Mohun | Page 7

not abuse you, sir. You are the noblest gentleman I have ever
known."[1]
[Footnote 1: The real words of Stuart's prisoner]
And with mutual salutes they parted--the young aid-de-camp
accompanying the lady to her horse, and aiding her to mount. They
then set forward toward the Court-House. Stuart had ordered the
prisoner to be conducted thither, and detained at the village tavern,
under guard, until morning, when she would be sent to Richmond.
As they disappeared, I entered the general's tent, and found him
laughing. Leaning one hand upon his desk, covered with papers, upon

which rested his feather-decorated hat, he carelessly played with the
tassel of his yellow sash with the other hand. His blue eyes sparkled,
and his mustache curled with humor.
"That is really a beauty, Surry?" he said, "and I have laughed heartily."
He threw himself on his red blanket as he spoke, and began playing
with his two setter pups, whose names were "Nip" and "Tuck." He had
brought them out of the lines on his saddle.
"Well, you are really a magician," I said. "You charm the evil spirit,
and make prisoners laugh."
Stuart laughed in reply.
"That is a curious person that Mohun sent me," he said; "at first she
was disdainful enough; but I paid her a few compliments, and now she
is in an excellent humor, as you saw."
"Yes."
"But what about the fight?"
I made my report of the events of the evening.
"Well, Mohun is a trump," said Stuart. "A new man, but seems made of
the right stuff--real steel. What does Mordaunt say of the attack?"
"Only a scout."
"Right, and this lady is our spoil! She is handsome, is she not? But a
more curious face I have never seen. White cheeks and red lips--a sort
of devil and angel mixed! Who is she, I wonder, and what was her
errand. Something is under it. She gave her name as 'Mrs. Darke,'--and
her horse made me break the tenth commandment, Surry! Lady and
courser are splendid."
"She is certainly a beauty."
"And what eyes!"
"Dangerous."
Stuart remained silent for some moments, and then I heard him sigh.
"Do you know, my dear Surry," he said, "that if people heard us talk in
this way, they would call us libertines--immoral--any thing? There are
two things that people will not disbelieve about me--that I am impure,
and a drunkard! Do you know what a good man was heard to say of me
the other day? 'Stuart would be one of the greatest soldiers in the army,
if he did not drink so hard!'[1] And others add: 'if he were not a
libertine.' Well, need I defend myself to you, from these charges? I
promised my mother in my childhood, never to touch ardent spirits, and

a drop has never passed my lips, except the wine of the communion.[2]
I know I need not tell you that I am equally guiltless of the other
imputation. That person does not live who can say that I ever did any
thing improper of that description. And yet I am a drunkard--a
libertine--I, who never touched drink, and love but one person in this
world!"
[Footnote 1: This was actually said of Stuart.]
[Footnote 2: His words]
Stuart's head sank, and he uttered a weary sigh.
"They will not let me alone," he muttered, "and yet I am here fighting
for my country. But I defy them to take my good name away from me,
Surry!"
And he rose to his feet.
"General Lee knows me! Jackson knew me! I have the regard of the
one, and I had the love of the other. What do I care? If my children
only will not hear these ignoble charges! One can never hear them,
Surry-- my beloved little Flora! She died while I was fighting near
Middleburg in the fall of '62--that nearly broke me down--"
And Stuart paused and covered his eyes with his hand. Between the
fingers I saw a tear.
For a moment his breast heaved--something like a sob issued from the
brave lip, whereon the heavy mustache trembled.
"I think of her often--I shall never get over her death, Surry!"[1] he
murmured. "They think me hard and cold, and bad perhaps--it is
nothing. Since she died I care less for men's opinion, and only try to do
my duty, till the ball comes that will end me."
[Footnote 1: His words.]
And dashing a tear from his eyes, Stuart walked to the door of his tent,
from which he gazed forth upon the stars.
Five minutes passed thus, and I did not speak. Then all at once I heard
Stuart call out: "Orderly!"
"Yes, sir," came from the man on post near the tent.
"Tell Sweeney to come and bring his