THE DIGNIFIED YOUNG REBEL
Lieutenant Somers, who had been very nervous and uneasy before, was
exceedingly annoyed by the appearance of another actor on the stage. He
had become in some slight degree familiarized with the awkwardness of his
situation; for the fact, that no suspicion had yet been cast upon his
identity, was encouraging, and he began to have some confidence in his
position, open as it was to an assault from any direction. The advent of
the tattered stranger was a new cause for alarm, and he at once became
very anxious to beat a retreat.
There is no night without some ray of light to gladden it. His first
impression was that the visitor belonged to the Fourth Alabama, and would
readily recognize him as an impostor; but he was in a measure relieved to
find that none of the family gave the soldier more than a friendly
greeting, which proved him to be a stranger to them as well as to
himself. Yet he might belong to the Fourth Alabama; and then it occurred
to him that the man had come to inform Mr. Raynes of the death of his son
while on picket duty.
In the brief period which elapsed between the advent of the stranger, and
the statement of the object of his visit, Somers was disturbed by a dozen
fearful theories; all of which seemed to end in a rebel prison at
Richmond, and even in a rebel gallows--the fate of the spy. The minutes
were fearfully long; and, before the momentous question of the object of
the stranger's visit could be introduced, he decided to make an abrupt
retreat.
"Well, Mr. Raynes," said he, approaching the old man as he put on his
cap, "I have already run a great risk in stopping here so long; and, with
many thanks to you for your kindness and for your generous hospitality, I
must take my departure."
"I suppose we cannot keep you any longer, Allan; but you must promise to
call again at the first convenient opportunity."
"I promise you that I will the first time I can safely do so," responded
Somers warmly, and with the fullest intention of redeeming his promise.
"Good-by, sir!"
"Good-by, my dear boy! May you be spared in the hour when the strong men
bite the dust!" said Mr. Raynes solemnly, as he gave his hand to Somers.
"Good-by, Sue!" added the young lieutenant, taking the hand of the
Virginia damsel.
"Adieu, my brave soldier-boy!" she replied.
"You are a soldier, I see," said the stranger, as Somers approached him
on his way out of the house.
"Yes, sir," answered the latter nervously; for he would gladly have
escaped any communication with the newcomer.
"What regiment do you belong to?" persisted the dilapidated soldier.
What business was that to him? Why should he trouble himself about other
people's affairs? It sounded like a very impertinent question to the
excited lieutenant, and he was tempted to inform the busy-body that it
was none of his business; but, as he had already earned a good character
for civility with the interesting family in whose presence he still
stood, his bump of approbation would not permit him to forfeit their
esteem by so inconsiderate a reply.
"Good-by, all!" said he with energy, turning away from the rebel soldier,
and moving towards the door.
"What regiment did you say you belonged to?" demanded the persistent
rebel.
"I didn't say," replied Somers, not in the most gentle tones.
"Will you oblige me by telling me to what regiment you belong?" added the
rebel.
"I think I will not," continued Somers, more and more displeased with the
persistence of the other. "I came very near being arrested as a deserter
just now, though I have a pass in my pocket; and I don't care about
exposing myself to any further annoyance by my own indiscretion."
"I assure you I am a friend, and I would not betray you if I knew you
were a deserter," said the stranger in very civil tones.
Thus appealed to, and perceiving that he was not gaining in the
estimation of Mr. Raynes by his reticence, he decided that he could not
make the matter much worse by answering the question.
"To the Fourth Alabama," he replied desperately; "but you must excuse me;
for I am in a tremendous hurry."
"The Fourth Alabama! I thought so," exclaimed the stranger with a
pleasant smile, as though the information was particularly agreeable to
him. "I belong to the Fourth Alabama myself."
"Do you, indeed?" added Somers with the most intense disquiet, wishing
all the time that the soldier had been in Alabama, or anywhere but in the
house of Mr. Raynes.
"Can you tell me where the regiment is?"
"I cannot. I have been looking for it myself for the last two hours. As I
can be of no assistance to you, you will excuse me if I leave you."
"Not so fast, comrade; I will go with you. I have some directions which I
think will enable us to find the regiment; and, if you please, I will
bear you company."
Somers did not please; but he could hardly refuse the offer without
exciting the suspicion of the family, which he felt might be fatal to
him. It would be better to depart with the member of the Fourth Alabama,
and part company with him by force of stratagem when they had left the
house.
"I won't keep you waiting but a minute. I called here to see my friends;
but none of them seem to know me. You are Mr. Raynes, I presume?"
continued the soldier, addressing the old man.
"I am; but I don't remember to have ever seen you before," replied the
farmer.
"You never did, sir; but I will venture to say that my name is well known
in this house," added the soldier with a mysterious smile, which caused
Somers to dread some new development that would compromise him.
"Ah!" said Mr. Raynes, ever ready to welcome any one who had the
slightest claim upon his hospitality.
"I am well acquainted with your son, Owen; I suppose I shall not be
disputed here, when I say that he is the best fellow in the world. Don't
you know me now?" demanded the tantalizing rebel, who appeared to be very
anxious to have his identity made out in the natural way, and without any
troublesome explanations.
"Really, I do not," answered Mr. Raynes, much perplexed by the confident
manner of the visitor.
"This is Sue, I suppose?" pursued the soldier, advancing to the maiden,
and extending his dirty hand; which, however, was not much dirtier than
that which she had so eagerly grasped before. "Don't you know who I am,
Sue?"
"I do not, sir," she replied rather coldly.
"When I tell you that I belong to the Fourth Alabama, don't you know me?"
"I do not, sir."
"And when I tell you that I am the intimate friend of your brother Owen?"
Allan Garland stood by the door; and, of course, it was not he; therefore
she could not, by any possibility, conceive who he was; and she said so,
in terms as explicit as the occasion required.
"I live in Union, Alabama, when I am at home. Don't you know me _now_,
Sue?" persisted the perplexed visitor, who, perhaps, began to think he
had entered the wrong house.
If the veritable Allan Garland, however little his photograph resembled
him, had not stood by the door, she would have been rejoiced to see him,
and to recognize in him her unknown friend and correspondent. As it was,
she did not know him; and she was candid enough to express her conviction
without reserve, in spite of the disagreeable effect which her want of
perception seemed to produce upon the mind of the stranger.
"This is very strange," said the soldier, taking off his cap, and rubbing
his head to quicken his faculties, which seemed to have led him into some
unaccountable blunder. "Will you be kind enough to inform me who lives in
this house?"
"Mr. Raynes," replied Sue, quite as much mystified as the stranger seemed
to be.
"There is some mistake; but I can't make out what it is," said the
stranger.
"I cannot wait any longer," said Somers, who had been riveted to the spot
by the astounding revelation to which he had just listened.
He had been almost paralyzed by the words of the rebel, in whom he
promptly recognized the young man whose name and antecedents he had
borrowed for the present occasion. His first impression was to take to
his heels, and to run away; but a certain worldly prudence prevented him
from adopting this doubtful policy. If you attempt to run away from an
angry dog, he will certainly bite you; whereas, by facing him boldly, you
may escape all injury. This fact, which Somers had fully exemplified in
his own experience before he left Pinchbrook, was the foundation of his
action. Seeing that the stranger was perplexed and annoyed by the failure
of the family to recognize him, even after he had told them everything
except his name, he decided that he might safely retire under the plea of
haste.
"I beg your pardon, sir, for this intrusion," said the soldier, blushing
with mortification as he retreated a pace towards the door. "You will
excuse me, Miss Raynes, for my unwarrantable familiarity; but I have made
a blunder, or you have," he added rather bitterly. "Perhaps, when Owen
comes to introduce me, you will know me better."
"Owen's friends are my friends, young man; and you are as welcome as my
son would be, whoever you are."
"Thank you, sir; but, with many regrets for this intrusion, I will take
my leave."
"No, no, my young friend," interposed the old man. "You must not leave us
in this manner. It is true, we do not recognize you; but you are none the
less welcome on that account."
"Thank you kindly, sir. I have deceived myself into the belief that I was
better known here than I find I am. It was weak in me to thrust myself
across your threshold without an introduction; and, if you will pardon
me, I will leave you, with the promise to come again with Owen."
"Not yet, sir; at least, not till you have told us who you are."
"Excuse me; but I must go now," replied the young rebel with an
exhibition of gentle dignity, which quite won the heart of Somers, as it
did that of the family.
"Pray, give me your name, sir," interposed Sue, whose woman's curiosity
could no longer endure the silence which maidenly reserve had imposed
upon her, especially as the stranger proposed to depart without solving
the mystery.
"You'll excuse me, Miss Raynes, if I decline for the present. My comrade
is in a desperate hurry, and it is not reasonable for me to detain him
any longer."
"But, young man, you wrong me, you wrong my daughter, and above all, you
wrong my son, who is your friend, by leaving in this manner," said Mr.
Raynes earnestly. "You actually charge us with a want of hospitality by
this abrupt withdrawal."
"You will pardon me, sir, for saying it; but after the description I have
given of myself, if you do not know me, I am compelled to believe that it
is because you do not wish to know me."
"That is very unjust, and we do not comprehend the force of the remark."
"Why, sir, I have written to you, and to your daughter, and your daughter
has written to me; and now you seem never to have heard of me. I have
told you that I reside in Union, Alabama; and that I am a friend of
Owen."
"We know a young man from that town very well, though we never saw him.
His name is Allan Garland; but it is impossible that you should be the
person."
"I must go, comrade," said Somers desperately, as he rushed out of the
door.
"Wait a moment!" exclaimed Mr. Raynes, grasping him by the arm; for the
old farmer seemed to think his presence was necessary to the perfect
unraveling of the mystery. "It seems to me you ought to know this young
man, if none of us do."
"I do not, Mr. Raynes; never saw him before in my life," protested
Somers, feeling very much like a condemned criminal.
"My name is Allan Garland," quietly continued the dignified young rebel.
"I am, undoubtedly, the person to whom you allude."
"Impossible!" exclaimed Mr. Raynes, still holding Somers's arm with the
grasp of a vise.
"Impossible!" almost shouted the fair Sue, more excited than she would
have been, if, through patient reading, she had arrived at the last
chapter of a sensational novel, where the pin is pulled out and all the
villains tumble down to perdition and all the angels stumble upon their
apotheosis.
"Impossible!" chimed in Mrs. Raynes, who had preserved a most remarkable
silence, for a woman, during the exciting incidents we have transcribed.
"May I be allowed to inquire why you think it is impossible?" calmly
demanded the gentle rebel, who, in his turn, was amazed at the singular
course of events.
Sue did not know what else to do; so she sat down in a chair, and laughed
with hysterical vehemence at the strange aspect of the affair. The old
man opened his eyes, and opened his mouth; but he did not forget to hold
on with all his might to the arm of the unfortunate lieutenant, who was
just then picturing to himself the interior of a rebel dungeon; which
view suddenly dissolved into an indistinct representation of a tree, from
a stout limb of which was suspended a rope, hanging down over a
cart--these latter appurtenances being symbolical of the usual rebel
method of hanging a spy.
The affair, which had been growing desperate for some time, had now
actually become so to poor Somers. He placed his hand upon his revolver,
in the breast-pocket of his coat; but some prudential considerations
interposed to prevent him from using it. The house was on a line of rebel
sentinels. Whole divisions of Confederate infantry, artillery and
cavalry, were encamped around him, and any violent movement on his part
would have been sure to result in an ignominious disaster. The doughty
old farmer, who was not less than six feet three in his stockinged feet,
held on to him as a drowning man clings to a floating spar. It was not
possible to get away without resorting to violence; and if he offered any
resistance to what, just then, looked like manifest destiny, the rebel
soldier would become an ally of the farmer, and the women could call in
the sentinels, if nothing more.
"Really, Mr. Raynes, you are very unkind to detain me, when I tell you
that my leave has nearly expired," said Somers, when he had fully
measured the situation; which, however, was done in a tithe of the time
which we have taken to transcribe it.
"Young man, there is some _mistake_," said Mr. Raynes, placing a wicked
emphasis on the word, which went to the very core of the scout's heart.
"This man says he is Allan Garland, and you say you are Allan Garland.
One of you is an impostor. Neither of you shall go till we determine
which is the one. Sue, bring out your photograph again."
"Oh, dear!" gasped Somers, as in a fit of momentary despondency, he gave
himself up for lost, when the maiden went for the picture.