"You know that we have spent the month of June here, waiting," continued General Beauregard in those soft, persuasive tones, "and that the fighting, what there is of it, has been going on in the mountains to the west. But this state of affairs cannot endure much longer. We have reason to believe that the Northern advance in great force will soon be made, but we wish to know, meanwhile, what is going on behind their lines, what forces are coming down from Washington, what is the state of their defenses, and any other information that you may obtain. If you can get through their lines you can bring us news which may have vital results."He paused and looked thoughtfully at the boy. His manner was that of one conferring a great honor, and the impression upon Harry was strong.
But he remembered. This was the duty of a spy, or something like it.
He recalled Shepard and the risk he ran. Spies die ingloriously.
Yet he might do a great service. Beauregard read his mind.
"We ask you to be a scout, not a spy," he said. "You may ride in your own uniform, and, if you are taken, you will merely be a prisoner of war."Harry's last doubt disappeared.
"I will do my best, sir," he said.
"No one can do more," said Beauregard.
"When do you wish me to start?"
"As soon as you can get ready. How long will that be? Your horse will be provided for you.""In a half hour."
"Good," said Beauregard. "Now, I will leave you with Colonel Talbot, who will give you a few parting instructions."He left the tent, but, as he went, gave Harry a strong clasp of the hand.
"Now, my boy," said Colonel Leonidas Talbot, when they were alone in the tent, "I've but little more to say to you. It is an arduous task that you've undertaken, and one full of danger. You must temper courage with caution. You will be of no use to our cause unless you come back.
And, Harry, you are your father's son; I want to see you come back for your own sake, too. Good-bye, your horse will be waiting."Harry quickly made ready. St. Clair and Langdon, burning with curiosity, besieged him with questions, but he merely replied that he was riding on an errand for Colonel Talbot. He did not know when he would come back, but if it should be a long time they must not forget him.
"A long time?" said St. Clair. "A long time, Harry, means that you've got a dangerous mission. We'll wish you safely through it, old fellow.""And don't forget the charm!" exclaimed Langdon. "Of course I don't believe in such foolishness, I wouldn't think of it for a minute, but, anyway, they don't do any harm. Good-bye and God bless you, Harry.""The same from me, Harry," said St. Clair.
The strong grip of their hands still thrilled his blood as he rode away.
His pass carried him through the Southern lines, and then he went toward the northwest, intending to pass through the hills, and reach the rear of the Northern force. He carried no rifle, and his gray uniform, somewhat faded now, would not attract distant attention. Still, he did not care to be observed even by non-combatants, and he turned his horse into the first stretch of forest that he could reach.
Harry, being young, felt the full importance of his errand, but it was vague in its nature. He was to follow his own judgment and discover what was going on between the Northern army and Washington, no very great distance. When he was well hidden within the forest he stopped and considered. He might meet Federal scouts on errands like his own, but the horse they had given him was a powerful animal, and he had good weapons in his belt. It was Virginia soil, too, and the people, generally, were in sympathy with the South. He relied upon this fact more than upon any other.
