Ashley, in common with a number of Baynell's friends, did not recognize
a fair spirit in the inception of the investigation. The military
authorities in Roanoke City seemed rancorously keen to prove that naught
within the scope of their own duty could have averted the disasters of
the battle of the redoubt. The moral gymnastic of shunting the blame was
actively in progress. The proof of treachery within the lines,
individual failure of duty, would explain to the Department far more to
the justification of the commander of the garrison of the town the
losses both of life and material, and the jeopardy of the whole
position, than admission of the fact that the military of the post had
been outwitted, and that the enemy was entitled to salvos of applause
for a very gallant exploit. Indeed, only specific details from one
familiar with the interior of the works, to which, of course, citizens
were not admitted, could have informed Julius Roscoe of the location of
the powder magazine and enabled him to utilize in this connection his
own early familiarity with the surroundings. Thus the theory that Julius
Roscoe could not have accomplished its destruction had he not been
harbored, even helped, by the connivance of a personal friend in the
lines, and that friend, a Federal officer, was far more popular among
the military authorities than the simple fact that a Rebel had been
detected visiting his father's house by a Federal officer, a guest
therein, promptly arrested, and in the altercation the one had been hurt
and the other had escaped. Had the capture of the redoubt never occurred
later as a sequence, this transient encounter of Baynell's would hardly
have elicited a momentary notice.
The aspect of the court-martial was far from reassuring even to men of
worldly experience on broad lines. The impassive, serious, bearded
faces, the military figures in full-dress uniform, the brilliant
insignia of high rank being specially pronounced, for of course no
officer of lower degree than that of the prisoner was permitted to sit,
were ranged on each side of a long table on a low rostrum in a large
room, formerly a fraternity hall, in a commercial building now devoted
to military purposes. The spectacle might well have made the heart
quail. It seemed so expressive of the arbitrary decrees of absolute
force, oblivious of justice, untempered by mercy!
A jury as an engine of the law must needs be considered essentially
imperfect, and subject to many deteriorating influences, only available
as the best device for eliciting fact and appraising crises that the
slow development of human morals has yet presented. But to a peaceful
civilian a jury of ignorant, shock-headed rustics might seem a safe and
reasonable repository of the dearest values of life and reputation in
comparison with this warlike phalanx, combining the functions of both
judge and jury, the very atmosphere of destruction sucked in with every
respiration.
The president, a brevet brigadier-general, at the head of the table, was
of a peculiarly fierce physiognomy, that yet was stony cruel. The
judge-advocate at the foot had the look of laying down the law by main
force. He had a keenly aggressive manner. He was a captain of cavalry,
brusque, alert; he had dark side whiskers and a glancing dark eye, and
was the only man on the rostrum attired in an undress uniform. His
multifarious functions as the official prosecutor for the government,
and also adviser to the court, and yet attorney for the prisoner to a
degree,--by a theory similar to the ancient fiction of English law that
the judge is counsel for the accused,--would seem, in civilian
estimation, to render him "like Cerberus, three gentlemen at once," as
Mrs. Malaprop would say, or a military presentment of Pooh-Bah. The
nominal military accuser, acting in concert with the judge-advocate,
seated at a little distance, was conscious of sustaining an unpopular
_role_, and it had tinged his manner with disadvantage. The prisoner
appeared without any restraint, of course, but wearing no sword. The
special values of his presence, his handsome face, his blond hair and
beard that had a glitter not unlike the gold lace of his full-dress
uniform, his fine figure and highbred, reserved manner, were very marked
in his conspicuous position, occupying a chair at a small table on the
right of the judge-advocate. Baynell had a calm dignity and a look of
steady, immovable courage incongruous with his plight, arraigned on so
base a charge, and yet a sort of blighted, wounded dismay, as
unmistakable as a burn, was on his face, that might have moved even one
who had cared naught for him to resentment, to protest for his sake.
The light of the unshaded windows, broad, of ample height, and eight or
ten in number on one side of the room, brought out in fine detail every
feature of the scene within. Beneath no sign of the town appeared, as
the murmur of traffic rose softly, for the building was one of the few
three-story structures, and the opposite roofs were low. The aspect of
the far-away mountains, framed in each of the apertures, with the
intense clarity of the light and the richness of tint of the approaching
summer solstice, was like a sublimated gallery of pictures, painted with
a full brush and of kindred types. Here were the repetitious long
ranges, with the mouldings of the foot-hills at the base, and again a
single great dome, amongst its mysterious shimmering clouds, filled the
canvas. Now in the background were crowded all the varying mountain
forms, while a glittering vacant reach of the Tennessee River stretched
out into the distance. And again a bridge crossed the currents, light
and airy in effect, seeming to spring elastically from its piers, in the
strong curves of the suspended arches, while a sail-boat, with its head
tucked down shyly as the breeze essayed to chuck it under the chin,
passed through and out of sight. Another window showed the wind in a
bluffer mood, wrestling with the storm clouds; showed, too, that rain
was falling in a different county, and the splendors of the iris hung
over far green valleys that gleamed prismatically with a secondary
reflection.
The room was crowded with spectators, both military and civilian,
finding seats on the benches which were formerly used in the fraternity
gatherings and which were still in place. The case had attracted much
public attention. There were few denizens of the town who had not had
individual experiences of interest pending the storming of the fort, and
this fact invested additional details with peculiar zest and whetted the
edge of curiosity as to the inception of the plan and the means by which
Julius Roscoe's exploit had become practicable. The effect of the
imposing character of the court was manifested in the perfect decorum
observed by the general public. There was scarcely a stir during the
opening of the proceedings. The order convening the court was read to
the accused, and he was offered his right to challenge any member of
the court-martial for bias or other incompetency. Baynell declined to
avail himself of this privilege. There ensued a moment of silence. Then,
with a metallic clangor, for every member wore his sword, the court
rose, and, all standing, a glittering array, the oath was administered
to each of the thirteen by the judge-advocate. Afterward the president
of the court, of course the ranking officer present, himself
administered the oath to the judge-advocate, and the prosecution opened.
The military accuser was the first witness sworn and interrogated, but
the prosecution had much other testimony tending to show that the
prisoner had been living in great amity with persons notoriously of
sentiments antagonistic to the Union cause, as exemplified by his long
stay in Judge Roscoe's house; that he was in correspondence and even in
intimate association with a Rebel in hiding under the same roof; that
either with treacherous intent, or for personal reasons, he had
leniently permitted this enemy in arms to lie _perdu_ within the lines
and subsequently to escape with such information as had resulted in
great loss of men, materials, and money to the Federal government; that
he had been apprised, by the sentinel at the door, of the approach of a
body of troops the night before the attack on the redoubt took place,
and that he nefariously or negligently declined to investigate the
incident. Most of this evidence, however, was circumstantial.
The defence met it strenuously at every point. The intimacy between
Judge Roscoe and the Baynell family was shown to be of a far earlier
date, and the friendship utterly devoid of any connection with political
interests; in this relation the accused had in every instance
subordinated his personal feeling to his military duty, even going so
far as to cause the property of his host's niece to be seized for
military service,--the impressment of the horse, which Colonel Ashley
testified he had at that time considered an unwarrantable bit of
official tyranny, some individuals being allowed to retain their horses
through the interposition of army officers among their friends.
Colonel Ashley testified further that the prisoner was such a stickler
on trifles, as to seek to check him, a person of responsibility and
discretion, an experienced officer, in expressing some casual
speculations in the presence of Judge Roscoe concerning troops on an
incoming train.
The accused admitted that he had not investigated the sound of marching
troops in the thrice-guarded lines of the encampment, but urged it was
no part of his duty and impracticable. Small detachments were coming and
going at all hours of the night. If an officer of the guard, going out
with the relief or a patrol, had seen fit to march across Judge Roscoe's
grove, it was no concern of his nor of the sentinel's. He had no
divination of the proximity of the enemy.
Perhaps the ardor of the witnesses, called in Captain Baynell's behalf,
when the prosecution had rested at length, made an impression
unfavorable to the idea of impartiality. More than one on
cross-examination was constrained to acknowledge that he was swayed by
the sense of the prisoner's hitherto unimpugnable record, and his high
standing as a soldier. No such admission could be wrung from Judge
Roscoe, skilled in all the details of the effect of testimony. His plain
asseverations that his son had come to his house, not knowing that a
Federal officer was a temporary inmate, the account of the simple
measures taken to defeat the guest's observation or detection of the
young Rebel's propinquity, the reasonableness of his quietly awaiting an
opportunity to run the pickets when a chance meeting resulted in
discovery and a collision--all went far to establish the fact that the
presence of Julius Roscoe was but one of those stolen visits home in
which the adventurous Southern soldiers delighted and of which Captain
Baynell had no sort of knowledge till the moment of their encounter,
when Julius rushed forth to the gaze of all the camp.
This was the point of difficulty with the prosecution, the point of
danger with the defence,--the adequacy of the proof as to the prisoner's
knowledge of the presence of the Rebel in hiding, harbored in the house.
For this the prosecution had the apparition of the Confederate officer,
covered with blood and later identified as Julius Roscoe, and the
condition of Baynell's wound, which the surgeon swore was a "facer,"
delivered by an expert boxer. Evidently this came from an altercation,
in which both had forborne the use of weapons, thus suggesting some
collision of interests, as between personal associates or former friends
rather than a hand-to-hand conflict of armed enemies.
On this vital point, to form the conclusions of military men, Baynell
could command no testimony save that of the Roscoe household,--the most
important witness of course being the judge himself, who had devised and
controlled all the methods to keep the Federal officer unsuspicious and
tranquil, and to maintain the lurking Rebel in security. The anxiety of
the authorities to fix the responsibility for the disclosure of the
military information concerning the interior of the works, which only
one familiar with the location of the magazine could have given, had
induced them to ignore Judge Roscoe's shelter of their enemy, thus
avoiding the entanglement of a slighter matter with the paramount
consideration under investigation. While the fact that his feelings as a
father must needs have coerced Judge Roscoe into harboring and
protecting his son and requiring his servant to minister to his wants,
still the recital of the concealment of his presence affronted the
sentiment of the court-martial, even though Judge Roscoe's part was
obviously restricted to the sojourn of the Confederate officer in his
house, for he had no knowledge of the details of the escape and
subsequent adventures.
The course of the proceedings of such a body was not competent to afford
any very marked relaxations in the line of comedy relief. But certainly
old Ephraim, when summoned to the stand, must have been in any other
presence a mark of irresistible derision, not unkind, to be sure, and
devoid of bitterness.
Keenly conscious that he had been discovered in details which to "Marse
Soldier" were a stumbling-block and an offence, and that his own
prestige for political loyalty was shattered,--for he doubted if it were
possible to so present the contradiction of his conviction of his
interest and yet his adherence to old custom and fidelity in such a
guise that the brevet brigadier would do aught but snort at it,--he
came, bowing repeatedly, cringing almost to the earth, his hat in his
hand, his worn face seamed in a thousand new wrinkles, and looking
nearly eighty years of age. The formidable embodiment of military
justice fixed him with a stern comprehensive gaze, and the brigadier,
who had no realization of the martial terrors of his own appearance,
sought to reassure him by saying in his deep bluff voice, "Come forward,
Uncle Ephraim, come forward." The old negro started violently, then
bowed once more in humble deprecation. Suddenly he perceived Baynell.
In his relief to recognize the face of a friend he forgot the purport of
the assemblage, and broke out with a high senile chirp.
"_You_ here, Cap'n! Well, sah! I is p'intedly s'prised." Then
recollecting the situation, he was covered with confusion, especially as
Baynell remained immovable and unresponsive, and once more old Ephraim
bowed to the earth.
Not a little doubt had been felt by the court when deliberating upon the
admissibility of the testimony of the old negro. It was contrary to the
civil law of the state and contravened also the theory of the unbounded
influence over the slave which the master exerts. In view of the pending
abolition of slavery, both considerations might be considered abrogated,
and since this testimony was of great importance to the prosecution as
well as to the defence, bearing directly on the main point at issue,--as
a freedman he was duly sworn. The members of the court-martial had ample
opportunity to test the degree of patience with which they had been
severally endowed as the old darkey was engineered through the
preliminary statements; inducted into the witness-chair on the left hand
of the judge-advocate, his hat inverted at his feet, with his red
bandanna handkerchief filling its crown; induced to give over his
acquiescent iteration, "Yes, sah! Yes, sah! jes' ez _you_ say!"
regardless of the significance of the question; and at last fairly
launched on the rendering of his testimony. The prosecution, however,
soon thought he was no such fool as he seemed, for the details of the
earlier sojourn of Julius had a simplicity that was coercive of
credence. The old servant stated, as if it were a matter of prime
importance, that he had to feed him in the salad-bowl. He "das'ent fetch
Marse Julius a plate 'kase de widder 'oman, dat's Miss Leonora, mought
miss it. But _he_ didn't keer, little Julius didn't,"--then to explain
the familiarity of the address he stated that "Julius de youngest ob
Marster's chillen--de Baby-chile." Old Ephraim repeated this expression
often, thinking it mitigated the fall from political grace which he
himself had suffered, because of the leniency which must be shown to a
"Baby-chile." And now and then, at first, the court-martial, though far
from lacking in brainy endowment and keen perception, were at sea to
understand that the "Baby-chile" would have been allowed to smoke a
_see_gar,--he being "plumb desperate" for tobacco,--except so anxious
was Judge Roscoe to avoid attracting the suspicion of Captain Baynell,
who would "have tuk little Julius in quick as a dog snappin' at a fly!
Yes--sah--yes--Cap'n," with a deprecatory side glance at Baynell. "De
Baby-chile couldn't even dare to smoke, fur fear de Cap'n mought smell
it from out de garret. De Baby-chile wanted a _see_gar so bad he sont
his Pa forty messages a day. But his Pa didn't allow him ter light
one--not one; he jes' gnawed the e-end."
It required, too, some mental readjustment to recognize the "Baby-chile"
in the young Samson, who had almost carried off the gates of the town
itself, the key of the whole department, on his stalwart back. This
phrase was even more frequently repeated as Uncle Ephraim entered upon
the details of Julius's escape and his attack on Baynell--it seemed to
mitigate the intensity with which he played at the game of war to speak
of it as the freaks of a "Baby-chile."
The witness could produce no replies to the question, and indeed he had
no recollection, as to how Julius Roscoe became possessed of the facts
concerning the works, for old Ephraim did not realize that he himself
had afforded this information--acquired in aimlessly tagging after the
detail sent for ammunition, the negroes coming and going with scant
restriction in the camps of their liberators. But very careful was he to
let fall no word of the citizen's dress he had conveyed to the
"Baby-chile" in the grotto, under cover of night.
"Bress Gawd!" he said to himself, "it's de Cap'n on trial--_not me_!"
He detailed with great candor the lies he had told Captain Baynell,
when, emerging from his long insensibility, he had asked about the Rebel
officer. "It was a dream," the witness had told "Cap'n." In Captain
Baynell's earlier illness he had often been delirious, and it had amused
him when he recovered to hear the quaint things he had said; sometimes
"Cap'n" himself described to Judge Roscoe or to the surgeon the queer
sights he had seen, the results of the morphine administered. So in this
instance he had hardly seemed surprised, but had let it pass like the
rest.
Uncle Ephraim did not vary these statements in any degree, not even
under the ordeal of cross-examination. Indeed, he stood this remarkably
well and left the impression he had made unimpaired. But when he was
told that he might stand aside, and it entered into his comprehension
that the phrase meant that he might leave the room, he fairly chirped
with glee and obvious relief.
"Thankee, Marse Gen'al!" he said to the youngest member of the court, a
captain, to whom he had persisted in addressing most of his replies, and
had continuously promoted to the rank of general, as if this high
station obviously best accorded with the young officer's deserts.
Old Ephraim scuttled off to the door, stumbling and hirpling in his
haste and agitation, and it had not closed on him, when his "Bress de
Lawd! he done delivered me f'om dem dat would have devoured me!"
resounded through the room.
There was a laugh outside--somebody in the corridor opined that the
court-martial wanted no such tough old morsel, but not a smile touched
the serious faces on each side of the table, and the next witness was
summoned.
This was Mrs. Gwynn. She produced an effect of sober elegance in her
dress of gray barege, wearing a simple hat of lacelike straw of the same
tint, with velvet knots of a darker gray, on her beautiful golden-brown
hair. The court-martial, guaranteed to have no heart, had, as far as
perceptible impression was concerned, no eyes. They looked stolidly at
her as, with a swift and adaptive intelligence, she complied with the
formalities, and her testimony was under way.
So youthful, so girlish and fair of face, so sylphlike in form was she,
that her appearance was of far more significance in their estimation
than their apparent lack of appreciation might betoken. More than one
who had begun to incline to the views of the prosecution thought that he
beheld here the influence which had fostered treason and brought a fine
officer to a forgetfulness of his oath, a disregard of his duty, and the
destruction of every value of life and every consolation of death.
Her manner, however, was not that of a siren. All the incongruities of
her aspect were specially pronounced as she sat in the clear light of
the window and looked steadfastly at each querist in turn, so soberly,
so earnestly, with so little consciousness of her beauty, that it seemed
in something to lack, as if a more definite aplomb and intention of
display could enhance the fact.
Apparently it was a conclusive testimony that she was giving, for it was
presently developed that she did not know that Julius Roscoe was in the
house; that she herself had suggested to Captain Baynell to go in search
of a book up the stairs to his hiding-place, from which there was no
other mode of egress; that in less than two minutes she heard Captain
Baynell's loud exclamations of surprise, and the words in his voice,
very quick and decisive--"You are my prisoner!" twice repeated. She had
rushed to the door of the hall to hear a crash as of a fall, and she saw
the balustrade of the staircase, which was the same structure throughout
the three stories, shaking, as Julius Roscoe, covered with blood, dashed
by her and out into the balcony. She knew that Baynell was delirious
subsequently, and that he was kept in ignorance as to what had
occasioned his fall.
There was a degree of discomfiture on the part of the prosecution. It
was not that the judge-advocate was specially bloody-minded or
vindictive. He had a part to play, and it behooved him to play it well.
It would seem that if the prosecution broke down on so obvious and
simple a case, which had been the nucleus of so much disaster, blame
might attach to him, by the mere accident of his position. These
reflections rendered him ingenious, and with the license of
cross-examination he began with personalities.
"You have stated that you are a widow?"
"Yes. I am the widow of Rufus Allerton Gwynn."
"You do not wear widow's weeds?"
"No. I have laid them aside."
"In contemplation of matrimony?"
"No."
"Is not the accused your accepted suitor?"
"No."
Baynell was looking down at a paper in his hand. His eyelids flickered,
then he looked up steadily, with a face of quiet attention.
A member of the court preferred the demand:--
"Was he ever a suitor for your hand?"
"Yes." Her face had flushed, but she kept her eyes steadily fixed on the
questioner.
The president of the court cleared his throat as if minded to speak.
Then obviously with the view of avoiding misunderstandings as to dates
he formulated the query: "Was this recent? May I ask _when_ you declined
his proposal?"
"I am not certain of the date," she replied. "It was--let me think--it
was the evening of a day when the neighborhood sewing-circle met at my
uncle's house. I remember, now--it was the sixth of May."
"Did Captain Baynell attend the meeting of the sewing-circle?"--the
judge-advocate permitted himself an edge of satire.
"He was present, and Colonel Ashley, and Lieutenant Seymour."
"Oh!" said the judge-advocate, at a loss.
At a loss and doubtful, but encouraged. To his mind she offered the key
to the situation. Keenly susceptible to feminine influence himself, he
fancied he could divine its effect on another man. He proceeded warily,
reducing his question to writing, while on various faces ranged about
the table appeared a shade of doubt and even reprobation of the tone he
was taking.
"You have laid aside the insignia of mourning--yet you do not
contemplate matrimony. You are very young."
"I am twenty-three--as I have already stated."
"You may live a long time. You may live to grow old. You propose to live
alone the remainder of your days. Did you tell Captain Baynell that?"
"In effect, yes."
Her face had grown crimson, then paled, then the color came again in
patches. But her voice did not falter, and she looked at her
interlocutor with an admirable steadiness. The president again cleared
his throat as if about to speak. The shade of disapprobation deepened on
the listening faces.
The judge-advocate leaned forward, wrote swiftly, then read in a
tantalizing tone, as of one who has a clincher in reserve:--
"Now was not that a mere feminine subterfuge? You know you could hardly
be _sure_ that you will never marry again--at your age."
Once more the president cleared his throat, but he spoke this time.
"Do you desire to push this line of investigation farther?" he said,
objection eloquent in his deep, full voice.
"One moment, sir." The judge-advocate had been feeling his way very
cautiously, but he was flustered by the interruption, and he was
conscious that he put his next question less adroitly than he had
intended.
"Why are you so sure, if I may ask?"
There was a tense silence. She said to herself that this was no time or
place for finical delicacy. A man's life, his honor, all he held dear,
were in jeopardy, and it had fallen to her to say words that must needs
affect the result. She answered steadily. "My reply to Captain Baynell
was not actuated by any objections to him. I know nothing of him but
what is greatly to his credit." She hesitated for a moment. She had
grown very white, and her eyes glittered, but her voice was still firm
as she went on:----
"There is no reason why I should not speak freely under these
circumstances, for every one knows--every one who is cognizant of our
family affairs--that my married life was extremely wretched. I was very
unhappy, and I told Captain Baynell that I would never marry again."
Dead silence reigned for a moment. They had all heard the story of her
hard fate. The discussion as to whether a chair had been merely broken
over her head, or she had been dragged about her home one woful midnight
by the masses of her beautiful hair, was insistently suggested as the
sunlight lay athwart it now, and the breeze moved its tendrils
caressingly. The eyes of the court-martial looked at the judge-advocate
with fiery reproach, and the heart of the court-martial beat for her for
the moment with chivalric partisanship.
For the first time Baynell seemed to lose his composure. His face was
scarlet, his hands trembled. He was biting his under lip violently in an
effort at self-control; he was experiencing an agony of sympathy and
regret that this should be forced upon her, of helpless fury that he
could be of no avail.
Still once more the president cleared his throat, this time
peremptorily. The judge-advocate, considerably out of countenance,
hastily forestalled him, that he might justify his course by bringing
out the point he desired to elicit, reading his question aloud for its
submission to the court, though her last reply had rendered his clincher
of little force.
"Did you say to Captain Baynell that you have no intention of marrying
again merely as a subterfuge--to soften the blow, because you expect to
marry Lieutenant Roscoe as soon as the war is over?"
His suspicion that Baynell had been accessory to the concealment of
young Roscoe so long as he did not fear him as a rival was evident.
Baynell turned suddenly and stared with startled eyes in which an amazed
dismay contended with futile anger that this,--such a motive--such a
course of action, could be attributed to him.
She replied only to the obvious question, evidently not realizing the
implication. The tension was over; her color had returned; her voice was
casual.
"No. I have no thought of marrying Lieutenant Roscoe."
"Has he asked you to marry him?"
"Long ago,--when he was a mere boy."
"And again since your widowhood?"
"No."
"You have seen him since?"
"Only that morning when he rushed past me in the hall," she replied, not
apprehending the trend of his questions.
"Captain Baynell must have had some reason to think you would marry him,
or he would not have asked you. You rejected him one evening. The next
morning he arrested Lieutenant Roscoe, who had been in hiding in the
house,--was there some understanding between you and Captain
Baynell,--had he earlier forborne this arrest in the expectation of your
consent, and was the arrest made in revenge on a rival whom he fancied a
successful suitor?"
She looked at the judge-advocate with a horrified amazement eloquent on
her face.
"No! No! Oh," she cried in a poignant voice, "if you knew Captain
Baynell, you could not, you would not, advance such implications against
him,--who is the very soul of honor."
The judge-advocate was again for an instant out of countenance.
"You thought so little of him yourself as to reject his addresses," he
said by way of recovering himself.
She was absorbed in the importance of the crisis. She did not realize
the effect of her words until after she had uttered them.
"I did not appreciate his character then," she said simply.
Once more there was an interval of tense and significant silence.
Baynell, suddenly pale to the lips, lifted startled eyes as if he sought
to assure himself that he had heard aright. Then he bent his gaze on the
paper in his hand.
Mrs. Gwynn, tremulous with excitement, appreciated a moment later the
inadvertent and personal admission, and a burning flush sprang into her
cheeks. The judge-advocate took instant advantage of her loss of poise.
"I don't know what you mean by that--that you would not reject him
again? Will you explain?" he read his question with a twinkling eye that
nettled and harassed her.
A member of the court-martial objected to the interrogation as
"frivolous and unnecessary," and therefore it was not addressed to the
witness. A pause ensued.
The brevet brigadier cleared his throat.
"Have you concluded this line of investigation?" he said to the
judge-advocate, for the prosecution was obviously breaking down.
"I believe we are about through," said the judge-advocate, vacuously,
looking at a list in his hand, "that is"--to the accused--"if you have
no questions to put in reexamination." And as Mrs. Gwynn was permitted
to depart from the room, he still busied himself with his list. "Three
names, yet. These are the children, sir."
Every member of the household of Judge Roscoe was summoned as a witness
for the defence, to seek to establish Baynell's innocence in these
difficult circumstances, even the little girls, and indeed otherwise the
prosecution would have subpoenaed them on the theory that if there were
any treachery, the children had not the artifice to conceal it. So far
this testimony was unequivocal. Judge Roscoe had sworn to the simple
facts and the measures taken to avoid the notice of the Federal officer.
Uncle Ephraim's testimony, save for the withheld episode of the grotto,
the exact truth, was corroborative, but suffered somewhat from his
reputation for wearing two faces, his sobriquet of "Janus" being adduced
by the prosecution. Mrs. Gwynn had affirmed that she herself did not
know or suspect the presence of Julius in the house, so completely was
he held _perdu_. The agitated little twins, each examined as to her
knowledge of the obligations of an oath and sworn, separately testified
in curiously clipped, suppressed voices that they knew nothing, heard
nothing, saw nothing of Julius Roscoe in the house.
In the face of this unanimity it seemed impossible to prove aught save
that in one of those hazardous visits home, so dear to the rash young
Southern soldiers, the father had taken successful precautions to defeat
suspicion; and the Confederate officer had shown great adroitness in
carrying out the plan of his campaign which his observations inside the
lines had suggested.
On the last day of the trial Captain Baynell was beginning to breathe
more freely, all the testimony having been taken except the necessarily
formal questioning of the dumb child. As she was sworn and interrogated,
one of the other children, sworn anew for the purpose, acted as her
interpreter, being more accustomed than the elders to the use of the
manual alphabet. The court-room was interested in the quaint situation.
The aspect of the two little children, in their white summer attire, in
this incongruous environment, with their tiny hands lifted in signalling
to each other, their eyes shining with excitement, touched the
spectators to smiles and a stir of pleasant sympathy. Now and then
Geraldine's silvery treble faltered while repeating the question, to
demonstrate her comprehension of it, and she desisted from her task to
gaze in blue-eyed wonder over her shoulder at the crowd. The deaf-mute
was passed over cursorily by the defence, only summoned in fact that no
one of the household might be omitted or seem feared. Suddenly one of
the members of the court asked a question in cross-examination. In civil
life this officer, a colonel of volunteers, had been an aurist of some
note and the physician in attendance in a deaf-and-dumb asylum. He was a
portly, robust man, whose prematurely gray hair and mustache were at
variance with his florid complexion and his bright, still youthful, dark
eyes. He had a manner peculiarly composed, bland, yet commanding. He
leaned forward abruptly on the table; with an intent, questioning gaze
he caught the child's eyes as she stood lounging against the tall
witness-chair. Then as he lifted his hands it was obvious that he was
far more expert in the manual alphabet than Geraldine. In three minutes
it was evident to the assembled members of the court-martial on each
side of the long table, the president at its head, the judge-advocate at
its foot, that the line of communication was as perfect as if both
spoke. Delighted to meet a stranger who could converse fluently with
her, the child's blue eyes glittered, her cheek flushed; she was
continually laughing and tossing back the curls of her rich chestnut
hair, as if she wished to be free of its weight while she gave every
capacity to this matter. And yet in her youth, her innocence, her
inexperience, she knew naught of the ultimate significance of the
detail.
It was an evidence of the degree to which she was isolated by her
infirmity, how slight was her participation in the subtler interests of
the life about her, that she had no remote conception of the intents and
results of the investigation. Even her curiosity was manacled--it
stretched no grasp for the fact. She did not question. She did not dream
that it concerned Captain Baynell. She had no idea that trouble had
fallen upon him. Tears to her expressed woe, or a visage of sadness, or
the environment of poverty or physical hurt--but this bright room, with
its crowd of intent spectators; this splendid array of uniformed men of
an august aspect; her own friend, Captain Baynell, present, himself in
full regimentals, calm, composed, quiet, as was his wont, looking over a
paper in his hand--how was the restricted creature to imagine that this
was the arena of a life-and-death conflict.
"Yes!" the little waxen-white fingers flashed forth. "Yes, indeed, she
had known that Soldier-Boy was in the house. That was Julius!"
She gave the military salute with her accustomed grace and spirit,
lifting her hand to the brim of her hat, and looked laughing along the
line of stern, bearded faces and military figures on either side of the
long table.
The other "ladies" did not know that Soldier-Boy was there, though they
saw him, and she saw him, too! It was in the library, and it was just
about dusk. They were surprised, and came and told the family that they
had seen a ghost. They knew no better! They were young and they were
little. They were only six, the twins, and she was eight; a great girl
indeed!
Once more she tossed back her hair, and, with her eyes intent from under
the wide Leghorn brim of her hat, bedecked with bows of a broad white
ribbon with fluffy fringed edges, she watched his white military
gauntlets, uplifted as he asked the next question on his slow fingers.
How her own swiftly flickered!
Yes, indeed, she had told the family better. It was no ghost, but only
Soldier-Boy! She had told Captain Baynell. She wanted him to see
Soldier-Boy. He was beautiful--the most beautiful member of the family!
Oh, yes, Baynell knew he was in the house. She had told him by her sign.
When she had first shown him Soldier-Boy's fine portrait, they had told
him what she meant.
No! Captain Baynell had not forgotten! For when she said it was no
ghost, but Soldier-Boy, Cousin Leonora cried out, "Oh, she means Julius;
that is her sign for him!" Cousin Leonora did not use the manual
alphabet; she read the motion of her lips. None of them used the
alphabet except a little bit; Soldier-Boy the best of all.
Throughout there was a continual ripple of excitement among the members
and several heads were dubiously shaken. More than once Baynell's
counsel sought to interpose an objection,--mindful of the preposterous
restrictions of his position, swiftly writing his views, transmitted, as
if he himself were dumb, through the prisoner to the judge-advocate and
by him to the court. The testimony of the witness could not be legally
taken this way, he insisted, merely by the repetition of what she had
said, by a member of the court-martial for the benefit of the rest.
The peculiar petulance of those who lack a sense was manifested in the
acrimony which shone in the child's eyes as she perceived that he sought
to restrict and repress her statement of her views. When he ventured
himself to ask her a question, having some knowledge of the manual
alphabet, she merely gazed at his awkward gesticulations with an
expression of polite tolerance, making no attempt to answer, then cast
up her eyes, as who should say, "Saw ever anybody the like of that!" and
catching the intent gaze of the brigadier, she burst into a sly
coquettish ripple of laughter that had all the effect of a roguish
aside. Then, turning to the ex-surgeon, her fingers flickered forth the
hope that he would come and see her and talk. When the war was over, she
was going back to school where she had learned the manual
alphabet,--there, although dumb, they talked much.
The mention of the word "school" suggested an idea which obviated the
difficulty as to how this extraordinary testimony could be put into such
shape as to render it available, impervious to cavil, strictly in
accordance with precedent in the case of witnesses who are "mute by the
visitation of God." The cross-examiner asked her if she could write. How
she tossed her head in pride and scorn of the question! Write--of course
she could write. Cousin Leonora had taught her.
When she was placed in a chair, and mounted on a great book beside the
judge-advocate--looking like a learned mushroom under her big white hat,
her white flounced skirts fluttering out, her long white hose and
slippered feet dangling--he wrote the questions and accommodated her
with a blotting-pad and pen, and it may be doubted if ever hitherto a
small bunch of fabric and millinery contained so much vainglory. In
truth the triumph atoned for many a soundless day--to note the surprise
on his solemn visage, between his Burnside whiskers, as she glanced
covertly up into his face, watching the effect of her first answer, five
or six lines of clear, round handwriting, sensibly expressed, and
perfectly spelled. She wrote much the more legibly of the two, and once
there occurred a break when one of the members of the court asked a
question in writing, and she was constrained to put one hand before her
face to laugh gleefully, for one of his capital letters was so bad--she
was great on capitals--that she must needs ask what was meant by it.
Baynell, in reexamination, himself wrote to ask what he had said when he
was told that the ghost in the library was Julius Roscoe.
"Nothing," she wrote in answer, all unaware how she was destroying him.
"Nothing at all. You just looked at me and then looked at Cousin Leonora.
But Grandpa said, 'Oh, fie! oh, fie!' all the time."
Thus the extraordinary testimony was taken. The paper, with her answers
in her round childish characters and flourishing capitals, all as plain
as print and exhibiting a thorough comprehension of what she was asked,
was handed to each of the members of the court-martial, here and there
eliciting a murmur of surprise at her proficiency. The prosecution, that
had practically broken down, now had the point of the sword at the
throat of the defence.
There was naught further necessary but to confront the earlier witnesses
with this episode. Mrs. Gwynn, recalled, stared in amazement for a
moment as a question was put as to the significant event of the
discovery of a ghost in the library, one afternoon. Then as the
reminiscence grew clear to her mind, she rehearsed the circumstance,
stating in great confusion that she had disregarded it at the time, and
had forgotten it since.
So unimportant, was it?
She had thought it merely some folly of the children's; they were always
taking silly little frights. She did remember that she had told Captain
Baynell once before that the military salute was the child's sign for
Julius Roscoe, and that she had repeated this information then.
No--Captain Baynell made no search in the library where the supposed
ghost was seen,--no,--nor elsewhere.
When Mrs. Gwynn, under the stress of these revelations, broke down and
burst into tears, the eyes of the members of the court-martial intently
regarding her were unsympathetic eyes, despite her beauty and
charm,--the more unsympathetic because Judge Roscoe had also remembered
these circumstances, stating, however, that they had not alarmed him,
for Captain Baynell evidently did not understand.
"Is his knowledge of English, then, so limited?" he was ironically
asked.
Old Ephraim, too, was able to recollect the fact of the child's
disclosure of the presence of Julius Roscoe in the house to Captain
Baynell,--declaring, though, that he himself had hindered its
comprehension by upsetting the coffee urn full of scalding coffee, which
he had just brought to the table where the group were sitting, thus
effecting a diversion of interest.
All the witnesses were dismissed at last, and the final formal defence
was presented in writing. The room was cleared and the judge-advocate
read aloud to the members of the court the proceedings from the
beginning. Laboriously, earnestly, impartially, they bent their minds to
weigh all the details, and then for a time they sat in secluded
deliberation--a long time, despite the fact that the conclusions of the
majority admitted of no doubt. Several of the members revolted against
the inevitable result, argued with vehemence, recapitulated all in
Baynell's favor with the fervor of eager partisans, and at last
protested with a passion of despair against the decision, for the
finding was adverse and the unanimity of two-thirds of the votes
rendered the penalty death.
The sentence was of course kept secret until it should be approved and
formally promulgated by authority. But the public had readily divined
the result and anticipated naught from the revision of the proceedings.
Suspense is itself a species of calamity. It has all the poignant
acuteness of hope without the buoyancy of a sustained expectation, and
all the anguish of despair without its sense of conclusiveness and the
surcease of striving. Pending the review of the action of the
court-martial Baynell discovered the wondrous scope of human suffering
disassociated from physical pain. He had seriously thought he might die
of his wounded pride, thus touched in honor, in patriotism, in life
itself, and therefore he was amazed by the degree of solace he
experienced in the sight of a woman's tears shed for his sake. For to
Leonora Gwynn he seemed a persecuted martyr, with all a soldier's valor
and a saint's impeccability. No one could know better than she the
falsity of the charges against him, and in her resentment against the
unhappy chances and the military law that had overwhelmed him, and her
absolute despair for his fate, he enlisted all her heart. Those high and
noble qualities which he possessed and which she revered were elicited
in the extremity of his mortal peril. His exacting conscientiousness;
his steadfast courage on the brink of despair; his absolute truth; his
constancy in adversity; his strict sense of justice which would not
suffer him to blame his friends whose concealments had wrought his ruin,
nor his enemies who seemed indeed rancorously zealous in aspersing him
that they might exculpate themselves at his risk; his lofty sense of
honor which he valued more than life itself,--all showed in genuine
proportions in the bleak unidealizing light which an actual vital crisis
brings to bear on the incidents of personal character.
She had even a more tender sympathy for his simpler traits, the filial
friendship which he still manifested for Judge Roscoe, his affectionate
remembrance of the little children of the household, the blended pride
and delicacy with which he restrained all expression of the feeling he
entertained toward her, that might seem to seek to utilize and magnify
her unguarded admissions on the witness-stand,--influenced, as he
feared, by her anxiety lest her rejection of his suit should militate to
his disadvantage in the estimation of the court. In truth, however,
there was scant need of his reserve on this point, for she made no
disguise of her sentiment toward him. It became obvious, not only to
him, but to all with whom she spoke. Indeed, she would have married him
then, that she might be near him, that she might share his calamities,
even while his disgrace, his everlasting contumely, seemed already
accomplished, and he had scarcely a chance for life itself. And yet,
hardly less than he, she valued those finer vibrations of chivalric
ethics to which his every fibre thrilled. "I know that you are the very
soul of honor," she said to him, "and that this certain assurance ought
to be sufficient to nullify the stings of calumny,--but I had rather
that you had died long ago, that I had never seen you, that I were dead
myself, than that your record as a soldier, your probity as a man, the
truth, the eternal truth, should even be questioned."
Judge Roscoe, too, was infinitely dismayed by this strange blunder of
circumstance, and flinched under the sense of responsibility, of a
breach of hospitality, albeit unintentional, that his guest should incur
so desperate a disaster by reason of a sojourn under his roof. Baynell
was constrained to comfort them both, but in the hope to which he
magnanimously affected to appeal he had scant confidence indeed.
Even amidst the turmoil of his emotions and the crisis of his personal
jeopardy he did not forget that the hand that hurled the bolts of doom
had been innocent of cruel intent. "Never let her know," he warned Judge
Roscoe, again and again. For although the testimony of the deaf-mute
must needs have been elicited, she would be grieved to learn that she
had wrought all these woes. Though literally the truth, it had the
deceptive functions of a lie. It traduced him. It convicted him, the
faithful soldier, of treachery. It hurled him down from his honorable
esteem, and he seemed the basest of the base, traitor to his comrades,
false to his oath, renegade to his cause, recreant to every sanction
that can control a gentleman, and stained with blood-guiltiness for
every life that was sacrificed in the skirmish by reason of his secret
colloguing with the enemy.
Nevertheless, he tenderly considered how frightful a shock she would
experience should she realize that it was she who had set this hideous
monster of falsehood grimly a-stalk as fact. "But never let her know!"
he insisted with an unselfish thoughtfulness that endeared him the more
to those who already loved him. In that silent life of hers, so much
apart, he would fain that not even a vague echo of reproach should
sound. In those mute thoughts, which none might divine, he would not
evoke a suggestion of regret. One could hardly forecast the effect, he
urged. A sorrow like this might prove beyond the reach of reason, of
remonstrance, of consolation. She loved him, the silent, little thing!
and he loved her. Never, never, let her know.
And thus, although in the storm centre all else was changed, swept with
sudden gusts of tempestuous grief, now and again reverberating with
strange echoes of tumults beyond, all a-tremor with terror and frightful
presage, calm still prevailed in her restricted little life. But to
maintain this placidity was not without its special difficulties. More
than once her grandfather's deep depression caught her intelligent
attention, and she would pause to gaze wistfully, helplessly, sadly,
upon him. Upon discovering Leonora in tears one day she flung herself on
her knees beside her cousin, and kissing her hands wept and sobbed
bitterly in sympathy with she knew not what. Sometimes she was moved to
ask the dreary little twins if aught were amiss, and when they shook
their heads in negation, she promptly signed that she did not believe
them. Once she came perilously near the solution of the mystery that
baffled her. Missing the visits of Baynell, who of course was still in
arrest, she asked the twins if he were ill, and when they hysterically
protested that he was well, a shadow of aghast apprehension hovered
over her face, and she solemnly queried if he were dead.
The phrase, "Never let her know," was like a dying wish, as sacred, as
imperative, and Judge Roscoe hastily interfered to assure her that
Baynell was indeed alive and well, and affected to rebuke the twins,
saying that they were getting so dull and slow in the manual alphabet
that they could scarcely answer a simple question of their sister's, and
set them to spelling on their fingers under Lucille's instruction the
first stanza of "The boy stood on the burning deck."
Thus the continued calm of her life was akin to the quiet languors of
the sweet summer evening so mutely reddening in the west, so softly
changing to the azure and silver of twilight, so splendid in the vast
diffusive radiance of the soundless moon. All the growths were as
speechless. The rose was full of the voiceless dew. What need of words
when the magnolia buds burst into bloom without a rustle. With a placid
heart she watched the echoless march of the constellations. The daily
brightening of the sumptuous season, the vivid presentment of the great
pageant of the distant mountains glowed noiselessly. Amidst this
encompassing hush, in suave content she thought out her inconceivable,
unexpressed thoughts, with a smile in her eyes and the seal of eternal
silence on her lips. For his behest was a sacred charge,--and she did
not know,--she never knew!
The evidence on which Baynell had been convicted and which had seemed so
conclusive to the general court-martial, present during the testimony of
the deaf-mute and its subsequent unwilling confirmation by the other
witnesses for the defence, was not so decisive on a calm revision of the
papers. The doubt remained as to how much he could be presumed to
understand from the peculiar methods of the dumb child's disclosure and
the scattered haphazard comments of the household. The circumstances
were deemed by the reviewing authorities extra hazardous, difficult, and
peculiar. The matter hung for a time in abeyance, but at last the court
was ordered to reconvene for the rectification of certain irregularities
in its proceedings, and for the reconsideration of its action in this
case.
The interval of time which had elapsed, with its proclivity to annul the
effects of surprise and the first convincing force of a definite and
irrefutable testimony, had served to foster doubt, not of the fact
itself, but as to Baynell's comprehension of it. Perhaps the incredulity
obviously entertained in high quarters rendered certain members of the
court-martial less sure of the justifiability of their own conclusions.
The maturer deliberation of the body accomplished the amendment of those
points in the record which had challenged criticism, and the ripened
judgment exercised in the reconsideration was manifested in such
modifications of the view of the evidence adduced that, although several
members still adhered to the earlier findings, the strength of the
opposing opinion was so recruited that a majority of the number
concurred in it, and the vote resulted in an acquittal.
Hence Captain Baynell had again the stern pleasure of leading his
battery into action. His pride never fully recovered its elasticity
after the days of his humiliation, but his martyrdom was not altogether
without guerdon. His marriage to Leonora, which was a true union of
hearts and hands, took place almost immediately. Compassion, faith, the
admiration of strength and courage in adversity, proved more potent
elements with Leonora Gwynn than her appreciation of the prowess that
stormed the fort.
Beyond his promotion and a captain's shoulder straps, Julius Roscoe
gained naught by his signal victory. Although he seemed to meet his
disappointment in love jauntily enough, he went abroad almost
immediately after the cessation of hostilities in America, and still
later attained distinction as a soldier of fortune especially in the
Franco-Prussian war. Now and again echoes from those foreign drum-beats
penetrated the tranquillities of the storm centre, and Lucille, looking
over the shoulders of the other two "ladies," officiously opening the
evening paper to discern some item perchance of the absent, would
glance up elated at the elders of the group, lifting her hand to her
forehead with that spirited military salute, so expressive of
Soldier-Boy.
THE END
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A fascinating study of a woman's youth in one of the coast
counties of England, a carefully drawn picture of ever
interesting human types.
LOVETT--RICHARD GRESHAM. By ROBERT MORSS LOVETT.
"Goes forward determinedly from a singular opening to an
unsuspected close, without faltering or wavering ... a very
honest piece of workmanship."--_New York Evening Post._
LUTHER--THE MASTERY. By MARK LEE LUTHER, author of "The Henchman," "The
Favor of Princes," etc.
A vigorous and convincing story of modern practical politics,
so notably strong in its sense of reality as to give the
reader the thrill of a privileged glimpse into the mysteries
of the one great game.
OVERTON--CAPTAINS OF THE WORLD. By GWENDOLEN OVERTON, author of "Anne
Carmel," "The Heritage of Unrest," etc.
An unusually fascinating book ... has the double attractive
power of earnestness and a subject which compels sympathetic
attention.
POTTER--THE FLAME GATHERERS. By MARGARET HORTON POTTER, author of "Istar
of Babylon," etc.
"A wonderful romance of intensity and color."--_Book News._
SINCLAIR--MANASSAS. By UPTON SINCLAIR, author of "Springtime and Harvest,"
etc.
"In no single volume which we can call to mind have the
undercurrents of feeling, so intense and so varied, that
swayed men's minds in those troublous times, been so fully and
well portrayed."--_The Times Dispatch_ (Richmond).
WEBSTER--TRAITOR AND LOYALIST: Or, The Man who Found his Country. By
HENRY KITCHELL WEBSTER, author of "Roger Drake: Captain of Industry," "The
Banker and the Bear," etc. With illustrations by Joseph Cummings Chase.
Mr. Webster's new romance is one in which love and war
contribute a full quota of interest, intrigue, thrilling
suspense, and hairbreadth escapes.
THE MACMILLAN COMPANY
64-66 Fifth Avenue, New York
Transcriber's Note
There is some arcane and inconsistent spelling and dialect. These have
been preserved as far as possible.
Only obvious typographical errors such as letters being transposed have
been corrected and hyphenation has been made consistent.
End of Project Gutenberg's The Storm Centre, by Charles Egbert Craddock