Robert W. Chambers

“ The bandmaster looked at her helplessly.
"I don't know," he repeated,—"I don't know what to say. Nobody seems to understand what is happening; we in the regiment are never told anything; we know nothing except what passes under our eyes." He broke off suddenly; the situation, her loneliness, the impending danger, appalled him.
"May I ask a little favor?" she said, rising. "Would you mind coming in a moment to see my grandfather?"
He stood up obediently, sheathed sabre in his left hand; she led the way across the hall and up the stairs, opened the door, and motioned toward the bed. ”

“ The wild music of "Garryowen" set the horses frantic—and the men, too. The band, still advancing at a walk, was dropping rapidly behind. A bullet hit kettle-drummer Pillsbury, and he fell with a grunt, doubling up across his nigh kettle-drum. A moment later Peters struck his cymbals wildly together and fell clean out of his saddle, crashing to the sod. Schwarz, his trombone pierced by a ball, swore aloud and dragged back his frantic horse into line.
"Right dress!" said the bandmaster, blandly, mastering his own splendid mount as a bullet grazed its shoulder. ”

“ The boy listened earnestly. "Would you please tell me," he asked, "whether you have decided to have a battle pretty soon?"
"I don't decide such matters," said the bandmaster, laughing.
"Why, I thought a general could always have a battle when he wanted to!" insisted the boy, surprised.
"But I'm not a general, Billy," replied the young fellow, coloring. "Did you think I was?"
"My brother's ideas are very vague," said his sister, quickly; "any officer who fights is a general to him." ”

“ The bandmaster assented thoughtfully. Once or twice his worn eyes swept the room—a room that made him homesick for his own. It had been a long time since he had sat in a chair in a room like this,—a long time since he had talked with women and children. Perhaps the boy's sister divined something of his thoughts—he was not much older than she,—for, as he rose, hooking up his sabre, and stepped forward to take his leave, she stood up too, offering her hand.
"Our house is always open to Union soldiers," she said, simply. "Will you come again?" ”

“ Now—what is it, dear, you wish to tell me?"
"Oh, I forgot; truly I did, Celia,—but a general is coming to visit me to-night if you can possibly manage it, and I'm so glad you hung out the flag—and Moses can serve the Madeira, can't he?"
"What general?" inquired his sister, uneasily. And her brother's explanations made matters no clearer. "You remember what the Yankee cavalry did before," she said, anxiously. "You must be careful, Billy, now that the quarters are empty and there's not a soul in the place except Mose."
"But, Celia! the general is a gentleman. I shook hands with him!" ”

“ Mount your men."
Ten minutes later the regiment, band ahead, marched out of Sand River and climbed the hill, halting in the road that passed the great white mansion. As the outposts moved forward they encountered a small boy on a pony, who swung his cap at them gayly as he rode. Squads, dismounted, engaged in tearing away the rail fences bordering the highway, looked around, shouting a cheery answer to his excited greeting; the colonel on a ridge to the east lowered his field-glasses to watch him; the bandmaster saw him coming and smiled as the boy drew bridle beside him, saluting. ”

“ A little later the cavalry arrived, riding slowly up the tree-shaded street, escorted by every darky and every dog in the countryside.
The clothing of this regiment was a little out of the ordinary. Instead of usual campaign head-gear the troopers wore forage-caps strapped under their chins, heavy vizors turned down, and their officers were conspicuous in fur-trimmed hussar tunics slung from the shoulders of dark-blue shell-jackets ”

“ There it is, Mose!" he cried, excitedly, scrambling from his saddle. "Here—take the bridle! And the very minute you hear the general dashing into the drive, let me know!"
He ran jingling up the resounding veranda—he wore his father's spurs—and mounted the stairs, two at a jump, calling: "Celia! Celia! You'll be glad to know that a general who is a friend of mine—"
"Hush, Billy," said his sister, checking him on the landing and leading him out to the gallery from which the flag hung,—"can't you remember that grandfather is asleep by sundown? ”

“ A few moments later a child on a pony tore into the weed-grown drive leading to the great mansion on the hill, scaring a lone darky who had been dawdling among the roses.
" 'Clar' tu goodness, Mars Will'm, I done tuk you foh de Black Hoss Cav'ly!" said the ancient negro, reproachfully. "Hi! Hi! Wha' foh you mek all dat fuss an' a-gwine-on?"
"Oh, Mose!" cried the boy, "I've seen the Yankee cavalry, and they have a horse-band, and I rode with them, and I asked a general when they were going to have a battle, and the general said he'd let me know!" ”

“ The boy stood waiting for them, and as they appeared, he caught their hands in each of his. talking all the while and walking with them to the gateway, where pony and charger stood, nose to nose under the trees.
"If you need anybody to dash about carrying despatches," the boy ran on, " why, I'll do it for you. My father was a soldier, and I'm going to be one, and I—"
"Billy," said the bandmaster, abruptly, "when we charge, go up on that hill and watch us. If we don't come back, you must be ready to act a man's part. Your sister counts on you." ”

“ Kin you splain dat, Mars Will'm?"
"Don't you think I know a general?" exclaimed the boy, scornfully. "He had yellow and gilt on his sleeves, and he carried a sabre, and he rode first of all. And—oh, Mose! He's coming here to pay me a visit! Perhaps he'll come to-night; he said he would if he could."
"Dat gin'ral 'low he gwine come here?" muttered the darky. "Spec' you better see Miss Celia 'fo' you ax dis here gin'ral."
"I'm going to ask her now," said the boy. "She certainly will be glad to see one of our own men. Who cares if all the niggers have run off? ”

“ For a moment a geyser of ashes, coffee, and bacon rained among the men.
"Hell!" said Pillsbury, furiously, wiping his face with his dripping sleeve and spitting out ashes.
"Young kettle-drums he don't love his vittles," observed a trooper, picking up the cap that had been jerked from his head by a whirring fragment. ”

“ They stood a moment looking at one another, then he bowed and turned to the boy, who caught his hand impulsively.
"I knew my sister would like you!" he exclaimed.
"Everybody is very kind," said the young bandmaster, looking steadily at the boy. ”

“ Mars Will'm, ef dat ossifer ain' er gin'ral, he gwine be mighty quick!"
"I don't care," said the boy, "I just love him."
The negro shuffled out across the moonlit veranda, peered around through the fragrant gloom, wrinkled hands linked behind his back. Then he descended the steps stiffly, and teetered about through the shrubbery with the instinct of a watch-dog worn out in service.
"Nuff'n to scare nobody, scusin' de hoot-owls," he muttered. "Spec' hit's time Miss Celia bolt de do', 'long o' de sodgers an' all de gwines-on. Shoo! Hear dat fool chickum crow!" ”

“ She set the flaring dip on the bureau, and came back to the bed. "We thought of you, too," she said.
His restless hand, fumbling the quilt, closed on hers; his eyes were shut, but his lips moved, and she bent nearer to catch his words:
"We non-combatants get into heaps of trouble—don't we?" ”