CHAPTER VI
THE PURSUIT OF A WOMAN
The silver lining which the reception to General Morgan put in the cloudalways hanging over Richmond lasted until the next day, when the contentof the capital was rudely shattered by news that important papers hadbeen stolen from the office of the President in the granite building onBank Street. The exact value of these papers the public did not know,but they contained plans, it was said, of the coming campaign and exactdata concerning the military and financial condition of the Confederacy.They were, therefore, of value alike to the Government and its enemies,and great was the noise over their disappearance.
The theft, so supposition ran, was committed while nearly all theofficials were present at the festivities of the preceding day, and whenthe guard about the public offices, never very strict, was relaxed morethan usual. But the clue stopped there, and, so far as the city couldhear, it bade fair to remain at that point, as the crush of greataffairs about to decide the fate of a nation would not permit a longsearch for such a secret spring, though the leakage might proveexpensive.
"Probably some faithless servant who hopes to sell them to the North fora large reward," said Raymond to Prescott.
"I think not," replied Prescott with emphasis.
"Ah, you don't? Then what do you think?" asked Raymond, looking at himsharply.
"A common spy," replied Prescott, not wishing to be surprised intofurther disclosure of his thought. "You know such must be here. In warno city or army is free from spies."
"But that's a vague generalization," said Raymond, "and leads tonothing."
"True," said Prescott, but he intended a further inquiry into the matteron his own account, and this he undertook as soon as he was free fromothers. He was perhaps better fitted than any one else in Richmond forthe search, because he had sufficient basis upon which to build a planthat might or might not lead to a definite issue.
He went at once to the building in which the President had his office,where, despite the robbery of the day before, he roamed about among therooms and halls almost as he pleased, inquiring and making suggestionswhich might draw from the attendants facts to them of slight importance.Yes, visitors had been there the day before, chiefly ladies, some fromthe farther South, drawn by veneration for their beloved President and awish to see the severe and simple offices from which the destiny ofeleven great States and the fate of the mightiest war the world had everknown was directed.
And who were the ladies? If their names were not known, could not adescription of their appearance be given? But no one had any definitememory on these points; they were just like other sightseers. Was therea tall woman with a brown cloak among them? Prescott put this questionto several people, but drew no affirmative reply until he found an oldcoloured man who swept the halls. The sweeper thought that he didremember seeing such a figure on the lower floor, but he was not sure,and with that Prescott was forced to be content.
He felt that his search had not been wholly in vain, leading as it didto what might be called the shadow of a clue, and he resolved tocontinue it. There had been leaks before in the Confederacy, some bychance and some by design, notably an instance of the former when Lee'smessage to his lieutenant was lost by the messenger and found by aNorthern sympathizer, thus informing his opponents of his plan andcompelling him to fight the costly battle of Antietam. If he pursuedthis matter and prevented its ultimate issue, he might save theConfederacy far more than he could otherwise.
Richmond was a small city, difficult of entrance without a pass, and fortwo or three days Prescott, abandoning the society of his friends, trodits streets industriously, not neglecting the smallest and meanest amongthem, seeking always a tall figure in a brown dress and brown cloak. Itbecame an obsession with him, and, as he now recognized, there was evenmore in it than a mere hunt for a spy. This woman troubled him; hewished to know who and what she was and why she, a girl, had undertakena task so unfitting. Yet war, he remembered, is a destroyer ofconventions, and the mighty upheaval through which the country was goingcould account for anything.
He found on the third day his reward in another glimpse of the elusiveand now tantalizing brown figure under the brow of Shockoe Hill,strolling along casually, as if the beauty of the day and the free airof the heavens alone attracted.
The brown dress had been changed, but the brown cloak remained the same,and Prescott felt a pang of remorse lest he had done an injustice to awoman who looked so innocent. Until this moment he had never seen herface distinctly, save one glimpse, but now the brown hood that she worewas thrown back a little and there shone beneath it clear eyes ofdarkest blue, illuminating a face as young, as pure, as delicate inoutline as he could have wished for in a sister of his own. No harmcould be there. A woman who looked like that could not be engaged uponan errand such as he suspected, and he would leave her undisturbed.
But, second thought came. He put together again all the circumstances,the occasions upon which he had seen her, especially that day of theMorgan reception, and his suspicions returned. So he followed her again,at a distance now, lest she should see him, and was led a long andwinding chase about the capital.
He did not believe that she knew of his presence, and these vaguemeanderings through the streets of Richmond confirmed his belief. Noone with a clear conscience would leave such crooked tracks, and whatother purpose could she have now save to escape observation until thevigilance of the sentinels, on edge over the robbery, should relax alittle and she could escape through the cordon of guards that belted inRichmond.
She passed at last into an obscure side street and there entered alittle brown wooden cottage. Prescott, watching from the corner, saw herdisappear within, and he resolved that he would see her, too, when shecame out again. Therefore he remained at the corner or near it,sauntering about now and then to avoid notice, but always keeping withina narrow circle and never losing sight of the house.
He was aware that he might remain there a long time, but he had a stiffwill and he was bent upon solving this problem which puzzled andirritated him.
It was about the middle of the afternoon when he traced her to thecottage, but the fragment of the day remaining seemed long to him.Golden shadows hung over the capital, but at last the sun went down in asea of flame and the cold night of winter gathered all within its folds.
Prescott shivered as he trod his beat like a policeman, but he was of atenacious fiber, and scorning alike the warnings of cold and hunger, heremained near the house, drawing closer and watching it more zealouslythan ever in the moonlight. His resolution strengthened, too; he wouldstay there, if necessary, until the sunset of the next day.
More hours passed at a limping gait. The murmur of the city died, andall was dark and still in the side street. Far into the night, nearlytwelve, it must have been, when a figure stole from the cottage andglanced up the little ravine toward the main street, where Prescottstood invisible in the shadow of a high wooden fence.
She did not come by the front door, but stole out from the rear. He wasconvinced that he was right in his suspicions, and now every action ofthis unknown woman indicated guilt to his mind.
He crouched down in an angle of the fence, hidden completely by itsshadow and the night, though he could see her well as she came up thelittle street, walking with light step and watching warily on everyside. He noticed even then how strong and elastic her figure appearedand that every step was instinct with life and vitality. She must be awoman of more than common will and mould.
She came on, slightly increasing her speed, and did not see the darkfigure of the man by the fence. A hood was drawn to her eyes and a foldof her cloak covered her chin. He could see now only a wisp of face likea sickle of a silver moon, and the feeling that disturbed him in the daydid not return to him. He again imagined her cold and hard, a woman ofmiddle age, battered by the world, an adventuress who did not fear to goforth in the night upon what he thought unholy errands.
She entered the main street, passed swiftly down i
t toward the barriersof the city, and Prescott, with noiseless footsteps, came behind; oneshadow following the other.
None save themselves seemed to be abroad. The city was steeped inSabbath calm and a quiet moon rode in a quiet heaven. Prescott did notstop now to analyze his feelings, though he knew that a touch of pique,and perhaps curiosity, too, entered into this pursuit, otherwise heshould not have troubled himself so much with an unbidden task. But hewas the hunter and she the hunted, and he was alive now with the spiritof the chase.
She turned toward the northwest, where the lines of earthwork werethinnest, where, in fact, a single person might slip between them in thedarkness, and Prescott no longer had any doubt that his first surmisewas correct. Moreover, she was wary to the last degree, lookingcautiously on every side and stopping now and then to see that she wasnot followed. A fine moon sometimes shed its full rays upon her, and sheseemed then to Prescott to be made of silver mist.
He, too, was most wary, knowing the need of it, and allowed thedistance between them to lengthen, clinging meanwhile to the shadow ofbuildings and fences with such effect that when she looked back shenever saw the man behind.
They passed into the suburbs, low and straggling, little groups of negrocabins stringing out now and then in the darkness, and the woman, savefor her occasional pauses to see if she were pursued, kept a straightand rapid course as if she knew her mind and the way.
They came at last to a spot where there was a small break in theearthworks, and Prescott saw the sentinels walking their beats, gun onshoulder. Then the fugitive paused in the shadow of bushes and highgrass and watched attentively.
The pursuit had become curiously unreal to Prescott. It seemed to himthat he was in the presence of the mysterious and weird, but he wasresolute to follow, and he wished only that she should resume herflight.
When the sentinels were some distance apart she slid between like ashadow, unseen and unheard, and Prescott, an adept at pursuit, quicklyfollowed. They were now beyond the first line of earthworks, though yetwithin the ring of Richmond's outer defenses, but a single person withordinary caution might pass the latter, too.
He followed her through bushes and clumps of trees which hung likepatches of black on the shoulders of the hills, and he shortened thespace between them, not caring now if she saw him, as he no longer hadany doubt of her purpose. He looked back once and saw behind him analmost imperceptible glow which he knew was the city, and then on theleft beheld another light, the mark of a Confederate fortress, set thereas a guard upon the ways.
She turned to the right, leaving the fortress behind, passing intocountry still more desolate, and Prescott thought it was now time to endthe pursuit. He pressed forward with increased speed, and she, hearingthe sound of a footstep behind her, looked back. He heard in the deadstillness of the night the low cry of fright that broke from her. Shestood for a moment as if the power of motion had departed, and then fledlike a wounded deer, with Prescott, more than ever the hunter, swiftlyfollowing after.
He was surprised at her speed. Clearly she was long-limbed and strong,and for the time his energies were taxed to keep within sight of herfleeing figure. But he was a man, she a woman, and the pursuit was notlong. At last she sank, panting, upon a fallen log, and Prescottapproached her, a strange mingling of triumph and pity in his heart.
She looked up and there was appeal in her face. Again he saw how youngshe was, how pure the light of her eyes, how delicately moulded eachfeature, and surprise came, as a third emotion, to mingle with thetriumph and pity, and not in a less degree.
"Ah, it is you," she said, and in her tone there was no surprise, onlyaversion.
"Yes, it is I," replied Prescott; "and you seemed to have expected me."
"Not in the way that you think," she replied haughtily.
A wonderful change came over her face, and her figure seemed to stiffen;every lineament, every curve expressed scorn and contempt. Prescott hadnever before seen such a remarkable transformation, and for the momentfelt as if he were the guilty one and she the judge.
While he was wondering thus at her attractive personality, she rose andstood before him.
"Now, sir," she said, "you shall let me go, Mr.----Mr.----"
"I am Captain Robert Prescott of the Confederate Army," said Prescott."I have nothing to conceal," and then he added significantly: "Atpresent I am on voluntary duty."
"I have seen enough of you," she said in the same unbending tone. "Youhave given me a fright, but now I am recovered and I bid you leave me."
"You mistake, Madam or Miss," replied Prescott calmly, recovering hiscomposure; "you and I have not seen enough of each other. I am agentleman, I hope, at least I have passed for one, and I have no intentto insult you."
"What is your wish?" she asked, still standing before him, straight andtall, her tone as cold as ice.
"Truly," thought Prescott, "she can carry it off well, and if suchbusiness as this must be done by a woman, hers is a mind for the task."But aloud he said: "Madam--or--Miss--you see you are less frank than I;you do not supply the omission--certain documents important to theGovernment which I serve, and as important to our enemies if they canget them, were taken yesterday from the office of the President. Kindlygive them to me, as I am a better custodian for them than you are."
Her face remained unchanged. Not by a single quiver of the lip or gleamof the eye did she show emotion, and in the same cold, even voice shereplied:
"You are dreaming, Captain Prescott. Some freak of the fancy hasmastered you. I know nothing of the documents. How could I, a woman, dosuch a thing?"
"It is not more strange than your flight from Richmond alone and at suchan hour."
"What signifies that? These are times of war and strange times demandstrange conduct. Besides, it concerns me alone."
"Not so," replied Prescott firmly; "give me the papers."
Her face now changed from its calm. Variable emotions shot over it.Prescott, as he stood there before her, was conscious of admiration.What vagary had sent a girl who looked like this upon such a task!
"The papers," he repeated.
"I have none," she replied.
"If you do not give them to me I shall be compelled to search you, andthat, I fancy, you do not wish. But I assure you that I shall do it."
His tone was resolute. He saw a spark of fire in her eye, but he did notquail.
"I shall turn my back," he added, "and if the papers are not producedin one minute's time I shall begin my search."
"Would you dare?" she asked with flashing eyes.
"I certainly would," he replied. "I trust that I know my duty."
But in a moment the light in her eyes changed. The look there was anappeal, and it expressed confidence, too. Prescott felt a strangetremour. Her glance rested full upon him and it was strangely soft andpathetic.
"Captain Prescott," she said, "upon my honour--by the memory of mymother, I have no papers."
"Then what have you done with them?" said Prescott.
"I have never had any."
He looked at her doubtfully. He believed and yet he did not. But hereyes shone with the light of purity and truth.
"Then why are you out here at such an hour, seeking to escape fromRichmond?" he asked at last.
"Lest I bring harm to another," she said proudly.
Prescott laughed slightly and at once he saw a deep flush dye her face,and then involuntarily he made an apology, feeling that he was in thepresence of one who was his equal.
"But I must have those papers," he said.
"Then keep your threat," she said, and folding her arms proudly acrossher breast she regarded him with a look of fire.
Prescott felt the blood rising in his face. He could not fulfil hismenace and now he knew it.
"Come," he said abruptly, "you must go back to Richmond with me. I cantake you safely past the earthworks and back to the house from which youcame; there my task shall end, but not my duty."
However, he comforted himself wit
h the thought that she had not passedthe last line of defenses and perhaps could not do so at another time.
The girl said nothing, but walked obediently beside him, tall, straightand strong. She seemed now to be subdued and ready to go wherever hedirected.
Prescott recognized that his own position in following the course thathe had chosen was doubtful. He might turn her over to the nearestmilitary post and then his troubles concerning her would be at an end;but he could not choose that alternative save as a last resort. She hadmade an appeal to him and she was a woman, a woman of no ordinary type.
The night was far gone, but the moon was full, and now spread its veilof silver mist over all the hills and fields. The earth swam in anunreal light and again the woman beside Prescott became unreal, too. Hefelt that if he should reach out his hand and touch her he would touchnothing but air, and then he smiled to himself at such a trick of fancy.
"I have given you my name," he said. "Now what shall I call you?"
"Let it go for the time," she replied.
"I must, since I have no way to compel you," he said.
They approached the inner line of earthworks through which they hadpassed in the flight and pursuit, and now Prescott felt it his duty tofind the way back, without pausing to reflect on the strangeness of thefact that he, a Confederate soldier, was seeking to escape the notice ofthe Confederate pickets for the sake of a spy belonging to the otherside.
They saw again the sentinels walking back and forth, gun on shoulder,and waiting until they were farthest apart, Prescott touched the womanon the arm. "Now is our time," he said, and they slid with soundlessfootsteps between the sentinels and back into Richmond.
"That was well done!" said Prescott joyfully. "You can shut an army outof a town, but you can't close the way to one man or two."
"Captain Prescott," said the girl, "you have brought me back intoRichmond. Why not let me go now?"
"I take you to the house from which you came," he replied.
"That is your Southern chivalry," she said, "the chivalry of which Ihave heard so much."
He was stung by the keen irony in her tone. She had seemed to him, forawhile, so humble and appealing that he had begun to feel, in a sense,her protector, and he did not expect a jeer at the expense of himselfand his section. He had been merciful to her, too! He had sacrificedhimself and perhaps injured his cause that he might spare her.
"Is a woman who plays the part of a spy, a part that most men wouldscorn, entitled to much consideration?" he asked bluntly.
She regarded him with a cold stare, and her figure stiffened as he hadseen it stiffen once before.
"I am not a spy," she said, "and I may have reasons, powerful reasons,of which you know nothing, for this attempted flight from Richmondto-night," she replied; "but that does not mean that I will explain themto you."
Prescott stiffened in his turn and said with equal coldness:
"I request you, Madam or Miss, whichever you may be, to come with me atonce, as we waste time here."
He led the way through the silent city, lying then under the moonlight,back to the little street in which stood the wooden cottage, neitherspeaking on the way. They passed nobody, not even a dog howled at them,and when they stood before the cottage it, too, was dark and silent.Then Prescott said:
"I do not know who lives there and I do not know who you are, but Ishall consider my task ended, for the present at least, when its doorshide you from me."
He spoke in the cold, indifferent tone that he had assumed when hedetected the irony in her voice. But now she changed again.
"Perhaps I owe you some thanks, Captain Prescott," she said.
"Perhaps, but you need not give them. I trust, madam, and I do not sayit with any intent of impoliteness, that we shall never meet again."
"You speak wisely, Captain Prescott," she said.
But she raised the hood that hid her brow and gave him a glance fromdark blue eyes that a second time brought to Prescott that strangetremour at once a cause of surprise and anger. Then she opened the doorof the cottage and disappeared within.
He stood for a few moments in the street looking at the little house andthen he hurried to his home.