THE ALARM.
What’s the business
That such a hideous trumpet calls to parley
The dwellers in the house?—SHAKESPEARE.
The foe!—they come! they come!—BYRON.
Elfie slept long and deeply. In the wild guerrilla camp something like
military discipline was kept up, and at four o’clock the reveillé was
beat; but even the sound of the rolling drum close under her windows
failed to arouse this tired young sleeper.
Alberta arose, pale, weary and shivering, in the chilly dawn of the
autumn morning.
She opened one of the windows, letting in the faint light of day, and
the weight of a heavy dampness.
The storm had passed, the sky was clear, and the air was still; but the
ground was strewn thickly with fallen leaves, the trees were bared and
broken, and the rain drops hung glittering upon all.
Through the obscurity she could see the huts of the men with their dim
fires hastily kindled to cook their breakfasts.
After fastening back the shutters, she let down the window and turned to
set the room in order. She drew the chunks of fire together and put on
more wood from a pile that lay handy in the chimney corner. Then she
filled a kettle from a pail of water in the cupboard, and hung it over
the blazing fire.
While thus employed she heard a low rapping at her door, and she went to
see who was there.
It was her husband; and he met her as if he had been parted from her for
a year.
“May I come in?” at length he said.
“No, dear Vittorio, for our visitor still sleeps. When she is up and is
dressed, then you may,” she answered.
“Heaven knows I bear our fair guest no malice; yet I wish Satan had her
rather than she should be here dividing us whom nothing else has ever
parted,” complained Corsoni.
“So does she, I think!” replied Alberta, with a shrug.
“I am going now. What can I do for you?”
“Send Gill for orders.”
Vittorio kissed her suddenly and hurried away.
Alberta went on with her preparations for breakfast. She cut slices from
a stale loaf of bread and set them down before the fire to toast. And
then she sat down to wait for two events—the appearance of Gill and the
awakening of Elfie. She had to wait some time before either event
occurred.
Then came another rap at the door. She got up and opened it, inquiring:
“Is it you, Gill?”
“No, Madam, it is Haddycraff,” answered a voice.
“Haddycraff! Why, where is Gill?” inquired Alberta.
“Can’t be found, Madam, anywhere in the camp. Seems he hasn’t been seen
since the height of the storm last night. The men think he has deserted,
and that he is no better than a Yankee spy!”
“Is that possible?” exclaimed the guerrilla’s wife, in amazement.
“It is certain that he has gone, madam, and it is likely he was a spy!”
“That boy—that mere child! Why, he didn’t look to be more than sixteen
years old!”
“Madam, some of the men say _now_ that they don’t believe he was a boy
at all, but a woman in disguise.”
“Nonsense! What absurd notions they take in their heads.”
“It is only some of them, ma’am. There are others that think he is one
of Rosenthal’s men. Now that his disappearance has set people to
thinking and talking, there is one says he is the image of an orderly he
saw with Major Rosenthal.”
“Yes; doubtless every one of you will have a reminiscence, or a
suspicion, or an inspiration regarding the poor lad! What does your
colonel say?”
“He says nothing; he acts. He has sent out men in pursuit of the boy,
with orders to bring him back, dead or alive!”
“Oh, Heavens! when will these horrors cease!” groaned Alberta, wringing
her hands.
“The colonel sent me here to take my orders from you, madam,” said the
man, suggestively.
“Yes, yes, yes,” answered Alberta, absently, passing her hand to and fro
over her forehead.
“Can’t I do anything for you, madam?” inquired Haddycraff, after a few
minutes of silence and inactivity.
“Yes!——Oh, I am so sorry to hear what you told me about that poor
boy——Yes, I want something additional prepared for our guest’s
breakfast.—I do not believe that he is a spy!——Anything will do. Dress a
chicken, or a partridge, or anything you may have handy, and bring it
in.——He was weary of the hardships of his life, and wanted to go home.
Deserter he may be, but spy never! What do you think, Haddycraff?”
“I think, ma’am, as he has only been with us five days he hasn’t had
time to get tired of us; and we can none of us account for his sudden
disappearance upon any other ground than that of his having been a spy.
However, if the boys find him and bring him in alive, we shall get to
the bottom of the mystery; for you know how the colonel can sift a spy
first and hang him afterwards.”
“Heaven of Heavens, yes!”
“Anything else, ma’am, if you please?”
“Yes——Poor boy! can it be possible?—You may bring me a table and a clean
table cloth. Bring them to the door and rap. I will take them in.”
“That is all, ma’am?”
“Yes—go.”
The man left the door, but the guerrilla’s wife stood like one in a
maze.
“Poor, poor lad,” she murmured. “He will have not the slightest chance
of escape. They will hunt him with that pair of Siberian bloodhounds, I
suppose. Yet if he _is_ a spy, I shall rejoice at his being taken; for
if it were possible for him to escape, he might—yes, he might betray
Corsoni to death. Yes, I shall rejoice when he is taken! Yet I will
plead for his life as I never pleaded for a life before!”
She was interrupted by the arrival of the table at the door, and she
went and took it in, laid the cloth, and arranged the camp breakfast
service on it.
In the midst of her work she was disturbed by a slight noise behind her.
Turning round, she saw Elfie sitting up in bed, with her hands clasping
her temples, her black hair flying loose, and her eyes staring around in
bewilderment.
Alberta put down the knives and forks that were in her hand, and went to
the side of her guest.
“You slept well, Elfie. You never even stirred during the night. I hope
you feel better this morning,” said Alberta.
“Yes; I slept so soundly that when I opened my eyes I couldn’t remember
what had happened to me, or where I was. It seemed to me that I was
still dreaming, or that I had been transferred here by magic. Ah, the
villain! Won’t I make him pay for it!”
“Of whom do you speak, Elfie?”
“Guerrilla Goldsborough, the girl-stealer. I will make him wish that he
himself had been carried off by Satan, rather than carried off me!”
“I am glad to see you in such good spirits, Elfie.”
“Yes, last night I was jaded to death with fatigue. After the good
night’s rest I feel revived. The new day has brought new strength and
resolution. And before it is over, I shall have persuaded Colonel
Corsoni to send me across the lines.”
“My poor girl, I hope you may succeed in doing so”, said Alberta,
gravely.
“I know I shall. For whatever else the Free Sword may be, he is a
gentleman. And none but a caitiff would keep a girl a prisoner against
her will to please anybody,” said Elfie, confidently.
“I do think, if my dear Vittorio suspected that you are really and truly
here against your will, he would do everything in his power to restore
you to your friends. But you see, Elfie, he knew of the attachment
existing between you and Albert, and he cannot understand your
reluctance to remain with him. He judges all women by his own wife, who
left all to follow him and share his fate.”
“Then he _shall_ understand me. He shall know that I am loyal and free.
He shall judge me by myself alone. And when he does this, as a gentleman
and a soldier, he will restore me to my friends,” said Elfie,
positively.
“In what manner?”
“He can send me under a flag of truce to the nearest Federal fort.”
“Ah, dear Elfie, would the flag of truce from a guerrilla chief be
respected by your Federal officers? Would that of Corsoni—of all others,
of Corsoni—an outlaw with a price on his head? What are you thinking of,
my poor child?” said Alberta.
“I am sorry Vittorio is outlawed. Sorrier still that he ever did
anything to place himself in such a dreadful position. But let whoever
may be outlawed or inlawed, I am resolved to be in the Federal lines
before night,” said Elfie, throwing the cover off her, preparatory to
rising.
As she did so, she noticed the large printed U. S. on the head of the
blanket. While she was staring at it, Alberta laughed and said:
“Yes, that is a Yankee blanket. Why, my child, the Yankee manufacturers
work for us now, just as they did before the war, only now we don’t pay
them for it. Why, Elfie, if it were not for dashing and successful raids
upon Yankee encampments, our soldiers would go into battle as
bare-backed as the Berserkers of old.”
Elfie stepped down upon the floor and began to make her toilet, while
Alberta carefully spread up the bed and opened the window behind it.
“It is not what either of us were brought up to, Elfie, this
breakfasting in our bed-room; but I have endured much greater hardships
than this.”
Elfie shrugged her shoulders in silence, and went on dressing.
And by the time she was ready for breakfast, breakfast was ready for
her.
Haddycraff came to the door and rapped, and Alberta went and received
from him a large dish of fried chicken and a pitcher of milk, which was
all that was wanted to complete the preparations for the morning meal.
Alberta set them on the table and then put up the teapot and the plate
of toast.
“We have no butter to-day, Elfie, but Abershaw has got a dairyman, and
with all these cows, I dare say we shall have some for to-morrow,” said
Alberta.
“To-morrow. I hope a great many things will happen before to-morrow,”
said Elfie.
And they both sat down to the table.
Alberta poured out a cup of tea, and set it before her guest and said:
“Try some of that fried chicken, Elfie. Haddycraff is a very good cook.”
“And I suppose some Union farmer’s hen-roost has been robbed to supply
his larder,” replied Elfie rather ungratefully, as she stuck her broken
fork into the crisply fried breast of chicken, and transferred it to her
cracked plate.
“Of course; how else should we be fed?” laughed Alberta.
Elfie had a healthy young appetite, and notwithstanding her captivity
and her conscience, she made a hearty meal.
Not so did Alberta. Every movement and expression of this unhappy woman
betrayed the anxious and habitual vigilance of the fighting and flying
guerrilla life. Forgetting her companion, she would turn her head and
stare through the open window, straining her eyes to see what might be
going on at a distant point of the encampment in the line of her vision,
or else holding her cup of tea suspended between her saucer and her
lips, while she listened to the sounds outside the house.
“For goodness sake, Alberta, make a breakfast. You have scarcely eaten a
morsel of food or drank a drop of tea. What ails you? What are you
watching and listening for? You cannot fear an attack from the Union
troops this morning. You said yourself the river would be too high for
days to admit of their crossing,” said Elfie, impatiently.
“It is not of them I am thinking,” answered Alberta, making an effort to
sip her tea.
“Of what then? I declare you look like a fugitive from justice fearing
an arrest. Something ails you.”
“Something _always_ does. Elfie, did you notice the boy that waited on
us at supper last night?”
“I saw a boy, bringing in kettles and things, and I heard you call him
Gill, or something. I never noticed him particularly. Why should I,
little cockatrice of a brigand!” snapped Elfie.
“He was very well worth looking at. A pretty boy, about sixteen years of
age, with the blackest hair and rosiest cheeks I ever saw in a lad. He
sought refuge with the Free Sword about a week ago. He told a sad
tale—oh, it was a very common one—of how his home had been sacked and
burned and his father and brother killed and himself taken prisoner by
the Yankees; and how at last he had made his escape and reached our
encampment.”
“Young scamp! better he had been sent to join his father and brother
than lived to become a guerrilla.”
“Upon my word, Elfie, you are not very polite to me—all things
considered,” said Alberta.
“I have no right to be—‘all things considered,’” retorted Elfie.
“I do the best I can for you, under the circumstances.”
“And I behave as well as I can, ‘under the circumstances.’”
“Of what do you complain?”
“That I am kept here against my will.”
“Not by me. But let us return to our mutton. This boy, Elfie. Too
delicate for rough military work, the colonel placed him about me as a
sort of page. I declare in five days the gentle boy quite won my heart.
But now——”
—“How would the Free Sword like the idea of the pretty page winning his
lady’s heart?” jeered Elfie, maliciously.
“Girl! I am deeply and thoroughly ashamed of you! My interest in the
lonely boy is sisterly, motherly—what you will. And Colonel Corsoni
knows that the woman who gladly gave up earth and heaven for _his_ love,
is his own soul and body for time and eternity. He knows that I am fond
of the boy; but he knows also that I would cast that boy into a burning
fire if it were to please _him_—Corsoni!”
“Well, but what about the blessed boy. Is it he that you are watching
and listening for?”
“Yes, yes, yes! He has disappeared. The men say that he was a spy. Some
say that he is no boy, but a disguised girl. Others deny that and
pretend to recognize him, now that it is too late, as an orderly whom
they had seen in attendance upon Major Rosenthal.”
“Whe-ew!” exclaimed Elfie under her breath, as a light broke slowly over
her face.
“Now Colonel Corsoni has sent out men in pursuit of the boy. If he
really was a spy, and succeeds in effecting his escape, he will make for
the nearest fort in the lines forming the Southern Defences of
Washington, which are on this side of the river, you know; and he will
betray the retreat of the Free Sword and bring the enemy upon us
probably before we can escape.”
“Lord grant he may!” muttered Elfie between her teeth.
“And on the other hand, if he should be re-captured, he will certainly
be doomed to death, for the Free Sword never yet spared a spy. Every way
I look the prospect is full of horror. It is for our returning scouts
with their prisoner that I listen so anxiously.”
“You say that Colonel Corsoni never yet spared a spy.”
“Never.”
“He will spare this one,” said Elfie, positively.
“How do you know that?” demanded Alberta sharply.
“By reasons.”
“What reasons?”
“I cannot tell you. That is, I do not feel at liberty to do so.”
“HARK!”
“What is the matter?”
“They are coming!” exclaimed Alberta.
And at this moment the galloping of horses was heard, followed by the
sound of many eager voices and the trampling of many hasty feet.
The next instant the door was thrown open by the guerrilla Mutchison,
who stalked into the room.
The two young women started up in alarm.
“What is the matter?” demanded Alberta.
“Madam!” exclaimed Mutchison, speaking in haste and trepidation, “the
boy Gill has betrayed us! The scouts who went out in search of him have
returned and report a body of the enemy’s cavalry near!”
And without another word he pounced upon Elfie, lifted and threw her
over his shoulder and bore her, screaming and struggling from the room.
Alberta started forward to stop him, but before she had gone two paces
she met Colonel Corsoni, who came hurrying towards her.
He was armed and equipped for his ride, and he carried in his hand the
black hat and feather fastened by the flaming carbuncle button.
“Alberta, dearest—quick! Your horse is ready and waiting beside my own!”
he exclaimed. And he seized up her dark hooded cloak and with his own
hands wrapped it about her form.
“It is true then! The enemy is upon us!” she cried.
“Two companies of cavalry armed with their accursed Henry rifles!
sixteen shooters, that they may load up on a Sunday and fire off all the
week! What can my ninety almost unarmed men do against such a force?”
“Oh! fly! fly, Vittorio! And here! take that burning carbuncle from your
hat! You are known by it. And its rays shoot so far in the sunlight.”
“I would almost as willingly be captured as remove the gem, _your_ gift,
Alberta! placed, where it shines, by your hand!”
“Then my hand will remove it again!” said Corsoni’s wife, hastily
unfastening the fiery stone and concealing it in her bosom.