University of Virginia Library

XXI.
“BEFORE TO-MORROW YOU WILL BE DEAD — OR I
WILL.”

In a moment, it seemed to me, the little band of
Rangers had swept across the extensive field, thundered
down a rocky declivity, passed at full gallop
through a small stream, and a second gate, and
dashed up the hill to the threatened mansion.

It stood upon a knoll, with an emerald slope in
front, at the foot of which a weeping willow laved
its tassels in the water of a little stream. Around
the old portico grew flowers. All had an air of
peace, and home, and welcome.

Or would have had, — for the grounds, the portico,
the mansion, swarmed with blue coats, whose horses
were scattered over the lawn. Half had gone to fire
the barn beyond, — a structure containing stalls for
fifty horses; half stayed to fire the house. In a
dozen hands streaming torches were seen; if we had
arrived an instant later, the mansion would have
been destroyed. The rush of Landon and his men
up the hill was magnificent.

“Charge!” thundered the Rangers.

And at that sound the blue horsemen turned suddenly,
and opened fire.

Landon did not pause. In three bounds he was
in front of the portico, and his sabre had descended
once, twice, thrice, cutting down a man at each
stroke.

Then, leaping from his horse, and drawing his
pistol with his left hand, — his right still holding his
bloody sabre, — he rushed into the mansion.

I followed, and we burst into a large apartment
on the right, with a tall mantel-piece, wainscoting,
and decorated, at one end, I remember, by the half-length
portrait of a gentleman which looked serenely
down amid the uproar.

The room was full of Federal soldiers, smashing
the glass ware on the sideboard, and tearing open
every door in search of plate.

Others were endeavouring to fire the apartment,
and in the centre of them I saw Ratcliffe.

Landon rushed upon him, firing as he did so;
then, shortening his sword, lunged straight at his
heart.

Ratcliffe parried the blow; then bounded backward;
and then his men rushed upon Landon and
myself, firing and cutting at us. But the tables
were quickly turned. The grim faces of the Rangers
appeared at the Partisans' back; they threw themselves
upon the Federal soldiers, and, in less time

than is required to write it, the blue coats had vanished
through the rear door of the mansion, and
thrown themselves upon their horses.

Landon uttered a sort of growl, and, rushing to his
horse, went with drawn sabre on the track of Ratcliffe,
who galloped headlong among his flying men.

The Rangers followed, shouting and firing. Then,
in front of the burning barn and stables, an obstinate
combat ensued, — a wild melée of shots, clashing
swords, yells, groans, over which rose the rear
of the flames.

Landon had come up with Ratcliffe.

“At last!” I heard him say, as he closed in with
the Federal captain.

And in an instant he was boot to boot with Ratcliffe,
had caught him by the throat, and, shortening
his sword again, he plunged it I thought through
his adversary's breast. I was mistaken. By a
quick movement, Ratcliffe evaded the blow, and
fired at his opponent, — body to body.

The ball missed its mark, but passed through the
throat of the Partisan's horse. The animal uttered
a shrill cry, threw up his head, staggered, and fell,
dragging down his rider.

But Landon in turn dragged Ratcliffe. Nothing
seemed able to make him release his grasp. Clutching
the Federal captain by the throat, he dragged
him from the saddle, fell upon him, and, half rising,

drew back his arm to drive the point of his sabre
through his enemy's heart.

Ratcliffe writhed and half rose.

“I surrender!” he cried.

“I'll take no surrender from you, cursed hound!”
exclaimed Landon.

But suddenly a whirlwind seemed to sweep over
them. Before Landon could stab his adversary, the
Federal horse broke in wild flight; passed trampling
over the two adversaries; and, rising half
stunned to his feet, his face pale, his teeth set, his
head uncovered, and with the bleeding marks of
hoofs upon his forehead, Landon looked round him.

The Federal cavalry were flying wildly, pursued
by the Rangers. At his feet lay Ratcliffe, uttering
deep groans.

Landon's laugh replied.

“Good!” he muttered. “I said I would put my
hand on you. Before to-morrow you will be dead,
or I will!”