"I--I will listen," she said falteringly, "to all you have to say".
It was a task I distinctly shrank from, but could not escape.
"Shall I not call in your father, and ask him to relate the story?"
"No; I would much rather hear it from you--tell me everything."
My heart throbbed at these simple words, and the thought suddenly occurred that possibly it was her loss of faith in me, rather than the death of Le Gaire which had brought such pain. If she had actually believed all the man had told her, it must have proven a shock, yet how could I now best counteract his story? It was not my nature to speak ill of any one, least of all the dead, but I must justify myself, win back her respect. Only the whole truth could accomplish this. There was a hassock nearby and I dropped down upon it. She did not move, nor turn her face toward me.
I began with my orders to report at General Grant's headquarters, so as to thus make clear to her the reasons bringing me to the Hardy plantation. I told about our night trip up the ravine, explained my ignorance of who occupied the house to which I had been, despatched, and how circumstances compelled me to remain concealed on the balcony, and thus overhear her conversation with her father and Captain Le Gaire. I even referred to our quadroon guide, and then it was she suddenly turned her face toward me.
"A quadroon--and claiming to have once lived here? Who could that be?"
"A servant slave of Le Gaire's."
"Oh, yes! Charles. I remember now--he ran away."
Somehow she seemed more like the Billie of old now, and I went on with greater confidence, barely touching on my sudden determination to prevent her wedding, the capture of the house, and our subsequent conversation together. As I approached the unpleasant interview in the parlor she sat up, brushing back her hair, and with questioning eyes on mine, exhibited the deepest interest. I told the rest, word by word, act by act, determined to thus impress upon her the full truth of the narrative. I could tell by her aroused interest that I was succeeding, while her questions gave me some inkling as to what she had been previously led to believe. After my account of the duel and Le Gaire's escape I stopped to ask,
"Miss Billie, do you believe all this?"
"Oh, I must! You surely would not dare say what you have, unless certain my father would sustain you."
"But is it hard to believe?"
"Yes and no. I--I wish to believe, because--well, because it is so disagreeable to lose confidence in any one who has been esteemed as a friend. Perhaps I am too loyal, too easily convinced. But--but I was told such a different story, and it seemed so real, and every fact with which I was acquainted appeared to confirm it. If all you tell me now is true, Lieutenant Galesworth, I hardly know how I dare look you in the face."
"Forget that, and let us understand fully. Will you tell me all,--how you came to protect Le Gaire, and what it was he told you?"
She was silent, her eyes shaded, and I waited, wondering if she meant to speak.
"Perhaps if you consent to do this," I urged, "it may help to clear up the mystery of his death."
"You have not told me about that."
"I know little beyond the discovery of the body," gravely, "and should prefer to understand all that passed between you before going on with my own tale. I have taken you already as far as I have witnesses to corroborate me--beyond that you will have to trust my word alone."
Her long lashes uplifted, the blue-gray eyes looking directly into my own.
"What is all that firing?" she questioned. "The house fairly quakes; is it a battle?"
"Yes; the contending forces have been gradually drawing nearer ever since daylight. The Confederate lines are being forced back, and when Chambers arrives in support this point may prove the centre of struggle. I am eager to get away, Miss Billie, to protect the lives of my men, but I could not leave with you feeling as you did--believing me a coward, a murderer."
"But I am ashamed to tell you--ashamed to confess I could ever have thought it true."
I touched her hand with my fingers, and she did not shrink away, or seem to observe the action.
"I am bound to learn sometime--wouldn't you rather tell me yourself?"
"Yes, for, perhaps, I can make it seem less bad, more natural. I was angry when you left me, locked here in this room. I was indignant at what you had said and done, and did not realize the military necessity for making me a prisoner. I resented your taking everything so for granted, and--and I believe I almost hated you. I know I lay down here on the couch and cried myself to sleep. I could not have slept long, and when I awoke my mind still retained its bitterness. I began to wonder what I should do; how I could turn the tables against you. I was not really locked in, because this side door into the next room had been left unfastened. Finally I decided on a desperate venture. There were horses in the stable belonging to the captured cavalrymen, and if I could steal out of the house, and reach the Confederate lines, a rescuing party could be guided back here. The idea more and more took possession of me, and at last I mustered sufficient courage to make the attempt. I slipped on an old riding skirt, and stole out quietly through that other room into the hall. I thought I could get down the back stairs unobserved, and then out through the kitchen. I had no idea you had placed a guard back there in the ell until I saw him."
"A guard!" I broke in. "There was no guard up here."
"But there was--just beyond the head of the stairs. One of your men too, for his jacket was pinned up, without buttons. I was close enough to see that."
"That's strange; I gave no such orders, and do not believe Miles did. Did you see the fellow's face?"
"Only in shadow--he was young, and without a beard."
"Go on," I said, realizing that here was an important discovery, "I will ask the sergeant."
"Finding the passage blocked I returned to my own room, but left this door ajar. The disappointment left me angrier than ever, but helpless. I could only sit down and wait, knowing nothing of what was going on below. I finally heard the two shots out by the stable, and went to the window. Three horsemen rode past the corner of the house, and then, a moment or two later, I saw a man running along, crouching behind the fence. I could not tell who he was, only he had on a gray uniform, and he suddenly turned, and made for the house. Once he tripped and fell, and got up with his hands to his head as though hurt. That was the last glimpse I had of him from the window. Perhaps five minutes later I heard some one moving in the next room. I supposed it was the guard prowling about, and kept still. Then the door was pushed open, and Captain Le Gaire came in."
"But where was the guard then?"
"I don't know. I asked, but the captain had seen no one. I cannot tell you how the man looked, acted, or exactly what he said. The first glance at him awoke my sympathy, before he had spoken a word, for his uniform was torn and covered with dirt, and his face all blood from a wound on the temple. He was trembling like a child, and could hardly talk. I washed his wound out, and bound it up before I even asked a question. By that time he was himself again, and began to explain. Is it necessary for me to repeat what he said?"
"I would rather you would; don't you think I ought to know?"
"I suppose you had, but--but it is not a pleasant task. I could not help but believe what he said, for he told it so naturally; he--he almost seemed to regret the necessity, and--and I never once dreamed he would lie to me. Then father said just enough to apparently confirm it all, and--and other things happened."
"Yes, I know," understanding her embarrassment. "You mustn't think I blame you. You have known me such a little while."
"But I should have sought after the truth, nevertheless, for I certainly had no cause to believe you capable of so cowardly an action. I--surely knew you better than that. But this was what he said: that you came into the room below promising to release the others, but threatening to take him prisoner with you into the Federal lines. He protested, and--and then you referred to me in a way he could not stand, and blows were exchanged. As a result he dared you to fight him, and you couldn't refuse before your own men, although you endeavored to back out. That you chose pistols for weapons, and compelled their acceptance. On the field, he said, you fired before the word was spoken, and while he was still lying on the ground, shocked by the bullet, you flung the derringer at him, cutting his forehead; then drew your own revolver. Unarmed, believing he was to be murdered, he turned and ran."
"And you actually believed all this of me?"
"Why," bewildered, "he was a soldier, and my father's friend. How could I imagine he would run without cause? His story sounded true, as he told it, and he was hurt."
"He must have got that when he fell--his head struck something. And is that all?"
"Yes; only we talked about how he might get away. He was here until father came for me, and then stepped into the other room. When I came back, he had gone. A little later I heard you searching the rooms, and went out into the hall believing it might be he."
"You saw nothing more of him?"
"No."
"Nor of the man you mistook for a guard?"
She shook her head positively.
"Only the once." Then, after hesitating, her eyes uplifted to mine. " Lieutenant Galesworth, you did not encounter Captain Le Gaire alive in the hall?"
"I never saw him alive after he ran from the field. The noise you heard was when I tripped and fell, my revolver dropping to the floor. It was then I discovered his dead body. You will believe this?"
"Yes," and she extended her hand. "I have been very wrong; you must forgive me. But how could he have been killed? Who could have had a motive?"
"Had Le Gaire no enemies?"
"Not to my knowledge. I know little of his life, yet surely there could be no one here--in this house--who would deliberately seek to kill him. No one would have opportunity except one of your own men."
I confess it appeared that way to me also, and the fact only served to make the mystery more baffling. I knew personally every soldier under my command, and was certain no man among them had ever so much as seen Le Gaire previous to the night before. They could have no reason to attempt his life, no grudge against him. Yet every Confederate was under guard, and the fellow Billie had seen in the hall wore our uniform, even to the detached buttons--she had noted that. If the man had been on guard, merely performing his military duty, there would have been no secrecy; he would have reported the affair long before this. But Le Gaire had been murdered, treacherously killed, without doubt struck from behind, and there must be some reason, some cause for the act.
"I understand this no better than you," I admitted finally. "I shall have the house thoroughly searched, and every one of my men examined. But I am afraid we shall be obliged to leave before the mystery is solved. Hear those guns! It almost seems as though the fighting was already within sight of the house." I stepped across to the window and looked out. "However it is all to the north and east, and there is still opportunity for us to get safely away into the ravine. I cannot understand why our forces have not taken advantage of it--in that way they could have struck the enemy a stunning blow on the left. There's a blunder somewhere. But we can hold the house no longer; only before I go I must know that you believe in me."
"I do," earnestly.
"And I am going to clinch that faith," opening the door into the hall. "Major Hardy, just a moment."
He turned back from the open window, his face flushed with excitement.
"The stragglers are beginning to show up," he exclaimed pointing, "and the boys are fighting like hell out there beyond those woods. And--and see that dust cloud over yonder; by all the gods, it will be Chambers coming up at last!"
"Then hurry here; I want to ask you just one question for your daughter's sake: Were you my second in the duel this morning?"
"Certainly."
"Why didn't you tell me, papa? Why didn't you explain that Lieutenant Galesworth was not to blame?"
"Well, I didn't want you to feel any worse than you did. You and Le Gaire were going to be married, and I supposed you cared a good deal for him. Someway I couldn't make myself talk about it, Billie; that's all."
Her eyes sought mine, but just then Miles appeared in the hall, halting with a salute as he caught sight of me.
"Nobody in the attic, sir, but things are getting pretty warm outside," he reported anxiously.
"The way is still open toward the ravine, Sergeant. Get your men together in the front hall at once. Never mind the prisoners; the major will release them after we have gone."
His heels came together with a click, and he strode to the head of the stairs.
"By the way, Sergeant," I called after him, "did you have a guard posted in the upper hall here this morning?"
"A guard? No, sir."
"Were you aware that any of our men had been up stairs since last evening?"
"None of them have, sir; I'm cocksure of that." "That's all, Sergeant; be lively now." My eyes turned toward Billie, and she held out both her hands.
"If we never know the truth, Lieutenant Galesworth," she said softly, "I shall believe all you have told me."
Her eyes were an invitation, a plea, yet with the major at her side, his face full of wonderment, and Bell close behind us in the hall, I could only bow low over the white hands, and murmur some commonplace. There was neither opportunity nor time for more, although I felt my own deep disappointment was mirrored in the girl's face. The continuous roar of guns without, already making conversation difficult, and the hurried tramp of feet in the hall below, told the danger of delay. It was a moment when the soldier had to conquer the lover, and stern duty became supreme. I hurried to the front window, and gazed out; then to others, thus making a thorough survey of our surroundings, quickly making up my mind to a definite plan of action. So swiftly had occurrences pressed upon me I had scarcely found time before to realize the rapid approach of this new danger. Now it burst upon me in all its impending horror. Already the results of battle were visible.
An hour before the pike road leading past the plantation gates had been white and deserted, not even a spiral of dust breaking its loneliness. Through openings in a grove I had looked northward as far as the log church and observed no moving figure. But now this was all changed; as though by some mysterious alchemy, war had succeeded peace, the very landscape appearing grimly desolate, yet alive with moving figures. And these told the story, the story of defeat. It was not a new scene to me, but nevertheless pitiful. They came trudging from out the smoke clouds, and across the untilled fields, alone, or in little groups, some armed, more weaponless, here and there a bloody bandage showing, or a limp bespeaking a wound; dirty, unshaven men, in uniforms begrimed and tattered, disorganized, swearing at each other, casting frightened glances backward with no other thought or desire save to escape the pursuing terror behind. They were the riff-raff of the battle, the skulkers, the cowards, the slightly wounded, making pin pricks an excuse for escape. Wagons toiled along in the midst of them, the gaunt mules urged on by whip and voice, while occasionally an ambulance forced its way through. Here and there some worn-out straggler or wounded man had crawled into shade, and lay heedless of the turmoil. Shouts, oaths, the cracking of whips, the rumble of wheels mingled with the ceaseless roar of musketry, and the more distant reverberation of cannon, while clouds of powder smoke drifted back on the wind to mingle with the dust, giving to all a spectral look. Back from the front on various missions galloped couriers and aides, spurring their horses unmercifully, and driving straight through the mob in utter recklessness. One, a black-bearded brute, drew his sabre, and slashed right and left as he raced madly by.
Toward the ravine all remained quiet, although here and there in the orchard some of the gray-clad stragglers had found opportunity to lie down out of the ruck. But the smoke and musketry gave me a conception of the Confederate line of battle, its left thrown across the pike with centre and right doubling back into the form of a horse-shoe, all centring on the Hardy house. Within twenty minutes we would be caught as in a trap. I sprang back to the stairs, and as I did so a sudden yell rose from the surging mob without, a shout in which seemed to mingle fear and exultation. Bell, from a side window joined in, and a single glance told the reason: up from the south rode cavalry, sweeping the pike clean of its riff-raff, and behind, barely visible through the dust, tramped a compact mass of infantry, breaking into double time. The black-bearded aide dashed to their front, waving sabre and pointing; the clear note of a bugle cleaved the air; the horsemen spread out like a fan, and with the wild yell of the South rising above the din, the files of infantry broke into a run, and came sweeping forward in a gray torrent. Chambers had come up at last, come to hurl his fresh troops into the gap, and change the tide of battle. Even the stragglers paused, hastening to escape the rush, and facing again to the front. I saw some among them grasp their guns and leap into the ranks, the speeding cavalrymen driving others with remorseless sabres.
All this was but a glimpse, and with the tumult ringing in my ears, I was down stairs facing my own men.
"Where are the prisoners, Sergeant?"
"Here, sir, under guard."
"Open the front door, and pass them out. We'll be away before they can do us any harm. Step lively now."
I scarcely looked at them, moving on a run at the threats of the men, but wheeled on Hardy, who was half way down the stairs.
"Major, what do you mean to do? How will you protect your daughter?"
"Stay here with her," was the prompt reply. There will be disciplined troops here in a few minutes."
"Yes, and a battle."
"As soon as Chambers gets up in force I can pass her back to the rear."
That seemed the safer plan to me, and I had no time to argue.
"All right, you and Bell are free to do as you please. Get your men out the same window you came in, Sergeant; I'll go last. Keep down behind the fence, and make for the ravine."
He flung open the door into the parlor, and we crowded after him, but were still jammed in the doorway when he sprang back from the open window with hands flung up.
"By God, sir, here come our men!"
They came like so many monkeys, leaping the balcony rail, plunging headlong through the opening, and crowding into the room. It was like a dream, a delirium, yet I could see the blue uniforms, the new faces. In the very forefront, flung against me by the rush, I distinguished the lad I had sent back into the lines the night before.
"What does all this mean, Ross? Who are these fellows?"
"Our men, sir," he panted, scarcely able to speak. "Here--read this," and he thrust a paper into my hand. My eyes took the words in a flash, and yet for the instant they were vague, meaningless. It was only as I read them a second time that I understood, and then I gazed helplessly into the faces about me, striving to grasp the full situation.
"HDQTS 9TH ILL. CAV.
"9:10 A.M.
"LIEUT. GALESWORTH:
"We advanced our centre and left at daylight,
and have driven the enemy from intrenchments.
Our right is under orders to advance up ravine and
strike their rear. We move at once. I send this
back by Ross, who will take twenty men with him to
help you. Hold the Hardy house to the last possible
moment. Our whole movement pivots there, and
keeping possession until we arrive is of utmost importance.
Hold it at any price. These are Grant's
orders."
"Who gave you this?--it is unsigned."
"The colonel, sir, I saw him write it."
"And they were ready to leave?"
"They'll not be more than an hour behind, unless something stops them--the whole brigade is coming."
I comprehended now--the plan was clear-cut, easily understood. Taking advantage of the ravine in which to conceal the movement, Grant proposed to throw a brigade, or even a greater force, suddenly upon the enemy's unprotected rear, thus crushing Johnston between two fires. The word I had sent back, disclosing the complete desertion of that gash in the earth by the Confederates, had made this strategy possible. And the Hardy house was naturally the pivot of the movement, and the retention of it in our possession essential to success. But the one point they had apparently overlooked was Chambers' advance along this pike. He was supposed to be much farther east, his column blocked by heavy roads. Instead of that he was here already, his vanguard sweeping past the gate, double-quicking to the front, with long lines of infantry hurrying behind. For us to bar the retreat of Johnston's demoralized men, safely intrenched within the house, might be possible, provided artillery was not resorted to. Even with my small force I might hold them back for an hour, but to attempt such a feat against the veterans of Chambers, was simply a sentence to death. These men, fresh, undefeated, eager for battle, would turn and crush us as though we were some stinging insect. Thirty men pitted against a division! Good God! if he could send these--why not more? Yet there was nothing to do except obey, and, feeling to the full the hell of it, I crushed the paper in the palm of my hand, and looked around into the faces about me. I was in command, and we were to stay here until we died. That was all I knew, all I remembered, the words, "hold it at any price," burning in upon my brain.
"Men," I said sharply. "My orders are to hold this house until our troops come up. We'll make a try at it. Who commands this last squad?"
A sergeant, a big fellow, with closely trimmed gray moustache, elbowed his way forward, and saluted.
"From H troop, are you not?"
"Yes, sir; we're all H; my name's Mahoney."
"I remember you; Irish to a man. Well, this is going to beat any Donnybrook Fair you lads ever saw. Get busy, and barricade every door and window on this floor; use the furniture, or whatever you get hands on. Miles, take the south side, and Mahoney, the north. No shooting until I give the word; we won't stir up this hornets' nest until we have to."
The newcomers stacked their carbines in the hall, and divided into two parties, going to work with a vim, while I quickly stationed my old men where they could command every approach to the house, seeing to it that their arms were in condition, and that they had ample ammunition. Within ten minutes we were ready for a siege, or prepared to repel any attack other than artillery. The rooms looked as though a cyclone had wrecked them, the heavy furniture barricading doors and windows, yet leaving apertures through which we could see and fire. Mattresses had been dragged from beds up stairs, and thrust into places where they would yield most protection. The front door alone was left so as to be opened, but a heavy table was made ready to brace it if necessary. Satisfied nothing more could be done to increase our security I had the men take their weapons, and the sergeants assign them to places. I passed along from room to room, watchful that no point of defence had been overlooked, and speaking words of encouragement to the fellows. After the fight began there could be little commanding; every man would have to act for himself.
"Draw down the shades, lads, and keep it as dark as possible inside. Lay your ammunition beside you, where you can get it quickly. Mahoney, we shall not need as many men at these windows as we will toward the front of the house--two to a window here should be sufficient. Carbines, first, boys, and then revolvers if they get close. What is that, Miles? Yes, detail a man to each window up stairs; two to the front windows. Have them protect themselves all they can, and keep back out of sight. Now, boys, keep your eyes open, but no shooting until you get orders. Sergeant Mahoney will command this side, and Miles the other, while I'll take the front. There is a corporal here, isn't there?"
"Yes, sir,--Conroy."
"Well, Conroy, you are in charge up stairs. I'll be there and look you over in a few minutes; I want to take a glance outside first."
The brief time these hasty preparations required had witnessed a marked change in conditions without. Where before it had been a scene of disastrous confusion, it was now that of disciplined attack. Chambers' men had swept aside the stragglers, and spread out into battle lines, the gray regiments massing mostly to the right of the pike, but with heavy fringe of cavalry extending past us as far as the ravine. From my point of vantage it all formed an inspiring picture, dully monotonous in color, but alive with action; the long dust-covered lines, the rifle barrels shining, the constant shifting of columns, the regiments hurrying forward, the swift moving of cavalry, and hard riding of staff officers, sent the hot blood leaping through my veins. And all this was no dress review. Just ahead they were at it in deadly earnest--barely beyond those trees, and below the edge of the hill. I could hear the thunder of the guns, continuous, almost deafening, even at this distance; could see the black, drifting smoke, and even the struggling figures. We were almost within the zone of fire already. Men were down in the ranks yonder, and a stricken horse lay just within the gate. Back and forth, riding like mad, aides dashed out of the choking powder fumes, in endeavor to hasten up the reserves. Even as I watched one fell headlong from his saddle, struck dead by a stray bullet. I was soldier enough to understand. Within ten minutes Chambers would be out there, hurling his fresh troops against the exhausted Federal advance, while those fellows, now fighting so desperately yonder, would fall back in reserve. Could Chambers hold them? Could he check that victorious onrush of blue--those men who had fought their way five bloody miles since daybreak? I could not tell; it would be a death grapple worthy of the gods, and the Hardy house would be in the very vortex. Whether it was destined also to become a charnel house, a shambles, depended on the early coming of those other, unseen men toiling up that black ravine.
Then suddenly there recurred to my memory that Major Hardy and his daughter still remained within. They had not departed with the others, yet in the stress and excitement their presence had slipped my mind. Nor had I seen them since the new recruits came. What could be done with them now, at this late hour, the house already a fortress, the enemy in evidence everywhere? In some manner they must be gotten away at once, safely placed within the protection of friends. Not only my friendship for the father, and my love for the girl, demanded this, but the fact that they were non-combatants made it imperative. There was no time to consider methods--already we were within range of the guns, and at any moment might be directly under fire, obliged to resist assault. I was up the stairs even as the thought occurred, and confronted Hardy in the upper hall. Conroy had him by the arm, suspicious of the uniform.
"That's all right, Corporal," I said quickly. "I had forgotten the major was here. Hardy, you must get out of the house--you, and Miss Billie at once."
His eyes glanced back toward the door of her room which stood open.
"I--I have no knowledge of where my daughter may be," he acknowledged soberly.
I stared at him in surprise, and then sprang forward, and glanced into her room. It was empty, except for a trooper kneeling at the window. I faced Hardy again with a question:
"Not here! Where has she gone?"
He shook his head, without attempting to speak.
"You don't know? Conroy, have you seen anything of a young lady since you came up here?"
"No, sir; all these doors was standin' wide open, and this Johnny Reb was prowlin' 'round in here. I didn't know what his business might be so I collared him. Ain't that right, Murphy?" appealing to the soldier at the window, who had faced about at sound of our voices.
"Straight as far as it goes," was the reply, "but maybe that guard back in the ell saw the lady afore we come up."
"What guard?"
"One o' your fellows," said the corporal. "Anyhow he had his buttons cut off. I guess he's there yet."
I was out into the hall as quickly as I could turn, Conroy and the major following closely. A dozen steps took us beyond the chimney jog, and to the top of the back stairs. There was no one there. The side doors stood open, and the narrow hallway was vacant. My eyes met the corporal's.
"Well, I'll be jiggered," he exclaimed. "He was right there by the second door when I saw him. I was goin' to post Murphy at that end window, sir, but I didn't think there was any need o' two men there."
"Did you speak to him?"
"I told him what was up, sir, and that he better stay by the window."
"Did he answer you?"
"He said 'all right,' or something like that, an' went back. I never thought anything was wrong; all I noticed particular was he had only a revolver, but most o' yer fellows was armed that way. I meant to get him a gun as soon as I had time." He strode forward, looking into the rooms. "He ain't here now anyhow, and I'm damned if I know where he could o' gone. Did I make a mistake, sir?"
"No, this is no fault of yours, Corporal, but it's strange nevertheless. We had no guard up here, but this fellow, wearing our uniform, has been seen before--Miss Hardy, this gentleman's daughter, saw him, and now she has disappeared. There was murder done in this hall this morning."
The corporal crossed himself, his lips murmuring as he glanced about, and then into my face.
"Murder, sir! The Confederate captain lying in yonder on the bed?"
"Yes; he was waylaid here, and struck down from behind. I found his body out in front of that door, the skull crushed."
"An' ye think that feller did it?"
"I don't know who did it. But I should like to discover where that lad hides, and what he is here for. We have accounted for all our men, and searched this floor inch by inch. I began to think Miss Hardy was mistaken, but now you've seen him also."
"An' Murphy," broke in the horrified corporal, edging closer. "Murphy saw him too. Bedad, maybe it was a ghost!"
"Ghosts don't talk, and I never heard of any wearing revolvers. Major, when did you see Billie last?"
I noticed how haggard his face was, and he answered slowly, his hands grasping the stair-rail.
"We were together in the front hall when your men came. You were talking loudly, and the new voices attracted our attention. We both went forward to the head of the stairs."
"You overheard what was said?" I interrupted, a new possibility dawning upon me.
"Much of it, yes," he admitted.
"The plan of attack?--the orders sent me?"
His expression answered.
"And what were you going to do with this information, Major Hardy?"
"Nothing. I considered myself a prisoner on parole. I merely proposed asking your permission to leave the house with my daughter before hostilities began. I started down the stairs for that purpose."
"And Billie?"
"I told her this, and sent her to her room after some things. Before I got down you had disappeared, and I returned up stairs. She was not in her room, nor could I find a trace of her."
I thought rapidly, staring into his bewildered face, insensibly listening to the continuous roar without. It was tragedy within tragedy, the threads of war and love inextricably tangled. What had occurred here during that minute or two? Had she left voluntarily, inspired by some wild hope of service to the South? Did that mysterious figure, attired in our uniform, have anything to do with her disappearance? Did Hardy know, or suspect more than he had already told? By what means could she have left the house? If she had not left where could she remain concealed? Each query only served to make the situation more complicated, more difficult to solve. To no one of them could I find an answer.
"Major, did you tell your daughter why you could not carry that information to your own people?-- that you considered yourself a parolled prisoner?"
He hesitated, realizing now what it was I was seeking to discover.
"Why, I may have said something like that. We spoke of the situation, and--and Billie appeared excited, but,--why, Galesworth, you do not imagine the girl would try to carry the news out, alone, do you?"
His doubt was so genuine as to be beyond question. Whatever Billie had done, it was through no connivance with the father, but upon her own initiative. Yet she was fully capable of the effort; convinced the cause of the South was in her hands, she was one to go through fire and water in service. Neither her life nor mine would weigh in the decision--her only thought the Confederacy. Still it was not a pleasant reflection that she would thus war openly against me; would deliberately expose me to defeat, even death. Could she have made such a choice if she truly loved me? Her words, eyes, actions continually deceived me. Again and again I had supposed I knew her, believed I had solved her nature, only to be led into deeper bewilderment.
"Major," I said soberly. "I do imagine just that. There is no sacrifice your daughter would not make for the South. She realized the importance of this information, and that she alone could take it to Chambers."
I turned to the back stairs, and went down, feeling my way in the gloom, until I touched the door. To my surprise it opened, although I knew I had locked it, and the key was still in my pocket. There were four troopers in the kitchen, and they turned at the noise to stare at me.
"How long have you boys been stationed here?" I questioned.
"'Bout fifteen minutes, I guess," answered the nearest. "Ain't that about it, Joe?"
"Not no longer."
"Room empty when you came?"
"Not a rat here, that we saw; did we, Joe?"
The other shook his head.
"Was that bar across the outer door there then?"
"No, sir, there wan't no lock on it, an' Bill rigged up that contrivance hisself."
I believed now I comprehended how it had occurred, all except the mysterious unlocking of the door at the foot of the stairs, and this fellow in our uniform that haunted the ell. To make certain I retained the key, I took it out, and fitted it into the lock. Still there might be a duplicate, and as for the soldier, I was hardly half convinced of his reality. Billie had acted quickly, under the inspiration of discovery, and all the circumstances had conspired to make her escape from the house easy. Miles had withdrawn his men on my orders, and we were all grouped together in the front hall. She had simply slipped down these back stairs, used a duplicate key, passed through the kitchen unobserved, and out into the garden. Where then? To the stable, without doubt, and, mounted, into Chambers' lines, taking her news to the highest officer she could reach. We would hear from it presently,--strange if not even already some of those troops were wheeling to invest the house. I called back up the stairs,
"Conroy, send Major Hardy down here."
The Confederate appeared almost instantly, his eyes anxiously surveying the room.
"Have you found my girl?"
"No, but I have satisfied myself as to where she is. Without doubt she came down those stairs, and out this door, while we were in the front hall. A battle-line is a rough place for a woman, and I am going to turn you out now to see if you cannot find and protect her. One of you men take down that bar."
The major stared at me, and then extended his hand.
"You--you don't suppose I sent her?"
"Oh, no, you have been most honorable. There is no reason why I should hold you here; the others have gone, and you may be of assistance to Miss Willifred. It is bound to be lively enough for us in here presently without prisoners to look after."
"But you have not accepted my hand, Lieutenant Galesworth. I wish to feel that we part friends."
"We certainly do," I returned heartily, grasping his fingers. "And--and I may never see your daughter again. There is scarcely a possibility that I ever shall. Tell her that I respect her loyalty to the South."
He stood looking directly into my eyes, grasping both my hands.
"You mean to remain here, defending the house?"
"While there is a man left alive."
"It is a pity--in my judgment; not war, but a useless sacrifice."
"Yet a soldier's duty, Major--obedience to orders."
He bowed, choking in the throat, as he lifted his hat. With one glance at the silent soldier holding open the door he passed out. Then he turned, hat still in hand, and glanced back.
"You may feel assured I will deliver your message, sir,--good-bye."
The broad hallway ran from the front of the house to the kitchen ell, and I could see its entire length. Several men were clustered at the other end, peering out through the narrow panes of glass either side the front door, and one came running toward me. It was the Irish sergeant.
"They're a-coomin', sorr--a bunch o' gray-backs. Shud Oi hay' the byes let drive?"
"Not until I speak to them, Mahoney. We'll give the fellows fair warning first."
I hurried back with him, and a soldier stepped aside to give me opportunity to look out. A glance was sufficient. A regiment of cavalry was halted under the trees of the lawn, the men dismounted and standing at the heads of their horses. Apparently they were, merely waiting orders. Riding straight across the grass toward the porch came a little group of a dozen officers, as I judged, although this was largely conjecture, their uniforms so dust-covered as to be meaningless. The carelessness of their approach, scarcely glancing toward the house, convinced me they had no thought of meeting any resistance from within--their only object the shade of the steps, or a possible glass of wine. To greet them with a volley would be murder, and I motioned the men to open the door just wide enough to permit of my slipping through. I walked forward to the edge of the porch, and stood there, leaning against a pillar. The approaching party was sufficiently close by this time so that I saw that one of the three in advance was Bell. Apparently I remained unobserved, but as they came to the gravel driveway I spoke.
"That will be quite far enough, gentlemen, until you explain your purpose."
They pulled up, astonished at the sound of my voice, those behind bunching about the first three, all staring open-mouthed at my uniform. Several voices asked, "What does this mean?" "Who the hell are you?"
"One at a time, please," I returned, enjoying their surprise. "This house is garrisoned by Federal troops at present, and we are not receiving callers--put that back! There are riflemen at every window."
"Don't be a fool, Brown," growled the man in the centre, glancing aside, and then facing back toward me. "Are you in command?"
"I am here to receive any communication."
"What troops have you?"
I bowed smiling.
"Sufficient for the purpose."
Bell, evidently short-sighted, was staring at me through glasses, and broke in,
"It's Galesworth, the Yankee lieutenant I told you about, Colonel. Say, I thought you left."
"Instead of leaving, Captain Bell, I have decided to stay."
"But, good Lord, you can't hold that house against us with only ten men!"
"You will discover we have considerable more than ten when you come to capture it."
They whispered together, evidently undecided how seriously to take me. I thought Bell was trying to impress the others with the idea that it was all a bluff, but my coolness made them suspicious. I leaned motionless against the post in apparent indifference. The gruff-voiced colonel broke the silence.
"Do you know we have a division of troops within bugle call?"
"Oh, yes, and they have got their work cut out for them. Your whole force is at it already, except the cavalry."
My tone angered him.
"There are enough in reserve to crush you," he retorted warmly. "I demand your immediate surrender, sir."
"On what terms?"
"Unconditional," he thundered, "and if I have to charge you we shall take no prisoners."
I waited for a lull in the firing, and they accepted the pause as hesitation. Then I stepped backward to the door.
"I regret greatly to disappoint you, Colonel," I said clearly, "but we have decided to fight. If you are not out of range within two minutes my men will open fire."
Without awaiting an answer, I stepped within and closed the door.