But all his calculations were upset by a very ****** thing, one of Nature's commonest occurrences--rain. The heavy clouds that had gathered early in the night were gone away merely for a time. Now they came back in battalions, heavier and more numerous than ever. The shining moon and the brilliant stars were blotted out as if they had never been. A strong wind moaned and a cold rain came pouring into his face. The blanket that he carried on his saddle, and which he now wrapped around him, could not protect him. The fierce rain drove through it and he was soaked and shivering. The darkness, too, was so great that he could see only a few yards before him, and he let the horse take his course.
Harry thought grimly that he was indeed well hidden in the forest.
He was so well hidden that he was lost even to himself. In all that darkness and rain he could not retain the sense of direction, and he had no idea where he was. He rambled about for hours, now and then trying to find shelter behind massive tree trunks, and, after every failure, going on in the direction in which he thought Washington lay. His shivering became so strong that he was afraid it would turn into a real chill, and he resolved to seek a roof, if the forest should hold such a thing.
It was nearly dawn when he saw dimly the outlines of a cabin standing in a tiny clearing. He believed it to be the hut of a charcoal burner, and he was resolved to take any risk for the sake of its roof. He dismounted and beat heavily upon the door with the butt of a pistol.
The answer was so long in coming that he began to believe the hut was empty, which would serve his purpose best of all, but at last a voice, thick with sleep, called: "Who's there?""I'm lost and I need shelter," Harry replied.
"Wait a minute," returned the voice.
Harry, despite the beat of the rain, heard a shuffling inside, and then, through a crack in the door, he saw a light spring up. He hoped the owner of the voice would hurry. The rain seemed to be beating harder than ever upon him and the cold was in his bones. Then the door was thrown back suddenly and an uncommonly sharp voice shouted:
"Drop the reins! Throw up your hands an' walk in, where I kin see what you are!"Harry found himself looking into the muzzle of an old-fashioned long-barreled rifle. But the hammer was cocked, and it was held by a pair of large, calloused, and steady hands, belonging to a tall, thin man with powerful shoulders and a bearded face.
There was no help for it. The boy dropped the reins, raised his hands over his head and walked into the hut, where the rain at least did not reach him. It was a rude place of a single room, with a fire-place at one end, a bed in a corner, a small pine table on which a candle burned, and clothing and dried herbs hanging from hooks on the wall. The man wore only a shirt and trousers, and he looked unkempt and wild, but he was a resolute figure.
"Stand over thar, close to the light, whar I kin see you," he said.
Harry moved over, and the muzzle of the rifle followed him. The man could look down the sights of his rifle and at the same time examine his visitor, which he did with thoroughness.
"Now, then, Johnny Reb," he said, "what are you doin' here this time o' night an' in such weather as this, wakin' honest citizens out o' their beds?""Nothing but stand before the muzzle of your rifle."The man grinned. The answer seemed to appeal to him, and he lowered the weapon, although he did not relax his watchfulness.
"I got the drop on you, Johnny Reb; you're boun' to admit that," he said. "You didn't ketch Seth Perkins nappin'.""I admit it. But why do you call me Johnny Reb?""Because that's what you are. You can't tell much about the color of a man's coat after it's been through sech a big rain, but I know yourn is gray. I ain't takin' no part in this war. They've got to fight it as best they kin without me. I'm jest an innercent charcoal burner, 'bout the most innercent that ever lived, I guess, but atween you an' me, Johnny Reb, my feelin's lean the way my state, Old Virginny, leans, that is, to the South, which I reckon is lucky fur you."Harry saw that the man had blue eyes and he saw, too, that they were twinkling. He knew with infallible instinct that he was honest and truthful.
"It's true," he said. "I'm a Southern soldier, and I'm in your hands.""I see that you trust me, an' I think I kin trust you. Jest you wait 'til I put that hoss o' yourn in the lean-to behind the cabin."He darted out of the door and returned in a minute shaking the water from his body.
"That hoss feels better already," he said, "an' you will, too, soon.
Now, I shet this door, then I kindle up the fire ag'in, then you take off your clothes an' put them an' yo'self afore the blaze. In time you an' your clothes are all dry."The man's manner was all kindness, and the poor little cabin had become a palace. He blew at the coals, threw on dry pine knots, and in a few minutes the flames roared up the chimney.
Harry took off his wet clothing, hung it on two cane chairs before the fire and then proceeded to roast himself. Warmth poured back into his body and the cold left his bones. Despite his remonstrances, Perkins took a pot out of his cupboard and made coffee. Harry drank two cups of it, and he knew now that the danger of chill, to be followed by fever, was gone.
"Mr. Perkins," he said at length, "you are an angel."Perkins laughed.
"Mebbe I air," he said, "but I 'low I don't look like one. Guess ef Iwent up an' tried to j'in the real angels Gabriel would say, 'Go back, Seth Perkins, an' improve yo'self fur four or five thousand years afore you try to keep comp'ny like ours.' But now, Johnny Reb, sence you're feelin' a heap better you might tell what you wuz tryin' to do, prowlin' roun' in these woods at sech a time."
"I meant to go behind the Yankee army, see what reinforcements were coming up, find out their plans, if I could, and report to our general."Perkins whistled softly.
