An Original Belle

by Edward Payson Roe

  THE month of June was drawing to a close. Captain Lane, his surgeon,and a little company of wounded men, equally with the Confederates,were only apparently forgotten. They were all watched, and theirprogress towards health was noted. Any attempt at escape would havebeen checked at once. The majority of the Federal soldiers couldnow walk about slowly, and were gaining rapidly. Although they werenot aware of the fact, the Confederate wounded, who had progressedequally far in convalescence, were their guards, and the residentsof the neighborhood were allies in watchfulness. The Southernerswere only awaiting the time, near at hand, when they could proceedto Richmond with their prisoners. This purpose indicated no deephostility on the part of the rebels. Companionship in sufferinghad banished this feeling. A sergeant among their number had becometheir natural leader, and he was in communication with guerillaofficers and other more regular authorities. They had deemed itbest to let events take their course for a time. Lee's northwardadvance absorbed general attention, although little as yet wasknown about it on that remote plantation. The Union men were beinghealed and fed at no cost to the Confederates, and could be takenaway at the time when their removal could be accomplished with theleast trouble.

  Lane himself was the chief cause of delay. He was doing well,but his wound was of a peculiar nature, and any great exertion orexposure might yet cause fatal results. This fact had become knownto the rebel sergeant, and since the captain was the principalprize, and they were all very comfortable, he had advised delay.It had been thought best not to inform the family as to the stateof affairs, lest it should in some way become known to Lane andthe surgeon, and lead to attempted escape. The Barkdales, moreover,were high-strung people, and might entertain some chivalric ideasabout turning over their guests to captivity.

  "They might have a ridiculous woman's notion about the matter,"said one of these secret advisers.

  Lane and McAllister, however, were becoming exceedingly solicitousconcerning the future. The former did not base much hope on Suwanee'sevident expectation that when he was well enough he would go tohis friends as a matter of course. He knew that he and his men werein the enemy's hands, and that they would naturally be regardedas captives. He had a horror of going to a Southern prison and ofenduring weeks and perhaps months of useless inactivity. He andMcAllister began to hold whispered consultations. His mind revoltedat the thought of leaving his men, and of departing stealthily fromthe family that had been so kind. And yet if they were all taken toRichmond he would be separated from the men, and could do nothingfor them. Matter-of-fact McAllister had no doubts or scruples.

  "Of course we should escape at once if your wound justified theattempt."

  On the 29th of June Lane and the surgeon walked some littledistance from the house, and became satisfied that they were underthe surveillance of the rebel sergeant and his men. This fact sotroubled Lane that Suwanee noticed his abstraction and asked himin the evening what was worrying him. The moonlight fell full onher lovely, sympathetic face.

  "Miss Suwanee," he said, gravely, "I've been your guest about amonth. Are you not tired of me yet?"

  "That's a roundabout way of saying you are tired of us."

  "I beg your pardon: it is not. But, in all sincerity, I should begetting back to duty, were it possible."

  "Your wound is not sufficiently healed," she said, earnestly, wonderingat the chill of fear that his words had caused. "The surgeon saysit is not."

  "Don't you know?" he whispered.

  "Know what?" she almost gasped.

  "That I'm a prisoner."

  She sprung to her feet and was about to utter some passionateexclamation; but he said, hastily, "Oh, hush, or I'm lost. I believethat eyes are upon me all the time."

  "Heigho!" she exclaimed, walking to the edge of the veranda, "Iwish I knew what General Lee was doing. We are expecting to hearof another great battle every day;" and she swept the vicinity witha seemingly careless glance, detecting a dark outline behind someshrubbery not far away. Instantly she sprung down the steps andconfronted the rebel sergeant.

  "What are you doing here?" she asked, indignantly.

  "My duty," was the stolid reply.

  "Find duty elsewhere then," she said, haughtily.

  The man slunk away, and she returned to Lane, who remarked,significantly, "Now you understand me."

  It was evident that she was deeply excited, and immediately she beganto speak in a voice that trembled with anger and other emotions."This is terrible. I had not thought--indeed it cannot be. My fatherwould not permit it. The laws of war would apply, I suppose, toyour enlisted men, but that you and Surgeon McAllister, who havebeen our guests and have sat at our table, should be taken from ourhospitality into captivity is monstrous. In permitting it, I seemto share in a mean, dishonorable thing."

  "How characteristic your words and actions are!" said Lane, gently."It would be easy to calculate your orbit. I fear you cannot helpyourself. You forget, too, that I was the means of sending to prisoneven your Major Denham."

  "Major Denham is nothing--" she began, impetuously, then hesitated,and he saw the rich color mantling her face even in the moonlight.After a second or two she added: "Our officers were captured infair fight. That is very different from taking a wounded man anda guest."

  "Not a guest in the ordinary sense of the word. You see I canbe fair to your people, unspeakably as I dread captivity. It willnot be so hard for McAllister, for surgeons are not treated likeordinary prisoners. His remaining, however, was a brave, unselfishact;" and Lane spoke in tones of deep regret.

  "It must not be," she said, sternly.

  "Miss Suwanee,"--and his voice was scarcely audible,--"do you thinkwe can be overheard?"

  "No," she replied, in like tones. "Roberta and mamma are incapableof listening."

  "I was not thinking of them. I must speak quickly. I don't wish toinvolve you, but the surgeon and I must try to escape, for I wouldalmost rather die than be taken prisoner. Deep as is my longingfor liberty I could not leave you without a word, and my trust inthe chivalric feeling that you have just evinced is so deep as toconvince me that I can speak to you safely. I shall not tell youanything to compromise you. You have only to be blind and deaf ifyou see or hear anything."

  Her tears were now falling fast, but she did not move, lest observanteyes should detect her emotion.

  "Heaven bless your good, kind heart!" he continued, in a low, earnesttone. "Whether I live or die, I wish you to know that your memorywill ever be sacred to me, like that of my mother and one other.Be assured that the life you have done so much to save is alwaysat your command. Whenever I can serve you or yours you can counton all that I am or can do. Suwanee, I shall be a better man forhaving known you. You don't half appreciate yourself, and everysucceeding day has only proved how true my first impressions were."

  She did not answer, and he felt that it would be dangerous toprolong the interview. They entered the house together. As theywent up the stairs she pressed her handkerchief to her eyes, hewondering at her silence and emotion. At the landing in the duskyhall-way he raised her hand to his lips.

  There was not a trace of gallantry in the act, and she knew it. Itwas only the crowning token of that recognition at which she hadwondered from the first. She realized that it was only the homageof a knightly man and the final expression of his gratitude; butit overwhelmed her, and she longed to escape with the terriblerevelation which had come to her at last. She could not repress alow sob, and, giving his hand a quick, strong pressure, she fledto her room.

  "Can it be possible?" he thought. "Oh! if I have wounded that heart,however unintentionally, I shall never forgive myself."

  "Lane," whispered McAllister, when the former entered his room,"there are guards about the house."

  "I'm not surprised," was the despondent reply. "We are prisoners."

  "Does the family know it?"

  He told him how Suwanee had detected the espionage of the rebelsergeant.

  "Wouldn't she help us?"

  "I sha
ll not ask her to. I shall not compromise her with her people."

  "No, by thunder! I'd rather spend my life in prison than harm her.What shall we do?"

  "We must put our light out soon, and take turns in watching forthe slightest opportunity. You lie down first. I do not feel sleepy."

  After making some slight preparations the doctor slept, and it waswell on towards morning before Lane's crowding thoughts permittedhim to seek repose. He then wakened McAllister and said, "There hasbeen a stealthy relief of guards thus far, and I've seen no chancewhatever."

  The doctor was equally satisfied that any attempt to escape wouldbe fruitless.

  Suwanee's vigil that night was bitter and terrible, indeed. Herproud, passionate nature writhed under the truth that she had givenher heart, unsought, to a Northern officer,--to one who had fromthe first made it clear that his love had been bestowed on another.She felt that she could not blame him. His frankness had been almostequal to that of her own brothers, and he had satisfied her thatthey could scarcely be more loyal to her than he would be. She coulddetect no flaw in his bearing towards her. He had not disguisedhis admiration, his abundant enjoyment of her society, but allexpression of his regard had been tinged with respect and gratituderather than gallantry. He perhaps had thought that her knowledgeof his attitude towards Miss Vosburgh was an ample safeguard, ifany were needed. Alas! it had been the chief cause of her fatalblindness. She had not dreamed of danger for him or herself intheir companionship. Nothing was clearer than that he expected andwished no such result. It was well for Lane that this was true,for she would have been a dangerous girl to trifle with.

  But she recognized the truth. Before, love had been to her a thingof poetry, romance, and dreams. Now it was a terrible reality.Her heart craved with intense longing what she felt it could neverpossess.

  At last, wearied and exhausted by her deep emotion, she sighed:"Perhaps it is better as it is. Even if he had been a lover, thebloody chasm of war would have separated us, but it seems cruel thatGod should permit such an overwhelming misfortune to come upon anunsuspecting, inexperienced girl. Why was I so made that I could,unconsciously, give my very soul to this stranger? yet he is not astranger. Events have made me better acquainted with him than withany other man. I know that he has kept no secrets from me. Therewas nothing to conceal. All has been simple, straightforward, andhonorable. It is to the man himself, in his crystal integrity, thatmy heart has bowed, and then--that was his chief power--he mademe feel that I was not unworthy. He taught me to respect my ownnature, and to aspire to all that was good and true.

  "After all, perhaps I am condemning myself too harshly,--perhapsthe truth that my heart acknowledged such a man as master is proofthat his estimate of me is not wholly wrong. Were there not somekinship of spirit between us, this could not be; but the secretmust remain between me and God."

  Lane, tormented by the fear suggested by Suwanee's manner on theprevious evening, dreaded to meet her again, but at first he wasreassured. Never had she been more brilliant and frolicsome than atthe breakfast-table that morning. Never had poor McAllister beenmore at his wits' end to know how to reply to her bewilderingsallies of good-natured badinage. Every vulnerable point of Northerncharacter received her delicate satire. Lane himself did not escapeher light shafts. He made no defence, but smiled or laughed atevery palpable hit. The girl's pallor troubled him, and somethingin her eyes that suggested suffering. There came a time when hecould scarcely think of that day without tears, believing that nosoldier on either side ever displayed more heroism than did thewounded girl.

  He and the surgeon walked out again, and saw that they were watched.He found that his men had become aware of the truth and had submittedto the inevitable. They were far from the Union lines, and notstrong enough to attempt an escape through a hostile country. Lanevirtually gave up, and began to feel that the best course would beto submit quietly and look forward to a speedy exchange. He longedfor a few more hours with Suwanee, but imagined that she avoidedhim. There was no abatement of her cordiality, but she appearedpreoccupied.

  After dinner a Confederate officer called and asked for MissRoberta, who, after the interview, returned to her mother's roomwith a troubled expression. Suwanee was there, calmly plying herneedle. She knew what the call meant.

  "I suppose it's all right, and that we can't help ourselves,"Roberta began, "but it annoys me nevertheless. Lieutenant Macklin,who has just left, has said that our own men and the Union soldiersare now well enough to be taken to Richmond, and that he will startwith them to-morrow morning. Of course I have no regrets respectingthe enlisted men, and am glad they are going, for they are provinga heavy burden to us; but my feelings revolt at the thought thatCaptain Lane and the surgeon should be taken to prison from ourhome."

  "I don't wonder," said Suwanee, indignantly; "but then what's theuse? we can't help ourselves. I suppose it is the law of war."

  "Well, I'm glad you are so sensible about it. I feared you wouldfeel a hundred-fold worse than I, you and the captain have becomesuch good friends. Indeed, I have even imagined that he was indanger of becoming something more. I caught him looking at you atdinner as if you were a saint 'whom infidels might adore.' His homageto our flirtatious little Suwanee has been a rich joke from thefirst. I suppose, however, there may have been a vein of calculationin it all, for I don't think any Yankee--"

  "Hush," said Suwanee, hotly; "Captain Lane is still our guest,and he is above calculation. I shall not permit him to be insultedbecause he has over-estimated me."

  "Why, Suwanee, I did not mean to insult him. You have transfixedhim with a dozen shafts of satire to-day, and as for poor SurgeonMcAllister--"

  "That was to their faces," interrupted Suwanee, hastily.

  "Suwanee is right," said Mrs. Barkdale, smiling. "Captain Lane hashad the sense to see that my little girl is good-hearted in spiteof her nonsense."

  The girl's lip was quivering but she concealed the fact by savagelybiting off her thread, and then was impassive again.

  "I sincerely regret with you both," resumed their mother, "thatthese two gentlemen must go from our home to prison, especiallyso since receiving a letter from Captain Lane, couched in terms ofthe strongest respect and courtesy, and enclosing a hundred dollarsin Northern money as a slight compensation--so he phrased it--forwhat had been done for his men. Of course he meant to includehimself and the surgeon, but had too much delicacy to mention thefact. He also stated that he would have sent more, but that it wasnearly all they had."

  "You did not keep the money!" exclaimed the two girls in the samebreath.

  "I do not intend to keep it," said the lady, quietly, "and shallhand it back to him with suitable acknowledgments. I only mentionthe fact to convince Roberta that Captain Lane is not the typicalYankee, and we have much reason to be thankful that men of a differentstamp were not quartered upon us. And yet," continued the matron,with a deep sigh, "you little know how sorely we need the money.Your father's and brothers' pay is losing its purchasing power.The people about here all profess to be very hot for the South,but when you come to buy anything from them what they call 'Linkummoney' goes ten times as far. We have never known anything butprofusion, but now we are on the verge of poverty."

  "Oh, well," said Suwanee, recklessly, "starving isn't the worstthing that could happen."

  "Alas! my child, you can't realize what poverty means. Your heartis as free from care as the birds around us, and, like them, youthink you will be provided for."

  The girl sprung up with a ringing laugh, and kissed her mother asshe exclaimed, "I'll cut off my hair, put on one of brother Bob'sold suits, and enlist;" and then she left the room.

  At supper there was a constraint on all except Suwanee. Mrs. Barkdaleand Roberta felt themselves to be in an embarrassing position. Themen at the table, who had been guests so long, would be marchedaway as prisoners from their door in the morning. The usages ofwar could not satisfy their womanly and chivalric natures, or makethem forget the courtesy and respect which,
in spite of prejudices,had won so much good-will. Lane scarcely sought to disguise hisperplexity and distress. Honest Surgeon McAllister, who knew thatthey all had been an awful burden, was as troubled as some menare pleased when they get much for nothing. Suwanee appeared ina somewhat new role. She was the personification of dignity andcourtesy. She acted as if she knew all and was aware that theirguests did. Therefore levity would be in bad taste, and their onlyresource was the good breeding which ignores the disagreeable andthe inevitable. Her mother looked on her with pride, and wonderedat so fine an exibition of tact. She did not know that the poorgirl had a new teacher, and that she was like an inexorable generalwho, in a desperate fight, summons all his reserve and puts forthevery effort of mind and body.

  Lane had not found a chance to say one word to Suwanee in privateduring the day, but after supper she went to the piano and beganto play some Southern airs with variations of her own improvising.He immediately joined her and said, "We shall not attempt to escape;we are too closely watched."

  She did not reply.

  "Miss Suwanee," he began again, and distress and sorrow were in histones, "I hardly know how to speak to you of what troubles me morethan the thought of captivity. How can I manage with such proud,chivalric women as you and your mother and sister? But I am notblind, nor can I ignore the prosaic conditions of our lot. I respectyour pride; but have a little mercy on mine,--nay, let me call itbare self-respect. We have caused you the loss of your laborers,your fields are bare, and you have emptied your larder in feedingmy men, yet your mother will not take even partial compensation.You can't realize how troubled I am."

  "You, like ourselves, must submit to the fortunes of war," shereplied, with a sudden gleam of her old mirthfulness.

  "A bodily wound would be a trifle compared with this," he resumed,earnestly. "O Miss Suwanee, have I won no rights as a friend?rather, let me ask, will you not generously give me some rights?"

  "Yes, Captain Lane," she said, gently, "I regard you as a friend,and I honor you as a true man. Though the war should go on foreverI should not change in these respects unless you keep harping onthis financial question."

  "Friends frankly accept gifts from friends; let it be a giftthen, by the aid of which you can keep your mother from privation.Suwanee, Suwanee, why do you refuse to take this dross from me whenI would give my heart's blood to shield you from harm?"

  "You are talking wildly, Captain Lane," she said, with a laugh."Your heart belongs to Miss Vosburgh, and therefore all its blood."

  "She would be the first to demand and expect that I should risk alland give all for one to whom I owe so much and who is so deserving."

  "I require of her no such sacrifice," Suwanee replied, coldly, "norof you either, Captain Lane. Unforeseen circumstances have thrownus together for a time. We have exchanged all that is possiblebetween those so divided,--esteem and friendship. If my fatherthinks it best he will obtain compensation from our government.Perhaps, in happier times, we may meet again," she added, her toneand manner becoming gentle once more; "and then I hope you willfind me a little more like what you have thought me to be."

  "God grant that we may meet again. There, I can't trust myselfto speak to you any more. Your unaffected blending of humilityand pride with rare, unconscious nobility touches my very soul.Our leave-taking in the morning must be formal. Good-by, SuwaneeBarkdale. As sure as there is a God of justice your life will befilled full with happiness."

  Instead of taking his proffered hand, she trembled, turned to thepiano, and said hastily between the notes she played: "Controlyourself and listen. We may be observed. You and the surgeon beready to open your door and follow me at any time to-night. Hangyour sword where it may be seen through the open window. I havecontrived a chance--a bare chance--of your escape. Bow and retire."

  He did so. She bent her head in a courtly manner towards him, andthen went on with her playing of Southern airs.

  A moment later the rebel sergeant disappeared from some shrubberya little beyond the parlor window, and chuckled, "The Yankee captainhas found out that he can't make either an ally or a sweetheartout of a Southern girl; but I suspicioned her a little last night."

  At two o'clock that night there was an almost imperceptible tapat Lane's door. He opened it noiselessly, and saw Suwanee with herfinger on her lips.

  "Carry your shoes in your hands," she said, and then led the waydown the stairs to the parlor window. Again she whispered: "Theguard here is bribed,--bribed by kindness. He says I saved his lifewhen he was wounded. Steal through the shrubbery to the creek-road;continue down that, and you'll find a guide. Not a word. Good-by."

  She gave her hand to the surgeon, whose honest eyes were moist withfeeling, and then he dropped lightly to the ground.

  "Suwanee," began Lane.

  "Hush! Go."

  Again he raised her hand to his lips, again heard that same low,involuntary sob that had smote his heart the preceding night; andthen followed the surgeon. The guard stood out in the garden withhis back towards them, as, like shadows, they glided away.

  On the creek-road the old colored man who worked in the gardenjoined them, and led the way rapidly to the creek, where under somebushes a skiff with oars was moored. Lane slipped twenty dollars intothe old man's hand, and then he and his companion pushed out intothe sluggish current, and the surgeon took the oars and pulledquietly through the shadows of the overhanging foliage. The continuedquiet proved that their escape had not been discovered. Food hadbeen placed in the boat. The stream led towards the Potomac. Withthe dawn they concealed themselves, and slept during the day, travellingall the following night. The next day they were so fortunate asto fall in with a Union scouting party, and so eventually reachedWashington; but the effort in riding produced serious symptoms inLane's wound, and he was again doomed to quiet weeks of convalescence,as has already been intimated to the reader.

  When Mrs. Barkdale and Roberta came down the next morning theyfound Suwanee in the breakfast room, fuming with apparent irritability.

  "Here is that Lieutenant Macklin again," she said, "and he is veryimpatient, saying that his orders are imperative, and that he isneeded on some special duty. His orders are to convey the prisonersto the nearest railroad station, and then report for some activeservice. From all I can gather it is feared that the Yankees proposean attack on Richmond, now that General Lee is away."

  "It's strange that Captain Lane and the surgeon don't come down,"Roberta remarked. "I truly wish, however, that we had not to meetthem again."

  "Well, since it must be, the sooner the ordeal is over the better,"said Suwanee, with increasing irritation. "Captain Lane has senseenough to know that we are not responsible for his being takenaway."

  "Hildy," said Mrs. Barkdale, "go up and tell the gentlemen thatbreakfast is ready."

  In a few moments the old woman returned in a fluster and said, "Iknock on de doah, and dey ain't no answer."

  "What!" exclaimed Suwanee, in the accents of surprise; then, sharply,"go and knock louder, and wake them up," adding, "it's very strange."

  Hildy came back with a scared look, and said, "I knock and knock;den I open de doah, and der' ain't no one dere."

  "They must be out in the grounds for a walk," exclaimed Roberta."Haven't you seen them this morning?"

  "I ain't seen nuffin' nor heard nuffin'," protested the old woman.

  "Girls, this is serious," said Mrs. Barkdale, rising; and shesummoned Lieutenant Macklin, who belonged to a class not receivedsocially by the family.

  "We have but this moment discovered," said the lady, "that CaptainLane and Surgeon McAllister are not in their room. Therefore wesuppose they are walking in the grounds. Will you please informthem that breakfast is waiting?"

  "Pardon me, madam, they cannot be outside, or I should have beeninformed."

  "Then you must search for them, sir. The house, grounds, andbuildings are open to you."

  The fact of the prisoners' escape soon became evident, and therewere haste, confusion, and runn
ing to and fro to no purpose. Suwaneeimitated Roberta so closely that she was not suspected. LieutenantMacklin and the rebel sergeant at last returned, giving evidenceof strong vexation.

  "We don't understand this," began the lieutenant.

  "Neither do we," interrupted Mrs. Barkdale, so haughtily that theywere abashed, although they directed keen glances towards Suwanee,who met their scrutiny unflinchingly.

  The Barkdales were not people to be offended with impunity, and thelieutenant knew it. He added, apologetically: "You know I must domy duty, madam. I fear some of your servants are implicated, orthat guards have been tampered with."

  "You are at liberty to examine any one you please."

  They might as well have examined a carved, wrinkled effigy as oldCuffy, Lane's midnight guide. "I don' know nuffin' 'tall 'bout it,"he declared. "My ole woman kin tell yo' dat I went to bed when shedid and got up when she did."

  The guard, bought with kindness, was as dense in his ignorance asany of the others. At last Macklin declared that he would have toput citizens on the hunt, for his orders admitted of no delay.

  The Union prisoners, together with the Confederates, when formedin line, gave a ringing cheer for "Missy S'wanee and the ladies,"and then the old mansion was left in more than its former isolation,and, as the younger girl felt, desolation.

  She attended to her duties as usual, and then went to her piano.The words spoken the previous evening would ever make the placedear to her. While she was there old Hildy crept in, with her feeblestep, and whispered, "I foun' dis un'er Cap'n Lane's piller."

  It was but a scrap of paper, unaddressed; but Suwanee understoodits significance. It contained these words: "I can never repay you,but to discover some coin which a nature like yours can accept hasbecome one of my supreme ambitions. If I live, we shall meet again."

  Those words formed a glimmering hope which grew fainter and fainterin the dark years which followed.

  She did not have to mask her trouble very long, for another sorrowcame like an avalanche. Close to the Union lines, on Cemetery Ridge,lay a white-haired colonel and his two tall sons. They were amongthe heroes in Pickett's final charge, on the 3d of July. "MissyS'wanee" laughed no more, even in self-defence.

  CHAPTER XLI.

  SUNDAY'S LULL AND MONDAY'S STORM.