Beth paced up and down her bedroom. She glanced out the window, murmuring, “It’s nearly dusk. Mr. Stollen should be here soon. Tomorrow is the third day of May.” She shivered. Chewing her lip she thought of the journey beginning tomorrow. “For the hundredth time,” she muttered, “I’ve studied my way through the train trip. Why should going into Virginia make such a baby out of me?”
Abruptly she stopped in the middle of the room. “What could possibly be more horrible than to meet someone I know?” She rushed to the mirror and studied her features. “Oh, dear, I look terribly familiar.” She reached for the hairbrush and began to brush her flowing, flame-colored hair into a loose spiral of curls. Thrusting in hairpins, she studied the effect.
There was a tap at the door, and Cynthia’s voice called. “Come in.” When the door swung open, she faced Cynthia. “Does this make me look older?”
“You’ll stick out like a sore thumb with hair piled that high. Twist it lower, and push those curls inside the roll. You’re supposed to look respectable, not showy.”
Cynthia sat on the edge of the bed. “You worried about meeting someone you know? Don’t. It’s not any of their business what you’re doing. And besides, if they did know, they’d be green with envy. Now come sit down for a minute. You’ll make yourself sick with this pacing back and forth.”
“I’ve never done anything like this before.”
“Is that so?” Cynthia asked. “I could ask questions. I’m still wondering about your clothes and the jewelry you wear. Sugar, I don’t want an explanation; just don’t underrate yourself.”
Beth shook her head. “Cynthia, this takes better nerves than I have. Right now if someone says ‘Boo!’ I’ll run.”
Cynthia chuckled. “Remember, Beth, you’re not doing this to please yourself; you are doing a brave, courageous act which will help win this war. Come on, let’s go down to dinner!” She tugged at Beth’s arm and smiled.
****
They had just finished dinner when Timothy Stollen arrived. He was alone and seemed even more remote and cold. After greeting Cynthia, he turned to Beth. “I have some bad news for you. Kathleen was injured in a carriage runaway this afternoon. You’ll have to make the trip to Richmond alone.”
Beth’s throat tightened. “Is it serious?”
“No, just painful bruises. But it won’t be possible for her to travel for a week or so.”
Beth lifted her chin. “Wouldn’t it be wise to delay the trip until she’s recovered?”
His look was icy. “Impossible. Your contact will be expecting you. Furthermore, there will be a return message which must be delivered.” He continued to look at her, then suddenly he smiled. “You’ll make it. Just play the perfect lady, and our man will give you all the right signals. Here’s the packet of messages. Of course they are coded, but don’t take chances with them. You’ll be able to hide them so there’ll be no problems.” Unexpectedly he bent over and kissed her cheek. “You’ll do just fine. I’ll see you back here next week.”
With a grimace, Beth left the room rubbing her cheek. She was pulling pins from her hair when Cynthia came into the room.
“Beth, you don’t have to like his kisses,” she said, shaking her head. “Just remember he’s the boss. Your obvious distaste was childish. Think of him as Uncle Timothy.”
“Tim or Uncle Timothy, I don’t like his kisses, and I feel ugly. It was worse than a pat on the head. He’s done nothing except glare at me since we’ve first met.”
“Beth, you’re terribly young! That wooden smile is part of Tim. I don’t think he’s aware of how cold he is.”
“Well, just the same, I don’t like him a bit. Cynthia, please help me pack this party dress, and heaven help me if I have to wear it.”
Beth dropped her hand and stared at the dress. Heaven help me! She shivered and went to the valise. Chewing at her lip, she thought of the things Olivia had said. The Israelites were afraid of God? So am I.
****
The train’s wheels drummed a message against the rails, pounding out Timothy’s last words to her: We’ll wear them down; the man who knows the plans of the other side will be the victor. We’ll wear them down, slowly, steadily. Beth felt the packet of papers crackle against her waistline.
The wheels were slowing, and she moved to lean against the window. The evening shadows left wedges of light and dark across the landscape. The dark was a depot, the light a barren meadow. The train stopped.
The conductor came through. “This junction is the main exchange point; from here you may travel south or west as well as north. The Richmond train is due here in two hours.”
Beth watched the passengers gathering up their bags. Picking up her valise, she fell in behind the uniformed men and dumpy little ladies carrying their bundles.
A feeble light burned in the depot. As Beth hurried toward it, a man stepped quickly out of her path. “Oh, beg your pardon,” she murmured.
He turned. “I thought you sounded familiar! You’re Beth Peamble, aren’t you? Remember me? I’m Matthew Thomas, Olivia’s brother.”
“Of course I remember!” she cried. “Matthew, how nice to see you again.” She stopped, looked quickly around. Uneasily she shifted her bag while her mind filled with a list of all the things she shouldn’t say.
“Did you just get off this train?” She nodded, and he continued, “I saw your red hair at the front of the coach, but didn’t guess it was you. Are you are headed west?” he asked, taking her bag and leading the way to the depot.
“No,” she said slowly. He put the bags on the floor and waved her to the bench. She sat, adding, “I’m actually going into Richmond. Just a brief trip.”
“You’re brave,” he murmured. “Crystal started for New Orleans over a month ago. The few hours I’ve had on this train raise my concern.” He examined her carefully and said, “I don’t think the South’s trains are in the best of condition. I’ve been listening to the rails clatter since we’ve left Alexandria, and I wonder about their safety.”
“They’ve been moving a lot of troops on them,” Beth said.
“I know. I’ve waited several days to get a train which wasn’t filled with troops.” A studied, thoughtful look took over his face.
Now isn’t the time to begin asking questions, she reprimanded herself. She sighed and straightened.
“Do you have family in Richmond?” he asked. “I wouldn’t caution you against visiting them, of course. With conditions the way they are, it’s best to keep family ties when we can.”
That thoughtful expression returned to his face. She hunted for words. “I’ve a very old aunt in Richmond. Yes, I agree, it is good to see family. I’d chosen this time to visit because it seems travel isn’t too much of a problem.”
Dropping his voice he said, “I’m heading west.” He paused, glanced quickly around the room, and added, “Then you won’t be staying long in Richmond?”
“No. I’ll return to Washington in a week’s time. Have you seen Olivia since she’s come out East?”
“Yes, but not for several weeks.” Surprisingly his face cleared. He smiled. “Just after Crystal left, Olivia contacted me.” He moved close and dropped his voice. “Beth, I’m thinking of imposing on you. Is it possible to get you to carry some information for me? Just a verbal message,” he added quickly. “I wouldn’t want to jeopardize you.”
“Jeopardize?” she whispered. “Oh, Matthew, what are you getting me into?”
Matthew leaned forward. “I think my train has arrived. This will have to be quick. When you get back to Washington, will you go to the Capitol and ask to be directed to the Department of the Army? It doesn’t matter who you talk to, just be certain to give my name.” His voice was low, and she took a step closer. “Tell them I’ve been listening to some talkative men; there are good indications that Lee is moving troops east. Also, tell them it appears our knowledge of the South is based on misinformation. Word has come to me that indicates they’re without sufficient food, clothing, and even arms. Their morale is nearly gone. That’s all. Goodbye, and God bless you.”
He sprinted toward the train. Beth sat frowning down at her hands as the train left the depot. “Matthew Thomas, how can you possibly think that information is worth passing on? Why should I bother?” Why, indeed? she thought briefly. Whose side are you on?
She was still musing over the strange visit with Matthew when her train was announced. Gathering her shawl and valise, she joined the group of people pressing their way onto the train.
The man standing behind her smiled down at her; he pulled a heavy gold watch out of his vest pocket and scrutinized it. “Very late to begin this leg of the trip. It’s unfortunate there are so few trains going into Richmond these days.” He straightened his tie, adding, “Hopefully the matter at hand won’t continue much longer. Meanwhile we must put up with inconveniences for the sake of the men fighting.” He tilted his hat at Beth and she nodded as she passed to her seat.
Beth was settled into her seat when the conductor came into the car and faced the passengers. “Ladies and gentlemen, before we reach Richmond we must pass the large enemy camp just across the river from Fredericksburg. There is a chance they’ll try to tear up the railroad tracks; therefore, we will proceed to within fifteen miles of the encampment and wait until daylight before continuing our trip. Travel by day enables our men to see the track ahead of them. I am deeply sorry for the inconvenience, but it is for your welfare. Good night.”
****
Dawn colored the windows across the aisle from Beth when the train finally began to move again. Slowly they traveled down to the river and crept forward. Beth leaned against the window and stared curiously at the mass of dark huts and tents obscuring the view of the river.
The uniformed man across the aisle stood, stretched, and sat down beside her. “That’s the Yankee camp.” He shook his head sadly. “Sure having a time. Gone through three generals, and they’re still bumbling. I’m of the opinion they’d do better without a general. Might be they’d all go fighting off in different directions, but at least they’d feel like something was done when it was all over.”
He grinned down at her. “Guess I shouldn’t complain; it’s their men getting killed.” Then he sobered. “But friend or enemy, it’s a shame to see people getting killed like this. There ought to be a better way.”
“Do you suppose if people followed God this wouldn’t happen?” She nearly bit her lip when the surprising words slipped out.
His eyebrows slid up. “Ma’am, they are. At least in the South. In the North they’ve got the abolitionists telling them what to believe. But in the South, we take the Bible as our guide.” He grinned as he said, “It tells us slavery is God’s will for some people.”
Beth frowned. “I thought the war was because the South wanted to be free, not because of slavery.”
“Where do you come from?”
“Tennessee,” she replied hesitantly. “Up in the mountains.”
“Honey chile,” he murmured, “I’m surprised to see you wearing shoes!” She flushed, and he chuckled. “That’s all right. But you people up there don’t get in on a good share of what’s going on.”
She noticed the buildings beyond his shoulder. With a nod toward the window she said, “This must be Richmond.”
He chuckled again. “Now you tell me this is the first time you’ve been to Richmond.” Beth gave him a curt nod and turned to look out the window.
The train slowed and puffed into the depot. In a cloud of flying ash and hissing steam it stopped. Beth stood up and found the soldier beside her. With a mocking smile, he reached for her valise. “I feel responsible for a baby sister.”
She followed him out of the train and claimed her bag. “Thank you, sir,” she murmured, turning smartly and walking quickly toward the street. A hack driver sprinted to her side and she surrendered the valise. “To the Claremont Hotel,” she ordered.
As she signed the guest register, the clerk handed her an envelope. It’s all happening just as Mr. Stollen said it would.
In her room upstairs, she closed the door and leaned against it. Her heart began a slow, heavy thump. Beth pressed her lips together and walked to the window to look out across the city. She could see stately trees on broad avenues lined with buildings of brick or sparkling white. “Quite different from Tennessee’s hills,” she murmured. “So feast your eyes, Beth. Hopefully it will all sink in. Maybe someday people will think you’re a lady.”
She turned to pace the room. Frowning over the memory of the brash soldier, she bit her quivering lip and finally dropped into a chair. He sure didn’t treat me like a lady. Baby sister! She picked up the square vellum envelope the clerk had given her and pried it open.
It was an invitation to a reception for a name she didn’t recognize. A carriage would call for her. Eight o’clock. “Two hours,” she mused. “Then I’ll meet this man, my ‘contact,’ and day after tomorrow I’ll go home. Never, never again will I do this,” she vowed.
Cynthia had said something about helping the South, of being honored. Beth contemplated the idea. She walked to the window and looked out at the graceful white mansions and the dignified brick. “I’d be respected, welcome in those places. Perhaps, if they see me often enough, when it’s all over, I’ll be invited there,” she murmured, standing back in the curtains to examine the houses, the carriages, and the group of young ladies strolling down the street.
At the appointed hour, Beth was handed into a carriage as large as any she had ever seen. She quickly ran an admiring hand over the velvet and walnut appointments before she turned to look out the window. The carriage went down one of the broad avenues she had seen from her window.
Her destination turned out to be a white house situated at the end of a long curving lane. The inside was filled with music, flowers, and softly pitched voices. She was handed down the reception line, from one gloved hand to the other, murmured over, and pressed out into the large ballroom where clusters of people with subdued voices and dignified clothing drifted in and out of groups.
A tall, dark, stern-faced man came into the room and the crowd parted around him. “President Jefferson Davis,” someone whispered.
Suddenly she felt a firm hand under her elbow, heard a voice close to her ear. “Miss Martha Matlock, I presume.” Her heart pounded. This was the contact.
“Sir, I don’t believe I have met you.”
“Robert Swalling. May I bring you refreshments? There is a table tucked back in behind the potted palms.”
“Most certainly. Just fruit punch, please.”
When the evening was nearly at a close, Beth heard the new voices. Like exclamation marks the excited, strained voices were interjected in the midst of gentle laughter and low-voiced conversation. She turned to watch the crowd. President Davis left with several uniformed men following.
“It sounds as if there’s been a prison break,” Mr. Swalling said. “Libby Prison. That is the place where the prisoners of war are kept. Union soldiers.”
Beth looked at Mr. Swalling. “I believe it would be best to give you this packet now.”
“Yes, I see they are starting to order the carriages,” he murmured. Turning to her, he held out his hand. “Thanks to the palm trees, we needn’t worry about prying eyes.” She handed him the slender packet. He tucked it in his pocket and said with a smile, “It’s ridiculous to think there’s danger in this room, but who knows? I have a small case for you to give our man.” For a minute his hands clasped hers. She glimpsed a small case of delicate gold and slipped it discreetly into the front of her frock.
He escorted her to the carriage and kissed her hand. “My dear Miss Matlock, I look forward to seeing you again soon.” His teasing eyes mocked her as he stepped back from the carriage.