THE EXECUTION
Depressed as Noel was by his recent interview with the colonel, he
nevertheless was surprised when he approached the tent to find that the
guards had been changed. The young soldier was not yet aware that when
deserters were put under guard certain selected men were stationed with
loaded muskets about the tent of those who had been condemned. Every two
hours the guard was relieved.
Nor was any soldier ever compelled to stand guard over a deserter from
his own company or regiment. Naturally it was very difficult for one
comrade to be compelled to enforce so severe a rule as that which was
applied to men who deserted, when the guilty comrade, perhaps, was a
schoolmate, a relative, or even a brother. Besides, there was the
continual fear of the officers that if such men were placed in charge
there would naturally be the danger of a plot or a plan for the escape
of those who were condemned. It was for this reason that Noel and
Dennis, in any event, would have been assigned to a guard-tent in some
company in which they were not likely to have any acquaintances, or
even any friends among its members.
As soon as Noel entered the tent, Dennis was aware from the expression
of his face that his mission had not been successful.
"What is it, lad?" he whispered as he drew the young soldier to one
side.
Noel shook his head as he replied, "The colonel wouldn't believe a
word."
"The colonel is as bad as that little spalpeen, the sutler!"
"I wouldn't mind it so much," said Noel, "if they would first really
find out what the truth of the charge is, but it seems that they have
taken the word of Levi, and now anything we can say doesn't seem to
count for much against it."
"But they'll give us a trial. They'll hold a court-martial before
anything is done," protested Dennis.
"I hope so," said Noel. "I don't know how it will be held, or how fair a
show we'll have. It's the only square way, though, and if it's possible
I am going to try to make an appeal. I have thought of sending for the
chaplain. I think he might be able to do something for us if any man in
the regiment can."
"Who is the chaplain?"
"I don't know who he is, but we'll be able to find that out later."
A low conversation which followed between the inmates of the tent
revealed the fact that several of the men already had been tried and
condemned by court-martial for desertion. Every one was bitter against
those who had passed sentence upon him. Noel was surprised to find that
the men were all claiming, what he himself had asserted as the cause for
the mistake in his arrest, that some one had brought a false charge
against them.
Not unnaturally both the young soldiers were depressed when darkness
came on, and Noel was unable to sleep. Mortified by the charge as well
as anxious, he lay with wide-open eyes staring in the dim light at the
top of his tent and wondering what the following day would bring forth.
The sound of guns in the distance, the restlessness that was manifested
among the soldiers, the evident interest with which the colonel was
reading some dispatches that he had received, as well as the severity
with which the so-called deserters were being treated, all combined to
make the young soldier confident that stirring action was speedily
expected.
The following morning dawned wonderfully clear. When Dennis awoke the
sun was shining brightly and the morning air was soft and still.
When the boys first arose they were startled at the presence of two
ambulances in front of their tent. In each of these ambulances there was
a rough coffin of wood. That these gruesome objects should have been
brought to the place where the prisoners under the charge of desertion
were confined at first had not been suggestive to Noel. He was soon
aware, however, what the explanation was, and his face became pallid
when he heard two of his companions ordered to advance and each man to
take his seat on a coffin. A detail of soldiers had been assigned to
draw these two ambulances and in solemn silence were awaiting the coming
of the condemned men.
Noel Curtis shuddered when one of the prisoners, stepping lightly into
the ambulance, seated himself upon the long box, and, rapping upon the
wood, turned to some of the watching soldiers and flippantly said,
"Boys, can't you put some shavings or something a little softer in my
box? It looks as if it might be a pretty hard nest to rest in."
Instead of laughter or applause greeting his coarse remarks, the
silence and disgust of the assembled soldiers seemed to react with
solemn force upon the condemned man. At last the word was given and the
cavalcade departed, leaving the remaining prisoners in the guard-tent
dumb with the horror of the event.
Difficult as Noel Curtis had found it, in his previous experiences in
the campaign on the Peninsula, to control his feelings when he found
that he was actually shooting at a human being, that experience was by
no means equal to the suffering which he now was undergoing.
There might be some justification for men making targets of one another
when some great issue had been raised, but the young sharpshooter was
now fully aware that war was no holiday game. His heart rebelled against
many of the things which he saw, and yet the supreme issue of it all and
the fact that war had been declared and accepted, and that there was no
relief or release until one side or the other in the great conflict had
won its victory, could not be ignored.
His thoughts now were centered upon the men who had been taken away from
the tent for their execution. The presence of the detail implied that
both men were to be shot, a method of execution not quite so revolting
as that by hanging.
Some of the men under sentence in the guard-tent seemed to be dumb with
fear, while others more stolidly expressed their complaints over the
outcome of the court-martial which had been held for the two condemned
men the preceding day.
Several times when shots were heard near the place where the division
was in camp, Noel fancied that the report was that of the guns of the
men who had been detailed to shoot the two deserters.
In his interview with the colonel the young soldier had been informed
that desertion was becoming so frequent in the army at this time that
orders for the sternest measures to break it up had been issued. No man
now might expect any mercy who should flee from his post of duty.
Sometimes homesickness had been the cause of the men leaving their
comrades. The thoughts or recollections of family and friends in the
far-away North had produced a longing in the midst of the monotony of
the camp work and of the army life that had been too strong for some to
resist. Others, however, had become tired of the service when the
novelty of the first days was gone and had fled simply to evade the
difficulties and drudgery which are a part of the campaign of any army.
Whatever the cause may have been, the fact could not be denied, and Noel
Curtis understood fully the reasons for the sterner measures which now
were being used. Perhaps they might be justified, he thought, although
the unspeakable horror which had appeared in the expression on the faces
of the two condemned men, when at last they were taken from the tent,
was something which he was positive he never would be able to forget.
Somehow the morning passed. The guards were changed more frequently, and
it was evident to the waiting men that they had not been forgotten in
the midst of the excitement of the army in the knowledge that the enemy
was not far distant.
"I thought you were going to send for the chaplain?" suggested Dennis to
Noel when an hour or more had elapsed.
"So I am," said Noel promptly. "I had not forgotten it. It doesn't seem
to me, though, that any man will be able to help us much, when the
colonel is not willing even to hear what we have to say for ourselves.
It seems to me that they ought to give us credit first of all for being
honest. But his plan apparently is to believe a man guilty and then let
him prove his innocence, if he is able."
"Niver you fear, lad. The chaplain will be able to help us out."
"We'll ask to see him, anyway," said Noel.
Accordingly, when the guard next was called, Noel succeeded in
attracting the attention of the sergeant and made known his desire to
receive a visit from the chaplain. Such a visit, he was aware, was
permitted, and he was not without hope that the coming of this man might
be of assistance to him and his hardly beset comrade.
Nearly an hour elapsed before the chaplain appeared. He was a young man,
and in his face there appeared an expression of friendliness. Noel was
drawn to him at once, even before he heard the somewhat abrupt and loud
tones of his voice.
"What can I do for you?" asked the chaplain, not unkindly, as he entered
the tent and was informed that Noel was the inmate who had requested the
visit.
"I wanted to see you and tell you my story," said Noel quietly. "I am
here under a false charge."
The interest of the chaplain instantly became less keen, as Noel
discovered to his dismay.
"That's what every man says," responded the chaplain quietly.
"Well, it's true in my case. Did those poor fellows who were taken out
this morning say they were not to blame?"
"They surely did," said the chaplain. "I wish I was able now to forget
the horror of that scene. A hollow square was formed and the two coffins
were placed in the open part. I shall never forget the moment when the
adjutant-general stepped out into a position a little in front of the
center of the square. He's a strong man and not much given to sentiment,
but his voice trembled, although it was clear and strong, when in the
presence of all the soldiers he read the finding of the court-martial."
"It must have been hard for the men who had been detailed," suggested
Noel in a low voice.
"It was. You understand, however, that the guns used by the provost
guard on occasions like that are always loaded by men who have been
appointed for that special purpose. It never would do in the world to
let the soldiers load their own guns."
"Why not?"
"Why, it's more than likely that they would use blank cartridges. No one
wants to be responsible for the death of a man even if he is under
sentence. That's the reason why the guns never are loaded by those who
are to do the shooting. However, they all know that a blank cartridge
has been placed in one of the guns, but they are never told which one it
is. This plan makes every man believe that his gun contained the blank
cartridge and that it was not his shot which killed the prisoner. While
the adjutant-general was reading the finding of the court-martial the
two men had to stand up. As soon as the officer had finished reading,
both men were ordered to kneel on their coffins and a paper heart was
pinned on the coat of each."
"What is a 'paper heart?'" asked Noel.
"Why, it's just a quarter of a sheet of ordinary notepaper. It's white,
you know, and provides a mark for the men who are usually selected
because they are good shots. One of these poor fellows, after he had
been blind-folded, shouted, 'Boys, shoot me here,' as he put his hand
upon his heart. 'Don't make any mistake, either!' I don't know whether
the rest of the men heard the final order of the provost guard or not.
His voice sounded to me as if it might have been a quarter of a mile
away, it was so indistinct, but somehow he managed to call out--'Ready!'
'Aim!' 'Fire!'"
"Did they find the paper hearts?" inquired Noel, almost in a whisper.
"Yes, both the poor fellows fell forward on their faces and never
breathed again."
Dennis O'Hara, who had been listening to the words of the chaplain,
although he had not taken part in any of the conversation, could
restrain his fears no longer.
"But, yer Riverence," he said, "why should they treat an innocent man
like that? I'm tellin' ye that we're the most loyal boys in Little Mac's
army. We're both sharpshooters and we both did our part down on the
Peninsula. Now to be set up here and shot down like a couple of dogs!
Why, instead of desartin', we just were doin' our best to escape from
the Johnnies. 'Tis pretty hard! The colonel won't listen to a word! We
can prove it to him, everything we say."
"Is that so?" inquired the chaplain, turning to Noel for confirmation.
"It is, sir," replied Noel.
"I don't know that anything can be done," said the chaplain. "It would
be horrible to make such a mistake as that. You are entitled to a trial,
anyway. Where is the man who made the charges against you?"
"I don't know," said Noel, "but I don't think he's here. My belief is
that he is a spy, anyway, and part of the time is in the other army."
"Let me take the number of your company and regiment and I shall very
gladly see what can be done. I don't want you to build your hopes too
high, but you may rest assured that I shall do for you all that is in my
power."
As soon as their visitor had jotted down in his notebook the few facts
and figures which he asked for, he at once left the tent.