Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1905-01-03
CHAPTER ".
A Woman With a Temper.

y
] thought the stars grew somewhat bright
err as we galloped on. the iron-shod hoofs
row and then striking out sudden sparks
of yellow flame from the fiinty surface of
the road; but this may have resulted from
the lowering of the rocky barriers on either
side making the arch of sky more clearly
visible. The air perceptibly freshened, with
a chilly mountain wind beating against our
faces and rustling the leaves of the phan-
tom trees that lined the way. The woman
rode silently and we'll 1 could make out
her figure now, dim and indistinct as the
outlines were in that darkness and wrap
ped in the. loose folds of. an officers cloak.
She was sitting firm and upright in the
saddle; l even marked how, with the ease
and grace of a practical horsewoman, she
he'd the reins.
| think we must have been fully an hour
at it, riding at no pace, and with
utter disregard of danger. Although knew
little of where we were, and nothing as to
the condition of the path we traversed, yet
so complete was my confidence in Craig
that I felt no hesitancy in blindly follow
ing the pace he set Then a black shape
doomed up before us so suddenly that 1t
was only by a quick effort l prevented a
collision. Even as l held my horse poised
half in air, l perceived it was Craig HIM
self who blocked the way.
What is it, sergeant"
"A picket sir, at the end of the road
he said quietly. Il kinder reckoned they
hev some sort O guard thar, so l crept up
on the quiet ter be sure. The Teller helped
me out bit by strikin a match ter see
what time t was. or l reckon I'd a walked
over him in Their dark"
Had We better ride him DOWN. 1 asked
| thinking only how rapidly the night hours
were speeding and of the Importance of the
duty pressing upon u.s.
Not with Their woman, SIR he answered
| in low, reproachfu voice Resides we
never could git through without a shot an
if by any dern luck it should turn out ter
be cavalry outpost.-an' l sorter reckon
that's what it is.-why, our horses are in
| no shape fer a hard run. You uns better
wait here, sir, an let me tend ter that
soger man quiet like, an then p'raps we
uns kin all slip by without a stirrin' up
Their patrol"
Well, l said, reluctantly yielding to
what felt was doubtless the wiser course.
and mechanically grasping the rein he held
out to me, go ahead. But be careful, and
don't waste any time. If we hear the sound
of a shot we shall ride forward under
spur"
"All right, sir, but there'll be no fuss,
fer l know just whar Their fellar is
Time seems criminally long when one is
compelled to wait in helpless uncertainty,
every nerve on strain. --.-
Hold yourself ready for a sudden start"
I said warningly TO my companion. IF
there is any noise of struggle yonder
shall drive in the spurs
AS l spoke l swung the sergeant's horse
around to my side, where l could control
him more readily.
There was no reply from the woman. but
l noticed she endeavored to draw together
the Tapping cape of her cloak, as though
she felt chilled by the wind and her figure
seemed to stiffen in the saddle.
Are you cold?" I questioned more per-
haps to throttle my own nervousness by
speech than from better motive
She shook her head: then, as If thinking
better of 1t, answered lightly:
THE wind appears to find obstacle in
this cloak, but | am not suffering
l wrapped the loose rein of Craig's horse
about the pommel of my saddle and bent
toward her.
Permit me- 1 said; you probably do
not comprehend the intricacies of a cavalry
cloak If l fasten these upper frogs 1
think it will help to keep out the night air. "
Without protest she permitted me to draw
the Tapping cloth together and fasten it
closer about her throat; but whatever tam
taliZing curiosity l may have felt to view
her face effectually blocked by the
high collar behind which she Immediately
took refuge
Il am sure that will be much better; you
are very kind" The words We're pleasant
enough, yet there was something in both
tone and manner that pqued me, and
turned away without speaking.
1t came at last-not the sharp flash of a
musket cleaving the night in twain, but
merely the tall figure of the sergeant steal
ing silently out of the gloom, like black
ghost. and standing at our very horses
heads.
"AH clear, sir" he reported in a matter
of-fact tone But we shall hev ter move
M oil
amt more nor a hundred yards ter the
right O. the crossin'.''
He did not remount but, with reins flung
loosely over his arm, led the way slowly
forward and carefully we followed him.
What had become of the sentinel l did
not know. respecting Craig's evident desire
for silence: but as we drew nearer The
White Brian road I sought in vain to pierce
the dense gloom and note some sign of
struggle. some darker shadow where a body
might be lying There was nothing visible
to tell the story.
The sergeant walked without the least
hesitation across the open space, directly
into the deep shadows opposite, where the
cross-road continued to hold way. Crouch
ing low in the saddle. we followed him
silently as though we We're but spirits
of the night. Up the road 1 caught the
red CLEAN of a fire almost spent, and
black figure crossed between us, casting an
odd shadow against the face of the rock
where it was lighted by the pickering red
mere glimpse. but it formed one of those
sudden pictures which paint themselves on
the brain and can never after be efraced.
l recall yet the long shade cast by the
mans gun, the grotesque shape of his flap
ping army overcoat the quick change in
the silhouette he wheeled to retrace his
beat. But there was noise, not even
the sound of his footsteps reaching
Even as l gazed. lying nearly full length
upon my horse, had crossed the open,
and perfect tangle of low bushes hid us
as completely as if we had entered the
yawning mouth of a cavern.
A hundred yards or more of sharply curv-
ing road densely lined with shrubbery on
either hand, and then Craig swung into
saddle and again gave spur to his horse.
I'VE must ride for 1t now he said terse-
ly when tibet patrol makes their round,
them fellers will be after US hot"
I urged my tired horse to a gallop, press
ing upon Craigs heels as closely as
dared; nor did 1 glance back, for I knew
we'll that a dead picket was lying some
where by the crossroads and that his
comrades would be heard from before the
dawn.
We were moving bravely now; for the
road under foot grew better as we adj
vanced, and gave back the dull thud of
soft earth instead of the rafting clang of
the rocKs we had been so long accustomed