A CONVERSATION IN THE DARK
In my extreme surprise at the intimate cordiality expressed by her words
and manner I failed in utterance. Anticipating coldness, indifference,
possibly even resentment at my presuming to approach her, I was instead
greeted by an unstudied warmth of welcome that made my heart beat
fiercely.
“Surely I am not mistaken,” she questioned, rendered doubtful by my
silence. “Is not this Captain Wayne?”
“There is no mistake,” I hastened to assure her, “but I had anticipated
from our last meeting a far less cordial greeting.”
“Oh,” she exclaimed, with a light laugh, “and is that all? Yet surely,
if I was to believe my own eyes I was perfectly justified in my actions
then. However, Captain, I have been forced to realize the truth of that
situation, and am now disposed to make up to you in kindness for all my
unjust suspicions.”
“I am more than delighted to learn that cloud is no longer to overshadow
us. Miss Minor has made a full explanation, then?”
“You have been completely exonerated, and restored to my good graces.”
As she spoke, I became aware that she was busily engaged upon some task,
and when she ended I felt the steel of a gun-barrel touch my hand.
“Please pass this to Maria,” she said calmly, “and hand me back the one
she has.”
“You are loading, then?” I asked, as I complied with her request.
“We have all been busy. Isn't it terrible? I was so frightened at first,
but now they tell me that you and your men have come, there is no longer
danger of those horrible creatures getting in here.”
“You knew, then, that I was in the house?”
“I was told some noble Confederates had accompanied Lieutenant Caton
back to aid us, but your name was not mentioned.”
“Then my appearance must have proven a complete surprise?”
“Yes, and no,” she answered frankly. “I was not sure it was you,
of course, and I did not venture to ask, but I knew you were in the
neighborhood, and that such an act would be in every way characteristic.
I was certain you would come if you knew, and I--I, well really, I hoped
it was.”
In spite of a slight effort at restraint I groped in the darkness until
I touched her hand. For the moment she permitted me to retain it, as if
unconsciously, within my grasp.
“Why?” I questioned, scarcely relying upon my own voice.
“Oh, one always trusts friends more readily than strangers, and I have
seen you in danger before, and possess such confidence in your courage
and resource.”
“But Miss Minor took particular care to inform me you felt little or no
interest in me--that you never even spoke of me except as she compelled
you to do so.”
For a moment she did not answer, and then with a light laugh said: “Did
she, really? How very kind of her, and how extremely intimate you must
have become to draw forth so frank a confession. However, Captain Wayne,
you must not give credence to all you hear about me, even from Celia.
You know one does not usually give public expression to one's more
secret thoughts, and I can assure you I have always been most deeply
interested whenever you were the subject of our conversations.”
“Her words made me feel I might be an intruder on your privacy.”
“You are never that. Cold as I appeared only a few hours ago, I was yet
thinking of you as I entered the arbor. Perhaps that was why the sight
meeting my eyes proved such a shock.”
Possibly she felt our conversation growing dangerously intimate, for in
the silence which ensued she gently withdrew her hand. As she did so
my fingers chanced to touch the plain gold ring she wore. It was like
a dash of water in my face, and instantly brought back to me our common
danger.
“How constant the firing continues,” she said at last, as I sat
struggling dumbly with temptation.
“A mere waste of powder, I fear,” was my reply, given thoughtlessly.
“When the rush finally comes we are likely to be without sufficient
ammunition to repel it.”
“When the rush comes?” she echoed in startled tone. “Do you expect an
assault?”
“I hardly expect those fellows out there will ever leave without a
most determined effort to carry the house by storm. They are here for
plunder, and will not be baffled easily, nor will the leaders hesitate
to sacrifice any number of lives to gain their end, especially now that
a desire for revenge has been added to the original lust for spoils.
I have been among them, you know, and learned enough of their power,
organization, and leadership to convince me they will never raise the
siege until they exhaust every resource. I have no doubt they are simply
drawing all this fire in the hope that our ammunition will thus be
uselessly expended. It is an old army trick, and one I am surprised to
see so experienced an officer as Major Brennan yield to. In my judgment
they will make an effort to rush us as soon as there is sufficient
light.”
“But why not warn him?”
I smiled to myself at the naive question. Surely it could not be
possible she remained ignorant of the feud existing between us. She had
twice witnessed our hostile meetings, and certainly could not forget how
we had last parted.
“Major Brennan would scarcely welcome any interference on my part.”
“But surely, as a soldier, he must value the advice of another soldier?”
“Possibly you forget,” I explained, striving to speak as lightly of it
as might be, “that there is a lack of friendship between Major Brennan
and myself.”
“Still?” she asked. “Truly I thought that might all be over. Even if
it survived until now, this noble act of yours in coming to our defence
should have earned you his gratitude. He--he has never once mentioned
your name to me since that night.”
“Not even when I came here with my troop, I believe?”
“No; yet I did not connect that fact with the other. I supposed it a
mere oversight, or that he believed the mention of your name would not
greatly interest me. Surely, Captain Wayne, you are not keeping open
this unhappy wound?”
“On my word, no; but I regret to confess it is very far from being
closed.”
“He--Major Brennan does not know, then, that you are here now with me?”
She evidently hesitated to ask this question.
“Certainly not,” in surprise at her apparent innocence. “You cannot have
supposed I had been sent here by him to talk with you?”
“I--I did not know. I do not think I realized,” she stammered, vainly
seeking for words with which to make clear her bewilderment. “I
imagined you might have come at his suggestion to see that we were amply
protected. This is all so very strange. He does not even know you are
here with us?”
“No,” I admitted reluctantly. “Perhaps I have no excuse even for being
here at all. My duty as a soldier is certainly elsewhere, but I could
not rest content until I knew you were in a position of safety. Believe
me, Mrs. Brennan, I have intended no indiscretion, but I was informed by
a soldier that you were being held here under fire. It would have been
useless for me to appeal to the Major for information, and I felt I
must know the truth. If I have erred in this I can only plead the deep
interest I have always had in your welfare.”
Her hand touched mine impulsively, and it was warm and throbbing.
“I can merely thank you with all my heart, Captain Wayne, and assure you
I both understand and appreciate your purpose. But truly I do not wish
any trouble to occur again--you will go back to your post, will you
not? You can serve me best in that way, and retain the gratitude and
admiration I have ever felt for you.”
There was a pathetic pleading in her voice, low as she spoke, impossible
to resist. It made me feel thoroughly ashamed of my impulsive,
ill-considered action.
“At once, Mrs. Brennan,” I returned earnestly. “I realize I have done
wrong in ever coming here as I have. It is my first act of disobedience
to orders in all my military life. But tell me first that I have
forfeited neither your confidence nor your friendship?”
Her warm hand closed frankly over mine, and as I bent above it her hair
softly brushed my cheek.
“You have not,” she answered, so soft and low I could barely catch the
words. “I appreciate your motive, and shall always respect and honor
you.” She paused a moment, then added quickly, as though in sudden rush
of feeling: “No friend stands higher in my esteem than you--now please
go, Captain Wayne.”
As I crept back through the darkness, passing beneath the piano into the
front room, which was filled with the choking fumes of powder, my mind
was a chaos of emotions impossible to analyze. The touch of her soft
hand was yet warm upon me, and her manner as well as her words caused
my blood to leap riotously in my veins. What did this woman mean? Was it
possible she loved me, and was fighting, even as I, to conquer a passion
that could never be realized? which had no right to exist? Surely,
young and fair as she was, she could be no vain and shallow coquette,
venturing upon flirtation for the mere excitement of it? The calm
self-possession of her nature, her marked pride and strength of
character, stamped this as impossible. Honesty and pure, true womanhood
were woven into her every word and act; that indefinable something which
all men feel and respect was about her like an atmosphere; to doubt her
for an instant was beyond my power. Yet she had made me feel I was more
to her than a mere friend. I longed to go back, to pour forth those
words I had struggled so hard not to speak, to urge the high law of
mutual love as final arbiter of our destiny--but no! I simply could not.
Honor chained me, and the depth of my respect would never permit of her
humiliation. If she had become weak, all the more reason why I should
remain strong. The very depth of love which drew me to her operated
now in restraint. God alone knows the struggle in the darkness as I
continued to move slowly away from her and toward the door.
So deep indeed was my agitation, so intense my thought, that I scarcely
realized I was creeping along barely beneath the dead line of those
bullets which constantly swept the apartment. Their crashing into the
wall was almost meaningless, and I barely noted either the dense smoke
or the fitful flashes of flame as the little garrison returned shot
for shot. It was Brennan's voice--how hateful it sounded then--which
recalled my attention.
“Mapes,” he said, with the sharp tone of wearied command, “take a crack
at that fellow over yonder by the big tree; he must be in range. You
men, I verily believe, shut your eyes when you shoot, for there hasn't a
man dropped out there in the last half hour.”
I had reached the door by this time, but paused now, determined to
venture one word of expostulation at his recklessness.
“Major Brennan,” I said, speaking sufficiently loud to be audible above
the uproar, “do you not think they will attempt to charge the house?”
“Not while we keep up this fire,” he returned coldly, evidently
recognizing my voice.
“I grant that, at least while darkness lasts. But you have just
complained that your men were doing but small execution, and is there
not danger of exhausting our stock of ammunition by such a useless
fusillade?”
“It will last until our fellows get here--that is, if your man was ever
really sent for aid, as you say.”
There was a thinly veiled sneer in the words as he spoke them, but I
curbed my temper.
“Well, in my judgment, sir,--and I tell it you because I deem it a
duty,--” I retorted plainly, “you are making a grave mistake which you
may realize when it becomes too late to rectify it. Possibly I have no
right to criticise one who is technically in command; yet I am serving
as a volunteer, and the conditions are peculiar. I not only remember the
scene witnessed by me in the lines out yonder, but also recall the fact
that we are here to fulfil a sacred duty--the defence of helpless women
from outrage. A fatal mistake upon our part would be horrible.”
“Your deep interest in the welfare of the ladies is purely chivalric, I
presume?”
“It is merely the interest a true soldier must always feel,” I
responded, determined not to be goaded into quarrel. “I have neither
wife nor sister, but I have a mother.”
“Very well, sir,”--and his tone was rough and overbearing,--“then kindly
recall your soldierly instincts to another little matter. I chance to
command here by authority of rank, and hold myself responsible for the
proper defence of this portion of the house. I believe you have already
been assigned your duties; if you will attend to them I shall be greatly
obliged, and whenever I may desire your valuable advice I shall take
pleasure in sending for you.”
I have often wondered since how I controlled myself; yet I did, biting
my lip till the blood came, a fair, reproachful face ever before my
eyes.
“I shall obey your orders,” I managed to say with calmness, so soon as
I could control my voice to speak at all, “but shall hold myself, and my
men, prepared for a call here at any moment.”
“As you please,” with an ill-suppressed sneer. “I have always found you
exceedingly anxious to be with the ladies. Indeed I have wondered if you
might not prove a modern illustration of that ancient worthy 'whose best
boast was but to wear a braid of his fair lady's hair.'”
I turned away in silence and strode back to my post, white with anger.
The dining-room remained as I had left it, and when I lay down in my
old position and peered out throught the broken blind, I could mark no
change in the appearance of our besiegers.