Before the Dawn: A Story of the Fall of Richmond. Altsheler Joseph Alexander
on the shoulders of the hills, and he shortened the space between them, not caring now if she saw him, as he no longer had any doubt of her purpose. He looked back once and saw behind him an almost imperceptible glow which he knew was the city, and then on the left beheld another light, the mark of a Confederate fortress, set there as a guard upon the ways.
She turned to the right, leaving the fortress behind, passing into country still more desolate, and Prescott thought it was now time to end the pursuit. He pressed forward with increased speed, and she, hearing the sound of a footstep behind her, looked back. He heard in the dead stillness of the night the low cry of fright that broke from her. She stood for a moment as if the power of motion had departed, and then fled like a wounded deer, with Prescott, more than ever the hunter, swiftly following after.
He was surprised at her speed. Clearly she was long-limbed and strong, and for the time his energies were taxed to keep within sight of her fleeing figure. But he was a man, she a woman, and the pursuit was not long. At last she sank, panting, upon a fallen log, and Prescott approached her, a strange mingling of triumph and pity in his heart.
She looked up and there was appeal in her face. Again he saw how young she was, how pure the light of her eyes, how delicately moulded each feature, and surprise came, as a third emotion, to mingle with the triumph and pity, and not in a less degree.
"Ah, it is you," she said, and in her tone there was no surprise, only aversion.
"Yes, it is I," replied Prescott; "and you seemed to have expected me."
"Not in the way that you think," she replied haughtily.
A wonderful change came over her face, and her figure seemed to stiffen; every lineament, every curve expressed scorn and contempt. Prescott had never before seen such a remarkable transformation, and for the moment felt as if he were the guilty one and she the judge.
While he was wondering thus at her attractive personality, she rose and stood before him.
"Now, sir," she said, "you shall let me go, Mr.–Mr.–"
"I am Captain Robert Prescott of the Confederate Army," said Prescott. "I have nothing to conceal," and then he added significantly: "At present I am on voluntary duty."
"I have seen enough of you," she said in the same unbending tone. "You have given me a fright, but now I am recovered and I bid you leave me."
"You mistake, Madam or Miss," replied Prescott calmly, recovering his composure; "you and I have not seen enough of each other. I am a gentleman, I hope, at least I have passed for one, and I have no intent to insult you."
"What is your wish?" she asked, still standing before him, straight and tall, her tone as cold as ice.
"Truly," thought Prescott, "she can carry it off well, and if such business as this must be done by a woman, hers is a mind for the task." But aloud he said: "Madam—or—Miss—you see you are less frank than I; you do not supply the omission—certain documents important to the Government which I serve, and as important to our enemies if they can get them, were taken yesterday from the office of the President. Kindly give them to me, as I am a better custodian for them than you are."
Her face remained unchanged. Not by a single quiver of the lip or gleam of the eye did she show emotion, and in the same cold, even voice she replied:
"You are dreaming, Captain Prescott. Some freak of the fancy has mastered you. I know nothing of the documents. How could I, a woman, do such a thing?"
"It is not more strange than your flight from Richmond alone and at such an hour."
"What signifies that? These are times of war and strange times demand strange conduct. Besides, it concerns me alone."
"Not so," replied Prescott firmly; "give me the papers."
Her face now changed from its calm. Variable emotions shot over it. Prescott, as he stood there before her, was conscious of admiration. What vagary had sent a girl who looked like this upon such a task!
"The papers," he repeated.
"I have none," she replied.
"If you do not give them to me I shall be compelled to search you, and that, I fancy, you do not wish. But I assure you that I shall do it."
His tone was resolute. He saw a spark of fire in her eye, but he did not quail.
"I shall turn my back," he added, "and if the papers are not produced in one minute's time I shall begin my search."
"Would you dare?" she asked with flashing eyes.
"I certainly would," he replied. "I trust that I know my duty."
But in a moment the light in her eyes changed. The look there was an appeal, and it expressed confidence, too. Prescott felt a strange tremour. Her glance rested full upon him and it was strangely soft and pathetic.
"Captain Prescott," she said, "upon my honour—by the memory of my mother, I have no papers."
"Then what have you done with them?" said Prescott.
"I have never had any."
He looked at her doubtfully. He believed and yet he did not. But her eyes shone with the light of purity and truth.
"Then why are you out here at such an hour, seeking to escape from Richmond?" he asked at last.
"Lest I bring harm to another," she said proudly.
Prescott laughed slightly and at once he saw a deep flush dye her face, and then involuntarily he made an apology, feeling that he was in the presence of one who was his equal.
"But I must have those papers," he said.
"Then keep your threat," she said, and folding her arms proudly across her breast she regarded him with a look of fire.
Prescott felt the blood rising in his face. He could not fulfil his menace and now he knew it.
"Come," he said abruptly, "you must go back to Richmond with me. I can take you safely past the earthworks and back to the house from which you came; there my task shall end, but not my duty."
However, he comforted himself with the thought that she had not passed the last line of defenses and perhaps could not do so at another time.
The girl said nothing, but walked obediently beside him, tall, straight and strong. She seemed now to be subdued and ready to go wherever he directed.
Prescott recognized that his own position in following the course that he had chosen was doubtful. He might turn her over to the nearest military post and then his troubles concerning her would be at an end; but he could not choose that alternative save as a last resort. She had made an appeal to him and she was a woman, a woman of no ordinary type.
The night was far gone, but the moon was full, and now spread its veil of silver mist over all the hills and fields. The earth swam in an unreal light and again the woman beside Prescott became unreal, too. He felt that if he should reach out his hand and touch her he would touch nothing but air, and then he smiled to himself at such a trick of fancy.
"I have given you my name," he said. "Now what shall I call you?"
"Let it go for the time," she replied.
"I must, since I have no way to compel you," he said.
They approached the inner line of earthworks through which they had passed in the flight and pursuit, and now Prescott felt it his duty to find the way back, without pausing to reflect on the strangeness of the fact that he, a Confederate soldier, was seeking to escape the notice of the Confederate pickets for the sake of a spy belonging to the other side.
They saw again the sentinels walking back and forth, gun on shoulder, and waiting until they were farthest apart, Prescott touched the woman on the arm. "Now is our time," he said, and they slid with soundless footsteps between the sentinels and back into Richmond.
"That was well done!" said Prescott joyfully. "You can shut an army out of a town, but you can't close the way to one man or two."
"Captain Prescott," said the girl, "you have brought me back into Richmond. Why not let me go now?"
"I take