The Master of Warlock: A Virginia War Story

"I will be glad to carry out your orders, General."

Agatha said nothing. What she thought and felt, it would be idle to inquire.

XVIII

A brush at the front

A situation which might have become embarrassing, had it been prolonged, was relieved at that moment by the arrival of a courier who had come in hot haste with messages from the front.

The enemy was moving upon Fairfax Court-house in three columns and in strong force. The light of battle came into Stuart's eyes as he received the news, and he issued hurried orders to his staff-officers as one after another they came up at a gallop. To Agatha he said:

"Remain here, you and the other ladies, unless orders come for you to leave. I must borrow Captain Pegram from your service for a time, if I may."

"Gladly!" answered the girl, and her tone sorely puzzled Baillie Pegram. But there was no time for speculation upon its meaning, for Stuart turned to him and ordered:

"Take your battery down the Vienna road, and act with Fitz Lee or whomever else you find there. Move rapidly, but spare your horses all you can."

Then hurriedly turning to the couriers and staff-officers who stood by their horses, he issued orders with the rapidity of one who recites the alphabet or the multiplication table. Within the space of two minutes he had assigned every brigade and regiment under his command to its post and duty, and had sent to General Johnston at Centreville a request that infantry supports might be moved forward and held within call in case of need. A minute later he was a-gallop for the front.

Baillie had preceded him, and even before the general had reached Fairfax Court-house, Pegram's battery was hurrying down the Vienna road, with the First and Fourth Regiments of Virginia cavalry just in front. It was the work of a very few moments to form these forces and others that were coming up, into a line of battle, facing the enemy, but by the time they were in position, Stuart himself came up and took command.

"Tell Captain Pegram," he said to a staff-officer, "to advance his battery to the brow of the hill yonder, and open a vigorous fire upon whatever he finds in front. Order Colonel Jones of the First Regiment to take position immediately in rear of the battery, and support it at all hazards."

Within less time than it takes to write the words, Baillie Pegram's guns were hurling shrapnel into the face of the enemy, whose response was menacingly slow and deliberate.

"That looks," said Stuart, presently, to one who rode by his side, "as if they meant business this time. Send orders to the infantry in rear to form a second line, and be ready in case we are beaten back."

It should be explained that during the autumn of 1861 McClellan sent out many expeditions, each wearing the aspect of an advance in force against the Confederate position at Centreville. These movements were in reality intended as threats, and nothing more. The chief purpose of them was to keep the Confederates uneasy, and at the same time to accustom the Federal volunteers to stand fire and to contemplate battle in earnest as the serious business of the soldier.

These advances were made always with a brave show of infantry, cavalry, and artillery, and with all the seeming of the vanguard of an army intending battle. But after a heavy skirmish the columns were always withdrawn, leaving only picket-lines at the front. McClellan was not yet ready to offer battle. It was during that period that President Lincoln, weary of McClellan's delay and inactivity, sarcastically said that if the general had no use for the army, he (Lincoln) would like to borrow it for awhile.

But this day's movement differed in some respects from those that had gone before. It involved a much heavier force, for one thing, and the proportion of artillery to the other arms was greater. Still more significant was the fact that the commander of the expedition, instead of making the customary dash, threw forward a heavy skirmish-line, holding his main body in reserve, and otherwise conducting himself after the fashion of a general sent to hold the front with as little fighting as might be, until a much heavier force could be brought up.

It was Stuart's duty, as the commander of the cavalry, to find out as quickly as possible what lay behind the lines that confronted him, in order that he might know and report precisely what and how much the movement meant. To that end he sent for Colonel Jones, of the First Regiment, and when that most unmilitary-looking of hard fighters presented himself in his faded yellow coat, the pot hat which he always wore at that time, and with his peculiar nasal drawl, Stuart gave the order:

"Take your right company and ride to the right around the flank of the enemy's line. Find out what it amounts to. See if there are baggage and ammunition trains in rear, and if they mean business. The whole thing is probably as hollow as a gourd, but it may be otherwise. Go and find out."

In the meantime, Stuart had dismounted a part of his forces, and ordered them with their carbines to form a skirmish-line on foot in front. The rest of his men – three thousand stalwart young cavaliers, mounted upon horses that had pedigrees behind them – were drawn up in double ranks wherever there was space for a regiment, a company, or a squad of them to stand.

Then came half an hour of waiting. The enemy had thrown additional infantry forward, and the skirmishing grew steadily heavier, as if the Federal skirmish-line were being reinforced from moment to moment.

In fact, that heavy advance-line embraced all there was of the Federal movement, as Colonel Jones discovered, when with a single company of horsemen he gained the enemy's rear. There were no baggage or provision or ammunition trains to indicate a serious purpose of giving battle.

The captain of the company which Colonel Jones had taken with him on this mission of discovery, was a reticent person, but a man of quick wits, ready resource, and a daring that always had a relish of humour in it. When Colonel Jones suggested a return march around the enemy's left flank, the captain asked:

"Why not take a short cut?" and when asked for his meaning, answered:

"It's an egg-shell, that line. The quickest way of letting Stuart know the fact, it seems to me, would be to break through right here. He won't be long in getting to windward of the situation when he sees us coming."

The suggestion was instantly acted upon, with a startling dramatic result. With a yell that made them seem a regiment of howling demons, the fifty or sixty men charged upon the rear of the line and broke through it. Even before the head of their little column showed itself on the farther side, their yells had made sufficient report of the facts to the alert mind of Jeb Stuart. He instantly led his entire force forward to the charge.

There was a clatter of hoofs, a clangour of sabres, a rattle of small arms, and a roar from Baillie Pegram's guns. Everything was shrouded in an impenetrable cloud of dust and powder-smoke.

The enemy stood fast for a time, resisting obstinately and fairly checking the tremendous onset. It was not until a brigade of infantry and three full batteries had been brought into action that the Federals gave way. Even then, they retreated in orderly fashion, with no suggestion of panic or loss of cohesion.

"George B. McClellan has at last got his army into fighting shape," commented Stuart, when all was over. "He's going to give us trouble from this time forth."

The Federals were in full retreat, but their steadiness did not encourage Stuart to send small forces in pursuit. He contented himself with advancing his line half a mile for purposes of observation, after which, as the night was falling, he ordered a general return of his regiments to their encampments.

When all was over, there were found to be many empty saddles in Stuart's command. Among them was that which Baillie Pegram had ridden during the morning's journey with Agatha Ronald.

XIX

Agatha's resolution

The reports which came to Stuart from the several commands that evening included one from the senior lieutenant of Baillie Pegram's battery. After reading it, Stuart took Agatha aside, and said:

"I have news which it will not be pleasant for you to hear. Captain Pegram is badly wounded, and in the hands of the enemy."

The girl paled to the lips, but controlled herself, and replied in a voice constrained but steady:

"Tell me about it, General – all of it, please."

"I'll tell you all that is known. Captain Pegram is an unusually energetic officer, with a bad habit of getting himself wounded. His battery to-day was in the extreme advance, but it seems that a little hill just in front of him interfered with the fire of one of his guns, and so he advanced with that piece to the crest of the mound. At that moment the enemy made a dash at that point, and it became necessary to retire the gun to prevent its capture. Pegram gave orders to that effect, and they were executed. But almost as the orders left his lips, he fell from his horse with a bullet-hole through his body. His men tried to bring him off, but that involved the risk of losing the gun, so he peremptorily ordered them to save the gun and leave him where he lay. The enemy's line swarmed over the little hill, and when our men recovered it, Pegram was nowhere to be found. The enemy had evidently carried him to the rear to care for him as a wounded prisoner."

"Can anything be done?" the girl asked, still with an apparent calm that would have deceived a less sagacious observer than Stuart.

"I could send a flag of truce to-morrow to ask concerning him, but it would be of no use. You see the enemy refuses as yet to recognise our rights as belligerents, and will not communicate with us in proper form. Their answer would come back addressed to me, but carefully lacking all indication of my character as an officer in the Confederate army. Under my orders I could not receive a communication so addressed. It would be of no use, therefore, to inquire, and in any case we could not secure his exchange, as we have now no exchange cartel in force. I do not see that we can do anything."

The young woman stood silent for a full minute, while Stuart looked at her, full of an admiration for the courage she was manifesting. At last she asked:

"General, will you send to the camp of Captain Pegram's battery, and bid his servant report here to me at once?"

For reply Stuart called Corporal Hagan – the swarthy giant who had charge of his couriers – and ordered him to send a courier on Agatha's mission without delay.

Half an hour later Sam presented himself with eyes red from weeping, and Agatha proceeded at once to business.

"You care a great deal for your master, don't you, Sam?"

"Kyar for Mas' Baillie? Ain't I his nigga? An' ain't he de mastah of Warlock? Kyar for him? Why, Mis' Agatha, I'se ready to lay down an' die dis heah very minute 'case he's done got hisse'f shot an' captured."

"Then you are willing to take some risks for his sake?"

"Sho' as shootin' I is. Yes, sho'er'n shootin', 'case shootin' ain't always sho'. Jes' you tell me how to do anything for Mas' Baillie, an' then bet all the money you done got, an' put your mortal soul into de bet, dat Sam'll face de very debil hisse'f to carry out yer 'structions."

"I believe you, Sam, and I'm going to trust you. You will go with me to Willoughby to-morrow. We'll start soon in the morning and get there before night. From there I'm going to send you north to find your master. I'll tell you how to do it. When you find him, you are to stay with him and nurse him, no matter where he is. And when he gets well enough, you must find some way of setting him free from the hospital so that he can make his way back to Virginia again."

"But, Mis' Agatha, how's I to – "

"Never mind the details now. I'll tell you about all that when I get my plans ready. I'll tell you everything you must do and how to do it, so far as I can, and you must depend on your wits for the rest. You're pretty quick, I think."

"Yes'm; anyhow I kin see through a millstone ef there's a hole through it. But, Mis' Agatha, is you sho' 'nuff gwine to tell me how to fin' Mas' Baillie an' take kyar o' him?"

Agatha reassured him, and sent him off to sleep in order to be ready for their early start in the morning. Then she joined Stuart and asked him:

"Did you pick up any prisoners near the point where Captain Pegram fell?"

"I really don't know. Why?"

"Why, if you did you'd know to what command they belonged, and that would help me."

"Help you? Why, what are you planning?"

"To find Captain Pegram."

"But how?"

"Through my agents, – and Sam, his body-servant."

"O, I see. Your underground railroad is to have a passenger traffic. I'll find out what you wish to know. And if you'd like I'll have Sam passed through our lines, after which he can pretend to be a runaway."

"I thought of that," Agatha answered, "but it will not do. I must send him through my friends. You see in Maryland he'll require a slave's pass from a master, and my friends will be his masters, one after another. Besides, they will help me find out in what hospital Captain Pegram is. I've thought it all out. I must first prepare my friends for Sam's coming. With your permission I'll take him with me to Willoughby to-morrow."

"You are a wonderful woman!"

That is all that Stuart said, but it sufficiently suggested the admiration he felt for her courage, her resourcefulness, and her womanly devotion. Bidding her call upon him for any assistance she might need in carrying out her plans, he dismissed her for the night, ordering her to go to sleep precisely as he might have ordered a soldier to go to his tent. But Agatha did not obey as the soldier would have done. She went to bed, indeed, but she could not sleep. Her nerves were all a-quiver as the result of the trying experiences to which she had been subjected, until now her excited brain simply would not sink into quietude. She lay hour after hour staring into the darkness, thinking, thinking, thinking. She remembered the words that suffering on her account had wrung from Baillie Pegram that morning at the bivouac, and she bitterly reproached herself for having given him no worthier answer than a command to forget what he had said. She knew now with what measure of devotion this man loved her, and she knew something else, too, as she lay there in the darkness face to face with her own soul. She knew now that she loved Baillie Pegram with all that was best in her proud and passionate nature. That truth confronted her. It was "naked and not ashamed." Her conscience scourged her for what she regarded as her heartlessness and frivolity in putting aside his declaration of love with the false pretence that it found no response in her own soul.

"I might at least have thanked him," she thought. "I might at least have said to him 'there is no longer war between me and thee.' And now he lies dead perhaps, or on a bed of suffering, – a wounded prisoner in the hands of the enemy. All that I can now do is to search him out and send Sam to nurse and comfort him." Then a new thought came to her. "That is not all that I can do. Shame upon me for thinking so, even for a moment. I can go to him myself, and I will, if God lets him live long enough. I'll take Sam with me. He can be very helpful in the search, with his sharp wits and the freedom from suspicion which his black face will secure him."

The dawn was breaking now, and a score of bugles were musically sounding the reveille in the camps round about. Agatha rose quickly, and without summoning her weary maid, plunged her face into a basin of cold water half a dozen times. Then seeing in her little mirror how hollow-eyed and haggard she was, she wetted a towel and flagellated herself with it till the colour came back and her nerves lost their tremulousness.

So great a transformation did this treatment work, that Stuart complimented her upon her freshness of face when she appeared at the breakfast-table. He had meanwhile secured for her definite information as to the Federal command that had made Pegram prisoner. He had also managed in some way to secure a side-saddle for her to ride upon, and a squad of cavalrymen, under command of a sergeant, was waiting outside to be her escort on her journey.

"Thank you, General, for giving me so good a mount," she said, glancing with a practised eye at the lean but powerful animal provided for her use.

"You should have a better one, if a better were to be had. You deserve it. By the way, you need not send the horse back by the escort. He will not be needed here, for a time at least."

Agatha looked at him, and then at the animal again, this time recognising it as the one that Baillie Pegram had ridden by her side twenty-four hours before.

"He belongs to Captain Pegram, I believe," she answered.

"Yes, his second horse, and he is specially careful of him."

"I'll see that the animal is well cared for," answered the girl, "until – "

She did not finish the sentence, and Stuart turned away, pretending not to see the tears that stood beneath her eyelids.

XX

Two home-comings

News of Agatha's safe return to Virginia had been sent to Colonel Archer by a courier, on the morning of her arrival at Stuart's headquarters, and the octogenarian promenaded up and down the porch all the next day, during her homeward journey.

He had greatly grieved to have his "ladybird" undertake her late perilous enterprise at all. But with him at least Agatha was accustomed to have her way, and moreover the spirit of the old soldier was strong within him still, so that he was intensely in sympathy with Agatha's courageous purpose to render such service as a woman might to the cause that both had at heart.

But Agatha had a harder task before her now. Remembering the heart-broken tone in which he had bidden her good-bye on the former occasion, and easily imagining the suffering he must have endured during her absence, both from loneliness and from apprehension for her safety, she thought with something like terror of her new necessity of leaving him again, almost in the very hour of his joy at her return. For it was her resolute purpose to set out again within a very few days, – as soon, indeed, as she could feel confidence that her preliminary letters would reach their destination before her own arrival there.

There were other matters that troubled her, too. She must tell her Chummie the reason for her second journey, and that would be a distressing thing for her to do. She must tell him frankly – for she would never in the least trifle with truth, especially in dealing with him – that she had learned to love Baillie Pegram, and that she had in effect put it out of possibility that Baillie Pegram should ever ask for knowledge of that fact.

To a woman of her sensitively proud nature, such a confession, even to her grandfather, seemed almost shameful. She shrank from the very thought of it, and flushed crimson every time it came to her mind during that long day's ride. Yet not for one moment did she falter in her determination to undergo the ordeal. Not for one moment did she entertain a thought of evading the painful confession, or in any way disguising the truth. So much was due to her grandfather, and never in her life had she cheated him of his dues as Chummie. It was due to herself also. To shrink from a duty because of its painfulness would be cowardice, and there was no touch or trace of that most detestable weakness in her soul.

"Anyhow," she resolved, "I'll let him have one whole day of joy before I grieve him with the news that I must go away again. And in telling him of my first journey I'll say as little as I can about the dangers encountered and the hardships endured; I'll make as much of a frolic of it as I can in the telling. Surely there will be no untruthfulness in that."

That day's journey was a long one, but the start was early, and Baillie Pegram's horse was a willing one, as that energetic young man's horses were apt to be, while as for the troopers of the escort, they and their horses were accustomed to follow at any pace their leader might set. It was barely three o'clock in the afternoon, therefore, when the cavalcade arrived at Willoughby, and Agatha threw herself into the old gentleman's arms.

"Oh, Agatha!"

"Oh, Chummie!"

That at first was all that the two could say. When Colonel Archer found voice he greeted the troopers and bade them leave their horses to the care of his servants. For the men were of that class, socially, to which Colonel Archer belonged, and there was no thought at that time in Virginia of treating a gentleman otherwise than as a gentleman, merely because he happened to be a private soldier.

"You will be my guests for the night," the host said, quite as if that settled the matter. But the sergeant had orders which he must obey, – orders which Stuart, with his unfailing foresight, had probably given, to make sure that the presence of his men at Willoughby overnight might not spoil an occasion of tender affection.

"Thank you very cordially, Colonel Archer," answered the sergeant; "but we are under orders to move on toward Loudoun County to-night. We are permitted to rest the horses for three hours only. After that we must march about a dozen miles before sleeping, so that we may complete a little scouting expedition into Loudoun to-morrow. Our orders on that point are peremptory."

"Well, Ladybird, we'll have the gentlemen to dinner at any rate. As soon as I heard of your coming I went out with my gun, and brought back two big wild turkeys, as fat as butter. I thought you might come under escort, so I've had them put both the birds on the spit. I'll wager you gentlemen haven't seen a wild turkey this fall."

So he ran on with his hospitable greetings, managing in his joyous nervousness to upset two of the glasses which he had ordered a servant to bring with the decanters, for the troopers' refreshment. Agatha managed presently to get a word with him aside.

"It is three o'clock, Chummie – an hour before dinner. I'll have time enough to boil myself a little. Think of it, Chummie, I haven't had a hot bath for a whole week!" Then turning to her escort she excused herself until the dinner-hour.

This was an unhappy circumstance, as Agatha learned when she came down, fresh-faced, to the dinner. For, left alone with the troopers, the old gentleman naturally asked them concerning the details of her coming into Stuart's lines, and as the story of her dash through the canister fire was echoing throughout the army, the young fellows grew enthusiastic in their minute descriptions of her peril and her heroism. When Agatha reappeared, therefore, the old gentleman was all a-tremble. He met her at the foot of the stairway, and a little scene followed, which told the girl not only that he knew all that had been most harrowing in her experiences, but that the knowledge of it would make her coming absence cruelly hard for him to bear.

At dinner he found himself too tremulous to carve, and, for the first time in his life, he relinquished that most hospitable of all a host's offices to the younger men.

"Never mind, Ladybird," he said, cheerily, as he saw how greatly troubled she was, "it will pass presently, and you shall find me quite myself again in the morning. We're going after the birds, you know, you and I. I haven't allowed a partridge to be killed on the plantation this fall, so that you might be sure of a good day's sport with Chummie."

Thus it came about that as the old man and the young woman sat in the firelight that evening, after the troopers were gone, Agatha changed her purpose and told him of Baillie Pegram. Delicately, but with perfect candour, she told the whole of the truth.

"I learned to like him very much while I was in Richmond last Christmas, and I was not to blame for that, was I, Chummie? He was so kind to me, so good in a thousand little ways, so gentle in all his strength that he reminded me of you, more than anybody else ever did. I used often to think that he was very much the sort of man you must have been when you were in your twenties. There was no reason, that I knew of, why I should not like him. He was a gentleman, the representative of one of the best families in the State, a man of the highest character, well-educated, travelled, intellectual, and of charming manners. He did more than anybody else – or everybody else for that matter – to make the time pass pleasantly for me. You see how it was, don't you, Chummie?"