Laura Lee Hope - "The Story of a Lamb on Wheels"

Francis Parkman, Jr. - "Pioneers Of France In The New World"

James Joyce - "A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man"

Susanna Moodie - "Roughing it in the Bush"

New Philadelphia Book Publisher Highlights Local Talent
Book and Publishing News from Publishers Newswire(tm)

Looking for Child to be on Cover of a New Book, 'The Model Child'
PHILADELPHIA, Pa. -- The Philadelphia literary world will celebrate the launch of two new players today, April 10th: Kay Square Press, a new publishing company focused on Philadelphia-area artists, their stories, and their art; and Kay Square's first release, 'With the Rich and Mighty: Emlen Etting of Philadelphia' (ISBN: 978-0-9815129-0-7), a critical biography by Kenneth C. Kaleta.

FlatSigned Press Alleges Don Imus Remarks Damage Legacy of President Gerald R. Ford
NEW YORK, N.Y. -- Nathan Yungerberg, an accomplished model scout and professional child photographer is launching a nation-wide casting call to find the cover model for his highly anticipated book release, 'The Model Child: A Parents Guide to the Child Modeling Industry' (ISBN: 978-0-9817018-0-6).

Books: My Lady of the North

R >> Randall Parrish >> My Lady of the North




While constantly observant of those points regarding which I had been
despatched, my one overmastering thought during all those hours was the
possibility of again meeting with Edith Brennan and proving of some
assistance to her. Her greeting of me in the Federal hospital had been
so sweetly gracious, so marked with tender sympathy, while the memory
of her words, and even more of the look which accompanied them, had so
remained with me in encouragement that I longed to encounter her again.
God knows what I hoped for, for I knew well it must all inevitably end
in despair, yet like the moth I must continue to singe my wings until
the flame devoured me. Now, however, as we actually drew near to where
I supposed she might be, I felt my earlier courage fast deserting me.
Nor was I furnished with even the slightest excuse for pressing on; my
orders did not positively compel me to proceed, and nothing appeared
along the way to lead me to suppose that harm of any kind threatened
that peaceful valley. Everything meeting my eyes evidenced that here,
at least, war with its attendant horrors had not come. Totally without
the beaten track of those great armies which had battled so fiercely
for the Shenandoah, it had been traversed only by a few scouting and
foraging parties, and so short had been their stay that even the rail
fences remained undisturbed to guard the fields, and nowhere did I note
outward signs of devastation. It was Virginia as I recalled it in those
old days of peace and plenty, before civil strife had sown the land
with dead.

What possible excuse, then, had I for going there? In my own heart I
knew I had none, or one so poor and selfish I scarcely durst whisper it
even to myself; yet I rode steadily on. Impelled by my own weakness, or
drawn irresistibly by fate,--whichever the real cause I know not,--I
would at least look upon those walls that had once sheltered her, would
learn if possible if she was yet there. Then--well, in the bondage of
my passion I hoped for what might happen, as every lover does.

It must have been two o'clock; we had baited our horses, I remember, an
hour previous; and the Sergeant had enjoyed his noonday siesta beneath
the shade of a great bush bearing purple blossoms. The road we had been
travelling since early morning wound in and out among great trees, and
crossed and recrossed the little stream called the Cowskin until I
almost thought we had lost our way. We met with no one in all the long
day's riding, not even a stray negro, and indeed it was some hours
since we had passed a house of any kind. Leaving the brook behind us we
toiled slowly up a long hill, and at the top Bungay, riding beside me,
pointed to the westward.

"Cap," he said, "thar is ther Minor place."

The very sight of it in the distance was a thrill--a great white house
placed well back from the road and almost hidden from sight by fine,
large trees; an old-fashioned, big-roomed house it looked to be, built
after the colonial type, a wide veranda upon three sides, with fluted
columns to support the overhanging roof.

"Hain't no signs es fer es I kin see of any trouble havin' 'curred
thar," Jed said slowly, his shrewd gray eyes roaming over the peaceful
scene. "Somebody ter hum tew, fer ther chimley is a smokin'."

Of course, now I was there, the only sensible thing for me to do would
have been to ride openly to the front door, and thus learn all I
desired. But what man who loves, who is continually swayed by hopes and
fears, by strength and weakness, ever does the sensible thing? I had
certainly intended doing so at the start, but now my nerve failed me.
She was the wife of another. I could not confess I had ventured to come
to her in love, nor could I look into those clear, honest, questioning
eyes and lie.

"Halt!" I ordered. "Sergeant!"

"I am here, Captain."

"Take your men down into that hollow yonder, and remain there until I
return. Better post a sentry on the hill here."

"It vill be done, Captain."

"I shall not, probably, be absent more than an hour, so don't permit
the men to stray."

"Dot is it, Captain. I vill be mit dem all over."

I rode down alone into the thick woods at the foot of the hill, and
dismounting, tied my horse to a sapling. Then on foot I struck across
the fields, my intention being to come in by way of the negro quarters
at the rear, in hope of meeting some one from whom I might inquire
relative to the great house and its inmates.

It was a slight upward trend of land I had to traverse, and although
the house was a most sightly object and stood upon the very summit of
the elevation, yet so surrounded was it with trees, both fruit and
ornamental, I was enabled to make but little of its situation until I
approached the out-buildings. I met with no one, nor could I perceive
any negroes about the slave quarters. Yet the place did not bear the
appearance of desertion. There were horses in the stable, a cat was
curled up on one of the cabin doorsteps, and smoke continued to pour in
a dull yellow cloud from the kitchen chimney. Altogether there was much
in the situation to puzzle over, and I no longer regretted that I had
exercised some caution in my approach.

The orchard, with the remains of a garden, lay between the house and
the stable, protected by a low fence of whitened pickets. So far as I
could observe, it contained no occupant, and I pushed open the gate and
started down a narrow cinder-path which led between two rows of low
bushes. To right of me was an extensive grape-arbor completely covered
with vines, the fresh green leaves forming a delightful contrast to the
deep blue sky beyond. As I came opposite an opening leading into this
arbor I suddenly caught the flutter of drapery and stopped instantly,
my heart throbbing like a frightened girl's. It was quite dark beneath
the vine shadow, and I could make out no more than that a woman stood
there; her back toward me, busied at some task. Possibly she felt my
presence, for all at once she glanced around, and upon perceiving me
gave vent to a quick exclamation of terror.

"Pardon me," I said hastily, and removing my hat, "but you have nothing
to fear."

There was a moment's hesitancy on her part, and I knew I was being
scrutinized by a pair of bright eyes.

"Surely," said a familiar voice, "I cannot be mistaken--you are Captain
Wayne."

Before I could even answer she stepped forth from her partial
concealment and advanced toward me with cordially extended hands. It
was Celia Minor.

"Well, of all men!" she cried gayly, her dark eyes smiling a most
kindly welcome. "And Edith and I were speaking about you only
yesterday. That is, I was, for really I do not recall now that Edith
made any remark apropos of the subject. You have no idea, Captain
Wayne, what a hero I have made you out to be. It would make you
positively vain if I should confess; why, Arthur has actually become so
jealous that he has almost forbidden me even to mention your name in
his presence. So when I want to talk about you I am compelled to go to
Edith. She hasn't power to stop me, you know, but I'm sure I must bore
her awfully. And then to think that when you stood there just now, and
I saw your gray uniform, I actually thought the guerillas had come. My
heart beats so now I can hardly talk. But how pale and haggard you
look--is it that horrible wound which troubles you still?"

"I have been discharged from the hospital only a short time," I
answered, as she paused to take breath. "Indeed, this is my first
military service for several months, yet I am feeling quite strong
again. Mrs. Brennan, then, is still with you?"

"Oh, yes; we have been here all winter long. It has been so dull, for
really nothing has happened, and the valley is quite devoid of
inhabitants--even the negroes have gone hunting freedom. But Major
Brennan and Arthur are to be here this afternoon, and sometime to-night
we are all of us going away together. How glad I am you arrived before
we left! I wouldn't have missed meeting you for worlds. Do you know, it
is so hard for me not to call you Colonel Curran, but Edith always
insists on my saying Captain Wayne, so that it comes more natural now.
Really, sometimes I actually believe she has corrected me a dozen times
a day, for you know we have so little to talk about here that we are
always drifting back to what occurred to us while we were with the
army. I often wonder Edith can be contented here at all, but she really
seems to regret that we must leave. I'm sure I don't, even if I was
born here; it's an awful poky old place."

I gave heed to but little of her good-humored chatter after the first
sentence. Eager as I was to meet Brennan, I had no desire that we
should meet in the presence of his wife. Better, far better, would it
be for me to leave at once and without even seeing her.

"You say you are about to depart?" I asked, determined to learn all
possible regarding their plans. "Do you go North?"

"Yes, to Baltimore and Washington. The guerillas are becoming so
desperate in this neighborhood that we are actually afraid to remain
here longer. They attacked the Cuyler plantation, only ten miles from
here, two weeks ago, killed old Mr, Cuyler, turned his wife out
partially dressed in the middle of the night, looted the house of
everything it contained of value, and then set it on fire. You see we
have no men folks here, except two negroes, who have clung to us
because they were so aged they were afraid to leave--just mamma, Edith,
my old nurse, and myself. It seems so lonely, and Major Brennan and
Arthur both insist it is no longer safe. So they are coming with a
cavalry escort to take us all North. I am sure we shall have a splendid
time."

"You have experienced no trouble, then, thus far?"

"Oh, none at all--we have not even been bothered by scouting parties.
Oh, I do not mean you; you are no bother. But yesterday there was a
horrible man here; he came to the kitchen door, and asked all sorts of
impudent questions. Mrs. Bungay actually had to threaten him with a gun
before he would leave."

"Is Maria Bungay here, then?"

"Why, certainly; do you know her? Isn't she a delightful old dear,--
just as good as a man?"

"Her husband is with my party."

"Jed--really? Why, do you know, Maria has got it into her head that he
had run away from her. I should so love to witness their meeting; it
would be most interesting. But you must come into the house, Captain
Wayne; Edith will be overjoyed to see you again, although you know she
is never demonstrative, as I am. It must be awfully nice to be always
cool and calm, don't you think?"

Determined that I would not be tempted, I yet hesitated, and my
vivacious companion took everything for granted at once.

"Oh, before we go in, won't you do me a favor?" she asked. "But of
course you will. I was trying to tie this grapevine into place when you
surprised me, but I could not hold on with one hand and tie with the
other. See what I mean?" And placing one slender foot upon a slat of
the trellis she lifted herself up until she could barely reach the
refractory branch. "Now," she said, smiling down upon me, "please just
hold me here for a moment until I secure this end."

My hand was scarcely upon her in support when the slender slat snapped
beneath her weight. As she fell I caught her with both arms. For a
moment she lay, panting and startled, on my breast; then, as with a
little laugh she disengaged herself from my embrace, we stood there
hand in hand and face to face with Edith Brennan.

Shall I ever forget the look within her eyes? How plainly I saw it,
although she stood half hidden beneath the shadow of the vines.
Amazement, incredulity, scorn were expressed there, yet even as I
marked them all became merged into proud unconsciousness. She would
have turned away without a word, but my companion stopped her.

"Edith," she cried eagerly, "do you not see? This is Captain Wayne."

She turned toward me and slightly inclined her head.

"I recognized Captain Wayne," was her calm answer, "and regret greatly
having intruded upon him. It was entirely unintentional, and I have no
desire to remain."

I could not have spoken at that moment to save my life. It fairly
stunned me to realize the construction she so plainly placed upon the
scene just enacted. Not so the girl at my side. Her cheeks flushed with
indignation, and her audacity gave her speech which made matters even
worse than before.

"You are exceedingly free with your criticisms, Edith," she exclaimed
sharply, as the latter turned her back upon us. "Perhaps it would be as
well for you first to ascertain the truth."

"You wholly mistake," was the calm reply. "I have not presumed to
criticise. Why should I? It is not a matter which interests me in the
least. I presume you have no further objection to my returning to the
house?"

She did not so much as deign to look again at either of us, but as she
moved slowly out of sight Miss Minor turned and looked into my face
with questioning eyes. What she may have read there I know not, but she
sank back upon a bench and burst into a merry peal of laughter.

"Isn't it perfectly ridiculous!" she cried, as soon as she was able to
speak. "Only I do hope she won't tell Arthur."




CHAPTER XXVIII

WE CAPTURE A COURIER


THE girl's light burst of laughter aroused me thoroughly to a sense of
our situation. "You seem to derive much amusement from a condition of
affairs almost intolerable to me," I said bitterly. "I have always
valued most highly the friendship of Mrs. Brennan, but this unfortunate
occurrence will doubtless end it."

She glanced up at me, her long lashes wet, but her dark eyes sparkling
with mischief.

"Oh, she won't care so far as you are concerned," she exclaimed
indifferently. "But I suppose she will think I am perfectly horrid.
Well, I don't care if she does; she might have waited and learned the
truth first. Wasn't her face a study? And how shall I ever explain to
Arthur so that he will understand? I'm sure I have got the worst of it.
Oh, Captain Wayne, is my hair all ruffled up? I know I look like a
fright. You must come in now, and we will explain to Mrs. Brennan the
whole matter. She cannot help believing us both, while I know she would
be so cold and proud with me alone."

I shook my head decisively. Perhaps it was better ended so; at least I
possessed no courage just then to face her indignation. She might but
deem we had concocted our explanation, and would very likely receive it
with all the scorn she felt it deserved. Besides, it was clear there
was nothing I could do to aid them. I should be now merely an unwelcome
intruder. An escort was to be there shortly to convoy them northward,
and for me to be found in their company by Brennan would only inflame
him and add greatly to the embarrassment of his wife's position. Much
as I might long for immediate vindication in her sight, the plain duty
of true love was to depart at once, and permit time to straighten out
the tangle.

"You must pardon me," I hastened to say, standing hat in hand before
her, "but it would not be best for me to intrude upon Mrs. Brennan
after her late reception. I merely halted here in order to assure
myself of your presence and safety. My men are even now waiting for me
a few hundred yards away."

"But I wish you to meet Arthur."

"Oh, I think not, Miss Minor. I feel warm friendship for Lieutenant
Caton, but we wear different uniforms, serve under different flags, and
a meeting here, both with armed forces behind us, would naturally have
to be a hostile one. However the Lieutenant and I might consent to a
temporary truce, his superior officer, Major Brennan, would not likely
prove of the same mind."

"Then you really must go?"

"Unless you specially desire to witness a cavalry skirmish in your
front dooryard, I certainly consider it best," and I held out my hand.
"Surely we part as friends, and I may hope that you will intercede in
my behalf with Mrs. Brennan?"

She rose up impulsively.

"How ridiculous; how supremely ridiculous! Why, of course I will,
though I don't suppose Edith really cares very much, but she believed
it would be highly proper to be shocked. I don't think she likes you so
very well anyway, Captain Wayne, for she never will talk about you."

With these cheering words ringing in my ears, and feeling thoroughly
defeated in every cherished hope, I strode savagely down the long hill
and mounted my horse. How roughly fortune had buffeted me, to be sure,
and how extremely small the inspiration left. Well, perhaps I deserved
it for ever permitting myself to love one whom I knew to be the wife of
another. Doubtless she had seized upon this slight pretext to be rid of
me, and was already rejoicing over its easy accomplishment.

In my agitation I forgot entirely the presence of Maria Bungay at the
house, and ordering my men into saddle prepared for departure without
giving a thought to the little fellow and his domestic troubles. I
chose the road leading toward the northwest, for although I had not
asked the question I conceived it highly probable that Brennan and his
party would ride from the Federal cavalry quarters at Colter's Church,
and I had no desire to meet them. They were upon an errand of mercy of
far greater importance than my revenge.

As we swung along through the heavily timbered land fringing our road,
Bungay pressed his mule into a trot and finally succeeded in ranging up
at my side. Even in my disturbed mental condition I was amused at his
unique style of riding, although I would not wound him by laughing.

"I say, Cap," he said, jerking the words out to the mule's hard trot,
and grasping his saddle pommel desperately, "I sorter reckon as how
ther'll be some fun back thar afore long, 'less all signs fail."

"Why?" I stared at him, now thoroughly aroused to the thought that he
had important news to communicate.

"Wal," he explained slowly, "whin ye wint off, I sorter tuk a notion
ter look 'bout a bit. Used ter be an ol' stompin' ground o' mine. So
Dutchy an' me clumb thet big hill back o' whar we halted, an' by gum,
down thar in ther gully on t' other side thar's a durned big camp o'
fellers."

I reined up short, and with uplifted hand signalled the men behind to
halt.

"Why didn't you tell me this before?" I questioned sternly. "How many
were there? and what did they look like?"

He scratched the back of his head thoughtfully, and answered with
careful deliberation. "Durn it, I didn't jine ye till after ye'd
started, an' I reckon as how it took me all o' tew mile ter git this
yere blame muel up ter whar I cud talk. Thar's quite a smart bunch, but
they hed some pickets out, an' I cudn't git close 'nough ter tell
zackly. Dutchy thought thar wus nigh onter two hunderd o' 'em, but I
jist don't know. They wusn't dressed like sojers o' either army, an' I
reckon they're out o' ther hills."

I glanced at my little handful of men, scarcely knowing what decision
it might be wise to make. Undoubtedly they would fight if occasion
arose, but the odds were terribly heavy; besides, if Brennan came, and
his party got away that same evening, as was planned for them to do,
then it might not be necessary for us to strike a blow. I was certainly
in no mood to expose my small command merely to save the empty house
from destruction.

"Ebers," I said, turning toward the Sergeant, who sat his horse with
expressionless face, "you were with the guide when he discovered this
camp. How many do you think it contained? and who were they?"

"Vel, dere vos more as two gompanies, Captain, und dere vos some
horses, but dey vos dressed--vot you calls it?--all ober not der same."

"Not in uniform?"

"Dot vos it."

"Have any of the rest of you seen anything that looked suspicious?" I
asked, glancing around into the different faces.

"Maybe I did," answered one of the troopers named Earl. "As we rode up
the first hill after leaving the house my horse picked up a stone, and
I had to stop and get it out. I reckon I fell behind a quarter of a
mile or more, and just as I started I looked back, and a party of ten
or twelve fellows was just riding in through them big gates onto the
front lawn. But them fellows was soldiers for sure; they rode regular
like, and all of them wore caps. It was so far off I couldn't tell the
color of their clothes, but them caps made me think they was Feds."

I chose my course at once. This undoubtedly must have been Brennan's
party.

"Thank you, my man; it would have been better if you had reported that
to me at once," I said. "However, I understand the situation much
better now. Sergeant, we will go into camp here. Post pickets in both
directions, but put your most careful men on that hill yonder. Let them
report promptly any signs of fire to the southeast, or any sound of
guns."

We completed all our cooking before dark, and when the night finally
closed down about us it proved to be an exceedingly black one, although
the skies were clear. Sleep was an impossibility for me, as my mind was
in constant turmoil. I felt hampered, prisoned, shut in, unable to do
what I most desired. I wondered where she was--probably riding
northward beside her husband, and I bit my lip savagely at thought of
it; possibly she was even then laughing merrily in memory of my
unfortunate predicament in the garden. So she cared nothing for me,
exhibited her indifference clearly in presence of others, disliked even
to hear my name mentioned. Very well, I would take exceeding good care
never again to intrude myself upon her. Then my thoughts swerved to the
big house out yonder in the darkness. If signs of attack came to us,
what should I do? The question truly puzzled me, for I was unwilling to
expose the lives of my men merely to save property--Confederate
soldiers were far too valuable at that stage of the war. If I only knew
positively that the women were safely away, I would tarry no longer in
the neighborhood. But I did not know; I merely hoped.

Ebers was lying next me upon the grass, solemnly puffing at his huge
pipe, and I held my watch to the glow in its bowl in order to see the
time. It was nearly midnight.

"Those fellows ought to be at it before this," I said to him, "if they
intend to accomplish anything to-night."

"I dink so too," he answered slowly. "I vill see dot der guard is all
right, an' den vill get some sleep, for I am pretty moch done op
already."

He arose ponderously to his feet, and stretched out his short arms in a
prodigious yawn. As he stood there, his pudgy figure outlined against
the sky, there was borne to our ears the sound of a furious struggle on
the hilltop to the south--a shout, blows, a volley of cursing, then
silence. An instant later we were both running through the darkness
toward the scene of trouble.

"What is it, Sands?" I questioned breathlessly, as I came suddenly upon
the little group.

"A fellar on hossback," was the answer. "He come up on us like a streak
out o' thet black hollor, an' he'd a sure got away of Mason hed n't
clubbed him with his gun. I've got the cuss safe collared now."

"Who are you?" I asked sternly, striving in vain to see something of
him through the darkness. "Where were you riding?"

He maintained a sullen silence, and Sands kicked him.

"None of that," I commanded. "Ebers, strike a match, will you, and let
me see this chap."

I had scarcely spoken when our prisoner thrust Sands roughly aside and
took one hasty step toward me.

"My God, Wayne! Is it possible this is you?" he cried excitedly.

"Caton?" I exclaimed, as surprised as himself. "Caton? What is it? What
is wrong?"

"Am I to do dot?" asked the Sergeant, anxiously.

"No," I answered. "I know this man, and we shall need no fire. Caton,
are you from the Minor house? Has it been attacked?"

"Yes," he answered, panting yet from his exertion and excitement. "We
were to start North with the ladies at nine o'clock, but the house was
surrounded as soon as it became dark. Those devils supposed it to be
unguarded, and advanced without precautions. We fired and drove them
back. We had repulsed three attacks when I left at eleven, but three of
our men were already hit."

"You were after aid?"

"I was striving to reach our advance pickets at McMillan. It seemed the
only possible chance, and none of the men would volunteer to make the
ride. One was killed trying it before I started. God knows how I hated
to leave them, but it had to be done. How many have you?"

"Only twenty; but if we could once get inside along with your fellows,
we might hold the house until reinforcements came."

"Thank God! I knew you would!" he cried joyfully, grasping me again
fervently by the hand. "You are not one to hesitate over the color of a
uniform at such a time as this. I have been proud all through this war
to feel that we on both sides were of the same blood, and have felt
like cheering your gray lines more than once. Only, Wayne," and he
hesitated an instant, "it is right I should tell you that Brennan is
there, and in command."

"I know it, but those women must be saved nevertheless," I answered
firmly, my mind settled. "This is no time for personal quarrelling, and
whatever color of cloth we wear those outlaws are our common enemies,
to be hunted down like wild beasts. I have seen specimens of their
fiendish cruelty that make my blood run cold to remember. The very
thought of those who are now exposed falling into such hands is enough
to craze one; death would be preferable a thousand times. How many
fighting men have you?"