X. — I FALL A VICTIM TO TOM’S ILL-LUCK.
Stuart had fallen back, and had reached the vicinity of Buckland.
There was a bright light in his blue eyes, a meaning smile on his mustached lip, which in due time I was going to understand.
Kilpatrick was following him. From the rear guard came the crack of skirmishers. It seemed hard to understand, but the fact was perfectly evident, that Stuart was retreating.
I had fallen out of the column, and was riding with Tom Herbert. Have you forgotten that worthy, my dear reader? Has the roar of Gettysburg driven him quite from your memory? I hope not. I have not mentioned him for a long time, so many things have diverted me—but we had ridden together, slept together, fought together, and starved together! Tom had come to be one of my best friends, in fact, and his charming good humor beguiled many a weary march. To hear him laugh was real enjoyment; and when he would suddenly burst forth with,
“Oh look at the riggings
On Billy Barlo—o—o—ow!”
the sternest faces relaxed, the sourest personages could not but laugh.
Brave and honest fop! Where are you to-day, mon garçon! I wish I could see you and hear you sing again!
But I am prosing. Riding beside Tom, I was looking down and thinking of a certain young lady, when an exclamation from my companion made me raise my head.
“By George! there’s the house, old fellow!”
“The house?”
“Of the famous supper.”
“So it is!”
“And my inamorata, Surry! I wonder if she is still there?”
“Inamorata? What is her other name?”
Tom laughed, and began to sing in his gayest voice,
“Oh, Katy! Katy!
Don’t marry any other;
You’ll break my heart, and kill me dead,
And then be hanged for murder!”
“That is answer enough,” I said, laughing.
“Suppose we go and see if they are still alive,” Tom said, blushing; “ten minutes will take us to the house.”
In fact, I saw across the fields, embowered in foliage, the hospitable mansion in which we had eaten the famous supper, on the route to Pennsylvania.
“It is risky,” I said, hesitating.
“But pleasing,” retorted Tom, with a laugh.
And I saw, from his flushed face, that he had set his heart on the visit.
That conquered me. I never could refuse Tom Herbert any thing; and we were soon cantering toward the house.
Leaving our horses in a little grove, near the mansion, in order that they might not attract the attention of any of the enemy’s vedettes, we hastened up the steps.
As we reached the door, it opened, and Miss Katy Dare, the heroine of Tom’s dreams, very nearly precipitated herself into our arms.
“Oh, I am so glad to see you!” she exclaimed, with her auburn ringlets dancing, her eyes sparkling,—and taking care to look at me as she uttered the words.
Then a whole bevy of young ladies hastened out to welcome us.
Where had we been? Why were we going back? Could General Stuart intend to leave them in the Yankee lines again? Oh, no! he could not! He could not have the heart to! Was he coming to see them? Oh, the sight of gray uniforms was HEAVENLY!!!
And the young damsels positively overwhelmed me with exclamations and interrogatories. Eyes danced, lips smiled, cheeks glowed—they hung around me, and seemed wild with enthusiasm and delight.
Around me, I say—for Tom and Miss Katy had accidentally strolled into a conservatory near at hand. A glass door gave access to it, and they had “gone to examine the flowers,” the young ladies said, with rapturous smiles and little nods.
Meanwhile, “the wants of the soldiers” were by no means forgotten. Busy hands brought in china, silver, and snowy napkins. On the table the waiter was soon deposited, containing a splendid, miraculous array of edibles, and these were flanked by decanters containing excellent home-made wine.
This consumed half an hour—but at last the repast was ready, and one of the young ladies hastened toward the conservatory, uttering a discreet little “ahem!” which made her companions laugh.
In an instant Tom made his appearance with a decided color in his cheeks; and Miss Katy—well, Miss Katy’s face was the color of a peony, or a carnation.
Shall I reveal to you, gentle reader, what Tom told me long afterward? He had advanced and been repulsed—had attacked and been “scattered.” Pardon the slang of the army, and admire the expeditious operations of the gentlemen of the cavalry!
Tom was blushing, but laughing too. He was game, if he was unfortunate. He did not even decline the material enjoyment of lunch, and having led in the young Miss Katy, with a charmingly foppish air, took his seat at the table, which promised so much pleasure of another description.
The fates frowned on us. Tom was unlucky that day, and I was drawn into the vortex of bad fortune.
Suddenly a clatter of hoofs came from the grass plat in front of the house; the rattle of sabres from a company of cavalry followed; and the young ladies had just time to thrust us into the conservatory, when the door opened, and an officer in blue uniform, accompanied by a lady, entered the apartment.