A dim, murky morning it was that dawned on Sandbrook the following day.
I had spent the livelong night at the station. The missing train came
unheeded, soon after Colonel Summers on "Billy's" horse loped off into
the northern darkness. I had sent a dispatch to Amory, care of
Department Headquarters in New Orleans. "Billy" had hospitably invited
me to share his humble breakfast, made most relishable though by the
steaming coffee "cooked" army fashion in a battered old pot with a
reliable lid. I had noted with respect and with pleasure the fine
picture of General Lee hanging over the narrow mantel, and the battered
old cavalry sabre beneath it; and was beginning to ask myself how I
could best employ the day until evening train-time, when the rapid beat
of hoofs and the familiar rattle of the carriage-wheels sounded in my
ears.
"Hyar they come," said "Billy." "I knew they would."
Even before we could reach the platform, the carriage had whirled up
there and Harrod sprang from the box-seat.
"That freight gone by yet, Billy?"
"The freight! Lord, no! Colonel, you're not going to take Miss Summers
that way?"
"It hasn't gone, dear," he quickly spoke to the silent inmate of the
carriage. "But it's due how soon?" turning again to his friend.
"Ten minutes, colonel, and on time, too, if you're bound to go by her."
"By all means. We may strike something at Corinth; if not, we'll go on
to the Junction." Then with lowered voice, "Anything is better than
waiting at such a time. We'd better get them out, I think."
Them! Who could be there? thought I, for up to this time I had thought
best not to intrude. Now I stepped forward as he opened the
carriage-door, and with light, quick spring out popped Kitty.
"Mr. Brandon will take charge of you, Kit; there's a dear," said he,
gently, then turned again to the door, and tenderly handed out his
sister. She came instantly to me with dry eyes, and firm, low voice,
only with face so pale. She frankly held forth her hand, which--which I
took in both my own.
"Have you heard anything further?"
I shook my head.
"And you have been sitting up here all night waiting for us. How kind,
yet how tired you must be!"
"I never expected you till evening," I answered, bluntly, and was
rewarded by a look of quick, reproachful surprise.
"Harrod reached us at one o'clock. It took very little time to get
ready. Mr. Brandon, can you make _any_ conjecture as to the nature of
his illness?"
"None whatever; fever of some kind, I am half inclined to believe,
contracted while off on this court-martial tour."
She bowed her head, and now silent tears fell from her eyes. Harrod led
her to one side and, putting his arm around her, stood whispering
cheeringly to her. Then I turned to Kitty, who was very quietly engaged
in getting out satchels, baskets, and travelling-bags; all was done
before I reached her.
"It is a surprise to see you, Miss Kitty."
"A surprise! Surely you did not suppose I would let Paulie go on so sad
a journey without me. There are many ways in which I can help her."
There was no answer to the wisdom of that statement. The distant whistle
of the freight had twice been heard, and in ten minutes our party of
four were disposed in the conductor's caboose. The situation had been
explained to that officer in very few words by Harrod and "Billy;" and,
with that almost chivalrous courtesy which the roughest-looking men in
the South show to the gentler sex on all occasions I ever witnessed,
the train-hands had busied themselves in making a comfortable corner for
the ladies. Rude and poor were the appliances, but Walter Raleigh never
laid down his priceless cloak for foot of royal mistress with truer
grace than did those rough ex-soldiers spread their blankets, coats, and
pillows to make a soft substructure for the heavy shawls which the
ladies had with them. Watching, as I have on a thousand occasions, the
gentle courtesy of Southern men to women, high or low, I never lack for
explanation, never wonder how they came to fight so well. Bayard Taylor
struck the key-note when he wrote,--
"The bravest are the tenderest,
The loving are the daring."
At noon we were at Corinth and eagerly questioning the officials there.
No train till nine.
"What chance by going to Grand Junction?"
"No better, colonel; they've had the customary smash-up on the Central,
and 'taint no use trying. Even if the road weren't blocked, their
south-bound express don't get off as early as ours from here."
"Are there no trains coming south, not even freight?"
"Colonel, I'm sorry, but there's not a train of any kind,--nothin'
except a special, going through a-whoopin' for Orleans, I suppose, with
a lot o' damyankees."
"What! a special with troops, do you mean?" asked Harrod, eagerly.
"Exactly; somewhere from up in Tennessee. Two or three companies--but,
Lord! you couldn't ride with them even if they'd let you. They
telegraphed ahead here for coffee for seventy men, and want to take the
kettles on to the next station. Not much----"
"Never mind, Mr. Agent," broke in Harrod, impatiently; "when are they
due?"
"Coffee's ordered for 12.30. Reckon they'll be along very soon," replied
the nettled functionary.
"What say you, Brandon? Shall we try it?"
"Most assuredly; and I think it can be done."
Four pairs of anxious, eager eyes watched that train of "damyankees" as
it came rushing into the station sharp at 12.30. A crowd of
sullen-looking "white trash" had gathered, a larger knot of curious and
eager darkies, to see the sight. The engine whizzed past the platform;
then two passenger-cars, from every window of which protruded
blue-capped, dust-begrimed soldier heads; sentries stood at the doors,
and only as the last car--a third passenger-car--came opposite us did
the train stop. A sharp, business-like young fellow, in dust-covered
fatigue dress with infantry shoulder-straps and cap, sprang out.
"That coffee ready?" he asked, bounding at the agent at once.
"Wall, I s'pose so," drawled the party addressed, as though desirous of
giving all the annoyance he could.
"If you want your money you'd better know, and lively too. We've no time
to waste. Tumble out here, Sergeant Triggs. Bring six men while this
party is waking up."
Then as his men went into the kitchen to bring out the steaming
caldrons, I asked if I could see the commanding officer on immediate and
important business.
"Certainly, sir; rear car. Come this way."
We followed him, Harrod and I; found the forward half of the third car
filled, as were the other two, with the rank and file. At the rear end
were half a dozen sleepy, dusty, and disgusted-looking gentlemen.
"This is Major Williams, sir," said the business-like youngster, and in
an instant he was out on the platform again.
A tall, dust-colored officer rose to meet my extended card and hand,
mild surprise in his eyes. "Major," said I, "Major Vinton, of the
cavalry, lies dangerously ill in New Orleans. He is engaged to the
sister of my friend, Colonel Summers. No train leaves here until nine
to-night, and in our eagerness to get to Vinton before it be too late
we ask to be taken with you."
For an instant the commanding officer was staggered by my impetuous
harangue, but "he rallied."
"Major Vinton, say you? I'm distressed to hear it. I know him well by
reputation, though it has not been my good fortune to meet him. We--we
must find some way----Excuse me, let me speak one instant with the
quartermaster."
He quickly stepped to a bulky, stolid-looking youth, and addressed him
in few rapid words. The whistle blew,--my heart stood still. He sprang
to a window, stuck out his head, and shouted,--
"A--a--Mr. _Tur_pin. Stop the train. Don't start till I tell you."
"All right, sir," came back in the quick, sharp tones we had heard
before.
Again the major and the stolid youth met. We heard snatches of the
latter's words,--"no precedent, no authority,"--and my heart again sank.
Like Mr. Perker of blessed memory, I was about to interpose with "But my
dear sir, my _dear_ sir," when Mr. Turpin burst in like a thunder-clap
at the rear door.
"Jupiter Ammon, fellows! Blow the dust from your eyes if you want to see
the prettiest girl in the South!"
"Never mind precedent; we'll make a precedent," broke in the major,
impatiently. "Gentlemen,"--he turned to us,--"you see how forlorn are
our surroundings, but you and yours are welcome." The whole thing took
less time than it takes to read it.
Harrod sprang for his sister. Mr. Turpin sprang for Kitty. Eager hands
seized the bags and traps, shoving them through windows, anywhere,
anyhow; and half bewildered, all grateful, all surprise, Pauline and
Kitty found themselves aboard, and we were spinning out of inhospitable
Corinth.
"Pardon our great haste, ladies," I heard the major saying. "We _must_
be in New Orleans some time in the early morning." The "damyankees" were
going to get us there twenty-four hours ahead of any other arrangement
we could have made.
Shall I ever forget that almost breathless ride? "Be here to-morrow
morning without fail" were the words of the dispatch Major Williams had
received at the point where his train left the Louisville road and swung
into the rails of the Mobile and Ohio. It was the "longer way
round,"--that through Mobile,--but some late experiences had proved it
the shorter way home; and, as the conductor presently explained to the
major, on entering the car, "I've given the engineer orders to jump her
for all she's worth. We only stop for water and passing one up-train.
Even the express has to side-track for us."
Then the conductor wiped his hot brow, and with infinite surprise looked
first at the ladies just getting settled into the seats eager hands had
been dusting and preparing for them, then at me. Then Harrod came
quickly to us, and in him he recognized at once Colonel Summers of the
Alabama cavalry of by-gone days. With the Free-masonry of old
campaigners, they gripped hands before questions of any kind were put.
Harrod promptly explained the situation. "Thanks to these gentlemen, we
are permitted to share their car. Of course we settle with you for the
fare. But for their kindness we could not have reached New Orleans
before late, perhaps too late, to-morrow night."
The conductor turned to the officers: "Major Williams, sir (yes, he did
say "sah," and I liked to hear it), I want to thank you in the name of
the road for your prompt courtesy to these friends of mine. I had to
jump for the telegraph-office myself, and did not see them. You can just
bet your life, sir, the Mobile and Ohio shall know of it, and they'll
thank you in a way I'm not empowered to."
And so, whizzing at forty-five miles an hour, Southron and Yank were
drawing into the brotherhood of a common sympathy.
And so it went all through that grimy afternoon. With what unremitting
thoughtfulness and care those fellows looked after our fair charges! The
sanctity of her grief and anxiety rendered Miss Summers the object of
the deepest respect and sympathy. Reclining at the rear of the car, her
veil drawn over her face, none but Harrod ventured to approach her; but
Kitty was the centre of incessant attention, and through her all manner
of improvised delicacies were brought to Pauline. The dust was stifling,
and indefatigable Mr. Turpin appeared from somewhere in front with a tin
basin filled with cracked ice. The doctor came forward with a silver cup
of delicious lemonade (he had levied on his pannier for lime-juice and
powdered sugar) dexterously rendered soulful by a dash of Vini Gallici.
Kitty smiled her thanks to both, and a duplicate of the beverage was
grateful to her silent cousin. We flew over the rattling rails, and the
jarring was incessant. The doctor produced an air-pillow for Pauline's
head. We stopped somewhere for water, and the major disappeared. The
ladies had brought luncheon in a large basket--but no appetites. The
soldiers had rations and were filled. The officers had not had a
mouthful since a breakfast at 3 A.M., and were hungry. No chance for a
bite until 5 P.M., when, said the conductor, they might grab a sandwich
at Ragsdale's, at Meridian. "But we can't stop three minutes, boys."
Kitty overheard it. She was in animated conversation with a tall
subaltern, who claimed to be from Kentucky. They were sitting three
seats ahead of Miss Summers, who was undisturbed by their chatter; all
voices were subdued as far as was possible. Mr. Turpin, who was a man of
few words but vast action, was hovering about, eager for a chance to do
something. She knew it. They all seem to have infinite intuition that
way.
"Oh, Mr. Turpin, would you please bring me our lunch-basket?" And Turpin
was down upon us like his namesake of old, demanding the basket in a
manner suggestive of "or your lives." Another second and it was
deposited in front of her, and she bade him summon his brotherhood; and
they went, even the stolid quartermaster, who felt sheepish apparently.
And there she sat like a little Lady Bountiful, dispensing to each and
all (a Southern lunch-basket reminds me of the parable of the loaves and
fishes), and they surrounded her, eating and adoring.
At five we rolled into Meridian, and Ragsdale's sandwiches were
forgotten. Major Williams sprang from the train.
"Yes, dear," I heard Harrod saying to his sister, "I will try and send a
dispatch from here," and with that he rose. I went with him in search of
the telegraph-office. At the door we met the major, some open dispatches
in his hand.
"Have we time to send a despatch to New Orleans?" asked Harrod, eagerly.
"Hardly," said the major, with a quiet smile. "But won't this do?" and
he placed in Harrod's hand one of the papers. The message read:
"Telegram received. Assure Vinton's friends that fever is less. He
receives best care. We are hopeful now.
"REYNOLDS, A.A.G."
"Thank God!" I uttered.
Summers, with tears starting to his eyes, grasped the soldier's hand.
"You are a very thoughtful man, sir."
"All aboard!" yelled the conductor. "Get those lamps lit now."
Somehow I was glad it was dusk in the car as we sprang aboard. Harrod,
with quick, eager step, went directly to her. Something told her he had
news, and she rose, throwing back her veil, and bent eagerly forward. He
placed the paper in her hand, and, clutching it, she seemed to devour
the contents. Kitty had turned quickly to look. Conversation somehow had
ceased. Then we saw her glance one instant up in his face. Then his
strong arms were round her, for, burying her face in his breast, she had
burst into a passion of almost hysterical weeping. Then we all turned
away and shook hands. The whole car knew Vinton was better. One soldier
up in front wanted to give three cheers, but was promptly suppressed.
Kitty's own eyes were overflowing as she received the congratulations of
the lately banquetted, and with a great load off our hearts we sped
onward through the darkness.
Two sweet pictures remain in my memory of that strange night. First was
that of Miss Summers and Major Williams. At her request Harrod brought
him to her, that she might thank him for the thoughtfulness, the
delicate attention he had shown. Her face was exquisite in the revival
of hope, in the intensity of gratitude.
The second was about 11 P.M. We had had to make some stops. Our run was
now less impeded. It had grown chilly and raw. Coming in from the front,
whither I had gone to smoke with the conductor, I found the inmates of
the rear of our car apparently buried in slumber, except one figure. Mr.
Turpin, with his blouse collar turned up and his hands in his pockets,
was sitting bolt upright. Two seats behind him, her fair hair curling
about her rounded cheek, sleeping like a babe after all the fatigues and
excitements of the day, but from neck to foot completely enveloped in a
cloak of army blue, was Kitty Carrington, our rampant little rebel Kit.