the red acorn-第42节

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The　sight　of　an　orderly；　coming　with　the　morning　mail；　ended　the　discussion　by　scattering　the　squad　in　a　hurry。

Rachel　cantered　on；　her　spirits　rising　continually。

It　was　a　bright；　crisp　morninga　Tennessee　Winter　morningwhen　the　air　is　as　wine　to　the　blood；　and　sets　every　pulse　to　leaping。　Delicate　balsamic　scents　floated　down　from　groves　of　shapely　cedars。　Gratefully…astringent　odors　were　wafted　from　the　red　oaks；　ranked　upon　the　hillsides　and　still　covered　with　their　leaves；　now　turned　bright…brown；　making　them　appear　like　serried　phalanges　of　giant　knights；　clad　in　rusted　scale　armor。　　The　spicy　smell　of　burning　cedar　rose　on　the　lazily…curling　smoke　from　a　thousand　camp…fires。　The　red…berried　holly　looked　as　fresh　and　bright　as　rose…bushes　in　June；　and　the　　magnolias　still　wore　their　liveries　of　Spring。　　The　sun　shone　down　with　a　tender　fervor；　as　if　wooing　the　sleeping　buds　and　flowers　to　wake　from　a　slumber　of　which　he　had　grown　weary；　and　start　with　him　again　through　primrose　paths　on　the　pilgrimage　of　blossoming　and　fruitage。

Rachel's　nostrils　expanded；　and　she　drank　deeply　of　the　exhilarating　draughts　of　mountain　air；　with　its　delicious　woodsy　fragrance。　Her　steed　did　the　same；　and　the　hearts　of　both　swelled　with　the　inspiration。

Away　she　sped　over　the　firm；　smooth　Murfreesboro　Pike；　winding　around　hillsides　and　through　valleys　filled　with　infantry；　cavalry　and　artillery；　through　interminable　masses　of　wagons；　hers　of　braying　mules；　and　crowds　of　unarmed　soldiers　trudging　back　to　Nashville；　on　leave　of　absence；　to　spend　the　day　seeing　the　sights　of　the　historic　Tennessee　capital。　　In　the　camps　the　soldiers　were　busy　with　evergreen　and　bunting；　and　the　contents　of　boxes　received　from　the　North；　preparing　for　the　celebration　of　Christmas　in　something　like　the　manner　of　the　old　days　of　home　and　peace。

Like　the　sweet　perfume　of　rose…attar　from　a　bundle　of　letters　unwittingly　stirred　in　a　drawer；　rose　the　fragrant　memory　of　the　last　of　those　Christmases　in　Sardis　before　the　war；　when　winged　on　he　scent　of　evergreens；　and　the　merry　laughter　of　the　church　decorators；　came　to　her　the　knowledge　that　she　had　found　a　lodgment　in　the　heart　of　Harry　Glen。

Was　memory　juggling　with　her　senses；　or　was　that　really　his　voice　she　heard　in　command；　in　a　field　to　her　left？　　She　turned　a　swift；　startled　look　in　that　direction；　and　saw　a　Sergeant　marching　a　large　squad　at　quick　time　to　join　a　heavy　〃detail。〃　　His　back　was　toward　her；　but　his　figure　and　bodily　carriage　were　certainly　those　of　Harry　Glen。　　But　before　she　could　make　certain　the　squad　was　merged　with　the　〃detail；〃　to　the　obliteration　of　all　individuality；　and　the　whole　mass　disappeared　around　the　hill。

She　rode　on　to　the　top　of　the　rim　of　hills　which　encircle　that　most　picturesque　of　Southern　cities；　and　stopped　for　a　moment　for　a　farewell　to　the　stronghold　of　her　friends；　whose　friendly　cover　she　was　abandoning　to　venture；　weak　and　weaponless；　into　the　camp　of　her　enemies。

Above　her　the　great　black　guns　of　a　heavy　fort　pointed　their　sinister　muzzles　down　the　Murfreesboro　road；　with　fearful　suggestiveness　of　the　dangers　to　be　encountered　there。

She　remembered　Lot's　wife；　but　could　not　resist　the　temptation　to　take　a　one　backward　look。　　She　saw　as　grand　a　landscape　picture　as　the　world　affords。

Serenely　throned　upon　the　hill　that　dominated　the　whole　of　the　lovely　valley　of　the　Cumberland；　stood　the　beautiful　Capitol　of　Tennessee。

Ionic　porticos　and　graceful　Corinthian　columns　of　dazzling　white　limestone　rose　hundreds　of　feet　above　the　fountains　and　magnolia…shaded　terraces　that　crowned　the　hillstill　more　hundreds　of　feet　above　the　densely　packed　roofs　and　spires　of　the　city　crowded　upon　the　hill's　rocky　sides。　　It　was　like　some　fine　and　pure　old　Greek　temple；　standing　on　a　romantic　headland；　far　above　the　murk　and　toil　of　sordid　striving。　　But　over　the　symmetrical　pile　floated　a　banner　that　meant　to　the　world　all　that　was　signified　even　by　the　banners　which　Greece　folded　and　laid　away　in　eternal　rest　thousands　of　years　ago。

At　the　foot　of　the　hill　the　Cumberland；　clear　as　when　it　descended　from　its　mountains　five　hundred　miles　away；　flowed　between　its　high；　straight　walls　of　limestone；　spanned　by　cobweb…like　bridges；　and　bore　on　its　untroubled　breast　a　great　fleet　of　high…chimneyed；　white…sided　transports；　and　black；　sullen　gunboats。　　Miles　away　to　her　left　she　saw　the　trains　rushing　into　Nashville；　unrolling　as　they　came　along　black　and　white　ribbons　against　the　sky。

〃They're　coming　from　the　North；〃　she　said；　with　an　involuntary　sigh；　〃they're　coming　from　home。〃

She　touched　her　mare's　flank　with　the　whip　and　sped　on。

She　soon　reached　the　outer　line　of　guards；　by　whom　she　was　halted；　with　a　demand　for　her　pass。

She　produced　the　one　furnished　her；　which　was　signed　by　Gen。　Rosencrans。　　While　the　Sergeant　was　inspecting　it　it　occured　to　her　that　now　was　the　time　to　begin　the　role　of　a　young　woman　with　rebellious　proclivities。

〃Is　this　the　last　guard…line　I　will　have　to　pass？〃　she　asked。

〃Yes'm；〃　answered　the　Sergeant。

〃You're　quite　sure？〃

〃Yes'm。〃

〃Then　I　won't　have　any　further　use　for　thisthing？〃　indicating　the　pass；　which　she　received　back　with　fine　loathing；　as　if　it　were　something　infectious。

〃No'm。〃

〃Quite　sure？〃

〃Yes'm；　quite　sure。〃

She　rode　over　to　the　fire　around　which　part　of　the　guard　were　sitting；　held　the　pass　over　it　by　the　extremest　tips　of　her　dainty　thumb　and　forefinger；　and　then　dropped　it　upon　the　coals；　as　if　it　were　a　rag　from　a　small…pox　hospital。　　Glancing　at　her　finger…tips　an　instant；　as　if　they　had　been　permanently　contaminated　by　the　scrawl　of　the　Yankee　General；　she　touched　her　nag；　and　was　off　like　an　arrow　without　so　much　as　good　day　to　the　guards。

〃She…ceshclean　to　her　blessed　little　toe…nails；〃　said　the　Sergeant；　gazing　after　her　meditatively；　as　he　fished　around　in　his　pouch　for　a　handful　of　Kinnikinnick；　to　replenish　his　pipe；　〃and　she's　purtier'n　a　picture；　too。〃

〃Them's　the　kind　that's　always　the　wust　Rebels；〃　said　the　oracle　of　the　squad；　from　his　seat　by　the　fire。　　〃I'll　bet　she's　just　loaded　down　with　information　or　ouinine。　　Mebbe　both。〃

She　was　now　fairly　in　the　enemy's　country；　and　her　heart　beat　faster　in　momentary　expectation　of　encountering　some　form　of　the　perils　abounding　there。　　But　she　became　calm；　almost　joyous；　as　she　passed　through　mile　after　mile　of　tranquil　landscape。　　The　war　might　as　well　have　been　on　the　other　side　of　the　Atlantic　for　any　hint　she　now　saw　of　it　in　the　peaceful；　sun…lit　fields　and　woods；　and　streams　of　crystal　spring…water。　　She　saw　women　busily　engaged　in　their　morning　work　about　all　the　cabins　and　houses。　　With　bare　and　sinewy　arms　they　beat　up　and　down　in　tiresomely　monotonous　stroke　the　long…handled　dashers　of　cedar　churns　standing　in　the　wide；　open　〃entries〃　of　the　〃double…houses；〃　they　arrayed　their　well…scalded　milk　crocks　and　jars　where　the　sun's　rays　would　still　further　sweeten　them；　they　plied　swift　shuttles　in　the　weaving　sheds；　they　toiled　over　great；　hemispherical　kettles　of　dye…stuffs　or　soap；　swinging　from　poles　over　open　fires　in　the　yard；　they　spread　out　long　webs　of　jeans　and　linen　on　the　grass　to　dry　or　bleach；　and　all　the　while　they　sangsang　the　measured　rhythm　of　familiar　hymns　in　the　high　soprano　of　white　womensang　wild；　plaintive　lyrics　in　the　liquid　contralto　of　negresses。　　Men　were　repairing　fences；　and　doing　other　Winter　work　in　the　fields；　and　from　the　woods　came　the　ringing　staccato　of　choppers。　　She　met　on　the　road　leisurely…traveling　negro　women；　who　louted　low　to　her；　and　then　as　she　passed；　turn　to　gaze　after　her　with　feminine　analysis　and　admiration　for　every　detail　of　her　attire。　　Then　came　〃Uncle　Tom〃　looking　men；　driving　wagons　loaded　with　newly…riven　rails；　breathing　the　virile　pungency　of　freshly…cut　oak。　　Occasionally　an　old　white　man　or　woman　rode　by；　greeting　her　with　a　courteous　〃Howdy？〃

The　serenity　everywhere　intoxicated　her　with　a　half…belief　that　the　terrible　Rebel　army　at　Murfreesboro　was　only　a　nightmare　of　fear…oppressed　brains；　and　in　her　relief　she　was　ready　to　burst　out　in　echo　of　a　triumphant　hymn　ringing　from　a　weaving…shed　at　her　right。

Her　impulse　was　checked　by　seeing　approach　a　figure　harshly　dissonant　to　Arcadian　surroundings。

It　was　a　young　man　riding　a　powerful　roan　horse　at　an　easy　gallop；　and　carrying　in　his　hand；　ready　for　instant　use；　a　16…shooting　Henry　rifle。　　He　was　evidently　a　scout；　but；　as　was　usual　with　that　class；　his　uniform　was　so　equally　made　up　of　blue　and　gray　that　it　was　impossible　to　tell　to　which　side　he　belonged。　　He　reined　up　as　he　saw　Rachel；　and　looked　at　her　for　a　moment　in　a　way　that　chilled　her。　　They　were　now　on　a　lonely　bit　of　road；　out　of　sight　and　hearing　of　any　person　or　house。　　All　a　woman's　fears　rose　up　in　her　heart；　but　she　shut　her　lips　firmly；　and　rode　directly　toward　the　scout。　　Another　thought　seemed　to　enter　his　mind；　he　touched　his　horse　up　with　his　heel；　and　rode　by　her；　saying　courteously：

〃Good　morning；　Miss；〃　but　eyeing　her　intently　as　they　passed。　　She　returned　the　salutation　with　a　firm　voice；　and　rode　onward；　but　at　a　little　distance　could　not　resist　the　temptation　to　turn　and　look　backward。　　To　her　horror　the　scout　ha