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"It is hard to tell who is winning to-day," returned Larry. "At first I thought the Yankees were in retreat."
"So did I, Larry. Well, we'll know how matters stand by night."
As they came in sight of our hero's home a Federal battery dashed into sight, drawn by horses covered with foam. The battery was followed by a regiment of infantry.
"Colonel Stanton's regiment!" cried Jack.
"They are in retreat!" answered Larry. "Look! our soldiers are coming down the hill after them like mad!"
"There is Colonel Stanton on horseback," went on Jack, straining his eyes. "What a fine figure he cuts!"
"Ba, Jack! how can you say that of a Yankee? I have half a mind to shoot him."
As Larry spoke he raised his gun, but Jack pulled it down.
"Don't, Larry!"
"Why not? We are at war, and he is our enemy."
"I know, but----"
"But what? Are you too tender-hearted to be a real soldier?"
"It isn't that, Larry. Colonel Stanton is such a fine man----"
"Those Yankees killed Colonel Ruthven, don't forget that," went on Larry earnestly. "We ought to bring down every one of them--if we can."
"Perhaps, but I would like to see Colonel Stanton spared--I cannot tell why."
On swept the soldiers, and for the moment the Federals were hidden by the smoke of gun fire. Then, as they reappeared, Jack set up a cry, half of alarm.
"What is it?" queried Larry.
"Colonel Stanton is shot!"
"Shot? You are sure?"
"Yes. See, he has fallen over the neck of his horse and several soldiers are running toward him. How sad! I wonder if he is dead?"
"If he is, it but serves him right, Jack."
"Perhaps; but I hope he isn't dead," answered Jack, with a peculiar look in his anxious face. As the Federal colonel disappeared from view he gave something of a groan, he could not tell why.
CHAPTER XXII.
AFTER THE BATTLE.
The Federal battery had gained a hill behind the Ruthven plantation, and from this point began to fire rapidly at the advancing Confederates.
Shot and sh.e.l.l sped over the homestead, and the inmates were, consequently, much alarmed.
"We will do well if we escape this murderous fire," said Mrs. Alice Ruthven to Marion.
"I wish Jack was here," answered the girl. "Where can he be keeping himself?"
"He remained behind to protect the property in town."
The tide of battle grew fiercer, and presently, just as Marion had gone to the kitchen to get something for the invalid soldiers, a heavy shot pa.s.sed through the sitting room of the house, tearing down the plaster of two walls and damaging much of the furniture.
Of course all in the mansion were much alarmed. The negroes, especially, were panic-stricken, and ran forth in all directions.
"We is gwine ter be murdered," shrieked one. "Da is gwine ter shoot us all ter pieces!"
"Marion, are you hurt?" came from Mrs. Ruthven, who was in the front hallway at the time.
"No, mother. Were you hit?"
"No, Marion."
"Where did the shot strike?"
"Through the sitting room, I believe."
Both ran to investigate, and in the sitting room a sight met their gaze calculated to stun the stoutest heart.
Plaster and splinters lay in all directions, and the wounded soldiers were crying for aid and for mercy, thinking the enemy close at hand.
Under a ma.s.s of wreckage on the floor lay George Walden, senseless, and with the blood flowing from a wound in his temple.
"Oh, Mr. Walden is hurt, mamma!" shrieked Marion, and ran to raise him up.
They carried the wounded soldier to another part of the house and laid him on a fresh cot. Then, while Marion cared for him, Mrs. Ruthven went back to aid the others. In the meantime Old Ben was instructed to hoist the hospital flag to a higher point on the mansion.
The shot appeared to be about the last fired in that vicinity, and soon the shooting came from a distance, as Federals and Confederates withdrew in the direction of the mountains.
"Mother! Marion! are you safe?" It was the cry from Jack as he came up, almost out of breath from running.
"Yes, thank Heaven, we are safe so far," answered Mrs. Ruthven. "Where have you been--at the town?"
"No, I was over to St. John's place," answered our hero, and in a few words told about the fire.
"We, too, have suffered," said Mrs. Ruthven. "A solid shot pa.s.sed through the sitting room."
"Did it hurt anybody?"