The Quaker and the Rebel by Mary Ellis

Author:Mary Ellis
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780736950510
Publisher: Harvest House Publishers, Inc.

“Slow down, Miss Emily,” Lila pleaded, hanging tightly to the side of the wagon.

“If we slow down, we’ll never make it to Berryville by dark.” Emily didn’t take her attention off the strong draft horse careening down the narrow road at breakneck speed. “And I have no desire to spend a moonless night in these woods.” She bobbed her head toward the overgrown swamp, filled with snakes and insects of every size and shape. “That wouldn’t make for a comfortable evening. We couldn’t move ten feet into these stunted pines, thorny Hawthorne bushes, and blackberry briars.”

Lila gazed into dense, moss-hung branches and nodded. “I agree, but if we throw a wheel, we’ll have a hard time explaining why we’re stuck out here. This is not the road back from Harper’s Ferry.”

Emily tugged on the reins, slowing the team. “You’re right. I’m just eager to be done with this. Dr. Bennington said the Union Army has taken Winchester and are encamped all around it. That’s not far from here.” A shudder ran from her shoulders to her feet.

Lila gave her an odd look. “Why are you so worried about running into Yankees? I thought you were a Yankee yourself.”

“I don’t wish to encounter soldiers from either side. Both would demand explanations as to what we’re doing out here. And the less said about that, the better.”

“We wouldn’t fool anyone that you’re a lady out for a drive with her personal maid,” huffed Lila. “Not when you insist on driving the wagon yourself. No mistress would ever do such a thing.”

“That’s another reason to finish and head back to Martinsburg, but you have a point.” Emily begrudgingly handed the reins to Lila.

It wasn’t the possibility of running into Union pickets or Confederate scouts that concerned Emily. Her steady stream of lies to Porter and Augusta Bennington had begun to take their toll. She also worried about involving Lila in her personal mission, and that the amount of food they gave the runaways wouldn’t be adequate for their trip north. When the wagon rounded the final curve and began the steep descent into the barnyard, Emily breathed a sigh of relief. Both women were so tired they didn’t notice trodden weeds or fresh hoof prints in the dirt.

Emily jumped from the wagon and hurried into the barn, leaving the door ajar in order to see.

“Hello? Hello?” she repeated. “I am Miss Harrison from Martinsburg. I received a message from Mr. and Mrs. Brent.” With the name of the previous safe house, she heard a slight rustle in the dark. Emily squinted, trying to focus in the thin light. To her surprise, an ancient black man with pure white hair and a deeply creased face stepped from behind the bales.

“Yes’m, I’m Jacob and this is my wife, Ruth.” The man had to be eighty if he was a day.

“How do you do?” Emily watched as he helped an equally old woman to her feet. Her arthritic fingers curled around a walking stick, and a white film covered her right eye.

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