Название: Raiding with Morgan
Автор: Dunn Byron Archibald
Издательство: Public Domain
Жанр: Зарубежная классика
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He was received with open arms. “So you are from John Morgan,” said Mr. Ormsby, “and wish to recruit for his command. You have come at an opportune time. To-morrow there is a secret meeting of prominent Confederates near Harrodsburg. I am to attend. You will meet a number there for whom you have letters. Of course you will go with me?”
Tired as he was, Calhoun rode that night with Mr. Ormsby to be present at the meeting. If he was to meet Morgan at Glasgow during the first days of May, his time was short, very short, and what he should do had to be done quickly.
When he was introduced to those present as from Morgan, and just from Corinth, their enthusiasm knew no bounds. He had to tell the story of Shiloh, of the tragic death of Governor Johnson, of the retreat, but how the spirit of the Southern army was unbroken, and that the South would not, and could not, be conquered.
To his delight, Calhoun found that two companies of cavalry were nearly ready to take the field, and it was unanimously agreed that they should cast their fortune with Morgan.
“I believe that Morgan with a thousand men can ride clear to the Ohio River,” declared Calhoun. “It only remains for Kentuckians to rally to his standard, and give him the support that he desires.”
It was agreed that the companies should be filled as soon as possible, and should go whenever Calhoun said the word.
Calhoun returned with Mr. Ormsby, as he wished to enter Danville to visit his parents. Disguised as a country boy with produce to sell, he had no trouble in passing the pickets into town. With a basket of eggs on his arm, he knocked at the back door of his father’s residence. It was opened by Chloe, the cook.
“Want eny good fresh eggs?” asked Calhoun.
“No; go way wid ye, yo’ po’ white trash,” snapped the old negro woman, as she attempted to shut the door in his face.
“Chloe!”
The dish which she held in her hand went clattering to the floor. “Fo’ de land’s sake!” she cried, “if it isn’t Massa Calhoun. De Lawd bress yo’, chile! De Lawd bress you!” And she seized him and fairly dragged him into the house.
“Hush, Chloe, not so loud. Don’t tell father I am here yet. And, Chloe, don’t whisper I am here to a soul. If the Yankees found out I was here, they might hang me.”
“Oh, Lawd! Oh, Lawd! hang youn’ Massa?” she cried. “Ole Chloe tell no one.”
“That’s right, Aunt Chloe. Now bake those biscuits I see you are making, in a hurry. And make my favorite pie. I want to eat one more meal of your cooking. No one can cook like Aunt Chloe.”
“Yo’ shell hev a meal fit fo’ de king!” cried the old negress, her face all aglow.
“You must hurry, Chloe, for I can’t stay long. Now I will go and surprise father.” And surprise him he did. The old Judge could hardly believe the seeming country boy was his son.
“Where in the world did you come from?” he asked.
“From Corinth,” answered Calhoun. “I am now back to recruit for Morgan.”
“So you have joined Morgan, have you?”
“Yes. Now that Governor Johnson is killed, I know of no service I would like as well as to ride with Morgan.”
“You could have come home, my son.”
“Father! what do you mean? Come home while the South is bleeding at every pore? Come home like a craven while the contest is yet undecided?”
“I am wrong, my son; but it is so hard for you, my only child, to be in the army. Oh! that dreadful battle of Shiloh! The agony, the sleepless nights it has caused me! Thank God you are yet safe.”
“Yes, father, and I trust that the hand of a kind Providence will still protect me. But here is a letter from Morgan.”
The Judge adjusted his spectacles, and read the letter with much interest. “My son,” he said, after he had finished it, “it is well you were not captured with such letters on your person. It might have cost you your life. Even now I tremble for your safety. Does any one know you are in Danville?”
“Only Aunt Chloe, and she is as true as steel.”
“Yet there is danger. I know the house is under the closest surveillance. The Federal authorities know I am an ardent friend of the South, and they watch me continually. Morgan says in his letter that he hopes it will not be long before he will be in Kentucky.”
“And mark my word,” cried Calhoun, “it will not be! Before many weeks the name of Morgan will be on every tongue. He will be the scourge of the Yankee army. But, father, what of Uncle Dick and Fred?”
“Colonel Shackelford is at home minus a leg. The Federal authorities have paroled him. Fred is at home nursing him. Your uncle won imperishable honors on the field of Shiloh. What a pity he has such a son as Fred!”
Calhoun’s face clouded. The remembrance of his last meeting with Fred still rankled in his breast. “I never want to see him again,” he said.
The Judge sighed, “Oh, this war! this war!” he exclaimed; “how it disrupts families! You and Fred used to be the same as brothers. I thought nothing could come in between you and him. Calhoun, he is a noble boy, notwithstanding he is a traitor to his state and the South. They say he is going to resign from the army for the sake of his father. Won’t you go and see him?”
“No,” brusquely answered Calhoun, yet he felt in his heart he was wronging his cousin by his action.
Dinner was now announced by Aunt Chloe, and it did her honest old heart good to see the way that Calhoun ate.
“I jes’ believe dat air chile hab had nuthin’ to eat fo’ a week,” she declared.
“I reckon I shall have to go now,” said Calhoun, rising reluctantly from the table. “I have already made too long a visit for a country boy with eggs to sell. I declare, Aunt Chloe, I do believe I should kill myself eating if I stayed any longer.”
“No danger of dat, chile,” replied Aunt Chloe, grinning.
The words of parting were few. “Do be careful, my son,” said Judge Pennington, his voice trembling with emotion. “God only knows whether I shall ever see you again or not.”
As Calhoun started to leave, a pair of sharp eyes was watching him. Those eyes belonged to a pretty girl named Jennie Freeman. The Freemans were Judge Pennington’s nearest neighbors, but Mr. Freeman was as strong a Union man as the Judge was a Secessionist. Once the best of friends, a coldness had sprung up between them since the opening of the war.
Jennie was two years older than Calhoun, but they had been playmates from babyhood, and were great friends. Jennie called him her knight-errant. More than once he had carried a pair of black eyes in fighting her battles when some of the larger boys had teased her.
Jennie had seen the supposed country boy enter the kitchen of Judge Pennington, and there was something in his walk and manner which attracted her attention. СКАЧАТЬ