Cloverdale Union High School - Spectator Yearbook (Cloverdale, CA)

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I am completely exhausted. Unless you show me a place to hide they will take and hang me. Wont you help me? At this appeal, all her fierce resolves against the Yankees melted. Ah! for the fickleness of woman. 4 ‘I pity you.” she said moving nearer, “I would like to help you, but oh! how can I ? It would be betraying my country to let you escape with the plans of our fortifications. She paused irresolute. lie had risen and stood with head bent, too proud to beg further. After a moment’s thought, Marjory’s face brightened, she spoke earnestly. “I will help you, if you will give your word of honor not to use the information you gained in the Confederate fort.” “Would you trust the word of a perfect stranger?” he said, a look of surprise and pleasure crossing his worn face. 4 Wes,” she replied, “something tells me you will keep your word.” “But I can’t give the promise you ask. I have sworn to die if necessary for my country. It would be breaking that oath to do as you wish. I would be unworthy the trust you place in me if I did. No! I must try and struggle on. If I escape I shall re¬ member your wish to help me. If I am taken, my last thought will be of your kindness.” Their conversation was at this moment interrupted by a crashing in the bushes a hundred yards or so away. Captain Lane started and turned hurriedly to run in the other direction. He was interrupted by Marjory speaking in a determined voice. “I cannot let you go to your death, I will help you at any cost. Follow me.” She started to run toward the house, Lane, given renewed strength by hope, following close behind. As they neared the house and were just about to round the corner which would conceal them from the spot in the woods that they had left, their pursuers burst into the open. Almost instantly they spied the fugitives and with a shout rode after them. “Come on,” the girl panted. “I can’t hide you in the house. Mother would never consent to help a Yankee.” 10

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m stayed in the north, and let the south go in peace,” she thought. “I hate them,” she cried to herself fiercely. “If one of them were being hanged and I could save him by cutting the rope I would not.” As she spoke stamping her foot with anger, she was startled by a shout from the woods followed by half a dozen rifle shots that rang sharply on the still evening air. They came from a distance of not more than a quarter of a mile. Alarmed by this interruption to the quiet of the hour and not knowing what danger might be threatening, the girl turned and started to run toward the house. As she did so, however, there was a crackling in the bushes within a few feet. They parted and a man burst through them. He was a pitiable object. His clothes, which were those of a farmer, were torn and ragged to the extreme and covered with mud. His hat was gone, his hands and face were scratched and bleeding from the bushes through which he had passed. He was staggering from weari¬ ness. At sight of this figure Marjory would have fled the faster had not he spoken. “For God ' s sake stop,” he cried, “help me. They are close behind. They will be here in a moment! I can go no farther. Unless I find a place to hide I will be caught! ’ ’ As he spoke these words he sank to the ground as if no longer able to stand. Marjory hesitated, the voice though weak from fatigue, be¬ trayed education above his seeming station. “There can be nothing to fear from him,” she thought, her heart moved by pity for his condition. “Who are you?” she asked. “You are a confederate,” he asked hesitatingly. “Yes you all are down here. I need not have asked, but you look kind, I will trust you. I am not what I seem. I am a Yankee soldier, Captain Lane. I will tell you more. Yester¬ day I was sent into Petersburg in this disguise to learn the rebel plans. I obtained my information and was returning to the Union lines when I was pursued by the Rebel cavalry. Since noon I have run and walked through wood and swamps. 9

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She turned as she spoke and ran toward the large tobacco barns at the back of the house, which concealed them from the Confederates. Marjory pulled open the door of the largest. The daylight was fading fast and it was very dim within, but the girl, familiar with the place from childhood, found her way easily to the spot she sought. This was a loose board in one corner. She pushed it aside disclosing an opening about eighteen inches wide leading to the space under the floor. In happier days before the war it had been a place of conceal¬ ment during games of hide and seek. Now it was to save a man’s life. Marjory pointed to it and said, “There, you can lie safely until they are gone then I will bring you food and help you to get away. ’ ’ Thanking her for her help he slid into the opening, she pushed the board back into the place leaving him in total dark¬ ness. She next pulled some bunches of tobacco leaves over the place and left the building. As she came into the open air, Marjory heard angry voices at the front of the house. She entered by the back way and flew up the stairs to her own room, which commanded a view of the front of the house. Raising the sash softly she looked down. In the dim light she saw a group of men and horses gathered about the steps. One of the men, with his foot resting on the lower step and his bridle over his arm, was speaking to a person hidden from Marjory’s sight right by the roof of the porch. “I tell you madam he must be here, for we saw him and another person go behind your house not five minutes ago and he could not have reached the woods before my men surrounded the place.” “How dare you accuse me of hiding a Yankee, sir?” came to Marjory in her mother’s voice. “Me! the wife of Colonel Carew, one of the most loyal Southerners in Lee’s army. You insult me sir! Leave the place instantly! ’ ’ “Madam, you mistake me,” said the officer politely but firmly. 11