders — are hard to 
 control ; but Colonel Calvert is so courtly a gentle- 
 man that I expect from him implicit obedience to 
 you and his gentle young nurses." 
 
 "You and General Buford, sir, have put our 
 household under grave compliment," the old lady 
 
 9 
 
130 CRAG-NEST. 
 
 said with stately courtesy. "Were all who wear 
 your uniform like you, this terrible war might be 
 a very different one." 
 
 "I am more than glad to have been of use," the 
 surgeon replied, quietly ignoring her comment. "I 
 hope I may be able to see him again before we 
 move, but at the rate the enemy is retreating, I 
 may be far out of reach to-night." 
 
 "Are there any special directions to leave, doc- 
 tor?" Val inquired in her thoughtful way. 
 
 "None, miss. Generous nourishment, necessary 
 stimulant when the pulse goes down, and the band- 
 age constantly wet with tlie lotion I left. Only 
 these, and above them all, absolute quiet and per- 
 fect rest for the limb. And now, ladies, I must 
 say good-night," and with a bow, the surgeon sig- 
 naled the sergeant and his escort and was about 
 to mount when he paused and turned back. "By 
 the way, ]Mrs. Courtenay," he said, "you are now 
 behind our lines; and, I hope, likel}^ to continue so. 
 In this, however, you are not likely to agree with 
 me; and, should you wish to move, you will need 
 permit." He took out his note-book and wrote 
 rapidly, then reading aloud: 
 
 "Mrs. Courtenay, of Crag-Nest, with two ladies 
 and a wounded officer. Colonel Wirt Calvert, have 
 permission to pass all posts and pickets of the U. S. 
 Army between their home and the Confederate 
 line. Paroled this 20th Sept., 1863. By order 
 
HOME, FAREWELL. 131 
 
 Brig.-Gen'l Buford, Commanding — th Cavalry 
 "Patterson, Lt.-Col. Brig. Surgeon." 
 
 Brigade 
 
 As he finished, he tore the slip from his book, 
 tendering it to Mrs. Courtenay; but the old lad}' 
 hesitated, drawing herself up to full height, as she 
 replied : 
 
 "But, sir, we have given no parole." 
 
 "That is not vital," he replied with a smile. "I 
 will accept it as constructive. You ladies do not 
 form a very dangerous body; and the general, of 
 course, paroled Colonel Calvert." 
 
 Never, to her own knowledge, had Mrs. Courte- 
 nay wavered from the direct path of strictest ve- 
 racity; and, in her code of ethics, the suppression 
 of truth was the meanest suggestion of falsehood. 
 But the freedom of her kinsman — the comfort, if 
 not the safety, of her girls — were too great prizes 
 to be thrown away; so, taking the paper quietly, 
 she slipped it into the bosom of her dress, even as 
 she replied: 
 
 "M}^ cousin's parole will have to be 'construc- 
 tive' also. General Buford, sir, made not the re- 
 motest allusion to it." 
 
 The surgeon smiled quietly, as he answered: 
 
 "You are a diplomatiste, madam, and I am too 
 old a soldier to attempt correction of my com- 
 mander. Keep the paper. It can do the flag no 
 
132 CRAG- NEST. 
 
 harm, and may be useful to you. And now, ladies, 
 good-night." 
 
 He rode away too rapidly to overhear the old 
 lady's comment: 
 
 "That Yankee is a perfect gentleman, Val; and 
 I really believe that I should have been tempted 
 to offer him a glass of wine if — we had one in the 
 house." 
 
 From that night the colonel was a model pa- 
 tient; obeying implicitly every direction of his 
 gentle nurses, and gaining strength, and his old- 
 time cheerfulness, under their tender ministra- 
 tions. Iron constitution and great will power 
 aided these; and a week's time found the veteran 
 apparently well on the road to recovery. But 
 meantime many visitors had wandered to Crag- 
 Nest; some mounted, but the majority on foot; a 
 few of them bearing honorable passport of recent 
 wounds. These last received welcome and care 
 from the lady of the house. But the majority of 
 visitors were stragglers and skulkers from either 
 army — those miserable god-fathers of the modern 
 tramp. And these received small consideration, 
 but always a strong lecture from the staunch old 
 matron, though none of them — if really foot-sore 
 and hungry — were turned away without a crust 
 from the fast lessening stores at Crag-Nest. And 
 the latter could not now be replenished, with com- 
 munications wholly cut off, and nothing with 
 
HOME, FAREWELL. 133 
 
 which to purchase from the enemy but Confederate 
 money. So Ezekiel proved himself — in addition to 
 other valuable accomplishments— a most success- 
 ful forager; corn and fruit from the ungathered 
 crop often filling his sack, and occasional honncs 
 houches of bacon and canned meats from some dis- 
 tant Yankee camp. These last the girls received 
 and served without question; certain that the head 
 of the house would have forbidden further foray 
 had she suspected their source, or one tithe of the 
 romance necessary to procure them for the suffer- 
 ing but eloquent man and brother. Meanwhile, 
 only "rumors of wars," vague and unreliable, 
 floated in to the cut-off household; but Federal 
 bummer and Confederate straggler alike agreed 
 that Early had reorganized his beaten army, and 
 that Sheridan was massing for a still heavier and 
 more decisive blow. From Crag-Nest, the only 
 pickets, patrols and massed bodies of moving 
 troops now seen were uniformed in blue; and its 
 women felt, more than ever before, their absolute 
 isolation. They were, indeed, cut off; and that at 
 a time when supplies and minor luxuries Mere 
 more than ever missed, and when medical skill 
 might become a vital need at any moment. And 
 when a week passed by, the quiet of the mending 
 invalid began to give way to frequent, and some- 
 times fretful, queries about household needs; but 
 more especially about the movement of the armies. 
 
184 CRAO-NE8T. 
 
 And at last, the iteration of the formula, "No re- 
 liable news," began to seem to his impatience only 
 the suppression of disastrous tidings. He grew 
 more fretful under imposed restraint; insisted that 
 he was much better, and taxed equally the pa- 
 tience and the resolution of his faithful nurses, in 
 carrying out the surgeon's strong injunction for 
 his absolute quiet. 
 
 Then, suddenly through the oppressive but 
 ominous silence in the Valley, broke the dread 
 echo of that order for destruction, which sounded 
 to the very foundations of civilization; hearing 
 which, the Southern Rachel sat by her desolated 
 hearth, groaning in her soul : '' Ye have made it a 
 desert!" even while she might not add: "And 
 have called it peace." 
 
 Sheridan's order — carrying out the ideas of 
 Lieut.-General Grant — had gone out to destroy all 
 subsistence in the Valley; wheat, corn and stock. 
 Its carrying out had been entrusted to no unwill- 
 ing hands; and now vast tracts, lately teeming 
 with ungarnered grain, stretched black and bare; 
 while smouldering rafters of mill and barn still 
 sent their curling protests upward against "Man's 
 inhumanity to man." All four-footed things were 
 driven from already depleted farms; and, where 
 not fit for army use, were slaughtered to prevent 
 all usufruct to the stubborn defenders of "Lee's 
 granary." For the fiat had gone forth inexorable 
 — only to be inexorably observed : 
 
HOME, FAREWELL. 135 
 
 "Death is popularly considered the maximum 
 punishment in war, but it is not; reduction to pov- 
 erty brings prayers for peace more surely and more 
 quickly than does the destruction of human life, 
 as the selfishness of man has demonstrated in more 
 than one great conflict."* 
 
 And now EzekiePs foraging was light, while 
 his budget of black tidings was heavy indeed; and, 
 like the ancient, he brought in the latter ever be- 
 fore him, while the former's depleted weight hung 
 behind, woefully light. And — emboldened by im- 
 munity from check, from Early's still disorganized 
 command — the black riders of Destruction waxed 
 as bold as fat; and day or night: 
 
 "The tramp — the tramp of iron hoofs, 
 
 With mutter hoarse, 
 Comes on, with flames of burning roofs 
 
 To marlc its course. 
 Far in tlie distance seen at first. 
 
 The dwellings light ; 
 Bat, one by one, they nearer burst 
 
 Upon the sight; 
 And all along that valley fair. 
 The homeless shrieklngs of despair 
 Come throbbing upward thro' the air 
 
 Of pitying night! 
 
 " And riding, trooping rank on rank, 
 With jingling spur and sabre clank, 
 The men who bear that order stern 
 Have come to desolate and burn. 
 O God I May never more return 
 
 A lot so hard to bear!" 
 
 ■ General Sheridan's own words. 
 
136 CRAG- NEST. 
 
 And now, at last, the resources of the brave 
 women about the sick man's couch had come to 
 their meagrest point. Stimulants were exhausted; 
 nourishing food was not to be had, and the daily 
 needs of all were filled by green corn and parched- 
 potato '^coffee"; the fast lessening meal and flour 
 being kept sacred for the sick man. And, only 
 then, the council of three decided that movement 
 — or its alternative, starvation — stared at them 
 as an absolute certainty. 
 
 To decide was to act, for the mistress of Crag- 
 Nest. Very calmly she told her patient of so much 
 of the situation as was necessary; that the home 
 resources no longer availed them or him; and 
 showed him General Buford's order for their 
 safety. This had stood them in good stead on 
 more than one occasion of raid or other visit; and 
 the immediate grounds of the home stood almost 
 solitary in immunity. Even Selim had been 
 spared the usual fate of worthless mules; and Eze- 
 kiel had carefully cached the colonel's tall but 
 now lank steed deep in the woods, away from any 
 path. 
 
 Told the situation, the veteran bit his mustache 
 and knotted his brows awhile, in deep thought. 
 Then his face cleared up and he said, much in his 
 old manner: 
 
 "The order is a hard and cruel one. Cousin Vir- 
 ginia; it is barbarity, not war. That, as I take it, 
 
IIOMK, FARKWEI.L. 137 
 
 should be conducted much as a duel between gen- 
 tlemen; and this is the shop-keeper's notion of war. 
 It will cripple us still more, but, as I told you some- 
 time ago, thinkers in the army — from General Lee 
 down — have begun to consider the war a question 
 of time, not one of result. If truly there can be 
 but one ending, perhaps the sooner we reach it the 
 better for humanity and the future. Zounds! 
 Sheridan is helping us to solve the problem. But 
 now for the home department," his rare smile of 
 other days lit his drawn face. "You dear ladies 
 have suffered more than you tell me for my sake. 
 That must cease. Why, I am nearly myself again ; 
 see!" he clinched his hand, raising his arm with 
 some vigor, as he rose to the other elbow. 
 
 "Cousin Wirt," exclaimed Yal, "how dare you? 
 And what sort of a soldier are you, to disobey or- 
 ders like that?" 
 
 "But, my dear child, one must creep before he 
 walks. If you fair tyrants keep me on my back, 
 how will I get strength to ride as your escort into 
 our lines?" 
 
 The girl smiled sadly at him, as she strove to 
 answer cheerily: 
 
 "The best soldiers obey, without question; bul 
 I will tell you that everything is arranged. To- 
 morrow we can start." 
 
 "Yes, Cousin Wirt," Wythe cried, overhearing 
 as she entered with some corn bread of her own 
 
138 CRAG-NEST. 
 
 make. "I am to ride your horse and Val will drive 
 you and Aunt Virginia in the phaeton, until we 
 reach our lines and borrow an ambulance." 
 
 Mrs. Courtenay, standing with imle, sad face, 
 moved her lips as though about to speak; but they 
 only moved soundlessly and she turned quickly 
 away, passing slowly from the room. Quietly, but 
 equally quickly, Val followed, slipping her arm 
 within her aunt's and pressing her hand in silent 
 token of sympathy. 
 
 "Well, my fair little martinet," they heard the 
 colonel say, "I will obey unquestioning. I have 
 given you my parole. But, zounds! That paper," 
 he added suddenly. "I can not use it. I never 
 gave the Yankee my parole." 
 
 "Why, no! How could you?" the little diplo- 
 matiste answered. "He never asked it. You can 
 use it, as he said, 'constructively'; and you will not 
 refuse, when it is for our safety." 
 
 For sole reply the veteran tugged slowly at his 
 mustache. Then he ate his simple lunch thought- 
 fully, and gallantly kissed the white little hand 
 that reached for the empty plate. 
 
 Next noon a negro parson of much reputed 
 sanctity, and more than suspected of being em- 
 ployed as a Federal spy, visited Ezekiel by agree- 
 ment. That faithful servitor had promised to use 
 the parson in a lay capacity; and, with his assist- 
 ance, Colonel Calvert — though stoutly protesting 
 
HOME, FAREWELL. ]39 
 
 his perfect ability to walk — was lifted bodily from 
 his couch to the folded comforter laid entirely 
 across the left side of the old phaeton. Adieux 
 were spoken, as on that previous preparation for 
 flight from the Land of Bondage; but this time the 
 mistress broke down completely, and past the 
 power of speech, when the old negro and his wife 
 kissed her hands, sobbing like little children. 
 Without a word — but with one, long, lingering, 
 piteous look up at her life-long home, she took her 
 seat beside her kinsman; Val taking the reins 
 above the worn old mule. Then the old negro 
 carefully lifted Wythe to Yal's old side-saddle; 
 strange-seeming to the fretful war horse. 
 
 "Good-bye, faithful old Ezekiel!" the colonel 
 cried suddenly. "We will never forget your care of 
 the ladies. Give me your hand, sir! I have taken 
 a prince's with less pleasure. Zounds! sir, if you 
 are black, you are a perfect gentleman!" 
 
 It was over. The home tie was broken at last; 
 and driving slowly and carefully, Yal passed into 
 the road, leaving Crag-Nest behind. But not one 
 word was spoken; and neither head was turned 
 for a last, longed-for look. 
 
140 CRAG-NEST. 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 now BLOOD TOLD. . 
 
 The drive was necessarily slow, and it was late 
 afternoon when they reached the first Federal 
 picket. Its officer received them gruffly enough 
 at first; but his manner changed on the presenta- 
 tion of their permit. 
 
 "And you are the rebel officer, sir?" he asked 
 the colonel. 
 
 "I am Colonel Calvert, of the Confederate Army, 
 sir," the colonel answered, as feebly as testily. The 
 strain of the long drive had told upon him; and 
 Val, quietly reaching her hand to his, found it dry 
 and feverish. 
 
 "Is there a camp beyond on this road, sir?" she 
 queried quietly of the Federal. 
 
 "Yes, miss; ten or twelve mile, I guess. Two 
 squadrons of Buford's Brigade camp there with 
 his hospital train." 
 
 "Do you know the surgeon in charge?" the girl 
 again asked quickly. 
 
 "Old Patterson, I guess," the man answered 
 carelessly, "and all the staff. They say the whole 
 army is falling back on — " he checked himself sud- 
 denly, adding: "All right, colonel, you can pro- 
 ceed; your parole is all right." 
 
HOW BLOOD TOLD. 141 
 
 The old gentleman's face flushed and he seemed 
 about to speak, but controlled himself until they 
 moved forward. Then he exclaimed testily: 
 
 "Confound that paper! For the first time in 
 my life, Cousin Virginia, I seem to be sailing under 
 false colors. I gave no parole, and these insolent 
 rascals insist I have." 
 
 "But Cousin Wirt, it was merely written con- 
 structively." 
 
 "Zounds! Madam," he answered, half rising 
 to his elbow, "a parole is delicate point of honor; 
 and in such all must be direct and clear. * I brought 
 my sword from the field, buckled about me. Ever 
 since it has laid under my coverlid. It is wrapped 
 in these comforters now. And, zounds! none of 
 these hireling gentlemen ever asked me for it when 
 I could draw it! Why, I refused to surrender 
 when Ravanel urged necessity, after the fellow 
 leaped from his horse in a hail of fire to prevent my 
 falling from mine! Zounds! Madam, would I let 
 my comrade walk through shot and shell to carry 
 me out of their reach when I was bleeding to 
 death, only to surrender now that I am well?" 
 
 As his French friends would have said, the vet- 
 eran was a cheval now; and he raised to his elbow 
 with vigorous gesture of his free hand. Mrs. 
 Courtenay did not reply. She only beat up his 
 pillow more comfortably as — the unnatural 
 strength of excitement passing — he fell back upon 
 
142 CRAG-NEST. 
 
 it. But his mind still ran upon the subject, and 
 presently he said : 
 
 "Cousin Virginia, I have determined what I 
 will do. If General Buford, or any officer of my 
 own rank, is at this camp I will explain this busi- 
 ness and set this thing straight." 
 
 "As you please, cousin," the old lady answered 
 quietly, "but I see no necessity; they will ask no 
 questions." 
 
 "Zounds! Madam, I care nothing for their 
 questions! My own self-respect as an officer and 
 a gentleman has been asking questions ever since 
 I heard of this farce!" he cried; and Yal, turning 
 at his unwarranted vehemence, noted that a deep 
 flush was on his forehead and cheeks and a restless 
 movement in his eyes. Plainly the fatigue and 
 heat after his long rest had fevered the wounded 
 man; and the quick glance the women exchanged 
 showed that both recognized it. But he was silent 
 now, save for broken exclamations, as he dozed fit- 
 fully, but woke at every unusual jolt of the old 
 vehicle. Sunset fell when the picket had been left 
 only about six miles, and its afterglow was fading 
 into dull gray as they passed the next rise. 
 
 Colonel Calvert suddenly uttered a sharp ex- 
 clamation of pain, followed by a deep, long gasp; 
 and both women, turning to him, saw his face 
 deadly pale, but drawn with suffering, and great 
 beads of sweat standing upon his brow. 
 
HOW BLOOD TOLD. 143 
 
 "Oh! How careless I am!" Val cried, seizing 
 the bottle of lotion and throwing back the light 
 covering from the leg on the improvised litter, 
 stretching beyond the front seat on her left. "I 
 have neglected to moisten his bandage and its pres- 
 sure pains him." 
 
 But her own face grew paler than his, as a 
 glance showed her the tight cloths, not dry, but 
 soaked with deep red blood, already beginning to 
 ooze through and drip slowly upon the cushion. 
 But the good old Virginian blood that had de- 
 serted the girl's cheeks had not fled from her brave 
 heart; and, crying to the mule, she dropped the 
 reins and resolutely grasped the bleeding limb 
 with both hands. Passing the left beneath to raise 
 it gently, she felt along above the bandage with 
 her right hand, and pressed it firm and strong upon 
 the course of the great artery. Then, even before 
 Mrs. Courtenay could si^eak, she cried sharply: 
 
 "Wythe! Ride for your life: The hospital 
 camp must be near — straight ahead ! Bring a sur- 
 geon! Quick!" 
 
 "What is it?" Wythe asked; open-eyed at the 
 tone, as she urged the restive war-horse close to 
 the mule. 
 
 "The artery! Tell him to bring tourniquet and 
 silk!" Val w^hispered rapidly, but never turning 
 her head. "Ride fast! 'Tis life or death." 
 
 With her words, the younger girl struck her 
 
144 CRAG-NEST. 
 
 horse sharply with the SAvitch; he bounded away 
 at full gallop and passed beyond sight in the fad- 
 ing twilight, his rider's light form swaying to his 
 fierce stride. 
 
 "Don't trouble — oh-h! You can do — ^uoth- 
 ing!" the sick soldier murmured faintly, as another 
 fluttering spasm passed his face. But he bit his 
 mustache grimly and took a deep breath, as Mrs. 
 Courtenay bathed his forehead and said gently: 
 
 "Cheer up. Cousin Wirt! Your horse is fresh 
 and she will be back soon. It is only a trifle." 
 
 What might have been a smile quivered the 
 gray hairs, as his teeth released them; and he an- 
 swered in half gasps: 
 
 "Trifles make up — the sum of life — or death! 
 Don't trouble — Yal — brave — " 
 
 Again his eyes closed, as his voice died away in 
 a long sigh; and the matron felt his brow cold and 
 clammy. 
 
 But Yal Courtenay heard the lessening thud of 
 rapid hoofs die away, with a feeling of despairing 
 desolation weighing on brain and heart. How far 
 it was to the camp she could only guess; some miles 
 at least; and the crimson ooze was slowly spread- 
 ing over her upper hand, warm and sticky; while 
 it sent great, thick drops trickling upon her lower 
 arm. And with dull, sickening sense she felt her 
 left hand suddenly cramp and the muscles of both 
 arms quiver; and her brain reeled with rapid con- 
 jecture of the horse's speed and the lead-like min- 
 
HOW BLOOD TOLD. 146 
 
 utes that must pass before succor could arrive. 
 With the thought, she grew dizzy and her eyes 
 closed one instant. The next, she braced herself, 
 body and mind; and, tightening her grasp and 
 pressure, the girl gradually turned herself around ; 
 kneeling on the footboard to face her patient and 
 giving the muscles of her back and arms, at the 
 same time, rest and fuller strength. 
 
 And still the cruel, red stream oozed slowly 
 through the bandage, creeping up toward her 
 elbow and dropping heavy and dull upon the rug 
 below; and she felt the artery jump and throb 
 beueath her other hand, as though struggling to be 
 free and jet out, at one gush, the dearly-prized 
 life for which she fought. Not one word escaped 
 her tightly pressed lips and clinched teeth. Her 
 quick intuition told her she had grappled with a 
 force beyond her strength; that, in the death strug- 
 gle with it she must husband ever}- jot of nerve and 
 muscle and will; and — with that calmness which 
 comes to rare natures in the presence of deadly 
 peril — she closed her eyes and forced back calcula- 
 tion of distance and horse's speed, lest thought 
 even might drain the strength so sorely needed. 
 
 But her aunt, pale and trembling, softly bathed 
 the now cold forehead — passing an old-time vin- 
 aigrette before the quivering nostrils, as she 
 whispered: 
 
 "Are you easy, my cousin?" 
 
 10 
 
146 CRAG-NEST. 
 
 For only answer came a long, shuddering sigh; 
 but the veteran lay still and calm, as the hand the 
 old lady had taken fell limp and nerveless beside 
 him, its pulse barely a thin, flickering thread. But 
 Val felt the artery beneath her hand still pumping 
 piston-like and fierce with every beat of the true 
 old heart; and she pressed down firmer still and 
 braced her heels against the dashboard, as racking 
 pain began to pass up both arms and into her 
 shoulders. 
 
 Suddenly the colonel shivered; then drew a 
 deep, quivering breath, holding it with effort as 
 he faltered faintly: 
 
 ''Don't, child — thanks — trouble — all over soon 
 now — " 
 
 Again he was still, as the fast fading dusk 
 deepened into night; and Yal — opening her eyes 
 an instant — could scarce distinguish the dim out- 
 line of her aunt, bending above the sufferer in the 
 phaeton's shadow. And velvet-shod, but leaden- 
 footed, the minutes dragged themselves along; the 
 two brave women holding their fearful vigil in 
 that thick darkness, unrelieved by even one ray of 
 hope. For, though neither spoke, each felt the 
 other knew how slender the thread on which that 
 precious life was hanging — the pressure of one 
 finger of a weak girl's hand! 
 
 Then suddenly the matron whispered, calmly 
 and low out of the darkness: 
 
HOW BLOOD TOLD. 147 
 
 "Val! he has fainted!" 
 
 Still the girl did not speak. Her jaws seemed 
 locked, her lips glued together; a hideous, racking 
 flame shooting from her arms, shrinking her 
 shoulders and searing her very spine! A dull 
 roaring as of distant surf boomed in her ears and 
 throbbed upon her brain. But the marvelous 
 strength of will beat down body and brain, before 
 the inexorable need to bend all power of both to 
 that terrible pressure on the artery. 
 
 More minutes passed. At length the cold, 
 shivering dread crept about her heart; beating 
 down all barriers of will and sense and duty to let 
 in the hideous fact. She could not hold out much 
 longer. Minutes seemed hours; and the searing 
 fire in her arms and spine scorched with agony 
 not long to be endured. Clammy moisture 
 thickened on her brow, trickling over her cold face 
 and — as she knew, shudderingly — sapping her 
 strength still more. Louder and faster boomed 
 the surf-sounds on her brain; her throat grew 
 parched and seemed to close; the moisture from 
 her wet hair dropping as from storm-soaked leaves. 
 Thought, quickened by dread, shrieked at her from 
 within that she was hunmn — ^weak — must fail! 
 Keeping time with the now lessening throbs of 
 the artery, each thump of her laboring heart 
 seemed to jump into her throat, choking and sick- 
 ening; and she grew dizzy as she saw — through 
 
148 CRAG-KEST. 
 
 her closed lids — her own grip relax and great 
 dazzling spurts of crimson flash by her eyes, bear- 
 ing in them the remnants of life still left to him! 
 
 But the grip of her hands — spasmodic and 
 mechanical now— closed upon the bleeding thigh 
 until they buried themselves in the firm muscles. 
 But — through it all the pure woman's soul never 
 once lifted itself to the Throne's foot in supplica- 
 tion. It was a grim death-grapple of nerve and 
 muscle only with death. She dared not turn one 
 thought away, for one brief second, from that 
 fierce, relentless pressure. 
 
 She had no time to pray ! 
 
 Ages — aeons of ages — bore down upon her 
 through that darkness; numbing brain and heart 
 and soul — 
 
 "How long, O Lord! How long?" 
 
 Then, through the black silence crashed a 
 sound. Horses' hoofs, at a mad gallop, struck the 
 road above. Nearer they came, clattering along- 
 side; lanterns swinging high above their riders. 
 
 "Here we are! Quick, Martin; the tourniquet!" 
 Surgeon Patterson cried, throwing his horse upon 
 his haunches and swinging from saddle. "That's 
 right; fill that hypodermic, Johnson! Here, 
 Martin, hold my case and get a suture! Hold the 
 lantern, madam!" 
 
 As he spoke, the surgeon had thrown back the 
 
HO \V BLOOD TOLD. 149 
 
 phaeton's folding top, swung his lantern over the 
 colonel's pallid face and placed firm finger on his 
 pulse. Mrs. Courtenay, deadly pale and breathing 
 laboriously, took the lamp from his hand, as she 
 gasped : 
 
 "Is he dead?" 
 
 "Bosh! Good as two dead men! Close shave 
 though. Why, miss — " 
 
 He never finished the sentence. Val Courte- 
 nay opened her eyes one second. The next she had 
 fallen stark and cold across the wheel; only the 
 burly surgeon's quick motion saving its striking 
 her head. 
 
 "Lay her on the grass, Johnson! Head low. 
 Quick here! No time to lose. This is a flood!" 
 
 He had turned to the colonel again; passing a 
 keen knife under the bandage as he spoke. Its 
 pressure removed, the jetting blood spun high 
 above his head in ruby spray. Next instant the 
 tourni(iuet was around the thigh; the knife was 
 through the lips of the wound; and the forceps had 
 gripped the ruptured edges of the artery. 
 
 "Ah! That's it; now the silk, Martin. Move, 
 Johnson! Yes, the hj^podermic; in his left side- 
 quick! There we are! and a d — d close shave!" 
 
 Ten minutes later an ambulance clattered up; 
 strong arms lifted the wounded man and laid him 
 gently on the wide mattress. Then the surgeon 
 turned courteously to the ladies — no longer the 
 
150 CBAG-NISST. 
 
 field-surgeon; the mechanical life-saving automa- 
 ton: 
 
 "My clear Mrs. Courtenay, have no fear. Bu- 
 ford prepared this trap for his own use; so you 
 may be sure it is comfortable. He will be as safe 
 and easy there as under your own roof. By the 
 way, Martin, is there anything in the locker? 
 These ladies probably have not supped. As for 
 you, jNIiss Courtenay" — he turned to Yal, gently 
 taking her hand and pressing the pulse: — "Um! 
 You must take another little nip of that toddy I 
 gave you just now. Don't be alarmed; this is not 
 army brandy, but from my own cellar." 
 
 As he spoke he poured a portion in a graduated 
 glass, dropping some aromatic tincture from a 
 phial: "Take that, please! Thank you. And per- 
 mit me to say, miss, that I am pretty well accus- 
 tomed to bravery; but you are — a hero!" 
 
 The girl's pale face did not change at the words; 
 but her dark eyes gleamed eagerly in the lamp- 
 light, as she asked: 
 
 "Have you saved him?" 
 
 "No, miss; emphatically / have not. I have 
 eased him and prevented bad results, I believe. 
 But I am sure — you saved him!" 
 
 With courteous kindliness he assisted the 
 ladies into the ambulance, passing in a lantern, as 
 he said: 
 
 "No, madam; do not fan him. For a man with 
 
now BLOOD TOLD. 151 
 
 that little blood, the night air is cool enough. Miss 
 Courtenay, wet his lips with this frequently; if he 
 swallows some it will not kill him, eh?" 
 
 ''Oh! sir," Yal suddenly cried, ''where is my 
 little cousin?" 
 
 "Where you will be presently, I hope," he an- 
 swered smiling. "In bed in my tent, in charge 
 of a Red Cross nurse. The brave little lady in- 
 sisted on piloting me; but I knew^ speed was es- 
 sential, and she has had ride enough for one night 
 on that mastodon of the colonel's. Now, ladies, 
 we must move. He is all right, for the present; 
 and I will ride by your side. Make yourselves at 
 home. This ambulance is yours, until you reach 
 Reb — Confederate lines; and — if Gordon will 
 countersign that pass I gave — until you reach the 
 Richmond railroad!" 
 
162 CRAO-NEST. 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 A morning's misadventures. 
 
 Once more the war-dogs are in leash across 
 the devoted Valley; tugging fiercely at restraint 
 and equally eager for the death-grapple. 
 
 Time, that stays for no man, has swept warm 
 September aside, and the mellow days of mid-Oc- 
 tober are basking down upon old Three Top Moun- 
 tain, where Early has his signal station. That 
 grim old Confederate has massed his troops below 
 and northward ; stretching away his advanced line 
 almost to Cedar Creek, where General Wright 
 holds the further bank with Sheridan's advance. 
 For, after his victory on the Opequon, the Federal 
 general had struck but once in force — at Fisher's 
 Hill; and Eosser's disaster at Tom's Kun — deris- 
 ively dubbed the "Woodstock Races" by the vic- 
 tors — was merely an exaggerated skirmish be- 
 tween the now admirable cavalry of the enemy 
 and the demoralized and half-dismounted squad- 
 rons of the South. 
 
 Why his victory-flushed army — reinforced and 
 splendidly equipped — had not been pushed for- 
 ward before his own shattered columns could be 
 reorganized and strengthened, the Confederate 
 
A 3fORyiXGS MISADYEXTURES. 153 
 
 could only wonder. He did not comprehend the 
 vast power of the political upon the military situ- 
 ation, beyond the Potomac; or that popular clamor 
 was loud, at the North, against Lee's long resist- 
 ance to Grant's sledge-hammer blows against the 
 very back door to Richmond. And that fighter — 
 as well as Mr. Lincoln and Secretary Stanton — 
 persistently warned "Little Phil" that his next 
 blow" must not be to maim, but to destroy. 
 
 The southern situation, still niore grave, held 
 the protection^ of the Valley — equally the granary 
 and transportation line, as the bulwark against 
 that advance on Lee — to mean the salvation of 
 the Confederate capital. 
 
 Early — reinforced by fresh troops, and given 
 full time to reorganize his beaten veterans — was 
 now in better condition for defense, or aggression, 
 than at any moment since his Opequon defeat. 
 The spirit of his tattered and half-starved men 
 was better also; new levies, equally with old sol- 
 diers of Jackson's Valley wars — being eager to be 
 loosed upon their successful and arrogant enemy. 
 
 During the lull, however, frequent heavy skir^ 
 mishes had taken place between the cavalry, feel- 
 ing each other's lines; some of them obstinate and 
 bloody, but all resultless upon the suspenseful sit- 
 uation, until the 13tli of October. That day, Ker- 
 shaw's tough old division struck Torbert's at 
 Hupp's Hill, driving it in demoralized retreat, and 
 
154 CJiAG-NEST. 
 
 leaving General Wright in anxious seat at Cedar 
 Creek. 
 
 The opportunity had come at last; and, only the 
 third dawn, Confederate signal flags on Three Top 
 flai)ped out that historic dispatch to Early: 
 
 "Be ready to move as soon as I join you, and we 
 will crush Sheridan. Longstreet, Lieutenant- 
 General." 
 
 But other e^^es than those meant saw the flags; 
 tlie spy-stolen code gave its purport to Wright, 
 and the best mounted courier was soon bearing it 
 to Sheridan, at Front Royal. But Earl}^ was igno- 
 rant of this; and equally of the fact that Sheridan 
 — sending all cavalry but his escort to Wright, and 
 confident that Longstreet could not make his com- 
 bination before his return — was speeding away to 
 Washington for a conference with Mr. Lincoln and 
 the war secretary. 
 
 In war, as in love, "trifles light as air, are con- 
 firmation strong"; and the Federal general rode 
 away, while his grim opponent pushed forward. 
 
 So it fell out that, at dawn two days later, a 
 scouting column trotted briskly out of a by-road, 
 on to the Yalley pike. At its head rode Fraser 
 Ravanel; three stars upon his collar now. For his 
 delay at Crag-Nest, when Ziek saved his horse, 
 had proved a blessing in disguise, and he had been 
 just in time to cut off the fugitives of his own brig- 
 ade that night. Massing them with some of Cal- 
 
A MORNING'S MISADVENTURES. 165 
 
 vert's cooler veterans, and ably aided by Rob 
 Maury, he had turned them upon the over-confi- 
 dent pursuit; first checking, then driving it back 
 down the same road, broken and demoralized. 
 This service had won his transfer and promotion 
 to lieutenant-(^olonel of Calvert's old corps, and his 
 signal gallantry at Fisher's Hill — when his colonel 
 fell and he held Merritt off Early's rear for hours — 
 added the third star. 
 
 By Colonel Eavanel's side rode Rob Maury; his 
 collar, too, decorated with' an extra bar, for the 
 youth's good service had gained his step, and he 
 was now captain and adjutant of his brigade. 
 
 "I am glad we heard from the old colonel, yes- 
 terday," he was saying, as they trotted on. "By 
 George! What a constitution he has, to rally so, 
 after such a bleeding! They were lucky to get 
 through the very night before Fisher's Hill. And 
 isn't Yal a real heroine, colonel, to act as she did?" 
 
 "Your cousin is a brave woman," the senior 
 answered gravely. 
 
 "She's one woman in a thousand," the other 
 stated warmly. "If the Confederacy holds an- 
 other like her, and she's young enough, I'll lay my 
 captaincy at her feet, for better or worse. By the 
 way, colonel, didn't I understand her to say that 
 you two had met in Richmond?" 
 
 "Yes, three years ago, at Judge Brooke's," was 
 the quiet answer. "But we are nearing the enemy. 
 
156 CRAG-NEST. 
 
 sir; and they must be close enough to keep our 
 eyes open. Close up the squad and warn the offi- 
 
 cers 
 
 !" 
 
 liob rode rearward on that duty; soon return- 
 ing and riding again beside his commander, as 
 they turned a curve of the mountain road; descend- 
 ing to more level country — black and burned, with 
 no obstruction to the view, but muddy and heavy 
 from recent rain. 
 
 "Look!" he cried suddenly-, pointing to a dis- 
 tant cabin across fields- and far beyond clear view. 
 
 "A Yankee trooper's horse, I judge, from the 
 covered saddle," Colonel Kavanel answered, low- 
 ering his field glass. "I can not make him out 
 plainly, but — his rider would not be alone." 
 
 ''Unless a scout, sir!" l\ob exclaimed eagerly. 
 "He's a find, anyway. Let me cut him out!" 
 
 A nod was the reph^, and the adjutant — quickly 
 choosing four men of the best mounted — ^spurred 
 at the fragment of fence, the five taking it almost 
 together, but a tall gray landing just ahead of 
 Val's pet sorrel. 
 
 Next instant Captain Robert Maury was stone- 
 blind, the morning breeze whistling by his ears, 
 but sound his only guide, as heavy hoofs slumped 
 on before and behind him. The field was of rough 
 furrows, changed to mud by the late rain; and the 
 gray's heels had hurled two goodly portions of it 
 full into the open eyes of the squad commander. 
 
A MORNING'8 MISADVENTURES. 157 
 
 Blinded completely — but feeling increased stride 
 of his own ambitious horse, on seeing the gray pass 
 — Rob clung with knee and only steadied his sor- 
 rel, soothing him by voice and hand. On they 
 rushed, splashing and floundering here; increas- 
 ing speed again, as sounder footing offered. And 
 Rob — fuming inwardly, but too proud to order 
 slackened speed — heard another horse close be- 
 hind. Then his own took a ditch in his stride, 
 speeding away again; and, suddenly he seemed to 
 mount into the air to tremendous height — to skim 
 across space for many seconds; then to light again 
 and rush onward with a cheery snort. In inky 
 darkness, the rider clung with knee and thigh; but 
 — not knowing what might be before him — he 
 dared not loose the rein; and his wrinkled old 
 gauntlet only smeared the clay more closely over 
 his smarting optics, as his right hand essayed to 
 clear them. 
 
 Then — after what seemed to him many miles of 
 furious rush, broken ever and anon by sudden 
 leaps — a voice ahead cried: 
 
 "Ware fence! She's stiff!" 
 
 Rob's right gauntlet was between his teeth, 
 and he quickly drew away his free hand, at the 
 same moment loosing the rein and throwing the 
 mud from his eyes with a snap of both hands. 
 Dimly, he saw the rail fence — uninjured there — 
 rise stiff and high, ten yards away, barely in time 
 
158 CRAG-NEST. 
 
 to grasp the rein and lift the panting horse to the 
 leap. 
 
 And on the other side stood the negro cabin, 
 the coveted j^rize hitched before it, still and quiet. 
 Already the graj^'s rider had reined up and slung 
 himself from saddle; and Rob's weeping eyes 
 showed him a sorry, low-headed black, covered 
 with an old India-rubber. Saddle and accoutre- 
 ments, there were none; and the eager hands that 
 tore away the rubber disclosed the hideous sore 
 back of an abandoned cavalry steed. 
 
 ^'Take the rubber, sergeant," he ordered 
 quickly. "He's your prize; and a pretty goose 
 chase we've had!" He turned in saddle, try- 
 ing to make out his column; but the curving road 
 hid them, and he added: 
 
 ''We can cut them off by that path ahead. It 
 joins the main pike near Crag-Nest. Mount, men 
 — Forward !" 
 
 "That path will bring us in the road a mile 
 ahead of 'em, sir!" the sergeant answered, re- 
 mounting. "I know the way; escaped a Yankee 
 scout there in August." 
 
 It proved he was right, for the squad emerged 
 into the empty pike; no sign of friend or foe visible, 
 though the dull tramp of moving horses came float- 
 ing over the ravines from up the road. But 
 Maury's quick ear caught another sound, coming 
 from below ; and he bent low over his pommel, list- 
 ening intently. 
 
A MORNING'S MISADVENTURES. 169 
 
 "Horses; a good party!" he said briefly. 
 "Steady! men — they must be Yanks. None of ours 
 so far down." 
 
 Carbines were unslung and ready, and the cap- 
 tain — revolver in hand and sitting lilvo a statue, 
 as the sounds of hoofs each way grew nearer and 
 more clear — saw a Federal scouting squadron ap- 
 proach at rapid trot, the early sun glinting on car- 
 bine and vizor. 
 
 "Steady, men!" he cried. "Hold your fire! 
 They &.re far out of range — and too many for us; 
 but we'll give them one volley before we break 
 for our — " 
 
 As he spoke, a single red flash shone out from 
 the front of the rapid-moving line of blue; the 
 words stilled abruptly on Maury's lips and he fell 
 back upon his horse's croup, as the bay reared 
 nearly upright, with the sudden tug upon his bit. 
 As he came down, the rider's hand relaxed; and, 
 throwing out his freed head, the horse wheeled 
 round, flying up the pike in mad run. 
 
 On sped the line of blue, their fresh horses gain- 
 ing on the flying squad; their cracking carbines 
 sending bullets whizzing by the fugitives. Closer, 
 clearer beat the hoofs behind; swifter and more 
 near whizzed the bullets, two of them striking with 
 that dull, woody thud that tells of torn flesh. 
 
 Rob Maury's spasmodic knee-grip, and his 
 heavy boots, held him in the deep saddle; but — 
 
160 CRAG-NEST. 
 
 the chase close upon them — a ball grazed the bay's 
 flank. Swerving at the smart, he slung his inert 
 rider from him, stiff and stark, and falling prone 
 at the roadside. 
 
 Ravanel — a mile away around the curve — 
 heard the firing; closing up his ranks, trotting 
 briskly but carefully toward it, his squadrons 
 drawn across the road, carbines at a ready. A 
 brief space, and rounding the curve sped on the 
 wild-flying squad; some wounded, but all panic 
 struck. Next instant the bleeding hSij dashed up, 
 nickering piteously; and the soldier's quick glance 
 showed him his prostrate comrade, two hundred 
 yards away, the blue line spurring down, close 
 upon him. 
 
 With that glance the Carolinian rose in his stir- 
 rups, swinging his sabre high, as he roared: 
 
 "Squadron! Aim, fire!" 
 
 A quick volley rang out from the front line; 
 the troops nearing rapidly, as the Federals re- 
 turned it. And again the colonel's voice — no 
 longer soft and low, but with the bugle ring in it — 
 gave the quick commands: 
 
 "Cease firing! Draw sabres! Gallop: Charge!" 
 
 Spurring ahead, he waved his sabre; and, as 
 a hundred blades flashed out and up, men let out 
 their eagerness in a wild yell, that sent a thousand 
 echoes flying through the hills. 
 
 "We'll give them the steel, sir!" Ravanel mut- 
 
A MORNING'S MISADVENTURt:S. 161 
 
 tered to the troop captain near him; then, turning 
 in saddle, again he swung his sword, his voice 
 ringing above clank and hoof: 
 
 ^^At 'em, boys! Remember Opequon! Save 
 Maury's body!" 
 
 On rushed the opposing horsemen, lessening the 
 gap with every bound; continuous flash of carbine 
 sheering the blue line; the gray firing no shot, as 
 here and there men dropped from saddle. 
 
 And now the blue had swung by Rob Maury's 
 prostrate body, shutting it from sight; the lines 
 scarce fifty yards apart, when the Federals swing 
 out, and Ravanel's face — already- flushed with ugly 
 fire of the gladiator — suddenly grows pale. Over 
 it sweeps something more fierce and fell than bat- 
 tle j)assion. The long jaws set hard, as the white 
 teeth close upon the black mustache; the right 
 hand closer grips the long, keen sabre, and the 
 spurs dig fiercer in the black's panting sides, as 
 the eyes, blazing with evil light, fall upon the 
 Federal leader. 
 
 Splendidly mounted, sturdy and compact — 
 with heavy brow and dissipated look — the blue- 
 coat rides well and recklessly to the coming fray. 
 But suddenly, his eye, too, takes in the opposing 
 commander, and a deep flush stains his ruddy face 
 an instant, leaving it deadly pale, as his hand me- 
 chanically checks his horse. It is but one in- 
 stant. The next, a black scowl knits his brow, 
 11 
 
162 CRAG-NEST. 
 
 the dogged brutality of the prize ring settling on 
 his face. 
 
 And then — the lines almost in contact — Rava- 
 nel rises in stirrups and drives full at him. 
 
 There is a hideous shock as of two angry waves 
 striking their crests. Huge dust-clouds rise and 
 hang above the rushing squadrons — crash of steel 
 and crunch of hoof; groan of man and scream of 
 wounded beast rising through — as the columns 
 strike each other. Fierce is the melee, as steel 
 hews flesh, and blow and parry and oath make Pan- 
 demonium for a while! Then the gray line is 
 forced slowly back, fighting each foot of way. 
 
 But in the press and rush, Ravanel is borne past 
 the opponent at whom he aimed; their sabres 
 clashing once as they sweep by. But the Caroli- 
 nian's is already red, and again a burly trooper 
 tumbles from his steed before it, as spurring from 
 right to left, he nerves his wavering men by voice 
 and mien. They press back the foe steadily and 
 slow; and then — by accident of battle — the leaders 
 meet again. 
 
 "Cur! I have found you!" Ravanel mutters 
 through set teeth, as swift turn of his wrist and 
 touch of the opposite spur swing the black half 
 round and the heavy Federal sabre shears down 
 past his shoulder with an ugly "whoo!" But ere 
 it is raised, his own keen point has struck the 
 other's breast, passing clean through until the hilt 
 
A MORNING'S MTSADVENTURES. 163 
 
 grates on his aguilette, and the heavy form, lurch- 
 ing from saddle, almost unseats him, as the blade 
 snaps close to hilt. 
 
 Quickly Eavanel drew his pistol, as the blue- 
 coats doggedly bore back; the black, bridleless, 
 bounding for\Yard to the spur. Suddenly a sheet 
 of flame shot close before his eyes; a deafening 
 roar, as of a shell exploding in his very face; and 
 he knew no more! 
 
 It was midnight when the Carolinian feebly 
 opened his eyes, dull and heavy from combined 
 effect of opiates and a long gashed wound across 
 his skull. For a moment he was dazed, gazing 
 dully at familiar faces of his own camp. Then 
 slowly reaction came, and he made a feeble effort 
 to rise, as he muttered: 
 
 "Did we beat them?" 
 
 "Not much," the old surgeon by his side 
 growled grimly. "We were driving them when 
 you were hit; and then our boys broke like turkeys. 
 It was a miracle that Caskie Cullen ever got you 
 from under their feet and brought you out on 
 his pommel! But you must be quiet; here, take 
 this!" 
 
 The wounded man lay apathetic, till the sur- 
 geon ceased. Then there was a red gleam in the 
 eyes he opened slowl}^, as he asked low: 
 
 "And their commander?" 
 
 "Oh! he's all right," the surgeon answered 
 
164 CRA(jI^-NE8T. 
 
 grimly.. "If your thrust had not killed him, he 
 must have been trampled to death." 
 
 And the sick man, closing his eyes once more, 
 turned his back to the speaker, muttering as 
 though to himself: 
 
 "I hicic I would find him — at last!" 
 
THE RIDE WITH SHERIDAN. ] 65 
 
 CHAPTER XIA^. 
 
 THE RIDE WITH SHERIDAN. 
 
 The surgeon's account of the skirmish was ac- 
 curate, as far as it went, but the cause of the Con- 
 federate break was not only the fall of their leader, 
 for their front line saw a heavj^ mass of infantry — 
 warned by the firing — advancing up the road at 
 double quick. This was a full brigade, forced- 
 marching toward Cedar Creek; and with one vol- 
 ley after the flying gray jackets, it reformed, 
 marching straight south. By the time its ambu- 
 lance corps reached the field, the cavalry bugle 
 had sounded the recall, and the troopers were car- 
 ing for their wounded. The Southron's sabre was 
 drawn from the body of their dead leader, and it 
 was carefully laid in an ambulance, covered with 
 an overcoat from his saddle. And just then a 
 trooper further off found Rob Maury's body, lying 
 close beneath a boulder by the roadside, wholly 
 untouched by passing hoofs. 
 
 "Gosh! The Johnny wore good boots," he 
 cried. "Guess I'll borrow 'um." 
 
 He stooped as he spoke, raising the right leg 
 roughly and tugging fiercely at the high, damp 
 boot, when suddenly, to his great surprise, the left 
 leg drew up bending at the knee. 
 
166 CRA(jt-NEIST. 
 
 "Darned ef I ever seed a corpse kick before," 
 he cried, starting back: "Fli! doctor!" he called to 
 a surgeon passing, "look at this Johnny, dead as 
 a mackerel and kickin' like a steer." 
 
 The man of science approached, leaned over the 
 prostrate Confederate and raised his hand. On 
 release, it fell back like lead, and he answered: 
 
 "That bine spot in his forehead means instant 
 death; ball must have penetrated his brain. It 
 must be the contents of your canteen that kicked, 
 Chalmers." 
 
 "Wish 'twas," the trooper answered ruefully. 
 "Hain't had no grog to-day. But, doctor, darned 
 ef he didn't kick when I nabbed his boot!" 
 
 "Death rigor supervening," the doctor an- 
 swered with a wise look, as he stooped again, 
 thrusting a rough finger into the small blue hole 
 on his subject's forehead ; but the knowing expres- 
 sion changed to a puzzled one, as he muttered: 
 
 "Hard substance; ball must have lodged in the 
 bone. He is warm, too; strange case. Here men! 
 Tumble this Rebel into that ambulance; there is 
 plenty of room." 
 
 He was promptly obeyed; and the hospital 
 corps turned back, moving slowly north. 
 
 It was late at night when Kob Maury opened 
 his eyes feebly. With great effort he raised to his 
 elbow on the rough army cot, staring around him 
 and trying to remember. That he had a splitting 
 
THE RIDE WITH SHERIDAN. 167 
 
 headache and horrible nausea, he knew ; but where 
 was he? The place seemed familiar; the shape 
 of the long, narrow ward and the high, sashed 
 sides — spite of the shattered i)anes — reminded 
 him — . Yes, it was the conservatory at Crag-Nest. 
 But how did he get there? Was Wythe Dandridge 
 near by to — . Eesistless nausea and dizziness 
 overcame him and he fell back upon the straw 
 pillow. 
 
 Shortly after, the surgeon who had first found 
 him passed down the ward, making his report to 
 the chief surgeon: 
 
 "Yes, sir. Colonel Clayton's body lies in the par- 
 lor there; the two officers are laid out in the hall; 
 the wounded men are in this ward, all except these 
 two." He paused at the very last cot, next to 
 which lay the now insensible Confederate. "This 
 is a bad case; a courier from the rear who rode in 
 here speechless. That gash in his forehead is 
 enough to finish him — singular, doctor, how many 
 head wounds there are in our arm of service; but 
 he had a pistol ball through the lungs that will 
 end him by morning, anyway. Here's another odd 
 case," he turned to Kob's cot taking up his limp 
 hand. "A Rebel officer picked up after the skirm- 
 ish with a bullet imbedded in the frontal bone. I 
 suppose he is dead by this time. Ought to have 
 died in an hour; but these Johnnies are tough." 
 
 The older soldier leaned over the wounded pris- 
 
168 CRAO-NEST. 
 
 oner, feeling the penetrated forehead; then care- 
 fully taking the pulse: 
 
 "He seems to me pretty far from a dead man, 
 doctor," he said quietly. "The ball may not have 
 penetrated; simply contused. Queer case; we can 
 examine him in the morning, and he may walk 
 about Camp Chase yet." And the pair passed 
 along the ward, forgetting the two subjects in their 
 discussion of new ones. 
 
 It was past midnight when Rob Maury again 
 opened his eyes — this time without pain — and 
 peered curiously into the dim shadows of the im- 
 provised ward, trying to recall the strange chances 
 that brought him back to the familiar spot — yet 
 so changed! He was still dizzy but felt no wound 
 or pain; only strange weakness when he sat up in 
 his cot. So, he lay quietly back, closing his eyes; 
 and rapidly memory rushed clearly back to the 
 morning's ride, his chase for the worthless horse, 
 the approach of the enemy's scout, and the numb- 
 ing blow that struck him from saddle and left all 
 after it a blank. That he was a prisoner, he feared, 
 but he could only conjecture how his capture came 
 about; whether there had been a battle, in the un- 
 known interval; if Ravanel's party had been taken, 
 too. 
 
 Long he lay dull and inert; even thought an 
 effort. Then he heard a small body of horse gallop 
 rapidly up; the challenge of the guard and call for 
 
THE RIDE WITH SHERIDAN. 169 
 
 its officer. Soon "Boots and Saddles" sounded, 
 close followed by "To Horse!" A sergeant 
 clanked down before the ward, recalling the guard, 
 and there was all the orderly haste of a sudden 
 night mount. 
 
 Eising to his elbow, Maury stared through the 
 shattered sash-work to tlie huge bonfire before the 
 house; seeing the men collect from all points, as 
 the bugle again cut the night with clear note of 
 the "Assembly," as the officers conferred in haste. 
 Then it sounded the signal, "March!" and the col- 
 umn filed away, shadowy, into the night beyond; 
 leaving only a few nurses and disabled men about 
 the fire. 
 
 The ward lay still as death; the badly hurt 
 men breathing dully under opiates, or too agonized 
 to note aught outside. But a slight movement in 
 the next cot caught Rob's ear; and in the dim light 
 he saw the wounded scout struggling to rise and 
 trying to call. Then, with labored gasps, he spoke: 
 
 "Comrade! Quick! — I'm — going — fast! For 
 God's sake dispatch^ — " 
 
 lie fell back stiff; and Rob, nerving himself, 
 slipped from his cot and leaned over the sufferer, 
 the night wind cooling his brain. And again, with 
 last effort, the scout spoke — each word a gasp: 
 
 "I'm Echols — Sheridan's scout — God's sake — 
 dispatch — jacket lining — take my horse — roan 
 Thil'— " 
 
170 CRAG-NEST. 
 
 There was a gurgle in his throat. He lay gasp- 
 ing heavily, with wide staring eyes; and Rob me- 
 chanically took the clammy hand in his. The 
 scout feebly pressed it, closing his eyes a moment. 
 Then, with great effort, he raised his head — 
 wrapped in blood-soaked bandage, and gasped out: 
 "General Wright — by day-break to — save army! 
 — ride, comrade — all up with — me — Ah!" 
 
 A gush of blood came from his lips, flooding 
 his breast, his head fell back and the jaw dropped. 
 
 Echols had died "on duty!" 
 
 Still faint and dizzy, strangely weak in legs 
 and back, the Confederate stood for a few seconds 
 as still as the dead man, whose grip still held his 
 hand. But. the chaos of thought quickly took 
 form, as the night wind braced his nerves and a 
 great emergency rose before him. Then — with 
 one cautious glance about the deserted Avard and 
 another at the chattering group about the fire — he 
 softly reached for the blue coat and breeches hang- 
 ing at the dead scout's head. 
 
 Stooping in the shadow between the cots, sore 
 of limb and again dizzy with the effort, Rob drew 
 on the clothes, reached for the dead man's boots 
 and pulled them on. The men chanced to be about 
 the same size; and the transformed Rebel, rising 
 carefully, passed his hand across the cold, dropped 
 jaw of the corpse. To his joy, he found the face 
 beardless as his own; and his nerves tingled with 
 
THE RIDE WITH SHERIDAN. 171 
 
 a tonic thrill, as his hand went to the breast of his 
 jacket and felt the dispatch crinkle and twist 
 under his touch. 
 
 What the paper might be he could not stop to 
 guess. It was from Sheridan to Wright; the dy- 
 ing words: ^'■^j daybreak — to save army!" rang 
 in his ears, and he knew Ms general must read it 
 before that hour, and then — . His weakened brain 
 throbbed in his ears at the possibility of what his 
 work might accomplish; and, taking the Federal's 
 broad felt hat, he pulled it low over his own brow. 
 Then, for the first time, Rob Maury felt the sore- 
 ness of his forehead; the puncture in the skin, that 
 thrilled down his very spine at the touch, and he 
 realized that the shot that stunned him must have 
 been spent by distance and failed to penetrate the 
 bone. 
 
 But quick moving thought did not delay him, 
 and he began to turn softly away, buckling the 
 scout's sabre as he moved between the cots. 
 
 Suddenly he paused, glanced at his own empty 
 place and turned back, muttering to himself: 
 
 "He must escape, not I." 
 
 Just then a sufferer beyond groaned piteously, 
 begging for water; and swiftly Rob stooped be- 
 tween the cots, scarce breathing, as great drops of 
 sweat broke out upon his brow. What if he should 
 fail — be recognized as a Rebel! That would mean 
 hanging, for Mosby's reprisals were on every 
 
172 CRAO-NE8T. 
 
 tongue, and he was in Federal uniform. But that 
 thought — a mere bagatelle of war's chances — was 
 swept by that of the dispatch, and his heart grew 
 cold with fear of failure — that he could not de- 
 liver it to Gordon in time. 
 
 Grasping that precious paper — that salvation 
 of Wright's army — through the thick cloth, the 
 boy lay still a few seconds, that seemed hours. 
 Then the plaintive cry for water ceased, and Rob — 
 assured that the man had fainted or died — slowly 
 drew the rough sheet from his own cot; rising to 
 his knees and bracing every muscle in his still 
 throbbing back. Softly and slow he slipped both 
 arms beneath the body of the scout, already grow- 
 ing cold and stiff in death rigor. Then with the 
 strength of desperation — braced by the grave, un- 
 known meaning of that paper — he raised the 
 corpse slowly, twisted it about, and — 
 
 Suddenly a cannon, clear but distant, sounded 
 on the night; and the gossipers about the fire arose 
 with one accord. 
 
 Motionless — great beads upon his brow, from 
 strain on brain and muscle — the boy stood breath- 
 less, holding his ghastly burthen. If one man 
 came in, all was lost! He would swing from a 
 limb; worse — Gordon would not get the dispatch! 
 
 But the men stood listening; speaking low and 
 nervously, as another distant gun boomed out. 
 And its dull echo thundered at the boy's strained 
 
THE RIDE WITH SHERIDAN. 173 
 
 sense: "The signal gun for attack! You will be 
 too late!" 
 
 With straining arms, molten lead pouring 
 down his spine and muscles of his thighs quivering 
 under their tax, he slowl}' turned the dead man; 
 laid him softly on his own cot and stretched his 
 own cramped limbs, with a deep breath of relief 
 and thankfulness. Then, as he threw the gray 
 uniform ostentatiously over his bed's head, he 
 slipped the stiff, red bandage from the dead man's 
 brow, putting it around his own. And he was the 
 old Kob Maury once more; for — spite of peril and 
 graver anxiety still to ride away — a smile curved 
 his lips, as he moved off, buckling on the sabre and 
 muttering to himself: 
 
 '^A grim masquerade; but my head's sorer than 
 his, poor devil!" 
 
 The men about the fire stared with some 
 trepidation at the tall figure that strode among 
 them, with clanking sabre and as though dropped 
 from the clouds; but the youth gave no time for 
 query. 
 
 "I'm Echols — General Sheridan's scout," he 
 said gruffly. "I'm hurt a little, but all right. 
 Some of you loafers get my horse — a roan; answers 
 to name of 'Phil.' Damn it! ]Move! I've an im- 
 portant dispatch for General Wright; and no time 
 to los'e! Hear that!" 
 
 Again the signal gun boomed out for the third 
 
174 CRAG-NEST. 
 
 interval and the Southerner's heart jumped, as 
 his trained ear caught the sound of a smoothbore. 
 It was a southern gun from Three Top Mountain! 
 
 "I'll git yer horse, comrade," a maimed trooper 
 said. ''Yer don't h>olv sort o' peart, ve'self." 
 
 And soon he came back, wrestling with the bit 
 of a huge restive roan; high-headed and great- 
 necked, and snapping viciously at his leader. 
 
 "Guess ye're too weak to ride this devil," the 
 friendly trooper said. "Yer kin git my mare, 
 comrade; but she ben't fast ez him." 
 
 "Better ride my own horse, partner," Rob an- 
 swered briefly, eying the restive steed and noting 
 holster and saddle pocket unremoved. 
 
 He approached the beast that backed, planting 
 his feet and pulling away from approach of a 
 stranger; and a cold chill ran down Rob's aching 
 back, lest detection might ensue. Mechanically 
 his left hand sought the precious dispatch in his 
 jacket; and — nerved by the thought of lost time 
 and what might depend on that paper — all his 
 horse-sense came to him. His right hand grasped 
 the bit, his left hand stroking the corded, tossing 
 neck — then slipping down and gripping the ex- 
 panded muzzle, as he cried: 
 
 "aS'o-o.^ Phil! Steady, boy! Whoa, Phil!" 
 
 Next instant he had his mouth against the 
 quivering nostrils, breathing heavily into them; 
 and the Northern trooper stared at the unknown 
 
THE RIDE WITH SHERIDAN. 175 
 
 southern trick, as the horse — whether from bold- 
 ness of the act or from confident touch — stood still 
 and docile. 
 
 "What time o' night, boys?" Kob asked as he 
 clambered stiffly to saddle and gathered the reins. 
 
 " 'Bout four; two hour ter sun," was the an- 
 swer. "Ther's ben firin' 'cross yon. Guess 
 Wright's movin' ter hit ther Johnnies by day." 
 
 ^'Shure!" put in another. ''Custer's callin' in 
 every man not bad hurt. Ther foragers wuz roun' 
 while back, an' cleaned this yere camp. Wright's 
 a-movin', sure ez shootin'!" 
 
 Kob waited for no more. Signal guns from 
 Three Top, cavalry moving in mass along Wright's 
 left at Cedar Creek, Sheridan sending dispatch 
 "to save the army" — these were spur enough to 
 his intent; and he dug the trooper's sharp ones into 
 the brute's gides. 
 
 Away across field — over the south fence — 
 through well known wood and dim cross-road, 
 sped the roan; his huge stride eating space; his 
 rider more than the Wizard tells: 
 
 " He stayed not for brake, he stopped not for stone; 
 He swam the Eske river, where ford there is none! " 
 
 But racked by the strain, Kob's head — more 
 than once in that desperate two-hour race — bent 
 low to the horse's tense neck, as he reeled in sad- 
 dle and a red mist swum before his eyes. But each 
 
176 CRAG-NEST. 
 
 time, out of that red mist rose the mysterious dis- 
 patch; and his closed eyes saw Gordon tearing it 
 open, reading eagerly — then hurling his division 
 at a run down upon Wright's flying columns. And, 
 each time, that thought straightened him up in 
 his seat and the spurs went home again, as his 
 hand clutched the paper and a thrill, as of strong 
 cordial, ran through his veins. But time seemed 
 dragging snail-like, though the cool wind whis- 
 tled by his ears, and he knew his detour would 
 bring him to the Valley pike, nearer to his goal by 
 many miles. 
 
 Then softly the solemn mandate that crowned 
 the Creation had repetition — too familiar to the 
 eye from all time to still the soul in wondering 
 awe. Along the eastern ridges showed pale gleam 
 of gray, brightening and broadening, until The 
 Voice whispered to their crests — "Let there be 
 light!" 
 
 The sun had barely given the Massanutten 
 peaks their first gilding when the roan's flying 
 hoofs struck the Valley pike, his nearly exhausted 
 rider still driving spur cruelly home. For plainer 
 to his ear came the dull boom of cannon; signal 
 guns no longer, but in continuous roar of heavy 
 battle. 
 
 AVho had struck? Who was stricken? Brac- 
 ing himself in saddle, he pulled the dispatch from 
 his breast, tore it open and read rapidly. 
 
THE HIDE WITH SHERIDAN. 177 
 
 The glow came back to his cheek; the flame 
 to his eye, as he rose in stirrups, waving Sheridan's 
 dispatch aloft, on that lonely road. For it told 
 that the general was far off; that he would reach 
 Wright before Longstreet could combine with 
 Early; and it ordered him to hold Cedar Creek to 
 the last man! 
 
 Now, or never! Gordon had the advance; he 
 could be reached soonest. Gordon must have that 
 paper as fast as hoofs e'er foaled could bear it. 
 Knowing Sheridan's plan — but more than all, his 
 absence — the Gray could strike the Blue a blow 
 that yet might sweep him from the Valley! And 
 Eob again gored the roan's flanks, bending over his 
 neck to urge by voice and hand. Then suddenly 
 he turned his ear, listening intently; for over the 
 boom of cannon and crackle of musketry, now 
 plainly heard, the man's scouting instinct caught 
 hoof beats ahead, rapid and regular, but going 
 from him. Half checking his horse, the now worn 
 rider still smiled to himself, as he glanced at his 
 blue uniform; and again he loosed the roan's head 
 and drove the spurs home. 
 
 A turn of the road, and straight before him 
 sped a rider on a great black horse, foam-flecked 
 and racing as though for life or death. 
 
 With eyes riveted on him, Rob noted the man 
 was short, stout and strong, blue-clad and with 
 some rank marks, and riding as though a Centaur. 
 
 12 
 
CRAG- NEST. 
 
 And, as he took this in, the other turned, gave one 
 sharp look, then beckoned him on, as though recog- 
 nized — ^yet never slackening speed. 
 
 Thought — lightning-like in peril — told him 
 there was but one road for him; on — ever on, with- 
 out stop or stay — until Gordon held that dispatch. 
 So, still spurring on, his right hand went out to 
 the saddle holster for the pistol there. 
 
 The holster was empty! 
 
 But, ere he could utter the oath upon his lips — 
 over the crest ahead poured angry waves of man 
 and horse and cannon; all in one mad rush rear- 
 ward — panic-struck, intermingled and rushing 
 back resistless! And this on-surging wave — 
 sweeping the road from side to side — tumbling 
 over itself as storm-lashed foam — drew nearer 
 every second. 
 
 Checking his black, the rider ahead again 
 waved quick command to Kob, shouting some 
 word unheard through the roar of panic borne 
 on the wind. Then, touching the spur, he 
 jumped the narrow canon to the left and still rode 
 onward through the heavy fields. And Rob — the 
 surging mass of fugitives close upon him — gripped 
 the roan closer and took the leap, behind him. 
 
 And both sped through mud and ditch and fur- 
 row, the roan closing on the black, as his rider 
 watched with bated breath for the woods-road 
 near and to the right. 
 
THE RIDE WITH SHERIDAN. 179 
 
 But now the foremost horseman slackened 
 speed — bending low to saddle, as listening for dis- 
 tant guns — the roan overlapped him. 
 
 "Halt! Who are you? Where going?" 
 
 The quick words came in deep, commandful 
 roar, the speaker turning a full, bronzed face, 
 heavy-jawed and garnished with long, red-brown 
 mustache. And Rob, checking the roan, felt he 
 knew that face somehow — somewhere — as he an- 
 swered : 
 
 "Courier, sir, from " 
 
 "From Colonel Edwards, at Winchester. Um ! 
 he told me. Ah! You're hit? Much hurt? 
 Never mind that. D — n it, you must ride! Keep 
 on to right. I'll find Torbert and rally these tur- 
 keys. You must find General Wright, or Crook! 
 Eide for your life, man! Tell them / am here!" 
 
 "Tell them—?" 
 
 "D— n it! are you deaf! Off with you! Tell 
 them — tell everybody — Phil Sheridan has come!" 
 
 Still speaking, he spurred to left, 'cross-fur- 
 rows, Rob Maury sitting stunned one instant. 
 Again his hand went to the empty holster; checked 
 midway by that fervid oath, before unuttered. 
 
 He had been riding a mile behind Philip Sher- 
 idan; had taken orders from his lips; was still in 
 touching distance and — he had no weapon! 
 
 Then quick revulsion came. The dispatch 
 might not be vital now, but the news would be 
 
180 CRAG-NE8T. 
 
 grave indeed, that Sheridan was bacl^;, rallying the 
 rout! 
 
 Again the spur! Again the wild and scarce 
 broken rush; the road above blue with flying 
 Federals, the boom of cannon at the front louder, 
 but less frequent, with every bound. Then came 
 a lull; the mass of fugitives seemed past, while 
 to the left, as far as the eye could reach, the reel- 
 ing columns halted, cheered and formed, as the 
 great black steed flashed by them — its rider wav- 
 ing his cap! 
 
 Straight to right the roan flies, crossing the 
 pike. Close before him lies Cedar Creek, its 
 southern bank gray with rank on rank at swing- 
 ing run; and the curdling "Rebel yell" cheers him 
 like wine! Into the stream, through it, plunges 
 the roan — clambering up the bank, his now ex- 
 hausted rider clinging to his mane. Then on 
 again, straight for the lines of the gray; that blue- 
 clad rider waving wildly the white cloth stained 
 with Echols' blood. 
 
 Hands seize the reins, bayonets bristle at his 
 face; but careless of them, dizzy, faint, he pants: 
 
 "Take me to the general! — Great news! — 
 Quick!" 
 
 They lead him to a little knoll, where grouped 
 officers sit in serious council; the central horse- 
 man tall, lank and grim. His keen, gray eyes 
 seem to pierce the deserter, as he pushes the damp. 
 
THE RIDE WITH SHERIDAN. 181 
 
 dark hair back from a great, bold forehead; and 
 the full, stern lips show beneath the gray-streaked 
 mustache and stiff, long beard. 
 
 "General, a Yankee deserter! He claims to 
 have news." 
 
 "I have, sir;" Rob breaks in feeblj^ "General 
 Sheridan is in — " 
 
 "You're late, fellow!" the stern lips reply 
 gruflfly. "We knew yesterday he is in Washing- 
 ton—" 
 
 "No, sir! On this field — just ridden to his left 
 for Torbert to rally the — " 
 
 "Who are you?" roars the Confederate Com- 
 mander of the Valley, with many a bounding oath. 
 
 "How do I know you are not a liar, you 
 
 traitor to your own — " 
 
 Reeling in saddle, the other straightens up to 
 salute and answers: 
 
 "I am Captain Maury, adjutant-general of Cal- 
 vert's brigade, sir! Escaped from Yankee hos- 
 pital last night; rode miles with Sheridan — this 
 horse his scout's — spoke with him — have his mes- 
 sage for — Wright — or " 
 
 An officer caught him as he fell frcm the roan; 
 the general, gathering his own horse as he roared: 
 
 "Sheridan back! the old rat! he has walked 
 
 into the trap, by !* General, double 
 
 quick your division and form on Kershaw's right! 
 
 * Fact. Early's words on learning Sheridan's return. 
 
182 CRAO-NE8T. 
 
 Harrison, gallop to front and sound the recall 
 
 along the whole line! Look to the boy! D 
 
 it! he's Avorth a regiment of scouts! Major, ask 
 General Gordon to hurry all his artillery to the 
 right! Forward, gentlemen! This time, we will 
 crush Sheridan !" 
 
'a RICHMOND "STARVATION'S'' RESULTS. 183 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 A RICHMOND " STARVATION'S "' RESULTS. 
 
 "Yes, Cousin Wirt, Coulter Brooke's to have a 
 'starvation' on Friday, and you are specially in- 
 vited, if you cauH walk a polonaise with a grander 
 lady than the Russian Crown Princess!" 
 
 And Miss Wythe Dandridge gave the mistress 
 of Crag-Nest a resounding kiss, and just touched 
 her lips to Colonel Calvert's mustache, as she sat 
 by his wheel-chair at the officers' hospital. 
 
 The veteran looked all himself again; rosy, 
 fresh and only lacking battle-tan. The gray mus- 
 tache — longer than ever, but more carefully 
 tended — swept healthy and smooth-shaven cheeks, 
 and the deep eyes danced under shadow of the 
 bushy white brows, with kindly merriment, as he 
 answered : 
 
 "I kiss Miss Coulter's dainty hand, Miss Dan- 
 dridge. But we are not so sure about that polon- 
 aise; eh. Cousin Virginia? This old thigh of mine 
 must be all right right now; and I'll try a few 
 steps with Doctor Carter, when he makes his next 
 round." 
 
 "You well know, Cousin Wirt, how I would 
 rejoice, were you able to dance," Mrs. Courtenay 
 
184 CRAG-NEST. 
 
 answered with a grave smile; sighing softly as she 
 added, ^'or to ride again." 
 
 "I'll be a new man by the»time muddy roads 
 permit a spring campaign!" he laughed back. "I 
 told you all, at Crag-Nest, that I was as good as 
 two dead men. Zounds! I'll be better than two 
 old ones, thanks to devotion of my three sweet 
 nurses. Do you know, my cousins," — his face grew 
 graver and his eyes softened, — ''I have not laid 
 my head on that pillow one night since, without 
 grateful memory of Yal's wonderful constancy 
 and nerve; and of your brave, dashing ride, you 
 saucy little beauty. Ah! Cousiu Mrginia, God 
 never made grander women than those with whom 
 He blessed our state!" 
 
 ''Nor grander men, my kinsman," the old lady 
 replied softly. ''Wythe, have you inquired for 
 
 & 
 
 ^?" 
 
 Major Ravanel this mornin 
 
 "Yes; the matron tells me he is much the same," 
 the girl answered gravely. "He sleeps more; but, 
 when he wakes, the fever rises and he talks con- 
 stantly. The lady in black never leaves him now, 
 day or night. I wonder who she is !" 
 
 "A relative, of course," Mrs. Courtenay replied 
 somewhat stiffly. "I can not tell why her face 
 seems familiar, for I am sure we never met, and 
 she treated me as a perfect stranger when she 
 came to the hospital." 
 
 "She's gentle and good to him as his own 
 
^'V^-^ 
 
 A RICHMOND "STARVATION'S" RESULTS. 185 
 
 mother could be," the girl answered. "What a 
 sad chance her illness is, to separate such a mother 
 and son!" 
 
 "He will come out all right," Colonel Calvert 
 said cheerily, "These wiry fellows, with calm 
 nerves and iron will, are hard to kill. Zounds! 
 cousin, you never would recognize Ravanel in the 
 reckless devil that charged down at Opequon, scat- 
 tering the Yankees right and left — literally hew- 
 ing out a path for me. Yet he was cool as in 
 your drawing room; recollecting every cow-path 
 through those woods. But for him, I had never 
 troubled you dear ladies all these months! But — 
 allons! This is 'piping time of peace,' thanks to 
 the mud. We will forget our stern alarums and 
 dreadful marches for merry meetings and delight- 
 ful measures." 
 
 Truly, as he said, another winter siesta had 
 come, enforced by winter rigor that made roads 
 everywhere impassable for artillerj^, wagon-trains 
 and aught else but raiding cavalry. So the hostile 
 lines — close enough to each other for pickets to 
 "chaff"; close enough for dwellers in the cities to 
 hear their desultory firing — were able to attempt 
 no formidable movement. Lee's sleepless vigi- 
 lance—well seconded by that of his generals — 
 foiled graver intent of the raiders at all points; and 
 Early — sore from his late defeat, yet ever watch- 
 ful and tenacious as a mastiff — was watching 
 
186 CBAG-NEST. 
 
 Slieridan's repeated efforts at surprise, in surly 
 calm, from his winter quarters near Waynesboro. 
 
 Meanwhile, Richmond was strangely gay, after 
 its own peculiar fashion. Many officers crowded 
 the capital on duty, or leave; and the younger of 
 these— tired and worn from camp — were equally 
 famished for female society and for gaiety and 
 fun of every sort. And the Richmond girls — ever 
 ready to aid and comfort their soldier boys with 
 needle, bandage, lint and equally-prized words of 
 cheer — now seemed quite as ready to aid their 
 plans for mutual pleasure. 
 
 In common with their graver elders, these 
 young people realized that the strain was remitted 
 for the moment; possibly they recked that it 
 would renew to-morrow, for the final crush. Yet 
 they seemed content to enjoy the day with all the 
 recklessness of long restraint. Dances were of al- 
 most nightly occurrence; not those generously bril- 
 liant assemblies which had erst crowned Rich- 
 mond "queen of hospitality," but joyous gather- 
 ings of young people, who danced as though the 
 music of shells had never drowned that of the 
 chance negro fiddler — who laughed and flirted as 
 though there were no to-morrow, with its certain 
 skirmish and its possible blanket for winding- 
 sheet. Many a gallant youth had ridden direct 
 from dance to picket line; ere next noon, to jolt 
 into town on a country cart, stiff and stark — a bul- 
 
A RICHMOND ''STARVATION'S" RESULTS. 187 
 
 let through his heart. For the soldier boys were 
 not only those on leave; the lines close to the city 
 holding many willing to do ten miles each way on 
 horseback, through snow and slush, for one waltz 
 with "somebody's darling." 
 
 These "starvations," as their name implied, en- 
 tailed no waste of supplies, vital alike to soldier 
 and civilian; for a law infrangible as the Me- 
 dan's limited all refreshments to ample supply of 
 "Jeems' River" water. Music was furnished some- 
 times by ancient negro minstrels, more often by 
 dainty fingers of some clieerj^ matron; always by 
 soft voice or merry laugh of "ladyes fayre," for 
 whom each knight was ready to do — or to die! 
 
 The more saturnine, and the more hopeless, 
 turned eyes ascant, and elevated horrified hands, 
 at these "starvations;" but, as Kob Maury had 
 written to his cousin: "As we fellows do the get- 
 ting killed, I don't see why the old goodies object 
 to our dancing in the intervals of the killing; and 
 I'm coming down to Coulter Brooke's german sure, 
 unless old Early sends for me for special consul- 
 tation." 
 
 But this winter's siesta was widely different 
 from that first one, when the mistress of Crag-Nest 
 had welcomed the — th Cavalry; its rest being fit- 
 ful — fevered with the hectic of long strain — star- 
 tled by spectres of foreboding that would not 
 down for the bidding. For war, if making all 
 
188 CRAO-NEST. 
 
 philosophers, does not change all to Stoics; and 
 there were those who seemed to feel the full 
 weight of the situation; and to look beyond, with 
 no bright vistas intervening. 
 
 Val Courtenay was one of these. The girl had 
 grown strangely grave and sad; no flashes of her 
 saucy merriment now answering Wythe's sallies; 
 and when the latter had once exclaimed that she- 
 found a single gray strand in her cousin's black 
 hair, the latter had only smiled gravely and an- 
 swered : 
 
 ''What matter, Wythe? The only wonder is 
 that more of us are not gray." 
 
 But her old-time sweetness and force of char- 
 acter had nowise changed; and Val went about 
 her daily duties — and she made them numerous 
 and all-engrossing — as tried member of that tire- 
 less band of veritable Sisters of Mercy, who 
 soothed the pillow of suffering and strengthened 
 the feet that trod the Valley of the Shadow of 
 Death. 
 
 While needful, she had watched ceaselessly by 
 the bedside of the soldier she had saved; and still 
 showed devotion to that task in his rapid recuper- 
 ation, while she broadened her work by visitations 
 to Chimborazo and other hospitals. 
 
 One crisp November noon, as the girl was leav- 
 ing the officers' hospital on one of her charitable 
 missions, an ambulance drove slowly up; and in 
 
A RICHMOND ''STARVATION'S'' RESULTS. 189 
 
 the wrecked form of the sufferer from ghastly 
 camp-fever, she recognized Fraser Ravanel. Stub- 
 born in his ideas of duty — and seeming possessed 
 of morbid dread of being sent to Eichmond — the 
 young colonel had ignored the surgeon's orders; 
 had gone on duty with his wound still unhealed, 
 overexerting his failing strength in the weeks of 
 sleepless anxiety succeeding Cedar Creek. At 
 last, mind ceased longer to coerce matter; seeds 
 of fever sowed in the overworked system stretched 
 him on a bed of illness, that should have been 
 grave warning. But still Ravanel resisted; scoff- 
 ing at sick furlough and dragging himself back to 
 duty while yet unfit. Resulting relapse gravely 
 periled a life too valuable to lose; and his general 
 sent him to Richmond, while still in mid-delirium 
 of fever. So it was but the wreck of the man she 
 had said she loved three years before — whom, in 
 all that interval, she had struggled to convince 
 herself had ceased to be aught to her — that Val 
 saw lifted from the van. 
 
 Not one of the women w^ho waste usefulness in 
 hesitance, she made up her mind at once; and — her 
 face deadly pale, but quiet and resolved — she 
 sought the matron and told her an officer she knew 
 seemed desperately ill; that, if she could be of use, 
 she would assist in nursing him. From that time, 
 large portion of each day was spent beside the 
 fever patient's cot; and, ever striving with all her 
 
190 CRAG-NEST. 
 
 soul and honor not to listen, could not prevent dis- 
 jointed expressions from the fevered brain reach- 
 ing her ears. Nor could all strength of will she 
 summoned keep the blood from surging to her 
 brain — or still the flutter of the heart she deemed 
 so fully schooled — when softer tones murmured of 
 other days, and spoke her own name through them 
 all. But one day, moving softly to her post — a 
 strange calm on her face, reflecting strange peace 
 in her heart — she stood transfixed; her feet rooted 
 to the floor and her heart stilled. 
 
 Kneeling by her patient's bed was the lissome 
 form of a woman, clad in black; her arms thrown 
 about the sufferer's neck, and her soft voice call- 
 ing his name in that one universal tone, lent by 
 love alone! For one brief second Val looked. The 
 next she turned gravely away, moving toward the 
 door, with head erect, but with that hope which, 
 unwarned, she had let grow full-statured in her 
 heart, lying prostrate there, corpse-like. 
 
 No word of this she breathed to aunt or cousin; 
 meeting their comments on the beautiful and de- 
 voted stranger with calm, if unmeaning, answers; 
 and she even went sometimes to Eavanel's bedside 
 — always in the strange woman's rare absences — 
 explaining quietly to the matron that demands of 
 her sick at Chimborazo kept her away. And, in 
 truth, she was now a tireless nurse; going early 
 and late, until the colonel warned and her aunt 
 
A RICHMOND "STARVATION'S" RESULTS. 191 
 
 chided, lest she wear out her strength. But a 
 grave, sad smile was ever her answer to them and 
 to AVythe's loving petulance — that she "never did 
 see such a girl! We might as w^ell be strangers, 
 for all I see of you!" 
 
 But through that long week there ever rose in 
 Val Courtenay's mind one query; why her cousin 
 was so gently sympathetic, but so little grieved 
 or anxious, at Ravanel's condition. Spite of will, 
 she constantly asked herself if she could have 
 been mistaken; if Wythe had really cared nothing 
 for the handsome Carolinian, when she cast Hob 
 Maury off so strangely. But ever, after such quer- 
 ies, would follow fierce self-contempt, and angry 
 avowal that she was prying into what did not 
 concern, and had been studiously kept from, 
 her. 
 
 But one night, coming in later than usual, and 
 wearied, brain and body with her good work, she 
 found Wythe sitting before the fire, in night ap- 
 parel, embracing her knees and resting her fair 
 head upon them. 
 
 "Val Courtenay! You're just the greatest 
 goose of a girl I ever saw!" Miss Dandridge ex- 
 claimed, rising and extending first one little cro- 
 cheted slipper, and then the other, to the blaze — 
 "wearing yourself to skin and bone and getting 
 crow's feet and gray hairs — for 'duty!' I'm sure 
 you owe some duty to yourself, if not to those who 
 
192 CRAG-NEST. 
 
 love you! But, you're the dearest old Val, just 
 the same!" 
 
 And suddenly — as in their old room at Crag- 
 Nest, after their first quarrel — the younger girl 
 threw her arms about her friend; and, as then, the 
 soft, fair hair was i)ressed against her bosom. 
 And, as then, again the look of love ineffable — but 
 with more of sadness and maternal tenderness in 
 it — as the tall head bent down once more and the 
 quivering lips pressed soft upon it. 
 
 "I tell you, Val," Wythe exclaimed a little later, 
 swinging the little slippers nervously as she sat on 
 the bedside, while her companion disrobed, "so 
 much has happened at the hospital to-day. Col- 
 onel BavanePs fever left him; and, Yal, he's just 
 as sane as you are! Doctor Carter let him see 
 Cousin Wirt a moment, and Cousin Virginia and I 
 wheeled him in. They would not let him talk; but 
 he's such a prig for courtesy, he would introduce 
 his sister — " 
 
 Val Tvheeled round upon the speaker, her 
 raised hands holding the masses of black hair that 
 shadowed a face ghastly pale, and the white lips 
 moved soundless as they formed the two words 
 in repetition. 
 
 "Yes, she'd been across the lines; business or 
 something. She's so like him; gentle and soft- 
 voiced and says 'ma^ just like him." 
 
 The other woman still stood staring, the motion- 
 
A RICHMOyD "STAMVATION'ii" REtiULTS. 193 
 
 less hands not taken from her hair, but the color 
 coming slowly back to her cheek and lip, as she 
 forced herself to say: 
 
 '^Sister! Why, he told ns he was an only 
 child!" 
 
 ''He never told mc so," Wythe answered saucily, 
 ''lie never told me anything, except commonplace 
 and tactics. But he is a perfect gentleman, Val; 
 so quietly grateful for kindness, or courtesy. Why, 
 that night of their ball — he is a lovely dancer, 
 though! — he took the time any of our boys would 
 have used for flirtation, making me promise not 
 to let our household forget him! Now isn't he a 
 prig?" 
 
 The long, nervous hands supporting Val's hair 
 fell before her in soft clasp; the color deepening 
 on neck and bust and arms. For to her sight rose 
 the loved old hall at Crag-Nest, with its antlered 
 rack; a man and a woman contending for a sword 
 beneath it; and accusing conscience scoffed bit- 
 terly at her mis judgment, as the man's voice de- 
 clared that he had perfect faith that Wythe would 
 not forget her pledge. 
 
 "And Yal, dear, you must get home earlier for 
 to-morrow's 'starvation.' That's why I sent Cap- 
 tain Caskie Cullen off when he brought me from 
 the hospital; and Coulter was sound, as I ran in to 
 kiss her good-night! And Cousin Wirt had — " 
 The crocheted slippers swung nervously and, for 
 
 13 
 
194 CRAG-NE8T. 
 
 some occult reason, the glowing cheek took on a 
 deeper glow, as she stopped abruptly. 
 
 "Well, dear, what did Cousin Wirt have, to 
 make an old girl like me go to the dance?" 
 
 Val Courtenay was herself once more, but her 
 voice was as soft as the flush on her cheek and the 
 light in her great, dark eyes. 
 
 "Oh! nothing he had — yes; he had a letter say- 
 ing your — that the general would arrive in the 
 morning, and that — I believe Captain Maury will 
 be with him!" 
 
 "I had a letter from him, too," Val answered 
 quietly. "Dear old Eob! How glad I shall be! 
 You know, Wythe, none of us have seen him since 
 that grand ride, that set the whole Valley shout- 
 ing his j)raises!" 
 
 "It Kaa a brave ride," the other answered 
 dreamily, staring at her slippers. 
 
 "But why should that take me to 'starvation,' 
 Wythe? Rob would rather dance with the 
 younger girls; you, for instance. He is my pet 
 cousin, but" — the rare old-time smile came to her 
 lips — "as I believe I told you once before, I'm old 
 enough to be his — -aunt!" 
 
 "And you told liim so — that night!" Wythe 
 had slipped from the bedside, standing before her 
 cousin, the blue eyes full on the black ones. 
 
 "What night, dear?" The black eyes widened 
 a little, in wonder at the tone. 
 
A RICHMOND " STARVATION S" RESULTS. 195 
 
 "That night when he — when you — the night 
 that Major Ravanel and I — " Again Wythe 
 paused abruptly, but Avithout a blush. 
 
 "Became such good friends that you would 
 dance with scarcely anyone else?" the elder fin- 
 ished for her. 
 
 "He danced with you first!" Wythe retorted. 
 
 "Only one little turn, dear." YaFs face soft- 
 ened and the light in her eyes grew tender at mem- 
 ory of another night; a night under this very roof, 
 when she had heard his pledge to dance with no 
 woman more, until they met; when she had spoken 
 words her lips might unsay, but her heart — never! 
 
 "And then you went off with liini — with Cap- 
 tain Maury; and I heard — " 
 
 "Heard what, little sister?" The wonder in 
 Val's face conquered reminiscence, as she spoke. 
 
 "Of course, it was chance, Val! I know you'd 
 never think me mean enough to listen! I never 
 mentioned it before, because — oh! Yal, you liiow I 
 didn't!" And ]\[iss Dandridge, illogical as her sex 
 ever, burst into tears. 
 
 "You dear little mystery! Come to your ma!" 
 Yal laughed; but a burning flush dyed face and 
 bosom — tinting even the long, graceful arms that 
 clasped her cousin — as she heard her own voice 
 form that last word. But she finished bravely: 
 "Now tell your sister M^hat is the matter?" 
 
 "It was only chance!" Wythe sobbed. "We 
 
196 CRAG-NE8T. 
 
 had no idea — Captain Ravanel and I — when we 
 went into the conservatory — that you and Rob^ — 
 that we'd over — hear you — you refuse him!" 
 
 A light broke over the broad brow, bowed 
 above the fair head — the rosy dawn of an idea. 
 Then that light broadened and rippled over the 
 flushed face; and Yal Courtenay — releasing the 
 soft, plump burthen from her arms — threw herself 
 upon the bed, buried her face in the pillow, and 
 shook with overmastering emotion. 
 
 Wythe stared a moment, her small grief stilled 
 in presence of a burst such as she had never seen 
 Yal yield to. Then the plump, white hand touched 
 the soft, heaving shoulder, and she cried plaint- 
 ively : 
 
 "Oh! Yal, don't! Please, />/msfi don't! I didn't 
 mean, dear — I couldn't help it; and I don't care 
 anything — much, for him — now!'' 
 
 Moments passed before the sloping shoulders 
 stilled and the clinched hands released that pil- 
 low. Then Yal, after what seemed a great strug- 
 gle, controlled herself sufliciently to rise. Even 
 then, as she turned her hot face upon her compan- 
 ion's wondering one, a strange spasm crossed it 
 and Yal's hands pressed hard, commandful on her 
 heaving bosom. But, calming herself, she said with 
 a solemnity that to Wythe seemed truly awful: 
 
 "So i/ON heard me reject — Rob Maury! Wythe, 
 such confidence must be — " she paused; the 
 
A nrCHMOND ''STARVATION'S''' RESULTS. 197 
 
 strange spasm again distorting her face — "sacred! 
 God bless you, dear — dearest little girl! Never 
 recur to this — until I give you permission. Good- 
 night, you sweet little goo — !" 
 
 She broke off, clasped the bewildered Miss Dan- 
 dridge in tighter hug, and sprung into bed. And 
 Wythe, lying wakeful in the darkness, was sure 
 she felt the soft form by her once more shaking 
 with emotion. 
 
 The next was a busy day, indeed, for all the 
 Brooke household. The general arrived for early 
 breakfast; rotund, jovial and ruddy bearded as of 
 yore, but none the worse for a recent serious 
 wound. With him came Rob Maury — the house- 
 hold hero now, but refusing to be lionized, even 
 when the general told the table that he had ap- 
 plied for Major Maury as member of his staff. 
 
 But Val managed to slip away alone by noon; 
 and when the whole party called on Colonel Cal- 
 vert and Ravanel, she had just left the hospital. 
 
 Dinner was over and house-clearing for "star- 
 vation" done when the girl returned; quiet and 
 with the seal of some great joy upon her face. 
 Wythe sat alone on the wide old settee in the hall- 
 way, pretending to read; and laughter floated 
 from the open door of the pantry near, where Coul- 
 ter Brooke and Rob Maury waged battle royal 
 over a captured pie. 
 
 "I'm so glad you've come, Yal!" Wythe cried, 
 
198 CRAG -NEST. 
 
 with a petulant toss of the book. "It's awfully 
 lonely— since the general rode away!" 
 
 The other girl sat down, taking the restless lit- 
 tle hand in hers; but the knowing smile that just 
 moved her lips left them, as she said gravely: 
 
 "I've plenty to tell, dear. To begin, I have 
 seen his — Colonel liavanel's sister. We met in 
 the matron's room, and she stopped to thank us 
 all for the little we had done for him. Somehow 
 we became sympathetic; and I know her story. 
 Oh! Wythe, she is a brave, true woman, worthy 
 of her race; but she has suffered as few have, for a 
 hasty marriage, against all opposition. Her 
 mother was relentless, disowned her utterly; for- 
 bade all mention of her name — -even erasing it 
 from the Bible. The husband was worse than any 
 feared; drunken, dishonest, cruel! Finally, he 
 deserted her in Washington and joined the Yan- 
 kees — three years ago; while I was in this house; 
 and then Colonel Eavanel sent for, and cared ten- 
 derly for her since. After Cedar Creek, she heard 
 of the traitor's death; and she rejoices that her 
 brother — whose high pride of name she knows — 
 never met him after his flight!" 
 
 "How dreadful!" Wythe exclaimed. "Val, do 
 you know I think it terribly dangerous for any 
 girl to marry!" 
 
 "I am afraid it is, some — " the other began; 
 but the battle of the pie surged out of the pantry. 
 
A RICHMOND "STARVATION'S" RESULTS. 199 
 
 veering toward them ; and then Coulter Brooke fled 
 up the stairs, leaving the new major master of the 
 sticky spoils. 
 
 "Hello! Cousin Val! I captured the commis- 
 sary stores! Have a bite?" 
 
 He advanced flushed and breathless; but Wythe 
 rose stiflly and stepped into the wide-swung door 
 of the pantry. 
 
 "Sit here, you great boy!" Val answered. "I 
 want to borrow your memory a moment." 
 
 "All right; but I won't lend you my pie!" he 
 answered, describing a great arc in it with strong 
 teeth. "Now, commence firing!" 
 
 "Rob, you remember the ball we gave to the 
 regiment? Well, when you and I went into the 
 conservatory, and you were raging about Captain 
 Ravanel's devotion to — " His mouth was too full 
 for speech; but the youth's eyes rolled in piteous 
 entreaty toward the pantry door. Still Val went 
 on, even raising her voice — "to our pretty little 
 cousin, I told you love was a delusion; that I knew, 
 for I was old enough to be your — aunt!" 
 
 "Val! for heaven's sake — " With a huge ef- 
 fort and a huger swallow, Rob got out the hoarse 
 whisper, his juice*stained hand pointing to the 
 pantry door, as he rose to his feet. But Val — 
 blind as deaf to all entreaty — went on, loud and 
 relentless: 
 
 "But, Rob, none of us know anything about 
 
200 CRAG-NEST. 
 
 it. You were wiser tlien — and ever since — in tell- 
 ing me how well you loved — dear little Wythe!" 
 
 She, too, rose to her feet; premonitory rustle of 
 impending flight coming through the door, as she 
 placed both firm hands upon the boy's shoulders, 
 and added rapidly: 
 
 "Later, in my folly, I said: 'Better one fool 
 than two!' Rob, / was the fool, then!" 
 
 With sudden movement, she pushed the sur- 
 prised warrior back into the [>antry; and, before 
 she could reach the stair's head, the wild wail 
 floated up to her: 
 
 "Oh, Rob! Of course I do. Don't! You've 
 stained my — 'starvation' dress!" 
 
 But the bright smile it brought to her lips 
 faded from her face before the tender glow of light 
 from within, as Val Courtenay pressed her fore- 
 head against the cool pane, and gazed through the 
 fast-coming dusk at the distant hospital. 
 
 Then she seated herself at the escritoire, writ- 
 ing rapidly and with firm hand: 
 
 "Full confession of fault humiliates only false 
 pride. To iliai, penance; to true regret, it is best 
 solace. In your fever, frequent words made me 
 pity you much — myself far more. Since I met 
 your sister, my sin against you — equally against 
 myself— stands bare before me. If you can for- 
 give it, God will be merciful! And He knows how 
 truly I would expiate it, by lifetime duty to that 
 
A RICHMOJSD '' STARVATION'S'' RESULTS. 201 
 
 truth I misjudged so blindly. Contrite for the 
 past — with no false pride for the present — I write 
 what I once bade you call me, 
 
 "Always yours, 
 
 "Valerie." 
 
 Never reading the words, she slipped them in 
 an envelope, sealed and addressed it: "Colonel 
 Fraser Ravanel, Officers' Hospital." 
 
 Then she bent her face long upon the white 
 hands, lifting her soul in meekness toward the 
 Throne's foot. And, when she raised it, the last 
 ray of the winter sunset struggled through the 
 shadows and touched her forehead! 
 
202 CRAG-NSST. 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 THE TORCH AT CRAG-NES'. 
 
 The soft, warm afterglow of September dusk 
 fell upon the broad piazza, wrapping in its rosy 
 gray the occupants of two ample straw rocking- 
 chairs; but the last, lingering kiss of the day god 
 still flushed the far crest of old Massanutten, as 
 waiting the stealthy creep of Diana to steal it 
 from that hoary, three-headed custodian. 
 
 "That new coat of paint warms up, even in this 
 light. Cousin Wirt. Indeed, the home looks al- 
 most like the old days once more." 
 
 The speaker sighed softly, as the long, white 
 hands fell gently to rest in her moire antique lap ; 
 though the sound was not of sorrow, but of full 
 contentment, and her slim slippers crossed in 
 stately comfort, as she added: 
 
 "But you are always so thoughtful and so — 
 generous. Pardon me, kinsman, but I fear none 
 of us can well afford luxuries in these days." 
 
 "Luxuries! Cousin Virginia, Mon cllcu! fresh 
 paint is a necessity. And besides, this is not my 
 doing, but Ezekiel's. I only furnished the paint; 
 he gave the talent. You remember the day we last 
 rode away from the dear old place, I told Ziek 
 
THE TORCH AT CRAG-NEST. 20;J 
 
 that be was a i^erfect gentleman, for all his black 
 skin? Now he looms up as an eminent artist. 
 Zounds! I have seen great paintings in the Paris 
 galleries that gave me less satisfaction as works 
 of art. 1 was saying so to the general this after- 
 noon!" 
 
 A little pause, punctuated by a half sigh. Then 
 the lady said: 
 
 "He told me so. He, too, is ever thoughtful. 
 Cousin, in all my years I have never met such a 
 young man!" 
 
 "You are right, as ever. Cousin Virginia," came 
 the hearty response. ''But for him, you dear 
 women would now be plaiting wreaths for my mod- 
 est mound, somewhere yonder. Zounds! I remem- 
 ber, as though but yesterday, the ping of that Win- 
 chester that tumbled me out of saddle. Your gen- 
 tle tending — and the girls'— brought me back to 
 life, kinswoman; but he brought me to you!" 
 
 "But for him, none of us might be here now," 
 Mrs. Courtenay answered, somewhat dreamily, as 
 the calm eyes peered rather into reminiscence than 
 the dusk beyond. "Ah! kinsman, those were try- 
 ing days; but with you and the dear children under 
 the roof again, I can forget them — almost." 
 
 "Entirely, if you can," he broke in. "When 
 Mars' Robert gave his sword to Grant, six months 
 ago, the v/ar ended for me. 1 am still a trifle un- 
 reconstructed, perhaps, but I strive to look ahead 
 
204 CRAG-NEST. 
 
 and not behind me. There is other work in life 
 than fighting; and, zounds! the men of Virginia 
 have plenty of it to do — and her noble women, too! 
 Void! Crag-Nest looks like a bride herself; and to- 
 morrow — " 
 
 "Yes; God be thanked for to-morrow!" the 
 lady broke in — ''and for the peace that makes it 
 possible. Ah! Cousin Wirt, I grow young again in 
 their happiness. Hear that! — " 
 
 A ringing peal of girlish laughter broke 
 through the darkening dusk. A moment later 
 feet crunched the fresh-raked gravel of the walk, 
 and a tall, stalwart form strode into view, with a 
 more shadowy one clinging to his arm. The 
 laughter ceased; the tall head seemed to bend 
 down an instant. Then silence fell as the pair 
 rapidly approached and mounted the familiar, 
 broad steps — creaking now no longer beneath the 
 firm tread. 
 
 "And nothing on your head, my child," Mrs. 
 Courtenay said mildly. "Ah! Master Rob, you 
 will have to learn to take better care of our baby 
 than this." 
 
 "Really, Cousin Virginia, I don't think — " the 
 youth began. 
 
 "Major ]Maury is excusable, kinswoman," Gen- 
 eral Calvert finished for him. "You are too cxige- 
 ante. How can a young gentleman think of any- 
 body's head, under circumstances which warrant 
 
THE TORCH AT CRAG-NEST. 206 
 
 losing his own? Zounds! my little cousin, in his 
 boots, I believe I should walk upon my head." 
 
 '^I'll run in and make Esther light up," Miss 
 Dandridge replied, somewhat incousequently. "It 
 is supper time, and we were just saying we were 
 both awfully hungry." 
 
 "I thought so," the veteran answered quietly; 
 and as the fair girl tripped into the dim hall, her 
 cavalier seated himself upon the step, struck a 
 modern match and applied it to the bowl of a fra- 
 grant briar-root pipe. 
 
 There was a quiet ijause, while the attention 
 of the trio might have been concentered on the 
 red-glowing pipe. 
 
 The sky behind the mountains whitened sud- 
 denly, the cloud edges catching the gleam of mol- 
 ten silver. Then the full disc of the moon popped 
 suddenly up over old Three-Top, sending her slant 
 shafts of light full upon the group, and dropping 
 their reflections broad and clear upon all inter- 
 vening space. 
 
 "I am an awkward cub of a fellow. Cousin Vir- 
 ginia," the young soldier blurted out abruptly. "I 
 have never once told 3'ou how grateful I am. But 
 God knows I appreciate the blessing He gives me; 
 and I'll try to prove to you that I deserve it!" He 
 puffed thoughtfully a moment, sending fragrant, 
 blue wreaths against the white moonlight. 
 
 "I believe you do deserve her, Rob." There was 
 
206 CRAGNEST. 
 
 gentle gravity, but loyal assurance, too, in the 
 matron's tone. "And you will prove it, my boy, 
 for the blood of the Cabbells is in your veins." 
 
 "And my duty to you is done, sir," the older 
 soldier added. "My promise to your father is ful- 
 filled. Mon dicu! Nothing can make a man of 
 you like possession of such a woman!" 
 
 For a moment Rob Maury was silent, smoking 
 with short, nervous puffs. Then he cried bluntly: 
 
 "Wasn't I a donkey, though! To think Wythe 
 was flirting with liavanel, and make myself miser- 
 able — worse than that! to make her so — two whole 
 years. General, 1 ought to be reduced to the 
 ranks!" 
 
 "Sentence approved and referred to your new 
 commanding officer," General Calvert answered 
 laughingly. But there was a strange softness in 
 his tone; and he reached out a firm hand, resting 
 it on the boy's shoulder, as he added: 
 
 "You have done credit to your race, sir; for four 
 long years. A brave gentleman can not be a don- 
 key long, liob, and you would never have mistaken 
 had you loved less loyally." 
 
 "He never makes mistakes!" Master Rob mut- 
 tered — more to himself than in reply. He jerked 
 his head toward two others, coming rapidly from 
 the gate; then hid himself in silence and a dense 
 cloud of smoke. 
 
 "Oh! Aunt Virginia, she will be here at day- 
 
THE TORCH AT CRAG- NEST. 207 
 
 light! Wg walked over to the station and found 
 a telegram, telling us the train broke down at 
 Weldon!" 
 
 Valerie Courtenay's voice had the same clear, 
 rich ring as of yore; but the tears had all dried out 
 of it now, replaced by the thrill of full contentment; 
 and the tone was the saucy, girlish one that had 
 charged Rob INlaury with desertion on that same 
 spot four years before, 
 
 "There was a dispatch for you, too. General 
 Calvert," her companion said, mounting the steps 
 and handing the dingy envelope. 
 
 "Thank you. General Eavanel. ^Yith your 
 permission, ladies," the veteran said; and rising, 
 as the hall lamp gleamed out bright and clear, he 
 moved toward the door and broke the seal. 
 
 "I am more rejoiced than I can tell you. Gen- 
 eral Ravanel," Mrs. Courtenay said earnestly. 
 "To have my old schoolmate under my roof — after 
 all these years, quite fills the measure of my joy 
 for to-morrow — and your sister, too, general," she 
 added suavely. "As your mother's daughter, she 
 would be welcome, even had Richmond not taught 
 us all to love and know her high womanhood." 
 
 "Yes, it would not have been complete with- 
 out — sister." Valerie hesitated only a second, be- 
 fore the word; but the dark eyes she raised to her 
 lover had in them a depth of love born of grateful 
 memory. 
 
208 CJiAG-NEST. 
 
 "You both know how I delight to hear you 
 speak so," Kavanel answered in his quiet way — 
 "and to feel that it is deserved. There are no 
 women to me, in all the world, like ma and sister!" 
 
 "Say! Cousin Val!" Major Maury whispered, 
 out of his cloud, to the girl — "that's treason. But 
 you'll teach him to talk differently after a while." 
 
 "Never doubt it, Rob!" she whispered back, 
 in her old saucy way. "Suppose we begin now. 
 Just offer me your arm for a stroll in the conserv- 
 atory, and repeat that declaration you made me 
 at the ball and — " 
 
 "Hush! Here conies AVythe," he interrupted 
 uneasily. "Don't remind her of what a donkey 
 I made myself; for, in her goodness, she pretends 
 to forget it!" 
 
 "Of course she does," INIiss Courtenay retorted, 
 in the same low tone — "since you shared with her 
 what was dearer than life; what you refused me!" 
 
 He only stared, taking the pipe from his lips; 
 but she went on: 
 
 "Didn't I peep over the banisters, that evening 
 of the 'starvation,' and see you divide that pre- 
 cious pie — " 
 
 "Bother the pie! Please hush!" And the ex- 
 major, C. S. A., jammed his broad shoulders 
 against the pillar and puffed denser clouds than 
 before. 
 
 "More good news, kinswoman!" General Cal- 
 
THE TORCH AT CRAG-NEST. 209 
 
 vert cried, coming from tlie hall with one hand 
 captured by AVjthe's plump little one, and the 
 other extending the brown dispatch. "General 
 Buford telegraphs that my letter followed him to 
 Washington, and he will be down just in time for 
 the — event." 
 
 "He will be welcome, Cousin Wirt," the matron 
 answered frankly, but gravely. "I had never ex- 
 pected to ask a Union officer to cross the thres- 
 hold of Crag-Nest, socially; but respect for the man 
 — no less than gratitude — makes Mister Buford 
 welcome, in spite of his uniform." 
 
 "Zounds! madam; you don't expect him to wear 
 it? I tell you that old Frenchman was right: We 
 know a man when we have fought with him!" the 
 old soldier cried warmly. "Buford is a true gen- 
 tleman, as well as a true soldier. I'll risk my 
 parole, kinswoman, that he comes in mufti T 
 
 The lady's face was still grave; but she made 
 no reply, before Ezekiel appeared in the doorway. 
 Resplendent in immaculate expanse of collar and 
 front, that shamed even his halcyon days of the 
 war, the old black wore a dress coat of startling 
 length of skirt, and trowsers of amplest width; 
 both fresh and shining from the tailor's hands. 
 Under his arm he bore a massive silver waiter; and 
 there was rejuvenescence in the voice — punctuated 
 by a stately bow — that announced: 
 
 "Da missus' tea am served!" 
 
 14 
 
210 CRAG -NEST. 
 
 Still silent, Mrs. Courtenay rose, passed her 
 arm into her kinsman's and moved stately to the 
 old dining-room, the younger pairs following with 
 less state, 
 
 "Oh! Fraser, how could you?" Valerie whis- 
 pered, her glance flashing to Ezekiel's new suit. 
 
 "He won his spurs, as my aid that day," he 
 answered softly; one of his rare smiles lifting his 
 mustache — "and Sheridan dismounted him, with 
 the rest of us. He will lose enough, in losing his 
 'young missus' to-morrow, not to have at least the 
 solace of a new uniform." 
 
 Very different were the feelings of those seated 
 around that hospitable board now — almost as dif- 
 ferent was the feast spread upon it — from those 
 days of war. Plenty had not yet spread her fos- 
 tering wings above the Valley; but, even in those 
 early days the pressure of dire want had ceased to 
 bear so heavily upon its dwellers. And, to those at 
 Crag-Nest, comfort had returned exceptionally 
 soon; and its fruits were never so sweet, as when 
 the mistress of the manor shared them with those 
 about her. 
 
 And this was the last family supper, before the 
 tangled threads of Fate would form, for four of 
 them, into that gentle but binding knot, which only 
 the hand of Him who blesses it may loosen for- 
 ever. But the love that makes the dinner of herbs 
 more savory than the stalled ox was present there; 
 
THE TORCH AT CRAG-NEST. 211 
 
 and the thought of partings, on the morrow — if 
 they came at the moment — only mellowed the joy 
 of present reunion and future hopes. 
 
 But at last Mrs. Courtenay said gently: 
 
 "To-morrow will be the day of your lives, my 
 children. We must be astir early, to welcome dis- 
 tant friends; and you should have your full 'beauty 
 sleep.' Young gentlemen" — she rose as she spoke 
 — "I hold it as true Virginian hospitality, as it 
 was Grecian, to 'Welcome the coming, speed the 
 parting guest.' " 
 
 A few minutes later Ezekiel held the bits of 
 two horses, champing at the door. Two couples, 
 a little apart on the broad piazza, spoke low fare- 
 wells; and then sounded the clatter of hoofs, as the 
 young soldiers galloped away through the moon- 
 light to the neighboring farmhouse that furnished 
 their temporary lodgment. 
 
 The delicate intuition of the older pair held 
 them in perfunctory discussion of some trifle of to- 
 morrow's decoration; but, when the girls demurely 
 came for their good-night kiss, the fervent lips of 
 the old lady — the grim mustache of the veteran — 
 alike pressed it upon each fair brow with the pure 
 tenderness of a sacrament. 
 
 Nowhere are the days of early autumn brighter 
 or more crisp than in the Valley country of Vir- 
 ginia; and this one was ideal in its temperature. 
 
212 CRAG-NEST. 
 
 Onlj' fleeciest clouds, here and there, flecked the 
 broad, blue dome, toward which higher peaks 
 seemed to stretch upward longingly through the 
 transparent atmosphere. On the levels, lazy cat- 
 tle lay ruminant, while from the coverts came the 
 distance-softened whirr of wings, or soft sound of 
 insects. 
 
 "And Nature's voices all accord, 
 In song of brook, or pipe of bird. 
 To sing, or wliisper, one sweet word 
 And that is — Peace! " 
 
 Noon was well past, and already the sun — rap- 
 idly" dropping westward from his zenith — began 
 to lengthen the mountain shadows, as memories of 
 the past stretch out to days of life's decline. 
 
 The double wedding was over. In the delapi- 
 dated, rustic church near by, a white-haired bishop, 
 in whose veins also mingled the blood of the Cal- 
 verts and the Cabbells, had spoken the solemn 
 words that linked four souls "until death do us 
 part." And now his grace sat at the right hand 
 of his hostess, as the family party finished the 
 wedding dinner, in the memory-peopled dining- 
 room. At opposite end of the board. General Cal- 
 vert presided with a grand dignity, that struggled 
 for supremacy with a joyous honhommk which no 
 feast of all his Parisian experiences had called 
 forth; his especial attentions showered upon the 
 
THE TORCH AT CRAG-NEST. 213 
 
 stately, high-bred Carolina dame at his right. Her 
 clear-cut features and still elastic grace of figure 
 might have denied maternity of the younger gen- 
 eral, next to her, had not the recent war been 
 fecund of promotions singularly rapid. Opposite 
 sat the pale, delicate and reserved "portrait in 
 little" of her mother, Kuth Ravanel; but the gray 
 strands gleaming through the glossy black of her 
 hair — and the severe simplicity of her black silk 
 gown — hinted at less kindly pressure upon her of 
 Time's omnipresent hand. 
 
 But never, of old, had "ladye fayre" craved 
 more courtly cavalier than he who sat beside her; 
 tall, soldierly and bland, in faultless morning-suit, 
 innocent of hint that Pattison Buford had ridden 
 down that Valley by the light of flaming roofs — 
 that the voice, now tuned to society's pitch, had 
 ever thundered ''Charge!" upon the very men who 
 tendered now fraternal welcome, with something 
 beyond 
 
 " The stern joy that warriors feel 
 In foemen worthy of their steel! " 
 
 "That is the worst feature of a country so large 
 as ours," General Buford was saying. "The very 
 magnificence of distances prevents our knowing 
 how charming society may be just beyond us. In 
 my own case now, only the accidental call" — he 
 paused imperceptibly, delicately avoiding even al- 
 
214 CJiAG-N£ST. 
 
 lusion to duty — "business at Washington, made 
 it possible for me to reach here and assist at one 
 of the most grateful occasions of my life." 
 
 "I am not sure," Mrs. Courtenay answered 
 suavely, "that there are not compensations in dis- 
 tance — at times in our lives. But, in your case, 
 sir, we are deeply debtors to business for its acci- 
 dent; and I sincerely hope" — she gravely raised 
 her glass with firm hand, as her eye met his with 
 the pretty pride of hospitality — "that you may 
 never again be so near Crag-Nest, without honor- 
 ing its threshold by crossing it." 
 
 "Permit me, General Buford, to join in my kins- 
 woman's wish," the veteran cried, beaming as he 
 raised his glass, "to our guest and — brother sol- 
 dier!" 
 
 Ravanel and Maury raised their glasses — the 
 former's as yet untouched; and that uncompromis- 
 ing daughter of the commonwealth that gave the 
 Union her "First Rebel" — the mistress of Crag- 
 Nest — bent her grand head in courteous sanction 
 of the pledge of peace to "the enemy." 
 
 Then Ezekiel moved gravely round the board, 
 placing fresh glasses, of thinnest make, at every 
 place; pausing by his mistress, waiting her com- 
 mand. As he did so, the moving of wheels grated 
 on the gravel without. 
 
 "Dearest and best pledge of all must be our 
 last," she said in softened tones. "And time warns 
 
THE TORCH AT CRAG-NEST. 215 
 
 that it must be given now. Cousin Wirt, the 
 health of the brides!" 
 
 Ezel?;iel had vanished at a sign from her. Now 
 he reappeared, bearing upon his salver a dim and 
 dusty bottle; its neck resting stiffly uj)on a folded 
 napkin. 
 
 ''This Madeira, sent from our kinsman in En- 
 gland," the matron went on, foroing down a tremor 
 in her voice, "was set aside from my wedding day, 
 to be drunk at the first marriage of the next gen- 
 eration. Providence ordained that it should be 
 reserved for these dear children; and I have to 
 thank this faithful servant that it escaped the rav- 
 ages of the — destroyer of most things, a half-cen- 
 tury of time," she finished, with one quick glance 
 at the Federal soldier. "Ezekiel, be very care- 
 ful." 
 
 ''No! Permit me, cousin!" General Calvert 
 cried, rising with the elastic bound of a youth, but 
 a courtly bow to Mrs. Pavanel. "On an occasion 
 like this, the Calvert wine should be served by a 
 Calvert!" 
 
 With the pride of a connoisseur, but the tender- 
 ness of a father handling his first-born, the veteran 
 took the cobwebbed bottle in his sinewy hand. 
 Deftly he inserted the massive corkscrew — never 
 changing the angle of the neck, but bringing out 
 the cork without sound or tremor. Then he 
 passed about the board with stately grace, filling 
 
216 CRAG-NE8T. 
 
 each glass, and standing at his own place with an- 
 other profound bow to his lady, as he said: 
 
 "Cousin Virginia, our glasses are filled!" 
 
 Mrs. Courtenay rose gravely, and with her rose 
 each guest. A soft glow was on her cheeks; and 
 her eyes, for once, were downcast and moist. Her 
 lips trembled slightly, but the white, blue-veined 
 hand steadily lifted the brimming glass, as she 
 said: 
 
 "My children and friends, our overfull hearts 
 would mock the effort of our lips to speak their 
 feelings. To the brides and groom^s! May Our 
 Father keep them to-day and forever!" 
 
 In eloquent silence each glass was sipped; two 
 of the toasted bravely radiant with joy — two of 
 them tremulous, with eyes downcast and tear- 
 suffused. But Buford — charmed with the won- 
 derful bouquet of the rare old wine, and sipping it 
 slowly — suddenly noted the pallor of the woman 
 at his side, her face death-like, above the severe 
 black dress. Over the white cheeks rolled two 
 great tears, the long lashes could not restrain; 
 and the bosom beneath its silken restraint seemed 
 rent by a will-repressed sob. Tactful as brave, the 
 Philadelphian glanced across the board, but not 
 before Valerie had slipped her hand into the 
 other's and his quick ear had caught the almost 
 soundless whisper: 
 
 "Ruth! Sister!" 
 
THE TORCH AT CRAG-NEST. 217 
 
 The carriage was at the door; the ample, old- 
 time family coach, with age-dimmed cushions, 
 worn paint and massive silver plates, all refreshed 
 so far as EzekiePs loving veneration and stiffened 
 muscles could compass that feat. Not the sleek 
 and prancing steeds of former times drew it; but 
 two veterans of the war, now translated from 
 squadron or battery, to better bed and rack, wore 
 rather loosely the massive harness of "better 
 days." 
 
 But neither vehicle nor team occupied the 
 thoughts of those now grouped upon the broad 
 steps, engrossed in leave-taking; the bridal couples 
 read}^ for departure for the near station. 
 
 The reddening of coming sunset, already in the 
 sky behind the Massanutten peaks, reflected on 
 faces grave and pale — spite of brave efforts of the 
 hearts behind them. The two young girls were 
 close held in the venerable arms of her who had 
 been friend, almoner — mother to them, all those 
 long and trying years. The dark lashes and the 
 blonde alike glistened with tears, that would 
 come; only the eyes of the old lady dry, if filled 
 with yearning tenderness. 
 
 "It is hard to send you away, my children, even 
 to your own happiness," Mrs. Courtenay said very 
 gently, as her arms released the twain. "Yet it 
 is but for 'a little while; and it is not parting, for 
 you will always be present in these rooms. So, 
 
218 CMAO-NEST. 
 
 take the old woman's blessing, and go now with 
 those who have the better claim." 
 
 The tender but nndimmed eyes turned yearn- 
 ingly toward the hallway — with something in 
 them like that last look, when they rode aAvay, 
 after Opequon. But the brave lady forced her 
 lips to smile, as she added : 
 
 "You can not be truants long, you know; for 
 remember, all your silver saved by Ezekiel, I still 
 hold here." 
 
 "We will be back so soon. Aunt Virginia," 
 Valerie said softly — "and we will write m 
 often!" 
 
 "And you must not feel lonely, auntie!" Wythe 
 cried, an April smile shining through the mist 
 in her eje^. 
 
 "I will not be lonely," jMrs. Courtenay answered 
 with quiet voice, but lips that trembled slightly. 
 "I am wholly happy, my dears, because my chil- 
 dren are so. And Sarah lioutlege will remain 
 with her old schoolmate, since my child has robbed 
 her of hers. And this dear girl, too." 
 
 Her arm passed gentl^^ about the waist of the 
 other stately woman, as it had done in those long- 
 gone days of school-girl love, in the North; and 
 the other slim hand firmly clasped that of the pale 
 young widow, whose only answer was a peaceful 
 smile. 
 
 Hearty hand clasps exchanged by the men, and 
 
THE TORCH AT CRAd-NEST. 219 
 
 last adieiix spoken, Mrs. Coiirtenay's arms were 
 about liOb Maur^^'s neck, as she cried: 
 
 "My brave boy! I can well trust my baby with 
 you! — and, Fraser, I need not say, what you 
 know!" The stately head bent toward him and 
 her lips pressed the broad forehead of the Carolin- 
 ian — ''God keep you all, my children!" 
 
 She turned abruptly, pacing slowly toward the 
 conservatory — ahme ! 
 
 The carriage rolled away, crunching the gravel 
 merrily. After it dashed Ezekiel, with new-found 
 youth and a recklessness scarce consonant with 
 his grand garb, nigli above his head he waved a 
 venerable shoe, hurling it after the carriage, as he 
 cried : 
 
 "Sen' dem luck, Esther!" 
 
 And his helpmeet of years — her black cheeks 
 shiny with tears, but her still white teeth glisten- 
 ing with a broad grin — forgot her gorgeous ban- 
 dana turban and the splendor of flowered Dolly 
 A^arden cretonne, as she skurried after him, sail- 
 ing tiny but worn slii^pers through the air in heart- 
 felt "6o/« royafjcP'' 
 
 All on the steps stood silent, watching the car- 
 riage beyond the turn, as the negroes trotted back 
 from the gate, hand-in-hand. No word was spoken 
 until Mrs. Courtenay slowly turned and, with 
 quiet step, rejoined them. There w^as suspicious 
 moisture in her eyes now; but her voice was as 
 
220 CRAG-NEST. 
 
 calm as gentle, when, again passing her arm about 
 her old schoolmate, she said: 
 
 ''Sarah Routlege, we live our youth over again 
 in our children's happiness!" 
 
 "You shame the bravery of us old soldiers, 
 kinswoman!" General Calvert cried bluntly; but 
 tugging at his grim mustache nervously. "You 
 have always been a true Virginian; but now, 
 zounds! you are a Roman!" 
 
 "Rut happil}^ not assisting at a sacrifice," Gen- 
 eral Buford added graciously. "Mrs. Courtenay, 
 I can not find words to thank you for permitting 
 me to share the joy of valued— friends!" 
 
 "The right word, Buford !" the Southern soldier 
 cried, radiant again as he grasped the other's hand. 
 "You and I have seen the torch glow in the Valley. 
 Thank God! We are spared to see the kindling of 
 the torch of Peace — ^the torch of Hymen!" 
 
 THE END. 
 
" The Prose Epic of t/ie Bloody Confederate Drama.'''' — Jas. R. Randall. 
 
 Foui^Yeai^g in I^ebel Gapitalg 
 
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 There is a delicate finish about DeLeon's writing that reminds 
 one strongly of Thackeray ; an exquisite humor seems to trickle 
 down his pages. — Omaha Bee. 
 
 Well written and full of interest for any class of readers. — N. 
 Y. Journal of Coynmerce. 
 
 The author's tone is high, his temper manly, his purpose to 
 be impartial, sincere. — Pittsburg Times. 
 
 The most perfect portrayal of true Southern life and character 
 this country has ever seen. — Daily News. 
 
 Sold by all Book Dealers, or mailed to any address (prepaid) on receipt 
 of price, by 
 
 THE GOSSIP PRINTING CO., Mobile, Ala. 
 
DeLeon's New Burlesques. ''Racier than 'The Rock or ike Rye.'" 
 
 SoM as I iiave FouuM li. 
 
 By CAD McBALLASTIR. 
 
 TRANSLATED FROM TUE ANGLOSIANIAG TONGUE INTO AMERICAN, 
 BY THE AUTHOR OF " THE ROCIC OR THE RYE." 
 
 Full-Pago IllustratlOBS after Author's Designs. Price, 25 Cents. 
 
 Newark Advertiser : The skit is inimitable in its way. 
 
 Portland Argus: There is fun in it, as well as thorns. 
 
 San Francisco Call: Written in a brij,'lit vein by a humorist of 
 merit. 
 
 Toledo Bee : Price, 25 cents ; and there is several dollars' 
 worth of amusement in it. 
 
 Washingto7i Gazette: Mr. DeLeon's travesties are full of mirth, 
 but his pen is caustic when it takes that line. 
 
 Brookly7i Eagle: Humorous in every part, with much dry 
 sarcasm at society. 
 
 Mailed (prepaid) to any address, on receipt of price, by 
 
 THE QOSSIP PRINTING CO., 
 
 MOBILE, ALA. 
 
BY THE SAME AUTHOR. 
 
 SGloop liiat Bump OD me u 
 
 An Automatic Tow from 
 "SHIPS THAT PASS IN THE NIGHT." 
 
 80 Pages, paper, 11 fall-pa^c Illustratioas, after the Author's Designs. 
 Price, 25 Cents. 
 
 Uiica Herald: Cleverly twists characters, plot and style, and 
 is good medicine for melancholia. 
 
 Nashville Banner : As good as "Rock or the Rye " and per- 
 fectly ludicrous throughout, revealing a laugh in every detail. 
 
 New Orleans Picayune : Healthy reading for all who are in 
 danger of the drink habit. 
 
 Brooklyn Citizen: Makes a complete story that has more true 
 philosophy of life than the one it travesties. 
 
 Louisville Times: Mr. DeLeon is never more at home than 
 when turning the laugh on some serious work. In this case he 
 has succeeded to a marvel. It brims over with fun. 
 
 Chicago Herald: The skit is humorous, though a trifle bitter. 
 The dialogues are funny, as are the reflections. 
 
 St. Paul Dispatch: Unlike the " Rock or the Rye," this treats 
 not of one subject, but of many. It is a complete and funny 
 story, and a triple burlesque. 
 
 Mailed ( prepaid ) to any address, on receipt of price, by 
 
 THE GOSSIP PRINTING CO., 
 
 MOBILE, ALA. 
 
RARE BOOK 
 COLLECTION 
 
 THE LIBRARY OF THE 
 
 UNIVERSITY OF 
 
 NORTH CAROLINA 
 
 AT 
 
 CHAPEL HILL 
 
 Wilmer 
 341