THE UNEXPECTED HAPPENS
Scoville soon learned that his opponent, so far from being killed or
even wounded, had escaped. He was not much worried by this fact,
believing that before the Confederate officer could reach his friends
and bring back an attacking force, the Federal column would be on the
ground. Indeed, he was glad that the family upon which he had quartered
himself could not associate him with so terrible a calamity. The young
girl might not wish to marry her cousin, yet be sorry if he were
fatally or even seriously wounded, while the rest of the household
would be plunged in the deepest distress. Although a resolute soldier,
Scoville was a kind-hearted fellow, and disposed to take the most
genial views of life that circumstances permitted. There was a humor
about his present situation which he relished exceedingly. He was
buoyant over the interrupted wedding, and bent upon disappointing Mr.
Baron in all his grewsome expectations in regard to the Yankees. There
should be discipline, order, quiet, and an utter absence of all
high-tragedy. He cautioned his men against the slightest tendency to
excess, even forbidding the chaffing of the negroes and noisiness. A
steer, a pig, and some fowls were killed for supper, and the wood for
cooking it was taken from an ample pile in the rear of the house.
Happily, none were seriously wounded, and being veterans were able to
do much for one another, while an elderly man in the troop who had some
rude surgical experience, supplemented their efforts. Miss Lou speedily
joined her aunts in rummaging for old linen for bandages, and the
performance of human duty by the elderly ladies dulled the edge of the
terrible truth that they were in the hands of the Yankees. True, they
had to admit to themselves that the young soldier did not appear like a
"ruthless monster" and that his conduct thus far had been almost
ceremoniously polite; yet all this might be but a blind on the part of
a cunning and unscrupulous foe.
When they came down to the veranda with the materials required, the
unscrupulous foe met them, cap in hand, thanked them courteously, and
gave his entire attention to the wounded, treating the men of both
sides alike. Mrs. Whately, in glad reaction from overwhelming fear
concerning her son's safety, offered her services in behalf of the few
wounded Confederates and they were readily accepted. Before she was
aware of it she found herself conferring with the young officer and the
surgical trooper in regard to the best treatment of the injuries.
Having long been mistress of a plantation and accustomed to act
promptly when any of her slaves were hurt, she now proved a valuable
auxiliary. When the soldiers with whom she sympathized were attended
to, her kindness of heart led her on to the Federals, who thanked her
as gratefully as if they were not depraved Yankees.
Mr. and Mrs. Baron had retired to the parlor, where they sat in state,
awaiting in gloomy fortitude the darker developments of what they
deemed the supreme tragedy of their lives. Miss Lou was flitting in and
out, getting lint and other articles required by Mrs. Whately. She
found it no easy matter to maintain the solemnity of aspect which her
guardians thought appropriate to the occasion, but was assisted in this
effort by her genuine pity for the wounded. In her joyous relief at
escape from a hated union her heart was light indeed. She had,
moreover, no slight sense of humor, and was just bubbling over with
mirth at the fact that although the Yankee monsters, from whom it was
said she must be rescued at every cost, were masters of the situation,
they were engaged in nothing more ruthless than feeding their horses,
preparing supper, and caring for the wounded. The most delicious thing
of all was that one of the chief prophets of evil, her Aunt Whately,
was aiding in the last-named task. Her exultation was increased when
she brought the last article required and Scoville said with his genial
smile, so well remembered, "I think I can assure you now, Miss Baron,
that all will do very well. We are deeply indebted to this lady (bowing
to Mrs. Whately) whose services have been as skilful as humane."
Now one of the things on which Mrs. Whately most prided herself was the
generally accepted belief that she was as good as a country physician
in an emergency, and she could not refrain from a slight and gracious
acknowledgment of Scoville's words. As they drew near to the door she
said hesitatingly, "Perhaps, sir, I should make an acknowledgment of
deep indebtedness to you. I saw your sabre raised and pointed at my
son's throat. Could you not have killed him had you so wished?"
"Ah! this is Mrs. Whately. Believe me, madam, we are not so
bloodthirsty as to wish to kill, or even to injure, except so far as
the necessities of war require. If you witnessed the brief conflict you
must have observed that my effort was to capture rather than to destroy
your son's force."
"We all could not help seeing that," cried Miss Lou eagerly.
"I could not help seeing also, Miss Baron, that you exposed yourself to
danger like a veteran, and I was anxious indeed lest a stray bullet
might harm you. It was well you were not armed or we might have fared
worse," and there was so much mirth in his dark eyes that she turned
away to hide her conscious blushes.
"Well, sir," resumed Mrs. Whately with emotion, "it is not easy to
bless our enemies in this cruel war of aggression, but I must express
my gratitude to one who stayed his hand when my son's life was within
his power."
"I trust, madam, he may live to care for you in your declining years,
and to become a good loyal citizen."
"He is loyal, sir," replied Mrs. Whately with gentle dignity, "to the
only authority he recognizes," and with a bow she retired.
Miss Lou lingered a moment and said earnestly, "I thank you. You are
very considerate."
His face so lighted up that it was almost boyish in its expression of
pleasure as he answered with the pride and confidence of one sure of
sympathy, "This is a jolly day for me. I was made an officer this
morning, and now, best of all, I am paying a little of my debt to you."
She put her finger on her lips and shook her head, but the smile she
gave him over her shoulder was reassuring. He promptly started on a
round among his men again to see that the prisoners were properly
guarded, and that all was going as he wished.
"Louise," said Mrs. Baron, as the girl appeared in the parlor door, "it
would be far more decorous if you would remain here with your uncle and
myself."
Miss Lou took a seat in the darkest corner that she might be less open
to observation while she calmed the tumult of her feelings. So much had
happened that she must catch her breath and think what it all meant.
Mr. Baron began gloomily, "Well, the dreaded hour which I hoped and
prayed never to see has come. We are helpless and in the hands of our
enemies. Only God knows what an hour will bring forth--"
"He has brought deliverance," cried Mrs. Whately, entering. "I
questioned Aun' Suke, thinking that she might have seen Madison if he
left the house. She did see him safe and sound. She also saw him get a
horse and ride away."
"Ah, poor boy! how different was his departure from what he had every
reason to hope and expect!" replied Mr. Baron. "I should think your
heart would be remorseful, indeed, Louise, when you picture your cousin
flying from his kindred and home, alone and sad, tortured meanwhile by
thoughts of the fate which has overtaken us."
"I'm sure, uncle, we are all sitting quietly in the parlor. That does
not seem very dreadful."
"You little know, young woman, you little realize the cunning
depravity--"
"There now, brother," interposed Mrs. Whately, "we must not think evil
until we see more evidence of it, even in Yankees. I admit that I am
most wonderfully and agreeably disappointed. The young officer in whose
hands we are might have killed my son, but did not. I must at least be
just to such a man."
"And you know he has been polite to us all, and told us to dismiss our
fears," added Miss Lou demurely.
"It would almost seem, Louise, that you welcomed these invaders. I am
too old and well informed not to know that this suave manner he affects
is designed to lull us into a sense of false security."
At this moment a firm step was heard on the veranda, followed by a rap
from the brass knocker. They knew it was Scoville, and Mr. Baron rose
and advanced to the parlor entrance. He assumed the solemn aspect of
one who now must face the exactions and wrongs which he had predicted,
and his wife tremblingly followed, to perish at his side if need be.
But the invader barely stepped within the hall and stood uncovered as
he said politely, "Mr. Baron, I have now practically made my
dispositions for the night. There is no reason why your domestic
routine should not be resumed as usual. As I said before, I pledge you
my word you shall not be disturbed unless we are attacked.
Good-evening, sir. Good-evening, ladies," and he bowed and withdrew,
leaving the old gentleman speechless in the utter reversal of all that
he had declared would take place. No plundering, no insults, no
violence. On the contrary, even his beloved routine might be resumed.
He turned around to his wife and sister almost gasping, "Is this some
deep-laid plot?"
"It certainly must be," echoed his wife.
Miss Lou turned away quickly and stuffed her handkerchief in her mouth
to prevent laughing outright.
Her uncle caught her in the act and was instantly in a rage.
"Shame upon you!" he cried. "Enemies without and traitors within."
This charge touched the girl to the quick, and she replied with almost
equal anger, "I'm no traitor. Where has your loyalty to me been to-day?
Look at me, uncle, and fix the fact in your mind, once for all, that I
am neither a child nor an idiot. God has given me a mind and a
conscience as truly as to you, and I shall use them. This Northern
officer says we are safe. I believe it and you will know it in the
morning. Now I simply insist that you and aunt treat me with the
respect due to my years and station. I've endured too much to-day to be
patient under anything more. I meant no disrespect to you in laughing,
but I cannot help being glad that instead of all sorts of horrible
things happening we are treated with simple and even delicate
politeness."
"Yes, brother," added Mrs. Whately, "as far as this man is concerned,
you must revise your opinions. There is no deep-laid plot--nothing but
what is apparent. I must also urge upon you and sister a change in your
treatment of Louise. She will be far more ready to fulfil our hopes
when led by affection."
"Well, well, that I should live to see this day!" groaned Mr. Baron.
"My ward virtually says that she will do as she pleases. The slaves
have been told that they are free and so can do as they please.
Henceforth I suppose I am to speak to my niece with bated breath, and
be at the beck and call of every Sambo on the place."
"You are not 'weltering in your own blood,' uncle, and the 'roof is not
blazing over our heads,'" replied Miss Lou quietly. "You have merely
been told that you could have supper when it pleased you and then sleep
in peace and safety. Aunt, I will thank you for the key of my trunk. I
wish to put my things back in their places."
Mrs. Baron took it from her pocket without a word, and Miss Lou went to
her room.
True to her nature, Mrs. Whately began to pour oil on the lacerated
feelings of her brother and sister-in-law. "Louise is right," she said.
"Things are so much better than we expected--than they might have
been--that we should raise our hearts in thankfulness. Just think! If
this Northern officer is what you fear, why would he have spared my
son, whom he might have killed in fair battle? In his conduct toward
the wounded he showed a good, kindly spirit. I can't deny it; and he
has been as polite to us as one of our own officers could have been.
Think how different it all might have been--my brave son desperately
wounded or dead, and unscrupulous men sacking the house! I need not
refer to darker fears. I must say that I feel like meeting courtesy
with courtesy. Since this Yankee behaves like a generous foe I would
like to prove that Southern rebels and slave-drivers, as we are called,
can equal him in all the amenities of life which the situation permits."
"Oh, sister!" cried Mrs. Baron, "even a cup of tea would choke me if I
drank it in his presence."
But Mr. Baron had lighted his pipe, and reason and Southern pride were
asserting themselves under its soothing influence. At last he said,
"Well, let us have supper anyway. It is already after the hour."
"Supper has been ready this long time, as you know," replied his wife,
"only I never dreamed of such a guest as has been suggested."
"Of course, sister, I only said what I did as a suggestion," Mrs.
Whately answered with dignity. "You are in your own home. I merely felt
reluctant that this Yankee should have a chance to say that we were so
rude and uncivilized that we couldn't appreciate good treatment when we
received it. There's no harm in gaining his goodwill, either, for he
said that his general, with the main force, would be here to-morrow."
"Mrs. Baron," said her husband in strong irritation, "don't you see
there is nothing left for us to do? No matter how things turn out, the
presence of these Yankees involves what is intensely disagreeable. If
sister is right in regard to this man--and I suppose I must admit she
is till I know him better--he has made it necessary for our own
self-respect to treat him with courtesy. Our pride will not permit us
to accept this from him and make no return. It may be Yankee cunning
which led him to foresee this, for I suppose it is pleasing to many of
the tribe to gain their ends by finesse. Probably if this doesn't
secure them, he will try harsher methods. Anyway, as long as he plays
at the game of courtesy, we, as sister says, should teach him that we
know what the word means. The mischief is that you never can know just
what a Yankee is scheming for or aiming at."
"Well, brother, supposing your words are true, as I do not think they
are in this instance, it is due to our dignity that we act like sincere
people who are above even suspecting unworthy motives. We do not
compromise ourselves in the matter. We only meet courtesy with
courtesy, like well-bred people."
"Well, so be it then. In fact, I would like to ask this man what he and
those he represents can hope to gain by invasion equalled only by that
of the Goths and Vandals."