The thudding feet came nearer. A bugle call--a rattling of accouterments
and then, from the other side of the hedge, came a half dozen troopers
in blue, led by a Sergeant with a red face and bloodshot eyes.
"This way, boys!" the Sergeant shouted, and at the sound of a harsh,
never-forgotten voice Uncle Billy's grasp on his ax grew tighter. "_I_
know the place--I've been here before. _We'll_ get the liquor and silver
while the Colonel is stealing the horses, eh?" Then his eyes fell on
Uncle Billy and he greeted him with a yell of recognition. "Hello, you
black old ape! Come down and show us where you buried the silver and the
whisky. Oh, you won't? Then I'll come up and get you," and he lurched
forward.
"Look here, white man," Uncle Billy shouted, lifting the rusty ax high
in the air, "you stay whar you is. Ef you come up dem steps I'll split
yo' ugly haid! I know you, Jim Dudley," he cried. "Mars' Cary done give
you _one_ horse whippin', an' ef you hang aroun' here you'll get anudder
one!"
Furious at the recollection of his shame of a few years back when he had
been overseer on this same plantation, the Sergeant rushed up the steps
and knocked the ax aside with his gun barrel. "Yes, he did whip me, burn
him, and now I'll do the same for you." Seizing Uncle Billy by the
throat he pushed him against the house.
Instantly the door swung open. Mrs. Cary, her head held high, her
beautiful dark eyes blazing with wrath, stood on the threshold.
"Stop it!" she commanded in tones that brooked no disobedience even from
a drunkard. "Let my servant go--instantly!"
Astounded at this sudden apparition the man shrank back for a moment,
but almost as quickly regained his bluster.
"Ah-hah, the beautiful Mrs. Cary, eh! I'm glad to see you looking so
well--and handsome."
The words might as well have been spoken to the wind for all the notice
that the woman paid them. With only a gesture of mingled contempt and
loathing she stepped to the railing and called to the grinning troopers
below. "Who is in command here?"
To her horror only Dudley answered.
"_I_ am," he said, triumphantly. He thrust a menacing face close to hers
and ordered her curtly. "And I'd just as soon have _you_ get me a drink
as the nigger. Come on, fine lady."
Intent on insulting this woman whose husband had once cut his back with
a whip the man caught her by the arm and roughly tried to pull her to
him. But before he could accomplish his purpose retribution fell on him
with a heavy hand.
Through a gap in the hedge an officer at the head of a dozen troopers
appeared. One look at the scene on the veranda and Lieutenant-Colonel
Morrison, with a smothered cry, dashed up the steps.
"You beastly coward," and catching the drunkard by the collar he twisted
him around and hurled him thudding and bumping down the steps. "Dudley,
I ought to have you shot." He swept his arm out and gave voice to a
ringing command. "Report to Lieutenant Harris--at once--_under arrest!_
Corporal! Take his gun." He paused a moment as a brother of the man now
under arrest stepped forward with a sullen face and obeyed orders.
Running his glance over the line of faces, now suddenly vacant of
expression, he whipped them mercilessly with his eye. "You men, too,
will hear from me. Go to the stable and wait. Another piece of work like
this and I'll have your coats cut off with a belt buckle! Clear out!"
Then he turned to the beautiful woman in white who stood only a few feet
away, no longer timid but in entire possession of her faculties before
what, she knew, might prove a greater danger than a drunkard.
"Madam," said the Union officer as he doffed his hat, "I couldn't
apologize for this, no matter how hard I tried; but, believe me, I
regret it--deeply."
In answer she slowly raised her heavy lidded eyes and gave him her
first thrust--smoothly and deftly.
"No apology is demanded," she murmured in soft tones. "I was merely
unfamiliar with the Union's method of attack."
"Attack!" he repeated, astounded, and stepped back.
"What else?" she asked, simply. "My home is over-run; my servant
assaulted--by a drunken ruffian."
"The man will be punished," was the stern reply, "to the limit of my
authority."
"He _should_ be. We know him," the Southern woman said bitterly. "Before
the war he was our overseer. He was cruel to the negroes and my husband
gave him a taste of his own discipline--with a riding whip!"
"Ah, I see," Morrison nodded. "But it is not always in an officer's
power to control each individual in the service--especially at such a
time. Yet I assure you on the part of the Union--and mine--that there
was no intention of attack."
Mrs. Cary had chosen this moment in which to draw her visitor off the
veranda and when she had successfully brought him to the foot of the
steps she looked up in smiling sarcasm with another thrust.
"Oh! Then since your visit would seem a _social_ one--how may I serve
you, sir?"
Morrison laughed lightly. This pretty cat could scratch.
"I'm afraid, dear madam, you are wrong again. My detachment is on
foraging duty. It is not a pleasant task--but our army is in need of
horses and supplies, and by the rules of war, I must take what I can
find."
"Even by force?" came the quiet inquiry.
"Yes, even force," he answered, reddening. "With its proper limitations.
I rob you, it is true, but by virtue of necessity. In return I can only
offer, as I would to every other woman of the South, all courtesy and
protection at my command," and Lieutenant-Colonel Morrison, for the
second time, took off his hat.
The Southern woman swept him a curtsey filled with graceful mockery.
"I thank you. There is consolation--and even flattery--in being
plundered by a gentleman." She made a short gesture which took in
house, plantation and all the Cary possessions. "I regret sincerely that
we have nothing left; yet I beg you--help yourself."
Colonel Morrison bit his lip, half in vexation and half in amusement.
"At least you make my undertaking a difficult one, although I must
admit, I hardly blame you." And then, with a quick, searching look, "Are
there any rebels hidden in your house?"
"No," she answered.
"No wounded officers--or refugees of any kind?"
"None."
"You give me your word for this--your oath?"
The Southern woman's head went up and her eyes flashed. "I do," she said
contemptuously and moved away.
"Thank you," was the grave reply, and he turned to dismiss his men. Then
a thought struck him and he detained her with a gesture.
"Pardon me, but if it _was_ true--if a brother or a father--was
concealed in there--wouldn't your answer be the same?"
The answer that came proudly back did not amaze him. "I would try to
protect them--yes! Even with a _perjury_!"
"Ah!" he said sharply. "Then, don't you you see, you tie the hands of
courtesy and _force_ me to--to this invasion of your home. _Corporal!_
Make a search of the house for hidden arms or stragglers and report to
me. If any rebels are found--bring them out. Wait," he ordered, as the
Corporal promptly started forward, "nothing else, _whatever_, must be
taken or molested."
"One moment," commanded Mrs. Cary in her turn and beckoned to Uncle
Billy who had been standing by in silence. "William! conduct these
soldiers through my house--and show them every courtesy. If the
Colonel's orders are not obeyed, report to me."
"Yas'm," grinned Uncle Billy, with an opera bouffe salute. "Ev'ry
molestashun I'se gwine report."
Morrison laughed outright. "I'm sorry you still have doubts of my
honorable intentions. May--may my soldiers go in now? Thank you."
He walked away a few steps, then turned and looked at her where she sat
on the bench demurely sewing. It occurred to him that she was _too_
demure. Besides, he had discovered something.
"Er--it is true that I found your stable empty," he said, while his eyes
probed hers, "but, curiously enough, it seems to have been recently
occupied."
"Yes?" was the non-committal reply.
"Yes," he echoed, with a touch of iron in his voice. "And you can insure
our leaving you more quickly if you will tell me where these horses have
been hidden."
Mrs. Cary did not raise her eyes.
"Granted that we _had_ them," she said, "I'm afraid I must trouble you
to look for them. Otherwise there would be no sense in trying to protect
my property."
"Right again," he acknowledged, but did not swerve from what he had to
do. "Orderly," he commanded, "report to Lieutenant Harris at the stables
and have him hunt the woods and swamp for hidden horses. Hurry! We must
leave in half an hour."
As Morrison spoke his eye fell on the roadway and he started
perceptibly. When he turned back to the woman on the bench it was with a
sterner light in his eye.
"I also notice that a horse has recently been fed and watered in your
carriage road. _Whose was he?_"
Again that smooth, soft voice with its languid evasions. "We have
several neighbors, Colonel. They visit us at infrequent times."
"Undoubtedly," he conceded. "But do you usually feed their horses?"
She smiled faintly. "What little hospitality is ours extends to both man
and beast."
"I can well believe it," he replied, for he saw to cross-examine this
quick witted woman would be forever useless. "And in happier times I
could wish it might extend--to me.
"Oh, I mean no offense," he interrupted as Mrs. Cary rose haughtily. "I
only want you to believe that I'm sorry for this intrusion."
She raised her eyebrows faintly and sat down again. "And was that the
reason why you asked about my neighbor's horse?"
"No," he said quickly, and as suddenly caught and held her eye. "There's
a Rebel scout who has been giving us trouble--a handsome fellow riding a
bay horse. I thought, perhaps, he might have passed this way."
If he had thought he would detect anything in her face he was once more
mistaken.
"It is more than possible," Mrs. Cary remarked with a touch of
weariness. "The road out there is a public one."
"And where does it lead to, may I ask?"
"That depends upon which way you are traveling--and which fork you
take."
"Possibly. But suppose you were riding north. Wouldn't the right fork
lead to Richmond--and the left swing around toward the river crossing?"
"As to that I must refer you to a more competent authority," she
answered with a hint of some disclosure in her tones.
"Who?"
"Mr. Jefferson Davis," she replied and almost laughed outright as he
turned away to hide his vexation. This was an easy game for her to
play--and every moment she gained added to Herbert's safety. But if only
she could hear those three shots from across the river.
"Well, Harris?" said Morrison as his Lieutenant strode up.
"I have to report, sir, that we've gotten what little hay and corn there
was in the stables and are waiting for your orders."
"Very well," and Lieutenant-Colonel Morrison's incisive words rang
mercilessly in the listening woman's ears. "Pick out the best shots you
have among your men and send them at the gallop down this road to the
river crossing. String them along the bank, dismount them and have them
watch as they've never watched before. You understand? Now _hurry_!"
If ever a woman hated a man, or rather the crushing force he typified,
then Herbert Cary's wife hated this clear headed, efficient Northerner,
who was now discovering how he had been delayed and thwarted. Yet she
had plenty of spirit left, for as Corporal Dudley and his file of
troopers emerged from the house she stood up and caught Uncle Billy's
eye.
"Well, Corporal?" asked Morrison.
"Well, William?" asked Mrs. Cary.
"It's all right, Miss Hallie," Uncle Billy grinned. "Dey ain't took
nothin'--not a single thing."
"Thank you, William," said Mrs. Cary, having triumphed again. "And thank
_you_, gentlemen." With a bow to Morrison she went superbly back to her
seat under the trees. But as she went it took all her strength of will
to keep from crying. Down the carriage road a squad of cavalry was
galloping furiously towards the river. And still she had not heard the
three shots.
"Now, then, Corporal, you found what?"
"Nothing, sir. We hunted from cellar to roof. No arms and no rebels."
"H'm," he mused. "Anything else?"
"Three bedrooms, sir. All in use."
"Three?" Colonel Morrison exclaimed. "Very well. That's all. I'll join
you in a moment." Then he turned to Mrs. Cary, his face stern with
resolve.
"Madam," he said crisply, "you are not alone on this plantation with
only this old negro. We are wasting time. I'm after a Rebel scout and _I
want him_. Which way did he go?"
"I'm sorry, sir," she said, quite ready to play her game again. "But our
Rebel scouts usually neglect to mention their precise intentions."
"Perhaps. If this one went at all. Is he still here?"
"I should imagine--_not_."
"Then he did go this way--to the river crossing?"
Once more he caught and held her eyes and thought he would read the
truth in spite of anything she might say.
But while he looked he saw her strained face suddenly relax--saw the
anxiety flee from her eyes--saw heart and soul take on new life. From
far away across the river had come some faint popping sounds, regularly
spaced--_three shots_.
"Ah!" he said, in wonder. "What is that?"
"It _sounds_," laughed Herbert Cary's wife, "like firing. But I think it
is a friend of mine saluting me--from the safe side of the river. Good
evening, Colonel," and she swept by him. She could go find Virgie now.
Just then came the sound of a horse, galloping. Up the road came a
trooper, white with dust, his animal flecked with foam.
"For Colonel Morrison. Urgent," he rasped from a dry throat, as he
thudded across the lawn and dismounted. "From headquarters," and he
thrust out a dispatch, "I'm ordered to return with your detachment."
Snatching the dispatch from the man's hand Morrison ran his eye over
it--then started visibly.
"Orderly! Report to Harris double-quick. Recall the men. Sound
boots-and-saddles. Then bring my horse--_at once!_ Any details?" he
asked peremptorily of the courier.
"Big battle to-morrow," the man answered. "Two gunboats are reported
coming up the river and a wing of the Rebel army is advancing from
Petersburg. Every available detachment is ordered in. You are to reach
camp before morning."
"All right. We'll be there." Then, as the bugle sounded, "Ride with us,"
he said, and strode over to where Mrs. Cary stood, arrested by the news.
"Madam, I must make you a rather hurried farewell--and a last apology.
If ever we meet again, I hope the conditions may be happier--for you."
"I thank you, Colonel," the proud Southern woman said sincerely, with a
curtsy. "Some day the 'rebel scout' may thank you also for me and mine."
And with a smile that augured friendship when that brighter day should
come she passed out of his sight among the trees.
For a moment he watched her, proud at least that this proud woman was of
his own race, then saw that the old negro, her only protector, still
guarded the house.
"Here, old man," he commanded, "go along with your mistress and take
care of her. I'll be the last to leave and see that nothing happens to
the house."
"Yas, seh. Thank'e, seh," said old Uncle Billy, coming down. "If all of
'em was only lek you, seh--"
Uncle Billy suddenly turned and looked up at the house, his mouth open
in consternation. With a cry of anguish he pointed to an upper window.
"Look what dey done done," he shrieked. "Aw, Gawd a'mighty! Look what
dey done done!"
A cloud of smoke was rolling from the windows, shot through with yellow
jets of flame. There was the sound of clumsy boots on the stairs and the
door was thrown open. Dudley, escaped from arrest, ran out with a
flaming pine torch in his hand.
"Halt!" cried Morrison, with raging anger. "Dudley! HALT!"
But Dudley knew that there would be little use in halting and so ran on
until a big revolver barked behind him and he pitched heavily forward on
his face. Morrison looked down on the prostrate form and his lips moved
sadly, pityingly:
"And I promised her--protection!"