Mohun; Or, the Last Days of Lee and His Paladins.: Final Memoirs of a Staff Officer Serving in Virginia. from the Mss. of Colonel Surry, of Eagle's Nest.Cooke, John Esten
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Mohun; Or, the Last Days of Lee and His Paladins.: Final Memoirs of a Staff Officer Serving in Virginia. from the Mss. of Colonel Surry, of Eagle's Nest.
Cooke, John Esten
United States -- History -- Civil War, 1861-1865 -- Fiction; Virginia -- History -- Civil War, 1861-1865 -- Fiction; War stories
From the black eyes shot a glare of defiance, and advancing upon Mohun,
he delivered a blow at him which nearly shattered his opponent’s sword.
Mohun struck in turn, aiming a furious cut at Darke; but as he did so,
he stumbled over the dead orderly, and nearly fell. For the moment he
was at Darke’s mercy.
I rushed forward, sword in hand, to ward off the mortal stroke which
I was certain his adversary would deliver, but my intervention was
useless.
Darke recoiled from his stumbling adversary, instead of striking at him.
I could scarcely believe my own eyes, but the fact was unmistakable.
Then the Federal colonel looked around, and his eye fell upon the woman.
“Kill him!” she said, coldly. “Do not mind me!--only kill him!”
“No!” growled Darke. And seizing the woman in his arms:--
“They shall not take you prisoner!” he said.
And the swarthy Hercules passed through the door in rear at a single
bound, bearing off the woman like a feather.
A moment afterward the hoof-strokes of a horse were heard.
Darke had disappeared with the gray woman.
I turned to look at Mohun. He was standing perfectly motionless, and
looking after Darke with a strange expression of gloom and astonishment.
“You are unhurt!” I said.
He turned quickly, and held out his hand.
“Slightly wounded--but I am not thinking of that.”
“Of what, then?”
“I remember only one thing--that this man might have buried his sword in
my heart, and did not.”
An hour afterward the skirmish was over; I had explained my presence at
the house to Mohun, parted with him, promising to see him soon again;
and, mounted upon a fresh animal which Mohun presented to me from among
those captured, was once more on my way to Gettysburg.
It was hard to realize that the scenes of the night were actual
occurrences. They were more like dreams than realities.
XXIII.
GETTYSBURG.
I came in sight of Gettysburg at sunrise.
Gettysburg!--name instinct with so many tears, with so much mourning,
with those sobs which tear their way from the human heart as the lava
makes its way from the womb of the volcano!
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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