XXVIII. — BIRDS OF PREY.
Night came on. I left my horse at Mr. Alibi’s; set off on foot with Nighthawk; crossed the Rowanty, separating the opposing pickets, by a moss-covered log, in a shadowy nook, and was approaching the house in which Swartz was shut up.
Nighthawk moved with the stealthy and gliding step of a wildcat. I could see the man was a born scout; intended by nature for the calling he had adopted—secret service. He scarcely uttered a word; when he did, it was in tones so low that they were lost in the whisper of the wind, amid the great trailing vines depending from the trees, and I was compelled to lean my ear close to catch the words.
Fifty paces from the bank, a shadowy object on horseback was visible by the dim light.
“The vedette,” murmured Nighthawk, “but he need not see us.”
And plunging, or rather gliding into the shadow of the trees, he led the way without noise, to a point directly in rear of the vedette.
A hundred yards farther a fire twinkled; and around this fire were the dusky figures of men and horses. This was evidently the picket.
Three hundred paces to the left, rose a dark object, sombre and lugubrious against the night, which it exceeded in blackness. Only in the upper portion of the house, a dim light, like a star, glittered.
“Some one is yonder,” came from Nighthawk in a murmur as before, “let us go there, colonel.”
And crouching down until his body nearly reached the earth, my companion glided, snake-like, toward the house. I imitated him; we passed unobserved, and almost immediately were behind the house.
Nighthawk then rose erect, and said in a whisper:—
“I am going to reconnoitre. Remain here, colonel. If I think you can come up without danger, I will make you a signal through that window.”
With these words Nighthawk pointed to an open window about ten feet from the ground; glided past me through the broken sash of one beside which we were standing, and disappeared like a shadow.
I waited, holding my breath. From the upper portion of the house came the muffled sound of voices. I was endeavoring to distinguish the words uttered, when I saw Nighthawk appear at the upper window, and make me a sign.
That sign indicated that I might ascend with a reasonable amount of safety; and passing without noise through the window, I found myself in a bare and deserted apartment, with a single shutterless window opposite me. On the right was an open door. I passed through it, and found myself at the foot of a rough stairway, occupying half of a narrow passage.
Ascending, not without more than one creak, which, I must confess, sent a tingle through my nerves, I reached the upper landing, found myself in front of a closed door, and beside this door encountered the warning hand of Nighthawk.
“Look!” he said.
And drawing me toward him, he pointed through a crack in the board partition, which separated the passage from the apartment.