Under Fire: A Tale of the Shenandoah Valley — page 59: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

D2 BURN AND DESTROY. A pretty red farm-house nestles under the shadow of a frowning hill. Back of the house a wide field, with a few negro cabins, and an immense barn, filled with Bian and ha n brook glides in serpentine winding across the road, and loses itself in a beautiful grove behind the house. 5 Over this creek a narrow bridge. This is one of the best roads in the valley, although as yet few of the blue-coated invaders have passed the farin-house in question. The roar of the distant artillery has brought the in- mates of the house to the gate, where they stand list- ening to the sounds of approaching battle. A trio of interesting people. And old man and his wife—both silver-haired, and rapidly descending the hill of lfe—not unpleasant looking people, yet bitterly disloyal. Beside the two, leaning against the low board fence, is a handsome young woman—a Southerner in every look and movement. Tall and slender, with heavy coils of black hair, and eyes large, black, fathomless—gentle at times, yet capable of glowing with a lurid passion that would carry all before it. This was Bertha McVane, from South Carolina, here on a visit at the home of her uncle and aunt, in the beautiful valley of the Shenandoah. The boom of distant cannon on this September morning had called the three without. It was an ominous sound, and brought an uneasy feeling to the hearts of the old couple. “That is the artillery, uncle.’ ‘Tt is, Bertha. I expect a battle of magnitude is in progress down the valley.’’ | ‘It is glorious!’ cried Bertha, her olive cheek flushing, a deep glow acc her eyes. ‘‘Karly will EOMICbOOKS: co