A CHANGE OF SITUATIONS.
Crothers as usual brought me my meals, and in that respect I was well
treated. The night passed without event, and the next morning I was
allowed to take a walk around the fort between Crothers and another
soldier, but I saw nothing of either the colonel or his daughter.
I tried to pump Crothers, but he was proof against my most skilful
questions, and when I returned to my room I could boast no increase
of knowledge. Yet I was not much depressed. I comforted myself with
the old reflection that it was the year of peace 1896, and I would not
become really alarmed until I stood up before a file of the colonel's
men and looked into the muzzles of their rifles.
I received a visit the next morning from the colonel himself. His
manner was still of a piece with that he had shown on the return
march from the mountains, marked by a certain haughtiness and reserve
differing much from the fiery temperament characteristic of him.
"Well, am I to be shot to-day, colonel?" I asked, and I think I asked
it cheerfully, for, mark you, I had returned to my old state of
incredulity.
"Not to-day," he said. "I have decided to postpone it until I find out
where the treason in my garrison lies. You can see that your death
might be in the way of my investigation."
I could see it with ease, and I was glad that it was so.
He asked me a lot of questions which he intended to be adroit, but I
saw their drift clearly enough, and led him further astray. When he was
through he knew less than ever about my rescuer, and I let him think
it was one of his men.
"I shall discover the man by to-morrow," he said, with a show of
confidence which was but a show, "and his fate shall be severe enough
to put a stop to any leanings others may have the same way."
Three days more passed in this manner. I was permitted to take two
walks daily around the fort in the company of Crothers and another man,
but, as before, I could obtain no information from them, and I remained
in ignorance of the colonel's progress or lack of progress with his
secret service.
On the fourth day my door was abruptly thrown open, and Grace Hetherill
entered. Her face showed great excitement. The door was not closed
behind her, but stood wide open, and I noticed that no sentry was in
the hall. I was convinced that something of importance had happened.
"Mr. West," she said, "we need your help."
"My help," I exclaimed, involuntarily. "How can I, who need it so much
myself, give anybody help?"
"But you can," she cried. "There is trouble in Fort Defiance."
Then, her first flush of excitement over, she told me the story calmly.
She was not long in the telling.
Her hint to her father that Dr. Ambrose might have been the man who
assisted in my escape had produced greater results than she expected.
The old colonel had watched the doctor closely, and at last had accused
him of treason to the Confederate government. Thereupon the doctor,
who was superior in intelligence and information to the other men, and
knew what was passing in the world, had advised him to free me, and to
haul down the stars and bars, as the cause was lost beyond the hope of
revival.
"My father flew into a terrible rage," said Grace. "He ordered that Dr.
Ambrose be locked up at once, and it is his intention to have him shot
when he shoots you."
"Miss Hetherill," I said, "you must tell your father that Dr. Ambrose
had nothing to do with my escape."
"That would do no good now," she said, "and might do harm. It would not
help Dr. Ambrose, for my father regards his proposition to surrender as
the worst treason of all, and if I were to say that it was I and not
the doctor who helped you, he would not believe me."
This put a new phase on the matter. I felt very sorry for the doctor,
who had got himself into trouble on my account. I did not know what to
say, but Miss Hetherill interpreted my look.
"Do not fear for Dr. Ambrose," she said. "Some of the men have begun to
be of his way of thinking, and my father will not be able to carry out
his sentence against either the doctor or you."
I understood at once. A revolt was threatened in the camp, and her
fear was neither for the doctor nor for me, but for her father. I felt
rather cheap.
"I will help you all I can, Miss Hetherill," I said, a little stiffly,
"but I fail to see anything that I can do. As you know, I am a prisoner
here."
"But you are not as strictly guarded as you were," she said. "My
father's rage against Dr. Ambrose has withdrawn his attention from you,
and within a day you may have another chance to escape. He wants you to
come now and testify against Dr. Ambrose."
"I cannot do that," I said.
"I do not want you to do so," she said, quickly. "You must say that
you made your escape without help, that you picked the lock of your
door,--or anything else you choose to say."
It was a falsehood she asked me to tell, but I was willing to tell it,
since the interests of four persons were involved in it,--hers, the
doctor's, mine, and, not least of all, the colonel's. Truly my coming
had aroused a mighty commotion in the house of Colonel Hetherill,
C.S.A., and perhaps too had opened it to new ideas. It had never
occurred to me before that I was such an important personage.
I followed Miss Hetherill to the second sitting of the military court
in the trial-room, though this time as a witness and not as the accused.
The colonel was majestic at the head of the table. He was in a splendid
gray uniform, gay with gold lace, as if he deemed the occasion worthy
of his best appearance. Crothers had taken the place of Dr. Ambrose as
secretary, and the doctor himself was at the foot of the table.
The examination was brief, and to the colonel very unsatisfactory. I
made a poor witness. I denied that any one had helped me, and the
doctor with equal emphasis denied complicity. The colonel frowned at
me, but the doctor received the larger share of his attention, and I
was of the opinion that the colonel considered him a greater villain
than myself, as I was an enemy by birth, while the doctor was a
household traitor.
"You do not deny making to me the proposition that we surrender to the
Federal government?" finally said the colonel.
"Not at all," said the doctor, firmly. "That was my suggestion, and I
repeat it. We alone are holding out. What chance have we ever to carry
our cause through to success?"
Colonel Hetherill looked around at his men as if he feared the effect
of those words upon them. They were impassive, though I inferred from
what Grace had said that several were beginning to share the doctor's
way of thinking.
"Your answer," said the colonel to Dr. Ambrose, "is sufficient proof of
treasonable designs. The answer itself I consider treason. I will hear
no more."
He promptly dissolved the court, ordered Dr. Ambrose and myself to be
locked up again, and refused to listen to anything his daughter wished
to say. What further steps he took I did not know then, for under
escort I passed on to my room and was out of sight and hearing.
That evening Grace came to my room again, and, as before, she was
visibly under the influence of strong emotion.
"You must escape again to-night," she said, "and this time you must not
be overtaken. I have arranged everything, and it will be easy enough
for you to reach the mountains."
"What will become of Dr. Ambrose?" I asked.
"We will save him, too, though I do not yet know how," she said.
The doctor had taken his risk partly on my account, and I did not feel
like abandoning him in danger. I am willing to admit also that I wanted
to see how events at Fort Defiance would culminate. So I refused to
leave the fort. My refusal greatly disturbed Grace, and she begged me
to go. Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes luminous, and she looked very
beautiful.
"Would you have me think of myself alone?" I asked. "It is true that I
seem to have brought trouble here, but I can't cure it by slipping away
to-night. I mean to stay."
She had nothing more to say, but one look she gave me seemed to approve
of my decision. She left the room hastily, and I did not hear the key
turn in the lock. I tried the door, and found that it was not locked.
Through neglect or intention, I was free to go about Fort Defiance,
and I inferred that the colonel's affairs in truth were in a critical
state, if so little attention was paid to me. I looked out in the
hall, but saw no one. I walked lightly to the top of the stair-case,
but, hearing voices below, concluded it would be best to return to my
room. From the window I saw that the drawbridge was up, and I doubted
the chances of escape, even had I wished it.
I remained there an hour or so, trying to decide upon the wisest
course. Unable to come to any decision, I went into the hall again for
lack of something better to do. From the top of the stair-case I heard
voices in loud and excited conversation. I crept half-way down the
steps. I stopped there to listen further, and feeling sure that some
event of great importance had happened, I walked boldly all the way
down.
The front door, which looked out upon the little brass cannon, was wide
open. Grace and Crothers stood near it, talking in hurried and excited
tones. A half-dozen soldiers were about them, and occasionally they
said something as if by way of suggestion. They paid no attention to me
until I came so close that Grace herself could not help noticing me.
"Oh, Mr. West!" she cried. "We are so glad you are here now!"
Naturally I was full of interest and curiosity, and asked the cause of
the trouble. Then they told me that Dr. Ambrose had escaped, by the
connivance of some one, I guessed, and had fled to the mountains. The
colonel, discovering his escape, had called upon his men to pursue him,
and if necessary shoot him on sight. They had refused unanimously to
go, and the colonel in his rage had taken his old army rifle and had
gone alone.
Here in truth was a pretty muddle. The colonel's state of mind was
such that without doubt he would shoot the doctor if he found an
opportunity, which would be a double tragedy to all the people of Fort
Defiance.
"The colonel must be pursued and overtaken," I said.
"At once," said Grace, with an emphasis that showed I had only seconded
her own argument.
Crothers and all the others looked at me as if waiting for a
suggestion. I seemed by an easy transition to change from the prisoner
of Fort Defiance to its chief. Since they looked upon me as such, that
I decided to be.
"What road did the colonel take?" I asked of Crothers.
"There is only one passable way out of the mountains," replied
Crothers; "the one you followed. We know that both the doctor and the
colonel took it."
I saw a look of intelligence pass between him and Grace, and I wondered
no longer at the doctor's escape or his destination. Our duty and the
method of doing it were plainly before us.
It required but a few minutes for me to organize our search and rescue
expedition. I made Crothers my lieutenant, and took all but four men,
leaving these to care for the house. Food enough for several days and
blankets for the night were collected hastily, and then we were ready.
Miss Hetherill approached cloaked and hooded. To my protest she replied
with much firmness that she was going with us.
"But the road over these mountains is not fit for a lady to travel," I
said.
"I have been over that road often, and I know these mountains much
better than you, Mr. West," she replied.
I could not dispute her assertion, and moreover her presence would be
useful to us in certain contingencies. She was a strong, active girl;
and I made no further objection. We left the house; the drawbridge was
lowered to let us pass, and when we had crossed was raised again.
In a few minutes we were out of the valley and in the mountains,
following the old road. As it was my second journey, I saw how easy it
was for the colonel and his men to pursue and overtake me. It was the
only real road through the mountains, and one followed it as naturally
as the waters of a brook flow down its channel.
"How long a start of us has the colonel?" I asked.
"Not more than an hour," replied Crothers; "but he is strong, in spite
of his age, and a good mountaineer. I guess he can go faster than we
can."
It is true that one man, other things being equal, can travel faster
than half a dozen who stick together, and in it lay the danger that the
colonel would out-foot us. But there was consolation in the thought
that Dr. Ambrose had the same advantage.
It was an indifferent night, neither very clear nor very dark. There
was light enough to show the peaks and the ravines, but only to
distort them. I let Crothers, who knew the way, take the lead, and I
dropped back by the side of Miss Hetherill. We were silent for some
time; then I made a lame apology for blundering upon Fort Defiance and
bringing such trouble to its inmates.
"It is not your fault that you came, Mr. West," she said, "and even if
you had come by intention we would have no right to complain. Something
of the kind was bound to happen some day."
I was glad that she admitted the abnormal conditions of Fort Defiance.
That she knew them was obvious, for she had passed but little of her
life there and knew the swing of the world.
We made speed, despite the roughness of the way. Some mists or fine
clouds sifted before the moon, and the visible world became small. But
we went on without uncertainty. The fugitive could not well turn from
the path, nor could the pursuer.
I saw Crothers looking up at the white, silky clouds: once he shook
his head doubtfully, but I did not ask him his thought. With plenty of
company, the mountains did not impress or awe me as on the night of my
flight. Once our course dipped into a little valley down which a brook
trickled. In the soft earth on either side of it the vigilant Crothers
saw footsteps which he said were those of two men. We knew the two men
must be the doctor and the colonel.
"I should judge from those footprints, though I can't tell precisely,"
said Crothers, "that we haven't gained anything on them."
This was somewhat discouraging, and our enthusiasm did not grow when
the path, after leaving the valley, or rather slit in the hills, led
up a very steep and long slope. Our muscles relaxed under the strain,
and the breath came in irregular puffs. I was very tired, but I was
not willing to own it, especially as I saw Grace walking with still
vigorous step. She had told the truth when she said she was a better
mountaineer than I.
The mists thickened. The moon was but a faint glimmer through them,
and they drifted like lazy clouds. Our world narrowed again, and
instinctively we walked very close together. It was like a fog at sea;
the damp of it carried a raw penetrating chill. There was no wind to
moan or sing through the ravines; the mountains were silent save for
ourselves. Crothers suggested a light, and produced from under his coat
the torch with which he had provided himself in view of such emergency.
It was a long stick, soaked in some compound of tar and turpentine,
and when he lighted one end and held it aloft it burned with energy,
casting a bright, cheerful light.
Nevertheless we shivered in our clothes; the chill in the air was
insistent, and the mist was soaking into the ground and the autumn
foliage. All the world seemed to be a-sweat, and, poor woodsman as I
was, I knew that this had its perils. Pneumonia is not picturesque, but
it is very dangerous.
Crothers looked at me several times as if he expected me to make a
suggestion, but, though by common consent I was the leader of the
party, I waited for him to make it, as he knew more about mountains and
forests than I. But we plodded on for a long time before he spoke. Then
he announced that we must stop for a while and build a fire.
"If we don't," he said, "we'll be soaked through and through with the
cold mist, and in another hour some of us will be shaking with the
chills and fever."
Grace protested against stopping. She was in the greatest alarm lest
a tragedy should happen ahead of us, but, while we felt the same fear,
we recognized also the truth of the old maxim about the futility of too
much haste. I pointed out the dangers to her, and urged that her father
probably had sought shelter somewhere before this. She was compelled
to yield, not to my arguments necessarily, but to her own judgment. I
often think what a jolly world this would be if our judgment and our
wishes were always agreed.
We chose a somewhat sheltered spot, which was not difficult to find in
a region of hill on hill, criss-crossed with ravines and gullies, and
gathered heaps of brushwood. The fire was much more difficult to light
than on the night when I was the colonel's prisoner, but we set it to
burning at last, and glad we were when the flames rose high up in the
chilly darkness.
We refreshed ourselves with a little supper. Then Crothers insisted
that some of us, and especially Miss Hetherill, should get a little
sleep. Again she showed herself a wise girl by trying to obey, despite
her wishes. We made her a bed of blankets between the fire and a cliff,
and, though she said she would not be able to sleep, in half an hour
she slept. As she lay there with a bit of her pale, weary face showing
above the blankets, I felt very sorry for her, far sorrier than I had
ever felt for myself, even when under sentence of death; I could see
the reality of her trouble, and I had never believed fully in mine.
All the men except Crothers and I and a third rolled themselves in
their blankets and slept. I sat by the fire, wondering what the outcome
of it all would be. I noticed that Crothers continued to look up
uneasily at the skies and the clouded moon, and at last I asked him
what he might have on his mind.
"Bad weather," he replied, briefly.
"We have that already," I said, pointing to the cliffs soaking in the
wet mist.
"More coming," he said, putting on a very weatherwise look.
"What do you expect?" I asked.
"Maybe snow, but more likely sleet, and that, too, before morning," he
replied. "It's early for such things, but all the signs point that way."
I asked him no more. This was most unpromising, and gave full warrant
for his grave looks. The mists were lifting, though very slowly, and
were gathering in clouds above us. The peaks were ghostly gray, and the
moon narrowed to a half-rim of steel and then disappeared altogether.
The dampness remained in the air, but the cold was too great for rain.
As Crothers said, either snow or sleet would come.
I suggested to Crothers that we make some sort of protection for Miss
Hetherill. We built up little walls of brush on three sides of her and
covered them over with the same material. She slept so heavily from
exhaustion, poor girl, that she never awakened to our noise, and when
we finished our improvised hut our satisfaction was all the greater
because we had not disturbed her at all.
Then we built up the fires and waited for what might come. I dozed
awhile, and awoke to find that the clouds had thickened. All the peaks
were hidden by them, and there was some wind, just enough to make a
subdued moan. Crothers said it lacked about two hours of day. I noticed
that he had put the men at work again, and they had gathered brushwood
sufficient to make the camp-fire of a regiment.
"The clouds will do what they are going to do very soon," said
Crothers; and he was right. Presently we heard a patter upon the dry
leaves like the falling of dust-shot. Little white kernels rebounded
and fell again. One lodged in my eye, and I winked until I got it out.
The patter increased; the dust-shot turned to bird-shot.
"Hail," said Crothers. "We're in for it."
We woke all the men and made shelter for ourselves as best we could
in the lee of the cliff. Another blanket spread over the top of
Grace's rude bower was sufficient protection for her. Soon we had a
fine downpour of hail. It was like a white bombardment, from which we
were safe within our works. I would have been content to watch it,
had it not put such obstacles in the way of our pursuit. The ground
whitened quickly under the fall of the hail, and by and by, when the
wind shifted to the south, the clouds discharged rain instead of hail.
This was no improvement, and in fact its probable sequel was what we
dreaded most. The shift of the wind came again, and then happened what
often happens in our fickle climate: the rain which covered everything
turned to ice under the wind from the north, and in an hour the earth
was clad in a complete suit of white armor.
The sun was just rising above the last peaks. Every cloud had gone from
the sky, and the day, hidden before by the wall of mountains, seemed
to come all at once. Every ray of the sun was caught up by the sheet
of white and gleaming ice and reflected back. Our eyes were dazzled by
the brilliancy of the morning, for the ice covered everything. Every
leaf, every twig, was encrusted with it. It was all very beautiful, and
all very dangerous. Mountain-climbing on sheets of ice is a slippery
business.
As usual, I turned to Crothers for advice.
"We'll have to creep along as best we can," he said. "But, while we
can't go fast, neither can the doctor nor the colonel."
This was the one redeeming point of the situation. Whatever affected
us affected both the pursued, and we remained on an equal footing. We
awoke Grace, who was astonished and dismayed at the sight of the earth
cased in ice. Then we had a little breakfast, and prepared to resume
our dangerous pursuit.
I had heard of Alpine climbing, and, though I had never done any of
it, the virtues of an alpenstock were not unknown to me. We selected
slender but stout sticks from the brushwood, sharpened the ends, and,
having hardened them in the fire, made our start, each thus provided.
It was treacherous work, and our falls were many, but we were satisfied
to escape with mere bruises, for one might easily pitch over a
precipice or tumble down a long, steep-hill slope and become a mere bag
of broken bones.
The sun shone in splendor, but the rays were without warmth. They were
white, not yellow, and a white light is always cold. The brilliant
reflection from the ice-fields forced us to keep our eyes half closed,
if we did not want to be blinded.