brave men who love ther lives even ez yo an' me loves ourn.""Trust me to do all that a devoted woman can.I will get through before daybreak or die in the attempt.But how am I to go?""Hide this paper somewhar.Aunt Debby'll fix ye up ez a country gal, while I'm gittin' yer mar saddled an' bridled with some common harness, instid o' the fancy fixin's ye hed when ye rode out heah.
Ef ye're stopt, ez ye likely will be, say that ye've been ter town fur the doctor, an' some medicine fur yer sick mammy, an' are tryin'
ter git back ter yer home on the south fork o' Overall's Creek.
Now, go an' git ready ez quick ez the Lord'll let ye."As she heard the mare's hoofs in front of the door, Rachel came out with a "slat-sun-bonnet" on her head, and a long, black calico riding-skirt over her linsey dress.Fortner gave her attire an approving nod.Aunt Debby followed her with a bottle."This is the medicine ye've bin ter git from Dr.Thacker heah in town," she said, handing the vial."Remember the name, fur fear ye mout meet some one who knows the town.Dr.Thacker, who lives a little piece offen the square, an' gives big doses of epecac fur everything, from brakebone fever ter the itch.""Dr.Thacker, who lives just off the square," said Rachel."I'll be certain to remember.""Take this, too," said Fortner, handing her a finely-finished revolver, of rather large caliber."Don't pull hit onless ye can't git along without hit, an' then make sho o' yer man.Salt him.""Good-by--God bless ye," said Aunt Debby, taking Rachel to her heart in a passionate embrace, and kissing her repeatedly."God bless ye agin.No one ever hed more need o' His blessin' then we'uns will fur the next few hours.Ef He does bless us an' our work we'll all be safe an' sound in Gineral Rosencrans' tent afore noon.But ef His will's different we'll be by thet time whar the Rebels cease from troublin', and the weary are at rest.I'm sure thet ef I thot the Rebels war gwine ter whip our men I'd never want ter see the sun rise ter-morrer.Good-by; we're all in the hands o' Him who seeth even the sparrer's fall."Fortner led the mare a little ways, to where he could get a good view, and then said:
"Thet second line o' fires which ye see over thar is our lines--them fires I mean which run up inter the woods.The fust line is the Rebels.Ye'll go right out this road heah tell ye git outside the town, an' then turn ter yer right an' make fur the Stone River.
Ford hit or swim your mar' acrost, an' make yer way thru or round the Rebel line.Ef ye find a good road, an' everything favorable ye mout try ter make yer way strait thru ef ye kin fool the gyards with yer story.Ef ye're fearful ye can't then ride beyond the lines, an' come inter ours thet-a-way Aunt Deby'll go ter the other flank, an' try ter git a-past Breckinridge's pickets, an' I'll 'tempt ter make my way thru the center.We may all or none o'
us git thru.I can't gin ye much advice, ez ye'll hev ter trust mainly ter yerself.But remember all the time what hangs upon yer gittin' the news ter Rosy afore daybreak.Think all the time thet mebbe ye kin save the hull army, mebbe win the vict'ry, sartinly save heeps o' Union lives an' fool the pizen Rebels.This is the greatest chance ye'll ever hev ter do good in all yer life, or a hundred more, ef ye could live 'em.Good-by.Ef God Almighty smiles on us we'll meet ter-morrer on yon side o' Stone River.Ef He frowns we'll meet on yon side o' the Shinin' River.Good-by."He released her hand and her horse, and she rode forward into the darkness.Her course took her first up a main street, which was crowded with wagons, ambulances and artillery.Groups of men mingled with these, and crowded upon the sidewalks.When she passed the light of a window the men stared at her, and some few presumed upon her homely garb so far as to venture upon facetious and complimentary remarks, aimed at securing a better acquaintance.
She made no reply, but hurried her mare onward, as fast as she could pick her way.She soon passed out of the limits of the town and was in the country, though she was yet in the midst of camps, and still had to thread her way through masses of men, horses and wagons moving along the road.
The first flutter of perturbation at going out into the darkness and the midst of armed men had given way to a more composed feeling.
No one had stopped her, or offered to, no one had shown any symptom of surprise at her presence there at that hour.She began to hope that this immunity would continue until she had made her way to the Union lines.she had left the thick of the crowd behind some distance, and was going along at a fair pace, over a clear road, studying all the while the line of fires far to her right, in an attempt to discover a promising dark gap in their extent.
She was startled by a hand laid upon her bridle, and a voice saying:
"Say, Sis, who mout ye be, an' whar mout ye be a-mosyin' ter this time o' night?"She saw a squad of brigandish-looking stragglers at her mare's head.
"My name's Polly Briggs.I live on the South Fork o' Overall's Creek.I've done been ter Dr.Thacker's in Murfreesboro, fur some medicine fur my sick mammy, an' I'm on my way back home, an' I'd be much obleeged ter ye, gentlemen, ef ye'd 'low me ter go on, kase mammy's powerful sick, an' she's in great hurry fur her medicine."She said this with a coolness and a perfect imitation of the speech and manner of the section that surprised herself.As she ended she looked directly at the squad, and inspected them.She saw she had reason to be alarmed.They were those prowling wolves found about all armies, to whom war meant only wider opportunities for all manner of villainy and outrage.An unprotected girl was a welcome prize to them.It was not death as a spy she had to fear, but worse.Now, if ever, she must act decisively.The leader took his hand from her bridle, as if to place it on her.
