The Tree of Appomattox | Page 6

Dick's mind.
"You mustn't dream of such a thing as entering Richmond, Mr.
Mason," he said.
"It was just a passing thought. But aren't you going in again?"
"Later on, no doubt, but not just now. I understand that we're planning
some movement. I don't know what it is, but I'm to wait here until it's
over. Good-by, Mr. Mason. Since things are closing in it's possible that
you and I will see more of each other than before."
"Of course, when I'm personally conducted by you on that trip into
Richmond."
Shepard, who had left the portico, turned and shook a warning finger.
"Dismiss that absolutely and forever from your mind, Mr. Mason," he
said.
Dick laughed, and watched the stalwart figure of the spy as he strode
away. Again the singular ease and lightness of his step struck him. To
the lad's fancy the grass did not bend under his feet. Upon Dick as upon
Harry, Shepard made the impression of power, not only of strength but
of subtlety and courage.
"I'm glad that man's on our side," said Dick to himself, as Shepard's
figure disappeared among the trees. Then he left the portico and went
down in the valley to Colonel Winchester's regiment, where he was
received with joyous shouts by several young men, including Warner
and Pennington, who had gone on before. Colonel Winchester himself
smiled and nodded, and Dick saluted respectfully.

The Winchesters, as they loved to call themselves, were faring well at
this particular time. Like the Invincibles on the other side, this regiment
had been decimated and filled up again several times. It had lost
heavily in the Wilderness and at Spottsylvania, but its colonel had
escaped without serious hurt and had received special mention for
gallantry and coolness. It had been cut up once more at Cold Harbor,
and because of its great services and losses it was permitted to remain a
while in the rear as a reserve, and obtain the rest it needed so sorely.
The brave youths were recovering fast from their wounds and exertions.
Their camp was beside a clear brook and there were tents for the
officers, though they were but seldom used, most of them, unless it
should be raining, preferring to sleep in their blankets under the trees.
The water was good to drink, and farther down were several deep pools
in which they bathed. Food, as usual in the Northern army, was good
and plentiful, and for the Winchesters it seemed more a period of play
than of war.
"What did you see at the house, Dick?" asked Colonel Winchester.
"The spy, Shepard. I talked a while with him. He says the Confederacy
is growing weaker every day, but if we try to storm Lee's lines we'll be
cut to pieces."
"I think he's right in both respects, although I feel sure that some kind
of a movement will soon be attempted. But Dick, a mail from the west
has arrived and here is a letter for you."
He handed the lad a large square envelope, addressed in tall, slanting
script, and Dick knew at once that it was from his mother. He seized it
eagerly, and Colonel Winchester, suppressing the wish to know what
was inside, turned away.
* * * *
I have not heard from my dearest boy since the terrible battles in the
east [Mrs. Mason wrote], but I hope and pray that you have come safely
through them. You have escaped so many dangers that I feel you must

escape all the rest. The news reaches us that the fighting in Virginia has
been of the most dreadful character, but when it arrives in Pendleton it
has two meanings. Those of our little town who are for the Confederacy
say General Grant's losses have been so enormous that he can go no
farther, and that the last and greatest effort of the North has failed.
Those who sympathize with the Union say General Lee has been
reduced so greatly that he must be crushed soon and with him the
Confederacy. As you know, I wish the latter to be true, but I suspect
that the truth is somewhere between the two statements.
But the truth either way brings me great grief. I cannot hate the
Southern people. We are Southern ourselves in all save this war, and,
although our dear little town is divided in feeling, I have received
nothing but kindness from those on the other side. Dr. Russell often
asks about you. He says you were the best Latin scholar in the
Academy, and he expects you to have a great future, as a learned man,
after the war. He speaks oftenest of you and Harry Kenton, and I
believe that you two were his favorite pupils. He says