One sole conviction now had the man in posses-sion: that the body had moved. It lay nearer to the edge of its plot of light--there could be no doubt of it. It had also moved its arms, for, look, they are both in the shadow! A breath of cold air struck By-ring full in the face; the boughs of trees above him stirred and moaned. A strongly defined shadow passed across the face of the dead, left it luminous, passed back upon it and left it half obscured. The horrible thing was visibly moving! At that moment a single shot rang out upon the picket-line--a lone-lier and louder, though more distant, shot than ever had been heard by mortal ear! It broke the spell of that enchanted man; it slew the silence and the solitude, dispersed the hindering host from Central Asia and released his modern manhood.
With a cry like that of some great bird pouncing upon its prey he sprang forward, hot-hearted for action!
Shot after shot now came from the front. There were shoutings and confusion, hoof-beats and desul-tory cheers. Away to the rear, in the sleeping camp, were a singing of bugles and grumble of drums.
Pushing through the thickets on either side the roads came the Federal pickets, in full retreat, firing back-ward at random as they ran. A straggling group that had followed back one of the roads, as instructed, suddenly sprang away into the bushes as half a hundred horsemen thundered by them, striking wildly with their sabres as they passed. At headlong speed these mounted madmen shot past the spot where Byring had sat, and vanished round an angle of the road, shouting and firing their pistols. Amoment later there was a roar of musketry, fol-lowed by dropping shots--they had encountered the reserve-guard in line; and back they came in dire confusion, with here and there an empty saddle and many a maddened horse, bullet-stung, snorting and plunging with pain. It was all over--'an affair of out-posts.'
The line was re-established with fresh men, the roll called, the stragglers were re-formed. The Fed-eral commander, with a part of his staff, imperfectly clad, appeared upon the scene, asked a few ques-tions, looked exceedingly wise and retired. After standing at arms for an hour the brigade in camp 'swore a prayer or two' and went to bed.
Early the next morning a fatigue-party, com-manded by a captain and accompanied by a surgeon, searched the ground for dead and wounded. At the fork of the road, a little to one side, they found two bodies lying close together--that of a Federal of-ficer and that of a Confederate private. The officer had died of a sword-thrust through the heart, but not, apparently, until he had inflicted upon his enemy no fewer than five dreadful wounds. The dead officer lay on his face in a pool of blood, the weapon still in his heart. They turned him on his back and the surgeon removed it.
'Gad!' said the captain--'It is Byring!'--add-ing, with a glance at the other, 'They had a tough tussle.'
The surgeon was examining the sword. It was that of a line officer of Federal infantry--exactly like the one worn by the captain. It was, in fact, Byring's own. The only other weapon discovered was an un-discharged revolver in the dead officer's belt.
The surgeon laid down the sword and approached the other body. It was frightfully gashed and stabbed, but there was no blood. He took hold of the left foot and tried to straighten the leg. In the effort the body was displaced. The dead do not wish to be moved--it protested with a faint, sickening odour.
Where it had lain were a few maggots, manifesting an imbecile activity.
The surgeon looked at the captain. The captain looked at the surgeon.
