IN THE HANDS OF THE ENEMY
In the first surprise of that unexpected joyful cry ringing at my very
ears all my senses seemed confused, and I stood motionless. Then I heard
Bungay utter a smothered oath, and knew he had wheeled about in the
darkness. Unable to distinguish the slightest outline of his figure, I
was yet impressed with the thought that he was endeavoring to muffle the
girl, to prevent her uttering a second cry. Impelled by this intuition I
flung out my arm hastily, and by rare good luck it came in contact with
his hand.
“None of that, you little cur!” I muttered sternly, unmindful of his
efforts to break away. “No hand on her, mind you! Mrs. Brennan, what
does this mean?”
She made no attempt to answer, but I could hear her now groping her way
through the darkness toward the place of our entrance. Bungay detected
the movement also, and made a violent effort to break loose from my
grip, that he might hurry after her.
“You lit go o' me,” he cried excitedly, “er, by goir, I'll use a knife.
She'll give this whole thing away if she ever gits out.”
For answer I hurled him backward with all my strength and sprang after
the fleeing woman. But I was already too late to stop her, even had that
been my intention. With strength yielded her by desperation, she thrust
aside the heavy cupboard, and as the light swept in, sprang forward into
the rude shed. With another bound, gathering her skirts as she ran, she
was up the steps and had burst into the outer room. A moment later I
also stood in the doorway, gazing upon a scene that made my blood like
fire.
The fighting had evidently ceased suddenly with her first cry. Maria
stood panting in one corner, the deadly skillet again in her hand, her
hair hanging in wisps down her back. Still unconscious from the blow he
had received, one fellow lay outstretched on the floor, his head barely
missing the hot ashes of the fireplace; while his companion nursed his
bruises and scowled from a safe refuge behind the table. The unshaven
faces of several others of the gang were peering curiously in through
the open door. I know now I saw all this, for the picture of it is
upon the retina of memory, but at the moment everything I appeared to
perceive or hear occurred in the centre of the room.
The man who had posed as the leader stood there alone facing us,
his expression a strange mixture of amazement and delight. He was a
powerfully built man, with keen gray eyes deeply set in their sockets.
His right hand rested heavily upon the hilt of a cavalry sabre, the
scabbard of which was concealed beneath the folds of the long brown coat
he wore. As Mrs. Brennan burst through the doorway he stepped eagerly
forward, his eyes brightening, and they met with clasped hands.
“Is it possible--Edith?” he cried, as if the recognition could scarcely
be credited.
“Oh, Frank!” she exclaimed, eagerly, “it seems all too good to be true.
How came you here?”
“Hunting after you, my fair lady. Did you suppose you could disappear as
mysteriously as you did last night without my being early on the trail?
Have these people injured you in any way?” And he glanced about him with
a threat in his gesture.
“Oh, no, Frank,” hastily; “every one has been most kind. It was a mere
mistake. But how strangely you are dressed! how very rough you look!”
He laughed, but still retained his warm clasp of her hands.
“Not the pomp and circumstance of glorious war which you expected,
girl?” he asked lightly. “But we have all sorts of conditions to meet
down here, and soon learn in Rome to do as the Romans do.”
As he finished speaking he perceived me for the first time, and his face
changed instantly into cold sternness. I saw him sweep one hasty glance
around, as though he suspected that I might not be alone, and his hand
fell once more upon his sword hilt, in posture suggestive of readiness
for action.
“Who have we here?” he asked, staring at me in amazement. “A Johnny
Reb?”
“Whatever I am,” I retorted, my gorge rising suddenly at his
contemptuous term, and stepping out into the room before him, “I at
least wear the uniform of my service and rank, and not the nondescript
garments of a guerilla.”
The scornful words stung him; I noticed the quick flush of anger in his
eyes, and was not sorry.
“You are insolent, sir. Moreover, you go too far, for as it chances
you are well within our lines, and we will see to what extent honor is
consistent with the work of a spy. The uniform of your service, indeed!”
he echoed hotly, pointing as he spoke across the room; “that cavalry
cloak over yonder tells its own story. Peters, Steele, arrest this
fellow.”
“Frank, don't do that,” she urged earnestly. “You mistake; that was the
cloak I wore.”
If he heard her he gave no sign.
“Bind him,” was the stern order, as the two men advanced. “Use your
belts if you have nothing else handy.”
Angry as I most assuredly was, swept also by a new emotion which I did
not in the least comprehend, I yet fully realized the utter helplessness
of my position in point of resistance. They were twenty to one. However
much I longed to grapple with him who mocked me, the very thought was
insanity; my only possible chance of escape lay in flight. To realize
this was to act. I leaped backward, trusting for a clear field in my
rear, and an opportunity to run for it, but the door by which I had just
entered was now closed and barred--Bungay had made sure his retreat. The
man, watching my every movement, with sword half drawn in his hand, saw
instantly that I was securely trapped, and laughed in scorn.
“You are not making war on women now,” he said with a cutting sneer.
“You will not find me so easy a victim.”
The taunt stung me, but more the tone and manner of the speaker, and the
hot blood of youth cast all caution to the winds. With a single spring,
forgetful of my own wound, I was at his throat, dashed aside his
uplifted hand, and by the sheer audacity of my sudden, unexpected
onset, bore him back crashing to the floor. He struggled gamely, yet
I possessed the advantage of position, and would have punished him
severely, but for the dozen strong hands which instantly laid hold upon
me, and dragged me off, still fighting madly, although as helpless as a
child.
My opponent instantly leaped to his feet and started forward, drawing a
revolver as he came. His face was deathly white from passion, and there
was a look in his eyes which told me he would be restrained now by no
rule of war.
“You cowardly spy!” he cried, and my ears caught the sharp click as he
drew back the hammer. “Do you think I will let that blow go unavenged?”
“I assuredly trust not,” I answered, gazing up at him from behind the
gun muzzles with which I was yet securely pinned to the floor. “But
if you are, as I am led to believe, a Federal officer, with some
pretensions to being also a gentleman, and not the outlaw your clothes
proclaim, you will at least permit me to stand upon my feet and face you
as a man. If I am a spy, as you seem inclined to claim, there are army
courts to try me; if not, then I am your equal in standing and rank, and
have every right of a prisoner of war.”
“This has become personal,” hoarsely. “Your blow, as well as your
connection with the forcible abduction of this young lady, whose legal
protector I am, are not matters to be settled by an army court.”
“Then permit me to meet you in any satisfactory way. The murder of a
helpless man will scarcely clarify your honor.”
I knew from the unrelenting expression upon his face that my plea was
likely to prove a perfectly useless one, but before I had ended it Mrs.
Brennan stood between us.
“Frank,” she said calmly, “you shall not. This man is a Confederate
officer; he is no spy; and during all the events of last night he has
proven himself a friend rather than an enemy. Only for my sake is he
here now.”
Ignoring the look upon his face she turned toward me, impetuously waved
aside the fellows who yet held me prostrate, and extending her hand
lifted me to my feet. For an instant, as if by accident, our eyes met,
and a sudden flush swept across her throat and cheeks.
“It is my turn now,” she whispered softly, so softly the words did not
carry beyond my own ears. Then she stood erect between us, as though in
her own drawing-room, and gravely presented us to each other, as if she
dared either to quarrel longer in her presence.
“Major Brennan, Captain Wayne.”
We bowed to each other as men salute on the duelling field. In his eyes
I read an unforgiveness, a bitter personal enmity, which I returned with
interest, and secretly rejoiced over.
“The lady seems to be in control at present,” he said shortly, shoving
back the revolver into his belt. “Nevertheless I shall do my military
duty, and hold you as a prisoner. May I inquire your full name and
rank?”
“Philip Wayne, Captain ----th Virginia Cavalry, Shirtley's Brigade.”
“Why are you within our lines?”
“I attempted to pass through them last night with despatches, but was
prevented by my desire to be of assistance to this lady.”
“Indeed?” He smiled incredulously. “Your tale is quite interesting and
rather romantic. I presume you yet carry the papers with you as evidence
of its truth?”
“If you refer to the despatches, I do not. I sincerely trust they are
already safely deposited in the hands of the one for whom they were
intended.”
A malignant look crept into Brennan's face, and his jaws set ominously.
“You will have to concoct a far better story than that, my friend,
before you face Sheridan,” he said insolently, “or you will be very apt
to learn how a rope feels. He is not inclined to parley long with such
fellows as you. Bind his hands, men, and take him out with you into the
road.”
The two soldiers grasped me instantly at the word of command. For a
single moment I braced myself to resist, but even as I did so my eyes
fell upon a slight opening in the wall, and I caught a quick glimpse of
Bungay's face, his finger to his lips. Even as I gazed in astonishment
at this sudden apparition, a lighter touch rested pleadingly on my arm.
“Do not struggle any longer, Captain Wayne,” spoke Mrs. Brennan's voice,
gently. “I will go to General Sheridan myself, and tell him the entire
story.”
I bowed to her, and held out my hands to be bound.
“I yield myself your prisoner, madam,” I said meaningly, and not
unconscious that her glance sank before mine. “I even imagine the bonds
may prove not altogether unpleasant.”
Brennan strode between us hastily, and with quick gesture to his men.
“Bind the fellow,” he said sternly. “And mind you, sir, one word more,
and they shall buck you as well. It may be valuable for you to remember
that I am in command here, however I may seem to yield to the wish of
Mrs. Brennan.”