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
History
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
the sternest faces relaxed, the sourest personages could not but laugh.
Brave and honest fop! Where are you to-day, _mon garçon_! I wish I could
see you and hear you sing again!
But I am prosing. Riding beside Tom, I was looking down and thinking
of a certain young lady, when an exclamation from my companion made me
raise my head.
“By George! there’s the house, old fellow!”
“The house?”
“Of the famous supper.”
“So it is!”
“And my inamorata, Surry! I wonder if she is still there?”
“Inamorata? What is her other name?”
Tom laughed, and began to sing in his gayest voice,
“Oh, Katy! Katy!
Don’t marry any other;
You’ll break my heart, and kill me dead,
And then be hanged for murder!”
“That is answer enough,” I said, laughing.
“Suppose we go and see if they are still alive,” Tom said, blushing;
“ten minutes will take us to the house.”
In fact, I saw across the fields, embowered in foliage, the hospitable
mansion in which we had eaten the famous supper, on the route to
Pennsylvania.
“It is risky,” I said, hesitating.
“But pleasing,” retorted Tom, with a laugh.
And I saw, from his flushed face, that he had set his heart on the
visit.
That conquered me. I never could refuse Tom Herbert any thing; and we
were soon cantering toward the house.
Leaving our horses in a little grove, near the mansion, in order that
they might not attract the attention of any of the enemy’s vedettes, we
hastened up the steps.
As we reached the door, it opened, and Miss Katy Dare, the heroine of
Tom’s dreams, very nearly precipitated herself into our arms.
“Oh, I am so glad to see you!” she exclaimed, with her auburn ringlets
dancing, her eyes sparkling,--and taking care to look at _me_ as she
uttered the words.
Then a whole bevy of young ladies hastened out to welcome us.
Where had we been? Why were we going back? Could General Stuart intend
to leave them in the Yankee lines again? Oh, no! he could not! He could
not have the heart to! Was he coming to see them? Oh, the sight of gray
uniforms was HEAVENLY!!!
And the young damsels positively overwhelmed me with exclamations and
interrogatories. Eyes danced, lips smiled, cheeks glowed--they hung
around me, and seemed wild with enthusiasm and delight.
Around _me_, I say--for Tom and Miss Katy had accidentally strolled into
a conservatory near at hand. A glass door gave access to it, and they
had “gone to examine the flowers,” the young ladies said, with rapturous
smiles and little nods.
Meanwhile, “the wants of the soldiers” were by no means forgotten. Busy
hands brought in china, silver, and snowy napkins. On the table the
waiter was soon deposited, containing a splendid, miraculous array
of edibles, and these were flanked by decanters containing excellent
home-made wine.
This consumed half an hour--but at last the repast was ready, and one of
the young ladies hastened toward the conservatory, uttering a discreet
little “ahem!” which made her companions laugh.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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