Love under Fire

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Love under Fire Page 9

by Randall Parrish


  CHAPTER IX

  IMPORTANT NEWS

  In spite of the recognized fact that these men were enemies, my heartthrobbed, almost in pride, as I watched them pass. They were Americans,and magnificent fighting men. I had seen them, or their fellows, in theruck and toil of battle, playing with death, smiling in the face ofdefeat. Now they were marching grimly forward to another clash of arms,through the blinding dust, heedless of all else but duty. This was whatstirred me. No proud review, with glittering uniforms and waving flags,would have choked my throat, or dimmed my eyes, as did the sight of thatplodding, silent column, half hidden under the dust cloud, uniformsalmost indistinguishable, officers and men mingled, the drums still, theonly sounds the steady tread, the occasional hoarse shout of command.Here was no pomp and circumstance, but grim purpose personified inself-sacrifice and endurance. With heads bowed, and limbs movingwearily, guns held at will, they swept by in unbroken column--cavalry,artillery, infantry--scarcely a face lifted to glance toward the house,with here and there a straggler limping to the roadside, or an aidespurring past--just a stream of armed men, who had been plodding onsince daylight, footsore, hungry, unseeing, yet ready to die in battleat their commander's word. It was war; it was magnificent.

  Yet suddenly there recurred to me my own small part in this greattragedy. Here was opportunity. Down below, on the front steps, stood theold judge, and beside him Miss Hardy, forgetful for the time of all elsesave those passing troops. I sprang from the chair, drew the bed back tothe centre of the room, and began my assault on the wall. There was nonecessity now for silence, and I dug recklessly into the mortar with mybroken knife blade, wrenching forth the loosened stones, until I hadthus successfully opened a space amply sufficient for my purpose. Aglance down the chimney was not reassuring, no gleam of light beingvisible, yet I was desperate enough to take the chance of discoveringsome opening below. There remained but this one means of attaining thelower floor, and no time for hesitation. I tore both sheets from thebed, binding them securely together, and twisting them into a ropestrong enough to sustain my weight. The bed-post served to secure oneend; the other I dropped down the interior of the chimney. A glance fromthe window exhibited a double line of canvas-covered wagons creakingpast, mules toiling wearily in the traces, under close guard of a squadof infantry. The judge and the girl were still outside. I was backinstantly, and clambered recklessly into the hole.

  I went down slowly, clinging desperately to the twisted sheets, unableto gain the slightest purchase on the smoothly plastered side walls. Myfingers slipped, but I managed to hang on until I reached the very endof my improvised rope, my feet dangling, my arms aching from the weight.To hold on longer was seemingly impossible, yet I could neither see norfeel bottom. I let go, confident the distance could not be great, andcame down without much shock a half-dozen feet below. I was in a largefire-place, apparently never utilized, the opening entirely covered by ascreen of cast-iron. This fitted closely, but was unfastened, and, afterfeeling about cautiously in the darkness, I pushed it slightly to oneside, and peered forth.

  A large, rather handsomely furnished room was revealed, evidently aback-parlor, closed folding doors being conspicuous in the front wall.Three windows faced the north, their curtains partially drawn, and Icould perceive through them the lattice work of a porch, covered withthe green and red of a rambler rose. I recognized instantly thesituation; this room was opposite, directly across the hall from wherewe had eaten breakfast, its windows also commanding a view of the road.Impelled by a desire to see what was continuing to take place without, Istole silently across the soft carpet, and peered forth. The last of thewagon train was lumbering past, and back of these, just wheeling aroundthe corner, approached another column of horsemen. It would be madnessfor me to emerge from concealment yet, for even if I remained unnoticedby those marching troops, still there would surely be some stragglersabout the premises seeking water. I sat down, staring out, endeavoringto decide about how large this Confederate force was--surely it composedall of Beauregard's corps, and, once united with Johnston, would renderthe Federal position extremely dangerous, perhaps untenable. Yet evennow my warning of the sudden movement would be of comparatively smallvalue, as the gap was too nearly closed for any swift advance toseparate the two armies. All I could hope to accomplish was to prevent asurprise attack on our own exposed lines. And this could never beattempted before the next morning, even if Johnston swung his columnsto the left in anticipation of Beauregard's approach. The troops weretoo thoroughly exhausted by the forced march to be hurled immediatelyinto battle--they must be fed and rested first. Convinced as to this Iremained quiet, glancing idly about the room, until sounds outsideattracted attention.

  A company--or possibly two--of cavalry was drawn up on the road directlyfronting the house, their centre opposite the open gate, but I wascompelled to lean out in order to discover just what was occurring onthe driveway. A squad of a dozen horsemen, powdered with dust, yetexcellently mounted, were riding slowly toward the veranda. The manslightly in advance was slender, with dark moustache and goatee, sittingstraight in his saddle, and on the collar of his gray coat were thestars of a general officer. Even the hasty glance gained told me hisidentity--Beauregard. As this cavalcade turned at the corner of thehouse, I drew back, shadowed by the curtain, able thus both to see andhear. At the bottom of the steps the Confederate chieftain halted, andbowed, hat in hand.

  "Judge Moran, I presume. While we have never previously met, yet yourname has long been familiar. Probably I need not introduce myself."

  The judge, his face beaming hospitality, grasped the outstretched hand,but Beauregard's dark, appreciative eyes were upon the girl standing atMoran's side.

  "Your daughter, sir?" he asked quickly.

  "Not so fortunate, General. This is Miss Willifred Hardy, of the'Gables.'"

  "Ah, yes!" the stern face instantly brightened by a rare smile. "Thesame fair heroine who brought the despatches from Johnston. I hoped Imight reach here in time, my dear, to tell you in person how greatly Iappreciate your service. May I ask if you are Major Hardy's daughter?"

  Her cheeks burning, she murmured "Yes," curtsying to his rather statelybow.

  "I knew your mother rather well in the old days,--a sweet girl, a DuVerne, of Baton Rouge. You have her eyes and hair." He turned towardMoran. "A courier but just arrived has brought me orders to halt my men,as Johnston is marching westward, and it is imperative that we protectthe bridge yonder with sufficient force. Would it inconvenience you,Judge, if I made your house my headquarters for the night?"

  "Everything I possess is freely at your service."

  "Thank you. From all I have heard I could never question the loyalty ofJudge Moran." He spoke a few short orders, swung down from the saddle,and, followed by a half-dozen others, began climbing the steps, talkingwith Miss Willifred. I heard the party enter the hall, and pause for amoment, the sound of voices mingling but indistinguishable. Then a dooropened, and the men trooped into the front parlor. There was a rattle asaccoutrements were laid aside; then a table was drawn forth, andBeauregard's voice spoke:

  "The portfolio, Sternes; now, Captain, let me read over that lastdespatch again. Ah, yes, I see. Is Colonel O'Neil waiting? Tell him topost Williams' brigade at the bridge, with Ozark's battery. Picketsshould be advanced at least two miles. Lieutenant Greer, ride to theThree Corners, and have the regimental commanders close all gaps in theline; in case of attack we must be able to exhibit a solid front. Amoment, Major Mason,--you are to bear my report to Johnston." Therefollowed the rapid scratching of a pen, and a subdued murmur of voices.Then the deep bass of the general again broke in: "You may as wellclearly understand the proposed plans, gentlemen, so you can execute myorders with intelligence. They are extremely simple; our main attackwill be directed against the enemy's left flank; the troops selected forthis service will cross at the lower ford early to-morrow night. Our ownmovements will depend altogether upon the success of Johnston'sadvance. Chambers will be up sometime
to-night, and will hold a positionat rear of the centre in reserve. Is this sufficiently clear?"

  "Do we cross the bridge?"

  "Not until Johnston informs us his assaulting column is in touch withthe enemy."

  "There is no absolute hour set?"

  "No; that will depend upon the arrival of Chambers. And now, gentlemen,we will adjourn to the dining-room."

  They passed out, evidently in the best of humor, and I could hear themchatting and laughing in the hall. But my thoughts were now concentratedupon my own work. This was important news I had overheard, and must bein the possession of the Federal commander without delay. No personaldanger could be considered. But how was it possible to get awayunobserved? I was in full uniform, and unarmed; the house--nowBeauregard's headquarters--under close guard; the surrounding roadslined with troops. It would be simply madness to attempt crossing theriver before nightfall, and yet I could not hope to remain where I wasall the afternoon without discovery. As soon as the duties ofhospitality were over Miss Willifred would certainly recall herprisoner, and it could not be long before my escape from the room abovewould be known. I must be safely out of the house before this occurred.It seemed to me the stables offered the best hiding-place, or else thedeserted negro cabins.

  I could examine the greater part of the front yard from the windows, thesquad of troopers camped near the gate, and the sentinel pacing beforethe steps, but was compelled to lean far out to gain any glimpse of therear. I could perceive no soldiers in this direction, however, and wasencouraged to note a long grape arbor, thickly overgrown with vines,extending from the house to the other extremity of the garden. Oncesafely within its shadow I might get through unseen. And there was butone means of attaining the grape arbor--through the back hall, _via_either the kitchen or the cellar. I opened the door with all possiblecaution, and took silent survey of the hall. The front door stood openand a guard was stationed without, but with his back toward me. I couldhear voices in the dining-room, but the hall itself appeared deserted,and, feeling that it was either now or never, I slipped forth, andstarted toward the rear. There were two doors, one at the very extremityof the hall, the other upon the right, both closed. Uncertain which tochoose I tried the first I came to, but, even as I cautiously turned theknob, the second was opened from without, and a man entered hurriedly.We stared into each others' faces, both too completely surprised forspeech. He was a cavalry sergeant, a gray-beard, and, with my firstmovement, was tugging at a weapon.

  "Hold on there, my buck!" he said gruffly. "None o' that, now. By God!it's a Yank. Bill, come here."

  The guard at the front door ran down the hall toward us, his gun thrownforward.

 

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