"Yes; and what next?"

"Well, Rosy's started fur this 'ere place, an' he's bound ter come heah. Bragg's bound he sha'n't come heah, an' is gittin' his men back to defend the town."

"What am I--what are we to do in the meanwhile?"

"Ye're ter do nothin', on'y stay in the house ez close ez ye kin, an'

wait tell the chance comes ter use ye. Hit may be ter-morrer, an' hit mayn't be fur some days. These army moves are mouty unsartin. Aunt Debby 'll take keer on ye, an' ye 'll not be in a mite o' danger."

"But we'll see you frequently?"

"Ez offen ez I kin arrange hit. I'm actin' ez orderly an' messenger 'bout headquarters, but I'll come ter ye whenever I kin git a chance, an' keep ye posted."

This was Friday night. All day Sat.u.r.day, as long as the light lasted, Rachel stood at the window and watched with sinking heart the steady inflow of the Rebels from the north. That night she and Aunt Debby waited till midnight for Fortner, but he did not come. All day Sunday she stood at her post, and watched the unabated pouring-in on the Nashville pike. Fortner did not come that night. She was downcast, but no shade disturbed the serenity of Aunt Debby's sweet hymning. So it was again on Monday and Tuesday. The continually-swarming mult.i.tudes weighed down her spirits like a millstone. She seemed to be encompa.s.sed by millions of armed enemies. They appeared more plentiful than the trees, or the rocks, or the leaves even. They filled the streets of the little town until it seemed impossible for another one to find standing room.

Their cavalry blackened the faces of the long ranges of hills. Their artillery and wagons streamed along the roads in a never-ending train.

Their camp-fires lighted up the country at night for miles, in all directions.

Just at dusk Tuesday night Fortner came in, and was warmly welcomed.

"There are such countless hosts of the Rebels," Rachel said to him after the first greetings were over, "that I quite despair of our men being able to do anything with them. It seems impossible that there can be gathered together anywhere else in the world as many men as they have."

"I don't wonder ye think so, but ef ye'd been whar I wuz to-day ye'd think thet all the world wuz marchin' round in blue uniforms. Over heah hit seems ez ef all the cedars on the hills hed suddintly turned inter Rebel soldiers. Three miles from heah the blue-coats are swarmin'

thicker'n bees in a field o' buckwheat."

"Three miles from here! Is our army within three miles of here?"

"Hit sartinly is, an' the Lord-awfullest crowd o' men an' guns an'

hosses thet ever tromped down the gra.s.s o' this ere airth. Why, hit jest dazed my eyes ter look at 'em. Come ter this other winder. D' ye see thet furtherest line o' campfires, 'way on yander hill? Well, them's Union. Ef ye could see far enuf ye'd see they're 'bout five miles long, an' they look purtier'n the stars in heaven."

"But if they are so close the battle will begin immediately, will it not?"

"Hit ain't likely ter be put off very long, but thar's no tellin'

what'll happen in war, or when."

"When is my time to come?"

"Thet's what I've come furt ter tell ye. Ef we're agwine ter be of sarvice ter the Guv'MENT, we must do hit to-night, fur most likely the battle'll begin in the mornin'. Hit's not jest the way I intended ter make use of ye, but hit can't be helped now. I hev information thet must reach Gineral Rosencrans afore daybreak. The vict'ry may depend on hit.

Ter make sure all on us must start with hit, fur gittin' through the lines is now mouty dangersome, an' somebody--mebbe several--is bound to git cotcht, mebbe wuss. The men I expected ter help me are all gone. I hain't n.o.body now but ye an Aunt Debby. D'ye dar try an' make yer way through the lines to-night?"

Rachel thought a minute upon the dreadful possibilities of the venture, and then replied firmly:

"Yes I dare. I will try anything that the rest of you will attempt."

"Good. I knowed ye'd talk thet-a-way. Now we must waste no time in gittin' started, fur G.o.d on'y knows what diffikilties we'll meet on the way, an' Rosencrans can't hev the information enny too soon. Ev'ry minute hit's kep' away from him'll cost many vallerable lives--mebbe help defeat the army."

"Tell me quickly, then, what I must do, that I may lose no time in undertaking it."

"Well, heah's a plan of the position at sundown of the Rebels. Hit's drawed out moughty roughly but hit'll show jest whar they all are, an'

about the number there is at each place. Hit begins on the right, which is south of Stone River, with Breckenridge's men; then across the river is Withers, an' Cheatham, an' Cleburne, with McCown's division on the left, an' Wharton's cavalry on the flank. But the thing o' most importance is thet all day long they've been movin' men round ter ther left, ter fall on our right an' crush hit. They're hid in the cedar thickets over thar, an' they'll come out to-morrow mornin' like a million yellin' devils, an' try ter sweep our right wing offen the face o' the arth. D'ye understand what I've tole ye?"

"Yes. Breckenridge's division is on their right, and south of Stone River. Withers, Cheatham, and Cleburne come next, on the north of the river, with McCown's division and Wharton's cavalry on the left, as shown in the sketch, and they are moving heavy forces around to their left, with the evident intention of falling overwhelmingly on our right early in the morning."

"Thet's. .h.i.t. Thet's. .h.i.t. But lay all the stres ye kin on the movin'

around ter ther left. Thar's mo' mischief in thet than all the rest. Say thet thar's 20,000 men gwine round thar this arternoon an' evening'. Say thet thar's the biggest thunder-cloud o' danger thet enny one ever seed.

Say hit over an' over, tell everybody understands. .h.i.t an' gits ready ter meet hit. Tell hit till ye've made ev'ry one on 'em understand thet thar can't be no mistake about hit, an' they must look out fur heeps o'

trouble on ther right. Tell hit ez ye never tole anything afore in yer life. Tell hit ez ye'd pray G.o.d Almighty fur the life o' the one thet ye love better then all the world beside. An' GIT THAR ter tell hit--git thru the Rebel lines--ef ye love yer G.o.d an' yer country, an' ye want ter see the brave men who are ter die tomorrer make their deaths count somethin' to'ard savin' this Union. Hit may be thet yore information'll save the army from defeat. Hit may be--hit's most likely--thet hit'll save the lives o' thousands o' brave men who love ther lives even ez yo an' me loves ourn."

"Trust me to do all that a devoted woman can. I will get through before daybreak or die in the attempt. But how am I to go?"

"Hide this paper somewhar. Aunt Debby'll fix ye up ez a country gal, while I'm gittin' yer mar saddled an' bridled with some common harness, instid o' the fancy fixin's ye hed when ye rode out heah. Ef ye're stopt, ez ye likely will be, say that ye've been ter town fur the doctor, an' some medicine fur yer sick mammy, an' are tryin' ter git back ter yer home on the south fork o' Overall's Creek. Now, go an' git ready ez quick ez the Lord'll let ye."

As she heard the mare's hoofs in front of the door, Rachel came out with a "slat-sun-bonnet" on her head, and a long, black calico riding-skirt over her linsey dress. Fortner gave her attire an approving nod. Aunt Debby followed her with a bottle. "This is the medicine ye've bin ter git from Dr. Thacker heah in town," she said, handing the vial.

"Remember the name, fur fear ye mout meet some one who knows the town.

Dr. Thacker, who lives a little piece offen the square, an' gives big doses of epecac fur everything, from brakebone fever ter the itch."

"Dr. Thacker, who lives just off the square," said Rachel. "I'll be certain to remember."

"Take this, too," said Fortner, handing her a finely-finished revolver, of rather large caliber. "Don't pull hit onless ye can't git along without hit, an' then make sho o' yer man. Salt him."

"Good-by--G.o.d bless ye," said Aunt Debby, taking Rachel to her heart in a pa.s.sionate embrace, and kissing her repeatedly. "G.o.d bless ye agin. No one ever hed more need o' His blessin' then we'uns will fur the next few hours. Ef He does bless us an' our work we'll all be safe an' sound in Gineral Rosencrans' tent afore noon. But ef His will's different we'll be by thet time whar the Rebels cease from troublin', and the weary are at rest. I'm sure thet ef I thot the Rebels war gwine ter whip our men I'd never want ter see the sun rise ter-morrer. Good-by; we're all in the hands o' Him who seeth even the sparrer's fall."

Fortner led the mare a little ways, to where he could get a good view, and then said:

"Thet second line o' fires which ye see over thar is our lines--them fires I mean which run up inter the woods. The fust line is the Rebels.

Ye'll go right out this road heah tell ye git outside the town, an' then turn ter yer right an' make fur the Stone River. Ford hit or swim your mar' acrost, an' make yer way thru or round the Rebel line. Ef ye find a good road, an' everything favorable ye mout try ter make yer way strait thru ef ye kin fool the gyards with yer story. Ef ye're fearful ye can't then ride beyond the lines, an' come inter ours thet-a-way Aunt Deby'll go ter the other flank, an' try ter git a-past Breckinridge's pickets, an' I'll 'tempt ter make my way thru the center. We may all or none o'

us git thru. I can't gin ye much advice, ez ye'll hev ter trust mainly ter yerself. But remember all the time what hangs upon yer gittin' the news ter Rosy afore daybreak. Think all the time thet mebbe ye kin save the hull army, mebbe win the vict'ry, sartinly save heeps o' Union lives an' fool the pizen Rebels. This is the greatest chance ye'll ever hev ter do good in all yer life, or a hundred more, ef ye could live 'em.

Good-by. Ef G.o.d Almighty smiles on us we'll meet ter-morrer on yon side o' Stone River. Ef He frowns we'll meet on yon side o' the Shinin'

River. Good-by."

He released her hand and her horse, and she rode forward into the darkness. Her course took her first up a main street, which was crowded with wagons, ambulances and artillery. Groups of men mingled with these, and crowded upon the sidewalks. When she pa.s.sed the light of a window the men stared at her, and some few presumed upon her homely garb so far as to venture upon facetious and complimentary remarks, aimed at securing a better acquaintance.

She made no reply, but hurried her mare onward, as fast as she could pick her way. She soon pa.s.sed out of the limits of the town and was in the country, though she was yet in the midst of camps, and still had to thread her way through ma.s.ses of men, horses and wagons moving along the road.

The first flutter of perturbation at going out into the darkness and the midst of armed men had given way to a more composed feeling. No one had stopped her, or offered to, no one had shown any symptom of surprise at her presence there at that hour. She began to hope that this immunity would continue until she had made her way to the Union lines. She had left the thick of the crowd behind some distance, and was going along at a fair pace, over a clear road, studying all the while the line of fires far to her right, in an attempt to discover a promising dark gap in their extent.

She was startled by a hand laid upon her bridle, and a voice saying:

"Say, Sis, who mout ye be, an' whar mout ye be a-mosyin' ter this time o' night?"

She saw a squad of brigandish-looking stragglers at her mare's head.

"My name's Polly Briggs. I live on the South Fork o' Overall's Creek.

I've done been ter Dr. Thacker's in Murfreesboro, fur some medicine fur my sick mammy, an' I'm on my way back home, an' I'd be much obleeged ter ye, gentlemen, ef ye'd 'low me ter go on, kase mammy's powerful sick, an' she's in great hurry fur her medicine."

She said this with a coolness and a perfect imitation of the speech and manner of the section that surprised herself. As she ended she looked directly at the squad, and inspected them. She saw she had reason to be alarmed. They were those prowling wolves found about all armies, to whom war meant only wider opportunities for all manner of villainy and outrage. An unprotected girl was a welcome prize to them. It was not death as a spy she had to fear, but worse. Now, if ever, she must act decisively. The leader took his hand from her bridle, as if to place it on her.

"Yer a powerful peart sort of a gal, an' ez purty ez a fawn, yer mammy kin git 'long without the medicine a little while, an'----"

He did not finish the sentence, for before his hand could touch her Rachel's whip cut a deep wale across his face, and then it fell so savagely upon the mare's flank that the high-spirited animal sprung forward as if shot from a catapult, and was a hundred yards away before the rascals really comprehended what had happened.