CHAPTER XV

I MEET AN EX-SLAVE

In this narrative of adventure it would but waste the reader’s time to indulge in any extended description of military movements.  The interest of my story centres around individuals rather than the great events of history, and I will touch these but briefly, so as to make the surrounding conditions sufficiently clear.  It was noon the following day when I reached headquarters with my report, only to find that rumors of the combined movements of Johnston’s and Beauregard’s forces had already penetrated our lines.  I could merely add details to the information previously received.  The result was the immediate strengthening of our position to repel any possible attack.  None occurred however, except desultory skirmishing.  Later we learned the reason to be the failure of Chambers to appear, his march having been retarded by heavy rains.

At the end of this period of waiting our army was well prepared for action, the troops eager to test the strength of the enemy.  Impatient of delay, and suspecting the probable cause of the Confederate quietness, we finally took the aggressive, determined to regain our former position south of the river.  An. early morning attack won us the bridge and the town beyond, while heavy forces rushed the available fords, and after some severe fighting, obtained foothold on the opposite bank.  Hastily throwing up intrenchments these advance troops succeeded in repulsing two charges before nightfall.  This brought an end to hostilities.  During the hours of darkness reinforcements were hurried across the stream.  By dawn the opposing forces were about evenly mated, and every man in either line knew a battle was imminent.

In this emergency the need of every soldier was felt, and I was returned to my regiment for duty.  We were the first to trot over the recaptured bridge, and through the deserted streets of the village.  Impelled by a curiosity which could not be resisted I wheeled my horse and rode up the gravelled driveway to Judge Moran’s door, but to my vigorous knocking there was no response.  The shades were drawn at the windows, the house silent, and yet I felt convinced the old partisan was within, watching from some point of vantage.  Yet if I believed this, the same silence and refusal to respond also served to convince me that Miss Hardy was no longer there.  She was a vastly different type, and would exhibit interest even in the coming of the enemy.  Ay! and she would have seen me, and not for one moment could I be made to believe that she would treat me with contempt.