CHAPTER XVIII
OVERHEARD CONVERSATION
It was a little gully, hardly more than a tramped footpath, leading downthe bank up which we crept until we attained the level. With eyessharpened by the long night vigil we could perceive the dim outlines ofbuildings, and a glow or two of distant lights. I felt of the face of mywatch, deciding the time to be not far from half-past twelve. Our tramphad seemed longer than a trifle over three hours, and it was a relief toknow we still had so much of darkness left in which to operate. Itouched the man lying next me, unable to tell one dark formfrom another.
"Who are you?"
"Wilson, sir."
"Where is the guide?"
"Right yere, sah," and the speaker wriggled toward me on his face. "Disyere is de place."
"I supposed so, but it is all a mere blur out there to me. What arethese buildings just ahead of us?"
"De slave quarters, sah; dey's all deserted, 'cept maybe dat first oneyonder," pointing. "I reckon Aunt Mandy an' her ol' man are dar yet,but de field hands dey all done cleared out long time ago. De stable wasober dar toward de right, whar dat lantern was dodgin' 'round. Yo' creep'long yere, an' I'll point out de house--see, it's back o' de bunch o'trees, whar de yaller light shows in de winder. I reckon dar's some of'em up yet."
From his description I received a fair impression of the surroundings,questioning briefly as I stared out at the inanimate objects faintlyrevealed, and endeavoring to plan some feasible course of action. Thestable was a hundred yards to the rear of the house, a fenced-off gardenbetween, the driveway circling to the right. Between the slave quartersand the mansion extended an orchard, the trees of good size andaffording ample cover. We were to the left of the house, and the lightseen evidently streamed through one of the windows of the front room.Where the guard was stationed no one of us could guess, yet this had tobe determined first of all. I called for Miles, and the sergeant, stillholding his position at the rear, crept forward.
"I am going in closer to discover what I can," I said quietly. "I may begone for half an hour. Advance your men carefully into the shadow ofthat cabin there, and wait orders. Don't let them straggle, for I wantto know where they are." I bent lower and whispered in his ear, "Don'tlet that negro out of your sight; but no shooting--rap him with a buttif necessary. You understand?"
"Sure; I'll keep a grip on his leg."
I paused an instant thinking.
"If luck helps me to get inside, and I find the way clear, I'll drawthat shade up and down twice--this way--and you can come on. Movequickly, but without noise, and wait outside for orders, unless you arecertain I am in trouble."
"Yes, sir; we'll be there."
"Have one man watch that light all the time; don't let him take his eyesoff it. Be careful no prowling trooper stumbles on you; keep themen still."
I saw the dim movement as he saluted and felt no doubt of obedience,--hewas too old and tried a soldier to fail. I crept forward, scouted aboutthe cabin to make sure it was unoccupied, and then advanced into theshadows of the orchard. I was all nerves now, all alertness, everyinstinct awake, seeing the slightest movement, hearing the faintestnoise. There were voices--just a mumble--in the direction of the stable,and, as I drew in closer toward the house I could distinguish sounds asthough a considerable party were at table--yet even the tinkle of knifeand plate was muffled; probably the dining-room was on the oppositeside. However, this would seem to indicate the presence of the one wesought, although so late a supper would render our task more difficultof execution. I was tempted to try the other side first, but the openwindow with the light burning inside was nearer, and I wished first toassure myself as to that. I could see no sentries, but the embers of afire were visible on the front driveway. Whatever guard might be aboutthe steps, none patrolled this side; I must have waited several minutes,lying concealed in the dense shrubbery, peering and listening, beforebecoming fully convinced. The omission brought a vague suspicion thatJohnston might not be present after all--that this was instead a mereparty of convivial officers. If so, the sooner I could convince myselfthe better, to make good our safe return. The thought urged me forward.
A small clump of low bushes--gooseberries, I judged from the thorns--waswithin a few yards of the house, the balance of the distance a closelytrimmed turf. The bottom of the window through which the light shone waseven with my eyes when standing erect, but I could perceive no movementof any occupants, a small wooden balcony, more for ornament than forpractical use, shutting off the view. I grasped the rail of this with myhands and drew my body slowly up, endeavoring to keep to one side out ofthe direct range of light. This effort yielded but a glimpse of onecorner of the seemingly deserted interior, and I crouched down withinthe rail, cautiously seeking to discover more. Fortunately the woodensupport did not creak under my weight. The apartment was apparentlyparlor and sitting-room combined, some of the furniture massive andhandsome, especially the centre-table and a sofa of black walnut, butthere was also a light sewing-table and a cane-seated rocker, moresuggestive of comfort. At first glance I thought the place empty,although I could plainly hear the murmuring sound of voices from beyond;then I perceived some one--a woman--seated on a low stool before theopen fire-place. She sat with back toward me, her head bent upon onehand. I was still studying the figure in uncertainty when a door,evidently leading into the hall, opened and a man entered. He was inConfederate field uniform, the insignia on his collar that of amajor,--a tall, broad-shouldered man, with abundant hair and anaggressive expression. The woman glanced up, but he closed the door,shutting out a jangle of voices, before speaking.
"What was it? You sent for me?"
She rose to her feet, and came a step forward,--my heart leapt into mythroat, my fingers gripped the rail.
"Yes," she said quietly, looking into his face, "I have decided I cannotdo it."
"Decided! What now?" and his surprise was beyond question. "Why, whatdoes all this mean? No one has sought to coerce or drive you; this wasyour own choice. Surely you have had ample time in which to consider!"
"Oh, yes," wearily, her hand pressing back her hair, "but--but I reallynever understood myself until to-night; I am not sure I do even now."
"A girlish whim," he broke in impatiently. "Why, daughter, this isfoolish, impossible; all arrangements are made, and even now they aretoasting the captain in the dining-room. Under no other conditions couldhe have got leave of absence, for his injuries are trivial. Johnstontold me as much before he left, and I know we shall need every manto-morrow if we force the fighting."
"Why does he accept leave then, if he is needed here?" she askedquickly.
"For your sake and mine, not fear of battle, I am sure. There will be noheavy action at this end of our line, as we shall fall back to protectthe centre. But the movement as contemplated will leave all this groundto be occupied by the Yankees; they'll be here by to-morrow night beyonddoubt; even now we retain only a skeleton force west of the pike. Icannot leave you here alone, unprotected."
"Is that why you have pressed me so to assent to this hurriedarrangement?"
"Yes, Billie," and he took her hands tenderly. "Captain Le Gairesuggested it as soon as we learned this region was to be left unguarded,and when he succeeded in getting leave to go south it seemed to me thevery best thing possible for you. Why, daughter, I do not understandyour action--by having the ceremony to-night we merely advance it afew months."
"But--father," her voice trembling, "I--I am not so sure that I wish tomarry Captain Le Gaire at--at all."
"Not marry him! Why, I supposed that was settled--you seemed veryhappy--"
"Yes, once," she broke in. "I thought I loved him--perhaps I did--but hehas not appeared the same man to me of late. I cannot explain; I cannoteven tell what it is I mean, but I am afraid to go on. I want more timeto decide, to learn my own heart."
"You poor little girl, you are nervous, excited."
"No, it is not that, papa. I simply doubt myself, my future happinesswith this man. Sure
ly you will not urge me to marry one I do not love?"
"No, girlie; but this decision comes so suddenly. I had believed youvery happy together, and even to-night, when this plan was firstbroached, there was no word of protest uttered. I thought youwere glad."
"Not glad! I was stunned, too completely surprised to object. You alltook my willingness so for granted that I could find no words to expressmy real feelings. Indeed I do not believe I knew what they were--notuntil I sat here alone thinking, and then there came to me a perfecthorror of it all. I tried to fight my doubts, tried to convince myselfthat it was right to proceed, but only to find it impossible. I loathethe very thought; if I consent I know I shall regret the act as long asI live." "But, Billie," he urged earnestly, "what can have occurred tomake this sudden change in you? Captain Le Gaire belongs to one of themost distinguished families of the South; is wealthy, educated, apolished gentleman. He will give you everything to make life attractive.Surely this is but a mere whim!"
"Have you found me to be a nervous girl, full of whims?"
"No, certainly not, but--"
"And this is no whim, no mood. I cannot tell, cannot explain all thathas of late caused me to distrust Captain Le Gaire, only I do not feeltoward him as I once did. I never can again, and if you insist on thismarriage, it will mean to me unhappiness--I am, sure of that."
"But what can we do at this late hour! Everything is prepared, arrangedfor; even the minister has arrived, and is waiting."
She stood before him, her hands clasped, trembling from head to foot,yet with eyes determined.
"Will you delay action a few moments, and send Captain Le Gaire to me?I--I must see him alone."
He hesitated, avoiding her eyes and permitting his glance to wanderabout the room.
"Please do this for me."
"But in your present mood--"
"I am perfectly sane," and she stood straight before him, insistent,resolute. "Indeed I think I know myself better than for months past. Ishall say nothing wrong to Captain Le Gaire, and if he is a gentleman hewill honor me more for my frankness. Either you will send him here tome, or else I shall go to him."
The major bowed with all the ceremony of the old school, convinced ofthe utter futility of further argument.
"You will have you own way; you always have," regretfully. "I shallrequest the captain to join you here."
Love under Fire Page 18
