None save themselves seemed to be abroad. The city was steeped in Sabbath calm and a quiet moon rode in a quiet heaven. Prescott did not stop now to a.n.a.lyze his feelings, though he knew that a touch of pique, and perhaps curiosity, too, entered into this pursuit, otherwise he should not have troubled himself so much with an unbidden task. But he was the hunter and she the hunted, and he was alive now with the spirit of the chase.
She turned toward the northwest, where the lines of earthwork were thinnest, where, in fact, a single person might slip between them in the darkness, and Prescott no longer had any doubt that his first surmise was correct. Moreover, she was wary to the last degree, looking cautiously on every side and stopping now and then to see that she was not followed. A fine moon sometimes shed its full rays upon her, and she seemed then to Prescott to be made of silver mist.
He, too, was most wary, knowing the need of it, and allowed the distance between them to lengthen, clinging meanwhile to the shadow of buildings and fences with such effect that when she looked back she never saw the man behind.
They pa.s.sed into the suburbs, low and straggling, little groups of negro cabins stringing out now and then in the darkness, and the woman, save for her occasional pauses to see if she were pursued, kept a straight and rapid course as if she knew her mind and the way.
They came at last to a spot where there was a small break in the earthworks, and Prescott saw the sentinels walking their beats, gun on shoulder. Then the fugitive paused in the shadow of bushes and high gra.s.s and watched attentively.
The pursuit had become curiously unreal to Prescott. It seemed to him that he was in the presence of the mysterious and weird, but he was resolute to follow, and he wished only that she should resume her flight.
When the sentinels were some distance apart she slid between like a shadow, unseen and unheard, and Prescott, an adept at pursuit, quickly followed. They were now beyond the first line of earthworks, though yet within the ring of Richmond"s outer defenses, but a single person with ordinary caution might pa.s.s the latter, too.
He followed her through bushes and clumps of trees which hung like patches of black on the shoulders of the hills, and he shortened the s.p.a.ce between them, not caring now if she saw him, as he no longer had any doubt of her purpose. He looked back once and saw behind him an almost imperceptible glow which he knew was the city, and then on the left beheld another light, the mark of a Confederate fortress, set there as a guard upon the ways.
She turned to the right, leaving the fortress behind, pa.s.sing into country still more desolate, and Prescott thought it was now time to end the pursuit. He pressed forward with increased speed, and she, hearing the sound of a footstep behind her, looked back. He heard in the dead stillness of the night the low cry of fright that broke from her. She stood for a moment as if the power of motion had departed, and then fled like a wounded deer, with Prescott, more than ever the hunter, swiftly following after.
He was surprised at her speed. Clearly she was long-limbed and strong, and for the time his energies were taxed to keep within sight of her fleeing figure. But he was a man, she a woman, and the pursuit was not long. At last she sank, panting, upon a fallen log, and Prescott approached her, a strange mingling of triumph and pity in his heart.
She looked up and there was appeal in her face. Again he saw how young she was, how pure the light of her eyes, how delicately moulded each feature, and surprise came, as a third emotion, to mingle with the triumph and pity, and not in a less degree.
"Ah, it is you," she said, and in her tone there was no surprise, only aversion.
"Yes, it is I," replied Prescott; "and you seemed to have expected me."
"Not in the way that you think," she replied haughtily.
A wonderful change came over her face, and her figure seemed to stiffen; every lineament, every curve expressed scorn and contempt. Prescott had never before seen such a remarkable transformation, and for the moment felt as if he were the guilty one and she the judge.
While he was wondering thus at her attractive personality, she rose and stood before him.
"Now, sir," she said, "you shall let me go, Mr.----Mr.----"
"I am Captain Robert Prescott of the Confederate Army," said Prescott.
"I have nothing to conceal," and then he added significantly: "At present I am on voluntary duty."
"I have seen enough of you," she said in the same unbending tone. "You have given me a fright, but now I am recovered and I bid you leave me."
"You mistake, Madam or Miss," replied Prescott calmly, recovering his composure; "you and I have not seen enough of each other. I am a gentleman, I hope, at least I have pa.s.sed for one, and I have no intent to insult you."
"What is your wish?" she asked, still standing before him, straight and tall, her tone as cold as ice.
"Truly," thought Prescott, "she can carry it off well, and if such business as this must be done by a woman, hers is a mind for the task."
But aloud he said: "Madam--or--Miss--you see you are less frank than I; you do not supply the omission--certain doc.u.ments important to the Government which I serve, and as important to our enemies if they can get them, were taken yesterday from the office of the President. Kindly give them to me, as I am a better custodian for them than you are."
Her face remained unchanged. Not by a single quiver of the lip or gleam of the eye did she show emotion, and in the same cold, even voice she replied:
"You are dreaming, Captain Prescott. Some freak of the fancy has mastered you. I know nothing of the doc.u.ments. How could I, a woman, do such a thing?"
"It is not more strange than your flight from Richmond alone and at such an hour."
"What signifies that? These are times of war and strange times demand strange conduct. Besides, it concerns me alone."
"Not so," replied Prescott firmly; "give me the papers."
Her face now changed from its calm. Variable emotions shot over it.
Prescott, as he stood there before her, was conscious of admiration.
What vagary had sent a girl who looked like this upon such a task!
"The papers," he repeated.
"I have none," she replied.
"If you do not give them to me I shall be compelled to search you, and that, I fancy, you do not wish. But I a.s.sure you that I shall do it."
His tone was resolute. He saw a spark of fire in her eye, but he did not quail.
"I shall turn my back," he added, "and if the papers are not produced in one minute"s time I shall begin my search."
"Would you dare?" she asked with flashing eyes.
"I certainly would," he replied. "I trust that I know my duty."
But in a moment the light in her eyes changed. The look there was an appeal, and it expressed confidence, too. Prescott felt a strange tremour. Her glance rested full upon him and it was strangely soft and pathetic.
"Captain Prescott," she said, "upon my honour--by the memory of my mother, I have no papers."
"Then what have you done with them?" said Prescott.
"I have never had any."
He looked at her doubtfully. He believed and yet he did not. But her eyes shone with the light of purity and truth.
"Then why are you out here at such an hour, seeking to escape from Richmond?" he asked at last.
"Lest I bring harm to another," she said proudly.
Prescott laughed slightly and at once he saw a deep flush dye her face, and then involuntarily he made an apology, feeling that he was in the presence of one who was his equal.
"But I must have those papers," he said.
"Then keep your threat," she said, and folding her arms proudly across her breast she regarded him with a look of fire.
Prescott felt the blood rising in his face. He could not fulfil his menace and now he knew it.
"Come," he said abruptly, "you must go back to Richmond with me. I can take you safely past the earthworks and back to the house from which you came; there my task shall end, but not my duty."
However, he comforted himself with the thought that she had not pa.s.sed the last line of defenses and perhaps could not do so at another time.