"Good morning, Miss," but eyeing her intently as they passed.She returned the salutation with a firm voice, and rode onward, but at a little distance could not resist the temptation to turn and look backward.To her horror the scout had stopped, half-turned his horse, and was watching her as if debating whether or not to come back after her.She yielded to the impulse of fear, struck her mare a stinging blow, and the animal flew away.
Her fright subsided as she heard no hoof-beats following her, and when she raised her eyes, she saw that she was approaching the village of Lavergne, half-way to Murfreesboro, and that a party of Rebel cavalry were moving toward her.She felt less tremor at this first sight of the armed enemy than she had expected, after her panic over the scout, and rode toward the horsemen with perfect outward, and no little inward composure.
The Lieutenant in command raised his hat with the greatest gallantry.
"Good morning, Miss.From the city, I suppose?" he inquired.
"Yes," she answered in tones as even as if speaking in a parlor;"fortunately, I am at last from the city.I have been trying to get away ever since it seemed hopeless that our people would not redeem it soon."The conversation thus opened was carried on by Rachel giving copious and disparaging information concerning the "Yankees," and the Lieutenant listening in admiration to the musical accents, interrupting but rarely to interject a question or a favorable comment.He was as little critical as ardent young men are apt to be of the statements of captivating young women, and Rachel's spirits rose as she saw that the worst she had to fear from this enemy was an excess of devotioni.The story of her aunt at Murfreesboro received unhesitating acceptance, and nothing but imperative scouting orders prevented his escorting her to the town.He would, however, send a non-commissioned officer with her, who would see that she was not molested by any one.He requested permission to call upon her at her aunt's, which Rachel was compelled to grant, for lack of any ready excuse for such a contingency.With this, and many smiles and bows, they parted.
All the afternoon she rode through camps of men in gray and butternut, as she had ridden through those of men in blue in the morning.In these, as in the others, she heard gay songs, dance music and laughter, and saw thousands of merry boys rollicking in the sunshine at games of ball and other sports, with the joyous earnestness of a school-house playground.She tried, but in vain, to realize that in a few days these thoughtless youths would be the demons of the battle-field.
Just before dusk she came to the top of a low limestone ridge, and saw, three miles away, the lights of Murfreesboro.At that moment Fortner appeared, jogging leisurely toward her, mounted on a splendid horse.
"O there's my Cousin Jim!" she exclaimed gleefully, "coming to meet me.Sergeant, I am deeply obliged to you and to your Lieutenant, for your company, and I will try to show my appreciation of it in the future in some way more substantial than words.You need not go any farther with me.I know that you and your horse are very tired.Good by."The Sergeant was only too gald of this release, which gave him an opportunity to get back to camp, to enjoy some good cheer that he knew was there, and bidding a hasty good-night, he left at a trot.
Fortner and Rachel rode on slowly up the pike, traversing the ground that was soon to run red with the blood of thousands.
They talked of the fearful probabilities of the next few days, and halted for some minutes on the bridge across Stone River, to study the wonderfully picturesque scene spread out before them.The dusk was just closing down.The scowling darkness seemed to catch around woods and trees and houses, and grow into monsters of vast and somber bulk, swelling and spreding like the "gin" which escaped from the copper can, in the "Arabian Nights," until they touched each other, coalesced and covered the whole land.Far away, at the edge of the valley, the tops of the hills rose, distinctly lighted by the last rays of the dying day, as if some strip of country resisting to the last the invasion of the dark monsters.
A half-mile in front of the bridge was the town of Murfreesboro.
