Mohun | Page 6

self-possession he could not restrain this exhibition of emotion.
"Impossible! You are deceiving me--"
The prisoner interrupted him with a gay laugh.
"So you do not believe me," she said; "you think, my dear sir, that everybody is dead but yourself! Dismiss that idea from your mind! I am not dead, since we have the pleasure of again meeting in the flesh. He is not dead! No! it was Colonel Mortimer Darke whom you fought to-night. This is his horse which I borrowed to take a short ride. I have been captured, but he is neither dead nor captured, and you will doubtless receive some friendly message from him soon."
Under the mocking accents and the satirical glance, it was easy to read profound hatred. The speaker could not hide that. At that moment she resembled a tigress about to spring.
Mohun had listened with absorbing attention as his companion spoke; but, as on the first occasion, he speedily suppressed his agitation. His face was now as cold and unmoved as though moulded of bronze.
"So be it, madam," he said; "I will respond as I best can to such message as he may send me. For yourself, you know me well, and, I am glad to see, indulge no apprehensions. The past is dead; let it sleep. You think this interview is painful to me. You deceive yourself, madam; I would not exchange it for all the wealth of two hemispheres."
And calling an officer, he said:--
"You will conduct this lady to General Stuart, reporting the circumstances attending her capture."
Mohun made a ceremonious bow to the prisoner as he spoke, saluted me in the same manner, and mounting his horse, rode back at the head of his column.
The prisoner, escorted by the young officer, and still riding her fine horse, had already disappeared in the darkness.

V.
STUART.
An hour afterward, I had delivered my message to Mordaunt, and was returning by the road over Fleetwood Hill, thinking of the singular dialogue between Mohun and the gray woman.
What had these worthies meant by their mysterious allusions? How had Mohun found himself face to face on this stormy night, with two human beings whom he thought dead?
These questions puzzled me for half an hour; then I gave up the mystery, laughing. An hour afterward I had passed through Culpeper Court-House, crossed the fields, and had reached General Stuart's headquarters.
Stuart's tent, or rather the strip of canvas which he called one, was pitched beneath a great oak on a wooded knoll about a mile south of the little village. Above it drooped the masses of fresh June foliage; around, were grouped the white canvas "flies" of the staff; in a glade close by gleamed the tents d'abri of the couriers. Horses, tethered to the trees, champed their corn in the shadow; in the calm, summer night, the battle-flag drooped and clung to its staff. Before the tent of Stuart, a man on guard, with drawn sabre, paced to and fro with measured steps.
A glance told me that Mohun's singular prisoner had arrived. A courier was holding her fine animal near the general's tent, and as I dismounted, three figures' appeared in the illuminated doorway. These were the figures of Stuart, the "gray woman," and a young aid-de-camp.
"Farewell, madam," said Stuart, bowing and laughing; "I am sorry to have made your acquaintance under circumstances so disagreeable to you; but I trust you will appreciate the situation, and not blame me."
"Blame you? Not in the least, general. You are a very gallant man."
And the gay words were accompanied by a musical laugh.
"You will have an opportunity of seeing the Confederate capital," said Stuart, smiling.
The lady made a humorous grimace.
"And of abusing me upon the way thither; and afterward on the route to Port Monroe and Washington, as you will not be detained, I am sure."
"I shall 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,