Caton came in once more about the middle of the afternoon, bringing me some blankets; but he had no news, and his boyish face was a picture of pathos as he wrung my hand good-bye. Sheridan, he said, had gone down the lines, and both Brennan and himself were under orders to follow in another hour. What instructions, if any, had been left regarding my case he could not say, but he feared the worst from the unusual secrecy. Sheridan expected to return to his headquarters that same evening, as the officers of his staff were to give a grand ball.

I felt no inclination to partake of the rude supper left me, and just before dark I was lying upon the bench idly wondering if that was to prove the last vestige of daylight I should ever behold in this world, when, without slightest warning, the heavy iron grating in the wall directly above me fell suddenly, striking the edge of the bench, and clattered noisily to the floor. The fall was so unexpected, and my escape from injury so narrow, that I lay almost stunned, staring up helplessly at the dark hole thus left bare. As I gazed, a face framed itself in this narrow opening, and two wary eyes peered cautiously down at me. There was no mistaking that countenance even in the fast waning light, and I instantly sat up with an exclamation of surprise, “Jed Bungay, as I live!”

The puzzled face broke into a grin of delight.

“Holy smoke, Cap,” he ejaculated, with a deep sigh of relief, “'s thet you, suah? I wus so durned skeered I'd made a mess o' it whin thet thar iron drapped thet I near died. 'He crossed the threshold—and a clang of angry steel that instant rang.'”

He peered around cautiously, screwing up his little eyes as though transforming them into miniature telescopes.

“'If thou wouldst view fair Melrose aright, go visit it by the pale moonlight.' Be ye all alone, Cap?”

“With the exception of a few rats, yes.”

“Whut be they a goin' ter dew with ye?”

“I have every reason to believe it is their purpose to shoot me at daybreak to-morrow.”

“Shoot?—Hell!” He stared at me as if he had just heard his own death sentence pronounced, and his little peaked face looked ghastly in the dim light. “Shoot ye? Good Lord, Cap, whut fer? Ye ain't done nothin' as I knows on, 'cept ter scrap a bit with thet blasted Yank, an' sure thet's no shootin' matter, er else I'd a bin a goner long ago.”

“That 'Yank' has seen fit to charge me with being a spy; and as I was foolish enough to insult General Sheridan last night, my fate is probably sealed.”

This somewhat complex statement seemed to be too much for Jed to grasp promptly.

“Gosh, ye don't say!” he muttered. “Then, durn it, I'm in luck, fer all they've got agin me is pot-shootin' at a nigger soger up in ther mountings; en thet ain't much, 'cause I didn't hit ther durned cuss. Blame sorry tew, fer 'Who spills the foremost foeman's life, his party conquers in the strife.' Thet's Scott agin, Cap. Dew ye ever read Sir Walter? I tell ye, he's a poet, suah.”

Without pausing for a reply, or even noting that none had been given, Jed was carefully covering every inch of exposed wall with his little shrewd, glinting eyes.

“Ain't much show ter work out o' yere, is thar, Cap?” he asked at last reflectively; “leastwise I don't see none, 'less them thar dark corners hes got holes in 'em.”

“The wall is entirely solid.”

“So I sorter reckoned. But if ye'll crawl through yere inter my boodour, thar's a place whar I reckon ther tew of us tergether mought make a try fer it. It's too durn high up fer me ter git at alone.”

I rose to my feet slowly, wondering at the strange lassitude which made me so indifferent to that life I had always before so highly valued. Bungay noticed my hopelessness.

“Durned if prison life don't take all the sand out o' a feller,” he said cheerfully. “Blame me, but ye move as if ye wus 'bout half dead. But I reckon, Cap, if ye cud manage ter git out o' yere ternight, an' take some news ter Lee thet I've picked up, he'd 'bout make both of us ginerals. 'Speed, Malise, speed! The dun deer's hide on fleeter foot was never tied.'”

These words brought back to me in an instantaneous flash the old dominant military spirit. For Lee! Yes, for Lee I would yet take chances, undergo fatigue, brave death. If life must be given up, let it be yielded gallantly in the open, and on behalf of my distant comrades.

“News for Lee?” I exclaimed, staring eagerly at him through the now darkened room. “Do you mean it? What news?”

“Thought maybe thet wud wake ye up,” he chuckled.

“'Speed on the signal, clansman, speed!' Stan' up on ther bench, Cap, an' put yer ear up yere an' I'LL tell ye. This yere's gospel truth: Sheridan hes started his infantry on a half-circle march fer Minersville. Ther first division left et three o'clock, an' thar won't be nary Yank loafin' en ther valley by noon termorrow. An' more,” he added rapidly, his eyes dancing wildly with suppressed excitement,—“Hancock is a swingin' of his corps west ter meet 'em thar, an' I reckon, as how thar'll be hell fer sartain up ther Shenandoah in less ner a week—es Scott ses, 'the wild sounds of border war.'”

“But how do you know all this?” I questioned incredulously, as the whole scene and its dread possibilities unrolled before my mental vision.

“Ther nigger I held up hed a despatch fer Heintzelman over on ther left, an' then Mariar she sorter pumped a young fule staff officer fer ther rest o' it,” he replied promptly. “Oh, it's a sure go, Cap, an' I reckon as how maybe Lee's whole army hangs on one of us gittin' out o' yere ternight.

That he meant every word he spoke I felt convinced, and his enthusiasm was contagious. My blood leaped within me at this call to action; all lethargy fled, and with it every deadening thought of her who had so suddenly woven about me the meshes of her power. False or true, maid, wife, or widow, my duty as a soldier to my commander and the army to which I belonged, blotted out all else. Even as this new rush of determination swept over me, above us there sounded clearly the dashing music of a military band in the strains of a Strauss's waltz, and we could distinguish the muffled shuffling of many feet on the oaken floor overhead. Caton's chance remark about the great ball to be given that evening by officers of the headquarters staff recurred to my memory.

“That dancing up there will help us, Jed,” I said quickly, my mind now active to grasp every detail. “You say there is a chance for escape from your cell? Then give me your hand, and help me to crawl through that hole.”

It was a narrow squeeze for a man of my size, yet I crept through without great difficulty, and found myself in the dense darkness of a room which, as I judged hastily from feeling about me, was similar in shape and extent to the one in which I had been confined.

Bungay, however, permitted me little time for exploration. Grasping me firmly by one arm, and feeling his way along the wall, he groped across to the other side.

“There's a mighty big stone chimbly comes down yere, Cap,” he whispered, his lips close to my ears, although the noise above made conversation in an ordinary tone perfectly safe. “An' ther openin' ter take out soot an' ashes is up thar, jist b'low ther fluer. It's a sheet-iron pan, I reckon, ther way it feels; an' it must be thar they put a nigger in ter clean ther chimbly whin it gits stuffed up. I could git up thar alone, but I couldn't do no work, but thet thar pan ought ter cum out all right. Dew ye think ye cud hoi' me up, Cap? I'm purty durn heavy.”

I smiled in the darkness at the little fellow's egotism, and lifting him as I might a child, poised him lightly upon my shoulder. He struggled a moment to steady himself against the wall, and then I could feel him tugging eagerly at something which appeared to yield slowly to his efforts. As he worked, a dense shower of dust and soot caused me to close my eyes.

“She's a comin' all right,” he said cheerfully, puffing with his exertions, “but I reckon as how this chimbly ain't bin cleaned out since ther war begun. Hold up yer right han', Cap, an' git a blame good grip on her, fer she's almighty full, an'll wanter go down sorter easy like.”

I did as he suggested, bracing myself to meet his movements, as he stood straining on my shoulders, and in another moment I had succeeded in lowering the large sheet-iron pan silently to the floor.

“Room 'nough yere fer two men ter oncet,” chuckled my companion, in rare delight. “'The chief in silence strode before.' Yere goes.”

His weight left my shoulders; there was a slight scramble, another shower of dirt, then the sound of his voice once more.

“Lift up yer han's, Cap; dig in yer toes on ther stones, an' we'll begin our vi'ge.”

He grasped my wrists with a strength which I had no conception the little fellow possessed. There was a moment's breathless struggle, and I squirmed through the opening, and lay panting on the flat slabs which composed the foot of the great funnel. To afford me more room Bungay had gone up a little, finding foot-lodgment upon the uneven stones of which the chimney was constructed. For a moment we rested thus motionless, both breathing heavily and listening to the music and shuffling of feet now almost upon a level with our heads.

The noise, which was strong and continuous, rendered discovery from any misstep highly improbable, and as delay was dangerous neither of us was disposed to linger long.

“Be ye all ready, Cap?” questioned Bungay, bending his head down. “Fer if ye be, I'm a goin' up.”

“All right,” I answered, struggling to my knees in the narrow space; “only take it slow, Jed. I 'm a trifle bigger man than you, and this is rather close quarters.”

“Wal, yes, maybe a matter of a poun' er two,” he retorted, and the next moment I could hear him scraping his way upward, feeling for foothold upon the irregular layers of stone. I followed, pressing my knees firmly against the rough wall, and trusting more to my hands than feet for security against falling. There was evidently a fireplace of some kind on the first floor, with a considerable opening leading from it into the chimney we were scaling, for as Jed slowly passed, I could perceive a sudden gleam of light streaming across his face from the glare of the lamps within. He glanced anxiously that way, but did not pause in his steady climb upward.

A moment later I came opposite that same beam of radiance, and cautiously peered down the sloped opening that led to the disused fireplace. All I could perceive was a pair of legs, evidently those of a cavalry officer, judging from the broad yellow stripe down the seam of the light-blue trousers, and the high boots ornamented with rowel spurs. He stood leaning carelessly against the mantel, talking with some one just beyond the range of my vision.

At that moment the music ceased suddenly, and afraid to proceed until it should strike up again, I braced myself securely on a projecting stone and bent my head over the orifice until I could catch a portion of the conversation being carried on by my unconscious neighbors.

“No,” said the cavalryman, gruffly, and apparently in reply to some previous question, “the fellow was most devilish obstinate; wouldn't tell the first thing; even a threat of treating him as a spy and hanging him outright proved of no avail. But Sheridan's theory is that Lee has ordered Longstreet to hit our rear, while he makes a direct attack in front. That's why the 'old man' proposes to get in his work first, and we march at daylight to form connection with Hancock. By Jove, Chesley, but that woman in black over there with Follansbee is the handsomest picture I've seen south of the line. Mark how her eyes sparkle, and how prettily the light gleams in her hair. Who is she, do you chance to know?”

“Yes,” lisped the other, languidly, “met her at breakfast, headquarters, this morning. Deuced pretty and all that, mighty good style, too, but taken, old man. She's Brennan's.”

“What! not Major Brennan?” in surprise. “Why, he's always posed as a bachelor among our fellows.”

“Don't know anything about that, dear boy,” indifferently, “but the lady came in with him yesterday, was introduced to the crowd of us as Mrs. Brennan, and he called her Edith. Deuced nice name, Edith. As Brennan has shown such poor taste as to be absent to-night, I'm inclined to give a little of my time to his lady. Far and away the prettiest thing here.”

Just at this moment I heard Bungay speaking to me agonizingly down the chimney:

“Durn it all, Cap, I've—I've got ter sneeze.”

There was a smothered struggle in the darkness above me, then a muffled explosion that showered me with soot, and sounded to my startled nerves like the report of a gun. I drew up my legs hastily, and had barely done so when a heavily whiskered face peered up at me through the open fireplace. It appeared so close I had no doubt he saw me, but his eyes were unable to penetrate the darkness.

“Sounded devilishly like a sneeze,” he said suspiciously, as he straightened up again. “Must have been wind in the chimney.”

“More likely bats,” returned the other. “Well, so long, Somers; see you in the morning. I'm going to give the fair Edith a whirl.”

The cavalry legs shifted their position; the band resumed its functions, and in the renewed activity and noise I began again the toilsome climb, my mind now a bewildered chaos between my plain duty to Lee and my nearly uncontrollable desire to meet once more the woman who was dancing in the room below.

The little mountaineer, as active as a cat, and not especially hampered by lack of room in which to work, was well above me by this time. The chimney, acting as a tube, brought down to me from time to time the slight noise of his climbing, varied by an occasional exclamation or comment, but I could perceive no other evidence of his presence. Above, all was as black as the grave.

“Holy smoke!” he ejaculated, probably unaware that he was giving utterance to his thoughts. “That was a sharp rock! Durn if thar's a inch o' skin left on my knee. Whut is it Scott ses? 'An' broken arms and disarray marked the fell havoc of the day.' Gee! if Mariar cud only see me now, maybe she wouldn't be proud—

“Ough! stop thet! who's got hold o' my fut?”

“Hush your racket, you little fool,” I said angrily. “Do you want the whole Yankee army to trap us here like rats? I cannot get up this chimney any farther; it is growing too small to permit my body to pass.”

“Is thet so, Cap?” he asked anxiously. “Whut be ye goin' ter dew 'bout it?”

I made no answer for a moment; I was groping about in the darkness of our narrow quarters to see if I could determine exactly where we were.

“How high is this house, Jed, do you know?”

“Three stories an' attic.”

“How far up are we?”

“'Bout halfway 'long ther third story, I reckon; must be jist b'low whar ye are thet I stuck my fut down an openin'. Reckon 't was 'nother fireplace, like thet one on ther first flure.”

I lowered myself silently, and felt along the stones until I located the opening, and roughly measured its dimensions.

“I shall have to risk crawling out here, Jed,” I said finally, “for I shall surely stick fast if I go up another ten feet. Do you suppose you can squeeze through to the top?”

“I reckon I kin,” he returned calmly. “'Just as the minstrel's sounds were stayed, a stranger climbed the steepy glade.' But hadn't we better stick tergether, Cap?” “No,” I answered firmly. “You go on, and one of us must get through to Lee. Don't mind me at all; get down from the roof as best you can. If I am caught it will be all the more important that you should succeed.”

“'Tis done—'I thank thee, Roderick, for the word; it nerves my heart, it steels my sword.'”

Even as he spoke I could hear him creeping steadily upward. It soon became evident that his progress was growing slower, more difficult. Then all sounds above me ceased, and I knew he must have attained the roof in safety.