# The Red Mist/Chapter 27

CHAPTER XXVII
WITH BACKS TO THE WALL
HE WAS a young fellow, with bold black eyes, a little jaunty mustache, and a mouth inclined to laugh, but what I stared at in open-eyed astonishment, was his broad-brimmed hat, and natty gray cavalry jacket.
"Some surprise party, I reckon," he chuckled grimly. "What was this, a church wedding, dear boy? Here, Wharton, kindly relieve the gentleman of his arsenal; ah! some assortment, I see. Your pardon, Madam, but occasionally even the fair sex travel armed these days, and I should hate to be harsh. Thank you, very much; Wharton take the lady's gun also. It's all right, boys."
To my unbounded amazement up from the floor, where they had been lying concealed beneath the benches a considerable number of men came scrambling to their feet. I could not count them in the dim light, but those nearest me were gray clad—troopers, from their short jackets—with carbines in their hands. Wharton, our revolvers safe in his grasp, grinned and stepped behind his officer.
​"Who, in heavens name, are you?" I asked, at last finding my voice. "Confederates here?"
"Your first guess is an excellent one," he answered lightly, evidently enjoying the scene. "It evidences a well disciplined mind, and marvelous power of observation. Yes, my Yankee friend, you now behold Confederates, Johnny Rebs, the enemy; you have the honor of being prisoner to the Third Kentucky Cavalry. Wharton."
"Yes, sir."
"Conduct the lady and gentleman to the sanctity of the pulpit, Sergeant, where they may commune with the presiding genius of this house of worship erected in the wilderness, imagine not," he continued with a wave of the hand, "that the blackened optic which adorns the ministerial countenance was a gift of the Confederacy. Far be it from us," bowing humbly to the astonished Noreen, "to war against either ladies, or the church; beauty and goodness are ever safe in our hands, and I assure you both that the reverend gentleman was delivered into our care in his present condition of disfigurement."
"You mean you hold prisoner Parson Nichols?" I asked, scarcely grasping the sense of his rambling speech.
"No doubt 'tis he, although I have no recollection that he has confided his name to our ears. We ​discovered the party alone in this edifice of worship, nursing sundry bruises and abrasions, and feeling that probably he was of the Church Militant, held him for the pleasure of his company. Stone, Michels, return to the front; now, Sergeant, you may take the prisoners."
"Just a moment, Lieutenant," and I faced him squarely, ignoring the grip of Wharton's hand on my arm. "There is no reason to hold us prisoners; all there is Yankee about me is this uniform. I have just escaped from the Federal guard at Lewisburg."
His eyes laughing, yet suspicious, swept our faces.
"I'm not easily fooled," he said, "but ready enough to learn. Who are you?"
"Thomas Wyatt, Sergeant, Staunton Horse Artillery."
"Who is your captain?"
"Philip Lavigne."
"Good; and your first lieutenant?"
"George E. Whitehouse."
"Ah! you know the battery, all right. When were you with them last?"
"Ten days ago, in camp at Front Royal."
"By all the gods, it soundeth strange but true. Come, clear up the mystery—how came you here?"
"On Jackson's orders. I was born in this county, and because of that he chose me to find out the ​numbers, and disposition of the Federal troops in this neighborhood, together with some other facts he wished to know. I was captured in Federal uniform, and held under death sentence as a spy. I escaped last night."
"And the woman?"
She threw back the cape which had partially concealed her face, revealing her bright eyes and flushed cheeks.
"Permit me to answer for myself, Lieutenant Harwood."
"You! how do you know my name?"
"From your regiment, sir, as well as certain characteristics of speech I have heard described. I am your cousin."
"My—my cousin? Heaven be praised! I never knew there was so much beauty in our family. My cousin! Hold, till I guess a bit—not Noreen Harwood?"
She nodded, her red lips smiling.
"Noreen Harwood! Why, it takes me off my feet. Yet wait, how comes it you are here with one claiming to be on our side? Did I not hear that my uncle served on Ramsay's staff—ay! a major?"
"My father is dead," she answered simply, the brightness vanishing from her face. "He was killed only a few days ago."
​"I regret to learn that, cousin," and he held out his hand, "for while I never met him or you before, my father held him in most high regard. Yet I beg you pardon me if I perform my duty as a soldier, even under these conditions. We are a small band, in the heart of the enemy's country, and cannot afford any unnecessary risk. Who is this man? and why are you here with him?"
"He has told you the truth," she answered quietly, her hand still within his. "I have known him from childhood."
"He is a Confederate soldier, then?"
"Yes."
"And you, cousin?"
"I—I am his wife."
There was a moment of silence, of hesitation. I heard the soldiers moving about the room, and the murmur of voices speaking cautiously. Then Harwood released her hand, and extended his own to me, his eyes frank and cordial.
"I accept you on faith, comrade," he said pleasantly, "but there is a spare gray jacket strapped to my saddle yonder more becoming than that blue coat. Here, Stone," with a glance over his shoulder, and a crispness to his voice, "get the extra blouse from off my horse, and bring it here; run low, lad, and keep in the shadow. Saint Christopher! but 'tis ​a most happy family reunion we're having; I'll want the story presently, but now I must look to my men. 'Tis no easy game we are playing."
"Let me understand that, Lieutenant," I exclaimed, as he turned away. "How does it happen you are here? and for what purpose?"
"A wild plan of my own, aided and abetted by the commander at Covington. We are of the garrison there," he explained briefly, his glance searching out the dim interior. "The Yankees have a forage train out as far as Hot Springs, under small guard. 'Tis the farthest east they have ever ventured, and our scouts brought the news. To this mind came the brilliant thought of cutting them off on their return march, and I got permission for the dash. We took the cut-off, and landed here about daylight. The train should have been along before now, but there is no sign of it."
"You have been in hiding here all day, and seen nothing?"
"Oh! we've seen enough," and he laughed. "But nothing we cared to measure swords with. The road yonder appears popular, but, by good luck, no Yankee shows an eagerness to attend church. There was a gang of mountain men along by here maybe two hours ago who rode up to the door, and took a look at the shebang. Whether they were Yank or ​Reb I didn't know. Anyhow we were willing enough to see them pass on out o' sight. They looked and talked as though they were spoiling for a fight."
"How many?"
"Thirty, or forty—a right smart crowd. There was only two come up, and rode round the church—a big fellow with a red beard, and a little weasened-faced fox he called Kelly."
"Yes, I know them; they were hunting after us. Did they go on east?"
"They did. So has everyone else we've seen to-day. That's what puzzled us, as to just what might be up. I reckon you must be some popular to create such a furore. Why, an hour after sun-up a whole blame company of blue-coats went by, riding like mad, their horses dripping, and a young fellow spurring them on. He'd lost his hat, and they never so much as took a side-look at this shebang. They were in some hurry, my friend."
"And neither party has returned?"
"Not a sign of them."
"What force have you here?"
"Twenty-eight enlisted men."
"You have pickets out?"
"One man each way, a mile down the road, concealed. The tower up there commands the country in both directions."
​"And your horses?"
"Hidden in the grove yonder."
I grasped the situation clearly enough, and also comprehended the reckless nonchalance of the officer. What was his purpose? his present plan? It appeared to me that the conditions warranted a retreat, back along the unfrequented mountain trail by which this daring party of adventurers had come. The troops, as well as the guerrillas, must have discovered by this time that we were not in advance of them. They would return searching every nook and corner in hope of discovering our hiding place. They might even unite their forces, impelled as they were by the same desire, and thus become truly formidable. Personal hatred of me, and the wish to regain possession of Noreen, would animate and control both Anse Cowan and the angry, humiliated lieutenant. While neither would likely confess his purpose to the other, yet their mutual interests would naturally suggest an alliance. And there was no war feud between the two which would necessarily prevent their cooperation. Indeed, the troopers would gladly welcome any excuse which would bring Cowan's gang of outlaws into closer connection. And the outfit would never pass by this church again without searching its interior. Only eagerness, a haste to overtake us in our attempted flight, had led ​to their blind riding by before. I turned to Harwood, who was whispering nonsense to Noreen.
"What do you mean to do, Lieutenant?" I asked quietly, but with my own mind made up. "Remain here?"
He stroked his small moustache.
"I thought we might hang on until midnight, Wyatt, and then, if nothing happened, take the back trail. I don't want to pass another day in this cussed hole. What do you think?"
"That the sooner we get away the better," I answered promptly. "Your position here is far more dangerous than you appear to realize. Both those parties travelling east were in search after us; they were led by men who would go to any extreme to effect our capture. I haven't time to tell you the whole story now, but it involves your cousin as well as myself. They rode straight on because they were convinced we were still ahead of them. 'Tis likely they know better now, and will search every ravine and covert on their return. If the forage train is moving this way those cavalrymen are with it in addition to the regular guard, and you will never dare attack with your small force. The only chance you have of bringing your command safely back to Covington, Lieutenant, is to get away before your presence here is suspected."
​"I suppose that's right," he admitted reluctantly. "But I don't like to turn tail without hitting a blow—it's not the style of the Third Kentucky. We could give a good account of ourselves against those Yankee troopers."
"Possibly; but not against a combination of troopers, wagon guard, and Cowan's gang of guerrillas. They would outnumber you four to one; and they are fighting men."
"You think they will combine?"
"If they meet, and there is an explanation—yes. Cowan doesn't care which side he fights on, so he gains his end, and the cavalry commander will welcome any reinforcements. They might quarrel later over results, but now they possess a common object, and will be like two peas in a pod. Do as you please, Harwood, but I am not under your command, and, if you choose to remain here, we will ride on alone. Will you go with me, Noreen?"
She had not spoken, and in the fast increasing gloom I could scarcely distinguish her presence. But at my direct question she took a step toward me, and I felt the presence of her hand on my sleeve.
"Yes," she said simply, "whenever you think best. Cousin," she added, glancing across her shoulder at the perplexed officer, "I would like you to come too."
​He laughed, wheeling about in sudden decision.
"I reckon I might as well," he admitted good humoredly, "as long as the family endorses the move. Wharton, have the pickets drawn in, and the men mustered. "We'll start—Great God! What is that?"
It was the sound of a scattered volley, the pieces not all of the same caliber, the reports ringing clear. In the instant of silence which followed, a voice called down excitedly from the tower:
"There is firing to the east, sir."
"How far away, Somers?" It was the sergeant who spoke.
"'Bout a quarter of a mile, I reckon; the flash showed up a bunch o' men this side o' the big rock. They must o' got sight o' Hardy, sir, an' popped away at him; thet's 'bout whar he was."
Harwood swore, but his sudden oath was not altogether uncheerful, as he strode across to the nearest window on that side, and endeavored to peer out. Except for a faint tinge of light in the west, and a half moon in the southern sky, we were enveloped in darkness. I could scarcely distinguish the girl at my side, although the windows emitted a slight glimmer, and the form of the lieutenant outlined against the opening was dimly visible. I doubt if he perceived anything, but we all of us heard the sound of hoofs, ​and the approaching rumble of wagon wheels. Harwood turned, and faced inward.
"It's the forage train, boys," he said sharply, "with a bunch of cavalry riding ahead. Get to the windows, but be quiet about it—you know the orders. By God! Wharton, we're liable to have our fight yet. Have the men load; come with me, Wyatt, where we can see out in front."
Noreen clung to me, as I groped my way through the narrow door into the vestibule. It could make little difference where she was in case we were discovered and attacked; better, indeed, that we remain together. At the open window I held her hands, and the three of us watched in silence, staring out at the white ribbon of road revealed under the moon, the noise of the approaching column growing more distinct.