Waterbury evening Democrat., 1904-10-25
CHAPTER VI.

I l 1&s A STRANGER WITHIN OUR GATES.
 When Lieut.. Benton rode away from l the Henry house that sunshiny evening
 the long sh adows were slanting across
 the levels, and the dazzling shield of
 the day god was well down at the west.
 Shadows, too, had fallen on the blithe I spirits that had been his In the earlier hours. Surely he could not have been l mistaken about that face, thinned and
 haggard as though from recent illness, l and livid with the consciousness of
 imminent peril; and, if he had not
 been mistaken. just as surely he had
 bean tricked-tricked in all probability ! by that defiant and yet most attractive !. Virginia girl Virginian he believed
 her to be, partly because her accent I so resenbled that of the very palpable l Virginian, the owner. and partly be- cause that courteous and we1l-man-
 nered native, in answer to somewhat
 imperious question, said The young
 lady, suh, is 8 daughter of old Doctor
 Chiffon, of Charlottesville.
 To the very natural question that l followed, What was Miss Chilton do- l ing there?" the Virginian had an an ] swer equally prompt and dignifed. 1 Her brother, a lieutenant in Stuart's
 cavalry, had been accidently shot by I the pickets the dark night of March
 4th, had been left with an attendant at the Thornton place acrosT Bull Run, too badly wounded to be moved when
 Johnson fell back from Manassas, had
 bribed his friends to send him away l in a cart when he heard of the union
 advance, and cart and contents had l been run down by other troopers I Averell' before they reached Manas-
 sas. The wounded boy, delirious with fever, was even now lying in the room
 his sister guarded. Dr. Alexander, of Gen. MoDoweIl' s. staff, had twice been i to see him. Dr. Chiffon had come, bringing his devoted daughter, and 1 then gone on to Fairfax in hopes of ] obtaining from Gen. Mcclellan permis- aion to take his son home on parole. l by slow stages, to harIottesville, and I Miss Chiffon meanwhile remained there Nnder what was left of roof, and what < he, MT. Henry. could offer by way of care and protection. Brief conference 1 with the guard without did much to confirm Benton in his faith in the truth, l of the statement. They assured him l that if anybody else was harbored or l hidden there he could not escape, for 1 they were ordered to prevent the oc- cupants from leaving, as well as to pro-
 tect the premises from harm.
 At five o'clock, therefore, the young | aide-de-camp went his way, not fully
 satisfied by any means, but content to l seek explanation at corps headquarters
 and to investigate further on his re- turn. Tn point of fact he was doubt l full as to his duties and prerogatives
 in the matter and needed his generals advice. He meant to tell him just what I he feared or suspected Paul
 Ladue himself, in some unaccountable
 manner had become separated from his 1 regiment. possibly through illness or
 wounds, and was concealed within the l shattered walls of the old Virginia farmhouse. But, just at tho time when l he most needed the instructions of his own division chief, he was destined to \ be cut off from him-and for many l day.
 I 1t was after sundown, and long after.
 when at last, riding some miles at
 swift trot, he overlook the corps com I mander with his staff on the road 1 beyond Centreyille. ..Ah,'' said that | soldierly leader, the general Is prompt. | What time did he start?"
 Start, sir?" said Benton, his heart
 beating quick and hard again. T don't l know. I was instructed to deliver this
 letter and to ask to have these others sent on to Washington by your courier tonight, but thought to find you west l of Centreville, not on the march, sir" l "Then my orders had not arrived
 when you left? Why, what hour did l you leave, sir?" and McDowell's face 1 reddened as 1t would when he was an l noyed.
 ! About four o'clock, general, but" q -Four o'clock, sir! Then where on
 earth have you been all this timer"
 T came by way of the Henry house
 to look at the old battlefield, general.
 We had no idea of your moving, and
 there was plenty of time before dark"
 answered poor Fred, noting with much concern the ominous silence of the listening staff and orderlies.
 You must have stayed an uncon-
 scionable time there,' grumbled the
 general, who had not yet ceased to feel
 touchy at any mention of Bull Run the
 First. (sLonger than he did last July"
 laughed O'Kane, of the Montgomery's,
 when told of it.) "Ah, remember.
 That pretty daughter of old Chilton's
 is there. You saw her, suppose?" I T suppose I did, general" was the
 rueful answer, though she in no wise sought to detain me. Quite the con
 srary."