CHAPTER XXXIII.IN THE CAVE.
The cave was dry and comparatively comfortable, and Tom felt as he entered it almost like going home. Will Mather had spent a day and a night there, while better than all, Maude De Vere was with him, her bright eyes shining upon him through the darkness, and her hands touching his as she groped aroundfor the candle her uncle had said was on a shelf in the rock.
It was presently found, and with the aid of the match Maude had brought with her a light was soon struck, its flickering beams lighting up the dark recesses of the cavern with a ghastly kind of light, which to Maude seemed more terrible than the darkness. She was not afraid, but her nerves were shaken as only threatened danger to Tom Carleton could shake them, and she felt strangely alone on the wild mountain side and in that silent cavern.
Tom did not seem like much of a protector in that woman’s garb, but when, with a shake and a kick and a merry laugh, he threw aside the bonnet, shawl and dress, and stood before her in his own proper person, minus the boots, she felt all her courage coming back, and with him beside her could have defied the entire Southern army. There was water enough in the spring to wash the black from his face, and Maude lent her own pretty ruffled white apron for a towel, and then, when his toilet was completed, began to speak of returning.
“At this hour, and alone, with the road full of robbers? Never, Maude, never! You must either stay here with me, or I shall go back with you,” Tom said, and he involuntarily wound his arm around the waist of the young girl, who trembled like a leaf.
She did not think of Arthur then, or her promise to him, for something in Tom’s voice and manner as he put his arm about her and called her Maude, brought to her a feeling such as she had never experienced before. Perhaps Tom suspected that he was understood, for he held her closer to him, and passing his hand caressingly over her burning cheek, he whispered:
“Dear Maude, I cannot let you incur any dangerwhich I must not share. You understand me, don’t you?”
She thought of Arthur then, and the thought cut like a knife through her heart. She mustnotunderstand; she mustnotlisten to words like these; she must not stay there to hear them, and with a quick gesture she was removing Tom’s arm from her waist, when his wary “Hist!” made her pause and stand where she was, leaning against him, and heavily, too, as terror overcame every other feeling. Footsteps were coming near, and coming cautiously, too, up to the very entrance of the cave, where they stopped as some one outside seemed to be listening.
It was a moment of terrible suspense, and Maude could hear the throbbing of her heart, while Tom strained her so close to him that his chin rested on her hair, and she felt his breath upon her cheek.
“Maude,—sister Maude,” came reassuringly in a low whisper, and with a cry Maude burst away from Tom, exclaiming:
“Charlie, what brings you here?”
He explained to her why he was there, and that she must stay all night, and with a shudder as she thought of what might befall her uncle, Maude acquiesced in the decree, feeling glad that Charlie was with them, a hindrance and preventive to the utterance of words she must not hear. A hindrance he was, it is true, but not a total preventive, for by and by the tired boy’s eyes began to droop as drowsiness stole over him, and when Tom made him a bed with Lois’s dress and shawl, and bade him lie down and sleep, he did so at once, after first offering the impromptu couch to Maude.
Seen by the dim candle-light, Maude’s face was very white, and her eyes shone like burning coals as shewatched Captain Carleton, and guessed his motive. Had there been no Arthur in the way, she would not have shrunk from Captain Carleton; but with that haunting memory she could have shrieked aloud when she saw the weary lids droop over Charlie’s eyes, and knew by his regular breathing that he was asleep.
Tom knew it as soon as she did, but for a time he kept silence; then he came close to her, and sitting down by her side, said, softly:
“Maude, you and I have been very strangely thrown together, and as I once said to you, there is a meaning in it, if we will but find it. Shall I try and solve it for you, or do you know yourself what is in my mind?”
She did know, but she could not answer; and her face drooped over her brother, whose head she had pillowed upon her lap.
“Perhaps this is not the fitting place for me to speak,” Tom continued, “but if the morning finds me in safety, I must be gone, and no one can guess when we may meet again. Let me tell you, Maude, of my early life before ever I saw or dreamed of you.”
Surely she might hear this, and the bowed head lifted itself a little, while Captain Carleton told first of his home in Boston, of beautiful little Rose, and saucy, dark-eyed Jimmie, and then of the pale, proud Mary, his early manhood’s love, who at the last had lost the pride and hauteur inherited from her race, and had died so gentle and lowly, and gone where her husband one day hoped to meet her. Then there came a pause, and Tom was thinking of a night when poor Jimmie sat by his side before the lonely tent fire, and talked with him of Annie Graham. Should he tell Maude of that? Yes, he would; and by the even beating of his heart, as he made that resolve, and thought of Annie, he knew hehad outlived his fancy for one of whom he spoke unhesitatingly, praising her girlish beauty, telling how pure and good she was, and how once a hope had stirred his heart that he, perhaps, might win her.
“But I gave her up to Jimmie. Annie will be my sister, and I know now why it was so appointed. God had in store for me a gem as beautiful as Annie Graham, and better adapted to me. I mean you, Maude. God intends you for my wife. Do you accede willingly? Have you any love for the poor Yankee soldier who has been so long dependent upon you?”
He had her head now on his arm, and with his hand was smoothing her bands of satin hair, while he waited for her to speak. He had dealt honestly with her. She would be equally truthful with him, and she answered at last:
“Oh, Mr. Carleton, you don’t know how much it pains me to tell you what I must. I might have loved you once, but now it is too late. I promised Arthur, if he would be kind to the poor prisoners and help the escaped ones to get away, and,—oh, I don’t know what, but I am to be his wife when the dreadful war is over. Pity me, Mr. Carleton, but don’t love me. No, no, don’t make me more wretched by telling me of a love I cannot return.”
“Could you return it, Maude, if there were no promise to Arthur?”
Tom spoke very low, with his lips close to her burning cheek, but Maude did not reply, and Tom continued:
“Maude, was the getting me here in safety any part of the price for which you sold yourself?”
She did not answer even then, but by the low, gasping sob she gave as she shed back from her hot brow the heavy hair Tom knew the truth, and to himself he said, “It shall not be.” And then from his heart there wentup a silent prayer that God would give him the brave, beautiful girl, who drew herself away from him, and leaning over her sleeping brother, sat with both hands clasped upon her face. They did not talk together much more, and once Tom thought Maude was asleep, she sat so rigid and motionless, with her face turned toward the entrance of the cave.
But she was not asleep, and her dark eyes were fixed wistfully upon the one bright star visible to her, and which seemed whispering to her of hope. Perhaps Arthur would release her from her promise, and perhaps,—but Maude started fromthatthought as from an evil spirit, and her white lips whispered faintly, “God help me to keep my promise.”
The night was very still, and as the hours wore on, and the faint dawn of day came over the mountain tops, Maude’s quick ear caught the echo of the fierce shouts in the valley below, and laying Charlie’s head from her lap she went out of the cave, followed by Captain Carleton, who wondered to see how that one night had changed her. The brilliant color was gone from her cheek, which looked haggard and pale, as faces look when some great storm of sorrow has passed over them. Her hair had fallen down and lay in masses upon her neck, from which she shook it off impatiently, and then intently listened to the sounds which each moment grew louder. Shoutings they were, and tones of command, mingled with the distant tramp of horses’ feet, while suddenly, above the tall tree-tops which skirted the mountain side, arose a coil of smoke. Too dark, too thick to have come from any chimney where the early morning fire was kindled, it told its own tale of horror, and Maude’s eyes grew so black and fierce that Tom shrunk back from her, aspointing her finger toward the fast increasing rings of smoke and flame, she whispered:
“Do you see that, Captain Carleton? It’s Uncle Paul’s dwelling; they have set it on fire. I never thought they would do that, though I have watched more than one burning house in these mountains, and have almost felt a thrill of pride as I thought how dearly we were paying for our love to the old flag; but when it comes to my own home, the pride is all gone, the fire burns deeper, and one is half tempted to question the price required for the Union.”
Tom was about to speak to her, when she turned abruptly upon him, and said:
“Captain Carleton, do you believe your Northern we men,—your Rose, your Annie would bear and brave what the loyal women of the South endure? They may be true to the Union,—no doubt they are, and they think they know what war means; but I tell you they do not. Did they ever see their friends and neighbors driven to the woods and hills like hunted beasts, or watch the kindling flames devouring their own houses, as I am doing now? for I know that is my Uncle Paul’s, and whether he still lives, or is hung between the earth and heavens, God only knows, and perhapshehas forgotten. I sometimes think he has, else why does he not send us aid? Where are your hordes of men? Why do they not come to save us, when we have waited so long, and our eyes and ears are weak and weary with watching for their coming?”
She was talking now more to herself than to her companion, and she looked a very queen of tragedy, as, with her hair floating over her shoulders, and her hands pressed tightly together, she walked hurriedly the length and breadth of the long flat rock which bordered a precipice near to the cave
Tom was about to answer her, when a ball went whizzing past him, while the loud shouts of the men, whose heads were visible beneath the distant trees, told that he had been discovered.
To return to the cave and take Maude with him, was the work of a moment, and amid yells of fury the drunken mob came on to where Maude, forgetting everything now except Tom Carleton, stood waiting for them. They would not harm her, she knew, and like a lioness guarding its young, she stood within the cave, but so near the entrance that her face was visible to the men, who at sight of her stopped suddenly, and asked what she was doing there, and who she had with her.
“My brother Charlie and Captain Carleton, the man whom you sought at Uncle Paul’s,” she answered, fearlessly, as she held with a firm grasp the dangerous-looking weapon, which she knew how to use.
“And pray, what may you be doing with the Yankee? asked one of the coarser of the men; and Maude replied
“I am standing between him and just such creatures as you are.”
While Tom, grasping her shoulder, said:
“Step aside, Maude; I cannot endure this. You, a girl, defending me! I must go out. Let me pass.”
“To certain death? Never!” Maude replied, thrusting him back with a strength born of desperation.
Charlie, who had roused from his sleep, and fully comprehended what was going on, caught Tom around the neck, and nearly strangled him, as he said:
“Let Maude alone, Captain Carleton. They’ll not harm her. They would only shoot you down for nothing.”
Thus hampered and importuned, Tom stood back a little, while Maude held a parley with her besiegersthreatening to shoot the first man who should attempt to pass her. She did not think of danger to herself, and she stood firmly at her post; while the men consulted together as to the best course to be pursued. And while they talked, and Maude stood watchful and dauntless the flames of Paul Haverill’s house rose higher in the heavens, and strange, ominous sounds were heard in the distance,—sounds as of many horsemen riding for dear life, with shouts and excited voices; and Maude became aware of some sudden influence working upon the crowd around her.
Then a band of cavalry dashed into sight, and all was wild hurry and consternation. But, above the din of the strife without, Tom Carleton caught sounds which made his heart leap up, and springing forward past Maude De Vere, he exclaimed:
“Thank God, the Federals have come! We are saved! Maude, we are saved!”
As his tall form emerged into view, a brutal soldier, maddened by the surprise and unavoidable defeat, leveled his gun and fired, recking little whether Tom or Maude was the victim. The ball cut through the sleeve of Maude’s dress, and grazing her arm enough to draw blood, lodged harmlessly in the rocks beyond.
At that sight all Charlie’s fire was roused, and the shot which went whizzing through the air made surer work than did the one intended for Tom Carleton. Tom was out upon the ledge of rocks by this time, grasping the hands of the blue coats, who were a part of a company sent out to reconnoiter, and who had reached Paul Haverill’s house just after the rebels had left it. At first they had tried to extinguish the flames, but finding that impossible, they had followed the enemy, most of whom were made prisoners of war.
Some months before, John Simms had been transferred from the Army of the Potomac to the Army of the Cumberland, and he it was who led his men to the rescue, doing it the more daringly and willingly when he heard who was in danger.Hewas a captain now, and he stood grasping Tom Carleton’s hand, when a piercing shriek rose on the air, and turning round, the young men saw Maude De Vere bending over the prostrate form of a soldier, whose head she gently lifted up, as she moaned bitterly:
“Oh, Arthur, Arthur! how came you here?”