Dan called, “Very well. I’m buying the colt, if anything goes wrong. Please tell her.” He ran to the cob-shed: Fisher was peering out through a crack. Elijah sat on a saw-horse while Dan and Fisher rolled the broken Jenny Lind buggy from its deep ruts in the straw. They hunted savagely for single harness. Dan went into the stable run and led out the bay colt. Mrs. Fanning was standing at an upstairs window, wailing damply, a pink wrapper caught around her. “Father loves that colt … he’s gentle. Even my daughter-in-law rides him … poor, poor boys! And your dear mothers, they must feel—”

Bale shoved Elijah into the splintered seat beside young Fisher, and handed their muskets to him. Elijah clasped the guns in his trembling hands. “Dan, I’ll get myself some of those devils yet. Chase us around the country this way—” They waved at the pink hulk in the upper window. The colt danced out of the driveway; ungreased axles screeched without mercy … They went pitching south, and east again; the wheels were throwing out a thin soup of mud. They went out of sight behind the nearest grove.

Mrs. Fanning staggered back from the window. “They make me think of honey boy. What if he’d be captured and court-martialed and— I can’t stand it! Dan, Dan!” she cried, “Will you go down to the factory after father? The Confederates—coming—”

“They’ve heard the news downtown by this time, Mrs. Fanning. He’ll be here before long, I’m sure—if not, I’ll look out for you until he comes.” He considered for a moment. “Perhaps it would be a good idea for you to hide your valuables. They say invading armies seize them: I don’t know.”

Irene stood on the back stoop, twisting a handkerchief in her hands. “They’ve been hidden since Monday, Mr. Bale.” Her face called, oh lover, it has been so long since the last realization—so many hours—yes, you know—you feel the separation of our starved and pitiful selves—

“I’ll keep an eye out for you, until dark,” Dan said. “If Mr. Fanning doesn’t arrive soon, I will be back.” He strode through the wet weeds of the pasture. By the time he reached his own yard, he could hear a marvelous, sodden murmur beyond Oak Ridge—the sound of a hundred and fifty wagons rumbling on a damp and rocky Pike.

He went out through his gate and looked up the hill. In the low mist, a troop of cavalrymen loomed tremendously on the summit. Seen through the haze of wetness, they were spectral and Tartaric. More crowded there … More. He heard a yapping word of command; a horse squealed; then the herd began to pour down the long slope toward him. Resounding hoofs … He heard Mrs. Knouse cry out; her door slammed, and she was moving things against it.

Book Three: The Chambersburg Pike

Book Three