A MARTYR'S WRATH

Great news the aide-de-camp brought us; from Lee, from Longstreet, Bragg

and Johnston. Johnston was about to fall upon Grant's rear. Across the

Mississippi Dick Taylor was expected this very day to deal the same

adversary a crippling blow, and it was partly to mask this movement that

we had made our feint upon the Federals near Natchez. Now these had

fallen back, and our force had cunningly slipped away southward. Only

General Austin and his staff had not gone when Lieutenant Helm left the

front, and they were about to go.

Toward the end of the meal Mrs. Sessions, in her amiable plantation

drawl, said she hoped the bearer of so much good tidings had not come to

take away Lieutenant Ferry; and when Harry, flushing, asked what had

given her such a thought, the simple soul replied that Mr. Gholson had

told her he "suspicioned as much."

At once there arose the prettiest clamor all round the board, in which

Charlotte and Cécile joined for the obvious purpose of making confusion.

Gholson turned yellow and spoke things nobody heard, and Ferry tried to

drown Harry's loud declarations that the word he had brought to Ferry

was for him to stay, and that he had found him saddling up to go in

search of his company. "Isn't that so, Ned?--Now,--now,--isn't that so?"

We left the table all laughing but Gholson. He tried to say something to

Harry, which the latter waved away with mock gaiety until on the side

veranda we got beyond view of the ladies, when the aide-de-camp reddened

angrily and turned his back. As the two lieutenants were lighting

cigarettes together, Harry, thinking Gholson had left us, blurted out,

"Oh, that's all very well for you to say, Ned, but, damn him, he's not

the sort of man that has the right to 'suspicion' me of anything;

slang-whanging, backbiting sneak, I know what _he's_ here for."

On that the blood surged to Ferry's brow, but he set his mouth firmly,

locked arms with the speaker and led him down the veranda. Gholson took

on an uglier pallor than before and went back into the house. I followed

him. He moved slowly up the two flights of hall stairs and into a room

close under the roof, called the "soldiers' room". It had three double

beds, one of them ours. Without a fault in the dreary rhythm of his

motions he went to the bedpost where hung his revolver, and turning to

me buckled the weapon at his waist with hands that kept the same

unbroken measure though they trembled and were as pallid as his face. In

the same slow beat he shook his head.

"Smith, I rejoice! O--oh! I rejoice and am glad when I'm reviled and

persecuted by the hounds of hell, and spoken evil against falsely for my

religion's sake."

"Now, Gholson, that's nonsense!"

"O--oh! that's what it's for! that's what he meant by 'slang-whanging.'

That's what it's for from first to last, no matter what it's for in

between; and I know what it's for in between, too, and Ned Ferry knows.

Did you see Ned Ferry take him under his protection? O--oh! they're two

of one hell-scorched kind!" My companion stood gripping the bedpost and

fumbling at his holster. I sank to the bed, facing him, expecting his

rage to burn itself out in words, but when he began again his teeth

were clenched. "You heard him tell Ned Ferry he knows why I'm here. It's

true! he does know! he knows I'm here to protect a certain person from

him and--"

"From whom? from Harry Helm? Oh, Gholson, that's too fantastical!"

"From him and the likes of him! Not that he loves her; that's the

difference between them two cotton-mouth moccasins; Ned Ferry, hell

grind him! does--or thinks he does; that other whelp _don't,_ and knows

he don't; he's only enam'--"

"HUSH!" He ceased. "I swear, Scott Gholson, you must choose your words

better when you allude--Lieutenant Helm is the last man in the brigade

to be under _my_ protection, but--oh, you're crazy, man, and blind

besides. Harry Helm is not in love, but he thinks he is, though with

quite another person!"

"O--oh! whether he loves or not, or whoever he loves, I know who he

hates; he hates me and my religion; our religion, Smith, mine and yours;

because it's put me between him and her. What was that the preacher said

this morning? 'The carnal mind, being enmity against God, is enmity

against them that serve God.' O--oh, I accept his enmity! it proves my

religion isn't vain! I'm glad to get it!"

All this from his oscillating head, through his set teeth, in one malign

monotone. As he quoted the preacher he mechanically drew his revolver.

There was no bravado in this; he might lie, but he did not know how to

sham; did not know, now, that his face was drawn with pain. Holding the

weapon in one hand, under his absent gaze he turned it from side to side

on the palm of the other. I put out my hand for it, but he dropped it

into the holster and tried to return my smile.

"Do you propose to call him out?" I asked. "You can't call out an

officer; you'll be sent to the water-batteries at Mobile."

"I've thought of all that," he droned.

"Then why do you put that thing on?"

"Why do I put it on? Why, I--you know what I told you about that

Yankee--"

"Gholson," I exclaimed, for I saw that murder, even double murder, was

hatching in his heart, with Charlotte Oliver for its cause, and looked

hard into his evil eyes until they overmatched mine; whereupon I made as

if suddenly convinced. "You're right!" I turned, whipped on my own belt

with its two "persuaders," and blandly smoothing my ribs, added "Now!

here are two ready, Yankees or no Yankees."

I never saw a face so unconsciously marked with misery as Gholson's was

when we started downstairs. I stopped him on a landing. "Understand, you

and I are friends,--hmm? I think Lieutenant Helm owes you an apology,

and if you'll keep away from him I'll try to bring it to you."

The reply began with a vindictive gleam. "You needn't; I ain't got any

more use for it than for him. I never apologized to a man in my life,

Smith, nor I never accepted an apology from one; that's not my way."

Near the bottom of the second flight we met Charlotte, who, to make bad

worse, would have passed with no more than a smile, but the look of

Gholson startled her and she noticed our arms. With an arresting eye I

offered a sprightly comment on the heat of the day, and while she was

replying with the same gaiety I whispered "Take him with you."

How nimbly her mind moved! "Oh Mr. Gholson!" she said, and laughed to

gain an instant for invention.

"Mr. Gholson, can _you_ tell me the first line of the last hymn we sang

this morning?" Her beam was irresistible, and they went to the large

parlor. I turned into the smaller one, opposite, where Squire Sessions

started from a stolen doze and, having heard of my feeling for books,

thrust into my hands, and left me with, the "Bible Defense of Slavery."

As I moved to a window which let out upon the side veranda the two

lieutenants came around from the front and stood almost against it,

outside; and as I intended to begin upon Harry as soon as Squire

Sessions was safely upstairs, this suited me well enough. But the moment

they came to the spot I heard Ned Ferry doing precisely what I had

planned to do. At the same time, from across the hall came the sound of

the piano and of Charlotte's voice, now a few bars, then an interval of

lively speech, again a few bars, then more speech, and then a sustained

melody as she lent herself to the kind flattery of Gholson's

songless soul.

"But he is!" I overheard the aide-de-camp say; "he is a backbiting

sneak, and I tell you again he's backbitten nobody more than he

has you!"

"And I tell you again, Harry, that is my business."

"If he wants to fight me he can; I'll waive my rank."

"No, you will not, you have no right; our poor little rank, it doesn't

belong to us, Harry, 'tis we belong to it. 'If he wants to fight!'--Do

you take him for a rabbit? He is a brave man, you know that, old fellow.

Of course he wants to fight. But he cannot! For the court-martial he

would not care so much; I would not, you would not; 'tis his religion

forbids him."

"O--oh!" groaned Harry in Gholson's exact tone, "'Hark from the tombs'!"

"Ah!" said Ferry, "he does not live up to it? Well, of course! who

does? But we will pass that; the main question is, Will you express the

regret, and so forth, as I have suggested, and do yourself credit,

Harry, as an officer and a gentleman, or--will you fight?"

"But you say his religion, so called, won't let him fight!"

"That's what I think; but if it forbids him, and if consequently he will

not, well,--Harry,--I will."

"You will what!"

"I will have to fight you in his place."

"Why, Ned!--Ned!--you--you astound me! Wha'--what do you mean?"

"That is what I mean, Harry. You know--many times you have heard me

say--I don't believe in that kind of thing; I find that worse than the

religion of Gholson; yet still,--what shall I say?--we are but soldiers

anyhow--this time I make an exception in your favor. And of course this

is confidential, on both sides; but you must make peace with Gholson, or

you must fight with me."

"Oh, good Lord!--Ned!--Good Lord A'mighty! but this is too absurd. Why,

Ned, don't you see that the bottom cause of this trouble isn't--"

"I know what is the bottom cause of this trouble very well, Harry; you

can hear her in yonder, now, singing. Wherever Gholson is he hears her,

too, like-wise. Perchance 'tis to him she is singing. If she can sing to

him, are you too good to apologise?"

"Oh, I'll give him the benefit of the doubt, Ned, damned if I don't!

George! I'll apologize! Rather than lose your friendship I'd apologize

to the devil!"

Ferry's thanks came eagerly. "Well, anyhow, old boy," he added, "in such

a case to back down is braver than to fight; but to apologize to the

devil--that is not hard; on the contrary, to keep _from_ apologizing to

the devil--ah! I wish I could always do that!--I wonder where is

Dick Smith."

I stealthily laid down the "Bible Defense of Slavery" and was going

upstairs three steps at a stride, when I came upon Camille and Estelle.

My aim was to get Harry's revolver to him before he should have the

exasperating surprise of finding Gholson armed, and to contrive a

pretext for so doing; and happily a word from the two sisters gave me my

cue. With the fire-arms of both officers I came downstairs and out upon

the veranda loud-footed, humming--

"'To the lairds o' Convention 'twas Claverhouse spoke,

Ere the sun shall go down there are heads to be--'

"Gentlemen, I hope I'm not too officious; they say we're all going for a

walk in the lily-pond woods, and I reckon you'd rather not leave these

things behind."

Both thanked me and buckled on their belongings, but Ferry's look was

peculiarly intelligent; "I was in the small parlor, looking for you," he

said; "I thought you would be near the music." And so he had seen

Gholson with his revolver on him, and must have understood it!

"Smith," said Harry, "will you be so kind as to say to Gholson--oh,

Lord! Ned, this is heavy drags on a sandy road! I--"

"That's all right, Harry, I withdraw the request."

"Well, you needn't; I was in the wrong. Smith, will you say to

Gholson--" His voice dropped to a strictly private rumble.

"Yes, Lieutenant, I'll do so with pleasure, and I'm sure what you say

will have the proper--here are the ladies."

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