Robert W. Chambers

“ There seemed to be no firing anywhere in the vicinity; nothing to be seen but dusky pine woods; and after she had advanced almost to the edge of a little clearing, and not encountering the outer line of Union pickets, she drew bridle and sat stock still in her saddle, searching in every direction with alert dark eyes.
Nothing moved; the heated scent of the Southern pines hung heavy in the forest: in the long dry swale grass of the clearing, yellow butterflies were flying lazily ”

“ It is part of us—our race was always, will always be. . . . But—to see a man near death—and to care for him a little— even a rebel—and to know that one word might save him—only one little disloyal word!"
"No man would save you at that expense," said the Nurse disdainfully, "I know men,"
"Do you? I don't—in that way. There was once an offficer—a non-combatant. I could have cared for him. . . . Once there was a Confederate cavalryman. I struck him senseless with my revolver-butt—and I could have—loved him. He was very young. ”

“ There were only a hundred of them—probably some of Stuart's riders, for they seemed strangely familiar—but it was not long before they had passed on their gay course, and the last tremor in the forest soil—the last distant rattle of saber and carbine—died away in the forest silence.
What were they doing here? She did not know. There seemed no logical reason for their presence.
For a while, awaiting their possible collision with the Union outposts, she listened, expecting the far rattle of rifles. No sound came. They must have sheered off east. ”

“ The schoolgirl dream of man dies here forever. Only unwashed, naked duty remains; and its inspiration, man—bloody, dirty, vermin-covered, terrible—sometimes; and sometimes whimpering, terrified, flinching, base, bereft of all his sex's glamour, all his mystery, shorn of authority, devoid of pride, pitiable, screaming under the knife. ... It is different now." said the pretty Volunteer Nurse. . . . "The war kills more than human life."
The Special Messenger drew her buckskin gloves carefully through her belt and buttoned the holster of her revolver. ”

“ This must be the burnt clearing; her map and the cabin corroborated her belief. Then it was here that she was to meet this unknown man in Confederate uniform and Union pay—a spy like herself—and give him certain information and receive certain information in return.
Her instructions had been unusually rigid; she was to take every precaution; use native disguise whether or not it might appear necessary, carry no papers, and let any man she might encounter make the advances until she was absolutely certain of him. ”

“ In her easily excited imagination, all around her the forest seemed to conceal a hundred malevolent eyes. She shivered slightly, wiped the perspiration from her brow with one small bare fist, and plodded on, clutching her light- wood to her soft, rounded breast.
And now at last she was nearing the open cabin door; and she must not hesitate, must show no suspicion. So she went in, dragging her clumsily-shod feet.
A very young man in the uniform of a Confederate cavalry officer was seated inside before the empty fire. She looked at him, simulating dull surprise ”

“ She laid one stained hand over the other, fingers still wide. "But here in this blackened horror they call the 'seat of war'—this festering bull-pen, choked with dreary regiments, all alike, all in filthy blue—here individuals vanish, men vanish. ”

“ Their mystery remains—the glamour of a man remains for me—because he is a man."
"I have heard them crying like children in the stretchers."
"So have I. That solves nothing."
But the Nursre went on:
"And in the wards they are sometimes something betwixt devils and children. All the weakness and failings they attribute to women come out in them, too—fear, timidity, inconsequence. greed, malice, gossip! I tell you, women bear pain better." ”