“Keep by my side,” said Jackson curtly, and the two rode in silence from the camp, watched in wonder by the sentinels, who saw their general and his lone attendant disappear in the forest to the south.
It was then one o’clock in the morning of a moonlight night, and the errand of Jackson was an absolute secret. Three or four miles from the camp a sentinel slipped from the woods and stopped them. He was one of their own pickets, on a far out-lying post, but to the amazement of Harry, Jackson did not tell who he was.
“I’m an officer on Stonewall Jackson’s staff, carrying dispatches,” he said. “You must let me pass.”
“It’s not enough. Show me an order from him.”
“I have no order,” replied the equable voice, “but my dispatches are of the greatest importance. Kindly let me pass immediately.”
The sentinel shook his head.
“Draw back your horses,” he said. “Without an order from the general you don’t go a step further.”
Harry had not spoken a word. He had ceased to wonder why Jackson refused to reveal his identity. If he did not do so it must be for some excellent reason, and, meanwhile, the boy waited placidly.
“So you won’t let us pass,” said Jackson. “Is the commander of the picket near by?”
“I can whistle so he’ll hear me.”
“Then will you kindly whistle?”
The sentinel looked again at the quiet man on the horse, put his fingers to his lips and blew loudly. An officer emerged from the woods and said:
“What is it, Felton?”
Then he glanced at the man on the horse and started violently.
“General Jackson!” he exclaimed.
The sentinel turned pale, but said nothing.
“Yes, I’m General Jackson,” said the general, “and I ride with this lieutenant of my staff on an errand. But both of you must swear to me that you have not seen me.”
Then he turned to the sentinel.
“You did right to stop us,” he said. “I wish that all our sentinels were as faithful as you.”
Then while the man glowed with gratitude, he and Harry rode on. Jackson was in deep thought and did not speak. Harry, a little awed by this strange ride, looked up at the trees and the dusky heavens. He heard the far hoot of an owl, and he shivered a little. What if a troop of Northern cavalry should suddenly burst upon them. But no troop of the Northern horse, nor horse of any kind, appeared. Instead, Jackson’s own horse began to pant and stumble. Soon he gave out entirely.
It was not yet day, but dimly to the right they saw the roof of a house among some trees. It was a poor Virginia farm that did not have horses on it, and Jackson suggested to Harry that they wake up the people and secure two fresh mounts.
The commander of an army and his young aide walked a little distance down a road, entered a lawn, drove off two barking dogs, and knocked loud on the front door of the house with the butts of their riding whips. A head was at last thrust out of an upper window, and a sleepy and indignant voice demanded what they wanted.
“We’re two officers from General Jackson’s army riding on important duty,” replied the general, in his usual mild tones. “Our horses have broken down and we want to obtain new ones.”
“What’s your names? What’s your rank?” demanded the gruff voice.
“We cannot give our names.”
“Then clear out! You’re frauds! If I find you hanging about here I’ll shoot at you, and I tell you for your good that I’m no bad shot.”
The shutter of the window closed with a bang, but the two dogs that had been driven off began to bark again at a safe distance. Harry glanced at his general.
“Isn’t that a stable among the trees?” asked Jackson.
“Yes, sir.”
“Then we’ll find our horses there. Get the other two and bring them here.”
Harry obeyed promptly, and they opened the stable, finding good horses, of which they selected the two best to which they changed their saddles and bridles.