Rebel in Time

McCulloch pushed his thumb against the open end of one of the loaded clips and extracted a squat cartridge, passed it over. 'Short and solid. The bullet weighs one-hundred and fifteen grains, the charge of powder six. The casing is made of brass drawn to shape on a special machine that is manufactured in the British Isles. The priming cap contains fulminating powder, the same sort that you will find in the pin fire cartridge. But the resemblance ends there. This is a centre fire cartridge and does not have to be inserted and removed by hand. The firing pin always impacts in the correct place. The recoil of the gun is harnessed to extract the spent cartridge, then insert a new one in its place.'

'So simple — and so obvious when you point it out.'

McCulloch nodded agreement. 'It needed but the design. The metal working and brass drawing tools were readily available. There is no mystery to this weapon. It is just better, cheaper, faster — and deadlier. I ask you now to imagine its use in battle. Soon the Union will be sundered, our South will be a country in its own right at last. The war that will surely follow could be a short, efficient war. Or a drawn out and deadly one. To be absolutely sure that the war will end at once — what must be done?'

'Why — march on Washington City, of course. It is poorly defended, the troops there raw and untrained. They would probably fight, probably make a stand at Bull Run, that's the obvious place to draw the lines.'

'It is indeed,' McCulloch agreed, smiling to himself. 'So what would happen to these troops if you were to attack them with five thousand horsemen — each armed with a Victory?'

'What indeed! It would indeed be a victory. We would be unstoppable. We would take Washington and destroy any troops foolish enough to attempt to take it back. The war would be won and the South would be free. To take its rightful place among the nations of the world.' He spun about and seized McCulloch by the hand.

'I am your man, sir. I will get the troopers if you will supply the guns. It will be done just as you have described it! Thank you, Colonel McCulloch.'

'No, Lieutenant Stuart, I am but the instrument. All the thanks should go to you.'

J. E. B. Stuart was only half-listening; his eyes had a distant look, as though he were gazing into the future and seeing the attacking troopers, the battles and the victories that his horsemen and this Victory weapon would surely provide.

Chapter 29

It was just after six-thirty in the morning when Hicks and Yancy knocked on the front door of the Blue House hotel. They had to knock again, louder, before it was opened by Mrs Henley herself, arms bare, face flushed from the kitchen fire.

'Do you know what the hour is? What do you mean bothering honest people with all that hammering at this time of day?'

'Sorry, mam, but we came to find a Mr Shaw who's staying here. Got an urgent message from Colonel McCulloch for him.'

'It's too early for messages. Mr Shaw's asleep and I haven't even made the coffee yet.'

'Well, we don't want to bother him, not when he's still abed. I hear tell he's got a nigger with him. Where he at? I can go and get him and he can stir his master up.'

'Out back in the stable. And I don't have any more time for jawing.'

The door slammed in their faces. 'You stay here,' Hicks said. 'Make sure he don't try to sashay out the front door while we hanging around the back. I'll see to that fire-raising buck.'

Yancy settled down on the steps while Hicks got the big pistol from the holster on his saddle, then went quietly down the alleyway towards the rear of the house. Yancy pulled a piece of grass and chewed on it slowly until Hicks returned.

'Gone,' Hicks said, pushing the pistol into his belt and pulling his coat down to hide it. 'Didn't think he'd hang around, not after what he done. That Shaw, he's gonna tell us something about that…'

He spun about quickly as the front door opened, then smiled as he saw the young girl standing there.

'You shouldn't mind mamma,' Arabella said. 'She's always kind of short in the morning.' She reached behind her and took a tray off the table there and brought it outside; there were two steaming mugs of coffee on it. 'Any friends of Mr Shaw's are friends of mine. Thought you might like this.'

'We're friends of his, all right,' Hicks said, winking broadly at Yancy over Arabella's head. 'This is sure fine coffee. I know he wants to see us. Do you think he's up yet?'

'He is. I brought him a basin of water some time ago. Just finish your coffee and I'll show you to his room.'

It took the two men only a minute to drink the coffee, then they followed Arabella up the stairs, waiting until she had turned away before they knocked.

'It's open,' Robbie Shaw called out when he heard the knock on the door. He was just finishing shaving and he looked at the newcomers in the mirror as they came in. 'Can I help you?'

'The name is Hicks, Mr Shaw. I work for Colonel McCulloch.'