University of Virginia Library

VI.
HOW THEY MANAGED MATTERS ON THE BORDER
IN 1864.

Landon had turned his horse to ride down the
hill, in the direction of the village, when one of his
men came up rapidly, and, drawing rein at his side,
spoke to him in a low voice.

I did not catch the words, but the blood rushed
suddenly to Landon's cheek.

“Where?” he said, abruptly.

“In the flat beyond the stream, captain.”

Without a word Landon darted at full gallop
down the hill, passed through Millwood, and, as I
reached his side in the field beyond, I saw him check
his horse suddenly near an oak, which stood, solitary
and alone, in the open ground.

From the boughs of this oak were hanging three
corpses.

“Look, captain,” said the man who had kept beside
him; “it is Robinson, Walters, and Andrews,
— three of our best men.”

Landon spurred his horse up until the animal
shied violently at this near approach to the fearful-looking

objects. The three men were clad in gray,
and their ghastly faces were convulsed by the last
agony.

Suddenly Landon forced his horse close to the
trunk, and tore down a paper which was attached
to it.

On this paper was written, in heavy black letters:
—

“Capt. Ratcliffe.”

Landon read these words by the light of the
moon, looked up at the corpses, folded up the paper
slowly, and, turning to the man beside him,
said: —

“Order my command to assemble here, and bring
the prisoners taken from the picket at the river.”

I had reached his side as he uttered these words,
and he held out to me the paper which he had taken
from the tree-trunk.

“It is frightful,” I said; “and what course will
you pursue, captain?”

With an icy glance the Partisan replied: —

“The lex talionis is my code, colonel, — an eye
for an eye, and a tooth for a tooth.”

As he spoke, the members of his command were
seen approaching, with about a dozen prisoners.