"G.o.d protects those who devote themselves to the good of their country,"
said Geiger. "If I could bear the fatigue of the journey, I would not shrink from the service an instant."
"You would commit an act of folly."
"No--of true devotion to my country," replied the farmer warmly. "But,"
he added in a saddened voice, "what boots it that I am willing for the task. These feeble limbs refuse to bear me on the journey."
Emily Geiger, the daughter, heard all this with feelings of intense interest; and as she had often said before, so she said now, in the silence of her spirit: "Oh that I were a man!" But she was simply a young and tender girl, and her patriotic heart could only throb with n.o.ble feelings, while her hands were not able to strike a blow for her country.
"If I were only a man!" murmured the young girl again and again, as she mused on what she had heard, long after the neighbour had departed.
In the mean time, General Greene, who had heard through messengers from Colonel Lee of the proposed abandonment of Ninety-six, and the division of the British and tory forces, was making preparations to retrace his steps, and strike, if possible, a decisive blow against Lord Rawdon. In order to make certain of victory, it was necessary to inform Sumter of his designs, and effect a junction with him before attacking the enemy.
But, thus far, no one offered to perform the dangerous service.
On the morning of the day upon which the army was to commence retracing its steps, General Greene sat in his tent lost in deep thought. Since taking command of the southern army, he had been struggling at every disadvantage with a powerful enemy, whose disciplined troops were daily strengthened by citizens of the country, lost to every feeling of true patriotism; and now, having weakened that enemy, he felt eager to strike a blow that would destroy him. But, with the force that he could command, it was yet a doubtful question whether an engagement would result in victory to the American arms. If he could effect a junction with Sumter before Lord Rawdon reached Friday"s Ferry on the Congaree, he had great hopes of success. But the great difficulty was to get a messenger to Sumter, who was distant between one and two hundred miles.
While the general was pondering these things, an officer entered and said--
"A young country girl is before the tent, and wishes to speak with you."
"Tell her to come in," replied the general.
The officer withdrew, and in a few moments reappeared in company with a young girl, dressed in a closely fitting habit, carrying a small whip in her hand. She curtsied respectfully as she entered.
The general arose as the maiden stepped inside of his tent, and returned her salutation.
"General Greene?" inquired the fair stranger.
The officer bowed.
"I have been told," said the visitor, the colour deepening in her face, "that you are in want of a bearer of despatches to General Sumter."
"I am," replied the general. "But I find no one courageous enough to undertake the perilous mission."
"Send me," said the maiden. And she drew her slight form upward proudly.
"Send you!" exclaimed the general, taken by surprise. "You? Oh no, child! I could not do that. It is a journey from which brave men hold back."
"I am not a brave man. I am only a woman. But I will go."
"Touched by such an unlooked-for incident, General Greene, after pausing for some moments, said--
"Will you go on this journey alone?"
"Give me a fleet horse, and I will bear your message safely."
"Alone?"
"Alone."
[Ill.u.s.tration: GENERAL GREENE AND MISS GEIGER. Page 72.]
"What is your name?" inquired the officer, after another thoughtful pause.
"Emily Geiger."
"Is your father living?"
"Yes."
"Have you his consent?"
"He knows nothing of my intention. But he loves his country, and, but for ill health, would be now bearing arms against their enemies. His heart is with the good cause, though his arm is powerless. His head must approve the act, though his heart might fail him were I to ask his consent. But it is not for you, general, to hesitate. Heaven has sent you a messenger, and you dare not refuse to accept the proffered service when so much is at stake."
"n.o.ble girl!" said the general, with emotion, "you shall go. And may G.o.d speed you and protect you on your journey."
"He will!" murmured the intrepid girl, in a low voice.
"Order a swift, but well-trained and gentle horse to be saddled immediately," said Greene to the officer who had conducted the maiden into his presence.
The officer retired, and Emily seated herself while the general wrote a hasty despatch for Sumter. This, after it was completed, he read over to her twice, in order that, if compelled to destroy it, she might yet deliver the message verbally, and then asked her to repeat to him its contents. She did so accurately. He then gave her minute directions with regard to the journey, with instructions how to act in case she was intercepted by the soldiers of Lord Rawdon, to all of which she listened with deep attention.
"And now, my good girl," said the general, with an emotion that he could not conceal, as he handed her the despatch, "I commit to your care this important message. Every thing depends on its safe delivery.
Here is money for your expenses on the journey," and he reached her a purse. But Emily drew back, saying--
"I have money in my pocket. Keep what you have. You will need it, and more, for your country."
At this point, the officer re-entered the tent, and announced that the horse was ready.
"And so am I," said Emily, as she stepped out into the open air.
Already a whisper of what was going on in the general"s quarters had pa.s.sed through the camp, and many officers and men had gathered before his tent to see the n.o.ble-minded girl as she came forth to start upon her dangerous journey.
There was no sign of fear about the fair young maiden, as she placed her foot in the hand of an officer and sprang upon the saddle. Her face was calm, her eyes slightly elevated, and her lips gently compressed with resolution. General Greene stood near her. He extended his hand as soon as she had firmly seated herself and grasped the reins of the n.o.ble animal upon which she was mounted.
"_G.o.d speed you on your journey, and may heaven and your country reward you_," said he, as he held her hand tightly. Then, as if impelled by a sudden emotion, he pressed the fair hand to his lips, and turning away sought the seclusion of his tent, deeply moved by so unexpected and touching an instance of heroism in one who was little more than a child. As he did so, the officer, who had until now held the horse by the bridle, released his grasp, and Emily, touching her rein, spoke to the animal upon which she was mounted. Obeying the word instantly he sprang away, bearing the fair young courier from the camp, and moved rapidly in a south-westerly direction. Officers and men gazed after her, but no wild shout of admiration went up to the skies. On some minds pressed, painfully, thoughts of the peril that lay in the path of the brave girl; others, rebuked by her n.o.ble self-devotion, retired to their tents and refrained from communion with their fellows on the subject that engrossed every thought; while others lost all present enthusiasm in their anxiety for the success of the mission.
About five miles from the encampment of General Greene, lived one of the most active and bitter tories in all South Carolina. His name was Loire. He was ever on the alert for information, and had risked much in his efforts to give intelligence to the enemy. Two of his sons were under arms at Ninety-Six, on the British side, and he had himself served against his country at Camden. Since the encampment of General Greene in his neighbourhood, Loire had been daily in communication with spies who were kept hovering in his vicinity, in order to pick up information that might be of importance to the British.
Some four hours after Emily Geiger had started on her journey, one of Loire"s spies reached the house of his employer.
"What news?" asked the tory, who saw, by the man"s countenance, that he had something of importance to communicate.
"The rebel Greene has found a messenger to carry his despatch to Sumter."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes; and she has been on her journey some four or five hours."
"She?"