Part 10 (2/2)
”Young man!” said Brown, slowly recovering his power of speech. ”When I get my revenge on you, you'll feel it!”
”Whew!” breathed the other.
When dinner was finished, they left the hotel to find a spot where they could talk. Tom told them of the change in plans. It was decided that they should leave for Marietta on the afternoon train, rather than spend the extra day in Chattanooga. Dorsey, who was traveling with Brown, thought that there might be some others who had not been told of the change and who would be on the train.
As they threaded their way through the crowd at the station, Tom caught the first intimation of Mitchel's drive upon Huntsville. ”The train is jam-full,” a man was saying. ”There isn't a seat left. All those soldiers who went through here this morning are being sent back.”
”Why is that?” asked his companion.
”They don't seem to know,” the man continued. ”They got as far as Stevenson-that's a little place down the line about thirty miles-and then they received orders to go back. They're to join Beauregard at Corinth as fast as they can by the way of Atlanta and Meridian.”
”Hm-m-m, that's strange!”
”Perhaps there's a wreck between here and Corinth.”
Tom whispered the news to Brown and Dorsey after they were aboard the train. They exchanged glances.
It was ten o'clock that night when the brakeman of the train called, ”Marietta!” Dorsey was asleep on the coal box of the car, while Tom and Brown dozed against the door. They had taken turns at the coal box for eight hours. Now they moved stiffly out to the platform, relieved that the journey had ended. For several minutes they waited at the station, slowly circulating among the people to see if they could recognize any other members of the expedition.
”I guess we're the only ones here,” said Tom.
”Looks that way,” replied Brown. ”Let's go to the hotel.”
”I'd give a good deal to know where Mitchel is at just this minute,” said Tom.
”So would I,” replied Dorsey. ”I hope we're not making a mistake by delaying a day.”
”It's my opinion,” said Brown, ”that when Mitchel starts to do a thing, it takes more than mud to stop him.”
They walked on silently toward the hotel.
While they drifted off to sleep that night, General Mitchel was perfecting the last details of the attack upon Huntsville. Every road was blocked by scouts to prevent the news of the advance going before them. Ten miles to the south lay Huntsville, unaware of the approaching army.
The last rush of the advance commenced at two o'clock in the morning. Mitchel's weary army struggled to its feet, and stood ready to march. The cavalry was the first away, and disappeared silently into the night. There were no bugle calls, and no shouting. Even the noise of the horses' hoofs was deadened by the deep mud of the road. The four cannons which the cavalry took with it fell into position; then the infantry moved forward. As each regiment pa.s.sed, General Mitchel addressed his men; then when the last of them was on the road, he and his aides pressed towards the front.
When daylight came, the cavalry was four miles from Huntsville. The first section of cavalry galloped to the west of the town, the second to the east, while the remaining cavalrymen, led by General Mitchel, dashed for the station. Now all restraints upon noise were removed. The shouting of the cavalrymen drifted back to the infantrymen to quicken their steps, and the cannons hammered along the road.
A few minutes later, Huntsville was in the control of the Union troops. At the station, Mitchel found fifteen locomotives, eighty cars, and a cipher message from Beauregard to the Confederate Secretary of War. Beauregard was desperately in need of troops, said the decoded message.
CHAPTER EIGHT
THE TRAIN IS CAPTURED
”I have no positive information, but I think that Mitchel captured Huntsville today!”
Andrews was speaking. An exclamation of surprise came from the men who were cl.u.s.tered about him in a room of the hotel at Marietta. There were nineteen of them; travel-worn, tired and still wet from the incessant rain. It was their last conference before the raid.
”The line between Chattanooga and Corinth is blocked,” continued Andrews, ”and no one knows the cause of it. No trains and no telegraph messages are coming through. Of course it may be that Beauregard has heard of Mitchel's advance and has chosen to operate in silence. All that we can do is hope and pray for the best, and carry out our orders. If we can destroy the railroad between here and Chattanooga, it will put the city at Mitchel's mercy. Then our work is done. It will remain for Mitchel and Beauregard to fight it out.”
<script>