Who was this dangerous beauty, who received the attentions of the young officers with so much careless disdain? I asked that question of a friend and he replied:

"Miss Georgia Conway, a daughter of Judge William Conway."

"Ah," I said, "the statesman?--the successor of Randolph in bitter oratory?"

"Yes, and yonder he is."

I looked in the direction indicated, and saw an elderly gentleman of small stature, with long gray hair, and lips full of benignant smiles.

He wore a suit of black, and there was something courtly and attractive in every movement of the slender figure. His low bow and sweet smile were the perfection of old-time courtesy.

I was still looking at this gentleman, whose fame had extended throughout Virginia and the whole South, when a familiar voice near me, attracted my attention. It was that of Captain Davenant, the young officer of the horse artillery, and glancing in the direction of the voice I saw him bending over a young lady who was seated and conversing with him. She was a girl of seventeen, with blue eyes, auburn hair, and a complexion as fair as a lily. As Davenant addressed her in low tones, she gazed up into his face with an expression of confiding affection.

In the eyes of the young officer I could read a profound and ardent love.

Turning to my friend I inquired the name of the young lady, in turn.

"Miss Virginia Conway," he replied, "the only sister of Miss Georgia."

He had scarcely uttered the words, when Davenant's interview with the young lady terminated in a very singular manner. Suddenly Judge Conway pa.s.sed through the crowd, reached the spot where the young people were conversing, and darting a glance of positive fury at the youth--a glance which made his eyes resemble coals of fire--offered his arm to his daughter, and abruptly bore her away.

Davenant's face flushed crimson, and his eyes darted flame. He took a step as though about to follow--but all at once he stopped.

Then from red his face became pale. The old expression of sadness returned to his lips. With head bent down, and a faint color stealing over his cheeks, he went toward the door, and pa.s.sed though it, and disappeared.

Before I had time to reflect upon this singular incident, I heard the voice of Stuart.

"Come, Surry! to horse! unless you wish to remain!" he said.

"Ready, general!" I replied.

And in five minutes we were galloping toward Fleetwood.

"A gay ball," said Stuart, as we rode along; "but do you remember _my instinct_, Surry?"

"Perfectly, general. Has it told you something on the present occasion?"

"Yes."

"What?"

"You have heard of the famous ball at Brussells, broken up by the guns of Waterloo?"

"Certainly."

"Well, I think that this one will prove similar--that cannon are going to thunder before the music stops."

Stuart had scarcely spoken when rapid hoof-strokes were heard in front, and a horseman shot by.

"Have you seen General Stuart?" said a voice in the darkness.

"Here I am--what news, Stringfellow?"

The horseman drew rein so suddenly that his horse was thrown upon his haunches. "You will be attacked at daylight, general."

"Well,--what force?"

"The whole Yankee cavalry, with infantry and artillery supports."

"All right; ride back with me, and tell me every thing, Stringfellow."

In half an hour we were at head-quarters. Stuart dismounted and entered his tent.

"You see I was right, Surry," he said turning toward me, "and there is something in my _instinct_ after all!"

VIII.

FLEETWOOD.

At daylight a long thunder came up from the woods of the Rappahannock.

The greatest cavalry combat of the war had begun.

At that sound Stuart leaped to the saddle, and rode rapidly toward the front. Fifteen minutes afterward his head-quarters had vanished. On the green slope of Fleetwood not a tent was visible.

Is the reader familiar with the country along the Upper Rappahannock?

If so, he will remember that the river is crossed in Culpeper by numerous fords. The princ.i.p.al--beginning on the left, that is to say, up the river--are Welford's, Beverly's, the Railroad bridge, and Kelly's fords.

Stuart's left, under William H.F. Lee, was opposite Welford's; his centre, under Jones, opposite Beverly's; his right, under Hampton, toward Kelly's; and a force under Robertson was posted in the direction of Stevensburg, to guard the right flank. The whole amounted to about seven or eight thousand cavalry.

The Federal column which now advanced to attack it, is said to have embraced all the cavalry of General Hooker's army; and must have numbered more than twelve thousand sabres.

Stuart rode on rapidly down Fleetwood Hill, and was soon opposite Beverly's Ford where the enemy had crossed in force. General Jones was heavily engaged, and the Napoleons of the horse artillery were roaring steadily. Every moment the round shot crashed, or the sh.e.l.l tore through the woods about three hundred yards in front of the pieces where the dismounted cavalry of the enemy had effected a lodgment. They kept up a hot fire at the cannoneers, and the steady rattle of carbines further up the river told that Lee was also engaged.

In face of the bursting sh.e.l.l, the blue _tirailleurs_ could not advance; and Stuart sent an order to Hampton to move in and attack on the right.

The troopers of the Gulf States advanced at the word; their dense column was seen slowly moving, with drawn sabre, across the plain; the moment of decisive struggle seemed rapidly approaching, when suddenly a heavy blow was struck at Stuart's rear.

I had been directed by him to ascertain if "every thing had been sent off from Fleetwood," and to see that no papers had been dropped there in the hurry of departure. Going back at a gallop I soon reached the hill, and rode over the ground recently occupied by the head-quarters.

The spot seemed swept. Not a paper was visible. All that I could see was a withered bouquet dropped by some young officer of the staff--a relic, no doubt, of the last night's ball at the village.

I had already turned to ride back to Stuart, when my attention was attracted by a column of cavalry advancing straight on Brandy--that is, upon Stuart's rear. What force was that? Could it be the enemy? It was coming from the direction of Stevensburg; but how could it have pa.s.sed our force there?

"Look!" I said to an officer of the horse artillery, one battery of which was left in reserve on the hill, "look! what column is that?"

"It must be Wickham's," was his reply.