THE FINAL SUMMONS.
Now came hours of wearisome waiting, especially to the besieged, who
found in their close quarters little freedom of movement. Some of the
men stretched out on the lower floor and slept; others talked and
engaged in games of chance, while a desultory watch was maintained,
through the doors and windows, upon the rustlers, several of whom were
continually in sight.
Before the afternoon had half passed all doubt of the coming darkness
was removed. The sky became heavily clouded, the air was raw and
chilly, and no moon was visible.
Several distant rifle-shots were heard an hour later, but no one
could conjecture or discover the explanation. Probably they signified
nothing.
Fred Whitney showed himself on top of the ridge once, and waved his
hand in salutation to his friends. This was done to reassure his
mother and sister, who were anxious, despite what he had said to them.
Many longing glances were cast across the broad plain in the direction
of the mountains. Like shipwrecked mariners scanning the horizon for
the rescuing sail, the besieged were hopeful that some good fortune
would bring the strong body of stockmen that way; but the vision was
rewarded by no such welcome sight.
Capt. Asbury received a shock just before night closed in. So many
hours had passed without the exchange of a shot that both parties
exposed themselves freely. Had they chosen, a good many might have
been picked off; but the general understanding that the hour had not
yet come for action, threatened, at times, to change the impending
tragedy into a most ordinary situation.
Capt. Asbury was sitting by one of the front windows, smoking his
briarwood, and looking nowhere in particular, when he saw a man
kneeling on top of the ridge and carefully sighting his gun at him.
Before the fellow could secure an aim the officer moved quickly back
out of sight, and he vanished.
"I have no doubt it was Duke Vesey," he thought; "what a pity I did
not shoot him last night."
He judged it not worth while to tell any of the rest of the incident,
but he took care not to tempt the fellow again by a second exposure to
his aim.
But for this prompt action on the part of the leader, a frightful
conflict must have been precipitated. The shooting of the captain
would cause retaliation on the part of the stockmen, and it would
instantly become a question as to which could do the most execution.
The occurrence was startling enough of itself, but Capt. Asbury
quickly recovered, only to find himself troubled by another matter,
which was more serious.
It was the doubt whether the intended crime of Vesey was solely of his
own responsibility. Was it not likely that he had received permission
from Inman to end the suspense by shooting the captain of the
stockmen? The captain knew that he was as much detested by the leading
rustlers as by Vesey. Probably the men were growing too impatient to
be restrained much longer.
The suspicion appeared more reasonable from the fact that, the leader
once "removed," there would remain but the single exception to those
guaranteed honorable treatment. Surrender, therefore, would be more
probable.
No single shot could do so much to aid the rustlers as that which came
near being made.
"This strained situation can't last much longer; I believe it will be
settled before the rise of to-morrow's sun."
Monteith Sterry secured more than one chance of a few words with
Jennie. The sense of danger naturally draws persons closer together,
though the incentive was hardly needed in their case.
"Monteith," said she, as they sat apart by themselves, with the shadow
of the coming night gradually closing around, "what is to be the end
of all this?"
"I will tell you what I think," he replied, and thereupon read in a
guarded voice the letter received from Duke Vesey, after which they
burned it, that it might not fall into hands that could injure the
sender.
"You can see that we are going to be favoured with a very dark night,
and Vesey is so anxious to befriend me that I am sure he will find the
way, though Hawkridge and the captain are less confident."
"But suppose they recognize you?"
"They can't do that in the darkness, and my rustling friend will not
draw me into a peril that is greater than that of staying here."
"I feel as do Mr. Hawkridge and Capt. Asbury," she said, unable to
share his ardour.
"Then do you wish me to stay here?"
"I think it is safer."
"And go up in flame and smoke?"
"Won't you be willing to share the risk with me?" she asked, entering
into his half-jocose vein.
"But the rustlers will save you that risk; they will give you a good
point of observation, from which you can have a fine view of the
scene."
"Suppose mother and I refuse to leave?"
"I am certain you will not do that," said Sterry, gravely, "for you
will be in great danger under any circumstances."
"But if we remain they may not try to fire the house."
He shook his head.
"Dismiss all idea of that; do not fancy, because hours have passed
without the exchange of a shot, that there is any friendship between
the parties. By and by a gun will be fired; somebody will be hurt, and
then they will be at it like so many tigers. No, Jennie," he added,
"when the warning comes for you and your mother to withdraw you must
do so, not only for your own sake, but for ours."
"And how yours?"
"We--that is, the men--can fight much better when your presence causes
them no anxiety."
"But, tell me, do not Capt. Asbury and the rest feel hopeful of
beating off the rustlers?"
"Of course they will make a brave fight, and there is a chance of
their success, but I shudder when I think of what the cost will be to
both sides. How much better if all this can be averted."
"True, indeed! And if I could be assured that you would succeed in
reaching the camp of the cattlemen, I would bid you Godspeed."
"I certainly will never reach it by staying here, and I think if my
chances were doubly less they ought to be taken for the sake of the
good that will come to all."
At this juncture, Capt. Asbury, sitting near the window, called out:
"Here's a visitor!"
In the gloom he was not clearly visible, even though he was seen to
advance, and heard to knock on the door. But when the latter was
opened, Fred Whitney stepped inside.
Here the gathering darkness was more pronounced, for it was not deemed
prudent to have a light.
"Inman has sent me with his ultimatum," said the messenger; "he says
he has given you abundant time to think over the matter, and wants
your decision."
"What are his terms?" asked Capt. Asbury.
"The same as before."
"He promises to treat all of us as prisoners of war, with the
exception of Sterry and myself. We are guaranteed a trial, which is
another way of saying we shall be shot. I will allow my men to vote on
the question," added the leader.
The indignant protests, however, compelled the officer to recall his
harsh remark.
"Of course I knew that would be your reply," Fred hastened to say;
"and it is what Inman and Cadmus expect. I have been sent to bring my
mother and sister out of the house, for the rustlers intend to attack
you before morning. That means, too, that they intend to burn it."
The three defenders who were in the secret saw the danger in which
this placed Sterry's intended flight.
If the attack were made before 10 o'clock, there could be no possible
opportunity for his getting away. Some means, therefore, must be
found for deferring the assault until after that hour, if it could be
accomplished without arousing the suspicions of the rustlers.