The sun was slightly above the horizon, still showing round and red through the slight mist of early morning, as the major and I passed down the deserted front steps, and circled the house on our way to the place of meeting. Under his arm was the leather case containing the derringers, and we crossed the intervening turf without exchanging a word. I was myself in no mood for conversation, and Hardy appeared equally inclined to silence. I glanced across at him, noting how straight he stood in his well-worn uniform, how gray his hair was, and the stern manliness of his face. From head to foot he was the gentleman and the soldier. By some chance our eyes met, and, with a quick glance back at the house, he stopped suddenly.
"Galesworth," he said quietly, his glance searching my face, "I do not wish you to have any misunderstanding about my exact position in this affair. The war is not personal with me. We differ politically, and I am as loyal to the South as any one, and you wear the Blue with just as much honor as I wear the Gray. But when it comes to men I stand with the one I believe to be nearest right. Le Gaire forced this quarrel on you deliberately; he was threatening to do it before you came in. In fact, his manner ever since our capture has disgusted me, and when he finally dared to drag Billie's name into the controversy, I naturally rebelled. If there is anything I despise in this world, sir, it is a bullying duellist, and, by Gad! that's what the fellow looks like to me."
"I comprehend perfectly, Major Hardy," I said, as he paused. "You are merely doing as you would be done by."
"Well, yes, that's a partial explanation. I prefer to see fair play. Yet I am going to confess that isn't all of it. I rather like you, young man--not your damned uniform, understand--and the way you've acted toward my girl. You've been honorable and square, and, by Gad, sir, you're a gentleman. That's why I am going to see you through this affair. If all I hear is true, Le Gaire came back to me with a lie, and that is something I have never taken yet from any man."
He stood straight as an arrow, his shoulders squared, his slender form buttoned tightly in the gray uniform coat. The sun was upon his face, clear-cut, proud, aristocratic, and his eyes were the same gray-blue as his daughter's. Then he held out his hand and I clasped it gladly.
"I cannot express the gratitude I feel, Major Hardy," I faltered. "One hardly expects such kindness from an enemy."
"Not an enemy, my boy--merely a foeman. I am a West Pointer, and some of the dearest friends I have are upon the other side. But come, let us not be the last on the field."
He tried to talk with me pleasantly as we crossed the garden, and approached the stable, and I must have answered, yet my mind was elsewhere. This was all new to me, and my mood was a sober one. My father was an old-time Puritan to whom personal combat was abomination, and even now I could feel his condemnation of my course. I regretted myself the hot headedness which had led me on, but without the faintest inclination to withdraw. Yet that earlier hatred of Le Gaire had left me, and his blow no longer stung. No desire for revenge lingered, only a wish to have the whole matter concluded quickly, and a hope that we both might leave the field without serious injury. It was in this frame of mind that I turned the corner of the stable, and saw the chosen duelling ground. It was a smooth strip of turf running north and south, with the stable to the left, and a grove of trees opposite. The building cast a shadow over most of the space, and altogether it was an ideal spot, well beyond view from the windows of the house. Hardy opened the leather case, placing it upon the grass, and I saw the two derringers lying against the plush lining, deadly looking weapons, with long steel-blue barrels, and strangely carven stocks. Someway they fascinated me, and I watched while he took them up and fondled them.
"Rather pretty playthings, Galesworth," he said admiringly. "Don't see such often nowadays, but in my father's time they were a part of every gentleman's belongings. He would as soon have travelled without his coat. I've seen him practise; apparently he never took aim," he held the weapon at arm's length. "Wonderfully accurate, and the long barrel is better than any sight; just lower it this way; there's almost no recoil."
The sound of a distant voice caused him to drop the pistol back into its place, and rise to his feet. Then Le Gaire and Bell turned the corner of the stable, stopping as they perceived us standing there. The major removed his hat, his voice coolly polite.
"I believe everything is prepared, gentlemen. Captain Bell, if you will examine the weapons, we will then confer as to the word and the method of firing."
"I prefer choosing my own pistol," broke in Le Gaire bluntly, "and loading it as well."
Hardy's face flushed, his eyes hardening.
"As you please, sir," he retorted, "but I might construe those words as a reflection on my integrity."
"When a Confederate officer takes the side of a Yank," was the instant angry response, "he can hardly claim much consideration."
"Captain Le Gaire," and Hardy's voice rang, "you have enough on your hands at present without venturing to insult me, I should suppose. But don't go too far, sir."
"Gentlemen," broke in Bell excitedly, "this must not go on. Le Gaire, if you say another word, I shall withdraw entirely."
The Louisianian smiled grimly, but walked over to the weapon case, and picked up the two derringers, testing their weight, and the length of barrel. Hardy stared at him, his lips compressed.
"Well," he burst forth at last, "are you satisfied, sir?"
"I'll choose this," insolently, and dropping the other back into its place. "Where is the powder and ball?"
The major pointed without daring to speak.
"All right; don't mind me. I always load my own weapon, and just now I am anxious to shoot straight," and he looked across at me sneeringly.
If it was his purpose by all this theatrical display to affect my nerves, he failed utterly, as instead, the very expression of his face brought me back to a fighting spirit. Hardy saw this, and smiled grimly.
"Step this way a moment, Bell," he said quietly, "while we arrange details. I reckon those two game-cocks will wait until we are ready."
The two officers moved away a dozen paces and stopped in the shadow of the trees, conversing earnestly. I endeavored to keep my eyes off from Le Gaire, and remain cool. It seemed to me I saw every movement of a leaf, every dropping of a twig, yet could scarcely realize the position I was in. I was about to face that man yonder--now carefully loading his weapon--to deliberately fire upon him, and receive in return his fire. I felt as though it were a dream, a nightmare, and yet I was conscious of no fear, of no desire to avoid the ordeal. I can recall the scene now, clearly etched on my memory--the outlines of the trees silhouetted against the sky, the dark shadow of the stables, the green, level turf, the two figures--the one short and stout, the other tall and slender--talking earnestly; the deep blue of the sky overhead, the steel gleam of the derringer in the open case, and Le Gaire loading carefully, his eyes now and then glancing across at me. Then the two men wheeled with military precision, and walked back toward us. I saw Hardy take up the second pistol, and load it in silence, while Bell whispered to Le Gaire, the latter with his weapon tightly clasped. A moment later the major thrust the carved stock into my hand, and I looked at it curiously.
"Gentlemen," he said clearly, stepping to one side, "we will make this as simple as possible. You will take positions here, back to back."
The sound of his voice, the sharp ring of authority in it, awoke me to the reality as though I had received an electric shock. I felt the fierce beat of my heart, and then every muscle and nerve became steel. Without a tremor, my mind clear and alert, I advanced to the point designated, and stood erect, facing the south; an instant, and Le Gaire's shoulders were touching mine.
"Now listen closely," said Hardy, his voice sounding strangely far off, yet each word distinct. "I am to give the first word, and Bell the second. When I say 'forward' you will take ten paces--go slowly--and halt. Then Bell will count 'one, two, three'; turn at the first word, and fire at the third. If either man discharges his weapon before 'three' is spoken, he answers to us. Do you both understand?"
We answered together.
"Very well, gentlemen, are you ready?"
"I am."
"Go on."
There was a moment's pause, so still I could hear my own breathing, and the slight noise Le Gaire made as he gripped his derringer stock more tightly.
"Forward!"
I stepped out almost mechanically, endeavoring not to walk too fast, and regulating each stride as though I were measuring the field. At the end of the tenth I stopped, one foot slightly advanced for the turn, every nerve pulsing from strain. It seemed a long while before Bell's deep voice broke the silence.
"One!"
I whirled, as on a pivot, my pistol arm flung out.
"Two!"
Le Gaire stood sideways, the muzzle of his derringer covering me, his left hand supporting his elbow. I could see the scowling line between his eyes, the hateful curl of his lip, and my own weapon came up, held steady as a rock; over the blue steel barrel I covered the man's forehead just below his cap visor, the expression on his face telling me he meant to shoot to kill. I never recall feeling cooler, or more determined in my life. How still, how deathly still it was!
"Th--"
There was a thud of horses' hoofs behind the stable, Bell's half-spoken word, and the sharp bark of Le Gaire's levelled derringer. I felt the impact of the ball, and spun half around, the pressure of my finger discharging my own weapon in the air, yet kept my feet. I was shocked, dazed, but conscious I remained unhurt. Then, with a crash, three horsemen leaped the low fence, riding recklessly toward us. I seemed to see the gray-clad figures through a strange mist, which gradually cleared as they came to a sharp halt. The one in advance was a gaunt, unshaven sergeant, lifting a hand in perfunctory salute, and glancing curiously at my uniform.
"Mornin', gentlemen," he said briefly. "Is this the Hardy house--Johnston's headquarters?"
The major answered, and I noticed now he had Le Gaire gripped by the arm.
"This is the Hardy house, and I am Major Hardy, but Johnston is not here. Who are you?"
"Couriers from Chambers' column, sir. He is advancing up this pike. Where will we find Johnston?"
"Take the first road to your right, and inquire. When will Chambers be up?"
"Within four or five hours. What's going on here? A little affair?"
Hardy nodded. The sergeant sat still an instant, his eyes on me as though puzzled; then evidently concluded it was none of his business.
"Come on, boys!" he said, and with a dip of the spurs was off, the two others clattering behind. Hardy swung Le Gaire sharply around, his eyes blazing.
"You damned, sneaking coward!" he roared, forgetting everything in sudden outburst. "By Gad, Bell, this fellow is a disgrace to the uniform--you know what he did?"
"I know he fired before I got the word out," indignantly.
"The blamed curb--yes; and when those fellows rode up he tried to blurt out the whole situation. Good God, Le Gaire, aren't you even a soldier?" shaking the fellow savagely. "Haven't you ever learned what parole means? Damn you, are you totally devoid of all sense of personal honor?"
"I never gave my parole."
"You lie, you did; you are here on exactly the same terms as Bell and I--released on honor. Damned if I believe there's another man in Confederate uniform who would be guilty of so scurvy a trick. Were you hurt, Galesworth?"
"No, the ball struck my revolver case, and made me sick for a moment."
"No fault of Le Gaire's--the noise of the horses shattered his aim. Lord! how I despise such a cowardly whelp!"
He flung the man from him so violently he fell to his knees on the ground. The look of amazement on Le Gaire's face, his utter inability to comprehend the meaning of it all, or why he had thus aroused the enmity of his brother officers, gave me a sudden feeling of compassion. I stepped toward him. Perhaps he mistook my purpose, for he staggered partially erect.
"Damn you!" he yelled. "I'm fighting yet!" and flung the unloaded derringer with all the force of his arm at my face.
The butt struck me fairly, and I went down as though felled by an ax. If I lost consciousness it could have been for scarcely more than a moment, but blood streamed into my eyes, and my head reeled giddily. Yet I knew something of what occurred, heard voices, caught dimly the movement of figures. Le Gaire ran, rounding the end of the stable, and Hardy, swearing like a trooper, clutching at his empty belt for a weapon, made an effort to follow. Bell sprang to me, lifting my head, and his face looked as white as a woman's. He appeared so frightened I endeavored to smile at him, and it must have been a ghastly effort. My voice, however, proved more reassuring.
"I'm all right," I insisted thickly. "Just tapped a little. I--I wasn't looking for anything like that."
"I should say not. Here, can you sit up? By Heavens! I hope Hardy catches him."
"He hardly will," I answered, struggling into sitting posture, a vision of the chase recurring to mind. "He was too mad to run."
Bell laughed nervously.
"I never supposed Le Gaire was that kind of a cur," he said regretfully. "I never liked the fellow, or had much to do with him. Blamed if I could understand why Miss Hardy--"
"Oh, he played nice enough with her up until the last week at least," I broke in, aroused by the name. "Le Gaire is good looking, and pleasant also when things are going his way. It's when luck is against him that he gets ugly. Besides, he had the major on his side."
"I happen to know something about that," returned Bell dryly. "It was talked over at headquarters. Le Gaire is rich, and Hardy hasn't much left, I reckon, and the captain filled him up with fairy tales. Some of them drifted about among the boys. There were others told also not quite so pleasant, which Hardy did not hear. You see, none of us cared to repeat them, after we realized Miss Willifred was interested in the man."
"You mean duelling?"
"No, that was rather mild; fellows in his regiment mostly cut him dead, and say he is yellow; generally in the hospital when there's a battle on. But Forsdyke tells the worst story--he heard it in New Orleans. It seems Le Gaire owned a young girl--a quadroon--whom he took for a mistress; then he tired of the woman, they quarrelled, and the cowardly brute turned her back into the fields, and had her whipped by his overseer. She died in three months."
"I guess it's all true, Bell," I said, and I told him of the boy. "He was our guide here last night, and it is just as well for Le Gaire the lad did not know he was present. Help me up, will you?"
I leaned on his arm heavily, but, except for the throbbing of my head, appeared to be in good enough condition. With slight assistance I walked without difficulty, and together we started for the house. At the edge of the garden Hardy appeared, still breathing heavily from his run. He stared at me, evidently relieved to find me on my feet.
"Broke the skin, my lad--a little water will make that all right. Glad it was no worse. The fellow out- ran me."
"He got away?"
"Well, the fact is, Galesworth, I do not really know where he went. The last glimpse I had he was dodging into that clump of bushes, but when I got there he was gone."
"Ran along the fence," broke in Bell, pointing. "You couldn't see him for the vines. See, here's his tracks--sprinting some, too."
We traced them easily as long as we found soft ground, but the turf beyond left no sign. Yet he could not have turned to the left, or Bell and I would have seen him. The fellow evidently knew this, yet if he ran to the right it would take him to the house. It hardly seemed possible he would go there, but he had been a guest there for some time, and probably knew the place well; perhaps realized he would be safer within--where no one would expect him to be--than on the road. This was the conception which gradually came to me, but the others believed he had gone straight ahead, seeking the nearest Confederate outpost. Able to walk alone by this time, I went in through the back door, and bathed my face at the sink, leaving Hardy and Bell to search for further signs of the fugitive.
As I washed I thought rapidly over the situation. Le Gaire knew that Chambers' force would be along the pike within a few hours--probably long before the appearance of any Federal advance in the neighborhood, as he was unaware that I had sent back a courier. The house was the very last place in which we would seek for him, and the easiest place to attain. Once inside, stowed away in some unused room, he could wait the approach of Chambers' troops, escape easily, and become a hero. The whole trick fitted in with the man's type of mind. And he could have come in the same way I had, sneaking through the unguarded kitchen--why, in the name of Heaven, had Miles neglected to place a guard there?--and then up the servants' stairs. I dried my face on a towel, rejoicing that the derringer blow had left little damage, and opened the door leading to the upper story. It was a narrow stairway, rather dark, but the first thing to catch my eye was a small clod of yellow dirt on the second step, and this was still damp--the foot from which it had fallen must have passed within a very short time. I had the fellow--had him like a rat in a trap. Oh, well, there was time enough, and I closed the door and locked it.
I talked with the sergeant, and had him send Foster to watch the kitchen door, and detail a couple of men for cooks, with orders to hurry up breakfast. Miles had seen nothing of Le Gaire, and when Hardy and Bell returned, they acknowledged having discovered no trace of the fugitive. I let them talk, saying little myself, endeavoring to think out the peculiar situation, and determine what I had better do. Already there was heavy cannonading off to the right, but at considerable distance. The battle was on, and might sweep this way before many hours, yet I could no longer doubt the complete withdrawal of Confederate troops from the neighborhood. Not a gray-jacket or flash of steel was visible, and everything about was a scene of peace. Yet when Chambers came this house would hardly escape without an overhauling. Of course he might not come this way, for Johnston could easily despatch a courier to advise another road, yet probably the line of march would not be changed. Should I wait, or withdraw my little force, at least as far as the shelter of the ravine? I cared nothing about retaining the prisoners, indeed was anxious to release both Hardy and Bell. Nor was I any longer worried about Le Gaire--especially his relations with Miss Willifred. I could trust the major to relate the story of the past hour to his daughter, and the captain would scarcely venture to face her again. It seemed to me we ought to go, as it would be no service to our cause to retain the house. However there was no hurry; we had ample time in which to breakfast, and--and, well I wanted to see Billie again, to leave behind me a better impression. I gave the major the key to her room, and asked him to call her for the morning meal, already nearly ready. She came down a few moments later, freshly dressed, and looking as though she had enjoyed some sleep. Her father must have given her some inkling of the situation, for she greeted me pleasantly, although with a certain constraint in manner which left me ill at ease.
Our breakfast passed off very nicely, the food abundant and well cooked, although we were compelled to wait upon ourselves. I asked Miles to join us, but he preferred messing with the men, and so the four of us sat at table alone. As though by mutual consent we avoided all reference to the war, or our present situation, conversation drifting into a discussion of art and literature. I realized later that Miss Willifred had adroitly steered it that way, but if it was done to test me, she could scarcely have chosen a better topic. I had come from the senior class of a great college into the army, and was only too delighted to take part again in cultured conversation. Bell had taken an art course, and Miss Hardy had apparently read widely, and the discussion became animated, with frequent clashes of opinion. I was happy to know that I surprised the lady by the extent of my information, and her flushed cheeks and brightening eyes were ample reward. The major said little, yet when he occasionally spoke it was to reveal that he was a man of unusual learning.
I shall recall the details of that meal as long as I live--the peculiar conditions, and the faces of those present. It was all so little like war, the only suggestion of conflict the uniforms we wore, and the dull reverberation of that distant cannonading. For the time, at least, we forgot we were upon the very verge of a battle, and that we were politically enemies. Prisoners were in the basement beneath, guards were patrolling the hall without, yet we laughed and joked, with never a reference to the great conflict in which all present bore part. Of course much of this was but veneer, and back of repartee and well-told story, we were intent upon our own problems. With me, now that I had decided upon my plans, everything centred upon Miss Willifred. I would search the house for Le Gaire, endeavor to have one word with her alone, and then retire to a place of greater safety with my men. The quicker I might complete these arrangements the better, and I could trust those present with some knowledge of my intention.
"Gentlemen," I said, as the party was preparing to rise, "just a moment. I am going to ask you to respect your parole for only a very short time longer. Of course this does not include Miss Hardy as she has refused all pledges to me. So soon as my men complete their breakfast, and a few details are looked after, we shall withdraw in the direction of our own lines. Naturally I have no desire to be captured by Chambers. I am merely going to request that you remain within doors until we depart. After that you may release the prisoners, and rejoin your commands."
The eyes of the two men met, and the major replied:
"Certainly, Lieutenant, we have no reason to complain."
"And Miss Hardy?"
"Oh, I will answer for her."
"That is hardly necessary, papa, as I will answer for myself," and her eyes met mine across the table. "I was angry last night, Lieutenant Galesworth, and unreasonable. If you will accept my parole now I give it gladly."
I bowed with a sudden choking of the throat, and Hardy chuckled.
"A very graceful surrender--hey, Bell? By Gad, this has been quite a night for adventure. Fact of it is, Galesworth, I'm mighty grateful to you for the whole affair, and, I reckon, Billie is also."
She arose to her feet, pausing an instant with her hand upon the back of the chair.
"Lieutenant Galesworth has merely made apparent to you what I had discovered some time ago," she said quietly. "I am sure he needs no thanks from me--perhaps might not appreciate them. I am going to my room, papa, until--until the Yankees leave."
"An unreconstructed Rebel," he exclaimed, yet clearly surprised. "Why, I thought you and Galesworth were great friends."
"Has he made that claim?"
"Why--eh--no. It was what Le Gaire said."
"Oh! I should suppose that by this time you would rather doubt the statements of that individual. Lieutenant Galesworth probably understands that we are acquaintances, and--enemies."
She left the room, without so much as glancing at me, Hardy calling after her,
"I'll come up as soon as I smoke a cigar with Bell."
The door closed, and his eyes met mine.
"What the devil is the trouble, my boy? That wasn't like Billie; I never knew her to harbor an unkind thought in her life. Have you done something to anger her?"
"Not to my knowledge, Major," I answered honestly. "Perhaps I was harsh last night, but I merely intended to be firm. This is all a great surprise to me."
He shook his head, and the two men left the room. I waited until certain they were safely out of the way. I was perplexed, hurt, by the girl's words and action. What cause had I given her for treating me with such open contempt? Surely not my avowal of love, however inopportune that might have been, nor my holding her prisoner. Could something have occurred of which I knew nothing? Could Le Gaire have poisoned her mind against me with some ingenious lie? It was all too hazy, too improbable, for me to consider seriously--but she must explain before we went away. With this in mind I passed into the hall, and began to ascend the stairs.
Miles had stationed a sentry just inside the front door, but he was the only one of our men visible, nearly all of the others being at breakfast in the kitchen. I felt no need of any help however, for Le Gaire was unarmed, and not of a nature to make serious resistance. Besides, if I was mistaken as to his hiding place in the house I preferred making the discovery alone. My exploration during the night had made me familiar with the arrangement of the front rooms, but not the extension to the rear. I stopped, in the silence, at the head of the stairs, to glance about, and decide where I had better begin. Miss Hardy's door was closed, even the transom lowered, and I instantly decided not to disturb her until the very last. Yet I was soldier enough to take the other rooms in rotation, realizing the danger of leaving an enemy in my rear. These were soon disposed of, although I made a close search, disarranging beds, delving into closets, and leaving no nook or corner big enough to conceal a man, unrevealed. I endeavored to accomplish all this quietly, yet must have made some noise, for as I rolled back a bed in the third room entered, I heard the door creak and sprang to my feet to confront Billie. I hardly know which was the more startled, for the girl staggered back, one hand thrown out.
"You! Oh, I thought--" she drew her breath quickly.
"You thought what?"
"Oh, nothing--only I heard the noise, and--and wondered who it could be." She looked about at the confusion. "What--what are you doing? Hunting for some one?"
"A needle in a haystack," I answered, suddenly suspicious that she might know something of the fugitive. "Will you help me search?"
"I--I hardly appreciate your humor," haughtily. "Is--is it Captain Le Gaire?"
"Why do you suspect that, Miss Willifred? Is it because you imagine the man may be here?"
"Because I know he got away; because I know your feeling toward him, your effort to take his life."
"You know! What is all this?" so stunned I could scarcely articulate. "Surely your father--"
"I know of no reason why my father should be dragged into this affair."
"But he was present; he surely told you what occurred."
"He said the two of you went out to fight; that it was a dishonorable affair. He gave me no particulars, and I asked none--I already knew what had taken place."
"Then you have seen Le Gaire since--is that so?"
She turned her back toward me, and stepped into the hall. The action was defiant, almost insulting.
"Miss Willifred, I insist on an answer."
"Indeed," carelessly, "to what?"
"To my question--have you seen Le Gaire since?"
"I refuse to tell you."
It was an instant before I found my voice, or could control my words. This was all most confusing, and yet the light was coming. Here was the secret of her sudden dislike for me. Her hand was already upon the knob of her own door, and she did not so much as glance back. What could I say? What ought I to say? Beyond doubt, uncertain as to her real feelings toward Le Gaire, Hardy had not revealed to her the fellow's disgraceful action. Some way, his brief explanation had merely served to confirm her previous opinion that the captain had been the one injured--such an impression she could have derived only from Le Gaire. It was equally clear I could not explain. She would scarcely believe any effort to defend myself. Why should she think me capable of a dastardly act? Why believe Le Gaire's hasty lie, and refuse me even a hearing? The thought left me so indignant that for the moment I felt indifferent even to her good opinion.
"Well, Miss Hardy," I said at last, conscious my voice trembled, "I am going to find this man if he is in the house, even if the search takes me to your own room."
"Then begin there," and she stood aside, the door flung open. "It must require great bravery to hunt down an unarmed man."
"I only know you are going to regret those words when you learn the truth. There is a mistake here, but one others must rectify. Your actions merely confirm my belief that Le Gaire sought refuge in this building. I am going to know before I withdraw my men."
She was not quite so defiant, not quite so certain, yet she did not move.
"Will you tell me--has he been here?"
"Why do you want to know?"
I hesitated, not really knowing myself, suddenly made aware that I had no true purpose in the search. My embarrassment confirmed her suspicion.
"Revenge, wasn't it?" scornfully. "A desire to complete the work begun yonder. I'll answer if you wish me to. Captain Le Gaire came here to me wounded, and seeking shelter. I helped him as I would any Confederate soldier. But he is not here now--see, the room is empty; yes, search it for yourself."
It was useless arguing, useless denying--the girl was in a state of mind which no assertions of mine could combat.
"Then where is he now?"
"I have no means of knowing--safely away from the house, I hope. I--I left him here when I went down stairs; when I came back he was gone."
"And you say he was wounded?"
"Certainly--you ought to know, the blow of an assassin, not a soldier."
She looked straight at me, her cheeks red, her eyes burning with indignation. Then, as though she could bear my presence no longer, she swept into the room, and closed the door in my face. It was an action of such utter contempt that I actually staggered back, grasping the rail of the stair. What in the name of Heaven had gained possession of the girl? What infernal lie had been told her? By all the gods, I would find Le Gaire, and choke the truth out of him. My head ached yet with the blow he had dealt me, but this hurt worse. I had a reason now for running the man down. Wherever he had gone, even into the Confederate camp, I vowed I would follow. But first the house: I could conceive of no way in which he could have gotten out--there was a guard in front, and I had locked the rear door. I went at the task deliberately, coolly, determined to overlook nothing. There was something of value at stake now, and my mind was as busy as my hands and eyes. How did he ever succeed in getting to Billie? I had locked her door, and taken away the key. It was not until I invaded the last room on the main floor that I solved this riddle--the two apartments formed a suite with connecting door between. However he was not there now, and all that remained to search was the servants' ell.
The hallway narrowed, and was lower by a single step, the back stairs at the left. There was no window, and with all the doors closed, I could see down only a portion of the way. The hallway itself was gloomy, the shade of the rear window being closely drawn. This, with the stillness all about, enabled me to hear the voices of the men in the kitchen below, and to become aware that the firing, sounding from a distance since early morning, seemed now much closer at hand. It was not altogether artillery any longer, but I could plainly distinguish the volleys of musketry. What could this signify? Were the Confederates being forced back? If so would the Hardy house be caught in the maelstrom of retreat? The possibility of such a result only made haste more imperative. There were three doors at the right, and two opposite. I opened these cautiously, half expecting Le Gaire to dash out, with any weapon he might have secured, desperate enough to fight hard. But nothing occurred, the rooms showed no sign of having been lately occupied. I was at the one next to the last when a board creaked somewhere behind me, and I wheeled about instantly, and ran back to the head of the stairs. There was nothing visible, and a glance down the front hall proved it also deserted--only the door of Miss Willifred's room stood slightly ajar. She was watching me then, fearful lest the fellow had failed to get away. This discovery added to my anxiety, and my anger. He should not get away--not if I could prevent it--until he confessed to her the truth. I ran back into the ell, fearful now that he had escaped through a window, yet determined to examine that last room. There was a rag carpet along the back hall, and, in the semi-darkness, I tripped, falling heavily forward, striking the floor with a crash, my revolver flying from my hand, and hitting the side wall. I was on my knees in an instant, thoughtless of everything except that I had come into contact with a body. The shock numbed me, nor could my fingers alone solve the mystery. I sprang erect, and threw open the nearest side door, permitting the light to stream in. Then I saw the man's face, upturned, lifeless--the face of Gerald Le Gaire. It seemed to me I could not move, could not even breathe, as I stared down at the motionless form. Then I touched his wrist, feeling for a pulse which had ceased to beat. A noise at my back caused me to start, and glance behind. Billie stood at the end of the narrow hall.
"What is it? Have--have you killed him?"
I whirled, facing her, indignant at the words, and yet understanding as swiftly the reason for her suspicions.
"It is Captain Le Gaire. I have just found him lying here."
"Found him! Yes, but not lying there; I heard the noise, the fall of his body. Is--is he dead?"
She stood grasping the stair-rail, shrinking back from closer approach, her white face horror-stricken. I drew a quick breath, fairly quivering under the sting of her words.
"Yes, he is dead, Miss Hardy," I said, knowing I must end the suspense, "but not by my hand. I tripped and fell in the darkness, causing the noise you heard. I am going to ask you to return to your room; you can be of no service here. I will have your father and Captain Bell help me with the body."
She never moved, her eyes on my face.
"Then--then will you permit my father to come to me?"
"Certainly--perhaps we will know then how this occurred."
"Is that your revolver lying there?"
I had forgotten the weapon, but perceived it now, on the floor just beyond Le Gaire's head.
"Yes, it was dropped when I fell," I took a step toward her. "You will go back, will you not?"
She seemed to shrink from my approach, and moved backward, still facing me, until she came to her own door. There she remained a moment, clinging to the knob, but as I emerged into the full light of the front hall, she stepped into the room, and closed the door. Some way, her action hurt me worse than any words could have done, yet I walked past to the stairs in silence, and called to the guard below.
Miles came up with the two Confederates, and a dozen words of explanation sufficed. Together we picked up the body, bore it into a near-by room, and placed it upon the bed. The man had been struck back of the ear, apparently by the butt of a revolver or the stock of a gun, the skull crushed. Death had been instantaneous; possibly he never knew what hit him. We examined the wound, and then looked into each others' faces utterly unable to account for the condition.
"By Gad, I don't see how he ever got that," said Hardy. "Nor this ugly cut here on the forehead. What do you make out of it, Galesworth?"
I shook my head, thoroughly mystified.
"I've told you all I know; he was lying there in the open when I found him--there was nothing he could have struck against in falling."
"That was a blow struck him," insisted the sergeant, "either by a square-handled pistol, or a carbine stock. I've seen that sorter thing before; but who the hell ever hit him?"
No one attempted to answer. Then I said,
"The only thing I have noticed which might be a clue is this: when I first came in through the kitchen I discovered a clod of fresh clay dirt on the back stairs. I supposed it had dropped from Le Gaire's boots. But there's no sign of yellow clay on his boots now. It must have been some one else."
"Trailin' the poor devil," ejaculated Miles. "But who was he? An' where is he now?"
None attempted a guess, looking blankly into each others' faces, and down upon the ghastly features of the dead man. We were all accustomed to death, and in terrible form, but this was different, this held a horror all its own. I could hear the heavy breathing, we stood so motionless.
"Major Hardy,"--and it was like sacrilege to break the silence,--"we can never clear the mystery standing here. I've examined every room on this floor, and there is not so much as a rat in any of them. Whoever the murderer was, he has either got away, or is hidden on some other floor--is there an attic?"
"Yes, but with no stairs; the only way to get there is by the kitchen roof. What do you propose to do?"
"Take a moment and see if I can think it out," I said, drawing a sheet up over the dead face. "There must be some simple way to account for all this if we can only get on the right trail. Come, gentlemen."
We passed out together, and stopped in front of the closed door. The firing without was growing so much heavier that all noticed it, Bell striding to the end of the hall, and thrusting his head out of the window. Still it was not close enough as yet to be alarming, and my thought was upon other things.
"Major, I wish you would go in and speak to your daughter," I said. "I told her you would come and tell her all you knew."
I watched him cross to the door, knock, and enter.
There was a narrow settee against the wall, and I sat down upon it, to think and to wait for Hardy's return. Eager as I was to discover the cause of Le Gaire's death, yet it seemed almost more important that Billie be brought to an understanding of conditions. Her father could scarcely fail this time to relate in full the details of our encounter, and the girl would realize at once her injustice toward me. I hardly knew what I dared hope as a result, but she was impulsive, warm-hearted, and would surely endeavor to make amends. Bell came back from the front of the house.
"Some fight going on out there," indicating the north and east, "and seems to be drifting this way."
"Our fellows are driving you," I replied. "Have been noticing that all the morning; looks as if your left and centre were giving way."
"Wait until Chambers gets up, and you'll hear another tune," his pride touched. "What's the sergeant doing?"
"Evidently going to get a look at the attic." Then, deciding quickly,--"I am going to turn you all loose, and try to get back to our lines, as soon as we can gain some understanding of this death mystery, Bell. It looks as though the battle would end up somewhere about here, and I can hardly expect to fight the entire Confederate army with ten men and a sergeant. It's a dignified retreat for me. Where now?"
"To help your man. I am crazy to get away. I'm a soldier, Galesworth, and they're wondering out there why I am not in my place. The earlier you say go, the better pleased I'll be."
He clambered out the window to where Miles was perched on the steep roof, and I was left alone, with no noise in my ears but the continuous firing, the reverberations already jarring the house. I found it difficult to collect my thoughts, or to reason out the situation. Everything had occurred so swiftly, so unexpectedly, as to leave me confused--the surging of battle our way, the affair with Le Gaire, his strange death, the thought which had taken possession of Billie, the skulking murderer hid somewhere within the house--all combined to leave me in a state of perplexity. I should have withdrawn my men before daylight; there was no sign of any Federal troops advancing up the ravine, and probably my messenger had failed to get through. It looked as though we were left to our fate. Every moment counted, and yet I could not leave until this mystery was made clear, and Miss Willifred convinced of my innocence. I was so involved in the tangled threads that to run away was almost a confession, and must risk remaining, moment by moment, in hope some discovery would make it all plain. Yet the longer I thought the less I understood. Le Gaire had come to Billie wounded--but how? His very condition had appealed to her as a woman. She had pitied, sympathized, and he had taken advantage of her natural compassion to falsely charge me with the whole trouble. How far he had gone, what foul accusation he had made, could not be guessed, yet he had sufficiently poisoned her mind against me. Then circumstances had combined to make the case still blacker. Doubtless to her it was already conclusive. I had been seeking the fellow alone, revolver in hand. She had overheard what must have sounded like a struggle, and there was the dead man, his skull crushed by a blow. Everything pointed directly toward me from her point of view--motive, opportunity. Who else could it be? Even I, anxious as I was, could not answer that question. I had seen no one, was not aware the dead man had an enemy about the place, could discover no clue except that bit of damp clay on the stairs. Yes, and my own boots were stained with it also--only I knew that lump never came from mine. These thoughts swept across my mind in lightning-like flashes, but brought no solution to the problem. Then Major Hardy suddenly appeared, closing the door, and mopping his face with a handkerchief. His eyes met mine.
"By Gad, Galesworth," he began, "woman is the hardest creature to comprehend on this foot-stool. I've been trying to understand them for fifty years, and am still in the primary class. You'd never have thought that girl of mine cared anything for Le Gaire to hear her talk last night, yet, now the fellow is dead, she is crazy. Lying in there on the bed, crying, and won't say a word. Only thing she asked me when I came in was what he had been killed with. I said it looked as if he had been struck from behind with a pistol butt, and then she collapsed. Couldn't get a thing out of her--just cried, and begged me to go away; said she'd be all right, if left alone. Blamed if I know what to do with a woman like that--over such a fellow as Le Gaire too! By Gad, I supposed Billie had more sense. When she wouldn't talk to me I proposed sending you in to explain matters. You should have seen her eyes, Galesworth, through the tears. Mad! I never waited to hear what she was trying to say. I reckoned the best thing to do was to leave her alone a while."
"You explained nothing?"
"No--what was there to explain?"
"Major," I said, every nerve braced for conflict, "with your permission I am going in there and have a talk with your daughter--may I?"
"Certainly, as far as I am concerned, but I don't envy you the job."
"I'll assume all risk, but I am not willing to leave her like this. Perhaps I understand the situation better than you do. You stay where I can call you if necessary, and look after the search for whoever got Le Gaire. Bell and Miles are out on the roof trying for the attic. I won't be gone long."
I have gone into battle with less trepidation than I approached that door, but never with greater determination to bear myself as became a man. Billie was going to know the truth just as clearly as I could tell it to her. I could not convince myself it was love for Le Gaire which had so affected her. I doubted if she had ever loved him. The fellow had played upon her sympathy, her pity, and circumstances had conspired to cause her to believe I was his murderer. This was amply sufficient to account for her feeling of horror, her evident desire to escape further contact with me. Hardy had been blind and blundering--had made things worse, rather than better; now I must see what I could do. I rapped at the panel, and thought I heard a faint response. A moment later I stood within, and had closed the door behind me. She was on a couch at the opposite side of the room, but arose to her feet instantly, her face white, one hand sweeping back the strands of ruffled hair.
"You!" she exclaimed incredulously. "Why have you come here? I supposed it would be my father."
"Major Hardy told me how you were feeling; that he could do nothing for you--"
"Did he understand I wished to confer with you?"
"No, but--"
"You decided to invade my room without permission. Do you not think you have persecuted me quite long enough?"
"Why do you say persecuted?"
"Because your acts have assumed that form, Lieutenant Galesworth. You persist in seeking me after I have requested to be left alone."
"Miss Hardy," and my eyes met hers, "has it ever occurred to you that you may be the one in the wrong, the one mistaken? I am simply here to explain, to tell you the truth, and compel you to do justice."
"Indeed! how compel? With the revolver in your belt?"
"No; merely by a statement of facts, to be proven, if necessary, by the evidence of your father and Captain Bell. I am not asking you to believe me, but surely they have no occasion for falsifying. Why have you not listened to them?"
"Listened!" startled by my words. "I would have listened, but they have said nothing. They have seemed to avoid all reference to what has occurred. I thought they were trying to spare me pain, humiliation. Is there something concealed, something I do not know?"
"If I may judge from your words and action the entire truth has been kept from you," and I advanced a step or two nearer. "I am not the one to come with an explanation, but your father has failed, and I am not willing to go away until this matter is made clear. Whether you believe, or not, you must listen."
She stared at me, still trembling from head to foot, and yet there was a different expression in her eyes-- puzzled doubt.
"You--you will have much to explain," she said slowly. "If--if I were you I should hardly attempt it."
"Which must mean, Miss Hardy, that you are already so prejudiced a fair hearing is impossible. Yet I thought you, at least, a friend."
A deep flush swept into her cheeks, to vanish as quickly.
"You had reason to think so, and I was," earnestly. "I was deceived in your character, and trusted you implicitly. It seems as though I am destined to be the constant victim of deceit. I can keep faith in no one. It is hard to understand you, Lieutenant Galesworth. How do you dare to come here and face me, after all that has occurred?"
She was so serious, so absolutely truthful, that for the moment I could only stare at her.
"You mean after what you said to me last night? But I am not here to speak of love."
"No," bitterly. "That is all over with, forgotten. In the light of what has happened since, the very memory is an insult. Oh, you hurt me so! Cannot you see how this interview pains me! Won't you go--go now, and leave me in peace."
"But surely you will not drive me away unheard!--not refuse to learn the truth."
"The truth! It is the truth I already know, the truth which hurts."
"Nevertheless you are going to hear my story. If I have done a wrong to you, or any one, I want it pointed out, so it may be made right. I shall not leave this room, nor your presence, until I have uttered my last word of explanation. I should be a coward to turn away. Will you sit down and listen? You need not even speak until I am done."
She looked at me helplessly, her eyes full of questioning, yet, when I extended a hand, she drew back quickly.
"Yes--I--I suppose I must."
She sank back upon the couch, these words barely audible, and I drew a deep breath, hardly knowing where to begin.
"I am a Federal officer, Miss Hardy, and my uniform is no passport to your favor, yet that is no reason you should be unjust. I do not think I have ever been guilty of but one ungentlemanly act toward you, and that was unavoidable--I mean listening to your conversation with Captain Le Gaire."
She shuddered, and gave utterance to a little cry.
"I loved you; with all my heart I loved you," I went on swiftly, driven by a sudden rush of passion. "What you said then gave me a right to tell you so."
"And was it because I was unwilling to listen that--that you did what you did later?" she broke in hastily.
"Did later! You mean that I consented to meet Le Gaire?"
"Yes--that you compelled him to fight you; that you--Oh, God! Why bring this all up again?"
"Merely because nothing occurred of which I am ashamed. Without doubt it was my love for you which caused the trouble. But I was not the aggressor. Did you suppose otherwise? Le Gaire deliberately struck me across the face."
She rose again to her feet, her cheeks blazing.
"It was the answer of a gentleman to an insult given the woman he was to marry," proudly.
"The answer to an insult! What insult?"
"You know; I shall not demean myself to repeat the words."
So this was what she had been told! Well, I could block that lie with a sentence.
"Miss Hardy," I asked soberly, "are you aware that your father refused to act for Captain Le Gaire, but went to the field as my second?"
"No," her whole expression indicative of surprise. "Impossible!"
"But it was not impossible, for it was true. Captain Bell had to be send for to second Le Gaire, and he did it under protest. Do you imagine your father would have taken my part if I had uttered one word reflecting upon you?"
She attempted to speak, but failed, and I took advantage of the silence.
"Major Hardy is in the hall, and will corroborate all I say. Perhaps I ought not to attempt my own defence, but this misunderstanding is too grave to continue. There is too much at stake in your life and mine. From what you have already said it is evident you have been deceived--probably that deception did not end merely with the commencement of the quarrel."
"Did--did Major Hardy truly second you?" she interrupted, apparently dazed. "I--I can hardly comprehend."
"He did; he even volunteered to do so. Le Gaire charged you with being unduly intimate with me, and your father resented his words. The man began threatening as soon as I entered the room, and finally struck me across the face, daring me to an encounter. I am no duellist; this was my first appearance in that role; but I could never have retained my self-respect and refused to meet him."
"You--you forced him to accept pistols?"
"In a way, yes. Your father convinced him I was an expert swordsman, and consequently he chose derringers, believing they would be to his advantage. The truth is, I am not particularly skilled in the use of either."
She looked at me a moment as though she would read clear down into the depths of my soul; then she leaned over against the head of the couch, her face hidden in her arm.
"I--I will listen," she said falteringly, "to all you have to say."