THE RETURN OF LE GAIRE
"I shall endeavor to make it as little unpleasant as I can," she
rejoined, "but will demand obedience. Right wheel; forward march. Yes,
through the door; the surroundings are not unfamiliar."
It was the judge's library, where I had hidden before at the coming of
Captain Le Gaire, and she paused in the doorway, glancing
curiously about.
"Remember now, you are on parole, but restricted to this room."
"For how long?" She made an exceedingly pretty picture in that frame,
and I was in no hurry to be deprived of it.
"Until--well, until I am pleased to release you. Don't scowl; I'm sure
I'm trying to be nice, and I never was so polite to a Yankee before.
Really this is the pleasantest room in the house; I have passed hours in
here myself."
"Perhaps this afternoon--"
She shook her head violently, her eyes dancing with laughter.
"Certainly not; with all these Confederate officers here. Sometimes I
think you are very conceited--I wonder if you are." And then before I
could answer,--"What a handsome man Captain Bell is; and so delightful
of him to remember having met you."
The witch was plainly enough laughing at me, but she chose a poor
subject in Bell.
"And my sentence, then, is solitary confinement?"
"That is far better than you deserve. Those windows open on the porch,
and there is a sentry there; the door leads to the rear of the house. I
shall not even lock it, nor this. I leave you here upon your word of
honor, Lieutenant Galesworth."
She was gone like the flutter of a bird, and I sank back upon the soft
cushion of a library chair, still smiling, my eyes wandering curiously
about the room. Then I got up, examined the windows and the rear door,
and returned. Escape was dangerous, but possible, yet no serious thought
of making such an attempt even occurred to me. For whatever unknown
reason, the girl's quick wit had saved me from capture; I owed her every
loyalty, and I had pledged her my word. That was enough. The more I
turned the circumstances over in my mind the less I seemed to comprehend
her motives, yet there could be no doubt she sought to serve me. A word
from her to Le Gaire, or to Beauregard, would have ended my career
instantly. Instead of speaking this word of betrayal she had
deliberately placed herself in my defence, deceiving her own people.
Why? Was there more than a mere impulse behind the action? Was she doing
for me more than she would have done for another under similar
circumstances? Was this act merely the result of womanly sympathy? For
the life of me I could not determine. She was like two individuals, so
swiftly did her moods change--one moment impressing me as a laughing
girl, the next leaving me convinced she was a serious-minded woman. Just
as I thought I knew, believed I understood, she would change into
another personality, leaving me more bewildered than ever. Suddenly I
thought again of Le Gaire, remembering his dark, handsome face, his
manner of distinction, and there came to me mistily the words overheard
during their unexpected meeting. She had called him "Gerald," and there
had been other words exchanged--aye! he had even taunted her with their
engagement, objecting to her being alone with me, and she had denied
nothing. Somehow this suddenly recurring memory left me hot and angry. I
disliked Le Gaire; from the very first moment of gazing into his dark,
sneering eyes I had felt antagonism, a disposition to quarrel; but now
something more potent rose between us--the girl. I was not blind to the
man's attractions; I could easily understand how he could find way to a
girl's heart. But a man can judge a man best, and every instinct of my
nature warned me against this fellow. The very first sound of his voice
had prejudiced me, and when I saw him I knew I was right--with him
manliness was but veneer. And Billie! The name sounded soft, sweet,
womanly now and I longed to speak it in her presence. Billie! I said it
over and over again reverently, her face floating before me in memory,
and then my lips closed in sudden determination: not without a fight, a
hard fight, was this gray-jacket going to retain her, going to keep
her from me.
It was a mad resolve; yet it was there, in my heart and upon my lips. I
had come upon the field late, come in the wrong uniform, but I was
sufficiently in earnest now. The girl liked me, served me, and she
interested me as no other ever had. Her very moods, piquant, reserved,
aroused my ambition, stimulated my purpose, and Le Gaire--the very
thought of him was a thorn in the flesh. I have wondered since if I
really loved her then; I do not know, but I dreamed of her, idealized
her, my heart throbbing at every unusual sound without, hoping she might
come again. I could hear the noise of the cavalry camp on the lawn, and
the tramp of feet in the hall. Occasionally some voice sounded clear
enough so I could distinguish the words. I opened the door leading into
the dining-room, but that apartment was deserted. There was evidently
nothing to do but wait, and I lay down on the couch between the windows,
looking up at the green leaves shaking in the breeze. Fatigued with the
labors of the previous night, before I realized the possibility I was
fast asleep.
I must have remained there some hours, totally unconscious, for when I
finally awoke it was nearly dark, the dusk so pronounced I could
scarcely see across the room. Some noise without had aroused me, and I
knew instantly what it was--the pounding of a horse's hoofs on gravel,
the animal being furiously ridden. As I sat up, the horse was jerked to
its haunches, and the rider swung from the saddle.
"Here, orderly, take the rein; quick now, damn you!" The words reached
me clearly, but as I glanced out I saw only a dark form springing up the
steps. Something familiar about the voice caused me to leap for the
door, holding it sufficiently ajar so I could overhear what passed in
the hall. There was a muttered word or two to the sentry, the newcomer
insisting angrily on seeing Beauregard; then a woman's voice suddenly
broke in with an exclamation of surprise.
"You back again! I am afraid you will have to wait to see the general
unless your mission is of the utmost importance. He is lying down, and
left orders he was not to be disturbed before nine o'clock."
"My mission is important enough," was the reply, "but perhaps, it can be
attended to without him. Where can, we be alone, Billie?"
"Right in here," stepping through the doorway into the deeper dusk of
the dining-room. "If you are hungry I can order a lunch."
"No," impatiently, "I have eaten twice to-day--what I want to know is
what has become of that fellow who was here this morning?"
"Major Ather--"
"Oh, hell!" forgetting every pretence to gentility. "He was not Atherton
at all, but a damned Yankee spy. Do you mean to say you didn't know it?"
I could see her straighten up, turning swiftly to face him. Whatever the
shock of discovery may have been, indignation conquered, and her voice
was cool, stinging.
"Captain Le Gaire, I am not in the habit of being sworn at, and will
leave you to gain your information elsewhere."
She swept by him to the door, but, gasping with surprise, the man
managed to call after her,
"Billie, don't go like that! I didn't mean to swear. It was jolted out
of me, and I beg your pardon."
She halted on the threshold, glancing back evidently in hesitation.
"This is not the first time you have let your temper loose in my
presence," she said slowly, "but it is the last. If you feel so little
respect for me now, the future is not very encouraging."
"But, Billie, you don't understand!"
"I understand enough. However we will not discuss this matter any
further at present. What was it you desired to know?"
"Where that fellow has gone!" instantly flaming up again. "He wasn't
Atherton at all, but I'll swear he was the very picture of him; he would
have fooled the devil."
"No doubt," almost indifferently. "How did you discover the deception?"
"By merest accident. Happened to mention meeting him to old Trevor, and
he was up in arms in a minute. Seems Atherton married his niece, and the
fellow here couldn't be the major, for he was shot in a skirmish three
weeks ago, and has been in the hospital at Athens ever since. He's there
now; rode over to Pemberton's headquarters to make sure, and met
Gregory, Chief-of-Staff. He saw Atherton Saturday, and he wasn't able to
sit up yet. The fellow here was a Yank--and you didn't know it?"
"I very naturally supposed he was what he represented himself to be,"
she replied, coming back into the room. "And when you recognized him as
an old acquaintance I never gave the matter another thought."
"But he came through the lines with you," bewildered and doubtful.
"The best of reasons why I should never have suspected him of being a
Yankee. He was very pleasant and gentlemanly."
"Oh, indeed! all a man has to do is smile and say nice things to get you
women on his side."
"Then why don't you try it? You are certainly disagreeable enough
to-day."
"Perhaps I am," endeavoring to laugh. "But if I could get my hands on
that Yank I'd be in far better humor. Where is he?"
"The last time I saw him," with provoking coolness, "he was at dinner
with General Beauregard and staff."
"At dinner! Here! Good God! he must have nerve. How did it happen?"
"Through my introduction originally, and then later he was recognized
by Captain Bell."
Le Gaire sank down into a chair, glaring at the girl's dim, white-robed
figure, his teeth savagely clicking in an effort to keep from swearing.
As though to exasperate him yet more she laughed.
"I fail to see the fun," he snarled impatiently. "This is no joke, let
me tell you, and we'll both find it out if Beauregard ever learns the
truth. What did they talk about?"
"Army matters mostly. The general wished information regarding the
movement of Johnston's and Chambers' forces, and Major Atherton--"
"Don't call the fellow that!"
"Then what shall I call him?"
He struck his fist on the table, almost devoid of the power of speech.
"I don't care, only not that. I tell you he's not Atherton, but a
sneaking Yankee spy."
"Why, he was in full uniform!"
"He'll hang, just the same, if we get him. Now see here--did Beauregard
let out any facts?"
She drew a quick breath, one hand on her breast, and it seemed to me her
voice trembled.
"He talked as he would to one of his own officers. They discussed the
plans of operation quite freely among themselves."
Le Gaire groaned, his elbows on the table, his head in his hands. She
remained motionless, looking at him. Suddenly he glanced up.
"I'll be hanged if I understand you, Billie," he exclaimed. "Don't you
care, or don't you realize what this means? That fellow has got all our
plans, and he's got safely away with them too, I suppose."
She nodded, as he paused an instant.
"Before morning they'll be over there," with a wave of the hand, "and
our move checkmated. Whose fault is it? Yours and mine. It's enough to
drive a man crazy, and you stand there and laugh."
"I am not laughing."
"Well, you were a minute ago. Do you even suspect who the fellow is?"
"You said he was Major Ath--"
"Oh, hell!" springing to his feet, with sword rattling, and hands
clinched. "I won't stand this, not even from you. You're hiding
something; what is it? Is this Yank anything to you?"
"Absolutely nothing, Captain Le Gaire. Take your hand from my arm,
please. Now I will trouble you to stop this controversy. I am not
indifferent, but I refuse to be bullied, and sworn at. If you are so
wild to capture this spy why don't you make the rounds of the pickets
instead of remaining here and quarrelling with me? The man is not hiding
behind my skirts. I will bid you good-night."
She was gone before he could even fling out a hand to stop her. A moment
he raged between table and wall; then flung out the door and down the
steps, calling for his horse.