A Spectre of Power by Mary Noailles Murfree

WHEN very quietly in the sombre depths of the midnight Callum MacIlvesty, according to orders communicated abruptly to him by the commandant, groped down to the river bank, the vague current barely glimpsed by the scintillation of some star in the ripples soon obscured by the scudding clouds, he took his seat in a boat with only two dark figures, motionless, unknown, invisible, for traveling companions. The river under the shadow of the banks was as black as Styx, and as silent as Charon was the boat's crew. On the opposite side, the Indian town of Keowee lay hushed and absolutely still. Once a dog barked, apprised in some subtle manner of the enterprise going forward, for there was no noise of movement, no word spoken. At the fort only the window of the guardroom was alight, and one listening might hear or fancy the vague footfall of the sentry walking his limited beat. The gleam from the window was but a twinkle in the gloom, and only now and again a star shone out responsive from the clouds. The muffled oars did not rattle in the locks; there was hardly a perceptible impact as the blades were immersed in the water. The vague sense of gliding in the darkness away, swiftly away, from all the familiar world, from all that represented his experience hitherto and civilized life, whither he hardly knew, with whom he could not imagine, impressed Callum MacIlvesty's mind with a very definite repugnance for his errand, and for all the secrecy and mystery with which it had been invested. He wondered, as the sense of distance increased, as the shadow that marked the site of the town merged indistinguishably into the darkness, as the twinkle that indicated the fort glimmered afar off, then was extinguished utterly, whether his invisible and silent companions knew more of him than he of their identity.

"Captain Howard needna hae feared I'd set mysel' a-talkin'," he said to himself, realizing that the party had been thus unexpectedly and silently hustled off in order that naught might transpire of their mission, nay, that their absence might not even be noticed at the fort, till the scheme was well on its way to execution. "I'm nane o' the sort to be given to idle clavers."