The Young Lieutenant; or, The Adventures of an Army Officer

by Oliver Optic

  CHAPTER XXI

  THE THIRD TENNESSEE

  Probably there was no one in either party who was so thoroughlybewildered by the incident which had just transpired as Captain Somers.The mystery of his companion's antecedents was in a fair way to becleared up, though in a very unsatisfactory manner to those mostintimately concerned. The conversation, and the verification of the rebelofficer's statements, showed that De Banyan was not De Banyan; that thebrave and brilliant Federal officer was not a Federal officer; that, ofall he had been, only the "brave" and "brilliant" remained.

  It was painfully evident that the bold and dashing captain was, or hadbeen, a rebel officer. Somers was terribly shocked at the discovery, evenwhile it was a satisfaction to have the mystery of his companion'sprevious life explained. For the time, he forgot the perils of his ownsituation in the interest he felt in the affairs of his friend. PerhapsDe Banyan was a spy, who had been serving in the Union army for thepurpose of conveying information to the enemy. He had been very glad ofthe opportunity to cross the river; and it seemed probable to our herothat he wished to return to his friends. It is true, the efficientservices of the captain in the Army of the Potomac, his readiness at alltimes to fight the rebels, and especially his shooting down the enemy'spickets in the swamp, were not exactly consistent with such a record; butperhaps he had done these things to keep up appearances, and thus enablehim the better to promote the objects of the rebellion.

  He was anxious to hear the captain's explanation of these gross charges;but, of course, that was utterly impracticable at present. In themeantime, there was no room to doubt that the cavalry officer had all thetruth on his side. He had hinted very strongly that De Banyan was adeserter; but he might have deserted for the purpose of performing thespecial duty which had been assigned to him. Officers and soldiers, sentout as spies, had often incurred the odium of such a reputation, in orderto keep their own counsels, and serve their country the more faithfully.

  If Captain de Banyan was a deserter in appearance only, he would, ofcourse, soon be able to make his fidelity and patriotism apparent to therebel authorities; and being a patriot, in the traitor use of the word,he could not do less than denounce his companion as a Federal spy.Whatever turn the affair might take, Somers felt that his own chances ofescape were every moment becoming beautifully less. If De Banyan was afaithful rebel, there was proof positive that his companion was a spy; ifnot, he was in the company of a deserter, and would be subjected to allmanner of suspicion.

  De Banyan still held his head up, and did not lose his impudence, evenafter the letters had been found upon his arm. He did not appear to be atall confused by the discovery and the triumph of the cavalry officer'sargument. He punched Somers in the side with his elbow; but the latterwas unable to divine the significance of this movement.

  "Well, Barney, I wish somebody else had caught you instead of me; for itis not pleasant to find an old friend under such circumstances."

  "If you please, captain, I haven't the pleasure of knowing your name."

  "Come, Barney, don't keep up this farce any longer."

  "I was about to beg the favor, that you would not call me by thatoffensive name any longer."

  "You seem to be changing your colors very rapidly," laughed the officer."When I first saw you, you were a rough-spoken fellow; but now you usethe language of a polished gentleman. Barney, you and I were good friendsin the Third Tennessee; and, though I am sorry to meet you under thesecircumstances, we must both make the best of it."

  "I tell you, captain, you are entirely mistaken in your man. I never wasin Tennessee in my life."

  "Good! You were always celebrated for monstrous stories; and they arefully in keeping with your past history. Well, since you refuse torecognize an old friend, of course I shall be excused for any unpleasantmeasures to which I may be compelled to resort."

  "Anything you please, captain, so long as you refrain from calling meBarney, which in my estimation is a low and vulgar cognomen, that I amunwilling to have applied to me."

  "Who is the man with you?" demanded the officer in more business-liketones.

  "His name is Tom Leathers; he's a pilot on the James. We refer you toCaptain Osborn for evidence of our character. We came here to do a jobfor him."

  "All right, then. Captain Osborn lodges at the next house on this road,and we will let him speak for the other man. He can't speak for you; forI know you better than he does, or any other man who has not served inthe Third Tennessee. As you were going this way, you can walk along withus."

  "Thank you for the polite invitation, and this is a handsome escort for aman of my humble pretensions."

  The captain of the company ordered his men to keep back, and Somers andDe Banyan walked by the side of his horse, a few yards in advance of theplatoons. He had evidently adopted this method to draw out his prisoners;for as such our officers were compelled to regard themselves.

  "Marvel, you used to be a very sensible fellow when you were in the ThirdTennessee," said the rebel captain. "I am surprised to see you adoptingsuch a stupid method to conceal your identity."

  "I had good reasons for it," replied De Banyan, casting his eyes behindhim, as if to assure himself that none of the soldiers were withinhearing.

  "What reasons?" asked the officer curiously.

  "I should think a man of your discretion would easily understand thereason, without any explanation. If I am to be tried for any offense, Idon't want to be judged by a whole company of cavalry. You know I alwaystook pride in my reputation."

  "I used to think so; but, when we missed you one day, we got rid of thatopinion in the Third Tennessee."

  "Then you wronged me; for I have faithfully served my country from thatday to this."

  "I am glad to hear it, and I hope you will be able to prove what you havesaid. How came you here?"

  "I came over from the other side of the river last night. You intimatedthat my departure from the Third was not all regular," added the captain.

  "In a word, it was understood that you had deserted."

  "That was a mistake."

  "I am very glad to hear it; but you will remember that your loyalty tothe Southern Confederacy was not above suspicion when you joined theregiment."

  De Banyan punched Somers with his elbow at these words, as though hewished him to take particular notice of them; but his admiring friendneeded no such admonition to induce him to give strict attention to thestatement, for it was the most satisfactory remark he had heard duringthe interview. Captain de Banyan rose twenty-five per cent in hisestimation at the utterance of those words, however injurious they werein the opinion of him who had spoken them. There was hope for thecaptain; and Somers trusted that he would be able fully to exoneratehimself from the foul charge, when the occasion should permit such anexposition.

  "My loyalty ought to be considered above suspicion, and those who know mebest do so regard it," added De Banyan as he administered another mildpunch on the ribs of his fellow-sufferer. "I was taken by the Yankees, inshort; and, at the first convenient opportunity, I have come over to seeyou again."

  "I hope it is all right, Barney; but I am afraid it is not."

  "I shall be able to clear myself of every imputation of disloyalty,before the proper tribunal."

  "How did you get over?"

  "I have been following the fortunes of the Yankee army till last night;when I took a boat, and came over the river. On the way I met a pilotwhose name was Andy, who turned me over to this man, who is also a pilot,and came down to take out a fire-ship."

  "The one that was burned in the creek last night?"

  "The same. I refer you to Captain Osborn for the truth of the last partof my statement; though the time was when you did not ask me to bringvouchers for what I said."

  "For nothing, except your stories of the Crimea and the Italian war,"replied the captain of cavalry with a significant smile. "I must do youthe justice to say, that I never knew you to tell a falsehood on anymatter connected with your s
ocial or business relations."

  "Thank you for so much," replied De Banyan. "Now that I have made it allright, I suppose you needn't trouble yourself to attend to my affairs anyfurther."

  "No trouble at all, I assure you. Under the circumstances, I shall feelit my duty to deliver you into the hands of my superiors, and they can doas they please with you. But I sincerely hope that you will be able tovindicate your character from the stain which rests upon it."

  "I don't think it needs any vindication."

  "There is some difference of opinion between us on that point. Where areyou going now?"

  "To Richmond," replied De Banyan promptly; and perhaps he intended to gothere with the Army of the Potomac, though its present prospects ofreaching the rebel capital were not very favorable.

  "This is not the way to Richmond. Your stories don't agree very well."

  "I thought it was; or rather to Petersburg, and from there we expected toget a ride up in the cars."

  "Oh, very well! I can procure you a pass to Richmond," added the rebel.

  "And an escort to attend us, I suppose," replied De Banyan with a smile.

  "A small one; but here is the house where Captain Osborn lodges. If heknows your friend here, and can vouch for his loyalty, all well; if not,we shall not part two such loving friends."

  Captain Osborn had not risen when the company of cavalry reached hisquarters; but he was called from his bed, and appeared in front of thehouse in the worst possible humor; for, being human, he did not like tohave his slumbers disturbed by unseasonable calls. As Somers fearedCaptain Osborn denied all knowledge of the prisoners, except so far asrelated to his interview with them during the night. He had never seeneither of them before; and he even took the trouble to add that he didn'tbelieve the young fellow was a pilot, which was gratuitous and uncalledfor on his part.

  "Well, Marvel," added the cavalry officer rather coldly, "this businessis settled very much as I supposed it would be. I shall have to send youup to Richmond, where, if your stories are all true, I doubt not you willbe able to clear yourself."

  "Thank you, captain. You are the same affectionate fellow you used to bewhen you were a lieutenant in the Third Tennessee," replied De Banyanwith a sneer; for it was evident that he was not at all pleased with theresult of the affair.

  Four soldiers were detailed from the company to conduct the prisoners toa certain camp near the railroad at City Point, and there deliver themover to the keeping of an officer whose name was mentioned.

  "Good-morning, captain," said De Banyan with forced gayety.

  "Good-morning, Marvel, and success to you."

  "Thank you."

  "By the way, Barney, if there is anything I can do for you, don't fail tocall upon me; that is, anything consistent with the duty of a faithfulofficer."

  "Such a remark was entirely uncalled for," said De Banyan with dignity."Do you think I would ask an officer to sacrifice his conscience?"

  "Excuse me, Barney. I meant no offense," added the rebel captain, touchedby the proud and dignified manner of his former friend.

  "Your words and your conduct are in keeping with each other."

  "Really, Barney, I meant nothing by the remark."

  "Then it was the more unmanly to make it."

  "I am still your friend. In proof of it, permit me to do you a favor,"pleaded the rebel, much concerned at the wound he had inflicted on thesensitive nature of his late associate in the Third Tennessee.

  "I ask no favors," answered De Banyan proudly.

  "You are too hard upon me. Upon my word, I meant no offense. As a proofof my friendship, I will take your parole of honor not to escape, and youshall report at Richmond at your own pleasure. If you have any interestin this young man, I will allow him the same favor."

  "After what has happened, I cannot accept a favor at your hands. I can'tsee how an officer who doubts my word should be willing to take myparole."

  "As you please, Marvel," added the captain petulantly. "I can do no morefor you."

  Somers was greatly relieved when the rebel officer rode off, followed byhis company. He had trembled with anxiety, when the parole was offered toDe Banyan, lest he should accept it, and thus compel him to do the same.Although he could not see how it was to be brought about, he intended toescape from the hands of his captors at the first convenient opportunity,with or without De Banyan, as the case should demand.

  One of the four troopers detailed to guard the prisoners was a sergeant,who intimated to them that they might take up the line of march for thecamp where they were bound. To preclude the possibility of an escape, heordered two of his men to ride ahead of the captives, while himself andthe other followed in the rear. The little procession moved off; andthere was never a sadder-hearted young man than Somers, who, were histrue character discovered, was liable to the pains and penalties of beinga spy.

  "Sergeant, have you been to breakfast?" demanded De Banyan, after theyhad walked a couple of miles, and were passing a farm-house.

  "No, sir."

  "I smell fried bacon, and am willing to pay for breakfast for the wholeparty. What do you say?"

  "There is nothing in my orders to prevent me from taking up your offer;and I will do it, if you will agree not to run away while we are at thehouse," replied the prudent soldier.

  "How shall we run away, with four men watching us?" demanded De Banyan.

  The sergeant seemed to be satisfied with this argument; and they enteredthe house, where breakfast was soon in preparation for them.