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PAGE 7

The Raid Of The Guerilla
by [?]

The whole effect was concentrated in the face of the leader, obviously the inspiration of the organization, the vital spark by which it lived; a fierce face, intent, commanding. It was burned to a brick-red, and had an aquiline nose and a keen gray-green eagle-like eye; on either side auburn hair, thick and slightly curling, hung, after the fashion of the time, to his coat collar. And this collar and his shoulders were decorated with gold lace and the insignia of rank; the uniform was of fine Confederate gray, which seemed to contradict the general impression that he was but a free-lance or a bushwhacker and operated on his own responsibility. The impression increased the terror his name excited throughout the countryside with his high-handed and eccentric methods of warfare, and perhaps he would not have resented it if he were cognizant of its general acceptance.

It was a look calculated to inspire awe which he flung upon the cowering figures before the door of the forge as he suddenly perceived them; and detaching himself from the advancing troop, he spurred his horse toward them. He came up like a whirlwind.

That impetuous gallop could scarcely have carried his charger over the building itself, yet there is nothing so overwhelming to the nerves as the approaching rush of a speedy horse, and the group flattened themselves against the wall; but he drew rein before he reached the door, and whirling in the saddle, with one hand on the horse’s back, he demanded:

“Where is he? Bring him out!” as if all the world knew the object of his search and the righteous reason of his enmity. “Bring him out! I’ll have a drumhead court martial–and he’ll swing before sunset!”

“Good evenin’, Cap’n,” the old miller sought what influence might appertain to polite address and the social graces.

“Evenin’ be damned!” cried Ackert, angrily. “If you folks in the coves want the immunity of non-combatants, by Gawd! you gotter preserve the neutrality of non-combatants!”

“Yessir–that’s reason–that’s jestice,” said the old squire, hastily, whose capacities of ratiocination had been cultivated by the exercise of the judicial functions of his modest piepoudre court.

Ackert unwillingly cast his eagle eye down upon the cringing old man, as if he would rather welcome contradiction than assent.

“It’s accordin’ to the articles o’ war and the law of nations,” he averred. “People take advantage of age and disability”–he glanced at the blacksmith, whose left hand mechanically grasped the stump of his right arm–“as if that could protect ’em in acts o’ treason an’ treachery;” then with a blast of impatience, “Where’s the man?”

To remonstrate with a whirlwind, to explain to a flash of lightning, to soothe and propitiate the fury of a conflagration–the task before the primitive and inexpert Cove-dwellers seemed to partake of this nature.

“Cap’n–ef ye’d listen ter what I gotter say,” began the miller.

“I’ll listen arterward!” exclaimed Ackert, in his clarion voice. He had never heard of Jedburgh justice, but he had all the sentiment of that famous tribunal who hanged the prisoners first and tried them afterward.

“Cap’n,” remonstrated the blacksmith, breaking in with hot haste, hurried by the commander’s gusts of impatience, forgetful that he had no need to be precipitate, since he could not produce the recusant if he would. “Cap’n–Cap’n–bear with us–we-uns don’t know!”

Ackert stared in snorting amaze, a flush of anger dyeing his red cheeks a yet deeper red. Of all the subterfuges that he had expected, he had never divined this. He shifted front face in his saddle, placed his gauntleted right hand on his right side, and held his head erect, looking over the wide, rich expanse of the Cove, the corn in the field, and the fodder in the shock set amid the barbaric splendors of the wooded autumn mountains glowing in the sunset above. He seemed scenting his vengeance with some keen sense as he looked, his thin nostrils dilating as sensitively as the nostrils of his high-couraged charger now throwing up his head to sniff the air, now bending it down as he pawed the ground.