Part 14 (1/2)

”You knew what my duty was,” I said, with a sustaining arm about her, ”and you brought me here.”

”But if I had it to do over again I couldn't--I couldn't!” she wailed.

”If you had it to do over again you shouldn't,” I answered; and then I seized her and held her tight in my arms. Nor did I release her until Whistling Jim, coming up and realizing the situation, celebrated it by whistling a jig. ”If you'll say the word,” I declared, ”I'll go with you.”

”I can't! I can't!” she cried. ”Do you say it, and I'll go with you.”

But neither of us said it; something beyond ourselves held us back. I am not sure, after all, that it was a sense of duty; but, whatever it was, it was effectual.

”I am afraid something dreadful will happen to you,” she declared. ”I have dreamed and dreamed about it. You have made a coward of me. I'm not afraid for myself, but for you.”

”One year after the war is over,” I said, ”I shall be at the old tavern in Murfreesborough. One year to a day. Will you meet me there?”

”I'll be there,” she replied, ”or send a messenger to tell you that I am dead.”

And so we parted. I mounted my horse, and she turned her buggy around.

I watched her until she pa.s.sed out of sight, and I knew that one of her little hands must be cold, for she waved it constantly until a turn in the road hid her from view. On the road toward which she was going I could see a group of men and horses, and I knew that her brother awaited her. With a heavy heart, I turned my horse's head, and went galloping after my comrades, followed by Whistling Jim.

I had but one thought, and that was to report to General Forrest as promptly as possible and receive the reprimand that I knew I deserved.

At that time it was the general opinion, even among those of his command who were not thrown into daily contact with him, that this truly great man was of a grim and saturnine disposition. But it was an opinion that did him great injustice. There were times when he fairly bubbled over with boyish humor, and though these moments were rare, he was unfailingly cordial to those that had met his expectations or who had his confidence. He could be grim enough when circ.u.mstances demanded a display of temper, but he had never made me the victim of his displeasure.

I looked forward with no little concern to our next meeting, for I felt that I merited a reprimand, and I knew how severe he could be on such occasions. He was far to the front, as I knew he would be. ”h.e.l.lo, Shannon!” he exclaimed, in response to my salute. His countenance was serious enough, but there was a humorous twinkle in his eye. ”Did you fetch me the fellow I sent you for?”

Thereupon, I related my adventures as briefly as I could. He seemed to be amused at something or other--I have thought since that it must have been at my att.i.tude of self-depreciation--and called two or three of his favorite officers so that they might enjoy it with him. He was highly tickled by the narrative of my experience with the little lady in the top-buggy, though, as a matter of course, I suppressed some of the details.

”Now, I want you all to look at this boy,” he said to his officers when I had concluded. ”He ain't anything but a boy, and yet he did what no other man in my command could have done. He captured Leroy, the fellow you have been reading about, and fetched him to me, and I've put him out of business. There's Goodrum, an old campaigner, a man who knows every man, woman, and child in this part of Tennessee. I put Goodrum on the same trail, and Goodrum's a prisoner. This boy was a prisoner, too, and yet he turns up all right and puts up a poor mouth about what he failed to do. If every man in my command would fail in the same way I'd have the finest body of troops in the army. And look at him blush.

Why, if these other fellows were in your place”--indicating the officers--”they'd be strutting around here like peac.o.c.ks.”

”But, General,” I protested, ”what I did was through my blundering.”

”Then I hope you'll go right ahead with your blunders; you couldn't please me better. I'm going to take you away from the Independents, and I'll put you where I can get my hands on you any hour of the night or day.”

And as he said so it was--and so it remained until the close of the war. Especially was it so when Forrest was ordered to cover Hood's retreat after the disastrous affair at Nashville. History has not made very much of this achievement, but I have always thought that it was the most remarkable episode of the war. Under the circ.u.mstances, no other leader could have accomplished it. No other man could have imposed his personality between the defeated Confederates and their victorious foe, bent on their total destruction. It was little short of wonderful.

I remember that I was shoeless, along with the greater part of my command, though the weather was bitter cold, and my feet were bleeding, and yet when I heard that trumpet voice, ordering us from the wagons to make one more stand, I never thought of my feet. Nor was there a s.h.i.+rker among the men--and all because the leader was Forrest. Nothing but death would have prevented us from responding to his summons. And we saved that defeated army from annihilation, holding the enemy at bay and driving him back, when, if he had known the true condition of affairs, he would have ridden over us roughshod. There were times when we were upon the point of giving way and fleeing before the numbers that were hurled against us. But always the imposing figure of Forrest appeared at the weak point, and then it would be the enemy would give way.

At this point, with only a few more words, my story would have been ended, but the young lady to whom it was first told would not permit it to end there. Her Boston education had not eliminated her curiosity.

She sat looking at her mother with an indescribable expression on her face. I knew not whether she was on the point of laughing or crying, and I think that for a moment the mother was as doubtful as I. She did neither the one nor the other, but went to her mother's chair and kneeled on the floor beside her.