Page:Randall Parrish - The Red Mist.djvu/282

 264 they had never utilized it before. The longer I thought the more I began to dread the unknown dangers ahead—the gauntlet we must run before attaining the Confederate lines. We could baffle pursuit, but if once we came into contact with those irregulars of the mountains—merciless, irresponsible—no one could predict the result. And every mile of the way we must now traverse lay directly through their country—a region bare, inhospitable, open to all the nameless horror of civil war, where men fought like wolves, and woman suspected every stranger. I glanced aside at the girl, riding so silently at my side, but she was a mere shadow in that darkness. Should I tell her the fear that almost paralyzed me, now that I faced it clearly? Should I compel her to return, and permit me to go on alone? I could skulk along through the night, discard my horse, travel afoot, and thus avoid encountering any of those villains. I was myself a mountaineer, and knew the secret trails—alone, on foot, with no one else to care for, or defend, I could discover some unguarded passage. But with her beside me, the two of us mounted, such a feat was almost impossible. I must find her food and shelter, and we could not travel on horseback without leaving a trail unconcealed. To be sure I knew her of old; that she was strong, resourceful, fearless—yet she was a woman