The orchestra of spring, as Angela had called it, was now playing gloriously, and it seemed to her as if the ice-bound winter were but a dream with all the beautiful unreality of a dream. She resolved to put Isabey out of her mind, but who ever yet put the thing beloved out of mind? All she could do whenever she thought of Isabey was to call up a passionate loyalty to Neville Tremaine and to make herself the most solemn of promises that never should any woman exceed her in the kindness, tenderness, devotion, consideration that she would give Neville Tremaine, not having the greater gift to bestow upon him.
Isabey in a camp of five thousand men found plenty for a man to do who had not full use of his right arm and leg.
His sanguine expectation of being able to join his battery in the field was not borne out. In riding he wrenched his arm painfully, which revived the whole trouble, and the doctors gave him no hope that his arm would sufficiently recover for him to rejoin his battery before the late autumn or early winter.
Meanwhile the ugly suspicion against Angela, of which Mrs. Charteris had told him, came back in a hundred ways. It was undoubtedly true that information concerning the Confederates was mysteriously conveyed to the Federal commanders.
The charge that Angela Tremaine had supplied this information was hinted at rather than spoken before Isabey. Once only had it been said outright—at the officers’ mess by a raw young lieutenant ignorant of most things. Isabey had turned upon him meaning to contradict the story in a manner as cool as it was convincing. But suddenly an impulse of rage seized him and before he knew it he had dashed a glass of water in the face of the offender.
At once there was a fierce uproar, and Isabey ended the brief but painful scene by rising and saying with some agitation:
“I have no apology to make for resenting a shocking charge against an innocent and defenseless woman. I believe it has never yet been known that any man in Virginia was ever called to account for defending the name and fame of a woman.”
With that Isabey left the mess tent. The ranking officer at once administered a stern rebuke to the young lieutenant and forbade that he should demand the satisfaction, common enough in those days, from Isabey for his act. Nevertheless, when the matter had been arranged, the officers exchanged significant glances which said: “It won’t do to speak of it, but—” and that “but” meant that it was believed Angela Tremaine was playing the spy. Isabey felt this and his soul was wrung by it.
With only thirty-five miles between the two great opposing forces, each side began to throw out feelers before the actual shock of arms commenced. The Federals made raids and reconnoissances through the country at unexpected times.
Incidentally, the farmsteads and estates were swept clear of horses, mules, cattle, and sheep, and the houses were searched for Confederate soldiers. This last was done rather in the nature of a warning than in expectation of making any captures. Occasionally private soldiers, who had got leave on various pretexts and slipped home for a few hours, were picked up by the Federals; but the Confederates were wary and no important captures were made. Small Federal gunboats ventured up the broad, salt, shallow rivers which made in from the seas and intersected the low-lying, fertile country. But these expeditions, like those by land, were rather for investigation and warning than of a punitive nature. It might be supposed that these raids by land and water were alarming to the women and children left alone in their homes while their husbands, sons, and brothers were in the Confederate army. On the contrary, the Virginia ladies appear to have struck terror to the hearts of the Northern officers, who, however bold their stand might be against the Confederate soldiers, were pretty sure to beat a quick retreat before the sharp language and indignant glances of the Virginia ladies.