“Charlie shall decide whether we hang, drown, whip, or tar and feather the prisoner at the bar.”
Then, with far more energy and fire than had characterized his vindication of the South, Charlie De Vere pleaded for the criminal, that they would let him go. “Just this once, for father’s sake, and mine, and Maude’s,” he said; and, at the mention of Maude, the dark brows began to clear, and the scowling faces grew more lenient in their expression, for Maude De Vere was worshiped by the rough men of the mountains, who, though they knew her sympathies were on the Union side, made an exception in her favor, and held her person and opinions sacred. For her sake, they would let their captive go, giving him warning to leave the neighborhood at once, nor let himself be seen again in their midst while the war lasted.
And thus it chanced that Will Mather had a companion in his wanderings, which were renewed the following day; the boy Charlie acting as guide through the most dangerous part of the way, and at last bidding him good-bye, with great tears in his eyes, as he said:
“I hope you won’t be caught; but I don’t know, the woods are full of our soldiers. Travel at night, and hide through the day. Trust no one, but the negroes; and if you are captured, ask for mercy in sister’s name. Everybody knows Maude De Vere.”
CHAPTER XXVIII
THE DEAD ALIVE.
It was the night of the third of July, the anniversary, as she supposed, of her husband’s death, and Rose was sitting up unusually late. She could not sleep for thinking of one year ago, and the white-faced man who lay upon the battle-field with the rain falling upon him.
It was a clear starlight night, and she leaned many times from her open window and looked up at the kindly eyes keeping watch above her. But she did not see the figure coming down the street and up the walk to their own door; the figure of a worn-out soldier, who from the prison at Salisbury had escaped to Tennessee, and had come from thence straight on until the midnight train dropped him at the Rockland station.
The light was behind her, and Will saw her distinctly as he went up the avenue, and he stopped a moment to look at her. She was very pale, and much thinner than when he saw her last, but never, even on her bridal day, had she seemed so beautiful to him as then, when leaning from her window, and apparently listening for something.
It was the sound of his footsteps as he came up the walk which had attracted her attention, and when it ceased so suddenly as he stopped under the trees, she felt a momentary pang of fear, for burglars had been very common in the town that summer. Possibly this was one of the robbers, and Rose was thinking of alarming the house, when the figure emerged from under the shadow of the trees, and came directly up beneath the window, while a voice which made Rose’s blood curdle in her veins, called softly,