"I won't do anything of the sort. Thunderation! you are goin' to run right into the arms of the rebels."

"Obey my orders! That's all you have to do. I can take care of myself."

"Excuse me, Tom--Lieutenant Somers."

"I know all about it, uncle. You do what I tell you, and you shall have all the particulars to-night, when I return."

"Return! You will be in Libby, if you are not shot, by dark."

"If I am, leave that to me," replied Somers, as he rolled over into the long gra.s.s of the bog, and entirely concealed himself from the view of his own men. "Now fire one or two shots into the rebel picket and then retire."

Hapgood reluctantly obeyed the order; though he felt as though he was signing the death-warrant of his young friend by doing so. The bullets began to fly; but the sergeant took care to keep his men out of sight as they retreated. The enemy followed; for they always chase a retiring foe, and run from an advancing one. They reached the bog in which Somers was concealed, where one of the three fell before a ball which the lieutenant was sure had been directed by the practiced eye of the veteran sergeant.

The other two swore at the calamity, and vowed vengeance on the Yankee who had done the deed.

Hapgood continued to retire, and led his foe to the very verge of the woods. In the meantime, the lieutenant emerged from his hiding-place. The first object that attracted his attention was the ghastly face of the dead rebel. The sight of him was not pleasant, but it was suggestive; and, without the loss of a moment, he dragged the body into the gra.s.s, and hastily removed the uniform from it. It was a loathsome task; but the necessity of the moment seemed to justify the act. Taking off his own uniform, he put on that of the dead rebel, who was fortunately about his own size. Rolling up his own clothing in as small a bundle as possible, he concealed it in the bog, at some distance from the place where the picket had fallen. Dragging the corpse to a quagmire, he sunk it beneath the muddy waters, and it pa.s.sed from his view. After taking the precaution to straighten up the long gra.s.s, which might have betrayed his movements, he advanced towards the rebel lines.

Lieutenant Somers felt that he was now actually embarked in his perilous venture. He was within the enemy's line, and in disguise. If discovered, he would be liable to the penalty of being a spy. But inasmuch as he did not intend to be discovered, he did not think it necessary to expend his nervous energy in a discussion of this question. Success was a duty to him; and he spent no time in considering the dark side of the picture.

He was excited, and he knew that he was excited. He knew that coolness and impudence were the essential elements of success in such an adventure; and when he had followed the woods nearly to the top of the hill, he sat down to recover his self-possession, and compose his nerves to their natural quietude. It was not a very easy matter. He had already arranged his plan of future operations, and he diligently set about the business of making his appearance correspond with his circ.u.mstances.

He felt that he was hardly dirty enough to be a rebel; so he rubbed his face, neck and hands with some dark-colored earth, ripped his pants and coat in sundry places, and otherwise disfigured his comely person, till Miss Lilian Ashford would not have known him, or if she had known him, would have been ashamed to acknowledge his acquaintance. Having completed this work to his entire satisfaction, he rose, and resumed his march towards the rebel line. He had advanced but a few paces before he felt something in the breast-pocket of his coat, which excited his curiosity.

It was a diary which the dead soldier had kept from the time he entered the army.

Such a work would have been deeply interesting to the lieutenant at any time, but especially at the present, when he was sadly in want of the information which would enable him to personate the difficult part he had chosen to perform. Seating himself on the ground again, he was soon absorbed in the contents of the note-book. The owner's name was Owen Raynes; and from the diary Somers learned that he had been a clerk in Richmond when the war broke out; and that his father resided on the Williamsburg road, near Seven Pines, where the battle had been fought.

Somers was alarmed at this information; for the young man must be well known in the neighborhood. Of course he could not a.s.sume the name and character of Owen Raynes.

Though the time was precious, he continued to read the diary till he came to an entry which excited his deep interest: "Poor Allan Garland was captured to-day by the Yankees; and I suppose they will torture and starve the poor fellow, as they have the rest of our boys who have fallen into their hands. We shall never meet again. He was a good fellow. He was on a scout."

Somers was deeply concerned about poor Allan Garland, who had fallen into the hands of the terrible Yankees, to be tortured and starved; and he turned back to the beginning of the diary to obtain further particulars in regard to this interesting person. Fortunately for history, and particularly for Lieutenant Somers, Owen Raynes had given a tolerably full account of his friend. They had been to school together in Union, Alabama, where Owen had an uncle, and where Allan resided. They were fast friends; and both agreed to enlist as volunteers in the Fourth Alabama, Colonel Bush Jones; for their schoolmates were mostly in this regiment.

When the regiment arrived at Richmond, Owen had not time to visit his father; for the troops were instantly ordered to Mana.s.sas, and he enrolled himself without discovering that his friend was not in the ranks. He was too sick to come with his comrades; "wrote letter to Allan"

was a frequent entry in the diary, until June 18, 1862, when this record appears: "Allan joined the regiment to-day; has been sick about a year; is very well now; he is a handsome fellow. Sue shall be his wife, if I can bring it about; they have kept up a correspondence for three years; she never saw him, but she will like him."

"All right!" exclaimed Somers, as he closed the book, and put it in his pocket. "I am Allan Garland. Don't think I shall marry Sue, though, whoever she may be. I wonder if Lilian Ashford would object. I don't know as she would. Never mind; I am a soldier of the Fourth Alabama, Colonel Jones, just now. How are you, Allan Garland?"

He walked along towards the rebel lines, feeling in his pockets for further revelations. An old letter from Allan Garland rewarded his search. He spoke tenderly of Sue, who was Owen's sister.

"Sue wouldn't think I'm very handsome just now," said Somers, glancing at his dirty hands, and imagining his dirty face, as he continued to advance.

CHAPTER X

ALLAN GARLAND AND FRIENDS

Allan Garland, _nee_ Somers, advanced confidently towards the rebel line. As he was to perform the leading part in the exciting drama about to be acted, he conducted himself with the utmost caution. Everything depended upon the amount of impudence he could bring to bear upon the case before him, and the skill with which he personated the part he had chosen. He knew of nothing, short of falling on the Fourth Alabama, which could disconcert him. Even if he did, there were only a few who knew the captured scout; and his chances were fair, even if the worst should befall him.

"Stand!" said a rebel sentinel on the breastwork of the line. "Who goes there?"

"Friend," replied Somers confidently.

"What's your name?"

"Allan Garland. Can you tell me where the Fourth Alabama is?"

"About four miles from here. Do you belong to the Fourth Alabama?"

"Well, I did before I was captured; I don't know where I belong now."

"Where d'ye come from?"

"Just got away from the Yankees. They gobbled me up about three weeks ago."

"Bully for you! Come in; you can report to the officer of the day."

Somers was entirely willing, and hastened in the direction indicated by the sentinel; and was soon ushered into the presence of Major Platner, brigade-officer of the day. He was a very pompous little man, and Somers saw his weakness as soon as he spoke. With a most profound bow, he answered the questions of the major, using the utmost deference in his tone and manner.

"How dare you present yourself before an officer of the day with such a dirty face?" demanded Major Platner.

"I hope your honor will pardon me; but I have just escaped from the Yankees, and have not had time to wash my face. If you please, sir, I will go and do it now. I thought I ought to come to you without any delay."

"You did right, young man," replied the major with a consequential flourish of the hand. "You were out scouting when you were taken?"

"Yes, sir."

Major Platner then proceeded to ask a great many questions in regard to the force and position of the Yankees; all of which Somers answered entirely in the interest of the Union party. He was very careful not to give a particle of information that could be useful to the rebels; at the same time avoiding any gross exaggerations which would throw discredit on his story.

"You seem to be a very intelligent and patriotic young man," added the officer. "I have heard some inquiries for a person of your description to-day."

"I have always endeavored to do my duty to my country," answered Somers, trying to blush under the compliment of the patronizing little major; "and I kept my eyes wide open while I was in the Yankee camps."

"I see you did. Your information is very definite, and, I doubt not, very reliable."

"My only desire has been to serve my country, sir," added Somers very modestly.

"Well, go and wash your face, so that we can see what color you are, and I will report your name to the general, who was inquiring for a useful person like yourself. I trust that you will have discretion enough not to mention anything that has pa.s.sed between us."

"Certainly not, sir. I judge, from what you have said, that my poor services may be required for some special service."

"That is the idea which I intended to convey. In a word, the commander of this division wants information. You have just come from the Yankee lines, and you know where to look for the intelligence that will be of the most value to us."

"I think I do, sir."

"The fact that you have just made your way through the Yankee lines shows that you possess the necessary address."

"I thank you for your good opinion; and I a.s.sure you, sir, that I should be very glad to serve my country in any capacity in which she may require my humble labors."