"Really I cannot tell," not altogether displeased at my decision, "yet it would border upon a miracle, for I do not even know myself. Besides I doubt your having the opportunity for sufficient study--that is Jonesboro yonder."
The road rounded the crest of a sharp hill, and, from off the summit, we could look directly down into the river valley. Except for little groves of scrub oak it was open country, the broad stream showing clearly between green banks, with few cultivated fields in sight. We had turned toward the north, and the straggling town lay directly in front two miles away, so hidden behind trees the houses were scarcely distinguishable; a quarter of a mile below was the bridge. I stood up, thrusting my head beyond the carriage cover, so as to see better. To the west the woods concealed everything. It was somewhere in that direction Beauregard's troops were encamped, yet, even if they were already advancing to unite with Johnston, they would hardly cross the country so far to the north. Knowing the situation as I did I felt little fear of any encounter with Confederates. Our cavalry were patrolling all the roads across the river, and, as late as the previous day, were guarding the Jonesboro bridge. I could see no signs of any such guard now, however, yet the trees were thick and obscured the view, and that heavy dust cloud to the right was probably caused by the passing of a troop of horse. Convinced that this would prove to be either a cavalry vidette, or a Federal foraging party, it made me more anxious to get quickly down into the town, hopeful they might have a spare horse with them, and I pointed out the dust spirals to my companion.
"If you have friends in Jonesboro," I said, "I've also got some coming."
"Who are they?" her eyes on the distant dust. "Yankees?"
"Certainly; there are none of your people on that side of the river. Beauregard is out yonder in those hills. Let's drive on, the town looks quiet."
She leaned forward, holding to the edge of the carriage cover to keep her balance, her glance turning toward the southwest.
"If those are your people they mustn't see me," she said quietly, a little accent of pleading in her voice. "You promise that first?"
"Of course," although surprised at her asking. "I know it is our orders to intercept everything which can aid the enemy, but I don't feel inclined to prevent your taking quinine to the poor fellows in the hospital. War hasn't made me as inhuman as that. We can easily reach the town ahead of that squad of cavalry, and if you have some safe place there to go, and will only keep indoors, there is no danger of discovery."
"I have," eagerly, "Judge Moran's house; you can see its gable there among the trees. He is so old he has not even been conscripted." She laughed, flashing a look aside at me as she shook the reins and applied the whip. "I wonder what he will think when he sees me driving up alongside a Yankee. It will be like the end of the world. No, don't talk to me any more; I've got to conjure up a nice, respectable story to tell him."
She remained very quiet as we rattled down the hill, her forehead puckered, her gaze straight ahead. Suddenly she asked,