Revenge of the Dixie Devil by Kin Fallon, Alexander Thomas, Sylvia Lowry, Chris Westlake, Clarice Clique Page A

and intractable yearning for victory lingered in my heart as I observed the road from the portico of my house.
    I saw the union officer approaching up my driveway, emerging from the black vapours of battle as a startling vision. Astride a magnificent stallion, he casually admired the oaks lining the driveway, his eyes turning to the stately porticoes of the house. The mansion had been eroded by gunshot and lack of care, but I was determined to remain stalwart; the mere presence of a trespassing enemy would not dispel my devotion to the Confederate cause. I raised my skirts, true to aristocratic form, and walked forward to greet him.
    ‘How goes the battle, Captain?’ I smiled, my lips betraying a defensive irony.
    ‘The rebels have dispersed, but are perhaps not defeated.’ He wiped his brow in frustration. ‘But we’ll soon rout them, in the name of Abe Lincoln and the glory of the Union.’
    I crossed my arms, smiling politely in defiance. ‘I have little patience for Mr Lincoln, Jefferson Davis or conflict of any kind. I’m weary of the follies of this war.’
    The Captain sighed and waved dismissively. ‘Yes, lady, we all seek an end to the needless conflict that occurs when a nation is divided against itself.’ He glanced about nervously as if anticipating an ambush, finally extracting a sheaf of papers from his coat. ‘I’ll get to the point. I’m seeking the Dixie Devil, a lowly Confederate spy and marauder. Have you seen him? He’s said to operate in these parts.’
    I shook my head incredulously and laughed at the blunt announcement. ‘No, sir. I have never heard of this “Devil” and have no interest in such unrefined and violent personalities.’ My eyes turned to the papers in his hand. ‘And what are those documents, if I may ask? You must pardon a lady’s inquisitiveness.’
    ‘Plans, naturally, and maps. It’s a scheme to extricate the Dixie Devil from the face of this southern earth … But I reveal too much …’
    I nodded. ‘Naturally, the documents of your trade do not interest a demure civilian lady. But as long as you’re here, let me show you some hospitality after your long ride. Some coffee, perhaps?’ Beckoning, I led the Captain to my kitchen where I poured him a cup of viscous java from a diminishing supply; beans were rare in the wake of the Yankee invasion. He immediately settled into a tenuous ease.
    ‘Ah, very good.’ Drinking indelicately, he stared with fatigue at the floor. ‘And you’re sure, my lady, that you have not seen the Dixie Devil?’
    ‘Of course not! And why does this question demand repeating?’ Sweating from the infernal heat of the kitchen, I began to loosen my corset, relishing a liberating sensation as my breasts were emancipated from their wicked constraint. As I sighed with indelicate pleasure, a capricious thought entered my mind. ‘But Captain, I’m now getting curious. This “Dixie Devil” sounds like quite a provocative figure. The name suggests an individual who is elusive … Almost phantasmal, no?’
    He nodded and sipped his coffee. ‘Yes. He’s robber, a spy, and a scourge to the Union – but an undeniable will-o’-the-wisp, a very elusive quarry. During the battle of Wilson’s Creek, he managed to rob 15 men blind, seize a bag of union gold as well as Colonel’s Taggart’s maps. A superhuman feat …’
    ‘Yes, those are quite impressive achievements. But has anyone actually seen this “Devil”?’
    ‘No, my lady. Not exactly in the flesh.’
    ‘Fascinating.’ I paused in reflection, recognising that a delicious gambit was emerging. In the distance, I heard more desperate bursts of artillery, which impelled me to extend an impulsive offer. ‘I realise that perhaps I could help in your search, in my small way.’
    ‘Yes?’ He stared at me incredulously, stunned at his unexpected reversal of fortune.
    I nodded. ‘There are some things I’d like you to do for me, Captain. In exchange, I may offer a little