American Tales. 
 
 PRICE 1& CENTS. 
 
 No. 9. Complete. 
 
 A. WILLIAMS & CO. Agents, Boston, Mass. 
 
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 .viE^^ 
 
THE 
 
 PRISONER OF THE MILL; 
 
 OB, 
 
 CAPTAIN HAYWARD'S "BODY GUARD." 
 
 M 
 
 BY LIEUTENAKT-COLONEL HAZELTINE. 
 
 A-UTHOR OF " The Boeder Spy." 
 
 ( 
 
 NEW YORK: 
 THE AMERICAN NEWS CO., PUBLISHERS' AGE NT, 
 
 NO. 131 NASSAU STREET. 
 
Eutere<T according to Act of Congi'ess, in the 
 
 year 1864, by SracLAiR Tousey, Publishers' Agent, in the Clerk's Office of the District 
 
 Court of the United States for the Southern District of New York. 
 
 I 
 
THE 
 
 PRISONER OF THE MILL. 
 
 CHAPTER L 
 
 Brother and Sister — Forebodings — Nettleton. 
 
 War ! Oh ! how much of misery is ex- 
 pressed in that one word ! It tells its own 
 tale of woe, of blood, of broken hearts and 
 desolated homes, of hope« blighted, of pov- 
 erty and crime, of plunder, peculation and 
 official tyranny, of murder and sudden death. 
 In short, it develops all the baser passions 
 of the human heart, changing a peaceful 
 world to a world of woe, over which the 
 destroying angel well might weep. 
 
 Come, oh, thou angel, Peace ! 
 
 The " Army of the Mississippi," as it was 
 termed, had been unsuccessful in their pur- 
 suit of the rebel General Price. A portion 
 of it, or rather the di^^sion commanded by 
 General Sigel, had advanced from Spring- 
 field, Missouri, upon the Wilson creek road, 
 as far as the famous battle-ground rendered 
 immortal by the death of General Lyon, but 
 finding no enemy, it had encamped upon 
 Grand Prau-ie, a few miles to the west of 
 the bloody field. All in camp was upon 
 the " tip-toe of expectation." The lovely 
 scene spread out before the view, was suffi- 
 cient to inspire the heart of man to great 
 and glorious deeds. The broad, rolling 
 prairie lay there, like heaven's great carpet. 
 The long grass waved in the breeze, pre- 
 senting the appearance of a deep-green sea, 
 undulating in low swells as if Queen Mab's 
 wand were wafting over it ; the autumn's 
 frost had changed thousands of the delicate 
 emerald blades to purple, yellow, and scarlet, 
 while, intermixed with these, was the white 
 prairie flower, lending to the scene an 
 almost fairy-like aspect. The large "Fre- 
 mont" tents were arranged in rows, in a 
 tasty manner ; flags were flying ; bands 
 were discoursing sweet strains which echoed 
 far and wide ; squads of soldiers in vari-col- 
 
 ored imiforms were lounging lazily on the 
 grass, while those detailed for mess or gnard 
 duty, were busily prosecuting their assigned 
 tasks. To the east of the camp appeared a 
 wall of forest-kings, their verdure, also, 
 touched by the frost, presenting a variety 
 of colors, and glistening in the sunlight. 
 
 Few in that small army had witnessed the 
 horrors of the battle-field ; but, like all "green" 
 troops, conceiving that there was much of 
 romance connected with the deadly field, 
 and that heroes were created by a single 
 brave deed, the mass of Sigel's men were 
 eager to meet the foe. It had been given 
 out that the entire army was to join this 
 division on the prairies, and that an advance 
 was to be made at once against Price, who 
 was then at Cassville, some forty miles dis- 
 tant, to the southward. 
 
 " I think we can safely count upon a des- 
 perate battle by the day aft;er to-morrow," 
 exclaimed one of a party of five, seated with- 
 in a captain's tent — four of whom were at a 
 table, with cups and wme before them. The 
 fifth person was making himself generally 
 useful, acting in the capacity of a servant. 
 
 " You have fleshed your maiden sword at 
 Springfield, and I. did not suppose you would 
 be anxious for another fight. I confess I 
 can not gaze upon such scenes without a 
 shudder, and, if duty would permit, I would 
 willingly sheathe my sword forever." 
 
 " Captain Hayivard, you are low-spirited 
 to-day," answered the first speaker. 
 
 " I am, indeed. Lieutenant Wells. And 
 can you wonder ? My sister is here !" 
 
 " I only wish mine was !" 
 
 " That is a rash wish, my friend. She 
 would be exposed to much danger, and I 
 never want mine to gaze upon a battle-field. 
 No ! where men cut each other's throats, 
 delicate, sensitive women should not be 
 near !" 
 
THE PRISONER OF THE MILL. 
 
 " Could you find no way in •which to send 
 her from Springfield to St. Louis?" asked 
 Wells. 
 
 " I could have done so by the mail coach, 
 but, you know, tlie entire distance of one 
 hundred and thirty miles, from Springfield 
 to Rolla, or to Tipton upon the other route, 
 is infested with guerrillas, and I feared to 
 scud her. I preferred she should brave the 
 djmgers of the camp or even the battle-field 
 with me." 
 
 Captain Hay ward bent his head upon his 
 hands and was silent. It was some moments 
 before any one ventured to speak. All ap- 
 peared to be oppressed with a strange sad- 
 ness. At length one of the party, Captain 
 Gilbert, slapping him familiarly upon the 
 shoulder, and endeavoring to speak gayly, 
 said : 
 
 " Come, come, Harry, this won't do ! you 
 must^hake off every vestige of blues. You 
 are suffering still from the wound you re- 
 ceived in the Warsaw sldrmish, and it makes 
 you low-spirited. No doubt your sister will 
 be perfectly safe, and I know she had much 
 ratlier be with you, to assist you should you 
 need her aid, than to be safe in St. Louis, 
 enduring the tortures of suspense." 
 
 Hayward made no reply. At this mo- 
 ment, a female, delicate and fair, came trip- 
 ping lightly into the tent, her face wreathed 
 in smiles, and her eyes sparkling with de- 
 light ; but, as she caught sight of Hayward, 
 she paused, and gazed upon him for a mo- 
 ment, exhibiting the most intense interest; 
 then advancing, and placing her hand upon 
 his shoulder, she spoke : 
 
 " Brother !" 
 
 Hayward started, and clasping her in his 
 arms, he pressed her close to his heart for a 
 moment. But, gazing into his eyes, she 
 asked : 
 
 " What is the matter, dear Harry, you ap- 
 pear ill?" 
 
 The countenance of Hayward underwent 
 an instant change, as he replied : 
 
 "Not HI, but somewhat depressed in 
 spirits, perhaps, in view of what a day may 
 bring forth." 
 
 " Oh ! Harry," she said, " I hear there is 
 going to be another fight. Will you have 
 to go into it and leave me ?" 
 
 " Should there be a battle, J shall endea- 
 vor to protect you, dear sister." 
 
 ** But, you will be in danger ; perhaps 
 woimded — perhaps killed ! Oh ! what would 
 I do, then ? Don't go, Harry !" and the gen- 
 tle girl threw her arms around her brother's 
 
 RBC 
 
 Ncq 
 
 neck and wept After a moment, he raised 
 her, and pressing his lips to her forehea<l, 
 said: 
 
 " I wish to speak with these gentlemen a 
 moment. Go to your friend Alibamols 
 tent. I will come for you, soon !" The 
 sister cast back a look of fond solicitude, and 
 left the tent 
 
 Hayward gazed after her a moment, mut- 
 tering audibly : 
 
 " Poor child, what rcmild you (fo if I 
 should fall. You would mdced be alone !" 
 " Now, captain, I don't think that's half 
 fair," exclaimed the one spoken of as being 
 the servant. " Do you think I am such a 
 dam skunk as to — if you was killed — the 
 darn — not to fight for my capt'n's sister — 
 the skunk — no, I mean, if you die — if she 
 — dam me, if I don't — I — I — " and the 
 speaker, as if imable to express what he did 
 mean, suddenly left the tent All present 
 smiled broadly, and good-humor was thus, 
 for the moment, infhscd in all hearts. 
 " Nettletou had a sudden call !" said one 
 " He has gone to the sutler for a dictio: 
 ary !" added another. 
 
 " His heart is in the right place," remark- 
 ed Hayward. 
 
 " That's so !" responded all, with em 
 phasis. 
 
 " You are safe, Avith such a ' dam skunk' 
 for your body-guard, Captain Hayward," 
 GUbert declared, with comic seriousness. 
 
 William Nettleton was in hight about six 
 feet. His general appearance was very sin- 
 gular. His hair w.is nearlj' white — natu- 
 rally so ; his eyes of a light green and 
 large ; his carriage very loose — indeed, when 
 he walked, one would almost expect to see 
 him fall in pieces. His feet were huge in 
 dimensions. He had the appearance of a 
 half-witted, Uly-formed person ; but he was, 
 withal, neither one nor the other. Having 
 been detached from the company to which 
 he belonged, to act as servimt to Captnin 
 Hayward, he soon became so greatly at- 
 tached and devoted to the captain, as to be 
 styled his " body-guard." This attachment 
 was not fictitious, nor did it proceed from 
 a spirit of military sycophancy or subservi- 
 ency V it was felt. Nettleton had evinced 
 more than ordinary courage on several oc- 
 casions, and had, also, displayed so much 
 judgment with hrs intrepidity, that he had 
 received offers of advancement ; but these 
 he declined, preferring, as he expressed 
 himself, " to stay with my capt'n, the first 
 what promoted me." 
 
 
THE CAMP AT GRAND PRAIRIE. 
 
 S 
 
 It will also be well to exi^lain the pres- 
 ence of ladies in the camp. 3Iiss Maniie 
 Hayward was the sister of Captain Hay- 
 ward, who, having received intelligence that 
 her brother was wounded, had visited Spring- 
 fiGld for the purpose of ministering to his 
 wants. At the time of her arrival Fremont's 
 " Army of the Mississippi " was marching 
 upon that place, and the journey from RoUa 
 or Tipton was safe. But soon, those roads 
 were infested with guerrillas, and, as they 
 were poorly guarded, it was not thought 
 prudent that the ladies who had reached 
 Springfield should attempt a return. Miss 
 Hayward, therefore, remained with her bro- 
 ther. This same reason will apply to all 
 the ladies in camp, of which there were 
 several — conspicuous among whom was the 
 wife of Adjutant Hinton, one of the officers 
 of the well-known " Benton Cadets." She 
 was usually addressed as " Alibamo" — her 
 name when a captive in Price's hands. She 
 was very beautiful, and of that daring, de- 
 termined natui'e which has immortalized so 
 many women of the West. In company with 
 Alibamo, was a young lady who acted in 
 the capacity of waiting-maid, but who rtRly 
 appeared more like a companion. This fe- 
 male possessed the not particularly eupho- 
 nious name of Sally Long. 
 
 " I must join with Nettleton in my re- 
 proaches. Captain Hayward," answ^ed 
 Lieutenant Wells, in a subdued tone. " You 
 forget my conversation with you last night !" 
 
 " No, Wells. You informed me of your 
 affection for my sister, but you have never 
 addressed her as a lover. How do you 
 know that she will return your love ? If 
 she eould return it, I confess, lieutenant, I 
 do not know any one to whom I would 
 mor© ^willingly see her united ; but, if she 
 can .«ot, how could you assume to become 
 hei'j/rotector '?" 
 
 " If such should be the case, and the for- 
 tunes of war should deprive her of a bro- 
 ther, rest assm-ed that, not only myself, but 
 every man in cami> would willingly shed 
 his blood in her defense, and care for her as 
 a sister !" 
 
 " Thank you. I do feel a foreboding of 
 eviU' I believe I shall be killed in the com- 
 ing "battle. If this should be the case, I 
 commend her to your care. But, my nerves 
 are excited. I will walk into the open air. 
 No ! I would be alone 1" he added, as one 
 of the officers arose as if to aecompany him. 
 
 As he left the tent one of the party, a 
 Captain Walker, exclaimed : 
 
 " Well, I hope things are all right, but I 
 have my doubts !" 
 
 " Your doubts of what ?" asked Wells. 
 
 " Humph ! well, no matter. You are too 
 du-ectly interested to listen to the explana- 
 tion. But, perhaps you will find out some 
 day." 
 
 " Do you intend, sir, to cast any slur upon 
 Captain Hayward ?" 
 
 Captain Walker did not reply, but left the 
 tent. An hour or more had passed, and 
 Hayward did not return. It was now quite 
 dark, when suddenly the assembly was 
 sounded, and, all anxious, the troops fell in. 
 The order was read : 
 
 " Pack knapsacks, and have every thing 
 in readines9 for a move at daylight." 
 
 All was excitement, and every prepara- 
 tion was made for a forward movement. 
 But soon it began to be whispered that the 
 orders were to return. In a short thne it 
 was officially annoimced that the movement 
 was, in reality, back to Springfield, and from 
 thence to EoUa and St. Louis. JIany were 
 the expressions of disappointment and re- 
 gret, and some even ventured to denounce 
 the policy. Fremont had been superseded 
 in the field, and General Hunter, his suc- 
 cessor, had abandoned the campaign, thai 
 on the very eve of its final consummation. 
 
 CHAPTER n. 
 
 TTie Tragedy of the Stream. Wlw was Ghiittyf 
 
 When Captain Hayward left the tent, he 
 proceeded to the stream which skirted the 
 woods. Bending over it, he bathed his fe- 
 vered brow. Then he seated himself upon 
 the bank of the river, and, resting his head 
 upon his hands, was, for a long time, ab- 
 sorbed in his thoughts. A human form 
 flitted lightly past. Hayward raised his 
 head and listened, but all was quiet again, 
 and, in the darkness of the night he could 
 distinguish nothing. 
 
 " I was mistaken 1" he said to himself. 
 " K I was not, and a human being is around, 
 I will wager it was Nettleton, who, anxious 
 for my safety, has followed me." 
 
 The captain was again silent for a mo- 
 ment, when the breaking of a twig betrayed 
 the presence of some person. Hayward 
 raised his head and called : 
 
 " William ! WiUiam Nettleton !" 
 
 " Sir !" answered a voice but a few feet 
 from the captain. 
 
6 
 
 THE PRISONER OF THE MILL. 
 
 " Why did you follow me, "William ?"j 
 
 " Cos I'm a darn skunk," drawled the 
 person addressed, as he emerged out of the 
 darkness. " And Ourse yau /" 
 
 The person speaking was before him. In 
 an instant Hayward sprung to his feet, but, 
 , TPith a crj' of agony exclaimed : " Great 
 Grod, Nettleton — why have you — oh God, 
 save me — you've killed me — I die !" And, 
 falling heavily forward, the words died up- 
 on his tongue. 
 
 The murderer bent over the murdered 
 for a moment ; then, with some haste, roll- 
 ed the body into the water, and turned from 
 the spot. He paused under the shad* of 
 a tree, and listened for the tread of a sentry, 
 that he might enter the camp unobserved. 
 With a half-suppressed laugh he uttered his 
 thoughts : 
 
 " I have done it, sure ; and now that it 
 is done, I must progress — no retreating now. 
 I think I'll win. Good-by, captain, and give 
 my respects to my friends as you float down- 
 stream." 
 
 He proceeded with caution toward the 
 camp, and was soon lost in the city of canvas. 
 
 The tattoo soon sounded. Lights were 
 extinguished, and all was quiet, save in a 
 few tents, which appeared to be those of 
 officers. Yet, there were aching hearts 
 within that camp, and, as the night pro- 
 gressed, many were the anxious inquiries as 
 to why Captain Haywaixl did not return. 
 
 In a large tent, near that occupied by 
 Captain Hayward, were seated three ladies. 
 One was iMiss Hayward ; another was Ali- 
 bamo, or, as she is now a wife, she should 
 be called Mrs. Adjutant Hinton ; the other 
 was Miss Sally Long, the waiting-maid of 
 Alibamo. Before this tent paced a special 
 guard ; beside it was a tent of much smaller 
 dimensions, occupied by Nettleton and his 
 servant, black George, or, as Nettleton used 
 to call him, " Swasey's nigger." 
 
 " I fear something has befallen my bro- 
 ther. He does not return, and it is now 
 twelve o'clock !" 
 
 " Don't be alarmed," said Alibamo, in a 
 soothing voice ; " your brother is most 
 likely at the head-quarters of General Sigel. 
 He may be detained on business. Come, 
 lot us retire." 
 
 " No, not while my brother is absent." 
 
 At this moment the guard came to the 
 tent entrance and said : 
 
 " Ladies, if you have not yet retired Cap- 
 tain Walker requests the pleasure of a few 
 words with Miss Hayward." 
 
 " Oh, Alibamo, I fear that man ; he looks 
 at me so strangely. But perhaps he bring? 
 news of my brother. I will' see him. Bid 
 the captain enter." 
 
 As Walker entered he appeared agitated, 
 but controlling his emotions, he said : 
 
 " Ladies, you will pray excuse me. I 
 feel tliat I mvst speak now, as it may be my 
 last opportunity. We — or, I should say the 
 army — will be separated at Springfield, and 
 I shall see you no more." 
 
 "Do you bring news of my brother?" 
 asked ^liss HajTvard. 
 
 " No ! His disappearance is very strange. 
 But I came to speak of myself" 
 
 " What would yqu say ?" 
 
 " This, Miss Hayward. I have loved you 
 long and dearly. To-morrow we may be 
 parted, and I would ask you, should the 
 fortunes, or rather the misfortunes, of war 
 deprive you of a brother's love and protec- 
 tion, will you not permit me to seek you 
 out and become your future protector ?" 
 
 " Captain Walker, these words gurprifle 
 me, and I think propriety demandeil that , _ 
 th^ should have been spoken in the prea- ' 
 eWfe of my brother." -'^^ 
 
 " Pardon mC, dear lady. I have waited 
 until this hour for your brother's return, and 
 at last, fearing I should have no other op- 
 portunity, I ventured to visit you now. You 
 have a friend and sister in Alibamo, and 
 surely you will not fear to speak before her." 
 
 " I can not answer your question — it re- 
 fers to the future." 
 
 " Then for the present. Let me speak 
 plainly, and I beg you will do the same. 
 Can you not at least regard me nmc as yoiu" 
 friend and protector, and give me a friend's 
 privileges ?" 
 
 The timid girl turned toward Alibamo, 
 and in an inaudible voice, spoke a wop^. 
 
 " She answers promptly, no /" ntJliw^ 
 Alibamo, somewhat sterner than WBS her 
 usual manner. 
 
 " You lore another, then ?" asked Walker. 
 
 Miss Hayward did not reply. ; 
 
 " Is the favored one Lieutenant ^^|i]s ?" 
 again asked Walker. jK 
 
 " You are impertinent, Captain W^^er," 
 replied Alibamo. " I must request you to 
 retire. How can you thus, in her brother's 
 absence, address her in this manner ?" 
 
 At this moment there was a commotion 
 in the tent of Nettleton. The voice of the 
 negro was heard, exclaiming : 
 
 "J he'rd you, massa Nettleton. There 
 ain't no use in you denyin' it. I he'rd 
 
THE MURDER OF CAPTAIN HAYWARD. 
 
 massa cap'n say, ' Ob, Nettleton, ye kill me !' 
 Oh Lord, if eber I get out ob dis scrape, 
 ye'U neber catch dis chile in such another 
 one." 
 
 " Is the nigger crazy ? "What is the 
 dam skunk talking about ?" 
 
 " Oh, you needn't make b'lieve ignora- 
 mus on dis 'ere question. I he'rd ye." 
 
 " Now, look a here, you unconscionable 
 dark; if you have got any thing to say, 
 apit it out. Don't make a dam skunk of 
 yourself" 
 
 " Oh ! won't I fotch ye up in de morn- 
 ing ? Yes, sah !" 
 
 " Are you going to speak, and say what 
 you mean ?" 
 
 " Oh, golly ! You go back on de cap'n 
 dat way !" 
 
 "What cap'n? Out with it, or I'll 
 break your head and every bone in your 
 body," exclaimed Nettleton, in a state of 
 midisguised excitement. 
 
 " Serve dis nigger as ye did de cap'n, 
 and den put his body in de riber !" 
 
 The negro had scarcely uttered these 
 words when Nettleton seized him. He set 
 up a terrible howl, which brought Ca^iin 
 Walker to their tent. 
 
 " What is all this f\iss about ?" asked 
 Walker. 
 
 The negro went on to explain as follows : 
 
 " Why, ye see, massa cap'n, I went ober 
 to dat yar house across de riber, to see Miss 
 Julia, a col'd gal dat used to be my sweet- 
 heart. Well, I see'd de Johnnies comin', 
 and I run down to de riber to come on dis 
 side, but dey come so close to me dat dis 
 chile hid behind a big log. Den dey stop 
 right by me, and say, ' Golly, we can't 
 cotch nobody.' Den I he'rd some one on 
 de Oder side ob de riber say, " Oh, Nettle- 
 ton, you — " 
 
 " Silence this stuff! You have been 
 drunk. If you speak upon this subject 
 again, I'll Cut your black throat." 
 
 " I'se dumb, massa cap'n." 
 
 Quiet had now been restored, and all 
 parties retired for the few hours that inter- 
 vened before morning. But it was evident 
 all were not asleep. Several times a stealthy 
 step was heard, and a shadow flitted past 
 the white canvas tent, dimly seen by the 
 pale starlight. 
 
 Morning came at last, and all was astir. 
 Captain Hayward had not yet returned. 
 The inquiry was made if any one had seen 
 him. 
 
 " I have not seen him since last evening 
 
 at twilight, replied Walker, " at which time 
 he acted very strangely, and talked about 
 the injustice of war. I am inclined to 
 think he has deserted and joined the enemy." 
 
 " Oh, you darn skunk I" yelled Nettleton, 
 as he sprung forward, and was about to 
 strike the speaker. But, checking hiinself, 
 he added : "It's weU you wear them gilt 
 things on your shoulders, or I'd teach you 
 to call my cap'n such names." 
 
 " If you would save yourself trouble you 
 had better remain quiet, Nettleton," replied 
 Walker, aa he fixed his eyes significantly 
 upon him. 
 
 " I knows where Cap'n Hayward am," 
 said the negro, stepping forward. 
 
 " Where is he ?" sobbed Miss Hayward, 
 pressing forward, in her eagerness. 
 
 " He is—" 
 
 " Silence !" yelled Walker. 
 
 " Let him speak," said the colonel. " Gk) 
 on, George. Where is the captain ?" 
 
 " Down dar !" The negro trembled vio- 
 leutly, and glanced at Nettleton. 
 
 " What do you mean ?" 
 
 " He's in de riber — killed dead, sure !** 
 
 A wild shriek rose upon the air as Miss 
 Hayward fell back into the arms of Alibamo, 
 insensible. 
 
 " By whom was he killed ?" 
 
 " By massa Nettleton dar, snre. I he'rd 
 across de riber, jis as plain as day." 
 
 Nettleton started back in horror, his eyes 
 extending widely, and his frame trembling. 
 A general murmur of disbelief ran through 
 the crowd. 
 
 " Did you see him do the deed ?" asked 
 the colonel. 
 
 " Golly, I couldn't see much, it war so 
 dark. But I hear massa cap'n say, ' Oh, 
 Nettleton, you kill me 1' Golly, see how 
 massa Nettleton shake !" 
 
 " Where was this ?" 
 
 " Rite down by dat tree. His blood is 
 all ober de ground ; I jest see it." 
 
 In an instant Nettleton had dashed off 
 for the spot indicated. In accordance with 
 an order from the colonel he was pursued. 
 Reaching the locality named, he gazed upon 
 the ground. It was red with blood — fresh 
 blood. He threw himself upon the earth, 
 and wept and moaned, and called upon his 
 captain to retum. His grief was terrible 
 to behold. By this time the officers and 
 many of the men had arrived. They gazed 
 upon the grief-stricken servant with respect, 
 and more than one expression of sympathy 
 was heard. 
 
8 
 
 THE PRISONER OF THE MttL. 
 
 " If Captain Nettleton has been murdered, 
 it was not by that boy. Nettleton loved 
 his captain too much to harm him," said 
 Lieutenant Wells. " I am inclined to think 
 tlie deed has been done by skulking guer- 
 rillas." 
 
 " I incline to your opinion, Lieutenant 
 Wells, as to the innocence of Nettleton. 
 But, as to the deed having been done by 
 guerrillas, it is not likely. It is much too 
 near camp." 
 
 " But Hayward certainly had no enemy 
 in our camp who would have done this 
 deed." 
 
 " We do not know the secret motives 
 which animate tlie human heart," replied 
 Walker, in a tone and manner not devoid 
 of meaning. 
 
 " Let instant search be made for the body," 
 commanded the colonel. It was done, but 
 no trace of it could be found, although the 
 water was too shallow to have permitted it 
 to float down the river. Attention was 
 again directed to Nettleton, who was sitting 
 erect, gazing at a piece of sharp, bloody 
 steel which he held in his hand. Viewing 
 it a moment, he sprung to his feet, and fixed 
 his eyes upon Lieutenant Wells. Then he 
 turned to the colonel and luanded him the 
 blade. That oflBcer examined it Directing 
 Ms gaze upon Lieutenant Wells, he asked : 
 
 " Has any one among you a small Span- 
 ish dirk, with a highly-polished and orna- 
 mented blade ?" 
 
 " I Md such a one," replied Wells, " but 
 I have missed it for several days." 
 
 The colonel instantly turned toward the 
 camp, commanding all to follow him. He 
 halted before the tent of Lieutenant Wells, 
 and said : 
 
 " Tou, Captain Walker, and you, Adju- 
 tant Hinton, enter thia tent, and tell me 
 what you find." 
 
 The search lasted but a moment, during 
 wiiich time Wells had been assisting Miss 
 Hayward, but not without evincing much 
 agitation. Walker now appeared, holding' 
 in his hand a bowl of bloody water, and 
 exhibiting the broken stiletto, covered with 
 blood, which had been found in the over- 
 coat pocket of Wells. A shirt, also, was 
 found, which was stained with blood. 
 
 "What can you say to this damning 
 proof of your guilt ?" asked the colonel. 
 
 " I know nothing of it." 
 
 " Arrest the murderer of Captain Harry 
 Hayward !" commanded the colonel, in a 
 loud voice. 
 
 The guards instantly seized him. 
 
 "Murderer! lie a murderer — and of 
 my brother ! No ! no ! This is some dread- 
 ful dream. Oh, tell me my brother is not 
 murdered ; it will kill me. Oh, see ! Pity 
 a friendless girl who kneels to you and begs 
 you to tell her that you have not deprive<l 
 her of a dear brother. Speak to me, Ed- 
 ward. I did love you, and you would not 
 harm him." 
 
 Wells could not speak. He had never 
 spoken to ^Miss Hayward of his love for 
 her ; but now, in the delirium of her grief^ 
 she had confessed her love for him. Oh, 
 what a moment ! 
 
 Walker advanced to raise Miss Hayward 
 from her bended position before W^Us. 
 
 " Paws ofl", ye dam skunk T' yelled Net- 
 tleton, as he hurled Walker to the groimd. 
 " / alone am her protector now." 
 
 CHAPTER HI. 
 
 TJie Proposal — TTie Interruption — The Indian 
 —TTie Bescu^—The Wounded Man^The 
 Jifystery. 
 
 Near the village of Ozark, at the base of 
 a ridge of mountains of that name, runs a 
 most beautiful stream or river, which bears 
 the name of the village, and is one of the 
 tributaries of the noilh fork of the Gascon- 
 ade. Its banks are high, and covered with 
 a thick but small growth of the " scrub " 
 oak, peculiar to that portion of ^Missouri. 
 The bed of the river sparkles with brilliant 
 white and yellow pebbles, polished by the 
 rush of waters for thousands of years. A 
 fine bridge spans the stream along the main 
 road, that nms through the only opening 
 in the forest for miles around. After cross- 
 ing this bridge, and ascending a sharp hill, 
 the village of Ozark is reached. This con- 
 sists of about twenty ordinary-looking dwell- 
 ings, a court-house, and a rough building, 
 dignified by the name hotel. Beyond the 
 village, and higher up the mountain, is a 
 line of rolling hills, which overlook the 
 coimtry for mUes around. On one of these, 
 and near the edge of a grove, were to be 
 seen a cluster of tents, and, from the num- 
 ber of horses picketed but a short distance 
 away, it would at once be supposed, from 
 a distance, to be a cavalry camp, -ftith, per- 
 haps, a section of artillery. 
 
 On a sloping point, extending from the 
 side of the bridge to the stream, and reclin- 
 ing upon the turf, were two persons. The 
 
THE WOUNDED OFFICER 
 
 9 
 
 one a young man of marked appearance, 
 and the other a female of much beauty, al- 
 though her ch-ess bespoke her a native of 
 that portion of the country. 
 
 •' Nettie, when do you expect your sister 
 to return?" 
 
 " It Is difficult to answer, Charles, but I 
 trust very soon." 
 
 " Have you not heard from her recently?" 
 
 " No. There is no way in which she can 
 communicate with me. The mails have 
 been discontinued, you are aware, from KoUa 
 to Springfield." 
 
 " K you can visit the army, I presume you 
 can both dispatch and receive letters. Are 
 you not very anxious to Iqarn how she is 
 treated among the Federals ?" 
 
 " I am most anxious ; still I have no fears." 
 
 " I can not feel as you do upon that sub- 
 ject. I would not awaken useless fears in 
 your breast, but / have not so much confi- 
 dence in theu' magnanimous natures." 
 
 " Charles, you told me to-day for the first 
 time, that you loved me, and asked me if I 
 could not address you as dear Charles. You 
 have been very kind to me, and, on one oc- 
 casion, you rescued me from the hands of a 
 villain. I feel grateful — Iruly so. But, 
 whatever my feelings may be, I never can 
 wed my countiy's enemy. Look yonder. 
 You see that .white cottage. Once it was 
 beautifully adorned with creeping vines, and 
 the lawn before it bloomed with flowers and 
 shrubbery. But, dearer than all, within its 
 walls hved my father and my sister. Look 
 at it now ! Its beauty has departed — it is a 
 icreck ; father and sister have been driven 
 from it, while I have been detained here by 
 force. You profess to love me. If you do 
 80, prove it ! "We are now more than a mile 
 from the rebel camp, and you can escape 
 with me to Springfield." 
 
 " I will assist you to escape ; indeed, I will 
 accompany you a portion of the way to 
 Springfield. But I must return to my own 
 people and fight with them to the last. I 
 do love you, and I would become your hus- 
 band, gladly, if I could be satisfied you 
 loved me for myself alone. But, I can not 
 • sacrifice one jot of honor or principle to win 
 even you, dear Nettie." 
 
 " And you will go with me, now ?" 
 
 ** Yes — stay, what is that? Did you not 
 hear a low, moaning sound ?" 
 
 " I heard nothing." 
 
 " Well, perhaps I am mistaken. But I 
 fancied I heard such a sound. No matter. 
 I will go with you now to Springfield." 
 
 " To what purpose, young man ?" 
 
 The speaker was a powerful person, and 
 had emerged from the bridge just in time to 
 hear the last sentence of Charles Campbell. 
 
 " So, sir," he continued, " you would de- 
 sert us, and join the Yankees, and all for 
 your foolish regard for this vixen !" 
 
 " Colonel Price, if you were not an officer 
 I would make you eat- your words. I have 
 served you faithfully, and you have no right 
 to question my loyalty. I do not intend to 
 desert, neither is this lady a vixen any more 
 than you are a cowardP 
 
 Price started, bit his hps, and fi'owned 
 fiercely. At length he asked : 
 
 " Why did you propose visiting Spring- 
 field with this ludy ?" 
 
 " I intended to accompany her a portion 
 of the way, -and then to return to my duty." 
 
 " Why does she wish to visit Springfield ?" 
 
 " Because her father and sister are both in 
 St. Louis, and she wishes to rejoin them." 
 
 " Did not yonder cottage belong to her 
 father ?" 
 
 " It did." 
 
 " He was one of the most bitter opposers 
 in this section. And you love his abolition 
 daughter ?" 
 
 " I love his daughter, sir !" 
 
 " Enough." You will return to camp this 
 moment I will take charge of this young 
 lady. When I rejoin you, I shall put your 
 loyalty and your courage to the test. Do 
 you see yonder boat ?" 
 
 He pointed up the river. A small boat 
 was seen floating down the stream, in which 
 three men were sitting erect, and the form 
 of a fourth, lying prostrate. 
 
 " How do you propose testing my loyalty. 
 Colonel Price ?" 
 
 " That boat contains a Yankee officer. 
 He is to be hung up by the neck. You shall 
 perform the job." 
 
 " Is not that man wounded, Colonel 
 Price?" 
 
 " Yes, very badly so, I am informed." 
 
 " Then IwiU not perform tJie base thing yoxc 
 propose." 
 
 Price drew a revolver, and pointing it to 
 the head of Campbell, commanded him to 
 start at once for camp. He had scarcely 
 done so, when a powerful Indian sprung 
 from concealment, and snatched the weapon 
 from his hand. At the same time he seized 
 Price, as if he had been a child, and hurled 
 him into the water below. Without waiting 
 to watch the result of this sudden immersion 
 upon the chivalrous colonel, he caught the 
 
10 
 
 THE PRISONER OF THE MILL. 
 
 maiden in his arms, and bounded oflF in the 
 direction of Springfield. As be started, be 
 beckoned to the young man and muttered : 
 
 " Come — follow — me save her !" 
 
 Price floundered about in the water for a 
 moment, and finally succeeded in reaching 
 the shore just as the boat came up. 
 
 "■Come — quick — ^join me in the pursuit !" 
 yelled Price. 
 
 The three men leaped upon the bank, 
 dnd, at the command of Price, all discharged 
 their pieces after the retreating In(,liim, but 
 without eflect. Pursuit was then ordered, 
 but Price, observing that Campbell did not 
 follow, turned and asked : 
 
 " Are you not coming, sir ?" 
 
 " No !" was the prompt reply. 
 
 Price felt for his revolver, but finding it 
 gone, he only muttered, " Curse you," and 
 then commenced the pursuit. For over a 
 mile it was kept up. The pursuers gained 
 upon the Indian, who was considerably ob- 
 structed in his flight by the weight of the 
 female. At last Price exclaimed : 
 
 " By the eternal, there come the Yankees !" 
 
 Sure enough, just appearing in view upon 
 an elevated point a little beyond, was seen 
 a squadron of cavalry, and a section of flying 
 artillery rapidly advancing, 
 
 " To the hill ! Give the signal for our 
 guns — to the bridge — secure the prisoner 
 in the boat !" 
 
 These commands were given by Price, as 
 he commenced a rapid retreat toward the 
 bridge. Pausing on the hill just before 
 reaching it, he unfurled a small flag and 
 made a signal. In an instant all was astir 
 in the rebel camp, and artillery and cavalry 
 soon came dashing down the hill. 
 
 " Where is the prisoner ?" yelled Price, as 
 he came to the bridge. 
 
 "Perhaps the yoimg man you left here 
 has taken him to camp." 
 
 " But the boat is gone ! However, there 
 is no time to be lost, now. They are upon 
 us ! Quick !" 
 
 Colonel Price started for the opposite end 
 of the bridge, followed by his three confed- 
 erates. The rebel troops were still some 
 distance from that end of the bridge nearest 
 their camp, which it was evident they in- 
 tended reaching, if possible, in order to 
 sweep the narrow passage, if the Union 
 forces attempted to cross. The Federals, 
 however, were the first to gain that point. 
 But, had a crossing been effected, as soon as 
 ttiey reached the opposite side they would 
 have been exposed to the most galling fire 
 
 of the enemy, as there was a large space of 
 flat, swampy ground in front ; and then a 
 sharp bluif, upon which the rebel artillery 
 would, in such a case, be planted. The 
 commander of the Federals, observing thi« 
 situation at a glance, ordered a halt, and 
 brought his section of artillery into i)osition. 
 One piece was placed so as to enfilade the 
 bridge, and the other upon a little rise of 
 ground, in a position where it could sweep 
 their lines beyond. The rebels observing 
 this, threw forward two guns, amid a deadly 
 fire from the Unionists, and succeeded in 
 taking a position upon the opposite end of 
 the bridge. Several rounds of grapc'were 
 hurled back and forth, but as the C0Y;er waa 
 good, but little damage was done.''^ The 
 cavalry attempted a crossing, but the thick 
 growth of oaks prevented. A charge' waa 
 about to be ordered across the bridge, when 
 an explosion took place, and it was shat- 
 tered to fragments. Taking advantage of 
 this, the rebels made a rapid flight. Ai 
 pursuit was useless, the command was given 
 to fall back to Springfield. 
 
 The Indian we have spoken of now ap- 
 proached the commander, leading the trem- 
 blmg woman, and said : 
 
 " Me save — you save — white squaw V 
 
 " Do you require my protection ?" asked 
 the commander. 
 
 Nettie told her story in an artless manner, 
 of which the reader has gleaned all neces- 
 saiy 2:»articulars. She was kindly provided 
 for, and soon reached Springfield in perfect 
 safety. 
 
 Soon after the arrival, a soldier came to 
 the tent of the commanding officer, present- 
 ing a bit of paper. 
 
 " Colonel, I picked up this scrap near the 
 bridge, but did not look at it imtil this mo- 
 ment. It may be of importance." 
 
 The colonel took the paper and read 
 aloud : 
 
 " A suspicion of my fidelity to the Confed- 
 erate cause has crossed the mind of my com- 
 manding officer, Lieutenant-Colonel A. M. 
 Price, simi^ly because I consented to assist 
 Miss Nettie' ^lorton to reach Springfield, 
 from which point she might be able to rejoin 
 her friends, who formerly resided in Ozark, 
 but are now in St. Louis. I was condemned, 
 in consequence, to be the executioner of a 
 icounded Federal officer. At this cowardly 
 act my whole nature revolted. Chance has 
 favored me, and I have determined to save 
 him. In what manner I can not here write, 
 fearing this paper should fall into Confederate 
 hands, and my plans b^ thus interrupted. I 
 can not learn who he is. I asked his name, 
 and I have some reason to beUeve that Misa 
 
NETTLETON'S SEARCH FOR THE CAPTAIN'. 
 
 11 
 
 Morton may throw some light upon the sub- 
 ject, as the only words he spoke were ' Net — 
 murdered — sister—.' He bore the rank of 
 captain. Charles Caicpbell." 
 
 The colonel turned toward 3Iiss Morton, 
 ■who was seated in his tent, and asked : 
 
 " Do you feel any especial interest in any 
 Union officer now with us ?" 
 
 Miss Morton hung her head and blushed. 
 
 " Do not fear to speak, and frankly, too, 
 Miss Morton. Perhaps the welfare of one 
 you love — perhaps his safety, may depend 
 upon your candid confession." 
 
 " I— I—" 
 
 " Have you ever met one of our oflBcers?" 
 
 " But once. And then I only passed the 
 evening in his society. He was kind, but 
 he has forgotten me !" 
 
 " It is enough, you love him. But the 
 short time he was with you could scarcely 
 have made an impression so deep that he 
 would mutter your name in his delirium. 
 And yet, the woimded man was near your 
 residence. And he exclaimed ' Net — '. 
 Tour name is Nettie, is it not ?" 
 
 " It is." 
 
 " And what is the name of him you re- 
 fer to ?" 
 
 " Captain Hakrt Haywaiid I" 
 
 The officer was visibly affected. " ' Nettie.' 
 ' Net — .' ' Nettleton !' ' Murdered.' ' Sis- 
 ter.' It is very strange. Harry Hayward's 
 body was not found, but he was assassinated. 
 .Ah, I begin to fathom the mystery." He 
 murmured all this in words not audible to 
 flie astonished Miss Morton, and left the 
 tent slowly, as if ojDpressed with the weight 
 of a momentous thought. 
 
 CHAPTER rV. 
 
 Nettleton' s Adventure in a Noose — Some Im- 
 portant Inforrnation. 
 
 The suriDrise of "Walker was very great 
 at the unexpected movement of Nettleton. 
 His sword flashed from its scabbard, and he 
 made a half-pass at his breast. But, check- 
 ing himself, he said : 
 
 " William, I can forgive j^ou in consider- 
 ation of your grief, and I spare you, that 
 you may assist in the care of Miss Hayward. 
 Curse him !" he muttered to himself, " I 
 would strike the infernal dog dead at my 
 feet, but the act would only place a greater 
 barrier between me and my prize. Miss Hay- 
 ward," he added aloud, " you wiil always 
 find me ready and most anxious to serve 
 you." 
 
 " Miss Hayward wiU not lack for firienda, 
 sir!" replied AliLamo, in a tone of con- 
 tempt. 
 
 " Captain Walker, I shall place the pris- 
 oner in your charge. You will forward at 
 once." These words were spoken by the 
 colonel. 
 
 Walker bit his lip, and was silent. He 
 then commanded the guard to forward, mut- 
 tering as he did so : ^^ 
 
 " The second most agreeable job. ru 
 revenge myself upon him." 
 
 As the guard formed around Lieutenant 
 Wells, he tm-ned to Miss Hayward, and said : 
 
 " Oh ! dear lady, you have inadvertently 
 confessed that you had some regard for me. 
 This is not a time to speak of such things, 
 but I will now say to you, that which has 
 never before passed my lips, excepting to 
 your brother. I love you, with a devotion, 
 ardent as it is pure and holy ; and by that 
 love I swear, and beg you to believe, that I 
 have never harmed your brother !" 
 
 Miss Hayward turned toward him, and 
 made a movement as if to reach his side, 
 but Walker held aloft the bloody knife, which 
 met her gaze, and, with a shudder, she turn- 
 ed to Alibamo. 
 
 " Forward !" cried Walker, and Edward 
 Wells, the once popular officer and general 
 favorite, was urged on, bound and guarded, 
 charged with, and generally believed guilty 
 of, the foulest of crimes. But yesterday he 
 was on the road to honor and fame ; bow 
 he was marching forward to a disgraceful 
 death. The entire division was soon in 
 motion. 
 
 Nettleton now approached Miss Hayward, 
 and said : 
 
 " Miss Mamie, I am going to do all for 
 you such a darn sk — I mean such a chap 
 as me car^ do ; but, I'm feard that ain't much. 
 But you're going now where there ain't no 
 danger, and if you please, I'm a going to 
 stay behind and hunt for the captain." 
 
 " Oh ! thank you, William," sobbed Miss 
 Hayward. " How can I ever repay you, 
 dear friend ?" 
 
 " Don't — don't !" said WUliam. A chok- 
 ing sensation came over him, and, unable to 
 sity more, he turned away, only to be com- 
 forted by liliss Sally Long, who placed her 
 hands upon his shoulders, and said : 
 
 " WiUiam, if you will find the captain, I'll 
 Icm you dearly /" 
 
 Nettleton started back, opened his eyes 
 wide — so he did his mouth, as if attempting 
 to speak. His lower jaw wagged two or 
 
12 
 
 THE PRISONER OF THE MILL. 
 
 three times, but no sound was heard. Then 
 turning his eyes, he saw '.he gaze of all fixed 
 upon him, and started )ff suddenly upon a 
 run, exclaiming as he did so : 
 
 " "Who ever thought it possible that I 
 should ever be loved by Sally — such a darn 
 %kuuk — a sweet gal, I mean !" 
 
 Nettleton did not pause until he had 
 overtaken the colonel, of whom he request- 
 ed permission to remain and make a more 
 thorough search for his captain. 
 
 " No, "William," was the reply. " We will 
 not be a mile distant before the enemy's 
 scouts will be here, and you will be taken 
 prisoner." 
 
 " No fear, they don't notice such as me !" 
 
 " But your uniform will be sufficient." 
 
 " Oh ! I always go prepared. I have 
 another suit under this, one as I got from 
 the bushwhack I laid out the other night, 
 as he came noseing around Captain Hay- 
 ward's tramping ground, and I shall put 
 that on top." 
 
 " Well, do as you like, but be careful !" 
 . Nettleton waited for no other words, but 
 turning, proceeded at once to the spot whefe 
 Hayward received the fatal stab. He sat 
 down for a time, sUeut and mournful, gazing 
 into the water. He then commenced a 
 scrutinizing search. He became satisfied 
 that the body could not have floated down 
 the river, on account of the shallowness of 
 the water. He crossed the stream, searched 
 upon the opposite bank, and there found 
 the footprints of a niunber of men. He fol- 
 lowed the tracks, and found that two per- 
 sons had descended into the river, and out 
 again, near the same spot. He took the 
 measurement of each impression in the mud, 
 and then exclaimed : 
 
 " I'll be darned if Lieutenant Wells' boot 
 made any of them marks ! I know how it 
 is. Captain must have come here last night 
 to think, and some of them dam rebel 
 skunks come up behind him suddenly, and 
 killed him, and then two of them crossed 
 over and got his body, and brought it back, 
 and that accomits for the tracks in and out 
 of the water. But what did they want 
 with him if he was dead? Perhaps he 
 wasn't quite killed, and they took him pris- 
 oner. I'll follow these tracks, anj-Tvay." 
 
 Nettleton followed up the footmarks until 
 they merged into the turnpike, which was 
 so cut up with travel as to prevent him 
 tracing them further. He now returned to 
 the fatal spot. Bending down he examined 
 the earth, still red with blood. Something 
 
 appeared to interest him, and creeping on 
 his knees, he followed a footprint to the edge 
 of the stream. Here was an impression of 
 two boots, side by side, in the mud. Net- 
 tleton gazed upon them for a few moments. 
 His breast heaved violently — he clenched 
 his hands, and at last said : 
 
 " I've blacked them boots. I know 'em 
 well — there is the impression of the t/ioo 
 hearts in the mud, and there ain't but one 
 pair of boots ill our camp as has two hearts 
 made with nails in the ball of each boot. 
 Oh, you dam — " 
 
 Something caught the eye of Nettleton 
 in the water. He spmng in and secured 
 it. It proved to be a handkerchief, which 
 bore a name upon the comer. He gazed 
 upon it a moment, and said : 
 
 " The man as had on them boots stood 
 in them tracks, and washed himself iiji that 
 river. He wiped up«n this hankcrchcr and 
 then threw it into the water. Folks as 
 washes the evidence of miirder off their 
 hands, don't wash in the river, throw away 
 the wiper, and then take a tm pot of bloody 
 water to — " 
 
 " What the devil are you doing here ?" 
 
 Nettleton turned to behold a party of six 
 horsemen who had suddenly approached 
 him. In his anxiety he had forgotten to 
 change his clothing — that is, to cover his 
 blue uniform -nith the rough gray suit he 
 wore underneath. 
 
 " So, you are a Yankee soldier," exclaimed 
 one of the party. 
 
 " No I ain't ; Tm a dam skunk." 
 
 This reply, and the ungainly appearance 
 of Nettleton, caused a laugh throughout the . 
 entire party. 
 
 " Tou are not a Yankee soldier ? Then 
 what ai-e you doing with that unifomi ?" 
 
 Nettleton looked at his dress, and for the 
 first time became conscious that he had not 
 changed it. He, however, instantly replied : 
 
 " I am a spy for the General." 
 
 " What General ?" 
 
 " General Price, to be sure." 
 
 This created another fit of merriment. 
 
 " Just as if the likes of you would be 
 employed as a spy ! Why, you don't know 
 enough to last you half a mile." 
 
 " That's just the reason why I am a spy. 
 I am such a dam skunk no one pays any 
 attention to me." 
 
 " Have you been m the Yankee camp here ?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 " Have you a Confederate uniform under 
 that blue ?" 
 
NETTLETON IN THE REBEL CAMP. 
 
 18 
 
 " Yes," replied Nettleton, throwing off 
 his coat and exposmg the gray. 
 
 " To what company and regiment do you 
 belong ?" 
 
 " No company. I go it on my own hook." 
 
 " You know^ General Price ?" 
 
 " Yes, very well." 
 
 " Have you ever been in his camp ?" 
 
 " Often." 
 
 " Describe him." 
 
 Nettleton had, on one occasion, accompa- 
 nied a party of disguised Union officers into 
 the very camp of Price, while that General 
 held possession of the upper Osage. One 
 of the officers being detected and wounded, 
 was ■ borne along with the retreating rebel 
 army jfrom the Osage to Springfield, and 
 Nettleton had followed on for the purpose 
 of rendering assistance if possible. His ap- 
 parent stupidity prevented suspicion, and he 
 had been one of the leading spirits in a res- 
 cue which afterward occurred. He was, in 
 consequence, not only known to General 
 Price himself, but to a large number of his 
 officers and men, and hence it was very de- 
 sirable for him to avoid the main army. 
 He supposed that he could deceive his cap- 
 tors, or effect his escape. And the shadowy 
 thought that Captain Hayward might have 
 been seized and borne toward the rebel 
 quarters at once decided his course. He 
 gave an accurate description of Piice. 
 
 " Good !" answered one of the party, " it 
 is evident you are a spy. I find you on the 
 spot the Yankees have just left. You have 
 tJieir uniform on and ours under it. So far 
 that looks well. You know and have per- 
 fectly described our General. That renders 
 it certain you have seen him. Now, one of 
 two things is certain : you are a Yankee spy, 
 and have been in our camps with that gray 
 uniform outside, and then communicated 
 your information to your General, or you 
 are a Confederate spy, who, having just been 
 in the Yankee camp, must have important 
 information for our General. In either case 
 we shall conduct you to him. If you are 
 his man, then all will be right If you are 
 not, then you will be hung withm half an 
 hour after your arrival. You understand ?" 
 
 " I first thought of going on to Spring- 
 field, but I think I have all the information 
 necessary, and I had made up my mind to 
 return. I halted here a moment to change 
 my dress; and to look for a Yankee officer 
 who was supposed to be killed last night. 
 But I think he was only badly wounded, 
 and may yet be found alive in the taU grass. 
 
 Look for him." These words were spoken 
 by Nettleton in an apparently cheerful tone. 
 
 " Oh ! you mean the captain who was 
 stabbed last night." 
 
 " Yes, yes ; do you know any thing of 
 him ?" 
 
 " You appear especially anxious, Mr. 
 What's-your-name ?" 
 
 " I am anxious," replied Nettleton, fiercely. 
 " He insulted me, and I would be revenged." 
 
 " Don't trouble yourself He'll catch it 
 soon enough. He was not killed, but was 
 taken out of the water by us." 
 
 " Who struck the blow ?" yelled Nettle- 
 ton. 
 
 " No one of our party. We were con- 
 cealed upon the opposite bank. We could 
 not see the murderer strike, for it was too 
 dark ; but we saw the body thrown in the 
 stream, and saw the stabber wash himself 
 in the river. We would have fired upon 
 him, but were afraid of rousing the Yanks. 
 We waited until he left the body, after 
 throwing it into the stream, and then we 
 recovered it. The man was still alive. He 
 had only fainted from loss of blood. We 
 dressed his wound as well as we could, and 
 then conveyed him to a house the other side 
 of the pike. He will recover ; but Colonel 
 Price has an especial spite against him. He 
 met him once at Springfield. So, wTien he 
 recovers he will be hung." 
 
 " Where is he now ?" asked Nettleton. 
 
 " At a little house not fifty rods from 
 here, just the other side of the pil^e." 
 
 Without a word, Nettleton bounded like 
 a deer in the direction the Federal forces 
 had taken. But a dozen shots were fired 
 after him, and he fell. He was soon se- 
 cured, when it was ascertained that one 
 bullet had cut the neck badly, and another 
 had struck the ankle, although it had not 
 broken the bone. He was still able to 
 walk, and, after being bound, he was dragged 
 forward toward Cassville. 
 
 A march of forty miles was almost to« 
 much even for the tough Nettleton, more 
 especially as he had received a severe shot 
 in the ankle ; but he bore up firmly, and 
 at last arrived at the outskirts of the rebel 
 camp. He had become very lame, and 
 rolled about like a ship in a heavy sea. 
 As he entered the camp, many were the 
 jeers and taunts which hailed this specimen 
 of the Yankee soldier. Nettleton made no 
 reply, although his coimt^nance bespoke his 
 contempt 
 
 He was now near the quarters of Price. 
 
14 
 
 THE PRISONER OP THE SIILL. 
 
 " By thunder 1" yelled one of the Confed- 
 erate soldiers, " that is the very fellow who 
 fooled us at Springfield. Hang him ! Hang 
 him!" 
 
 , An explanation was soon made, and Net- 
 tleton's fate appeared certain, as a " drum- 
 head " court-martial had already been con- 
 vened. Sentence was soon given — the 
 Yankee spy was to be hung upon the spot ! 
 
 A rough scaflFolding was formed, imder a 
 large tree, and a rope, with the fatal noose 
 attached, thrown over a limb. Nettleton 
 ascended the platform in silence, although 
 his frame trembled. 
 
 " I never saw a Yankee yet that did not 
 fear to die," exclaimed one of the bysUmders. 
 
 " Then you see one now, you dam skunk," 
 replied Nettleton. 
 
 " Why do you tremble, then ?" asked the 
 Confederate. 
 
 " I was thinking of the captain, and of 
 his poor sister ' Mamie.' " 
 
 " Ha ! ha ! ha I This booby is in love. 
 A romantic spy. And the idol of his pas- 
 sion is called ' Mamie !' " 
 
 " You lie, you dog 1" yelled Nettleton. 
 " I only—" 
 
 " What is all this ?" asked a stately-look- 
 ing officer, who had just approached, and 
 before whom all the rest fell back. 
 
 " A spy, General," was the response. 
 
 " Why was he not brought to my quar- 
 ters?" 
 
 " Because Raines ordered a drumhead 
 court-martial." 
 
 " Release the man imtil I have conversed 
 with him." 
 
 Nettleton was released, and, as he de- 
 scended from the scaffolding, he was recog- 
 nized by General Price. 
 
 " We have met before ?" asked Price. 
 
 " Yes, General, we have," was the prompt 
 reply of Nettleton. 
 
 " What were you doing in my camp the 
 first time we met ?" 
 
 " Serving my captain, whom I love." 
 
 " Good ! What are you doing here now ?" 
 
 " That will require considerable explana- 
 tion," added Nettleton. 
 
 " Go on," said Price. 
 
 " Well, General, some dam skunk mur- 
 dered my captain, and when our troops left 
 Grand Prairie, on their retum to Springfield, 
 I remained behind to search for his body. 
 I am no spy." 
 
 " But you said you were a spy, serving 
 General Price," replied one of the soldiers 
 who had brought Nettleton to the rebel camp. 
 
 " How can you explain this ?" asked 
 Price. 
 
 " Well, ye see, General, SDss Sally — no, 
 I mean Miss Mamie — that's the captain's 
 sister — will break her poor heart and die 
 of grief if she can't leara something about 
 her brother. Them dam skunks as arrested 
 me told me that Captain Uayward was not 
 killed. Besides this, as nice a dam sk — I 
 mean as good a man as ever lived, and one 
 who loves Miss Sally — no — that Miss Sally 
 keeps running in my head — one as loves 
 Miss Mamie, is accused of murdering the 
 captain. But I know better, for I found 
 proof enough to convict the right one. I 
 wanted to tell Mamie that Sally — dam Sal- 
 ly — that her brother was Twt dead, and to 
 clear Lieutenant Wells and convict the one 
 as did the deed. So I told them sneaks as 
 how I xjcos a spy, in hopes they'd let me 
 alone." 
 
 " Would you give any information you 
 may have gleaned here, if I should set you 
 free ?" 
 
 " I ain't no such dam skunk, GeneraL 
 Honor is honor bright with me." 
 
 " What have you seen here ?" 
 
 " A lot of the damdest sapheads I ever 
 metf." 
 
 " If I should set you free, will you fight 
 against me ?" 
 
 " Like the devil, the first time we meet 
 in fair play." 
 
 " Why do you "wear that gray suit under 
 your uniform ?" 
 
 " Because captain's always getting himself 
 into some scrape, and I have to hunt him 
 up. Sometimes I have to go among the 
 Johnnies to do it, and then the blue ain't 
 healthy." 
 
 " Will you ever act as spy upon me if I 
 let you go ?" 
 
 " Not unless capt'n does. But Tm his 
 body-guard, and shall go everywhere he 
 does, if I can" 
 
 " What is your name ?" 
 
 " William Nettleton." 
 
 "Well, William, I think we shaU be 
 obliged to hang you." 
 
 " All right. General," answered Nettleton, 
 stepping upon the scaffolding again. " And 
 tliem dam sneaks shan't say they never 
 see'd a Yankee Klie bravely. But, Grcneral, 
 let me ask of you one favor. You dont 
 want to see a good fellow shot for what he 
 didn't do, and a murderer go clear, do you?" 
 
 " Certainly not." 
 
 " Then all I ask is, that you send this 
 
THE TESTIMONY. 
 
 16 
 
 handkerchief to Colonel Mann, and tell him 
 the murderer didn't wash in a basin in his 
 tent, but m the river, and then threw this 
 vriper away ; and that the guilty one has 
 two hearts, made with nails, on the sole of 
 each boot. And tell Sally — no, Mamie — 
 that the captam is — Lieutenant Wells — and 
 "Walker — the skunk, when I'm dead — that 
 Sally — no, capt'n, won't think of poor Net- 
 tieton — and — " 
 
 " Oh stop I stop ! William, I can never 
 recollect all this. You had better go your- 
 self and attend to this matter." 
 
 " What, General ? Do you mean it ?" 
 cried William, as he sprung from the scaf- 
 fold and gazed earnestly at Price. 
 
 " On one condition I will permit you to 
 go." 
 
 " Well, what is it ?" 
 
 " That as soon as you have given your 
 evidence in the court-martial which will 
 probably be ordered, you will return at 
 once and be hurig." 
 
 " I'll do if; I'm a loafer if I don't" 
 
 " You swear it ?" 
 
 " Yes, by the great jumping jingo, and 
 Sally Long's tearful eyes !" 
 
 " The guard will see this man safely be- 
 yond our lines," said Price, speaking to one 
 of his officers, " and furnish him a pass and 
 a horse. Let one of our men accompany 
 him near to the Federal lines, and bring 
 back the animal whioi William will ride." 
 
 Nettleton rushed forward, and grasping 
 the hand of Price, shook it violently, and 
 then exclaimed, as he took his leave : 
 
 " General Price, you ain't such a dam 
 sneak as I thought you was !" 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 TTie Court-martial and the Hostage. 
 
 The division which had been encamped 
 on Grand Prairie reached Springfield in 
 safety, and formed their temporary camp in 
 the field, back of the brick school-house, 
 which stands about a quarter of a mile to 
 the west of the new court-house. 
 
 The first order issued to the officers of 
 the battalion of Benton Cadets, fhe Thirty- 
 fifth and Thirty-seventh Illinois, was to 
 assemble at a given time, to act upon a 
 oourt-martial, at the quarters of Major D — , 
 Judge-Advocate, to try the case of Lieuten- 
 ant Edward Wells, charged with willful 
 murder of Harry Hayward, a captain in the 
 
 service of the United States of America, and 
 attached to the army of the Mississippi, now 
 under command of Major-General Hunter. 
 
 It was a sad day ! Lieutenant Wells was 
 a favorite with both officers and men of hi£ 
 command. He always had been mild as a 
 female, kind and benevolent — sacrificing his 
 own comfort for the good of the privates in 
 his battalion. True, some said that Wells 
 would not fight bravely — that he ought to 
 have been created a woman ; but everybody 
 gave him credit for being the kindest of the 
 kind. When first accused, there arose a 
 very bitter feeling against him. Captain 
 Hayward also was a great favorite with the 
 men. He was a stem but kind soldier 
 When the news of his brutal murder came 
 to the knowledge of his " boys," their first 
 cry was " revenge," and they natiu-ally sought 
 some one on whom to wreak their ven- 
 geance. At first Lieutenant Wells narrowly 
 escaped a summaiy fate, more especially as 
 it was whispered about camp that Wells had 
 become a suitor for the hand of the fair 
 Mamie Hayward, had been rejected by her, 
 and spmTied by the captain. But in a short 
 time it was given out that Mamie had con- 
 fessed her affection for Wells, and that Cap- 
 tain Hayward had remarked in the presence 
 of others, that he deemed Wells an honor- 
 able man, and would gladly favor his suit. 
 This turned the tide of feeling in favor of 
 the Ueutenant, and when the court-martial 
 was convened, nothing but a consciousness 
 of a soldier's duty prevented an open revolt, 
 or at least a most decided and forcible ex- 
 pression of feeling. But, trusting to the 
 judgment of the officers forming the cotut, 
 the soldiers decided to await the result. 
 
 Have our readers ever witnessed a trial 
 by court-martial? It is not like the ordi- 
 nary court of justice. First, the charge is 
 read, as thus : 
 
 " Lieutenant Edward Wells, ®f Company 
 
 H, Battalion of B C , is charged 
 
 with the willful murder of Harry Hayward, 
 a captain in the U. S. army. 
 
 "2d. — Specification. — 1st. In this, that 
 said Lieutenant Edward Wells, did, on the 
 night of the seventh day of November, 1861, 
 assassinate and murder said," etc. 
 
 Following this, in any case of the kind, 
 would be found a hst of " specifications," 
 setting forth in detail, all the chief events 
 connected with the crime. 
 
 The prisoner was brought to the tent of 
 
 Major D to answer to the charge. He 
 
 was VMy pale, yet perfectly composed ; and 
 
16 
 
 THE PRISONER OF THE MILL. 
 
 when the question was asked, the ready and 
 firm response was : 
 
 " Not Guilty !" 
 
 The Judge- Advocate, a noble-hearted but 
 jast man, informed the prisoner that he was 
 to act, not only as " prosecuting counsel," 
 but as " counsel " for the prisoner, and that 
 he (the Judge- Advocate) must give the pris- 
 oner the benefit of any doubt that might 
 arise in his favor. 
 
 To those of our readers not familiar with 
 thdj j)i odns operandi of a court-martial, we 
 woi^l ^ye the following information for 
 their b.e'tfefit : 
 j^lic door^ of the court are closed to all 
 
 tslders, *^^^pi1soner makes his plea, and 
 
 '{ -SP^K^^®^^^ ^^'^ brought foi^ward 
 
 ^piiHWo;' ,i)tit no cross-examination is 
 
 Ted." If a question is to be asked by 
 
 ©f the ^ELgcrs sitting ^upon the court, it 
 
 ^^e;jrrahced 'to wljfiug, and silently 
 
 l9_c,d' to the Judge- Advocate. If he sees 
 
 x^'put the question, it is done ; if not, it 
 'titrown aside. -,- 
 
 Wc will now proceed to a brief summary 
 of the trial. 
 
 " Lieutenant Edward Wells, you are 
 charged ^^^th the willflil murder of Harry 
 Hayward, a captain in the United State's 
 service. What is your plea. Guilty, or not 
 guilty f 
 
 " Not guilty !" was the decided response. 
 
 •• Let the first witness be called, George 
 Swasey, colored." 
 
 The person familiarly known as " Swasey's 
 nigger " took the stand. When brought for- 
 ward, he glanced aroimd as if fearful of 
 something, and then asked : 
 
 " Is Massa William Nettletum where he 
 can hear dis chile tell de trufF?" 
 
 " You have nothing to fear from any per- 
 son, if you do speak the truth, and ail the 
 truth," replied Major D. 
 
 " Well den, de fact am dis. I went to 
 see my gal. When I cum back, I met de 
 rebs. I hid behind a log. I see'd some 
 one stick a knife in massa cap'n, and I 
 heard him say : 
 
 " ' Oh ! Nettletum, you kill me 1' " 
 
 All questions were answered in the same 
 spirit, and it became evident that the negro 
 believed Nettleton the real murderer. 
 
 The next witness brought upon the stand 
 was Alibamo Hinton. She swore that Net- 
 tleton's tent was next to the one she occu- 
 pied — that he was in attendance upon her 
 and 3Iiss Hayward, by permission of Cap- 
 tain Hayward, and that Nettleton had twt 
 
 been out of her presence that night. In the 
 first part of the evening, Nettleton had re- 
 mained near her door ; in the latter part, he 
 had missed his captain, and had prostrated 
 himself on a rug near the tent entrance. 
 She had seen him there all night, as she had 
 not slept at all." 
 
 Miss Hayward was too much overcome 
 to appear as a witness, and was excused. 
 
 The next witness was Captain Hugk 
 Walker. 
 
 The feeling of the soldiers, to learn the 
 result of the trial, was intense, and by the 
 time Captain Walker was called to the stand, 
 some twenty or thirty had crept to the edge 
 of the tent, and endeavored to conceal them- 
 selves in the tall grass outside, to catch the 
 proceedings. But they were discovered by 
 Walker, who demanded that they should be 
 removed. This was done, and a guard 
 placed outside. 
 
 Captain Walker's oath was as follows : 
 
 " On the night of the seventh of Novem- 
 ber, I followed Captain Hajn\ard from hia 
 tent. It was at the time gradually becom- 
 ing dark. My motive in doing so I will 
 explain. As soon as it began to be rumored 
 that we were to meet Price, I observed a 
 change in the conduct of Captain Haj'ward. 
 He had ever been the center of attraction. 
 His tent "w^as the ' head-quarters ' of ' our 
 circle,' drawn thither by the natural gayety 
 of the captain, and the presence there of 
 ladies. But this feeling appeared to forsake 
 him, and on more than one occasion he 
 denounced the war as inhuman. Pardon.- 
 me ; I would not speak against the dead, 
 but I doubted the loyalty of the man, and 
 not his courage, and this it was which 
 induced me to follow him. 
 
 "I halted beneath a large tree, which 
 stood near the spot where the murder evi- 
 dently was committed. I saw the captain 
 seat himself upon the bank. At this time 
 it was quite dark, but I saw a shadow ap- 
 proaching. It passed near me, but I failed 
 to discover who it was. I first thought it 
 might be William Nettleton following %dfl 
 master. I listened attentively, however, as 
 the extreme caution of the iutruder attracted 
 my attention. In an instant I heard a 
 groan, a heavy fall, and a voice exclaim : 
 ' Oh, William, where are you ?' Nettleton, 
 I am murdered. Wells is the assassin /' " 
 
 A shudder ran through the court. Major 
 
 D dropped his head upon his hand and 
 
 was silent. The officers whispered together. 
 At last, a written question was handed to 
 
THE VERDICT. 
 
 n 
 
 the Judge- Advocate, which was propiptly 
 asked : 
 
 " Captain Walker, why did you not give 
 the alarm, or arrest the murderer yourself?" 
 
 " Sir," was the prompt reply, " the sequel 
 will show. It was dark ; I could not dis- 
 tinguish the features of any person two 
 yards distant. I feared he might escape if 
 lie should discover me. I therefore followed 
 the murderer cautiously, and he entered the 
 tent of Lieutenant Wells. He did not 
 strike a light, but I listened, and heard him 
 washing himself I kept close watch upon 
 him until morning, to make sure I was not 
 accusing an innocent man. No one entered 
 or left the tent. The one who washed his 
 hands, and left the bloody water, was Lieu- 
 tenant Edward Wells." 
 
 This evidence was conclusive. But no 
 reason could be assigned for the murder, 
 unless it was that Miss Hayward had been 
 heard to say that she never should mairy 
 and leave her brother so long as he lived, 
 and it-^had now become well known that 
 Wells was a suitor for her hand. Still, he 
 was a fiivorite with the captain, and even 
 on the day of his death Hayward had been 
 heard to say that he believed Wells a man 
 of honor, whose suit he would favor. The 
 only conclusion which could be arrived at 
 was, that Wells believed the love of a sister 
 was too strong to give immediate place to 
 the love of a wife, and he felt that, the bro- 
 ther once removed, he alone would become 
 the object of Miss Hayward's aflfectiou. This, 
 though but a flimsy pretext for so awful a 
 crime, was all that any one could offer in 
 the way of a surmise. 
 
 The trial was over. But one decision 
 could be given. It soon was rumored about 
 camp that sentence had been passed, and 
 that at four o'clock the next day it would 
 be read to the prisoner, in presence of the 
 whole division. 
 
 The night was wearing oil A form, 
 closely enveloped, approached the tent of 
 the commanding General. It proved to be 
 the lady Alibamo. 
 
 " What is the will of our ' daughter of 
 the army ?' " asked the General, kindly. 
 
 " It is that I may visit Lieutenant Wells, 
 and bring him to my tent. I desire that 
 an inter\dew should take place between 
 Miss Hayward and the doomed man." 
 
 The General seated himself at his table, 
 and penned a few words, which he handed 
 to Mrs. Hinton. She glanced at the con- 
 tents, and then falling at the feet of that 
 
 9 2 
 
 officer, she seized his hand, and kissing it, 
 sobbingly exclaimed : 
 
 " What ! without his chains ? God bless 
 you 1 God bless — " 
 
 " There, there ! Go ! go ! Don't make 
 me weep, or I won't forgive you," returned 
 the veteran warrior, as he turned away. 
 
 Alibamo left his tent, and in a few min- 
 utes entered her own, ua company with 
 Lieutenant Wells, now free from aU appa- 
 rent restraint. 
 
 When Wells entered the tent. Miss Hay- 
 ward was kneeling by the side of her camp 
 cot, her face buried in the folds of its cov- 
 erings. For several moments not a word 
 was spoken, and, as Wells gazed upon the 
 stricken sister, he trembled violently, while 
 a groan of intense anguish escaped him. 
 
 Alibamo advanced, and gently touching 
 her companion, said : 
 
 " Mamie, my darling, here is our friend, 
 Lieutenant Wells." 
 
 Mss Hayward did not raise her head, but 
 reached forth her hand toward Wells, whiclij, 
 quickly kneeling by her side, he took, and 
 pressed to his lips. 
 
 " Oh, heaven bless you !" he moaned. 
 " You do not believe me capable of the 
 di-eadful crime with which I am charged ?" 
 
 Miss Hayward tried to speak, but con- 
 vulsive sobis choked her utterance. 
 
 " No, my ever kind and dear friend," re- 
 plied Alibamo, " she does not believe you 
 guilty. Nor am I satisfied that Captain 
 Hayward has been killed. I am under the 
 impression that he was wounded and taken 
 prisoner by some rebels, who were lurking 
 near our camp." 
 
 " You liope for the best, and so do I ; but 
 have you any grounds for 'the formation of 
 such an opinion ?" asked Wells. 
 
 " Yes, and to me the best of evidence. 
 William Nettleton went in search of the 
 captain. If he was killed, William would 
 have found his body before this, and return- 
 ed to us with the intelligence. His contm- 
 ued absence convinces me that the captain 
 is still alive, and that his faithful friend Net- 
 tleton is at this moment following him. It 
 is this hope which gives me fresh courage, 
 and I believe a few days will see j'ou free, 
 and your name as untarnished as it should 
 be. I wished to tell you this, and I also 
 wished Miss Hayward to^ express to you 
 personally, her confidence ia your innocence ; 
 Sence, I brought you here. You may leave 
 us now, as my poor friend is too much agi- 
 tated to converse." 
 
18 
 
 THE PRISONER OF THE lirCLL. 
 
 "Wells was about to depart in silence, but 
 Miss HayTvard for the first time raised her 
 face, and her tearfiil eyes met his own. He 
 sprung forward, and kneeling before her, 
 pressed his lips to her white forehead, and 
 said : 
 
 " That look is worth to me years of hap- 
 piness. But, you can read my heart now. 
 "When I am proved innocent, then I will 
 speak the words which must not, till then, 
 pass my lips. God bless you !" 
 
 He arose to depart, but was met by Cap- 
 tain Walker, who had just entered the tent. 
 Walker cast a rapid glance around him, 
 and placing his finger upon his lips, enjoined 
 silence upon all. Wells stood, with arms 
 folded, sternly and suspiciously gazing upon 
 him, while Alibamo asked : 
 " What are your wishes, sir ?" 
 " To serve you and your friend," was the 
 reply, spoken ia a low voice, and with ap- 
 parent hesitation. 
 
 " It must be an important service wliich 
 gould render pardonable the fact, sir, of 
 you having, unannounced, and so rudely, 
 iatruded upon our privacy," said Mrs. Hin- 
 ton. 
 
 " It is an important service. No less than 
 
 the rescue of will you be seated ?" 
 
 The parties seated themselves in silence, 
 when Walker continued : 
 
 " You must pardon me if I speak plainly, 
 and directly to the point. It is necessary 
 that I should be brief." 
 " Proceed, sir." 
 
 " Miss Hayward," continued Walker, turn- 
 ing toward the lady, " I must give a few 
 words of explanation to you. I did love — do 
 love you now. You need not shrink from me. 
 You will, upon hearing my words, under- 
 stand me better. No man loves without 
 hope, until there arises between him and 
 the one beloved some impassable barrier. 
 The banier which arose to blast my hopes 
 was, your previous love, and the unfortu- 
 nate circumstance which has made me an 
 unwilling witness against one to whom, as 
 I think, your heart still clings." 
 
 " You will please be brief in comment, 
 and come as quickly as possible to the point 
 in question," replied Mrs. Hinton, as she ob- 
 served the agitation of Miss Hayward. 
 
 " I come to the point now, I know Miss 
 Hayward is very unliappy, and I would not 
 add to it. I would save her lover." 
 
 " To whom do you refer ?" asked Wells, 
 coldly. 
 
 " To you, sir," was the prompt reply. 
 
 " I can not claim the title you honor me 
 with, in connection with that lady. Besides, 
 she might not thank you for such a service." 
 " Oh, yes ! yes !" eagerly replied Miss 
 Hayward, as she gazed upon the speaker. 
 " Stay one moment. Miss Hayward," an- 
 swered Wells. " Let us first learn in what 
 manner my deliverance can be efiected. 
 Captain Walker, you can proceed." 
 
 " You speak very coldly, Lieutenant Wells, 
 to one who comes to offer you service. But, 
 before I proceed, I must exact a promise, 
 that if my proposition is not accepted, those 
 to whom my words are addressed will make 
 no exposure of the same." 
 
 There was a nod of assent, and Walker 
 proceeded : 
 
 " I will not deny the fact that solicitude 
 for Miss Hayward impels the act. But of 
 this no more. Lieutenant Wells, you are 
 unboimd and unwatched. Place your sash 
 across your breast, as worn by the oflicer 
 of the day. I will give you the counter- 
 sign, and thus you wUl be enabled to pass 
 the pickets, and make good your escape. 
 You can secure a safe retreat, and, after the 
 excitement of the mur — of tliis unfortunate 
 affair — has died away. Miss Hayward can 
 be apprised of your place of concealment, 
 and take such action in the case as her 
 judgment or heart may dictate." 
 
 A deathlike silence reigned for a moment, 
 during which rapid glances were exchanged 
 between the friends. At length WeUs 
 asked : 
 
 " Captain Walker, would not an escape 
 imply, upon my part, an acknowledgment 
 of the crime of which I am accused ?" 
 
 " It might, in the estimation of many. 
 But, you are generally believed guilty. What 
 mattei-s it what your actions imply to tJiem f 
 Your friends here, who have ab-eady made 
 up their minds, will merely look upon it as 
 a desire upon your part to escape a certain, 
 an unmerited, and a dishonorable death." 
 
 " And you will assist my flight ?" 
 
 " I will." 
 
 " And will you afterward convey Miss 
 Hayward to me if she will come ?" 
 
 -" With pleasure ; you but anticipate my 
 intended services." 
 
 Another rapid and significant glance 
 passed between JMrs. Hinton and Wells, 
 which was not observed by Walker. 
 
 " One thing more. Walker : do you be- 
 lieve me guilty of murder ?" 
 
 » H'm— I didr 
 
 " And turn .'" 
 
THE GUNPOWDER PLOT. 
 
 19 
 
 " I may have been mistaken. But, be 
 that as it may, I will assist your flight." 
 
 " Are you ready ?" asked Wells, rising. 
 
 " I wish you to return to your cell, and 
 when all is ready, say two or three o'clock, 
 I will come for you." 
 
 " But I will not go 1" was the firm reply. 
 
 Walker perceived his mistake, and quickly 
 added: 
 
 " As you please, sir." And turning, he 
 was about to leave the tent, when he was 
 confronted by the " officer of the day." 
 
 " Captain Walker," he said, sternly, " you 
 feel an especial interest in Lieutenant Wells. 
 I did not suppose so, but learned the fact 
 from your conversation. I am glad you do 
 feel so great a friendship for him. You 
 shall have opportunity to make it manifest. 
 You shall become his Pythias !" 
 
 " What do you mean, sir ?" 
 
 " This : that the sentence of Lieutenant 
 Wells will be read to-morrow afternoon at 
 four o'clock. In the mean time, you, as 
 his dear friend, do not wish to see him con- 
 fined, and wiU most cheerfully take his 
 place in the prison, and wear his chains. 
 If the lieutenant is present to-morrow at 
 four, you, as his hostage, will be released. 
 If he should escape, as you have advised, 
 of course you will be held as';an aider and 
 abettor in that escape ; and when you re- 
 ceive that punishment your guilt deserves, 
 you will have the consolation of knowing 
 that you suffer for the benefit of your very 
 dear friend ! Soldiers," commanded the of- 
 ficer, " place the irons upon Captain Walker, 
 and convey him to the guard-room in the 
 old log-building." 
 
 " Are you mad ? You dare not do it !" 
 yelled Walker, as he foamed with rage. 
 But the soldiers promptly obeyed the com- 
 mand, and Walker was taken from the tent. 
 
 " This indignity shall be avenged !" but he 
 was carried quickly forward, and the guard- 
 room door soon closed upon him. 
 
 " You will be at liberty, upon your parole 
 of honor, until to-morrow at four o'clock. 
 Lieutenant Wells." 
 
 The officers shook hands and separated. 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 The Chinpoicder Plot and the Conspirator. 
 The Mystei'y Unfolding. 
 
 Just as the fading twilight was yielding 
 to darkness, and beffire Lieutenant Wells 
 
 had been removed from his cell by request 
 of Alibamo, a scene occurred to which we 
 must revert. 
 
 The room in which Wells was placed was 
 in the wing of a log-house, just in the rear 
 of the brick school-house to which we have 
 alluded. Two doors led from this apart- 
 ment, one opening into the garden, the other 
 into the main building. This latter door 
 had been firmly secured. Near that open- 
 ing into the garden, was a small window, 
 the only one in the apartment. As the 
 guard was stationed at the door, escape 
 from the room was impossible. Surround- 
 ing this garden were a number of hedges 
 running in various directions, some of them 
 forming the street fence, while others orna- 
 mented the winding gravel walks. 
 
 As soon as it was quite dark, a person 
 closely enveloped and disguised, emerged 
 from among the tents, and passed cautiously 
 along in the still intenser darkness of the 
 hedge shadow. Ever and anon he would 
 pause and listen. Finally he reached the 
 further hedge, remote from the camp. He 
 paused a moment, and then gave a low and 
 peculiar whistle. It was immediately an- 
 swered, and two men joined the first 
 comer. 
 
 " Ai-e you ready ?" 
 
 " No !" was the answer. 
 
 " And why not ?" 
 
 " Because we have not received our pay." 
 
 " Is that the only reason ?" 
 
 " The only reason after you tiave given 
 us full instructions." 
 
 " Where is your powder ?" 
 
 " In the upper part of the garden, under 
 the hedge. We have secured eight twelve 
 pound shells which we took from that bat- 
 tery over yonder. Powder enough to blow 
 a mountaui to the devil." 
 
 " Well, here is a hundred apiece. When 
 the job is done, you will find as much more 
 in the hollow log that I pointed out last 
 night. Be careful and make sure work !" 
 
 " Well, your instructions 1" « 
 
 " You will follow the outer hedge. Creep 
 along with great caution, and make no noise. 
 There will be no danger, as the guard are 
 not on the north side .of the camp. When 
 you reach the log-building in the rear of 
 the brick school-house, you will observe a 
 small wing, or addition, extendmg to the 
 rear. At the back of this wing you will 
 find an excavation under the house suffi- 
 ciently large for your shells. Place them 
 in it, lay your train, and then apply the 
 
20 
 
 THE PRISONER OP THE MILL. 
 
 torch. But you must do this with great 
 caution, as a guard is stationed upon the 
 opposite side." 
 
 " Don't be alarmed. Any one near that 
 old log-shanty will go to kingdom come be- 
 fore to-moiTOw morning." 
 
 The trio then separated. 
 
 When Captain "Walker was seized and 
 chained by the soldiers, he made a despe- 
 rate resistance, but in vain. He soon occu- 
 pied the little room vacated by Lieutenant 
 "Wells. The door closed; he heard the 
 clanlcing of the heavy chains which secured 
 it, and left him in utter darkness. He 
 stamped, and raved and cursed. Suddenly 
 starting, and wildly clutching his throat, as 
 if some terrible thought had crossed his 
 mind, he groaned and sunk upon the floor. 
 
 " Fool ! oh ! fool that I was ! I thought 
 if I pretended friendship, and offered to assist 
 in his escape, all suspicion of this night's 
 work would de diverted from me. But now 
 — oh ! my God ! "What is the horn- ? Hark ! 
 I hear them working under the building ! 
 No ! it is not the men yet. It is too early. 
 I dare not tell the guard, for an acknowl- 
 edgment of any suspicion of such a plot 
 would be a confession of my guilt. Let me 
 search for some mode of escape !" 
 
 Walker crawled cautiously aroimd the 
 floor, but not a. crevice could be found. 
 'Finally, exhausted, he sunk down, giving 
 way to his utter despair. An hour — two 
 hom^ — dragged slowly by, which appeared 
 an age of misery to the wretched man. 
 
 " If I give the alarm, even saying that a 
 peculiar soimd attracted my attention, the 
 ruffians who are to do the work, will recog- 
 nize me, and I shall, thus implicated, sufier 
 an ignominious death ! What is that ? 
 Great God ! they tve at work ! But they 
 are making so much noise that the guard 
 will hear them, and I shall yet be saved !" 
 
 " Don't make quite so much noise in 
 there, if you please !" exclaimed the guard, 
 ^ he knocked upon the door where he was 
 stationed. 
 
 " It is not me !" yelled the frantic man. 
 " Some one is at the rear of the building, try- 
 ing to dig through — they want to kill me !" 
 
 " We will see about that !" replied the 
 guard, as he left his post, and walked to- 
 ward the spot indicated. 
 
 Walker fell upon his knees and ex- 
 claimed : 
 
 " Oh ! I am saved — saved that dreadful 
 ieath 1" 
 
 He bent down, and applying his ear to a 
 small crevice between the logs, where the 
 mud-mortar had fallen out, he listened. He 
 could distinctly hear the words spoken. 
 
 " Have you silenced that d — d guard ?" 
 was asked. 
 
 " Yes, cut his wizzen. No danger. Hurry 
 with the train of powder !" 
 
 " Gentlemen !" yelled Walker, " don't go 
 any ftulher. I am not the man 1" 
 
 " Quick — fire the train !" exclaimed a 
 voice outside. 
 
 A flash was seen, and then another said : 
 
 "Curse it, the train has failed. Throw 
 the torch among the shells, and then run !" 
 
 Walker waited to hear no more, but 
 throwing himself with all his violence against 
 the door, he set up a series of yells, which 
 made the camp ring. In a moment steps 
 were heard, the door was thrown open, and 
 Walker, livid with fear, and frantic, stag- 
 gered into the open air, gasping for breath. 
 When he had sufficiently recovered his 
 fright to listen, the commander of the squad 
 said : 
 
 " The powder-plot has been discovered, 
 sir. There is no further danger on that 
 head. But you will return to your cell !" 
 
 This order Walker was compelled to obey, 
 and he was again left in darkness, with 
 feelings better imagined than described. 
 
 The night wore slowly away. Lieutenant 
 Wells had retired to his own tent. His 
 calmness of demeanor certainly did not in- 
 dicate a guilty mind. Alibamo, too, was 
 wakeful, and strove by every possible kind- 
 ness to sustain the heart and hopes of her 
 suffering companion. Miss Nettie Morton, 
 who had so recently jomed their society, 
 was occupying a tent in company with iOss 
 Sally Long, near that of I^Irs. Hinton. They 
 also, were watchful — anxious for the mor- 
 row. But, perhaps, the most wretched 
 person in that camp was Captain Hugh 
 Walker. No officer would have dared to 
 place irons upon him and confine liim in a 
 rough cell, upon any slight pretext. Was 
 it not possible tliat something of a serious 
 character had been discovered against him ? 
 This surmise seemed to haunt him, for he 
 acted in a manner to indicate the wildest 
 apprehensions of danger. 
 
 Morning came at last, and slowly the day 
 advanced. A guard brought Walker his 
 breakfast, but the man refused to answer 
 any question. During the afternoon he 
 heard the beating of the drums, and the 
 
THE ACCUSER ACCUSED. 
 
 21 
 
 bugle-blast, which he well understood was 
 calling the division together for some impor- 
 tant purpose. He felt satisfied that one 
 object was the reading of tlie finding of the 
 court-martial in the case of Lieutenant Wells. 
 But, what part was Tie to play in the scene ? 
 This was the question which caused his 
 heart to beat with violence, as the chains 
 fell from the door of his prison, and he was 
 called forth. 
 
 He accompanied the guard in silence, 
 and soon entered the hollow square formed 
 by the three brigades of the division. Walk- 
 er glanced eagerly around, and there, stand- 
 ing beside the commanding General, was 
 Lieutenant Wells, with Miss Hayward lean- 
 ing upon his arm, and near them were their 
 female friends. But a few paces distant 
 were the two ruffians who had been en- 
 gaged in the powder-plot. All was silent. 
 The General advanced and said : 
 
 " Preliminaiy to other proceedings, I wish 
 to ask Captain Walker if he ever before saw 
 these two men ?" 
 
 The ruffians advanced, rattling their chains. 
 But Walker drew back, and with forced 
 calmness he replied : 
 
 " I never have !" He dropped his head, 
 gazing upon the ground. 
 
 The adjutant who held the sealed orders 
 of the court-martial by which Lieutenant 
 Wells had been tried, then advanced, and 
 was about to commence readiog the docu- 
 ment in his hand, when a series of yells 
 were heard, and in the distance was seen the 
 grotesque form of Nettleion, as he came 
 bounding along and bellowing : 
 
 " Stop the shootin' ! Stop the shootin' !" 
 
 It was well known throughout the army 
 that Nettleton had remained behind in search 
 of Captain Hayward. As he approached, 
 the most intense excitement was manifest. 
 Lieutenant Wells could scarcely control his 
 feelings, and would have rushed forward to 
 meet Nettleton, had not Mrs. Hinton gently 
 laid her hand upon his arm, begging him to 
 be calm. IVIiss Hayward clung closer to her 
 lover, as she hoped the news about to be 
 brought by her brother's friend would re- 
 lieve her agony of suspense. A half-sup- 
 pressed cheer broke from the soldiers, as 
 Nettleton burst into the square. 
 
 He paused for a moment, his breast heav- 
 ing, and his eyes glaring wildly. But an 
 instant was sufficient for him to discover 
 that Wells was yet alive, and that the ob- 
 ject of his suspicion also lived- He sprung 
 forward, and, without uttering a word, 
 
 seized Walker by the foot, which he at once 
 drew under his ann; then he as suddenly 
 bounded for the spot where the command- 
 ant was standing, dragging the foot along 
 with him. 
 
 Of course this sudden movement on the 
 part of Nettleton had thrown Walker \-io- 
 lently upon his head, and, although he 
 kicked, and squirmed and cursed, he was 
 dragged along as if he had been a child. 
 
 When Nettleton reached the commander, 
 he held the foot of Walker within a few 
 baches of that officer's face, and j^elled : 
 
 " Look ! look ! General — see them boots !" 
 
 Notwithstanding the intense anxiety felt 
 for the result of Nettleton's search, the ridi- 
 culous figure he presented in his eagerness, 
 and that of Walker who was twistiag and 
 struggling to escape, a general laugh ran 
 through the division, which was joined in 
 by the commander. Even Wells could not 
 suppress a smile. 
 
 " And what about those boots ?" asked 
 the commander, after silence had been re- 
 stored. 
 
 " Why, I've blacked them !" yelled Net- 
 tleton. 
 
 Another laugh was heard along the line. 
 
 " No doubt you have blacked them. But 
 what of this ?" 
 
 " Why, Giaeral, don't you see them ttoo 
 hearts made with nails, on the sole of that 
 boot ?" 
 
 " Certainly I see them. And what then ?" 
 
 Walker was now permitted to resume his 
 upright position, and he stood trembling 
 with fear and rage, as Nettleton went on to 
 relate his first suspicions of Walker, his 
 search for the body of Captain Hayward, his 
 finding the impression of the footprints 
 standing side by side in the mud, at the edge 
 of the stream, with the marks of two hearts 
 in the sole of each boot ; and then the find- 
 ing of the handkerchief in the water, which 
 Nettleton then produced. 
 
 The officer took the white linen witness, 
 examining it closelj^ and then said .- 
 
 " Here is the name of ' Walker,' in the 
 corner. William, did you find this near the 
 place where the murder was committed ?" 
 
 " Right by the spot where them two 
 boots stood !" replied Nettleton, pointing to 
 Walker's feet. 
 
 " I can explain this," exclaimed Walker, 
 " I went to the river that day to wash, and 
 I stood upon the bank to do so. I presume 
 I left the impression of my boots there at 
 that time. If I did not, was I not also 
 
23 
 
 THE PRISONER OF THE MILL. 
 
 present in the morning to examine the spot 
 where the murder had been committed ? 
 And is it a wonder that the impression of 
 my boots should be left behind ?" 
 
 " That is certainly true," replied the Gen- 
 eral. " But of the handkerchief?" 
 
 " It fell from my hands as I was washing, 
 and I did not take the trouble to recover 
 it." 
 
 " It is very probable !" replied the General. 
 " So j'ou perceive," replied Walker, as he 
 appeared to gain courage, " your trumped 
 up evidence has fallen to the ground ! I did 
 not expect a combination of both officers 
 and men against me, but I find it so. And 
 thej' wish to see ijw suffer for the bloody 
 deed done by that coward. "Elie only rea- 
 son I can assign for this persecution is, that 
 he is in favor with the ladies, and you, syco- 
 phants that you are, hope, through him, to 
 gain favor with his Mr companions. No 
 doubt some bargain to that eflPect already 
 has been effected !" 
 
 Captam Walker had by this time become 
 eloquent, and defiant. Nettleton, with his 
 too eager perceptions, had failed to foresee 
 the possible fallacy of his proofs, for hope 
 and prejudice together had prevented any 
 calm examination of his evidence. With a 
 sorrowful and troubled look, he turned away. 
 This gave Walker greater confidence, and, 
 in a loud but hoarse voice he cried : 
 
 " And now I demand justice !" 
 
 " Which you shall have," replied the Gen- 
 eral. " But first answer me ; how did this 
 handkerchief, which bears your name, and 
 which you confess to having used in the 
 stream, become bloody?" 
 
 That was another point of interest, and 
 Nettleton paused to listen attentively. 
 
 " I had a bleeding at the nose, and the 
 reason I threw the dirty thing away, was, I 
 did not think it worth washing !" 
 
 " Then some person must have recovered 
 it, washed it very carefully, and thrown it 
 into the stream again, for there is no blood 
 Tipqn itP' 
 
 Walker attempted a reply, but his utter- 
 ance failed. The General enjoined silence, 
 and then stepping forward he said, in a 
 voice sufficiently loud to be heard by all 
 present : • 
 
 " Captain Walker, I must sum up, before 
 you, the evidence of crimes you have com- 
 mitted, which have no parallel in the histo- 
 ry of tlie army, or of crimes which have ever 
 been, or attempted to be committed in any 
 civilized country. I would give you the 
 
 benefit of a court-martial, were there any 
 doubt of your guilt, and even tww may order 
 a trial, but it will only be a formal one. 
 You had better confess your guilt, here, be- 
 fore all — ask their pardon — make repara- 
 tion to those you have most uijured, and die 
 repentant !" 
 
 " I have nothing to confess !" responded 
 Walker, bitterly. 
 
 " Have you no fear of the revelations of 
 these two soldiers?" asked the General, 
 pointing to the chained niffians. 
 
 " I have no fear ! No doubt they have 
 been bribed to conspire with you ! But, vent 
 your spite ! Go on !" 
 
 " Then, Captain Walker, I will briefly 
 enumerate the circumstances which have 
 been developed, as well as t\ie facts. The 
 morning we left Grand Prairie you were in 
 command of the squad which escorted the 
 prisoner. Lieutenant Edward Wells. You 
 had not proceeded far when you were over- 
 taken by two men. It was a very easy 
 matter to secure an audience with you as 
 you were in the rear of the division. They 
 suggested that you should deliver Lieutenant 
 Wells to them, as their commander had an 
 especial spite against him, and wished to se- 
 cure his person. You asked these men (I 
 refer to the two ruffians now in chains and 
 standing by your side,) how they dared to 
 approach you on such a subject, and they 
 replied that they had tcitnessed your act the 
 evening previous, and that you need not A 
 put on airs with them ! You then requested ^ 
 these fellows to meet you the next evening 
 at the upper hedge. You instructed them 
 to secure a number of pounds of powder for 
 some purpose, which you would then ex- 
 plain. You met tliem the next evening. 
 You gave them instructions. They were 
 about to act upon them, when your outcries 
 from the coll in which you had been placed, 
 and which Lieutenant Wells had left only a 
 short time previously, attracted the attention 
 of the guard, and you were rescued. Prior 
 to this you had offered to assist Lieutenant 
 Wells to escape, but you wished him to re- 
 turn to his cell and temaiu until two or 
 three o'clock. The fiendish act was to be 
 committed between twelve and one. You 
 pretended friendship, that all suspicion of the 
 act might be diverted from you. Have I 
 spoken correctlj^ sir ?" 
 
 " No doubt you have spoken according 
 to the story of those ruffians!" replied 
 Walker. You can not bring against me 
 any respectable proof I look to a court for 
 
NETTLETON'S PAROLE OF HONOR. 
 
 sd 
 
 the justice which I have no reason to ex- 
 pect here." 
 
 " Look !" 
 
 Walker, who had been shaking like a 
 guilty wretch during the speech of the 
 commander, turned in the direction indicated. 
 The rough garb had fallen from the ruffians ; 
 their chains were thrown aside, and, to his 
 astonishment and liorror, there stood two of 
 the regimental Union officers, Adjutajtt 
 HrNTON, the husband of Alibamo, and his 
 I friend, C-u^TAnsr Clakk ! 
 
 Walker, who now saw how he had been 
 entrapped, and detected in his infamy, for 
 a moment was utterly unmanned. But, his 
 resolute nature soon triumphed over his 
 fear. Well realizing that penitence could 
 not save him, he sprung to his feet and 
 said : 
 
 " This is all a miserable, contemptible con- 
 spiracy — an effort to make out a case against 
 me to shield that woman's pet from the 
 consequences of his clearly proven crime. 
 Hayward is dead, and can not be made to 
 answer, else — " 
 
 "You lie, you dirty, nasty, murderin' 
 skunk !" 
 
 " What !" exclaimed a dozen voices. 
 
 " He lies ! the coward that stabs a man 
 in the dark! Hayward is not dead, but 
 lives, and will soon by his evidence send 
 
 ^0lmM 
 
 this mm-derer to kingdom come !" 
 
 With a shriek Miss Hayward bounded 
 forward, and fell at the feet of Nettleton, 
 grasping his hands. Wells, who had borne 
 bravely up until this moment, covered his 
 face, and wept tears of joy and of relief 
 from the imputation of crime. Sally Long 
 sprung to the side of Nettleton, and, throw- 
 ing her arms around his neck she gave him 
 a hearty kiss, which caused him to roll up 
 his green eyes, and aj^pear in almost as 
 much agony as if he had been struck in the 
 stomach with a cannon-ball. The word 
 was soon passed, and the soldiers, catching 
 the fire, made the very welkin ring with 
 their shouts, while the band chimed in with 
 the stin-ing strain : " HaU to the Chief 1" 
 
 A Live Hero ■ 
 
 CHAPTER Vn. 
 
 The Betrograde Army Move- 
 ment 
 
 The villain Walker was returned to his 
 lonely cell. Lieutenant Wells was released 
 from all restraint The soldiers dispersed 
 
 to talk about the strange turn events had 
 taken, but the center of attraction was Net- 
 tleton. He was seated iu front of the Hin- 
 ton tent. Close beside him was Miss Hay- 
 ward, kneeling, and gazing mournfully into 
 his face, while Alibamo, Wells, the General, 
 Nettie Morton, Sally Long, the officers who 
 had composed the court-martial, the especial 
 friends of the parties, and as many of the 
 soldiers as could get within hearing distance, 
 were earnestly listening to the narrative of 
 the "body-guard." 
 
 Nettleton went on to relate his meeting 
 the rebel scouts, and the fact of their having 
 informed him that Hayward had only been 
 wounded and conveyed toward Wilson's 
 Creek, by a party attached to the command 
 of Lieutenant-Colonel Price. 
 
 [The reader will mark the distinction 
 between Lieutenant-Colonel Price, who was 
 a ruffian guerrilla, and had broken his parole 
 three times — an act repudiated by all honest 
 soldiers of either army — and General Sterling 
 Price, who, although a rebel, always had 
 acted in a gentlemanly and humane manner 
 to all prisoners of war.] 
 
 After listening to the story of William, 
 the General drew from his pocket the note 
 which had been foimd at the Ozark bridge, 
 signed " Charles Campbell." This note 
 must have been written but a few moments 
 before the fight took place. The date would 
 be just two days after Hayward had receiv- 
 ed the assassin's stroke, giving about the 
 proper time for the wounded man to be 
 carried from Grand Prairie to Ozark, at 
 which latter place Lieutenant-Colonel Price 
 had formed a temporary camp. The writer 
 spoke of a wounded man in a boat, and 
 against whom Price had an especial spite. 
 This confirmed the conviction that Hayward 
 had been taken thither for the especial grat- 
 ification of Price's fiendish propensities. 
 The note also said that he bore the marks 
 of a captain's rank, and, in his delirium, 
 spoke of " Net — " which might have refer- 
 red to the young lady, Nettie Morton, whom 
 he possibly might have seen in the distance, 
 upon the bank, as the boat neared the spot 
 where she was standing, or, as seemed more 
 probable, that the woimded captain was 
 calling upon Nettleton. At all events, it 
 was decided that the person of whom Charles 
 Campbell had written, was no other than 
 Captain Hayward. It is true, he was still 
 almost insensible from his wounds, and was 
 near the camp of his most unforgiving en- 
 emy, but, there was a friend at hand — an 
 
24 
 
 THE PRISONER OF THE MttL. 
 
 enemy in arms — but a friend to the wound- 
 ed and helpless soldier, as are all true men 
 — and he had written that " he would save 
 him !" 
 
 " Why should we not hope ?" asked Ali- 
 bamo, as she clasped her friend Mamie in 
 her arms. 
 
 " And why should we not act ?" cried 
 Wells, as he clutched the hilt of his sword. 
 
 " Yes, we will act," yelled Nettleton, as he 
 sprung up, and appeared ready for instant 
 departure. 
 
 " Go, William ; follow the stream from 
 Ozark, until you find some trace, and then 
 return to us," said jMiss Hayward, eagerly. 
 
 Nettleton turned his gaze upon Miss Sally, 
 for a moment, and then, as if ashamed of 
 his hesitation, or of his weakness, in exhib- 
 iting a7iy symptoms of love, he started with 
 a bound, exclaiming : 
 
 " I'm off. Good-by, all !" 
 
 He had proceeded, however, but a few 
 steps when he halted, and, scratching his 
 head, his countenance assumed a most woful 
 expression, and his eyes rolled wildly about. 
 
 " What is the matter, William ?" asked 
 Wells. 
 
 " Got to go father way /" was the melan- 
 choly reply. 
 
 "Why so?" 
 
 " 0, jusf a bit of— fun— that's all !" 
 
 " Well, tell us what it is, Nettleton ?" 
 
 " I can't ! It will break Tier heart !" he 
 replied, pointing to Sally. 
 
 " So it would, William, if any thing dread- 
 ful should happen to you !" replied Miss 
 Long, as she dropped her ej-es to the 
 ground. 
 
 " There, didn't I tell you so ?" replied the 
 faithful seiTant, his mouth gapuigiy and his 
 eyes expanding. 
 
 " William," asked Wells, " do you really 
 loxe Miss Long ?" 
 
 " XtOXQ her, lieutenant ? That ain't no 
 name for it. Why, can't you see yourself 
 that she's the sweetest darn sk — no, I mean 
 the nicest critter in the world — exceptin' 
 Miss Mamie !" 
 
 "And does she love you, William?" asked 
 Alibamo, smiling in spite of herself at the 
 tableau enacting before her. 
 
 '■'^ Of course I do !" replied Sally, proudly 
 and triumphantly, as if a victory had been 
 woti. 
 
 " There — there ! Do you hear that ? Now, 
 don't you pity me ? I believe I am the most 
 ugly cuss in the world. I never thought 
 anybody would ever love me, and now I 
 
 find out the gal as I wants most is just the 
 one as does love me ! Oh Lordy, I'm sick, 
 I do believe !" 
 
 " AU right I" Wells responded, with a 
 smile. 
 
 " All right 1 Not by a blasted sight, sir I 
 Did you think it all right when you loved 
 Miss Mamie, and thought you had to swing?" 
 
 " What ! You talk in riddles. Explain." 
 
 " Fte got to be hung !" he roared, but, 
 whether with pain or delight, none could 
 tell. 
 
 " Why, you didn't have any thing to do 
 with hurting the captain ?" cried SaUy, as 
 she advanced toward her beloved. 
 
 Nettleton gazed at her an instant with a 
 most singular expression, and then replied : 
 
 " Miss Long, never let suspicion cross 
 that delicate bo — mind of yours, but like 
 the true turkle-dove, put your trust in the 
 uprighteousness of your future lord and 
 master, wtiat is to be hanged all on account 
 of the first time you wrapped them delicate 
 aims of youm arovmd my long neck." 
 
 " William, what do you mean by being 
 hanged?" asked the General. 
 
 Nettleton then went on to relate the 
 agreement he had made with Price, to re- 
 turn, and undergo the punishment which 
 was about to be inflicted upon him when 
 that General interfered. He declared his 
 intention of returning at once, a^ his " ftir- 
 lough" had run out, and as a " man of liODipr"| 
 he must return. 
 
 " And do you really intend to return ?"' 
 asked the General. 
 
 '' Of course I do !" replied William, with 
 something of scorn and much of pride in his 
 tones. 
 
 - " William, think for a moment. You ar& 
 now safe. You are with one who loves you, 
 and with whom you can be happy. Why 
 wiU you return ?" 
 
 " General, don't argue this point with me. 
 I said I would come back, and dam me if 
 I don't !" Nettleton started, after having 
 shook the hand of liis friends. 
 
 " Stay a moment, Nettleton," said the 
 General. " I have a letter from General 
 Price with regard to you." 
 
 Nettleton paused and listened, as the 
 commander, opening the envelope, read : 
 
 " Camp near Cassville, Nov. 12th, 1861. 
 
 " To General , greeting : 
 
 ' " A prisoner of war was released from our 
 camp, and permitted to return to Springfield, 
 on the 9th. It was at first thought that he 
 was a spy, as he had been sewi in and near 
 our camp before, and he was about to suffer 
 
 1 
 
 h ''■^ 
 
 f.V 
 
MURDER AND ARSON^ 
 
 85 
 
 death upon the scaffold, Tvhea I saw and 
 questioned him. I became convinced that 
 he was no si)y, but a faithful servant and 
 friend, searching for his captain, whom he 
 loved. 2' ordered his release. I gave him a 
 parole of honor. He promised to return that 
 the sentence of the ' drum-head court' could 
 be carried into effect upon him, after he had 
 given the evidence he possessed, which he 
 declarediw^as necessary to save an innocent 
 man. I admire his truthfulness. Should 
 he be determined to return, of which I 
 have no doubt, you will read this letter, 
 which releases William Nettleton from any 
 further obligation. He will remain with his 
 friends, and be happy. 
 " Signed by the A. A. A. G. 
 
 " For the Commander, Price." 
 
 The effect upon the gallant fellow of the 
 reading of this letter, was somewhat singu- 
 lar. He stood for a moment gaping around 
 upon the spectators, as if he had been caught 
 in some mean act. Then a smile came 
 over his face like sunhght creeping over a 
 rugged mountain top. Soon his counte- 
 nance looked like a newly risen sun — fairly 
 blazing with blushes. Then, with a wild 
 toJioop, which rung out "like a Signal, he 
 sprung into air, rattled his feet together, and 
 once on earth again, bounded off like a great 
 moose, for the nearest thicket, where to in- 
 dulge his " feelings " without restraint. 
 
 The crowd dispersed in good-humor, to 
 talk over the strange events of an hour. If 
 ^it was happier than all, it was that 
 Mamie, whose joy at the proven in- 
 nocence of her friend and lover was too 
 intense for words. In her heart a new hope 
 had also arisen, that her dear brother would 
 ^^^feJIC restored to her arms, and thus fill 
 up The cup of her blessings to the brim. 
 
 It had been decided by the ft-iends of 
 Hayward, that a search for the captain 
 would be useless, but it was hoped that 
 Charles Campbell would give some informa- 
 tion which would lead to his discovery, or 
 that Fall-leaf, a celebrated Indian scout, who 
 had now been absent many days on the very, 
 line of the enemy's march, would return, 
 with some tidings, by which the actions of^ 
 the captain's anxious friends should be gotii; 
 emed. 
 
 The Army of the Mississippi, haviiff' 
 passed from ^^gmont's command to thafcjroP' 
 General Hui^HRhad been ordered to faff 
 back from Sprogfield, in two columj|||. 
 The one by the way of the Osage and Wirfi^ 
 saw to Tipton, Mo., on the line of the mi^pij,' 
 Pacific road, and the other by way of Leba- 
 non, on the main road between Springfie)jS 
 
 and Rolla, the south-western branch of the 
 same road. Each place, in distance from 
 Springfield, was about one hundred and 
 twenty -five mUes. _,'^ 
 
 The march of the division to which Cap- 
 tain Haywaxd's friends were attached, which 
 wa^ under the command of the brave Sigel, 
 was commenced on the morning of Novem- 
 ber 20th. That division formed the rear of 
 the entire army. It proceeded by the RoUa 
 turnpike. 
 
 Notliing ef note transpired until the di- 
 vision Was ascending the rolling hill about 
 two miles before reaching Lebanon, when a 
 horseman, his face and head streaming with 
 blood, rode rapidly along the lines, ex- 
 claiming : 
 
 " Fight in front ! Fight m front !" 
 He halted for no one to question him, but 
 kept on his way. No guns were heard, and 
 many expressed the opinion that it must be 
 a strange fight. But, as a necessary pre- 
 caution, the infantry-men were hajted, their 
 pieces loaded, and bayonets fix:ed. The 
 artillery was charged, and flags unfurletL 
 As the troops ascendtdjhe hill, and looljea 
 in vain for a foe, the %;}estion was asked : 
 " Where is the fight ?" ' ^ ,_ \^Jy ::<t^i 
 
 This was soon settled, ^_ angttf8t''a[^ss^;''' ' 
 ger rode up and informed tL-i^^heraVjliatai^ , 
 party or squadron of rebel ca^lry, number^. .'' 
 ing about four hundred^^had ^tacked >'littl A*" f>^ 
 band of "'home 'guards,'' of m^ thir,t^' 
 which had been collected in a valley sojifi 
 twenty miles south of Lebanon, on the main 
 road, in a place called " Bohannan IVIUls 
 valley." Most of the thirty " home gward " 
 hadjbeen killed, wounded or dispersed by 
 the- guemllas. Then all fam"Ilie3 in that 
 vicinity ^owi/to entertain Union proclivi- 
 ties, '^wgre^^sited at the dead of night. 
 '!;^^Iurder*and arson" was the cry. Many 
 'poor creatures soon were in the agonies of 
 d^ath. Husbands, who had rushed from 
 |c6n6aalmei^t to defend their wives, had been 
 ^"clpy^to the earth; children ran shrieking 
 "tojaJi*!- fro, only to be dashed to pieces, bj: 
 hi^i savages of the Mssouri Mountain. It 
 ;as a carnival of lust and blood, over ^■^'hich 
 [e^ his);orian ever must dwell in horror. 
 'Ajgil^ yet, these fiends in human shape were • 
 "il^ected by the segis of the " Confeder|rt6^'' • 
 flag! ,;"'■• 
 
 'Such was the scene depicted .^j the tne^' 
 
 senger, when j-he* division w^^alted^tvna a 
 
 consultation took place. v€t ' was detided 
 
 [that, while the main army*went forward, 
 
 two companies of infantry, a section of 
 
26 
 
 THE PRISONER OF THE ^HLL. 
 
 artillery, and a company of cavalry, should 
 be detached to proceed at once to " Bohan- 
 nan Mills," to protect the helpless families, 
 and, if possible, to punish the rebel horde 
 which had committed such awful crimes 
 against humanity. 
 
 CHAPTER Vni. 
 
 Gone ! — The Signal Song. 
 
 We must now take the reader back to 
 Springfield. It was one week after the ex- 
 posure and confinement of Walker, and 
 something like a month before the army 
 had commenced its retrograde movement, 
 as described in the foregoing chapter. 
 
 Walker, after the first paroxysm of his 
 rage was over, settled himself down to think. 
 Although he had shown a bold front at first, 
 his final conviction drove from his heart all 
 resolution, and he evinced the most abject 
 cowardice — the cowardice of conscious guilt, 
 which makes the strongest tremble. 
 
 But Walker was not a man to sit quietly 
 in his cell, and submit to his fate. His mind 
 having been settled in the conviction that 
 certain death would follow, he began to form 
 his plans of action. To arrive at any defi- 
 nite conclusion was no easy matter, as he 
 was chained, and a double guard placed 
 around his quarters. Yet he had hope — 
 time was given and all might yet be right. 
 He learned that he was not to be tried by 
 a division court-martial, but would be re- 
 moved to St. Louis, in order that a general 
 court mighty act upon his case. He also 
 learned that it would be at least a month, 
 before the army would take up its march. 
 Thus he had time — time precious to him — 
 for, like all shrewd villains, he had his con- 
 federates, even in the army as well as out of 
 it, and to these he now looked for his bodily 
 safety. 
 
 It was the third night of his incarcera- 
 tion, that, springing to his feet, he listened 
 intently. There were three distinct taps on 
 the door. 
 
 " The rescuers — the gang — I'm saved !" 
 he muttered, as he gave thi-ee taps on the 
 door, in response. 
 
 " What's the word ?" was asked from the 
 outside. 
 
 " 0. 8. A. and the Bars !" answered Walk- 
 er. "And you?" 
 
 " Good ! Union against oppression !" 
 
 "To-night ?" asked Walker, with eagerness. 
 
 " No, the pal on the other side am't for 
 Union. Can't before day after to-morrow. 
 Jim goes on then, and though it ain't my 
 turn, I think I can get pony No.^ drunk, 
 and the job can be done. I'll trj^." 
 
 " Be cautious. Trust no one without the 
 word. It was the neglect on my part, think- 
 ing it all right, to demand the ^\ words,' 
 which brought me into this scrape !" 
 
 The "rounds" approached, and the senti- 
 nel was relieved. 
 
 Nothing of importance transpired in 
 camp for the next three days. An unusual 
 quiet prevailed. It is true, there was much 
 talk upon the subject of the attempted, mur- 
 der, and many expressions of bitterness 
 against Walker. Some even went so far as 
 to suggest the hanging of that wretch before 
 the army left Springfield, lest he should es- 
 cape. None were more vehement than a 
 repulsive looking soldier, known throughout 
 camp as " ugly Jim !" He stated that he 
 had been on guard only a few nights before 
 in front of the prisoner's quarters, and that 
 he had eveiy reason to believe Walker was 
 trying to escape, adding that he wished he 
 had been satisfied of the fact, as he would 
 have been glad of an opportunity to put a 
 bullet through the murderous scoundrel. 
 
 The party had been drinking freely, and 
 had become exceedingly communicative. 
 One of the soldiers, whose post wasjjn^^^ 
 on guard duty that night — that ib;-!n front \ 
 of the prisoner's door — swore he v, ould shoot I 
 Walker if he could find any pretext. I 
 
 " Tou have no spite against 1/im," ex- 
 claimed ugly Jim, "and/ have. "I. 
 take the matter in hand. I Avill stand ^ ; 
 guard, and if the villain attempts to move, 
 I'll riddle him, sure as Potosi lead mines." ■ 
 " Enough said. I am on the second re- 
 lief I go on at seven and off at nine ; 
 again at twelve and oflf at two. This will 
 be your time." 
 
 " Good ! I shall be on hand !'' 
 Ugly Jim then approached the tent of 
 Miss Hayward, and requested an audience 
 alone with that lady. It so happened that 
 she was alone, Alibamo having gone to visit 
 her husband, and Sally being at the time 
 strolling through the camp with Nettleton. 
 " If you wish to learn i^ig^e particulars 
 about your brother, I thin^^pi can do so," 
 said Jim, in a tone of greaWmdness. 
 
 " Oh ! in what manner ?" asked Miss 
 Hayward, eagerly. y 
 
 " I don't exactly know. But I will tell 
 you what I do know. You see I am on 
 
mCTION OF MISS HAYWARD. 
 
 27 
 
 g:nard to-night from twel^ till two, over the 
 cell of Walker. I don't&e the villain any 
 way, but, he told me if f .woiild get you to 
 come to him, he would t^iiyou all he knows 
 of the matter !" -^ 
 
 " Certainly I will go. j^all Alibamo, and 
 we will go together, at ^ce !" 
 
 " I will," answered J^, as he turned to 
 depart. Then pausing, he added : 
 
 " Miss Hayward, now I recollect that 
 Walker said you must come alone. He de- 
 clared he would not .commit himself by 
 speaking before any on§,", 
 
 " I dare not go aloneSiV 
 
 " Poor child !" exc^imed Jim, as he 
 wiped his eyes. " Do ^ou think you can 
 be alone when this old soldier, as folks call 
 ' ugly Jim,' is near you ? I know my face 
 is ugly, but I don't think ~my heart is ! Be- 
 sides, you won't see the wjetch himself. You 
 will only talk to him through a crack be- 
 tween the logs, and I shall be as close to 
 you as Walker will allow. Of course he 
 wont let Tne hear what he says, but I shan't 
 let you be out of my sigkt, so there will be 
 no danger !" 
 
 " Why can we not go at once ?" asked 
 Miss Hayward. 
 
 " Because I don't go on post until twelve 
 o'clock, and the other guard wouldn't let 
 you speak to him." 
 
 " Then I will come at quarter past twelve. 
 But I shall rely upon j'ou for protection !" 
 
 " You may do that, miss. And I really 
 think you do right. I know Walker is a 
 very bad man, but' he has got to die, and 
 may be he wants to make a confession to 
 relieve his mind, and to ask your pardon. 
 And I always think it best to give a dying 
 man a chance to relieve his mind, and con- 
 fess." 
 
 " You may expect me !" 
 
 Jim bowed, and left the tent. 
 
 Twelve o'clock came ; the guard was re- 
 lieved, and " ugly Jim " had taken the place 
 of his sick friend, in front of Walker's prig-, 
 on. All was quiet, save the clanking of a 
 chain, a few hurried whispers, and the open^.' 
 ing and closing of a heavy door, which 
 sounds were in close proximity to Walkers, 
 dungeon. The words " C. S. A. and Bars '^ 
 were answered by " Union against Oppres-'^ 
 sion,^' and two dark forms glided to condeaL-,' 
 ment beside the thorn hedge, while ^^ 
 guard remained at the door. . ^ 
 
 The evening dragged slowly along fo!j^ 
 Miss Hayward. A hundred times she hsidi 
 
 almost resolved to communicate to her 
 friends the fact of her intended visit to 
 Walker, and to ask their advice, and, if 
 need be, to request that some one should 
 follow in the distance, to lend assistance, 
 should any be required. But what had she 
 to fear? Walker was secure in his cell, and 
 one of the faithful guard had promised his 
 protection. Besides, she had promised to go 
 alone. If she did not, it would imply sus- 
 picion (fi an honest soldier. Walker might 
 also ask if she had come entirely unattended, 
 and how could she answer him ? 
 
 Miss Hayward was naturally timid, and 
 by no means self-reliant. When the news 
 of the supposed death of her brother reached 
 her, she was almost paralyzed with grief. 
 But, now that hope had filled her heart, she 
 began to nerve herself to the task of unre- 
 mitting search, even though she must en- 
 counter the greatest dangers. 
 
 The hour of twelve arrived. Closely 
 muflied in a cloak, she crept from her tent, 
 and then paused to listen. She heard noth- 
 ing, save the slow ami regular breathing of 
 the sleepers, and the violent beating of her 
 own heart. She started, but her steps seemed 
 to fail her, and she leaned against a tree for 
 support. The thoughtflpf her dear brother, 
 and the probable unraveMng o¥ tl^e mystery 
 whidi surrounded his attempteflj^psassina- 
 tion, and his present fate, gave her^^ewed 
 courage, .and she sped onward. In a few 
 moments she had cleared the camp, and 
 arrived in the center of the garden, where 
 stood the doomed man's prison. As she 
 nep,f^d the door, the euard asked : 
 , '^ Is that you. Miss Hayward ?" 
 
 " It is !" came the low response. 
 
 " Approach and fear nothing." 
 , She had barely reached the threshold, 
 When two forms, darting from beneath the 
 hedge, threw a heavy blanket over her head, 
 th]as entirely smothering any attempt, on her 
 part, to give the alarm. Who and what her 
 "Raptors were, she could not divine, or what 
 rdigbt be their purpose. Strange to say, her 
 reason did not forsake her. She felt her- 
 fm borne rapidly along, but not a word 
 was spoken. It appeared to her that hours 
 ..pfissed by, and she even longed to hear some 
 word uttered which might give a clue to the 
 inllentions of those in whose power she was, 
 or to throw some light upon the subject, as 
 to whom her captors were. The blanket, 
 ^vrhich was very heavy, alitiost causing suf- 
 focation-, had been removed, and a lighter 
 one substituted. 
 
S8 
 
 THE PRISONER OP THE MILL. 
 
 At length the parties halted, and, seating 
 themselves upon the ground, the covering 
 was removed, and Miss Hayward was per- 
 mitted to gaze around her. Her eyes first 
 met those of Captain Walker. She shud- 
 dered, and turned away. Then glancing at 
 his two companions, she at once recognized 
 " ugly Jim," and a person known in camp 
 as " stupid Dick," both of whom had served 
 as Union soldiers, for a long time, under 
 Walker. As her eyes met those of " ugly 
 Jim," she exclaimed : 
 
 " Oh I you will protect me ?" 
 
 A laugh was the only reply. 
 
 " I trust Miss Hayward will permit rm to 
 become her protector !" said Walker, in an 
 assumed tone of kindness. 
 
 Miss Hayward did not reply, but gazed 
 around her. She was in a wild spot. She 
 was seated beside a lovely stream of water, 
 in a deep valley, while high on either hand 
 were ragged hills or mountains. She knew 
 the coimtry for at least ten or twelve miles 
 from Springfield in all directions was quite 
 level, and she judged she must be near the 
 Ozark country, the first range of whose 
 ridges she had frequently seen from that 
 point. 
 
 " Does not the lovSly Miss Hayward deign 
 a reply to her most devoted lover ?" asked 
 Walker. , • ' 
 
 " What was your purpose in tearing me 
 from my friends, and conveying me here ?" 
 asked Miss Hayward. 
 
 " A pardonable one, I think. My life 
 was forfeited in the Federal camp, and per- 
 sonal interest required me to depart. I 
 could not think of leaving without you, and 
 so I resorted to a little stratagem. My love 
 for you must plead my excuse." 
 
 " But I have told you, Captain Walker, 
 that I could not love you. Do you suppose 
 after what has transpired that I could en- 
 tertain any other feeling toward you than 
 detestation ?" 
 
 " I am aware of that. But, when you 
 know me better, I am sure you will consent 
 to reward my devotion. I am going to 
 convey you to your brother !" 
 
 " Then I will thank you, at least !" ex- 
 claimed Miss Hayward. 
 
 " Nothing else ?" 
 
 She shuddered. 
 
 " I must be plain with you," continued 
 Walker. " I am not what I have seemed 
 to be while with the Federals. I am a col- 
 onel in the Confederate army, but I accepted 
 a commission in the so-called Union army, 
 
 that I might ftjmish information to my Gen- 
 erals. Or, if you like the term better, you 
 may call me a spy. These two soldiers 
 have been with me for the same purpose. 
 And Ave were not alone. There are now, 
 in the army of the Jlississippi, over three 
 hundred privates, and over twenty officers, 
 who jrretend loyalty to the Federal cause ; 
 and I think, when his sister has become the 
 wife of Captain Walker, or Colonel Brovra, 
 he may be induced to join us !" 
 
 " Will you take me to my brother?" 
 
 " On one condition, I will." 
 
 " And this condition ?" 
 
 " !Miss Hayward, I love you with all the 
 ardor of my soul. You have become neces- 
 sary to my very existence — are a part of 
 my life. When you spurned me, it drove 
 me frantic, and I am so now. Beware — oh ! 
 beware how you turn this heart, which is 
 yet pure, so far as you are concerned, into 
 a hell of furies ! Pity me ! Oh ! dear Miss 
 Hayward, pity me !" 
 
 " But my brother — what of him ?" 
 
 " I will tell 3'ou of your brother when 
 you have answered my questions." 
 
 " Proceed, sir!" 
 
 " Do not speak so coldly. I will be frank 
 with you. Your brother is a prisoner — not 
 in the Confederate camp, but in a secure 
 place, on the very stream beside which you 
 are now sitting. The murmuring and sing- 
 ing of these very waters will, ere two hours, 
 greet his ears with the same strain. War- 
 ble those strains to which I have so often 
 listened while in camp, ahd which stirred 
 my soul, and they will be borne direct to 
 your brother's hearing, to relieve his brain 
 perhaps from the insanity which now en- 
 chains him 1" 
 
 ;' Insanity !" echoed Mamie. " My broth- 
 er insane ?" 
 
 " He is a raving maniac ! And but one 
 thing can restore him !" 
 
 " Oh wretched, horrible news I What 
 can I do to save my brother ?" 
 
 " You are the only person who can save 
 him. Nor is the task a hard one. Only a 
 few miles from here is a Confederate camp. 
 A chaplain is in attendance. He Avill per- 
 form the ceremony which will make you 
 irrevocably and securely mine. Go with 
 me. Become my wife, and to-moiTow I 
 will take you to your brother, and we will 
 not only restore his shackled feet to liberty, 
 but his shattered senses to reason. We 
 alone can do it. Can you assume the re- 
 sponsibility of a refusal ?" 
 
TWO ROGUES FALL OUT. 
 
 «9 
 
 Miss Hayward remained sileat for a few 
 moments, and then gazed alternately at the 
 three villains. An unnatural fire lit up her 
 eyes. At length she said : 
 
 " Captain Walker, I do not know but you 
 are even now deceiving me. You may not 
 know any thing about where my brother is." 
 
 " Ask these soldiers," replied Walker. 
 
 Miss Hayward turned her eyes upon 
 them. 
 
 " The captain speaks right," answered 
 Jim. " He does know where your brother 
 is. He is crazy and is chained in the — " 
 
 " Silence 1" commanded Walker. " Do 
 you believe, Miss Mamie ?" 
 
 " I must believe the worst," answered 
 Miss Hayward. " Soldiers," she added, 
 turning to the soldiers, " do you believe in 
 the truth of Captain Walker's profession of 
 love for me ?" 
 
 " I should like to know why not !" re- 
 plied Jim, doggedly. " Nobody could Tielp 
 loving you ; even I loves you, but I know it 
 ain't no use, and so I don't say nothing !" 
 
 " What have pou to say ?" asked Mamie, 
 turning to the other soldier. 
 
 " Lord, Miss Mamie, I allers loved you, 
 but ' stupid Dick ' never thinks of such as 
 you, and so I acted mean just to spite !" 
 
 " Gentlemen," cried Miss Hayward, spring- 
 ing to her feet, " listen to me. You have 
 wronged me deeply, by aiding this wretched 
 villain, yom; captain, to abduct me. I de- 
 spise, loathe him ; and, sooner than become 
 his wife, I would permit my brother to die 
 as he is, for I know that he would curse me 
 were I to save him at such a sacrifice. It 
 will be but death, and I shall suffer very lit- 
 tle, for my brother's pure soul will scarce 
 have taken its flight, ere mine will follow !" 
 
 " Miss Hayward !" 
 
 " Silence, Captain Walker. Soldiers, you 
 have human hearts, and this man has not. 
 I appeal to you. Save me ! Find my 
 brother and return him safely, and I prom- 
 ise to pay you one thousand dollars each. 
 If I fail to do this, I swear, by the hope of 
 heaven, that I will become the wife of one 
 of you, the choice to be decided by lots be- 
 tween you !" 
 
 These words acted like an electric shock 
 upon the soldiers. They spnmg to their 
 feet and confronted Walker. But he had 
 anticipated the effects of her words, and 
 stood sword and revolver in hand. 
 
 " You would play me false !" demanded 
 Walker, fiercely. 
 
 " Guess I would P' replied Jim. 
 
 " Take that, then !" yelled Walker. 
 The report of a pistol echoed through the 
 valley, and Jim fell without so much as a 
 groan. 
 
 " And how do you decide ?" asked Walk- 
 er, turning and pointing his revolver toward 
 Dick. 
 
 " I was only goin' to help you. I ain't 
 no such foolish cuss as to think of marry- 
 ing a fine lady like that ! I'm all right !" 
 
 "Prove yourself so, and you shall 7iave 
 your thousand. Deceive me, and you share 
 his fate I" 
 
 As Walker spoke he stepped to a clump 
 of thick bushes, and drew a small boat from 
 concealment. Handing Miss Hayward to a 
 seat, and preceded by Dick, Walker entered, 
 and the little craft swept gently along vsdth 
 the current, down the stream. 
 
 They had proceeded but a short distance, 
 when Miss Hayward burst forth, and sung 
 a wild, thrilling au', which echoed far and 
 wide, through the valley and across the 
 hills. There was something strangely beau- 
 tiful in her song, and something still more 
 strange in her actions. As each strain 
 echoed over the hills, and gave back the 
 ringing notes, she would start, and listen at- 
 tentively, and a gleam of joy would lighten 
 up her pale face, upon which a shade of 
 disppointment would almost as soon appear. 
 Her hearers sat in silence, and in apparent 
 wonder. 
 
 " Those words are significant !" exclaim- 
 ed Walker. . "What is their import?" 
 
 " She's going mad, too, I opine !" ex- 
 claimed Dick. " Better let her go !" 
 
 " Silence !" cried Walker. " Miss Hay- 
 ward, do you think your voice will penetrate 
 his retreat ?" 
 
 She made no answer, but, as the little 
 boat swept onward, ever and anon the same 
 words, and the same wild music broke the 
 stillness of the forest, now sounding like a 
 wail of sorrow, and then becoming almost 
 hushed in hopeful expectation. The words' 
 had the appearance of being extemporized 
 for the occasion, and were as follows : 
 Break those fetters — I am calling- 
 Listen only to my eong ! 
 I am waiting— loved one— waiting I 
 
 I have waited — oh, bo long ! 
 Give but one fond word to cheer me, 
 
 As I pray, and hope, and weep I 
 Let thy echo say thon'rt near me, 
 
 Aa my vigils thus I keep 1 
 Echo, as along I glide, 
 
 This my song, from thy retreat, 
 And I'll bound to thy dear side 1 
 
 Are we e'er again to meet ? 
 Yes, a Seraph from on high 
 Whispers to me, thou art nigh! 
 Friends are waiting— friends are near — 
 Dearest brother— do not fear 1 
 
80 
 
 THE PRISONER OF THE MILL. 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 The Pursuit — Tfie Perilous Situation — Im- 
 portant Information. 
 
 It was two o'clock in the morning, nearly 
 two hours after Miss HajTvard had been 
 seized, and borne from the camp by "Walker 
 and his confederates. The guard relief had 
 commenced his rounds. The first post vis- 
 ited was that in front of the door where 
 Walker had been confined. A glance re- 
 vealed the prisoner's escape. The chain 
 which had secured the door was lying upon 
 the steps, and the door itself was slightly 
 ajar. Walker and both the sentinels had 
 disappeared. The " long roll " was at once 
 beaten, and the camp aroused. Scarce had 
 the lines been formed when it was announced 
 that Miss Hayward also had disappeared. 
 The grief of her friends, and the rage of 
 the soldiers knew no bounds, and many was 
 the oath of a terrible retribution uttered 
 against the fiend who had spread such des- 
 olation and sorrow in her path. 
 
 It was but a few moments before squads 
 of cavalry were dashing in every direction 
 in pursuit. There was but little doubt as 
 to how the escape had been eff'ected. The 
 disappearance of the guard convinced all 
 that they were in league with Walker, but 
 in what manner they had gained possession 
 of Miss Hayward was a mystery. No one 
 had detected any thing unusual in her man- 
 ner the evening before, and she had retired 
 at her usual hour. 
 
 It was thought, however, that the parties 
 would not have taken any main road, as 
 the pickets would have given the alarm. 
 They could not have had more than two 
 hours the start, as ev^ry thing was all right 
 when the twelve o'clock relief went on 
 post, and at two o'clock the escape was dis- 
 covered. If Walker had to walk through 
 the fields in order to avoid the pickets, it 
 would take at least two hours to clear them. 
 It was most likely that, once outside the 
 lines, friends and horses would be procured. 
 Still, the distance would not be so great but 
 that our horsemen hoped to overtake them, 
 and so they set off with a good will in va- 
 rious directions. 
 
 " Are you not going to accompany us ?" 
 asked Lieutenant Wells, of Nettleton, who 
 was seated upon the grovmd, looking gloomy 
 and sullen. 
 
 " Not by a dam sight I" answered Net- 
 tleton, doggedly. 
 
 " And why not ?" asked Wells. 
 
 " You go 'long, and let me alone 1" he an- 
 swered, sharply. 
 
 There was no tune for words, and the 
 squadron departed. 
 
 The night passed, dming which Nettle- 
 ton was bitter in his self-reproach for not 
 watching closer, and would not hold con- 
 versation with any person. As the first 
 dawn of day became visible, Xettleton was 
 seen crawling upon his hands and knees, in 
 front of the former prison of Walker, and 
 through the garden, toward tlie west. His 
 movements were watched with considerable 
 interest, as all had begim to respect him for 
 his sagacity, in his peculiar way. At length 
 he returned to his tent, and, without speak- 
 ing, carefully examined his double-barrel 
 shot gun — a beautiful piece which he had 
 picked up upon the Wilson creek battle- 
 ground, and had been permitted to retain. 
 This he loaded ; then, taking a large ar- 
 tilleiy ammunition-bag, he went directly to 
 the tent of Adjutani Hmton. Removing 
 the lid of a minnie-ball ammunition-box, 
 he filled this pouch with cartridges. His 
 next move was to place some provision in 
 his haversack ; then he started. 
 
 " Where are you going, William ?" asked 
 Mrs. Hinton. 
 
 "Them boots!" he replied, pointing in 
 the direction he had just taken in his hands- 
 and-knees examination. 
 " What do you mean ?" 
 " Why, them boots as Tiad two hearts on the 
 soles went tluit way, and I'm going to fol- 
 low if I go to thunder !" He waited to hear 
 no more, or to speak more, but bounded off 
 to the westward. 
 
 He had been gone perhaps an hour, when 
 Fall-leaf, the Indian scout already referred 
 to, entered the camp. He was soon made 
 aware of the state of things. Fall-leaf was 
 deeply attached to Captain Hayward, and, 
 more especially so to his fair sister, Mamie. 
 The scout had been but a short time in 
 camp, when he had given to the General 
 all the information he possessed with regard 
 to the enemy. This done, he followed on 
 the trail fast as possible. 
 
 For several hours Nettleton kept on his 
 course, now striking the main road for the 
 purpose of searching for fresh tracks, then 
 taking to the woods again, to avoid obser- 
 vation. Several times he came upon the 
 well-known footprints, and a bitter exclama- 
 tion would escape him. He kept his course, 
 more from the judgment he had formed as 
 to the direction Walker had taken, than from 
 
NETTLETON AND FALL-LEAP ON THE TRAIL. 
 
 81 
 
 the numerous impressions of his boots. He 
 was ascending a sharp and ragged hill, 
 so heavily covered with the thorn-bush and 
 small scrub-oak peculiar to that countiy, 
 that his progress was rendered very difficult. 
 Suddenly a figure darted in front of him 
 and concealed itself among the thick under- 
 growth. Nettleton brought his gun to the 
 shoulder, and called out : 
 
 " None of that skulking, darn ye ! Come 
 out and fight fair I" 
 
 " Ugh !" responded the voice, and Fall- 
 leaf bounded to his side. 
 
 " Oh 1 it's you, is it, Mr. Ingen ? Well, I'm 
 darn glad you've come, for you can hunt these 
 snarly woods better than me ! Any news ?" 
 
 " You kill 'em— eh ?" 
 
 " I shall kill 'em, if I only get a bead on 
 the critter !" 
 
 "You did kill 'emV 
 
 " Kill who ?" 
 
 "Dead soldier — there!" Fall-leaf indi- 
 cated that he meant further on. 
 
 " Come on, Ingen," said Nettleton. He 
 reached the summit of the hill which over- 
 looked the valley below, and, led by Fall- 
 leaf, began its descent. They soon reached 
 the stream, and the Indian pointed to the 
 dead body. Nettleton gazed upon it a mo- 
 ment, and then said : 
 
 " Darn me if it ain't the very feller what 
 run away last night. Walker has been here, 
 sure !" 
 
 He commenced his search at once. He 
 found footprints in the sand, and among 
 them that of a lady, judging from its small 
 size. The Indian had also been taking ob- 
 servations. Returning from a clump of 
 bushes, he said to Nettleton : 
 
 " See — canoe — two — White Bird — so 1" 
 
 Here Fall-leaf indicated by action, that 
 two men had drawn a boat from conceal- 
 ment in the thicket, had entered it, as indi- 
 cated by tracks in the sand, and had pro- 
 ceeded down-stream. 
 
 " Well, they've got rid of one scoundrel, 
 any way. It will only be man to man, and 
 I feel myself to be a match for any dozen 
 such slamks as that Walker. They can't 
 have much the start !" 
 
 Both Fall-leaf and Nettleton walked rap- 
 idly forward along the bank of the stream. 
 At length — and it was almost a simultane- 
 ous movement on the part of each — they 
 stopped, and bending forward, held their 
 ears close to the ground. 
 
 "By thimderl" cried Nettleton, "that's 
 Tier voice 1" 
 
 " White Bird caged — she no sing 1" replied 
 Fall-leaf. 
 
 " Ain't you a dam fool? Don't you know 
 that White Bird, as you call her, has got a 
 right to expect some of her friends will be 
 after her, and so she sings that they may 
 hear her voice, echoing up and down 
 among these hills, and know where to find 
 her ?" 
 
 " Ugh ! good — white hunter no fool !" 
 
 Again the voice was heard, and this time 
 so clearly as to leave no doubt upon the 
 mmd of our hero, as to who the singer was. 
 Like a deer he bounded off in the direction 
 indicated. The music died away and all 
 was still. But the two men paused not. 
 
 Upon a sudden they emerged into an open 
 field of about four acres, near the center of 
 which were two large stacks of hay. The 
 river at this point took a bend, and the two 
 pursuers struck directly across the open 
 ■space. Just as they reached the stacks, 
 Fall-leaf darted close in to the base of one 
 of them, taking the attitude of a listener, 
 and making a significant sign to Nettleton. 
 
 " What is it ?" asked Nettleton. 
 
 "Harkl Soldiers! Horses! Whoa! Hark!" 
 
 Nettleton listened attentively, and then 
 said: 
 
 " There is a party of soldiers coming. It 
 7nay be our men who have been in search 
 of Miss — of the White Bird ; but, it is well 
 enough to keep close. It may be the rebels 
 merely moving camp. And if this is so, 
 Mamie must be with them. The sounds 
 are coming nearer — crawl under the hay, 
 red-skin — way imder, out of sight." 
 
 This was effected with some difficulty, 
 when a party of rebel guerrillas, nmnbering 
 about sixty, rode into the field, and pro- 
 ceeded to form their camp directly in the 
 vicinity of the hay-stacks, under which the 
 two men were concealed. 
 
 " Well, I guess we've got into the right 
 shop!" said Nettleton to Fall-leaf. Wears 
 cooped up here close enough for a while, 
 but, Miss Mamie must be with this crowd, 
 and when dark comes, we can scout around 
 and see what we can do. Lay quiet, Ingen !" 
 
 " White hunter knows ! Make good In- 
 gen 1" 
 
 The day dragged slowly away. Toward 
 night a party of the rebels came for forage 
 for their horses, but the hay was tumbled 
 from the top of the stack, and our friends 
 were not discovered. The guerrillas' con- 
 versation, however, was listened to with the 
 greatest interest by Nettleton. 
 
32 
 
 THE PRISONER OP THE illLL. 
 
 " So Colonel Brown, or "Walker, as he is 
 called, came within one of being done for 
 in the camp of the Yanks at Springfield ?" 
 
 " Yes, so he says." 
 
 " What the devil does he want with the 
 gal?" 
 
 " Oh, some love affair, of course." 
 
 " The gal was happy, for she was singing 
 like a nightingale." 
 
 " Oh yes I No doubt she was dazzled by 
 the prospect of being a colonel's wife." 
 
 " Who is she ?" 
 
 " Don't know." 
 
 " My eyes ! but she is a beauty !" 
 
 " So much the better for him." 
 
 " Where was he going with her ?" 
 
 " Oh, below — taking her to her brother, 
 I believe." 
 
 " Where is that ?" 
 
 "Down in the old mill/" 
 
 This was all the conversation heard by 
 the adventurers. But, the rebel troops diii 
 not move again until late in the next day, 
 and our friends were compelled to remain 
 quiet. They had learned sufficient to con- 
 vince them that Miss Hayward was not with 
 this band of rebels, but was being borne 
 still ftirther from them. They cursed the 
 chance which had thus entrapped them, and 
 prevented their overtaking the captive at 
 once. Still, they resolved to keep up the 
 pursuit, and they had learned that at some 
 mill the lady was to be conveyed, and that 
 her brother was there. Patiently they 
 ■waited until they could emerge, and finish 
 their journey. 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 Hayward. 
 
 It is time the reader was enlightened, 
 somewhat, as to the fate of Captain Hay- 
 ward. 
 
 The wound he had received the night of 
 the attempted assassination, was severe, but 
 by no means fatal. The loss of blood had 
 rendered him very weak, and for some time 
 he remained insensible. 
 
 At the moment the blow was inflicted, 
 there was, upon the other bank of the river, 
 and watching the Federals, a squad of rebel 
 cavalry scouts. The water into which Hay- 
 ward was thrown soon revived the wounded 
 man. He was seen by thip band, and car- 
 ried to the house of an officer of the Con- 
 federate army, not half a mile from the 
 
 spot. Here his wound was dressed. It ■was 
 not long before an order reached them, 
 signed by " Colonel Brown," to convey him 
 to the camp of Colonel Price, at Ozark. 
 This order was law, and immediately after 
 the Federals left Grand Prairie, a boat was 
 procured, and Hayward placed in it. But 
 half conscious, he reached the Ozark bridge 
 at the critical juncture already described in 
 the chapter referring to the interview between 
 Nettie Morton and Charles Campbell, and 
 the interruption by Colonel Price, the rescue 
 of Nettie by Fall-leaf, the approach of the 
 Union forces, and the resolve of Charles 
 Campbell to save the wounded captain. 
 
 It was at the moment when Price was in 
 pursuit of the Indian that Campbell, tjiking 
 advantage of his absence, and observing the 
 approach of the Federals, hastily penned 
 the note previously referred to and then 
 pushed ofi" with the boat, down the stream, 
 in order to effect his escape with the pris- 
 oner. 
 
 He began to hope that success would 
 crown his eflforts. The battle flivored his 
 flight. All that day and the night follow- 
 ing, he pursued his course. It was his pur- 
 pose to follow the Gasconade until he had 
 reached the point nearest Rolla, where he 
 supposed he would be free from tlie roving 
 bands of rebels, who were so numerous in 
 the vicinity of Springfield. But his hopes 
 were doomed to disappointment. Colonel 
 Price, anticipating the direction he had 
 taken, immediately dispatched one Lieuten- 
 ant Lewis, a most tireless wretch, with a 
 squad of ten men, to intercept Campbell, 
 and the prisoner captain. 
 
 Just as the morning dawned, Campbell 
 saw the pursuing party approaching. Pull- 
 ing for the shore, he lifted Captain Hay- 
 ward in his arms, and bore him into a mill, 
 which stood near at hand. There he quick- 
 ly concealed his charge in an upper loft, 
 and returned to meet the rebels. He stated 
 he had been captured by a party of the 
 Federals and conveyed to that point, and 
 that they had there released him upon his 
 parole of honor. This story was generally 
 believed, although one of the band appeared 
 to be incredulous, and left his fellows for a 
 pretended search. Not observing his ab- 
 sence, the remainder of the rebel band re- 
 turned without him, taking care, however, 
 that Campbell was not left behind. 
 
 When this person entered the mill, he 
 found Hayward leaning upon his elbow, 
 quite conscious, but too weak to move. He 
 
BOHANNAN'S MILL AND OLD MADGE. 
 
 33 
 
 paused before the -wounded man, and was 
 silent. Ilayward saw, and recognized him. 
 
 " Are friends near ?" was liis feeble ques- 
 tion. 
 
 " I am the only friend you have got in 
 these parts, and I reckon as how ' ugly Jim ' 
 ain't just the man you want to see !" 
 
 " You are one of my own men !" re- 
 turned Hayward. 
 
 " That's a p'int as will admit of some ar- 
 gument, as the lawyers say 1 I may be your. 
 man when I am in Springfield, but you are 
 my man now ! So don't kick up any fuss, 
 and after I have made you fast, I'll tell you 
 the rest. Ha, ha I" he muttered to himself, 
 " but Walker shall pay me well for this /" 
 
 Saying this the rebel rascal left the mill. 
 Not far from tliis mill, in a wretched log- 
 hut, lived an old woman, who gloried in the 
 title of " crazy Madge," and of whom the 
 rude backwoods people of the vicinity stood 
 in fear, as it was almost universally believed 
 among them that she was possessed of the 
 devil. She told fortunes with great correct- 
 ness, and employed the most singular modes 
 in doing this, such as burning powder and 
 strange incense, and the uttering of fearful 
 imprecations, and unearthly sounds. 
 
 The mill was owned by one Bohannan, 
 a captain of Confederate guerrillas. Since 
 the commencement of the war, it had not 
 been in operation, except on rare occasions. 
 About one mile above Bohannan's mill, 
 there was another mill, of smaller dimen- 
 sions, which had formerly been 0'v\Tied by a 
 thorough Union man, who, becoming a 
 refugee, had abandoned this mill, also. So 
 when the residents in that region, or any of 
 the straggling rebel bands, had occasion to 
 grind their grain, they always went to the 
 upper mill, more especially as it was be- 
 lieved that " crazy Madge " had taken full 
 possession of the lower one after its propri- 
 etor left, and that, being occupied in sacri- 
 legious rites, it was very generally believed 
 to be unsafe to venture in that vicinity. 
 Even the' most reckless and hardy of the 
 guerrillas held the spot in awe, and avoided 
 it at all times. 
 
 Madge was seated in her own door when 
 Campbell entered the mill with Hayward in 
 his arms. She watched him closely, but 
 uttered no word. She saw him emerge, 
 and meet the rebel band. She watched their 
 departure, and then discovered the new- 
 comer, " Grouse Green," as he was known. 
 When he came forth from the mill, Madge 
 Still was seated in the cabin doorway, 
 9 8 
 
 smoking her pipe. She did not even raise 
 her eyes, or pretend the least consciousness 
 of his presence, until, with a rude slap upon 
 her shoulder, he said : 
 
 " Come, old woman, I want you !" 
 
 The old creature pretended not the least 
 surprise, but, raising her snake-like eyes to 
 those of the speaker, she said : 
 
 " Does the son of Belial wish to know 
 his fate ? I need not the aid of my magic 
 charms to point it out to me. In less than 
 a month, the most horrible death — " 
 
 " Bah, you old crone ! I'd dash your 
 brains out for a copper,' you infernal croak- 
 ing old buzzard ! I don't come to have my 
 fortune told, but I want you to serve me, 
 and you shall have gold — do you hear, old 
 woman ? No fooling now, and gold is 
 yours !" 
 
 " Gold ! It is the master-key to human 
 hearts ! And what am I to do for gold ?" 
 
 " My biddiiig ! First, I want a set of 
 chains ! Have you such things in your in- 
 fernal den ?" 
 
 " You can have them for gold !" she ex- 
 claimed, tottering to a closet, and rattling 
 the cold iron. " I always keep them — it is 
 necessary to my trade !" 
 
 " Now for the bargain, old hag. You 
 saw me enter that mill just now ? Well, 
 there is a captain confined, or will be con- 
 fined before I leave him, in the upper loft. 
 He will be fastened. You must feed him 
 daily, just enough to keep life in him. I 
 will give you a hundred to start upon — 
 more money than you ever saw, old woman, 
 and when I return, if you have well done 
 your duty as keeper, I will give you another 
 hundred. Will you be faithful and keep 
 the prisoner in safety from rescue ?" 
 
 " I swear it by my magic art !" 
 
 " Bah ! blast your art ! Swear it by the 
 gold you will receive, and I'll believe you. 
 But come !" 
 
 Green reentered the mill followed by old 
 Madge. He seized the helpless Hayward 
 and bore him to an upper loft. There he 
 fettered him with the chains. 
 
 " And now I shall leave you here until 
 we can attend to you at a more convenient 
 time I" he muttered, as he gazed exultingly 
 upon Hayward. He was about to leave him 
 alone. 
 
 " Stay but a moment !" cried the wound- 
 ed man. " Tell me of my sister !" 
 
 " She has become the wife of Colonel 
 Brown, of the Confederate anny, or, as you 
 know him, Captain Walker, of the Federals l" 
 
34 
 
 THE PRISONER OP THE MILL. 
 
 " Liar !" cried Hayward. " But no ! I 
 will not use such terms now. Do you 
 know who struck the blow which so nearly 
 deprived me of life ?" 
 
 " Yes ; it was William Nettleton ! He is 
 also enlisted in the service of Walker. And 
 I will tell you more. In two days after }'ou 
 disappeared, Lieutenant Wells was hung for 
 your murder. Your sister fled with Walk- 
 er, who pretended the greatest friendship 
 for her. / performed the ceremony, and to- 
 night they are not three miles from you." 
 
 Hayward had become insensible, and 
 sunk to the floor. Green saw this, and mo- 
 tioning to the old woman, they left him 
 alone. 
 
 " That is the game I want you to play !" 
 said Green, as they emerged from the mill. 
 " Of course, all I have told him is ftxlse. 
 But I want you to carry it out, feecause 
 Colonel Price wishes it as well as Walker, 
 and as he is a most dangerous man to our 
 cause, I don't care how poorly he gets along. 
 It would be a good thing for us if he could 
 never take the field again. So see that you 
 do your duty !" 
 
 Madge received her money, and agreed 
 to follow all the instructions he h^d given 
 her. 
 
 Green now returned at once to the camp, 
 and reported to Walker. It was just be- 
 fore the decision of the court-martial had 
 been given, and that oflScer was free, not 
 only from restraint, but from any thing 
 which had, as yet, assumed a definite form. 
 He was delighted with the intelligence, and 
 resolved to take advantage of it soon as 
 Wells could be thoroughly crushed. 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 The, Priso7i — TTie Wieel-roain — Caged — I7ie 
 Life and Death Struggle. 
 
 We left Miss Hayward in the little boat, 
 in the custody of Walker and stupid Dick. 
 For several hours they sped rapidly onward 
 with the stream. They encoimtered the 
 party of rebels of which we have made 
 mention, but, as Walker, or Colonel Brown, 
 was the officer highest in rank, no one at- 
 tempted to interfere with his project. The 
 boat kept its course until it came upon a 
 broad flat which appeared to be some fire 
 or six miles in length, and perhaps one in 
 breadth. This, Walker informed Miss Hay- 
 ward, was the " Valley of Bohannan I" 
 
 " And," said he, " your brother is confined 
 in yonder mill !" 
 
 3Iiss Hayward gazed a moment upon the 
 structure, and then burst forth in the same 
 wild strain she had sung so frequently dur- 
 ing her boat voyage. 
 
 " It is folly for you to attempt to attract, 
 his notice by your voice. He is a clo3<f 
 prisoner and a maniac, and nothing but yodr 
 constant presence and attention will ever 
 cause his reason to return !" 
 
 " What do you intend to do with him 
 and myself?" asked Miss Hayward. 
 
 " I intend to take you to your brother. 
 I intend to let you sec him in a wretched 
 garret, with no hope of recovery, or of even 
 life. Unless you come to his aid. I intend 
 to permit you to gaze upon this scene, but 
 not even to speak with your brother, or to 
 assist him in any manner, until j-ou are my 
 wife. Then you sliall be free to attend to 
 all his wants, to provide for his comfort, to 
 restore him to reason, to life and to liberty." 
 
 Miss Hayward bent her head upon her 
 liands and wept. 
 
 " I will not ask for your final decision 
 now !" continued Walker. " I will wait 
 until you have seen your brother, which 
 will be in a few moments." 
 
 The boat was drawn to the shore, and 
 Walker, turning to Dick, said : 
 
 " I will dispense with you now. Go to 
 Joe's farm. Follow my instructions as to 
 storing the house with provisions, and at 
 least one comfortable bed. Miss Hayward, 
 it is a beautiful place of which I speak, and, 
 in case of your refusal to perform all that I 
 wish voluntarily, or to save your brother, I 
 shall be compelled to take advantage of a 
 friend's mansion, in case I can not eff'ect my 
 escape with you to Arkansas. This I doubt 
 being able to do, and more, I don't know 
 that I shall run the risk, as I am only a 
 subordinate, and some of my superiors might 
 order your release. You perceive that I in- 
 tend to make sure of my prize now that 
 she is in my keeping. As my wife she will 
 be permitted all proper liberty, but until 
 you are such, by j-our own voluntary act, 
 I must keep you safely from approach by 
 any one." 
 
 Dick had left; his master. Walker and 
 Miss HayT\-ard arrived at the log-hut adjoin- 
 ing the mill, and entered it. Old Madge 
 was there, but she looked pale • and frigh^ 
 ened. 
 
 " Come here, Madge. What is the mair 
 ter?" asked Walker. 
 
 I 
 
WALKER AND HIS CAPTIVE AT THE 1,nJLL. 
 
 85 
 
 " The devil's broke loose !" replied Madge, 
 trembling violently. 
 
 " Come, don't be alarmed ; I am Walker. 
 I am the one who sent you the lumdred 
 dollars to keep the man safely. You have 
 done so, I hope." 
 
 " He has just broke loose, and run into 
 the woods." 
 
 " How did that happen ?" 
 
 " Oh, he heard a voice singing outside, 
 and, in his fever delirium, said it was an 
 angel calling him to heaven, and he burst 
 from his room and rushed up yonder." 
 
 Walker and the old woman conversed 
 together in undertones for a few moments, 
 when he turned to Miss Hayward and 
 said : 
 
 " Your brother, in his delirium, broke his 
 chains, and is at large in the mountains. 
 He wiU not return here, and I think it 
 doubtful if I can find him. He will, most 
 likely, make his way to the Federal camps. 
 But, come with me ; you shall see where 
 he was confined, and then learn my further 
 intentions." 
 
 Walker seized the unresisting maiden by 
 the arm, and drew her into the mill. Up 
 the dirty stairs she went, and finally entered 
 the room, or attic, where the unfortunate 
 brother had been detained prisoner. She 
 shuddered as she gazed around her. 
 
 *' Now," said Walker, " I will show you 
 your room — one you shall occupy untU you 
 are Mrs. Colonel Brown." 
 
 He drew her still further on, and opened 
 a massive door, which grated upon its hinges. 
 She gazed in. It was a small apartment 
 into which the carpenter usually entered 
 when he wished to repair the great water- 
 wheel which set the mill in motion. This 
 room, or rather aperture, was of construc- 
 tion unlike any apartment intended for oc- 
 cupancy. There was a platform about ten 
 feet in width, which formed the only floor- 
 ing. Then a great opening beyond, through 
 which the main wheel extended upward 
 about eight or ten feet, entirely filling the 
 opening in the floor. Any man confined 
 in this apartment would find little diflBculty 
 in effecting his escape, provided he was an 
 expert swimmer, and the mill not in motion. 
 But the manner in which an escape must be 
 ^fiflected would be as follows : 
 
 When the mill was running, the wheel 
 being then in motion, the water was thrown 
 in large quantities in every part of the 
 room, and its inmate could scarcely prevent 
 drowning by catching his breath at inter- 
 
 vals. To attempt to spring into the wheel 
 — which was formed something like the 
 wheel of a wagon, the rim, or tire, however, 
 being about twenty feet in breadth, Mith 
 crevices, or brackets, for catching the water 
 which propelled it, and the braces answer- 
 ing as spokes bearing proportion to the rim 
 — would almost assuredly be dashed in 
 pieces in the attempt to gain the interior. 
 But, once there, he would be whirled round 
 and round until he could gather his energies 
 for a jump when that portion of the 
 wheel in which he was perched was down, 
 or nearest the bed of the stream. To leap 
 out into the river would be a task equally 
 perilous to that of springing in. When the 
 wheel was not in motion, one could step 
 into the opening, slide down the rim with 
 great ease, spring into the water, and gain 
 the shore in a moment. 
 
 Miss Hayward gazed into this room or 
 vault with a ftiinting, sickening sensation; 
 but she did not speak. It appeared as if 
 hope had almost left; her heart, now that 
 1 she found her brother gone, and she nerved 
 herself for any fate that might overtake her. 
 
 It wasj* as we have stated, late in the 
 afternoon before the rebels encamped aroimd 
 the stack where Nettleton and Fall-leaf 
 were secreted, took their dei^arture, and up 
 to that time the two faithful pursuers were 
 miable to venture forth. At last all was 
 safe, and they emerged from theu* conceal- 
 ment, and gazed around them. No living 
 person was to be seen. A meal was hastily 
 prepared, after partaking of which they re- 
 sumed their journey at a rapid rate. AU 
 night they plodded along, taking care to see 
 that no mill was passed upon the route. 
 As the morning dawned, they found them- 
 selves in an open space of considerable ex- 
 tent, and close by the stream was a mill. 
 This was carefully examined in every nook 
 and corner; but nothing was found. They 
 made inquiry of a woman living in a cabin 
 near the spot, and learned that, a mUe fur- 
 ther on, was another mill of larger dimen- 
 sions, belonging to one Bohannan. For 
 this place thej' immediately bent their steps. 
 Arriving, they were met by old Madge, who 
 immediately commenced her mummeries in 
 order to divert their attention. The Indian 
 gazed upon her a moment, as if half in awe, 
 and half in fear, but Nettleton did not pause, 
 and exclaimed : 
 
 " Come along, Ingen ; I expect here's the 
 place." 
 
36 
 
 THE PRISONER OF THE MU.L. 
 
 They entered the mill. The Indian re- 
 mained at the door to prevent any egress, 
 while Nettleton commenced his search. Up 
 and dowai, high and low, the search was 
 prosecuted. 
 
 Walker being then within, had observed 
 the approach of Nettleton and the Indian. 
 His first impulse was to fire upon them ; 
 but he knew if his aim proved inaccurate 
 he might then bid adieu to life, and so he 
 resolved to resort to stratagem. He seized 
 Miss Hayward and sprung into a wheat-bin, 
 close by the door of the wheel-room we 
 have described. He soon buried himself 
 and his prisoner among a lot of old bags, 
 husks and refuse, and cautioned her to 
 remain quiet, as a band of Kansas cut- 
 throats, who regarded neither the life or 
 person of a pretty woman, were at hand. 
 This had the effect to keep lliss Hayward 
 quiet. 
 
 JSTettleton had completed his search. The 
 lower floor of the "mill had been carefully 
 scrutinized — its closets, its bins — except the 
 small one near the wheel-room, which had 
 escaped his notice. 
 
 " I wonder if there is any thing lincler 
 the mill ?" queried Nettleton. " I'll, call, and 
 see if that does any good. Captain ! Cap- 
 tain Hayward !" 
 
 The voice was at once recognized by 
 lliss Haywiard, who vainly struggled to 
 reply; but "Walker held a handkerchief so 
 tightly over her mouth that she could pro- 
 duce no sound. At length, by a desperate 
 efibrt, she removed his hand and shrieked : 
 
 " Here, William ! here !" 
 
 " Where ? where ?" cried William-, as he 
 sprung toward the bin. 
 
 " In tlie wlieel-i-dayn /" yelled Walker, 
 smothering his voice so far as to drown the 
 exact direction in which it came. 
 
 Nettleton bounded into the wheel-room, 
 closely followed by the Indian, who now 
 supposed their friends to be found. Quick 
 as lightning Walker sprung from the bin, 
 and slammed the door upon them, bolting it 
 securely. He then started for the mill-gate, 
 which, being hoisted, would set the large 
 wheel in motion. 
 
 As soon as the door was closed upon 
 Nettleton, he rightly suspected treachery, 
 and throwing himself with all his violence 
 against the door, tried to force it. But in 
 vain. 
 
 " Quick, Ingen ; jump into the nSlI- wheel, 
 and down into the water !" 
 
 They were about to adopt this plan of 
 
 escape, when the wheel started with great 
 rapidity, rendering it seemingly impossible 
 to do so. 
 
 " Now," yelled Walker, as he seized Miss 
 Mamie and bore her from the mill, "you 
 shall see the folly of opposing me ! You 
 shall see how I triumph over all obstacles, 
 and how those who oppose mc perish !" 
 
 Inside of the mill, and near the door, was 
 a quantity of hay and unthreshed grain, 
 stored there for use by some neighboring 
 farmer or guerrilla. Striking a match, 
 Walker lit the inflammable material. In a 
 moment it blazed high, and communicated 
 with the woodwork. Walker only waited 
 to see this, and then, almost dragging IMiss 
 Hqyward along, he reached the river, drew 
 the boat into the stream, and was once more 
 floating with the current. 
 
 " Look, Miss Mamie, is not that a lovely 
 sight ?" he cried, pointing to the mill, now 
 thoroughly enveloped in flames. " Nettle- 
 ton is there, and Fall-leaf is there, and they 
 have been brought there by you. They 
 will perish in those flames, and you must 
 be responsible for their murder. When 
 will you learn that it is useless to oppose 
 me, and cease to do so ? To submit to my 
 proper and honorable requests is the only 
 way you can save your friends." 
 
 When Nettleton and Fall-leaf found their 
 mode of escape thus cut ofi", they naturally 
 turned to each other for advice. But the 
 water thrown from the wheel so blinded 
 and choked them that they could not hold 
 conversation at all. It was not long before 
 our prisonfts became aware of the fact 
 that, however disagreeable the water might 
 be, they were likely to be visited by an 
 element, and that very soon, far more dis- 
 agreeable, under the i^resent circumstances. 
 The flames were seizing upon everj- part of 
 the mill, and all around them soon became 
 a mass of lurid, destroying light. The 
 rafters, flooring and upper work threatened w 
 to foil at any moment. Still the room in 
 which our friends were confined remained 
 unscathed, surrounded as it was by water. 
 But, it must soon yield to the fiery element. 
 The wheel still moved ; yet it seemed as if 
 its speed was somewhat lessened. At length 
 Nettleton yelled : 
 
 " Ingen, I'm going ; take your chances !" 
 
 With a bound he sprung into the wheel. ^ 
 He escaped any severe blow, but, upon fr 
 alighting he was tossed, and pitched, and 
 tumbled over, until at last, catching upon 
 the centre-bar, he held hunself until he had 
 
PERIL OF KETTLETON AND THE INDIAN. 
 
 37 
 
 made his calculation as to where his next 
 jump should be. At last he ventured the 
 hazardous leap, and was precipitated into 
 the foamiug waters beneath the wheel, 
 which in its revolution struck him lightly, 
 calling forth a grumble or a gruut. But 
 Nettleton battled bravely with the rushing 
 waters, and at length, half dead with suffo- 
 cation, he crawled upon the bank as the 
 burning rafters of the mill were falling 
 around him. 
 
 " Wal, I suppose Ingen is roasted alive, 
 and I must do the work alone. I'm darn 
 sorry. And I've lost my gun, too. But I 
 ought to be glad that I didn't lose myself. 
 The villain, but won't I roast him if ever I 
 lay these hands on him !" 
 
 Thus he muttered as he sat for a moment 
 gazing upon the appalling spectacle before 
 him. He then sprung up, and seeing the 
 old woman, at once started for the cabin. 
 Madge met huii at the door. 
 
 " "Will you have my services, to tell you 
 truly the fortune that is in store for you ?" 
 she asked. 
 
 " Your services. Yaas ; I'll have you 
 tell me all about affairs here in this quarter, 
 and if you don't own up every thing, I'll 
 put 3'ou in this pile of logs and roast you, 
 as sure as you are a she woman. Do you 
 understand ?" 
 
 " I have but little to reveal of the cir- 
 cumstances to which you refer. The Fede- 
 I'al officer icas in the mill a prisoner, but 
 escaped, in his delirium, and is now some- 
 where out in the moimtain. Walker and 
 the lady were in the mill, but are now out 
 of reach, down stream. This is all I 
 know." 
 
 "And it is enough. Now, you just fork 
 over a good Minie musket — I know you 
 have a dozen concealed here for the use of 
 your Mends, and all the fixius for settlin' the 
 hash of your friend, Captain Walker, for 
 hun and me has an accoimt to fix what will 
 require powder and lead, if this bread-cutter 
 of mine don't do the job," he said, handling 
 his bowie-knife. 
 
 Madge only too well read in Nettleton's 
 face the resolute nature of the man, and 
 with scarcely a moment's hesitancy went 
 out of the hut to a hollow tree near by, and 
 produced from thence an armful of arms, 
 made up of shot-guns, old-fashioned rifles, 
 and a ]\Iinic musket. From these Nettleton 
 selected, after carefiil scrutiny, a heavy 
 double-barrel squirrel gun. .Ammunition 
 was also supplied by the woinan without 
 
 hesitancj'', and the pursuer soon found him- 
 self equipped in a most formidable manner. 
 
 " Thei^, old gal, you have done the right 
 thing. It is well that you did, for, as sure 
 as lizards, I should have burned you in your 
 pen if you hadn't forked over what I know'd 
 was in your possession. Now, good-by, 
 and behave yourself If the captain — my 
 captain I mean — comes back to you, do 
 you be kind to him, for I tell yau it is for 
 your best interests to be so. Do you believe 
 that ?" 
 
 " I believe any thing "j'ou say," replied the 
 old creature, betraying her anxiety to get 
 rid of her visitor. 
 
 " You do, eh ? Well, jist keep on think- 
 ing so, for I shall, maj'hap, want to iise you 
 again some of these days. So good-by, and 
 keep your eyes clean." 
 
 With this injunction he started again for 
 the river, following the stream for some 
 distance, but finally, for some reason best 
 known to himself, took to the mountains. 
 Every few moments he would pause and 
 listen, as if a faint soimd met his earS, and 
 then continue his journey. 
 
 After Nettleton had escaped from the 
 mill, Fall-leaf began to look around for 
 some other means of escape. He felt sure 
 that Nettleton's leap must be a fatal ohe — 
 that, if he was not dashed to pieces by the 
 wheel, he would surely be drowned in the 
 rushing waters. All chance of escape for 
 the poor Jndian appeared quite as hopeless. 
 The flames were already hissing around 
 him, and curling up the sides of his prison- 
 house. The fire had weakened the boards, 
 and, just as the flames were coiling around 
 his form, he made a desperate effort, and 
 burst the siding from the mill. In an 
 instant he sprung through the aperture, al- 
 though the fiery elenient presented a formid- 
 able obstacle between himself and safety. 
 He alighted, however, with only a few 
 slight bruises, and, waiting for nothing, 
 bounded forward. He knew if Walker had 
 continued his journey down the river, he 
 could soon overtake him. For an hour he 
 did not slacken his pace, and finally, in 
 turning a short bend in the river, he beheld 
 the boat. 
 
 He was about to dash forward to the 
 rescue of Miss Hayward, but he remem- 
 bered that he had no gun, his only weapon 
 being his sheath-knife, while Walker was 
 well armed. He must resort to stratagem. 
 His object was to watch for opportunity, 
 and when Walker should land, or when the 
 
 i^^ 
 
88 
 
 THE PRISONER OF THE MH^L. 
 
 boat neared the shore, and the thicket fa- 
 vored the movement, to spring upon him 
 suddenly, and drive the knife to his heart. 
 But the river gradually grew wider, and 
 Walker kept his boat in the center, too far 
 distant from shore for any attempt for his 
 seizure to prove successful. All that day 
 and all the night following, the boat drifted 
 on with the stream. It was evident "Walker 
 was anxious to reach a certain point as 
 quickly as possible. 
 
 The morning dawned just as the little 
 craft shot past the ford on the Rolla turn- 
 pike, near the " ghost swamp," a locality 
 of weird interest and novel character. 
 Walker was about to land, near a small 
 farm-house which stood behind a jutting 
 hill, entirely concealed from the main road, 
 but before touching the sliore, his quick eye 
 caught sight of a dark form creepmg cau- 
 tiously along the bank. At the same mo- 
 ment he discovered three horses tied in a 
 thicket only a short distance from the house. 
 Whether they belonged to friend or foe he 
 could not tell ; but the fact of seeing the 
 creeping form rendered him cautious, and 
 he immediately pulled for the'opposite shore, 
 where he landed. 
 
 " Are you friend or foe to the Confede- 
 rates.?" shouted Walker, from the opposite 
 side of the stream. 
 
 There was no response. 
 
 " That cursed Dick must have betrayed 
 me," he muttered. " But, I will match 
 them yet. Come !" 
 
 He dragged Miss Hayward along up the 
 mountain steep. At length he reached a 
 point of rock which extended far over the 
 valley below. A narrow footway, not more 
 than ten inches in width, forming a kind of 
 shelf in the rock, led into an immense cav- 
 ern, which is known in tliat region as the 
 " Silver Cave." Just in front of this cave 
 was a large, flat rock, forming an overhang- 
 ing platform, but to reach this, or the mouth 
 of the cave, required great care, as the nar- 
 row path was the only manner in which an 
 entrance or exit could be effected. Into 
 this place Walker conveyed Miss Hayward. 
 
 Walker had, when meeting the rebels 
 two days before, provided his boat well with 
 provisions. These he conveyed with him 
 into the cavern. 
 
 He had not observed, however, that he 
 was followed closely, and that the Indian 
 arrived at the narrow passageway just as 
 the rebel and his prisoner entered the cave. 
 This was so. The Indian crept up as close- 
 
 ly as possible, and peered over the project- 
 ing point which shut Walker from bis view. 
 He was observed. 
 
 " And who are you ?" yelled Walker. 
 The Indian was perfectly familiar with 
 the cave. He know no person could leave 
 it by the narrow shelf or pathway. He 
 could keep himself concealed, and if Walker 
 passed a certain point, before he could bring 
 his gun to bear, he could strike him dead. 
 Walker was a prisoner, with a watchful and 
 relentless keeper. The Indian replied : 
 
 " Ah, WJiite Bird ! Fall-leaf here ! Fall- 
 leaf save !" 
 
 " Is it indeed my friend FaU-leaf ?" cried 
 Miss HayAvard, joyfully. / 
 
 " Yes ; Fall-leaf save you !" 
 "Where is William Nettleton ?" asked 
 Mamie. 
 
 " Gone — gone !" 
 
 " Ah ! then I have only you to encoun- 
 ter " yelled Walker, " and, if the Fates fa- 
 vor me, I shall triumph. I know the In- 
 dian has not thought to provide himself 
 with provisions. I have enough to last us, 
 with care, for two weeks, and by that time 
 he will starve, for no Federal fool ever will 
 find me Iwre. He dare not leave in search 
 of help, for I should then effect my escape. 
 So we will play our hands, and see if I do 
 not hold the trump card. Ha ! ha ! I can 
 baffle any friend you have. Miss Hay^^^^rd." 
 " White Bird sing," said the Indian. 
 " Yes, I wUl sing. And as we are now 
 near the main road, some one will be sure 
 to hear me." 
 
 " Me watch — me wait !" 
 During the entire passage Miss Hayward 
 had not failed to sing her echo-song eveiy 
 few miles, hoping to attract attention and 
 gain assistance. Now that she was so near 
 the public highway, she applied herself anew 
 to the task. Walker made frequent attempts 
 to silence her, but could not do it, as he 
 feared, whenever he turned from his watch, 
 that the Indian would dart in upon him. 
 
 Some two years previous, there was a 
 superstitious belief prevailing in that section 
 of Missouri, that the spirit of a murdered 
 lady appeared upon the waters of the Gas- 
 conade, singing her mournful lays, and glid- 
 ing in her death-skiff along the waters. For 
 some time past nothing had been heard of 
 the " lady-ghost ;" but, when the songs of 
 Sliss Hayward were heard, the simple in- 
 habitants began to think that the " ghost- 
 lady " had returned, and, instead of seeking 
 to gratify their curiosity, were caieful to 
 
THE HAND TO HAND STRUGGLE. 
 
 89 
 
 keep as far as possible away. So it proved 
 with regard to the cave, after the singing 
 commenced. 
 
 Several days passed, and no succor ap- 
 peared. The Indian kept faithful watch, 
 and so did Walker, that he might not be 
 taken by surprise. 
 
 Walker becoming convinced that Fall- 
 leaf had no gun, several times endeavored 
 to bring his own to bear upon his vigilant 
 foe, but this he could not do without placing 
 himself in a dangerous position. Both 
 were weary for want of sleep, and both 
 would occasionally sink into a fitful slum- 
 ber; but, so intent was each upon his object, 
 that the slightest movement would rouse the 
 sleepers, and each stand ready to meet his 
 foe. But, as Fall-leaf hud no food, he be- 
 gan tO' grow faint — his firm frame began 
 visibly to weaken ; still, he determined to 
 maintain his watch as long as life should 
 last. 
 
 CHAPTER Xn. 
 
 TTie Mountain Adventure. 
 
 Let us return to the army, which we left 
 near Lebanon. The main force was to con- 
 tinue its march onward toward RoUa, while 
 a battalion of infantry, a section of artillery, 
 and a company of cavalry struck to the 
 west of the main road, and started for the 
 point from which the messenger had arrived. 
 It was a weary march, as the troops already 
 had proceeded twenty miles that day. But 
 the dreadful atrocities related as having been 
 committed by the guerrillas fired the hearts 
 of the brave soldiers, and they pressed for- 
 ward with a will. 
 
 The troops at last reached the scene of 
 the outrages, in the place known as " Bo- 
 hannan Mills Valley." The deeds of blood 
 and horror had not been exaggerated by the 
 messenger. Wohien had been murdered in 
 their bteds, old men were lying stiff and cold, 
 with their brains beaten out, and cUildren, 
 helpless and weeping, were clinging to their 
 dead bodies or w^andering distractedly around. 
 
 The battalion which had been sent to this 
 valley was the one to which Lieutenant 
 Wells and Adjutant Hinton belonged. Wells 
 was still suffering from the terrible anxiety 
 of mind which he had recently imdergone, 
 but did not permit his own troubles to inter- 
 fere with his discharge of duty. The troops 
 camped in the little valley, to collect the 
 scattered families, whose remaining members 
 
 it was determined to take along with the 
 army in its retreat. Soon word was brought 
 by a mountaineer that the guerrillas still 
 were infesting the moimtain, while the flames 
 of a burning mill, seen below, seemed to 
 give evidence that the miscreants still were 
 at their work of blood. This decided the 
 officers to scour the mountain,-if possible, to 
 force the rebels to a fight, for there was not, 
 a man in the Union ranks who did not pant 
 for a chance to meet those dastards, who, un- 
 der the protecting folds of the Confederate 
 flag, committed atrocities at which humanity 
 stood aghast. Wells was soon at the head 
 of a strong party of dismounted dragoons, 
 and with them struck off for the hills back 
 of the burning mill. A weary march was 
 brought to a sudden halt by a deep water 
 gully, over which no perceptible ford offered 
 a passage. Up and down it Wells passed 
 to reconnoiter. It was an ugly spot to be 
 caught in by a wily foe, and the troops were 
 so disposed as to guard against a surprise. 
 The men kept close under cover of the dense 
 undergrowth, so as not to betray their posi- 
 tion should the guerrillas come upon them. 
 Lieutenant Wells and Acjjutant Hinton were 
 proceeding up the watercourse, when a rat- 
 tle of fire-arms arrested their attention. It 
 was evident some kind of a conflict was 
 taking place over the stream. The volley 
 was not, however, answered by a return ; 
 only a single shot was heard, and then a 
 wild, frenzied shout, as if of maddened men. 
 After a brief interval, another shot was 
 heard, and a second paralyzed howl was 
 followed by shouts and curses, plainly heard 
 by the two anxious senior officers. 
 
 " It must be the guerrillas after the poor 
 Unionists who have fled to the mountain," 
 said Hinton. " Our men must not be idle 
 when such work is going on. You stay 
 here. Wells, to watch ftirther, while I go 
 back to bring up our boys." 
 
 Hinton hurried away, while Wells crept 
 forward to the veiy edge of the deep but 
 narrow gully beyond which the sounds of 
 conflict were heard. Hardly had he secured 
 a spot for observation, ere he was startled 
 by the ci'ash of the undergrowth and the 
 voices of men not ten rods away. On to- 
 ward the lieutenant's place of concealment 
 came the pursued and pursuers. The first 
 was but a single man, whom Wells several 
 times detected gliding along from tree to 
 tree, keeping " under cover " like an experi- 
 enced woodsman. He was closely pursued 
 by a band of the guerrillas, all dismounted^ 
 
40 
 
 THE PRISONER OF THE MILL. 
 
 who were making the hills echo with their 
 demoniac yells. Slowly the fugitive retired, 
 holding his foes at bay by his sagacious ma- 
 neuvers. Wells became intensely excited 
 over tlie scene, and resolved to rush at once 
 to the brave fellow's aid, but there lay be- 
 fore him the impassable gulf over which 
 few men could bound. Finally the hunted 
 man struck the gully, and saw at a glance 
 that his retreat was cut oflF. The enemj'- 
 saw it, too, for they set up a shout of com- 
 mingled derision and pleasure, which so 
 maddened the fugitive that he yelled : 
 
 " Laugh away, you dam skunks. I'll 
 make more than one of your dirty carcasses 
 food for the crows before I go under." And 
 suiting the words to action, he fired two 
 successive shots from what, apparently, was 
 a double-barrel fowling-piece. Two of the 
 guerrillas must have fallen, for ferocious 
 shrieks of agony followed. 
 
 Wells could endure no more. There 
 stood before him his brave fi-iend William 
 Nettleton, hunted by a dozen fiends who 
 must soon overpower him if aid was not 
 quickly given. He started backward for a 
 couple of rods, then rushed with almost fly- 
 ing swiftness up to the gully, and bounded 
 over its sharply-cut edge. For a moment 
 his desperate leap arrested all attention. 
 Nettleton deemed it a new adversary com- 
 ing upon him from an unexpected quarter, 
 and turned,* knife in hand, to close in with 
 his antagonist. What was his astonishment 
 to welcome Lieutenant Wells to his arms ! 
 What a shout followed ! The guerrillas 
 quickly sought cover, not knowing how 
 many others might be lurking on the oppo- 
 site side of the ravine to give them a 
 bloody welcome. 
 
 " Wells, by the jumping jingo ! Where 
 did you come from and where is you going 
 to ? Give us yer hand and lend us yer re- 
 volver. Ah, got two of 'em. Hooray ! 
 Down on yer knees quicker'n lightnin', for 
 the woman-murderers are after us, sharp !" 
 
 Down the two men fell, just in time to 
 escape a volley from the carbines of a squad 
 of the murderers. With the dexterity of a 
 squirrel, Nettleton rushed forward to a 
 friendly tree, and fired quickly three shots 
 from the revolver. It was a surprise to the 
 enemy, for two of their number fell, so true 
 had the aim been. The squad retreated to 
 reload, but Nettleton had no idea of per- 
 mitting that, and was about to press his ad- 
 vantage, when a powerfully-built rebel came 
 rushing upon him, knife in hand, from the 
 
 right side of the tree, unseen by the nn- 
 daunted man until it was too late for the 
 use of his fire-arm. In a moment they were 
 clasped in the death-struggle. Three or 
 four of the guerrillas rushed to the spot, 
 only to be shot down by Wells' deliberate 
 aim. No more appeared, and the two com- 
 batants were left; to their fearful work. 
 Each had seized the knife-hand of the other. 
 Then followed the strain of muscle for the 
 mastery. The guerrilla, counting upon his 
 tremendous strength, doubtless hoped for 
 an easy victory ; but in that ungainly form 
 he found a bundle of nerves tough as whale- 
 bone — a human frame elastic as india-rub- 
 ber but as invincible as steel. 
 
 Down toward the gully the combatants 
 pressed. In vain did the rebel try to force 
 his antagonist to the earth. The supple 
 form of Nettleton bent under his adversa- 
 ry's pressure, but his frame at lengtli re- 
 bounded with a force which bore the guer- 
 rilla to his knees. He drew the Federal 
 down with him, and on their knees the 
 frightful combat was continued. Wells 
 would have advanced from his concealment 
 to the rescue, but knew that a rebel carbine 
 would surely bring him down, and thus 
 place it out of his power to aid his friend 
 at all. Slowly toward the chasm tlie men 
 worked their way, struggling like two ser- 
 pents striving for the death-triumph. It 
 was an exciting but appalling spectacle, 
 which the sudden roar of fire-arms on the 
 left did not serve to an-est. A shout fol- 
 lowed, which Wells recognized as that of 
 his o\ra. men, who must have discovered a 
 crossing below, and have come upon the 
 band of cut-throats unawares. There waa 
 a sudden scattering of those concealed in 
 the immediate vicinity of the hand-to-hand 
 contest, but one villain rushed from his 
 cover upon the wilthing forms of the bleed- 
 ing men, with the design of dispatching the 
 unconquered Federal. Wells was upon 
 him like a tiger, and in a moment cut him 
 down with his sword. Hinton beheld the 
 stroke, and came rushing up to the spot 
 just in time to behold the struggling men 
 go over the gully's bank together. 
 
 The two officers hurried to the bank. 
 Some twenty feet below they could distin- 
 guish the forms of the combatants, both ap- 
 parently lifeless. Without a moment's hes- 
 itancy. Wells dropped from the brink, aifti 
 fell crashing through the dense jimgle lining 
 the water's edge, to the bed of the stream. 
 He was stunned but not injured, and arose 
 
THE LOST FOUND. 
 
 41 
 
 to his feet to find Nettleton in a sitting pos- 
 ture. Beside him lay the big guerrilla, 
 silent in death. 
 
 " I'll be danged if that wan't the ugliest 
 cuss as ever I tusseled with, breeches-holt, 
 back-holt or rough-and-tumble." This was 
 his first ejaculation. 
 
 "Are you injured?" anxiously inquired 
 Wells. 
 
 " Wal, let's take a reconnoissance. Here's 
 a hole in this arm, that's sp'iled the only 
 good coat I ever had, dang it ! Here's a 
 rip, too, in the collar, whar that critter's 
 knife tried to cut my windpipe. He did 
 scratch me thar, I believe," he said, finger- 
 ing his neck, down which the blood flowed 
 freely. " By Jemima, ef I haven't lost a 
 finger !" he added, suddenly holding up his 
 hand. " Now, that's too bad, ef it is on 
 the left hand. I rayther think the reb got 
 a mouthful when he chawed that off!" 
 And thus he would have continued for an- 
 other ten minutes had not shouts from above 
 aroused him. 
 
 " Who's come ?" he asked. 
 
 " Hinton and the battalion." 
 
 " Glory ! And have the rebs been caught 
 in a trap ?" 
 
 " I don't know how many, but from the 
 shots and shouts I don't think many will be 
 permitted to escape." 
 
 " All right. Now jist give us a lift, to 
 see if my shanks is all right. There, that's 
 the jimiper. Jist look at my back, and see 
 if you find any holes that want plugging." 
 
 No " holes " were found, and the good- 
 natured fellow came out of the combat 
 with only flesh-wounds, save the loss of one 
 finger from the left hand, which the guer- 
 rilla had bitten off. Nettleton was much 
 exhausted, and was finally drawn up out of 
 the gully with no little difficulty, when the 
 men set up a shout which made the hills 
 rmg. 
 
 " There, boys, that'll pay for the bruises ; 
 I and now I guess you'll have to do me an- 
 other favor — jist rub my shanks and the 
 hinges in my back with a little whisky, if 
 you can spare it." 
 
 In a moment a dozen pocket-flasks were 
 produced and willing hands gave him a good 
 rubbing, which gave his limbs new strength. 
 It was evident that his muscles had been 
 severely overtasked, for he was languid and 
 incat)able of exertion. 
 
 Nettleton now narrated the particulars 
 of his and Fall-leaf's adventures. Soon the 
 troops were out on the search for Captain 
 
 Hayward, while, assisted by a couple of 
 comrades, the wounded hero of the hour 
 made his way down to the cabin of old 
 Madge. The old creature received him 
 kindly and at once bestirred herself to make 
 him strong again. The air was soon odo- 
 riferous with the smell of distilling herbs. 
 
 A prolonged shout, ere long, came rolling 
 down the hill. Nettleton was aroused from 
 a sleep into which he had fallen. His two 
 comrades at once hurried out to ascertain its 
 cause. Old Madge paused in her toil and 
 said : 
 
 " The captain's found, I s'pose." 
 " Hooray !" yelled the invalid, now an in- 
 valid no longer. Springing from his bed 
 he rushed out, and away he went up the 
 hills in the direction of the still continuing 
 noise. His companions, astonished at his 
 sudden recovery, followed, and all were soon 
 lost to sight. 
 
 Harry Hayward was indeed found, and 
 the cavalcade, bearing him on a rude litter, 
 after a half-hour's time, made its appearance 
 coming down the mountain. Nettleton was 
 at his side, crying like a baby. Wells held 
 the sick man's hand, while his face, still ex- 
 pressing anxiety, beamed with joy. Hay- 
 ward was discovered hidden in a quiet, cool 
 nook, where he lay in a very exliausted con- 
 dition. He had, in his fever-delirium, bro- 
 ken away from Madge's custody, but, no 
 sooner was he out in the cool shade of the 
 trees and rocks than his mind became clear 
 and composed. Weak and ill as he was he 
 still had strength to seek a place of safety 
 from pursuit, should it be attempted, as he 
 supposed it would be. At nightfall he had 
 determined to seek out some respectable 
 looking farm-house, and on the morrow to 
 cast himself upon the mercy of strangers, 
 knowing that even though that stranger 
 might be a foe he could not be more inhu- 
 man than men wearing the uniform of Con- 
 federate officers. But the sufferer was spared 
 further efforts. The shouts and reports of 
 fire-arms Hayward distmctly heard, and at 
 once surmised that a Union force was at 
 hand. When the men scattered in squads 
 for the search through the mountain, the 
 captain beheld one of the parties passing 
 before his hiding-place. It was his moment 
 of deliverance. He stqoped out before the 
 astonished soldiers, who, not recognizing 
 the apparition, did not at once welcome 
 hun. 
 
 " My men, don't you know me ?" 
 "Captain Haywai-d!" they shouted, as 
 
THE PRISONER OF THE MILL. 
 
 they rushed upon him, and clasped him in 
 their arms. 
 
 He was borne toward Madge's cabin, to 
 be welcomed on the way by the gathering 
 men. Wells now appeared. The joy of 
 that meeting can be surmised. The welkin 
 was made to ring with the glad notes of 
 the jubilant soldiers. These notes it was 
 ■which aroused tlie sleeper in the cabin, and 
 when at length he appeared, strugglmg 
 wearily up the hill, the cavalcade paused to 
 permit the overjoyed parties a few minutes 
 of undisturbed greeting. Nettleton was 
 not even talkative — a circumstance indica- 
 tive of the depth of his feelings — and it 
 was not until the captain was fully do- 
 miciled in the cabin, that he could con- 
 sent to talk of the past and its painful 
 incidents. He then narrated the events of 
 Walker's plot, as we have here recorded 
 them, ending with the tragedy of the mill. 
 It was a revelation of intense but most 
 painful interest to tlie sick man ; but he 
 bore the affliction of his sister's loss with 
 great resolution, sustained by the conviction 
 that He who doeth all things well would 
 not permit the evil one to triumph. 
 
 CHAPTER XIH. 
 Tlie Gam and the Contest for Life. 
 
 After two days spent in the cabin, Net- 
 tleton became excessively uneasy. From 
 something which had transpired, he con- 
 ceived that old Madge knew more of 
 Walker's whereabouts than she had yet 
 confessed. This conviction, once formed, 
 was but the prelude to action. Without 
 informing any one of his purpose, he fol- 
 lowed the old woman into the woods — 
 whither she went in pursuit of her medica- 
 ments — having in his hands a stout rope. 
 In a wild, retired spot, he confronted her. 
 
 " Look here, old critter, you're close- 
 mouthed, when it would be better for your 
 health to talk a little. Now, you jist tell 
 me where Captain Walker has taken Miss 
 Mamie. Talk straight, and not a gap in 
 the fence." 
 
 " I don't know where he has gone," she 
 answered, rather evasively. 
 
 " That is, you are a nat'ral-bom know- 
 nothing. Well, it will assist your memory, 
 perhaps, to stretch your neck a little, jist to 
 take the kinks out, you know ; so pass your 
 shock of tow into this 'ere noose, while I 
 
 pull you up on that limb." And suiting the 
 action to the word he flimg the noose dex- 
 trously over her head. She was taken by 
 surprise, and trembling in every limb, 
 asked : 
 
 " Would yqn hang me ?" 
 
 " Sartain as there's a tree and here's a 
 rope." 
 
 " I don't know where Walker is, but I 
 think he has a place of refuge down the 
 river, near the Ghost Swamp. There is a 
 cave in the river's bank, opposite to the 
 swamp, where I know his confederates oc- 
 casionally secrete themselves. He may have 
 gone there ; but, as he has been gone over 
 two days, I don't see why he should be 
 there now. It is my opinion, liowever, that 
 Miss Mamie, as you call her, is there, as it 
 is the best place to keep her." 
 
 " Ah, thank you, old Mrs. Crow's-foot 
 There is something more on your mind. 
 isn't there?" 
 
 Madge looked at him inquiringly. 
 
 " I know all about your friend's visit ; so 
 do you jist play your cards right, or I'll 
 catch ye niggin." 
 
 This allnsion to her " friend " startled the 
 old woman. 
 
 " He was no friend of mine ; he came 
 along on his own account, and I only gave 
 him bread, as I give any one who is 
 himgry." 
 
 "AH right; only, what did he tell you?" 
 
 She hesitated. Nettleton gave the rope 
 a twitch, and looked up at the limb. The 
 hint was enough. 
 
 " The man said he was up from below on 
 a scout. He was anxious to know what I 
 knew about the voice of a woman which 
 he said had been heard all along the river. 
 He heard it distinctly as he passed the road 
 along the river by the Ghost Swamp ; 
 others had heard it, and he believed that I 
 could tell him as to its meaning. I told 
 him it was a sign that he was singled out 
 for death — that every person who heard it 
 was called, and he might, therefore, make 
 up his mind that his time was come. With 
 that he left. I did not inform him of who 
 was in my cabin, nor any thing about what 
 had happened here. So I hope you will 
 let me go, and frighten me no more." 
 
 Nettleton slowly lifted the noose from 
 her neck, and, without another word, 
 walked back to the cabin. He called out 
 Lieutenant Wells, who was then watching 
 at the captam's bedside, and the two friends 
 held a long consultation together^ which 
 
THE CONFEDERATE AT BAY. 
 
 43 
 
 ended by an order for a guard of twenty to 
 be ready for a night expedition. 
 
 By ten o'clock all were in readiness and 
 on their way, taking the river path down 
 stream. "Wells was in command. Nettle- 
 tou acted as scout and gfMe. All night 
 long they pressed on, and daylight 
 found them on the hills opposite the spot 
 indicated by Madge as the locality of the 
 cave in the bank. Asking Wells for his 
 field-glass, Nettleton carefully scrutinized the 
 river's bank opposite. After a short survey 
 he suddenl)'- exclaimed : 
 
 " The Ingen, as sure as Sacramento !" 
 
 " What do you say ?" inquired Wells. 
 
 " Fall-leaf — see him — there he lays, and 
 there is the cave. I'm blest if I know what 
 to make of it. I supposed, of course, that 
 that red-skin was roasted alive in the mill ; 
 but there he is, and liere I goes." 
 
 So saying, down he dashed into the river, 
 and forded its waters rapidly. Once on the 
 opposite side, he hurried up the bank, and 
 soon reached the ledge across which the 
 Indian was lying. The poor fellow was 
 but half conscious from over-fatigue and 
 hunger, yet his eyes were fixed with cat-like 
 vigilance upon the aperture of the cave, 
 while his hand still firmly clasped the knife 
 upon which he relied to do his deadly 
 work. 
 
 Nettleton approached him silently, and 
 touched his feet. At once the Indian looked 
 behind him. 
 
 " Give Fall-leaf drink — quick !" was his 
 hurried whisper, while the finger on his lip 
 indicated silence. 
 
 Nettleton comprehended all at a glance. 
 Passing his canteen and knapsack to Fall- 
 leaf, he beheld' the Indian drink and eat 
 with satisfaction. Not a word passed be- 
 tween them. 
 
 " Good ! Fall-leaf 7nuch weak ; now strong 
 again," he whispered. 
 
 " Where's Miss Mamie ?" 
 
 The Indian pointed to the cavern. 
 
 " Walker, too ?" 
 
 Pall-leaf nodded, and scowled so fiercely 
 that Nettleton perceived the savage wanted 
 no interference in his case. 
 
 " Shan't I do the job for ye ?" 
 
 " No — Fall-leaf mad. Me kiU 'em — ^you 
 go way." 
 
 " That's the talk, Ingen. You shall have 
 your man ; but, Jerusalem, don't I ache to 
 git my paws on him !" 
 
 A noise was now heard in the cave ; it 
 was Walker's voice. " I'll not permit you 
 
 to sing, I again tell you. If those men 
 crossing the river are Union soldiers, you 
 shall not betray our whereabouts, and if 
 Fall-leaf moves I'll shoot him !" 
 
 " Bah, you omerj- cuss ; Pm on your 
 track now !" shouted Nettleton. 
 
 " William — dear William !" cried the cap- 
 tive woman, recognizing his voice. 
 
 " Here /" he responded, " and so chock 
 full of the devil that if I don't get rid of it 
 soon it will spile me. Walker, you dirty 
 beast, dare you fight me ?" he yelled. 
 
 " I dare fight any decent antagonist, but 
 don't care to dirty my hands with you," 
 was the reply. 
 
 " Oh, you nasty, miserable, thievin' 
 woman-stealer, man-assassinator. I'll cook 
 your breakfast for you, but Fall-leaf shall 
 eat it ; Jie'U dirty has hands with yo^i !" 
 
 " I defy you and all your crew," growled 
 the rebel. " If one of you dares to show 
 your head, you are a dead man !" 
 
 " Blast yer picter, here's a head — shoot 
 it 1" cried Nettleton, sticking his head out 
 in a manner to dare Walker's fire; 
 
 The scoundrel was prepared, and dis- 
 charged his gun in an instant. Its report 
 had not ceased its echo ere Fall-leaf, with a 
 bound like a panther, dropped before the 
 entrance of the hole. Walker stood there 
 with knife in hand, to foil any such attempt 
 to storm his castle. A quick blow with his 
 foot sent the Indian headlong over the 
 ledge. 
 
 " Try that on me," roared Nettleton,who, 
 uninjured by the ball from Walker's musket, 
 was at the Indian's heels. 
 
 No sooner said than done, and Nettletcfti 
 received an unexpected blow in the bowels 
 from the rebel's heavy boot which sent him 
 almost instantly over the ledge after Fall- 
 leaf. 
 
 That was the propitious moment for 
 escape. Without a word to his captive, he 
 passed out upon the ledge, and had nearly 
 reached its terminus when Lieutenant Wells, 
 followed by his men, confronted the desper- 
 ate man. Drawing his revolver. Wells 
 cried : 
 
 " Surrender or you are a dead man !" 
 
 " I never will surrender to you," was the 
 fierce reply, as the now cornered desperado 
 began slowly to retire, backward, to regain 
 his stronghold. 
 
 He had retreated fully half-way to the 
 entrance, when his heel caught in the rough 
 floor of the ledge, and his balance was 
 lost. For a moment he sought to regain 
 
44 
 
 THE PRISONER OP THE MILL. 
 
 liis foothold, but, finding it gone, he gave a 
 shout and leaped over the precipice. 
 
 The soldiers looked over the ledge and 
 saw his form disappear in the trees beneath. 
 Wells did not wait, but rushed to the cavern 
 mouth. 
 
 " Miss Mamie." 
 
 A form darkened the passage, and within 
 stood Miss Hayward, smiling and blushing 
 as if just caught at her toilet. 
 
 With a cry of joy Wells entered and 
 clasped her to his bosom. 
 
 " Safe and iminjured ! Thank God — 
 thank God !" answered the maiden. 
 
 " Safe and restored ; . and, thank God, 
 your brother, too, is recovered, and is now 
 in our liands, doing well !" 
 
 " Then I am happy, indeed !" she could 
 only reply, while tears of joy checked fur- 
 ther utterance. 
 
 Wells had entirely forgotten Walker, in 
 his moment of sweet communion with his 
 restored friend. But, a shout which came 
 up from the depths below recalled him to 
 duty. It was a wild Indian war-whoop ; 
 then a succession of ejaculations which the 
 men could plainly distinguish. 
 
 " Go in, Ingen !" " Walk along, Walker, 
 you darn skunk you !" " There, that's a good 
 un, Ingen !" " Now another in the corn- 
 crib !" " There he goes !" " Hooray for the 
 Ingen !" 
 
 All well knew the meaning of this, and 
 a number of the men hastened to the base 
 of the cliff, by a long, roundabout path, 
 which came up from the river at the ford 
 bflow. They arrived to find Walker slain, 
 and Fall-leaf badly cut in the face, arms 
 and shoulders, but no serious wounds on 
 the body. Nettleton stood over his friend, 
 bathing his woimds in the clear waters of 
 the river. 
 
 " Ingen's done for the cut-throat, sure. 
 It was mean to shut me out ; but it was his 
 game, 'cause he treed it. I'd give all I'll 
 ever be worth — " 
 
 " Would you give Sally ?" put in one of 
 the men. 
 
 " Dang Sally — no, dang my skin — that 
 is, dang me if I wouldn't give my commis- 
 sion, boys, that's it ! give my commission to 
 have had the satisfsxction of doin' Fall-leaf's 
 work." Nettleton looked savagely at the 
 body of the dead man, seeming to feel that 
 he had made a personal sacrifice in permit- 
 ting the Indian to kill his enemy. 
 
 It would appear that both Fall-leaf and 
 Nettleton, when kicked off the ledge, fell at 
 
 \ 
 
 its foot without injury, as the base was 
 banked up to a considerable distance with 
 the decayed and water-soaked debi-vi of the 
 bank, down which they rolled into the 
 water. They had recovered, and stepped 
 out into the stflpkn to look up to the ledge, 
 when they beheld Wells and Walker con- 
 fronted. In a moment the rebel staggered, 
 and went bounding off the ledge, and, like 
 his two antagonists, came tumbling and 
 sliding down the declivity, landing at the 
 water's brink upon his feet. There he was 
 received by the Indian, with the wild 
 whoop which startled those above. Nettle- 
 ton, in honor bound not to interfere, stood 
 by while the two fierce foes closed in deadly 
 conflict. Walker, though a resolute and 
 strong man, was not equal in a knife fight 
 to the supple savage, iyier a few passes, 
 Fall-leaf buried his knife in the rebel's 
 bosom. Thus closed the career of a bad 
 man — bad by nature, but rendered doubly 
 bad by the cause which he espoused. To 
 serve that cause he had to betray his coim- 
 try, desert his friends, stifle the voice of 
 conscience, perjure his honor, become a 
 hypocrite and a deceiver: after that, all 
 other degrees of crime were easy. 
 
 Wells followed the men at length, and 
 appeared on the spot. He was shocked at 
 the sight before him, but conceded its jus- 
 tice. His own wish was to have secured 
 Walker for trial and punishment according 
 to military law ; yet, it must be acknow- 
 ledged that, many times, he felt like wreak- 
 ing condign personal vengeance on the 
 head of the man who had wrought so suc- 
 cessfully in ci-ime. He ordered the body 
 to be buried in the debris at the foot of the 
 cliff; and there it reposes to-day, with no 
 monument save the cave above, which will 
 long remain as a witness to the traitor's 
 crime and traitor's doom. 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 The Body- Guard's Sickriess and Dure. 
 
 SlowXiY the party wended its way back to 
 the mill. Just at nightfall it came in sight 
 of the lowly hut which covered the treasure 
 so dear to the heart of the rescued maiden. 
 How her eager arms longed to clasp her 
 brother's form to her bosom — how her ears 
 longed for the sound of his voice ! The 
 wings of the swallow would have been 
 slow for her pining soul ; but the mornent 
 
THE APPARITION. 
 
 45 
 
 of reunion came at last — the dead vf&a 
 made alive, the lost restored. Miss Hay- 
 ward, gallanted by Wells, pressed on ahead 
 of the troop, and their panting steeds at 
 length stood riderless befogBttie cabin-door, 
 for the riders had disappejwlR within. 
 
 The meeting of brother and sister was 
 one of mingled pleasure and pam. Both 
 had suffered so much that to think of it 
 was pain. Captain Bayward was greatly 
 emaciated. Loss of blood, fever, hunger 
 and exposure would have .ended a life less 
 tenacious than his ; but, despite his suflfering, 
 the presence of friends, the rescue of his 
 sister, the anticipated happiness of her union 
 with the man who had proven himself so 
 well worthy of her — all conspu'ed to give an 
 elasticity to his spirits more potent than the 
 infusions of herbs prepared by the not un- 
 skilled hands of old Madge, who, from an 
 enemy, had, " by the force of couldn't help 
 herself," as Nettleton declared, become a 
 useful instrument at a critical moment. 
 
 And what about Nettleton? All day 
 long after the morning's experience at the 
 cave, he had plodded on soberly, somewhat 
 absorbed in his own reflections. Behind 
 him sat Fall-leaf, who, from his weak state, 
 was well content to ride. The Indian, 
 though perfectly silent and apparently indif- 
 ferent to all things, now that his work was 
 done, still was inwardly pleased at the res- 
 cue and the thought of the pleasure in store 
 for the captain, of whose safety he had been 
 informed by Nettleton ; and he was quite 
 willing to go into camp for a few days 
 before putting out again on his endless 
 scouts. 
 
 " Nettle be sick?" he at length asked of 
 his companion. 
 
 " Not by a dam sight, Ingen ?" 
 
 " Nettle be sick — Fall-leaf knows it !" 
 
 " You be danged to damation, you red 
 onion-head of a Delaware !" was the some- 
 what excited answer, as he turned in the 
 saddle and stared the Indian in the face. 
 
 Fall-leaf smiled. " Nettle want physic — 
 Miss Long give Nettle physic," he obsti- 
 nately persisted. 
 
 " Now look here, Mr. Ingen, ef you wants 
 to flgliifc^jest you say so, and I'll be cata- 
 wampussed ef I don't lick you wuss'n a 
 nigger what's got ^ mad woman arter 
 him !" 
 
 " Fall-leaf no want to fight Nettle. May- 
 be whip Nettle — den what Miss Long 
 Bay?" 
 
 " Toh — ^yoh I j( \ mean, sneakia' son of 
 
 a brick-kiln I Ef you don't stop that clap- 
 per in your head, I'll be switched ef I don't 
 put a peg tlu-ough it!" And he set his 
 face fii-mly to the front, roweled the horse 
 severely with his spurs, and dashed ahead 
 at a speed quite uncomfortable to the pro- 
 voking Delaware. 
 
 When the cavalcade reached the cabin, 
 Nettleton did not obtrude himself upon the 
 party within. For an hour or more they 
 were alone. At length Hayward asked: 
 " Where is my brave preserver ? Why is he 
 not here to enjoy our happiness? And 
 Fall-leaf, too ; I would thank him as he de- 
 serves, the noble and devoted savage." 
 
 Search was made. Fall-leaf was found 
 out by the camp-fire, undergoing the pro- 
 cess of the lotion-cure for his wounds, at the 
 hands of Madge, who was carefully wash- 
 ing the bruised and cut flesh of the red-man. 
 AH inquiries for Nettleton were fruitless ; 
 he was not to be found. It was ascertained, 
 at length, that his horse also was gone. 
 Many were the surmises as to the cause of 
 his absence, and fears were expressed for his 
 safety. 
 
 Morning came, and the party, now re- 
 joined by the entire battalion, prepared to 
 move, by easy stages, ft-om the valley to- 
 ward the line of march pursued, by the 
 retreating army. Captain Hayward was 
 made quite comfortable in a camp-wagon, 
 with his sister for companion and nurse. 
 Fall-leaf pushed out far ahead to scout and 
 secure the command from surprise. Adju- 
 tant Hinton and Wells were tireless in their 
 devotion to the comfort and safety of their 
 charge. It was a pleasant journey — that 
 week of slow progress toward Tipton. ^ At 
 length, however, the village hove in sight. 
 The white tents dotting the hills and val- 
 \r,%s proved that the division was there. 
 While yet a long way off', a party of horse- 
 men, accompanied by ladies, was seen 
 dashing ofl" at full speed toward the spot 
 where the battalion had halted for its noon 
 bivouac. Wells caught sight of the party, 
 and with his glass made out the gaunt form 
 of Nettleton far ui advance. Behind him 
 on the same horse rode a female, whose 
 identity the officer could not fix. Nearer 
 and nearer the horsemen came, until, after 
 an exciting race, they dashed into the 
 camp — Nettleton and Sally Long ! They 
 were received with a wild huzza from the 
 entire troop, and none shouted louder than 
 Nettleton himself 
 
 " Hooray ! hooray ! By the eternal jingo T' 
 
46 
 
 THE PRISONER OF THE MILL. 
 
 he cried, leaping from the horse, and leaving 
 Miss Sally sitting there alone, before the 
 eyes of the joyous and excited troops. 
 Making his way to the captain's " marquee " 
 — as the men had named the wagon — 
 he was welcomed by Hay ward in a- manner 
 which quickly turned his servant's joy to 
 mourning, for the embrace of real affection 
 bestowed quite upset Nettlcton's confidence. 
 
 " Pm nothin' but a great darn skunk, any 
 how !" he exclaimed, as, breaking away 
 from the captain's embrace, he started for 
 his horse and the neglected Sally. 
 
 " Nettle be sick !" 
 
 He turned to behold Fall-leaf gazing 
 upon him in mock compassion. 
 
 " Not by a danged sight, you infernal 
 lump of glory !" he now shouted, as, clasp- 
 ing the Indian in his arms, he gave the red- 
 man a hug which brought forth a grunt. 
 
 " Ugh ! Nettle make Fall-leaf sick ! 
 Guess Nettle got full of Miss Sally now !" 
 
 " Yes, sar ; and thar she is, in all her 
 glory !" was the rejoinder, as the " body- 
 guard" pointed, in evident pride, to the 
 smiling woman. 
 
 " Gentlemen of the jury ! let me present 
 to you my wife — the dangdest sk — no, the 
 most blissful woman you ever saw." 
 
 " Tour wife !" exclaimed a dozen voices 
 at once. 
 
 " Yes, my wife ! Hitched to me tighter'n 
 a handle to the jug, by Chaplain Disbrow, 
 two days ago, by the eternal jingo I" 
 
 This was enough for the men. All order 
 gave way before the hilarious uproar which 
 followed. They pressed around Sally to 
 offer their congratulations, which the de- 
 lighted wife ^Jih-ed with great good-nature 
 and dignity, s^Feitting where she had been 
 left — behind the saddh', on the hoi-sc. 
 
 At this moment the party first descried 
 rode up. It was composed of Mrs. Ilinton, 
 Miss Morton and a number of friends eager 
 to welcome the captain and his sister, of 
 whose fortunes Nettleton had most unex- 
 pectedly, three days before, brought the news 
 to camp. That it was a joyous meeting 
 may well be assumed. 
 
 Does not our story here end ? To say 
 that Miss Mamie Hayward soon became 
 Mrs. Wells, in the presence of the whole 
 division — that a grand gala- day followed — 
 is but half the truth, however ; for, at the 
 same time, another bridegroom was there in 
 the form of the pale but happy Captain 
 Henry Hayward, who took to be his com- 
 forter and his much-needed nurse, the 
 woman who loved him most truly — Miss 
 Nettie Morton. It was, indeed, a most 
 happy consmnmation of a drama wliich 
 promised, at one time, to end only in sor- 
 row and broken hearts. 
 
 Not the least happy of all that throng, 
 nor the least noted, was 
 
 Nettleton, the Captatn^'s Bodt-Guakd. 
 
 'r mr, 'ESD, 
 
 '"-x