“You can’t do it,” he cried. “You ought to know that you can’t leave this place without a pass.”
“But I have one,” she said, with an engaging smile, and drew out the piece of pasteboard.
The guard looked at it dubiously, but it was in proper form and contained the necessary signature and he grudgingly permitted her to continue on her journey.
Twice again she was halted by sentinels and each time she told the same story and underwent the same experience. Once clear of the chain of sentries she whipped her horse and hurried ahead for a distance of fifteen miles. At that time the animal was in a perfect lather and when she pulled up in front of the frame house which was the dwelling place of her friends the horse was panting and trembling from the unusual exertion. She leaped from the animal’s back and going to the door rapped on it with the butt end of her riding whip. There was no reply, so she hammered harder than ever. Presently a window in the second story was cautiously opened and a head poked out and a voice called:
“Who’s there?”
“Belle Boyd, and I have important intelligence to give to Colonel Ashby.”
“My dear Belle!” shrieked the voice from the window. “Where in the world did you come from and how did you get here?”
“Oh, I forced the sentries,” was the reply, in a matter of fact voice.
Within sixty seconds the girl was in the house and receiving refreshments and telling her strange story to her wondering friend. The horse in the meantime was taken to the stable by a negro and carefully groomed and fed. Only after these important details had been attended to was the girl permitted to tell her story.
“I must see Colonel Ashby,” she said in conclusion, “and if you can tell me where to find him I will go at once.”