There was unfortunately no red ink with which I could further add to its apparent official character. Looking about the room in the hope of finding some, my eyes rested on the bandage on my still bleeding arm. In another moment the pen was cleaned of all the black ink stains. I gently dipped it into my own bandaged wound and drew enough blood on the pen to write across the face of the pass, in back-hand writing (to distinguish it from the other) the almost cabalistic words in those days: Approved, and signed it in red with my blood.
The red ink "took beautifully."
At the next visit of my host I took great pleasure in exhibiting to him my "papers." He glanced at it approvingly, and no doubt the red ink indorsement was sufficient. Not deigning to examine farther, he said: "I don't want to question the character of a gentleman in my own house, sir, especially the word of a soldier, by Gad, sir"—he laid it aside, as of no consequence. I had told the same old story of the refugee so often, had the character down so fine, that I almost believed it myself. Of course, there were variations to suit the different circumstances, but it was nearly always a Maryland boy far away from home. I could not possibly disguise my voice and dialect sufficiently to pass in the South for a Southerner. I had been living in the South long enough to have learned the peculiarity of its people, and knew very well that I could not overcome the difficulty. So it was necessary, even at great risk to myself sometimes, to continue to play the dual character of a Maryland refugee and an English boy from Texas. There were a great many young people constantly coming over the line from Maryland into the South, and most of these, after a few days "outing," corresponded very well with my appearance or condition in this, that they were "busted," having sacrificed all but their lives for the cause, and were now hankering for a chance to offer that on the Southern altar. This immigration helped to further my projects.
I had told my kind host and hostess a tearful story of my sufferings; how my coat, and all the money that was in the pockets had been stolen while I was sick, and that I was now going to Richmond to replenish my wardrobe, just as soon as I could meet some friends, or hear from my home. This had the desired effect. Of course, I did not beg, neither did my kind friends see it in that light; but, all the same, when the good people attended their country church that Sunday they somehow interested the whole congregation, and a collection was lifted in a Virginia church for the benefit of a Yankee Spy. When they returned from church they brought with them several neighbors to dinner, and soon after I was waited upon by the old gentleman and his pastor, who, in the most considerate manner possible, presented me with an envelope, which he said: "Would be of service in making me comfortable until I met with friends."
Now the Good Spirit of my Sainted Mother in heaven, who had so often taken care of her wondering boy, certainly sent that earthly angel to me again, while I was alone in the midst of enemies on the Sunday. There was nothing that I so much needed as money, as, with it, I could hope to find means of escaping by some other route back to my home, and I would stay there, too. I was hardly allowed to thank the kind friends. After some further pleasant talk, which they indulged in to make me feel easy, I accepted their offer to the Rebel cause with the understanding that I should be able some day to repay it.
"Oh, no; some of our lady friends were anxious for an opportunity to show their devotion to the cause, and were pleased to be able to aid, above all things, a worthy refugee who is so far from home and sick."
Under the circumstances, what else could I do but take this advantage of the good people? With me it was a question of life and death; but I resolved in my heart, that if the time should ever come when our army entered that country, I should be on hand to plead for the protection of those who had unknowingly befriended a foe.
I began preparations to get away as soon as possible, by telling my kind people that it was necessary that I should "report" at once to certain officers in Richmond. I secured their consent to leave their care before I was able to travel.
It was agreed that I should be allowed to depart at once for Richmond, and, with as much feeling as if I were an only son being torn away from home to go to the war, I bade them all a hearty, thankful good-by, and walked slowly to the railroad station, which was some distance off, to get an evening train from Fredericksburg to Richmond.
The train came along in due time, and I got aboard with difficulty, because I was quite stiff and weak. Taking the first seat, in the rear of the car, I noticed at once, while being waited upon by the conductor, that there were in the forward part of the same car several officers in the Confederate gray uniform. This wasn't very reassuring, and rather unsettled my nerves, because, you see, I had, from my past few days' experience, imbibed a holy terror of anything in gray clothes. It was a Sunday, and, as they were probably off on a leave, they were engaged in their own pleasures and were not likely to disturb me. The conductor informed me, when I offered to pay my fare to Richmond, that he was required to report all soldiers traveling to a certain guard, and asked my name and regiment.