A Captured Santa Claus Part 3

"I wish I were in Dixie, away, away; In Dixie's land I'll take my stand, To live and die for Dixie land, Away, away, away down South in Dixie!"

sang the voice, full and sonorous.

When the song ended, there was an outburst of applause, and shouts apparently demanding some other song, which was refused, for the noise grew to a tumult. The General rose and walked to the window. A large crowd had gathered about a campfire not far from his window, and in the midst, lifted up on a box, and clearly outlined against the firelight stood the singer, a tall, straight man with a long beard and civilian's clothes. Suddenly the uproar hushed, for the voice began again. But this time it was a hymn:

"While shepherds watched their flocks by night, All seated on the ground, The Angel of the Lord came down, And glory shone around."

Verse after verse was sung, the men pouring out of their tents and huts to listen to the music.

"All glory be to G.o.d on high, And to the earth be peace; Good will henceforth from Heaven to men Begin and never cease!"

"Begin and never cease," sang the singer to the end.

When the strain died away, there was dead silence for a little s.p.a.ce, and then the talk began on a lower key.

The General stood for a moment, then turned from the window, finished his letter and sealed it. Carefully folding up the little sheet which lay before him, he replaced it in his pocket, and, going to the door, summoned the orderly who was just without.

"Mail that at once," he said.

"Yes, sir." The soldier saluted and turned to leave.

"By the way, who was that singing out there just now?--I mean that last one, who sang 'Dixie' and the hymn?"

"Only a pedler, sir, I believe."

The General's eyes fixed themselves on the soldier.

"Where did he come from?"

"I don't know, sir. Some of the boys had him singing."

"Tell Major Dayle to come here immediately," said the General.

In a moment the officer summoned entered, a stout, round-faced man, who looked as if he took the world easy. He appeared somewhat embarra.s.sed.

"Who was this pedler?" asked the commander.

"I--I don't know----" began the other.

"You don't know! Where did he come from?"

"From Colonel Watchley's camp--directly," said he, relieved to s.h.i.+ft a part of the responsibility.

"How was he dressed?"

"In citizen's clothes."

"What did he have?"

"A pack--a few toys, and trinkets, and books."

"What was his name?"

"I did not hear it."

"And you let him go!" The General's eyes snapped.

"Yes, sir; I don't think----" he began.

"No, I know you don't," said the General. "Have I not given strict orders? He was a spy. Where has he gone?"

"I--I don't know. He cannot have gone far."

"Report yourself under arrest," said the commander, sternly.

The officer, after waiting a moment, walked off scowling. Walking to the door, the General said to the sentinel:

"Call the corporal, and tell him to request Captain Albert to come here immediately."

In a moment an alert, vigorous-looking young officer came up, and the General gave him an order.

"He must be found and not allowed to escape," he said in closing.

"Yes, sir: I'll find him," he said, as he hurried off.

Ten minutes later a small body of hors.e.m.e.n rode rapidly out of camp in the direction the pedler had taken. The picket at the bridge across the little stream below the camp had seen nothing of the pedler, and the men separated and began to visit the camps stretched along the slopes above the stream.

An hour or two later Captain Albert reported that he had traced the spy to a place just over the creek, where he was believed to be harbored.

He wanted more men to surround the house.

"Take a detail and arrest him, or burn the house," ordered the General, angrily. "It is a perfect nest of treason--even the slaves are rebels!" he said to himself, as he walked up and down, as though in justification of his savage order. He put his hand in his pocket. It struck a little square envelope.

"Or wait," he called to the captain, who was just withdrawing. "I will go there myself, and take it for my head-quarters. It is a better place than this. I cannot stand this smoke any longer. That will break up their treasonable work."

VI

SANTA CLAUS Pa.s.sES THE LINES

All that day the tongues of the two little ones at Holly Hill had been chattering unceasingly of the expected visit of Santa Claus that night.

Mrs. Stafford had tried to explain to Charlie and Evelyn that it would be impossible for Santa Claus to bring them their presents this year; but she was met with the undeniable and unanswerable statement that their father had promised them. Before going to bed they had hung their stockings on the mantelpiece right in front of the chimney, so that Santa Claus would be sure to see them.

The mother had broken down over Evelyn's prayer, "not to forget my papa, and not to forget my dolly," and "to take care of my papa and of Santa Claus and not to let the Yankees hurt 'em," and her tears fell silently after the little ones were asleep, as she put the finis.h.i.+ng touches to the tiny gray uniform for Charlie. She was thinking not only of the children's disappointment, but of the absence of him on whose promise they had so securely relied. He had been away now for a year, and she had had no word of him for many weeks. Where was he?

Was he dead or alive? Mrs. Stafford sank on her knees by the bedside.

"O G.o.d, give me faith like this little child!" she prayed again and again. She was startled by hearing a step on the front portico and a knock at the door.