# My Lady of the South/Chapter 7

CHAPTER VII
NEWS FOR ROSECRANS
I HAD ample time in which to reflect over all these occurrences as I urged my willing horse back along the valley road. The rest and the slow walk had revived the jaded muscles of us both, and the roan started off at a brisk trot the moment I swung into the saddle. I felt perfectly safe, so far as Jean Denslow was concerned. She certainly could no longer ride, and, to the best of my knowledge, there was no one at Fairview who could be trusted to depart westward with any message of warning to the Confederate commander. The girl herself would certainly never give up the effort quietly, and somehow I continued to feel that back of her womanly gentleness there was a firm purpose, and some well-defined plan. Yet what could she do? The possibility of her accomplishing anything in her present condition appeared so remote that I finally dismissed it entirely from my mind. As for myself, I intended following the east road at least as far as the ford at Coulter's Landing. Once safely beyond the river, I could soon find my way into the protection of the Federal lines.
I rode with sufficient caution, yet as rapidly as the condition of the roan would warrant. The night remained densely black, but I had learned to feel confident in my ​horse's keeping the path, and pushed straight ahead through the gloom, trusting implicitly to his instinct. Nothing occurred of special import, either in the valley. or along the ridge. and the faint gray of coming daylight already streaked the lowering sky in our front as we trotted down the slope to the Landing. My own immediate duty was perfectly clear, and I pressed forward to its performance without great consideration, watchful for danger, determined to bear my message direct to headquarters, but otherwise giving my surroundings little heed. Somehow my entire thought, as we thus pounded on through the night, remained back yonder with that injured girl at Fairview. Her face was constantly before me, as I leaned forward. striving to peer into the shadows ahead,—what a happy, mocking, girlish face it would be under better conditions than those amid which I had known her. Those blue-gray eyes could be wells of mirth, and there was an irresistible charm of piquancy about her manner. I had never before met with lady a personality; even under stress, and in the midst of grave peril. she was unable to conceal entirely her real sunshiny nature. Frank, truthful, outspoken, warm-hearted, she had made an impression upon me not easily forgotten. And this young woman was legally my wife! Somehow the thought sent the hot blood of youth rioting through my veins. Of course the relationship was no more than a mere name. It was not to be dwelt upon even in thought, and would be promptly dissolved. It was, as I well knew, a condition achieved by fraud and despicable deceit, yet, nevertheless, the fact remained that there was now this tie ​existing between us. And she actually neither hated nor despised me for what I had done. She would have said otherwise plainly enough had she so felt; there could he no doubt as to that—she had confessed only as she had been compelled. Over and over again I reviewed the words which had passed between us, reading into them much that never was there, and dwelling in memory upon the accent of her voice, the guarded secret of her eyes. If I had never seen her in the full flush of daylight as it flooded the shed, revealing the charming girl face, framed by the loosely gathered hair, and illumined by those wonderful eyes of blue-gray, no such recollection would have lingered both to perplex and interest me. She would have simply passed out of my thought, as many another had already done, or else remained merely a vague and indistinct remembrance. But now she was a tantalizing reality, her girlish face and form continually haunting me, her inscrutable eyes ever calling me back, the soft. Southern accent of her voice music to my memory.
There was nothing whatever at Coulter's to obstruct my progress, a mere shack of a house standing on the river's bank, a blacksmith shop, and a small store. At this early hour no sign of life was visible, not even a dog barked, and I followed the poorly marked road, which circled sharply to the left for a hundred yards, and ended at the water's edge. So far as could be discovered the opposite bank was equally deserted, and, after permitting the roan to drink all I considered safe in his heated condition, I made the passage, the water where deepest wetting the horse's belly. The main roadway led directly ​northward, but, perhaps a quarter of a mile beyond the ford, I came upon a branch heading in the direction I desired to go, and, spurring my mount into a swifter stride. turned into it. The sun was reddening the sky by this time. our surroundings becoming plainly visible. The country traversed was rough, the road running along a break in the broken lands bordering the valley, with bits of thick wood on either hand, and numerous outcropping rocks. It would have been difficult of passage in the darkness, but now in daylight it offered littIe obstruction, the surroundings of the track leaving us comparatively safe from observation. Two hours later. still urging the tired steed remorselessly forward, I arrived at a cross-roads, and a Federal picket.
So sudden was the unexpected encounter that I barely halted within range of his gun, the startled fellow so convinced the enemy was upon him I expected a shot before I could begin explanations. He was a soldier of the Forty-second Illinois, Sheridan's Division: and, after ﬁve minutes of controversy, the boyish-looking corporal, who came running forward at the sentry's ﬁrst call, consented to escort me in person to his regimental headquarters. From the Colonel's tent I was very promptly passed beyond to where Sheridan was taking breakfast on the rude porch of a log house, several of his staff clustered about him. Here I passed through some minutes of rapid questioning, and was ﬁnally despatched westward, astride a fresh horse, and accompanied by an aide. It was slightly after eight o'clock when we arrived in the presence of Rosecrans. For a moment the General scanned ​the brief note handed him by the aide; then he looked up, carefully scrutinizing my face with his quiet gray eyes.
"What is your name?"
"King, sir."
"You claim to have been a sergeant in Reynolds's Battery, I understand?"
"Yes, sir."
He turned quickly to an officer at the end of the table.
"Morton, step outside, and request Lieutenant McDermott to come here for a moment."
We waited in silence, the General nervously rustling some loose papers about on the table before him, and whispering short, snappy sentences to a man in a major's uniform seated beside him. Perhaps ten minutes thus elapsed before Morton returned with his man. Rosecrans glanced up inquiringly at the latter, and then over toward me.
"Lieutenant," he said quietly, "kindly inform us if you have ever seen this man before."
The officer thus addressed stepped over toward me, confused by the light, as well as the Confederate uniform I wore, then his bronzed face broke into a smile, and he extended his hand.
"By Heavens, King, but I am glad to see you alive and safe again; we had you marked down as 'killed, or missing,' and there are mighty few of us left."
"He belonged to you, then?" It was the voice of the General, breaking in impatiently upon our greeting.
"This man is Sergeant Elbert King, of Reynolds's Battery, sir," answered McDermott, turning instantly ​toward him, yet still retaining my hand clasped tightly within his own.
"Very well; now, Sergeant King, we are prepared to listen to your story."
I told it swiftly, realizing the value of time, and inspired by the interest I immediately perceived depicted in the faces clustered about. I related merely what they needed to know from the military view-point, leaving out all reference to the girl, except to mention that she was the cause of Lieutenant Dunn’s night ride. At the end of my narrative both Rosecrans and the Major questioned me sharply, but I was able to answer most of their queries with convincing clearness.
"You report," pursued the questioning Major ﬁnally, "that the plan, as you understood it, was to double the Confederate right wing to the rear past their centre last night; then, that during to-day, and under protection of those bluffs yonder, the centre will also be moved to the left, thus massing their entire ﬁghting force just back of Minersville soon after dark, with the intention of hurling it in solid mass against our unprepared right ﬂank at daybreak to-morrow? Do I state this correctly?"
"That was my understanding, sir."
"Yet our pickets have reported no movement apparent in their front; camp-ﬁres were burning the full length of the Confederate lines from Minersville to Coulter's Landing all through the night."
"Then the most of them must have been dummy ﬁres, sir, for I rode from Denslow’s plantation to Coulter's without encountering a single man. I am positive that ​after midnight there was not a Confederate company left on duty east of Salter's Creek. A few men may have been detailed to keep the fires going, but their regiments were certainly already on the march westward."
Rosecrans was leaning stiffly back in his chair, tapping on the table with the blunt end of a pencil, his keen eyes constantly studying my face. Suddenly he glanced over toward the group of officers standing clustered in the doorway.
"Captain Geer, were any of your scouts across the river last night?"
"Daniels, sir."
"Bring him in."
He arrived shortly, still rubbing his eyes, as though just awakened from sleep, as odd-appearing a specimen of the typical mountain white as ever I saw,—long, loosely jointed limbs, narrow, stooped shoulders, bushily whiskered face intensely solemn in expression and strangely wrinkled, yet ornamented with keen blue eyes containing some shrewd humor in their depths. His clothes were as nondescript as his appearance, and he came slouching forward carelessly, his gaze wandering over the group gathered in the room.
"Daniels," and the General's stern voice instantly commanded his attention, "Captain Geer tells me you were across the river during the night. What did you discover?"
"Wal, Gin'ral," he piped out in a mere squeak of a voice, which sounded funny enough, although no one laughed, "I reckon I did n't pick up nothin' worth talkin' ​'bout. Long maybe 'bout ten o'clock, ther night bein' tol'ble dark, I got on ther off side o' a log, an' sorter drifted with ther current, steerin' a bit, o' course, till I come in agin ther south shore. I reckon I clumb out maybe fifty feet east o' ther mouth o' Salter Crick, whar bushes grow clar down to ther edge o' ther water. I got ashore all right, an' wormed my way up to ther top o' ther bank, but thet was 'bout all I did do. Damn if I ever saw sich a picket line afore as them Rebs hed. Thar was n't a hole that a black cat could 'a crawled through. It made me think thet somethin' was happenin' fer sure, but every time I tried ter git out o' thet bunch 'o trees I run up agin a picket. I tried ter crawl up along ther crick even, wadin' in ther water under ther bank, but thet was no good. So long 'bout three o'clock I decided thet maybe I might better be gittin' back an' over to this side afore it got light."
"And you neither saw nor heard anything?"
"Not a blame lot, anyway. I heerd a battery goin' 'long, the fellers cussin' an' lickin' their hosses somethin' scand'lous; an' thar was a conside'ble mass o' cavalry marchin' behind 'em, fer their things was jingling, an' they stopped to water the bosses in the crick. I could n't git near 'nough to hear their talk. Ye see, Gin'ral, it was a line 'o fires what kept me back more'n the pickets, fer thar wan't a place but what was lit up. Thar was sure some sorter movement goin' on thar, but I could n't make head ner tail to it, 'cept that all them troops that I saw was marchin' west."
There was a long silence, Rosecrans tapping the table ​nervously with his pencil, his eyes gazing out of the open door, his forehead creased with thought. Then he spoke rapidly, his mind evidently cleared for action.
"This looks decidedly serious to me, gentlemen, and I feel sufficient faith in Sergeant King's report to act immediately upon it. If it be true that Johnston is massing against our right, and has left the ford at Coulter's unguarded, this offers us an opportunity for a countermarch, if we only move swiftly enough. Hand me the maps, Major."
He studied these intently, measuring certain distances, asking a few rapid questions of various staff officers clustered about, and jotting down their replies.
"I am fully aware of the danger involved in dividing our force in the presence of the enemy," he said, at last, lifting his eyes to the faces anxiously watching him, "but to my mind, gentlemen, the peril will be even greater if we permit the enemy to carry out their present plans unchecked. If at this juncture we can only strike unexpectedly in their rear, we shall win. The aid of surprise will be with us, and it is worth much to an army just to feel that they are on the aggressive. Smiley, ride to McGirth and Williams; tell them to mass their brigades opposite Minersville, and to hold the ford at all cost; explain the situation to them fully. Wyatt, have Coit's brigade stationed in reserve in the hills back of the town. Now Parker, Seaman, Just, and Shea, start the remainder of our troops on forced march to Coulter's Ford: let there be no delay, not even to cook rations. Wilson will move first with the cavalry, to be immediately followed by ​Sheridan's brigade. These will proceed by the river road, while the others will follow the ridge as rapidly as they can be made ready. Further orders will reach them at Coulter's. That is all, gentlemen."
Within five minutes Rosecrans, the Major, the scout Daniels, and myself were left alone in the room. The General stood motionless, listening to the hoof-beats dying away in the distance, as his messengers speeded on their missions. Then his glance fell upon me.
"Do you need rest, Sergeant?"
"No, sir."
"Glad of that, as I require your services. There is no battery I can assign you to at present, but I judge from your story that you ride well, and you should know the country thoroughly between the Landing and Salter's Creek. I am going to appoint you temporarily on my staff, with the rank of Lieutenant, and place you in command of the advance scouts. Major, see that Lieutenant King is furnished with a suitable uniform and a good horse, and that he and his command get away at once."
Twenty minutes later I was galloping down the river road, with an odd following at my heels.