THE BOOT ON THE OTHER LEG.
LONG before the imperial, and now imperious, lady announced the
conclusion of the whole matter, Somers realized that he was the victim
of a conspiracy; that he had been invited to dinner in order to procure
his capture. He had listened to the fallacious argument embodied in the
five questions, and was prepared to refute it if occasion required. He
had no difficulty in perceiving that he had got into trouble. The house
was surrounded by a squad of rebel cavalry, and it would be folly to
attempt to fight his way through them.
Nevertheless, Somers had coolly and decisively made up his mind not to
be a prisoner. He had been invited into the house under the guise of
friendship. The lady had pretended to cherish an excellent feeling,
amounting almost to admiration, towards him; had treated him as a
friend, and detained him until the cavalry could be sent for. The trap
had been set, and he had certainly fallen into it. The circumstances
were not at all like those under which he had entered the house of Dr.
Scoville; he had not been invited there; he had gone in as a hunted
fugitive, and the host had received and taken care of him without any
pledge, expressed or implied, on his part, or that of Captain de Banyan,
who accompanied him. His conscience, therefore, did not reproach him for
any violation of the law of hospitality.
“You are a prisoner, Captain Somers, I repeat,” said Maud—“my prisoner,
if you please.”
“Miss Hasbrouk, I have always cherished a feeling of admiration and
regard for the ladies; but I regret, in the present instance, to be
compelled to contradict you. I am not a prisoner, if you will excuse me
for saying so,” replied Somers, calmly.
“The house is surrounded by Confederate cavalry,” added she. “It only
remains for me to call them in and end this scene.”
“Allow me to observe that the part which remains will be infinitely more
difficult than the part already performed.”
“Am I to understand, Captain Somers, that you propose to resist twenty
men, who stand ready to capture you?” demanded the lady, with a
triumphant smile.
“Excuse me if I evade that question also for the present. Perhaps you
will still further pardon me, if, in this delicate and difficult
business, I venture to ask you a few questions, which you will answer or
evade, as you please.”
“With great pleasure I submit to be questioned, Captain Somers,”
answered she, with a merry twinkle in her eyes, which told how much she
still enjoyed the “situation.”
“Thank you, Miss Hasbrouk. You are one of those brawling rebel women who
have done so much to keep up the spirits of the chivalry in this
iniquitous rebellion. You are one of the feminine Don Quixotes who have
unsexed themselves in the cause of treason and slavery.”
“I will not hear this, if you will, Maud. Sir!” exclaimed the major,
advancing towards the bold and ungallant speaker, “your foul mouth—”
“Stand where you are, Major Riggleston!” said Somers, fiercely, as he
pointed a pistol at his head. “If you stir a step, or open your mouth
again, you are a dead man!”
The major seemed to be taken all aback by this decided demonstration. He
had no pistol about him; and though he was a “fighting man,” Somers was
pretty well satisfied that he would “hold still” until it was safe for
him to move. Judging from her looks, Maud seemed to be taking a slightly
different view of the situation.
“Excuse my rude words, Miss Hasbrouk,” continued the captain, with a
gentle inclination of the head. “As this is your affair, I will thank
this gentleman not to interfere. Shall I repeat what I said before?”
“It is not necessary,” replied she, coldly.
“Then we will proceed. First question: Did I correctly state your
position?”
“Is a woman who strengthens the hearts of those who are fighting for the
right to exist—”
“First question evaded,” interposed Somers. “You invited me to this
house; and, by the laws of hospitality, which even the heathen respect,
you were impliedly pledged to treat me as a friend, and not as a foe.
Second question: Is this so?”
“Did you learn to respect the law of hospitality at Dr. Scoville’s?”
sneered she.
“Second question evaded. Dr. Scoville made no pledges to me, nor I to
him. No person can blame me for leaving his house when I got ready.
Accepting his hospitality and his kindness did not pledge me to go to a
Confederate dungeon, where prisoners are systematically murdered. To
proceed: By your own confession you invited me to dine in order to make
me a prisoner, and take my life by having me hanged as a spy. If you
sought to capture me by a trick, would it not—third question—be equally
fair for me to escape by a trick?”
“But it is utterly impossible for you to escape,” replied she, glancing
through the window at the cavalry on the lawn.
“Third question evaded. You are a lady; and as such, under ordinary
circumstances, you are entitled to be treated with the delicacy and
consideration due to your sex. But as you have ceased to be a
non-combatant,—which you were sorely against your will, and are now
actively engaged in the war, conducting the business of capturing a
prisoner,—under these circumstances, would it not be entirely fair for
me to treat you as a combatant, precisely the same as though you had not
unsexed yourself, and were a man?”
“You seem to have already forgotten what is due to a lady,” replied she,
her cheek flushed with anger.
“Fourth question evaded.”
“Sir, I decline to hear any more of this coarse abuse!” exclaimed she,
stamping her foot.
“Indulge me for one moment more, and I will endeavor as much as possible
to avoid talking through my nose, and making pretensions as a hero of
the Yankee army, or a down-east pink of chivalry.”
Perhaps the imperial beauty thought that these expressions, borrowed
from her own elegant discourse, were not especially refined for a lady
to use; it may be that they sounded coarse on a repetition, but she made
no acknowledgment to that effect.
“Your silence consents: thank you. Miss Hasbrouk, you speak with
chivalrous contempt of what you are pleased to term ‘Yankee tricks;’ at
the same time, you were thrown into spasms of laughter by the apparent
success of one of your own tricks. Now, permit me to ask whether you
would equally appreciate—fifth question—a trick quite as smart as your
own?”
“You have insulted me long enough, sir!” replied she, haughtily. “Now,
sir—”
“Fifth question evaded. I have no more to ask.”
“Now, sir, I will hand you over to your masters,” said she, moving a
step towards the door.
“Excuse me if I take the liberty to decline being handed over to my
masters,” said Somers, stepping between her and the door, and now
occupying a position between the lady and the discomfited major.
“Sir, what do you mean?” demanded the lady, her bosom heaving with angry
emotions, as she found herself confronted by the young officer, who
looked as firm and immovable as a mountain of granite.
“I mean all that I say, and much more,” answered he, with an emphasis
which she could not fail to understand.
“Sir, I desire to pass out at that door.”
“I positively forbid your passing out at that door.”
“Sir!” gasped she, almost overcome by her angry passions.
“Miss Hasbrouk!” replied he, bowing.
“You are no gentleman!”
“When I came here I regarded you as a lady, and one of the brightest
ornaments of your sex. What I think now I shall keep to myself.”
“I shall go mad!”
“I hope not; though I fear you have been tending in that direction for
the last hour.”
“Major Riggleston!” cried she, turning to her lover, “will you stand
there and permit me to be insulted in this manner?”
“Major Riggleston _will_ stand there. If he moves hand or foot, or opens
his mouth to speak, I will blow his brains out. He is a villain and a
traitor, and of course he is a coward!”
The major winced under these strong words; but there was death in the
sharp, snapping eye of the young officer, and he dared not move hand or
foot, or even speak. Perhaps he thought that, as the lady had insisted
on managing the affair herself, it was quite proper that she should be
indulged to the end.
“I can endure this no longer!” exclaimed Maud, as she took another step
towards the door for the purpose of calling in the troopers.
“Stop, Miss Hasbrouk!” said Somers, pointing a pistol at her head with
his right hand, while that in his left was ready to dispose of the
major.
[Illustration: THE BOOT ON THE OTHER LEG.—PAGE 73.]
“Is it possible that you can raise your weapon against a woman?” cried
she, shrinking back from the gaping muzzle of the pistol.
“Let us understand each other, Miss Hasbrouk. I am not to be captured.
If you attempt to leave the room, or to call in the rebel soldiers, I
will shoot you, as gently and considerately as the deed can be done; but
I will shoot you, as surely as you stand there and I stand here.”
He cocked the pistol. She heard the click of the hammer. She stood in
mortal terror of her life.
“You forget that I am a woman,” said she, in tones of alarm.
“I did not forget it until you had forgotten it yourself,” answered
Somers. “You have abused and insulted me. Under the guise of friendship
you are attempting to hand me over to death by my enemies. Did you think
I would be dropped gently into the arms of the rebels, and be hung as a
spy? If you insist on pursuing your plan to the end, it will be death to
you or death to me. I am not quite willing to die for any rebel woman,
and especially not for one who is seeking my life. It would grieve me to
shoot one so fair and fascinating as Miss Hasbrouk; I should remember it
with sorrow to the end of my days; but my duty to myself and my country
requires the sacrifice, and I would shoot you if it broke my heart.”
“Are you in earnest, Captain Somers?” asked she, still struggling under
the violence of her emotions.
“Maud,” said the major.
“Silence, sir!” added the captain, sternly. “Miss Hasbrouk, I am in
earnest. The situation has changed. Would you like a photographer to
preserve the scene for future inspection?”
“You would not kill me?”
“I would, as you would kill me.”
“But the soldiers are impatient outside, and they may come in without my
call,” suggested she, glancing at the window, while every muscle in her
frame shook with terror.
“If they do, it will cost you your life, unless they are more reasonable
than you are.”
“Good Heaven! You mean to murder me?”
“Not if I can help it. When I fire, it will be from a solemn sense of
duty; for your cutthroats would hang me to the nearest tree if they knew
as much of me as you do.”
“What shall I do?” asked she, wildly, as she looked around the room.
“Now you are reasonable. Let your servant bring pen, ink, and paper.”
She ordered the man who had waited on the table to bring the required
articles, and Somers gave him a charge to be discreet as he left the
room. In a few moments he returned with the writing materials, and laid
them on the table. The negro was even more terrified than the lady, and
there was no fear that he would venture upon any bold enterprise.
“Now, Major Riggleston, sit down at the table,” said Somers. “You will
remain where you are, Miss Hasbrouk.”
“What am I to do?” asked the major.
“You will write what I dictate. Did you call this cavalry?”
“I did.”
“Then you are a loyal Marylander with a vengeance, and a worthy officer
of the Maryland Home Brigade; but I will warrant there is not another
such a scoundrel in the organization.”
“That is a personal insult, for which—”
“Silence, sir. Who commands the cavalry outside?”
“A sergeant.”
“How many men has he?”
“Twenty.”
“Now write. ‘Sergeant: The matter upon which I called you was all a
mistake. Your services will not be required, and you will retire from
the house without delay.’ Sign it as you please.”
Somers looked over his shoulder to satisfy himself that the major wrote
what he said, and nothing else.
“It is possible we may get through this business without shooting either
one of you,” added the captain, as the scribe folded up the note. “Give
the paper to the servant.”
“Go to the front door, boy, and deliver this note to the sergeant in
command of the squad of cavalry,” continued Somers.
“Yes, sar.”
“Stop a moment. You are not to say a word to him.”
“No, sar.”
“If one of those soldiers should come into the house, it might cost your
mistress her life.”
“De Lo’d forbid, massa!”
“Do you understand me, boy?”
“Yes, sar. Dey shan’t come in, massa, no how.”
He departed on his mission. Somers still stood in the attitude for
action, and Maud and the major looked as cheap and as chapfallen as
though they had not another hope in the world. They waited with even
more impatience than the captain for the departure of the cavalry, both
of them fearing that some unfortunate accident might bring the desperate
young man to the execution of his horrible threat.
The sergeant outside was, luckily, not of an inquiring mind. The clatter
of horses’ feet and the clanking of sabres were heard again, and the
cavalry dashed down the road to more hopeful scenes.
------------------------------------------------------------------------