Motion Picture Story Magazine (Aug 1911-Jan 1912)

40 TEE MOTION PICTURE STORY MAGAZINE hearts were offering prayers for his safety, and tears would be quick to flow from shining eyes should he fare ill in the fray. By hard riding, Milroy found Pelham in time. That wondrous artillery officer, a boy in years, with a spotless record of bravery and success, was jogging along on a huge artillery horse, his knees drawn up to the holsters by short stirrups, when Milroy came dashing along and delivered his orders. Pelham received them with radiant anticipation of action and immediately urged his force to the front. Leaving the heavy roll of wheels and beat of artillery horses' feet behind, Milroy made a detour to the east and set off like a good hunter, not knowing what is coming next in the way of obstacles and unseen dangers. The region he first entered had felt the hot breath of war. Its green fields and sweet flowers were no more, and there were scarcely enough trees standing to make a camp fire. All of Nature's endearments had disappeared with its peace of years. Further on, when he entered the lanes and byways, he found the face of Nature less defiled — the devastation of conflict, like that of commerce, was limited to territory adjoining the arteries of travel — yet the farms were dominated by closed country seats standing in reproachful and settled melancholy ; only the twittering birds and smiling flowers seemed to be unaware that the horrors of war were not far distant and ever threatening. In the soft-rising hills he reached what seemed to be a highway not recently used, but was in truth an approach to a red mansion whose tower was visible above a far clump of trees. The road ran straight to Fairview. To the wearied soldier this glimpse of home was a temptation. It was heart-sickening to think of its inviting rest and comfort so near, with the privations of a seemingly endless campaign as the enforced alternative. Horse and rider turned their heads to the unfailing fountain of comfort and serene happiness — home was so near! To the northwest, the distant thunder of guns told that gallant Pelham 's batteries had reached the scene of battle and gone into action in time to aid Stuart in desperate resistance to Bayard's attack. Milroy sighed and set his face to the east — he had a duty to perform, and one of greater magnitude than even his astute leader had dreamed. He crossed Fairview road and picked his way thru a forest toward a wide stretch of water, where it might be crossed by swimming his horse. He was far south and east of the battleground; it hardly seemed possible that any considerable body of bluecoats had penetrated that distance, but he might be flanking their pickets, and he proceeded with greater circumspection. He was in full uniform and armed. It was not likely that he would be taken for a spy, but it was easy to make short shift of a wandering soldier, "commanding in the field." Detached service of any kind bristled with hazard and required not only a man of daring soul, but of quick hands and keen eyes. The scout paused at the brink of the flooded stream to let his horse drink. There was a ford some distance below, but it would necessitate a wide detour and might be watched. Above, and around a bend, was a long bridge, with a double approach at one end. He could pass from side to side at the point selected without being seen by pickets at either of the main crossings. He examined the opposite banks thru his field glasses ; there was not a soul visible. He entered the stream and gazed cautiously about him ; there was naught to be seen and no sound but the rush of water. His horse struggled gamely in crossing, swimming occasionally, but finding a foothold most of the way. The greatest depth was at the bridge above, where the Englishman had often enjoyed tranquil hours of fishing. On attaining the other bank the humane rider dismounted and allowed his game hunter a breathing spell. They were now secreted in