Mississippi Raider (26 page)

“
We
have to get you to Doctor Conried so he can attend to your wound,
Stone!” the girl stated, regaining her composure as she looked at
the bleeding gash running down her companion’s right
cheek.

“
Not
until we’ve done what we came here for,” the Texan answered, his
voice giving an indication of the pain he was suffering as he
clasped the napkin that Burke had used during the evening meal. “I
hope we can burn this place down so completely that there’s nothing
to suggest we Southrons killed him.”

~*~

“
This
has to be stitched, Captain Hart,” Doctor Fritz Conried declared,
having examined the injury sustained by the Texan in the light of
the small lantern that was supplying the illumination he had
claimed was safe provided they listened for anybody who might be
approaching. “The cut did not go all the way through your cheek,
but it very nearly has and there is no other way I can treat
it.”

A search of Christopher
Burke
’s
house by Belle Boyd and her companion, who had continued to try to
staunch the blood from the wound while doing so, had provided them
with the means to accomplish their purpose. There had been
sufficient kerosene in one portion of the cellar to ensure a
conflagration
that would cause the property to be burned to the ground as
totally as Baton Roy ale Manor had been on the night her parents
were murdered. Furthermore, her skill at picking locks had given
them access to the section in which the weapons, a supply of
ammunition, powder, and a supply of lead for reloading the spent
cases and machinery were stored.

Because Stone was in
considerable pain and less than steady on his feet as the result of
the loss of blood, the work of arson had been by the girl. She had
done so with such effect that, as they rode away leading the four
horses upon which the quartet of
“liberals” had arrived and were to be
released when clear of the property, they knew there was no way the
lire could be halted before it completed the destruction they
desired. This had been even more certain when they heard the
explosion caused when the flames reached the gunpowder. In fact,
when Conried reported the aftermath of the affair some time later,
they discovered that not a trace of their activities remained and
the general consensus of opinion among those who investigated the
destruction of the property was that it came about due to an
accidental fire. The doctor had concluded by saying that he
believed the loss of the weapon had been something of a relief to
those members of the Union Army who would have had to take time and
spend money checking its potential as an addition to their cause’s
already extensive weaponry.

In spite of the pain he was enduring even
after the flow of blood was staunched by its congealment, Stone had
ridden with Belle back to the cabin where Sergeant Waggles Harrison
and Conried were waiting. For all his eagerness to be given a
verbal report of what had happened, the doctor had insisted upon
attending to the wound while this was given by the girl. The
removal of the napkin, which was now stiffened with the congealed
blood, had been the cause of more suffering for the Captain.
However, he and the others realized there would be more to come as
a result of the treatment that it was necessary to have
performed.

“
Go to
it, Doc!” Stone authorized through gritted teeth.

“
It
isn’t that easy,” Conried warned. “I’ve got sutures and needles in
my bag, but anesthetic of all kinds is in such short supply to us
civilian practitioners that, as I didn’t anticipate any would be
needed, I daren’t chance bringing along any of my small supply. I’m
sorry, but—!”

“
You
weren’t to know,” Stone stated. “So I’ll just have to do
without.”

“
If it
was only that easy!” the doctor sighed. “You’re going to be hurt
more than a little by the stitching, and we’ve no way of reducing
the pain.”

“
We’ve
the opiate in the whiskey,” Belle pointed out.

“
That
would do,” Conried admitted, but his voice was redolent of
misgivings. “But, from what you told me of its effects and taking
Captain Hart’s condition into account, it might render him
unconscious for hours.”

“
And
we don’t have hours to spare, Belle,” the Captain asserted. “Likely
they’ll be hunting around for whoever started the fire, and we all
have to be long gone before they do. So do you best get her done,
Doc. Waggles can hold me still.”

“
I
doubt whether he, or any other man, could do it, the suffering
you’ll be put through,” Conried denied, and his gaze went to Belle.
“But, from what I know about the stubborn sense of masculine pride
I’m sure you’ll have, Captain Hart, a
woman
might be able to let you endure
it.”

“
Then
a
woman
is going to do the holding,” the girl declared, and
although her upbringing at the hands of her mother and Auntie
Mattie Jonias had no liking for the decision she had made, she
started to remove her shirt to leave her bare to the waist. Taking
the wounded officer’s hands in her own and positioning herself so
that her bare breasts would be within his range of vision, she went
on, “And you’re going to know for
certain
that it is a woman holding you,
Stone.”

None of the men realized that they were
witnessing another example of the lengths to which Belle Boyd would
go in meeting the needs of an assignment.

When the girl became known as the Rebel Spy,
nobody who knew the way she had acquired the fame that brought this
about would claim the sobriquet was undeserved.

“
Hello, Professor ’Zac,” Belle Boyd said as the elderly man
who was the sole occupant of the room she had entered started to
rise from the desk at which he was working. Gesturing to the sheets
of paper lying before him, she continued, “Is this something of
interest?”

“
It
could be, my dear,” replied Wladystaw Smreczak, the difficulty most
people who did not share his Polish birthright found in trying to
pronounce his full name having resulted in the abbreviation used by
the girl. Waving one sheet of the papers, he elaborated, “This is a
message in code from a Yankee spy which our Lady has received, and
I’m trying to decipher it.”

Although Captain Stone Hart had
clearly been suffering through the journey, Belle and the Texans
had experienced no difficulty in returning to Confederate-held
territory after having parted company with Doctor Fritz Conried.
Accompanying her to Arlington in accordance with the instructions
received from Rose Greenhow before setting off on the mission, by
the kind of coincidence no author would dare use in a work of
fiction, Stone had his injury examined by her friend Phillipe Front
de Bo
euf,
who was now a captain and surgeon for the garrison in the town.
Despite saying the suturing of the gash had been performed in an
excellent fashion and it was healing correctly, Front de Boeuf had
warned that it would nevertheless leave a livid white scar down the
otherwise tanned right cheek, which would mar the Texan’s handsome
features permanently.

After assuring Belle that they
did not hold her responsible for what had happened, Stone and
Sergeant Harrison were thanked by Rose on behalf of the General
Staff for their participation. Warned no mention of the mission
could be put on their military records for obvious reasons, they
had set off to rejoin their regiment, wherein they continued to
serve with
distinction until the cessation of hostilities caused them
to take up another career. However, before leaving, Stone had asked
Rose and Belle to do all they could to find out the nature of the
scheme that could threaten the welfare of Texas. Despite all their
organization could do, they failed, and it was not until a few
years later that the truth became known.
^xvii

Much to the
girl
’s
relief, on hearing what had taken place during the mission, her
aunt had stated approval with everything that had taken place. Rose
had said that, while it was necessary to prevent the potentially
lethal weapon from reaching the Union Army, she was pleased the
execution of Christopher Burke had not needed to be carried out by
her niece. She had also declared that she would ensure that no
blame was placed on the party for failing to bring away either of
the devices or the plans for their manufacture.

When told about the gun later, being
something of an expert on the subject, Captain Alexandre Dartagnan
had said its not being available for reproduction by the South
would be of no great disadvantage. He had duplicated the assumption
by Stone Hart regarding the malfunctions that had occurred and
claimed overcoming the problem would cost much time and money
better employed for other purposes. On the other hand, he had
asserted that some other inventor would eventually come up with a
similar solution to producing a gun that would operate without the
need of manual cranking and the means to stop the jamming due to
friction. Belle had concurred with his wish that such a development
would not come into the hands of the North, and they both lived
long enough to see the first types of genuine machine guns designed
by Hiram Percy Maxim and John Moses Browning, among others, brought
into service around the world.

Having been told by Rose to
rest, since there could be another assignment taking her into Union
territory forthcoming, Belle had been only too willing to do this;
she was tired as a result of the one she had just successfully
accomplished. Having found herself at a loose end and being on
friendly terms with Professor
’Zac, hearing he had arrived from Richmond
in response to a
summons from her aunt, she had decided to drop by and see him.
Always willing to take an interest in everything that might improve
her efficiency as a spy, she crossed to the desk and looked at the
paper he was placing before him to resume his work.

“
It’s
a numeral substitution, I see,” Belle remarked.

“
Yes,”
the elderly Polish expert answered. “And they can be
most
difficult to break
unless one has the key.”

“
Perhaps the Yankees have used the same kind of key wording
as we did,” the girl suggested. “Why not see whether they’ve used
the first lines of ‘Dixie’ as the base.”

“
It’s
worth a try,” Professor ’Zac admitted, and took another sheet of
paper. Having written “Southrons hear your country call you, up
lest death or worse befall you, to arms, to arms, to arms in Dixie”
and placed numbers from one to twenty-six above the appropriate
letters, he compared the result with the message and shook his
head. “No, that isn’t it.”

“
They
might not know the General’s words,” Belle pointed out. “Or
considered them too patriotic to be used.”

“
That’s possible,” the expert conceded, and carried out a
similar test with “I wish I was in the land of cotton, old days
there are not forgotten, look away, look away, away down south in
Dixie,” written by Daniel D. Emmet.

“
I
wonder if they might have decided it would be too obvious and used
‘Yankee Doodle’ like we do?” Belle remarked, after another
experiment failed to produce anything understandable.

The first attempt to employ the
numbers used by the Confederate States Secret Service proved no
more successful than the preceding pair. However, Professor
’Zac had an
inspiration. Reversing the order of the numbers, he found that he
was able to reproduce the message in its entirety. Reading what he
printed neatly on another sheet of paper, he raised his head and
looked hard at Belle.

“
Look
at
this!”
the elderly expert requested.

“
So
this is where they are going to be in five days!” the girl breathed
as she did as requested. The message was addressed to the names by
which George Tollinger and Alfred Barmain were now known and
instructed them to attend a rendezvous with other agents of the
Yankee Secret Service at Grunion, a town she had never heard of.
Checking the map on the wall of the office, she found it to be a
small place on the way to Brandywine and estimated the distance to
be no more than five miles over the Pennsylvania border. Her face
lost all its color as she gritted rather than just said, “Excuse
me, please, Professor ’Zac. I must show this to my aunt
immediately.”

“
I
knew you would, my dear,” the expert replied. “And good luck to
you.”

“
Ah,
Belle,” Rose greeted as the girl entered her room. She was holding
a sheet of paper and looked grim. “I was just about to send for
you—!”

“
I
know where Tollinger and Barmain are,” Belle interrupted before her
aunt could say any more. ‘They’re less than five miles away, at
Grunion!”

“
And
this information has to be taken to our people in Annapolis as
quickly as possible,” Rose pointed out, aware that the town she
named was in the opposite direction to where her niece mentioned.
“It’s in the opposite direction to Grunion.”