Snipe, listening in silence, hoped, despite the brave resolution of the earlier evening, that nothing would happen to change the lieutenant's mind. It wasn't the riding back with him that he dreaded to think of, it was the solitary trot to rejoin the major after seeing Upton safely to the lines. There on the distant heights the lights around Centreville were twinkling, and, even while the officers were consulting a moment before, the lad noted that while they could no longer see the gleam on the high ground south of the Run, the men were again whispering together about that signal to the north of them.
Then the staff-officer held out his hand. "Good-night, Major Stark. I shall take pleasure in telling the general how prompt and soldierly your command has been. After all the go-as-you-please business I have had to note on the march it is good to see a regiment behave like regulars. Good-night to you, too, my lad. If I ever get a regiment I'd like to have a hundred young fellows of your calibre," said he, and to Snipe's surprise and delight Lieutenant Upton was grasping his hand too.
But just as the young officer turned away a thought occurred to him. "The general will be anxiously awaiting my report, and I must hurry. If it weren't for that I'd find out what's going on where that light is up yonder. Good-night again. Look for us along about two o'clock."
The muffled sound of the hoof-beats died away across the open field. The men close at hand unrolled their blankets and stretched themselves upon the turf. No fires were allowed, but many a pipe was lighted well within the shelter of the trees, and, too excited to sleep, they lay chatting in low tones. Several of the officers grouping about had heard the young regular's closing words. "That light can't be more'n a mile off," said Captain Flint. "I would like to know what's going on there myself."
The major had dismounted, and by the gleam of a little folding lantern was jotting down some memoranda at the moment in the note-book he always carried. Method was second nature to Stark. Not until he had finished his writing did he reply. Then, even while glancing over his lines, he quietly said,—
"You shall. Bring twenty men and come along."
Quarter of an hour later, with the senior captain left in command at the bridge, Major Stark, Lawton as ever riding close behind him, was leading slowly and cautiously out of the shadows and across an open field that sloped gradually toward a low ridge against the northern sky. Behind them, treading softly, came Flint, a lieutenant, and twenty men. The latter had fixed bayonets and discarded anything about their equipment that would rattle. The north star gleamed right over what seemed to be a little grove along the ridge, and on the edge of the dark patch stood, against the sky, regular and square in outline, an object like a house. Not five minutes back a light was shining in the midst of it, but now that was gone. Slowly, cautiously, the little party continued its silent move, rising gradually with every rod, and at last the leader came to another snake-fence, and three or four stout fellows sprang forward and threw down a panel or two. While this was being done the major looked back, and there, shining over the low ground from the distant heights beyond Bull Run, that clear, steady light was gleaming again, powerful, almost, as the head-light of a locomotive. Away to the southeast, grouped about Centreville, the camp-fires of the Union troops were blazing, and from along this ridge their position was plainly visible. No wonder Virginia sympathizers chose the spot from which to signal! Now what message might they not be sending two hours later when the army began to move? It was after ten o'clock, and that house had been dark for over ten minutes, yet Stark felt confident their stealthy approach was unsuspected. Then comes the stifled cry, "Ha! there it is again!—the light in the upper window, well under the eaves!" Snipe's heart bounds almost into his throat in his excitement, for now it is barely long pistol-shot away, and he is the proud possessor of a new Colt's revolver, much handier, he thinks, than the long, cumbrous musket. And now it's out again; and now, five seconds later, shines anew, and so it goes,—darkness alternating with light three times, then all is black and unbroken. A sergeant is somewhere ahead looking for the next fence. The little party scrambles on up the steeper slope. If only there are no dogs about! Hear them baying over there toward Centreville? and over there yonder to the west toward Sudley Church? Surely if there are dogs here they would be out and baying their reply. Bigger and blacker looms the house ahead, and still no challenge from dog or man. Can it be that the farm folk have deserted it, and that only lurking scouts or spies are here?
And now they come upon a dilapidated picket-fence; beyond it a row of bushes. The sergeant in advance turns back and tells the major there's a wide open gateway at the east, and into this he cautiously rides, Snipe still following. But, oh, how the boy heart is thumping! The roadway is soft Virginia earth, and the hoofs strike no pebbles. Presently the major dismounts, and, handing his reins up to Snipe, bids him wait there in a little open space. Then, noiselessly, he and Flint lead on with the men, and Snipe feels, rather than sees, that they are surrounding the house and stationing soldiers at every door and under every window. All these now are dark save two on the lower floor in front. There are thick shades within, but they show a dull light, as from a table-lamp. Not a sound beyond a creaking of a shoe or plank is heard. The men move like kittens, but it is their first experience of the kind, and most of them are excited, even nervous. As for Snipe, he rages to see how he is trembling.
And then all of a sudden the major's horse, rejoicing that the weight is gone, gives himself a thorough shake, rattling housing and stirrups and accompanying the shake with a loud b'r-r-r-r of satisfaction. All too late Snipe springs from saddle and seizes both horses by the nostrils. Almost instantly booted heels are heard within, and manly, ringing voices. Somebody comes striding to the door and throws it open. A tall, slender, shapely fellow is outlined against the dim light within, and a voice hails cordially,—
"Hullo! What brings you back? Anything the matter over yawnduh?" And that "yawnduh" betrays the Virginian.