University of Virginia Library

31. CHAPTER XXXI.

Let us now return to the deep glen, at the bottom
of which we left our friend Arthur, accompanied by
his mountain guide. Schwartz was welcomed with
cordial joy by his comrades, and, having asked for
the Captain, was told he was in his tent. Arthur
looked around in vain for a tent, but saw none. The
beetling crags on both sides of the dell seemed to be
the only shelter that the place afforded. But against
the rock, a hundred yards below, and directly beneath
the spot from which Schwartz had given notice of
his presence, hung a piece of tent-cloth. One edge
of this was tacked to a pole which lay horizontally
against the rocky wall, the ends being supported by
forks about ten feet long. This proved to be a sort
of door to a wide-mouthed cavernous recess in the
rock, deep enough to afford room for the few little
conveniences which an officer can expect to keep
about him in active service. Approaching this,

Schwartz lifted the corner, and our travellers stood
in the presence of Douglas.

He was seated at a coarse table, poring over a
rude manuscript map, and did not lift his head until
he heard the word `brother' uttered by the well-known
voice of Arthur. In a moment they were in
each other's arms, and, in the next, the new-comer
was overwhelmed with questions about his father,
mother, and various friends. Some indeed were not
named; for, though Schwartz was in the secret of the
fact, he was incapable of being let into the deeper
mystery of hearts like those of Douglas and Delia.
To such the utterance of a beloved name in the presence
of the uninitiated is an unpardonable profanation.
But though that of Delia was not spoken,
Arthur took care so to emphasize his account of the
health of his uncle's family, as to convey to the mind
of Douglas an assurance of all he wished to hear.
But if Schwartz was not deep in the tender mysteries
of refined and delicate love, no man better understood
a hint, or better knew how to improve it. He
accordingly interrupted the conversation, just to say
that he brought important intelligence, which must
be communicated that night; adding that he would
leave them together for an hour. He now withdrew,
and afforded the desired opportunity for unreserved
conversation.

“My Delia,” said Douglas; “I understand that
she is well, and, I hope, happy.”

“She is happy,” said Arthur. “She hears of
you, from the impartial voice of public fame, in terms
that fill her heart with pride, and leave no room
there for alarm or melancholy. She feels as becomes
a soldier's wife, anxious for her husband's fate, but
confident in his fortunes. She has caught this notion
from Mr. B—, who is her oracle, and who seems
to have imparted to her, not only all his sentiments,
but all the energy and buoyancy of his self-confident
mind.”

“Thank God!” said Douglas. “Just so would
I have her to be. I knew it would be so. I saw
her noble mother, when danger threatened my uncle;
and I saw her too. But this is the first positive information,
on that point, that has reached me since
I have been here. Mr. B— and I can only correspond
by messages through Schwartz, and though
he is plain and accurate as a printed book in repeating
what he understands, yet ideas of this sort are
not in his line. And my good and venerable old
father—are you here with his permission?”

“I am not; nor does he know where I am. I
have no doubt that I should have his approbation if
he did. I am sure you have.”

“I!” exclaimed Douglas, with a start of violent
surprise. “What does he know of me.”

“Nothing at all,” said Arthur, smiling. “But he
knows of a certain partisan leader, whom the world
calls Captain Douglas, and if I can read the old

man's eyes, when he hears that name, he would
rather call that man his son than any other on
earth.”

As Arthur spoke the eyes of Douglas filled, and,
pressing his hand to his brow, he bowed his head a
moment on the table. Then rising, he stood erect,
and looking up with a rapt and abstracted air, his
eye flashing through his tears, he folded his arms, and
speaking in the measured tone of one who feels
deeply, but in whose mind thought masters feeling,
he parodied that noble speech which Shakspeare puts
in the mouth of Prince Henry:

“And my Delia!—my virgin bride! O! for that
day,

“I tell you, Arthur, that, in thoughts like these,
there is a rapture which makes this hole in the rock
a palace, and this flinty couch a bed of down. Are
you prepared, my dear fellow, to partake with me in
such feelings? That, I know, depends in part on
Lucia. What of her?”

“She is to me,” said Arthur, “all that Delia is
to you; though she is too young to have the same

strength of mind, and I have no right to expect the
same confidence in my prowess and fortunes.”

“Never fear. It will not be wanting at the pinch.
A woman never fears for the safety of him she loves
but when she doubts his truth. Let her feel that she
is his second self, and self-confidence calms her
fears. Let her feel that she lives in his heart, and,
strong in love, she defies the dagger which assails it.
Calphurnia trembled for Cæsar. Why? He was
the husband of every woman in Rome. Had he been
true to her, she would have felt only that prudent
fear that he would not have derided. He would,
perhaps, have yielded to her discreet remonstance,
and her love would have justified the confidence
which characterizes the love of woman, by saving
his life. But, what a rhapsody I am uttering! You
say my father does not know where you are? How
is that?”

“I was not at liberty to acquaint him with your
secret. Your absence has drawn on him some displeasure
from those in power, and their minions are
all around him. It seems that you are supposed to
be in the South for no good purpose, and not without
an understanding with him. My disappearance
will attract farther notice. For that he cares little;
but he is so scrupulous in his notions of honor and
truth, that, were he questioned about us, he could
hardly conceal any thing he might know. Your letters,
I see, still come from the South, though they

say nothing of your whereabout. Of course, he thinks
you are there; and I, without undeceiving him, simply
asked leave to go to look for you. That his feelings
are with us, I have no doubt. But he is so beset
by spies, and so hampered by the position of our
brothers in the army and navy, that he even tries to
hide the secret of his thoughts from himself.”

Thus the brothers conversed until Schwartz returned
and claimed the Captain's ear; who began
by asking what news he brought from B—.

“The Colonel (so he always designated B—) likes
your plan mightily, sir,” replied Schwartz, “if you
can rub through with it. But he is afraid, from all
he can learn, that them fellows at Lynchburg may
be too many for you; so, he says, you must find out
exactly how that is, and if you don't think it a pretty
good chance, just slip down along the line, toward
the middle of November, and join him.”

“If I do so, where am I to find him precisely?”
asked Douglas.

“Just where the Petersburg railroad crosses the
line,” said Schwartz. “You see the folks there are
all friendly, because as long as things stay as they
are, their railroad an't worth an old flint, and so they
are patching up all the old cars, and fixing every
thing for the Colonel, as soon as he can start a
regiment or so, to make a dash at Petersburg, and
so hold on there till the rest of his men join him.
Now, if we were to be the first there, Captain, I have

a notion that we'd be the very boys for them chaps
at Petersburg.”

“I should like that well,” said Douglas. “But
I understand my old acquaintance, Col. Mason, at
Lychburg, has a great desire to see me, and I should
hate to disappoint him.”

“I don't think he commands there now,” said
Schwartz. “There is another regiment come from
the North to join him, and they say the other is the
oldest colonel.”

“That is of course,” said Douglas, “for Mason
is the youngest in the army. But I am not sorry for
the exchange, for they have hardly sent as good a
one. There is not a man among them I would not
rather meet than Mason. Have you been able to
learn the particulars of their force there?”

“As well as I can understand,” replied Schwartz,
“the whole number is not far from a thousand, and
may be a few more.”

“A thousand! Can we raise men enough to strike
at them before they think of it?”

“I have not a doubt of it, sir, if we could get at
them on fair terms. The people along down between
here and Staunton river don't like the thoughts of
what them fellows may do to them, and they are keen
to take them before they are ready. I talked to the
head-men among them, as you told me, and they all
see that the right way is to try to get the first blow.
Because, you see, Captain, when we an't gaining we

are losing. If we let the enemy hold Lynchburg, and
they find two regiments will not do, they will bring
four, and so on, till they get the upper hand, and
then they will pay these poor fellows about here for
old and new. But if we could make out to give
them a real beating, and so drive them clean off, why
all the country as far as the Rappahannock would
rise that minute, and they'd have enough to do to
hold their own at Fredericksburg.”

“I suppose you said all this to Mr. B—?”

“To be sure I did, sir; and he thinks just as we do
about it, only he is dubious about attacking a fortified
camp, as they call it, just with rifles.”

“He is right about that,” replied Douglas.
“Riflemen are the best troops in the world to defend
a breast work, but they are the worst to attack
one. I had hopes, however, that we might have
drawn out the enemy by some device, even when
Mason commanded. He is too brave to be ashamed
to be prudent. I wish I knew whom they have
sent to supersede him. But, whoever he is, it is a
hundred to one, that being set over the head of an
abler man, he will be impatient to show his superiority
by reversing his predecessor's plans, and shaming
the prudence of Mason by some hasty display of
valor. If I did but know who was in command!”

“I tried to find that out,” replied Schwartz;
“because I knew you were pretty well acquainted
with the most of them. You remember, sir, you told

me from the first almost exactly how this Col. Mason
was going to do. But I could not find any body that
could tell me the new Colonel's name. But, whoever
he is, Mr. B— thinks, and so do I, (but that is
nothing,) and I have a notion you do too partly, sir,
that if we mean to do any thing with them, we must
try to catch them somewhere between here and
Lynchburg.”

“I am afraid that is all too true,” said Douglas,
“and if no such chance offers, we shall have to give
them the slip as B— proposes; and I should hate it.”

“And so would I,” said Schwartz; “and so, you
see, sir, I have been trying to fix a sort of a plan to
draw them out, and that is what I want to tell you
about.”

What this plan was, the next chapter shall disclose.