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“Down in Tennessee, when you got away with Lieutenant Haines’s horse so slick.” Calhoun’s face darkened. “Did you have anything to do with the persecution of the Osbornes?” he asked, threateningly. “Not I. That was the blamedest, meanest trick I ever knew Haines to do. But he was dead gone on the girl. I half believe he would have turned Reb if he could have got her.”
As the train slowed up as it entered the suburbs, the General and Calhoun both dropped off without being noticed. Morgan being well acquainted with the city, they quickly made their way to a ferry, and by the time the escape had been discovered at the penitentiary, Morgan’s feet were pressing the soil of Kentucky. Calhoun’s heart thrilled as he once more breathed the air of his native state.
Miss Crawford fretted and fumed, but it did no good. In this Joyce would have her way. Calhoun’s fever had been growing less day by day, and the time came when it left him, and he lay in a quiet and restful slumber. But his breathing was so faint, Joyce was almost afraid it was the sleep which precedes death. It was near the close of an August day.
I am rejoiced to hear it. It was reported he was among the slain.” “He was desperately wounded,” answered Calhoun, “but he did not die, and he is now a prisoner in the hands of the Yankees. Uncle Dick is a hero; but as for that traitor cousin of mine, I hate him!” and again Calhoun’s brow grew dark. “I have no reason to love him,” laughed Morgan, “but I cannot help admiring him.
This lady was absent in Steubenville when Morgan appeared so suddenly in the county; thus at the time of Calhoun’s appearance only Joyce and the servants were at home, Mr. Crawford being absent in the east on duties connected with the Sanitary Commission. Mr. Crawford was what is known as an original Abolitionist.
Forcing his way through the throng, he got out of the building as soon as possible. It was well that he did so, for hardly had the Governor let go Calhoun’s hand, when he motioned to General Carrington, and whispered to him: “Arrest that young man. Do it as quietly as possible, but see he does not get away. He is the Southern officer we have been looking for, I am sure.
“Can ye tie a true hangman’s knot, Jack?” asked Red of the villain who was adjusting the rope around Calhoun’s neck. “That I can, Red,” he answered, with a chuckling laugh. “It’s as neat a job as eny sheriff can do.” The sun had just sunk to rest; the gloom of night was settling over the forest. Calhoun saw the shadows thicken among the trees. The darkness of death would soon be upon him.
There was no recognition; instead a testy, “Why don’t you go?” Calhoun’s face flamed with anger, but controlling himself, he replied: “When you receive some mail from the South, you may find some dispatches from General Forrest which will cause you to treat me differently. If such dispatches come, be here in your office at nine o’clock to-night.”
They believed that if an opportunity were presented the Knights would rise almost to a man at the call of their leaders. Breckinridge and Morgan held an earnest consultation. Morgan was greatly disappointed over Calhoun’s report, for he had set his heart on making a raid into Indiana and Ohio.
Calhoun’s heart gave a great bound, for he knew that no Southern woman would betray him, and he stepped out from his place of concealment and stood in plain view by the side of the road. When the rider saw him she gave a start of surprise, and then reined in her horse with such ease and grace as to charm him. He saw at a glance she was young and exceedingly beautiful.
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