Part 31 (1/2)

The Long Roll Mary Johnston 41050K 2022-07-22

”She loves you--She is going to marry you?”

”Yes.”

The wood stood very quiet. The shaft of light drew up among the boughs.

Stafford leaned against the trunk of the beech. He was breathing heavily; he looked, veritably, a wounded man. ”I will go now,” said Cleave. ”I had to speak to you and I had to warn you. Good-day.”

He turned, the leaves crisp beneath his footfall. ”Wait,” said Stafford.

”One moment--” He drew himself up against the beech. ”I wish to tell you why I--as you phrase it--lied to you. I allowed you to rest under that impression which I am not sure that I myself gave you, because I thought her yet trembling between us, and that your withdrawal would be advantageous to my cause. Not for all of Heaven would I have had her turn to you! Now that, apparently, I have lost her irrevocably, I will tell you that you do not love her as I do. Have I not watched you? Did she die to-day, you would go on to-morrow with your _Duty_--_Duty_--_Duty_--! For me, I would kill myself on her grave. Where you and I were rivals and enemies, now we are enemies. Look out for me, Richard Cleave!” He began to laugh, a broken and mirthless sound. ”Look out for me, Richard Cleave. Go!”

”I shall,” said Cleave. ”I will not keep a watch upon you in such a moment, nor remember it. I doubt neither your pa.s.sion nor your suffering. But in one thing, Maury Stafford, you have lied again. I love as strongly, and I love more highly than you do! As for your threats--threatened men live long.”

He turned, left the forest glade and came out into the camp lying now beneath the last rays of the sun. That evening he spent with Ewell and his staff, pa.s.sed the night in a friendly tent, and at dawn turned Dundee's head toward the Blue Ridge.

CHAPTER XVIII

McDOWELL

At Stanardsville he heard from a breathless crowd about the small hotel news from over the mountains. Banks was at last in motion--was marching, nineteen thousand strong, up the Valley--had seized New Market, and, most astounding and terrific of all to the village boys, had captured a whole company of Ashby's! ”General Jackson?” General Jackson had burned the railway station at Mt. Jackson and fallen back--was believed to be somewhere about Harrisonburg.

”Any other news?”

”Yes, sir! Fremont's pressing south from Moorefield, Milroy east from Monterey! General Edward Johnson's had to fall back from the Alleghenies!--he's just west of Staunton. He hasn't got but a brigade and a half.”

”Anything more?”

”Stage's just brought the Richmond papers. All about Albert Sydney Johnston's death at s.h.i.+loh. He led the charge and a minie ball struck him, and he said 'Lay me down. Fight on.'”

”Fort Pulaski's taken! The darned gunboats battered down the wall. All of the garrison that ain't dead are prisoners.”

”News from New Orleans ain't hilarious. d.a.m.ned mortar boats bombard and bombard!--four s.h.i.+ps, they say, against Fort Saint Philip, more against Fort Jackson. Air full of sh.e.l.ls. Farragut may try to run forts and batteries, Chalmette and all--”

”What else?”

”Looks downright bad down t' Richmond. McClellan's landed seventy-five thousand men. Magruder lost a skirmish at Yorktown. All the Richmond women are making sandbags for the fortifications. Papers talk awful calm and large, but if Magruder gives way and Johnston can't keep McClellan back, I reckon there'll be h.e.l.l to pay! I reckon Richmond'll fall.”

”Anything more?”

”That's all to-day.”

The village wag stepped forth, half innocent and half knave. ”Saay, colonel! The prospects of this here Confederacy look rather _blue_.”

”It is wonderful,” said Cleave, ”how quickly blue can turn to grey.”

A portion of that night he spent at a farmhouse at the western mouth of Swift Run Gap. Between two and three he and Harris and Dundee and the grey were again upon the road. It wound through forests and by great mountains, all wreathed in a ghostly mist. The moon shone bright, but the cold was clinging. It had rained and on the soft wood road the horses feet fell noiselessly. The two men rode in silence, cloaks drawn close, hats over their eyes.

Behind them in the east grew slowly the pallor of the dawn. The stars waned, the moon lost her glitter, in the woods to either side began a faint peeping of birds. The two came to Conrad's Store, where the three or four houses lay yet asleep. An old negro, sweeping the ground before a smithy, hobbled forward at Harris's call. ”Lawd, marster, enny news? I specs, sah, I'll hab ter ax you 'bout dat. I ain' heard none but dat dar wuz er skirmish at Rude's Hill, en er skirmish at New Market, en er-nurr skirmish at Sparta, en dat Gineral Jackson hold de foht, sah, at Harrisonburg, en dat de Yankees comin', lickerty-split, up de Valley, en dat de folk at Magaheysville air powerful oneasy in dey minds fer fear dey'll deviate dis way. Howsomever, we's got er home guard ef dey do come, wid ole Mr. Smith what knew Gin'ral Was.h.i.+ngton at de haid. En dar wuz some bridges burnt, I hearn, en Gineral Ashby he had er fight on de South Fork, en I cyarn think ob no mo' jes now, sah! But Gineral Jackson he sholy holdin' de foht at Harrisonburg.--Yes, sah, dat's de Magaheysville road.”

The South Fork of the Shenandoah lay beneath a bed of mist. They crossed by a wooden bridge and came up again to the chill woods. Dim purple streaks showed behind them in the east, but there was yet no glory and no warmth. Before them rose a long, low mountain ridge, a road running along the crest. ”That certainly is d.a.m.n funny!” said Harris; ”unless I've taken to seeing sights.”

Cleave checked his horse. Above them, along the ridge top, was moving an army. It made no noise on the soft, moist road, artillery wheel and horse's hoof quiet alike. It seemed to wish to move quietly, without voice. The quarter of the sky above the ridge was coldly violet, palely luminous. All these figures stood out against it, soldiers with their muskets, colour-bearer with furled colours, officers on foot, officers on horseback, guns, caissons, gunners, horses, forges, ordnance wagons, commissary--van, main body and rear, an army against the daybreak sky.

”Well, if ever I saw the like of that!” breathed the orderly. ”What d'ye reckon it means, sir?”