Raiding with Morgan. Dunn Byron Archibald
have you reduced to the ranks,” growled the Lieutenant.
The subject was rather a painful one to the Lieutenant, for during his visit to the Osbornes the week before, when he tried to make himself agreeable to the daughter, the lady told him in very plain words what she thought of Yankees.
“It’s nearly noon, too,” continued the Lieutenant, after the interruption, “and that spring near the house is a splendid place to rest our horses and eat our dinners; so fall in.” The Lieutenant slowly mounted Calhoun’s horse, for his fall had made him sore, and in none the best of humor, he gave the command, “Forward!”
The plantation of Mr. Osborne was soon reached. It was a beautiful place. The country had not yet been devastated by the cruel hand of war, and the landscape, rich with the growing crops, lay glowing under the bright April sky. The mansion house stood back from the road in a grove of noble native trees, and the whole surroundings betokened a home of wealth and refinement.
From underneath a rock near the house gushed forth a spring, whose waters, clear as crystal, ran away in a rippling stream. It was near this spring that Lieutenant Haines, for that was the officer’s name, halted his troops.
“Better throw a guard around the house,” he said to Sergeant Latham, “for if that Rebel has found his way here, he may make a sneak out the back way. After you get the guard posted, we will search the house.”
As the Sergeant was executing his orders, Mr. Osborne came out of the house, and approaching the troop, to Lieutenant Haines’s surprise, gave him a cordial greeting.
“I cannot say I am rejoiced to see you again,” he exclaimed, with a smile, “except you come in peace. I trust that the telegraph wire has not been cut, or the railroad torn up again.”
“Nothing of the kind has happened,” answered the Lieutenant.
“Then I reckon I am in no danger of arrest, and I trust you will take dinner with us. It is nearly ready.”
The invitation nearly took away the Lieutenant’s breath, but he accepted it gladly. As they were going toward the house, Mr. Osborne remarked, carelessly, “I see you have thrown a guard around the house. Are you afraid of an attack? I know of no body of Confederates in the vicinity.”
“The truth is,” replied Haines, “we ran into a lone Confederate about a mile from here. We captured his horse, but he succeeded in escaping to the woods, after killing my horse. I did not know but he might have found refuge here; and, excuse me, Mr. Osborne, but I may be under the necessity of searching your house.”
“Do as you please,” replied Mr. Osborne, coldly; “I have seen no such Confederate; but if I had, I should have concealed him if I could. But do not let this circumstance spoil our good nature, or our dinner.”
Just then they met Sergeant Latham returning from posting the guard. “Sergeant, you may withdraw the guard,” said the Lieutenant; “Mr. Osborne informs me he has not seen our runaway Confederate.”
The Sergeant turned back to carry out the order, muttering, “Confederate! Confederate! The Lieutenant is getting mighty nice; he generally says ‘Rebel.’ ”
If Lieutenant Haines was surprised at the cordial greeting he had received from Mr. Osborne, he was more than surprised at the reception he met from Mrs. Osborne, and especially the daughter, Miss Clara.
Miss Osborne was a most beautiful girl, about twenty years of age. No wonder Lieutenant Haines felt his heart beat faster when he looked upon her. When he met her the week before, she treated him with the utmost disdain; now she greeted him with a smile, and said, “I trust you have not come to carry papa away in captivity. If not, you are welcome.”
“Nothing of the sort this time, I am happy to say,” exclaimed the Lieutenant, with a bow, “and I hope I shall never be called upon to perform that disagreeable duty.”
“Thank you,” she answered, with a smile. “Now, you must stay and take dinner with us while your men rest.”
“The Lieutenant tells me he met with quite a little adventure, about a mile below here,” said Mr. Osborne.
Miss Osborne looked up inquiringly. Before more could be said Mrs. Osborne announced that dinner was ready, and the Lieutenant sat down to a most sumptuous repast.
“What was Lieutenant Haines’s adventure you spoke of?” at length asked Miss Osborne of her father.
“Better let the Lieutenant tell the story, for I know nothing of it,” answered Mr. Osborne; “but he spoke of searching the house for a supposed concealed Confederate.”
As Mr. Osborne said this, Miss Osborne gave a little gasp and turned pale, but quickly recovering herself, she turned a pair of inquiring eyes on the Lieutenant – eyes that emitted flames of angry light and seemed to look him through and through.
Lieutenant Haines turned very red. “Forgive me if I thought of such a thing,” he replied, humbly. “Your father has assured me he has neither seen nor concealed any Confederate officer, and his word is good with me. Make yourself easy. I shall not insult you by searching the house.”
A look as of relief came over the face of Miss Osborne as she answered: “I thank you very much. I shall never say again there are no gentlemen among the Yankees. But tell us of your adventure. I thought I heard firing about an hour ago. Was there any one hurt?”
“Only my poor horse; he was killed,” answered Haines.
“Ah! in the days of knighthood to be unhorsed was to be defeated,” exclaimed Miss Osborne, gayly. “You must admit yourself vanquished!”
Haines laughingly replied: “I am sorry to disappoint you; but as I captured my enemy’s horse and he fled on foot, I cannot admit defeat.”
“Then your enemy was a solitary knight?” queried Miss Osborne.
“Yes, but to all appearances a most gallant one.”
“Strange,” she mused, “who he could be, and what he could be doing in this section. The place for true knights, at this time, is at Corinth.”
“From letters captured with his horse, I take it he was from Corinth,” said Haines. “From those letters we learned that his name was Calhoun Pennington, that he was a lieutenant in the command of Captain John H. Morgan, a gentleman who has given us considerable trouble, and may give us more, and that he was on his way back to Kentucky to recruit for Morgan’s command.”
“You say you captured letters?” queried the girl.
“Yes, a whole package of them. They were from members of Morgan’s command to their friends back in Kentucky. The boys are having rare fun reading them.”
“I suppose it is according to military usages to read all communications captured from the enemy,” remarked Miss Osborne with a slight tinge of sarcasm in her tone, “but it seems sacrilege that these private letters should fall into profane hands.”
“Some of them were rich,” laughed Haines; “they were written by loving swains to their girls. There were others written to wives and mothers, which almost brought tears to our eyes, they were so full of yearnings for home.”
“Lieutenant, there was nothing in those letters of value to you from a military standpoint, was there?” suddenly asked Miss Osborne.
“Nothing.”
“Then I have a great boon to ask. Will you not give them to me?”
“Why, Miss Osborne, what can you do with them?” asked Haines, in surprise.
“I can at least keep them sacred. Perhaps I can find means of getting them to those for whom they are intended. Think of those wives and mothers watching, waiting for letters which will never come. Oh! give them to me, Lieutenant Haines, and you will sleep the sweeter to-night.”
“Your request is a strange one,” said the Lieutenant; “yet I can see no harm in granting it. You can have the letters, but the boys may have destroyed some of them by this time.”
“Thank you! Oh, thank you! You will