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Night fell across the valley and there was dark peace in the forest where the Demons of
the Past stalked with the nocturnal creatures and the members of the Company of the
'Men Apart' looked down on the glare of lights from the Collecting Center. The last few hours had been a nightmare for Sister Helen and now, away from the crowds she found herself quite amazed that peace and stillness could still exist in the world. She, who would have stayed talking to and praying with her Corporal all the last night had he been willing because, despite her religion, she was afraid of the evil spirits lurking in the forest, was now glad to be among them. Helen's heart was pounding so loudly she was sure it could be heard by all the others. At ten o'clock the valley echoed to a piercing shriek, leaping between the hills, stirring the memories of those spirits who lived before the age of oil and causing a brief consternation in the Company. Then, from the north, came a distant answer and the building rustle of a train. At half-past-ten with another whistle the empty train pulled into the station. A ten forty, Jack Morrison, with confirmation that the line was clear sounded his whistle again and began the movement of the cars containing the Drummerton Brigade on their long journey to the north and west. By eleven o'clock the lights in the railroad yard had been turned off except for a couple on the platform and the Drummerton Brigade had left their land forever. In the Collecting Center itself the noise of the arriving and departing trains had hardly been heard over the babble. The loudspeakers had begun calling the assembly of the Brigade of Hadley Bridge who were due to register at dawn. At eleven-thirty the card game in the Quartermaster's office finally ended and the man called Bluemud stepped out into the night, followed by the Quartermaster and the Stationmaster. 'It's a fine night,' said Bluemud, stretching himself. 'I gotta go check them new wagons,' said the Stationmaster. They walked across to the station and up and down the platform beneath dim lights, smoking cigars. The freight car doors were open and the Stationmaster took a lamp and checked each one in silence. Bluemud kicked the side of a car. The wood was somewhat rotten and from inside came a smell of decay partially neutralized with deodorant and other chemicals. 'My train arrives at three,' said Bluemud. 'Where are you going to put it? 'On the spur beyond the jail.' The Stationmaster consulted his watch. 'Plenty of time. I think I'll turn in.' He walked across the tracks towards his office. 'Let me know when it comes.' 'You'll help me then, to find the ones I want?' said Bluemud to the Quartermaster, walking on. 'I'll help all I can,' said the Quartermaster, nervously. 'But I'm not taking any risks. You find a way, I'll look the other way. It won't be easy. The Army won't be happy if they find out.' 'Thanks, man. I'll make it worth your while. It may take a few days but we'll come up with something.' 'You'll have to sleep in the jail,' said the Quartermaster apologetically. 'Sorry, Mr. Bluemud, sir, it's all we got to offer. There's only that other fella in there. shouldn't think he'll disturb you. You'll frighten him half to death.' Though he was a burly, experienced old man, talking in half darkness beneath dim lamps was enough to frighten the Quartermaster himself half to death when the other man was Eldridge Bluemud. 'I don't mind that.' Bluemud stretched himself again. 'He looked interesting, coming from nowhere like that.' 'Should be hanged. Will be too, tomorrow.' 'We'll see about that, Mr. Quartermaster. We'll see. Good-night.' 'Good-night, Mr. Bluemud.' Carl Relyt had been raised to believe in the consistency of things. Though the events of the last few days had been beyond his experience he was, because of his upbringing, prepared to admit even them into the natural scheme of things. However, when he saw Sister Helen without her robes he should have guessed then that nothing in this world was really as he had been taught. Who would have dreamed that one day he would find himself in a jail cell and wake up to encounter there a Pastor wearing peasant clothes? When he opened his eye he saw just such a one sitting in the other cell, admittedly with the door open, watching him as he lay in his cot. All the features were there: the high skull, the broad forehead, the piercing eyes, the smile, the authoritative voice. Only the clothes were different. 'What's your name' asked the Pastor gruffly though not unkindly. 'How did you get here?' Carl was shy at first and the Pastor offered him an unusual lighted stick to put in his mouth. The stick nauseated Carl and he rejected it but the Pastor was not offended. 'Never mind, they take a bit of getting used to, I suppose,' he said. 'Call me Mr. Bluemud.' Gradually Carl relaxed and told the Pastor his story, confiding everything so that eventually the Pastor's eyes grew bright with excitement. An hour later, by the time Carl had finished answering all the Pastor's questions the Pastor was pacing up and down his cell talking to himself in a most unusual way. 'Just think! Out-thought by a country corporal! You may not know it, Corporal, but you've got guts! Brains too! Why didn't I think of that?' 'I don't know' said Carl who, by then was very weary and wished only to sleep. Bluemud consulted his watch. 'It's two o'clock. Train's due in an hour. We'll have to wait until the morning, though. You'd better get some sleep while you can, Corporal. I'll be back at first light. Then we'll go and find your Company. They will be there, won't they?' 'Some will, I hope.' 'Yes, but how many?' The Pastor began pacing again. 'Just what I need. Hunters and seekers, tough men and plenty of females. They will follow you, won't they, Corporal?' Bluemud smiled broadly, not waiting for a reply. 'I'm sure they will. Mustn't get impatient, must we? See you tomorrow, then.' At three o'clock when many of the Dentonsville Brigade were still lying nervously awake wondering what the morning would bring the dim rattle of a train came creeping up to them. This train did not signal its approach. From the south it stole into the rail yard as quietly as its engineer could make it and backed onto a spur and out-of-sight. |
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