Caton came in once more about the middle of the afternoon, bringing me some blankets; but he had no news, and his boyish face was a picture of pathos as he wrung my hand good-bye. Sheridan, he said, had gone down the lines, and both Brennan and himself were under orders to follow in another hour. What instructions, if any, had been left regarding my case he could not say, but he feared the worst from the unusual secrecy. Sheridan expected to return to his headquarters that same evening, as the officers of his staff were to give a grand ball.
I felt no inclination to partake of the rude supper left me, and just before dark I was lying upon the bench idly wondering if that was to prove the last vestige of daylight I should ever behold in this world, when, without slightest warning, the heavy iron grating in the wall directly above me fell suddenly, striking the edge of the bench, and clattered noisily to the floor. The fall was so unexpected, and my escape from injury so narrow, that I lay almost stunned, staring up helplessly at the dark hole thus left bare. As I gazed, a face framed itself in this narrow opening, and two wary eyes peered cautiously down at me. There was no mistaking that countenance even in the fast waning light, and I instantly sat up with an exclamation of surprise, “Jed Bungay, as I live!”
The puzzled face broke into a grin of delight.
“Holy smoke, Cap,” he ejaculated, with a deep sigh of relief, “'s thet you, suah? I wus so durned skeered I'd made a mess o' it whin thet thar iron drapped thet I near died. 'He crossed the threshold—and a clang of angry steel that instant rang.'”
He peered around cautiously, screwing up his little eyes as though transforming them into miniature telescopes.
“'If thou wouldst view fair Melrose aright, go visit it by the pale moonlight.' Be ye all alone, Cap?”
“With the exception of a few rats, yes.”
“Whut be they a goin' ter dew with ye?”
“I have every reason to believe it is their purpose to shoot me at daybreak to-morrow.”
“Shoot?—Hell!” He stared at me as if he had just heard his own death sentence pronounced, and his little peaked face looked ghastly in the dim light. “Shoot ye? Good Lord, Cap, whut fer? Ye ain't done nothin' as I knows on, 'cept ter scrap a bit with thet blasted Yank, an' sure thet's no shootin' matter, er else I'd a bin a goner long ago.”
“That 'Yank' has seen fit to charge me with being a spy; and as I was foolish enough to insult General Sheridan last night, my fate is probably sealed.”
This somewhat complex statement seemed to be too much for Jed to grasp promptly.
“Gosh, ye don't say!” he muttered. “Then, durn it, I'm in luck, fer all they've got agin me is pot-shootin' at a nigger soger up in ther mountings; en thet ain't much, 'cause I didn't hit ther durned cuss. Blame sorry tew, fer 'Who spills the foremost foeman's life, his party conquers in the strife.' Thet's Scott agin, Cap. Dew ye ever read Sir Walter? I tell ye, he's a poet, suah.”
Without pausing for a reply, or even noting that none had been given, Jed was carefully covering every inch of exposed wall with his little shrewd, glinting eyes.
“Ain't much show ter work out o' yere, is thar, Cap?” he asked at last reflectively; “leastwise I don't see none, 'less them thar dark corners hes got holes in 'em.”
“The wall is entirely solid.”
“So I sorter reckoned. But if ye'll crawl through yere inter my boodour, thar's a place whar I reckon ther tew of us tergether mought make a try fer it. It's too durn high up fer me ter git at alone.”
I rose to my feet slowly, wondering at the strange lassitude which made me so indifferent to that life I had always before so highly valued. Bungay noticed my hopelessness.
“Durned if prison life don't take all the sand out o' a feller,” he said cheerfully. “Blame me, but ye move as if ye wus 'bout half dead. But I reckon, Cap, if ye cud manage ter git out o' yere ternight, an' take some news ter Lee thet I've picked up, he'd 'bout make both of us ginerals. 'Speed, Malise, speed! The dun deer's hide on fleeter foot was never tied.'”
These words brought back to me in an instantaneous flash the old dominant military spirit. For Lee! Yes, for Lee I would yet take chances, undergo fatigue, brave death. If life must be given up, let it be yielded gallantly in the open, and on behalf of my distant comrades.
“News for Lee?” I exclaimed, staring eagerly at him through the now darkened room. “Do you mean it? What news?”
“Thought maybe thet wud wake ye up,” he chuckled.
“'Speed on the signal, clansman, speed!' Stan' up on ther bench, Cap, an' put yer ear up yere an' I'LL tell ye. This yere's gospel truth: Sheridan hes started his infantry on a half-circle march fer Minersville. Ther first division left et three o'clock, an' thar won't be nary Yank loafin' en ther valley by noon termorrow. An' more,” he added rapidly, his eyes dancing wildly with suppressed excitement,—“Hancock is a swingin' of his corps west ter meet 'em thar, an' I reckon, as how thar'll be hell fer sartain up ther Shenandoah in less ner a week—es Scott ses, 'the wild sounds of border war.'”
“But how do you know all this?” I questioned incredulously, as the whole scene and its dread possibilities unrolled before my mental vision.
“Ther nigger I held up hed a despatch fer Heintzelman over on ther left, an' then Mariar she sorter pumped a young fule staff officer fer ther rest o' it,” he replied promptly. “Oh, it's a sure go, Cap, an' I reckon as how maybe Lee's whole army hangs on one of us gittin' out o' yere ternight.
That he meant every word he spoke I felt convinced, and his enthusiasm was contagious. My blood leaped within me at this call to action; all lethargy fled, and with it every deadening thought of her who had so suddenly woven about me the meshes of her power. False or true, maid, wife, or widow, my duty as a soldier to my commander and the army to which I belonged, blotted out all else. Even as this new rush of determination swept over me, above us there sounded clearly the dashing music of a military band in the strains of a Strauss's waltz, and we could distinguish the muffled shuffling of many feet on the oaken floor overhead. Caton's chance remark about the great ball to be given that evening by officers of the headquarters staff recurred to my memory.
“That dancing up there will help us, Jed,” I said quickly, my mind now active to grasp every detail. “You say there is a chance for escape from your cell? Then give me your hand, and help me to crawl through that hole.”
It was a narrow squeeze for a man of my size, yet I crept through without great difficulty, and found myself in the dense darkness of a room which, as I judged hastily from feeling about me, was similar in shape and extent to the one in which I had been confined.
Bungay, however, permitted me little time for exploration. Grasping me firmly by one arm, and feeling his way along the wall, he groped across to the other side.
“There's a mighty big stone chimbly comes down yere, Cap,” he whispered, his lips close to my ears, although the noise above made conversation in an ordinary tone perfectly safe. “An' ther openin' ter take out soot an' ashes is up thar, jist b'low ther fluer. It's a sheet-iron pan, I reckon, ther way it feels; an' it must be thar they put a nigger in ter clean ther chimbly whin it gits stuffed up. I could git up thar alone, but I couldn't do no work, but thet thar pan ought ter cum out all right. Dew ye think ye cud hoi' me up, Cap? I'm purty durn heavy.”
I smiled in the darkness at the little fellow's egotism, and lifting him as I might a child, poised him lightly upon my shoulder. He struggled a moment to steady himself against the wall, and then I could feel him tugging eagerly at something which appeared to yield slowly to his efforts. As he worked, a dense shower of dust and soot caused me to close my eyes.
“She's a comin' all right,” he said cheerfully, puffing with his exertions, “but I reckon as how this chimbly ain't bin cleaned out since ther war begun. Hold up yer right han', Cap, an' git a blame good grip on her, fer she's almighty full, an'll wanter go down sorter easy like.”
I did as he suggested, bracing myself to meet his movements, as he stood straining on my shoulders, and in another moment I had succeeded in lowering the large sheet-iron pan silently to the floor.
“Room 'nough yere fer two men ter oncet,” chuckled my companion, in rare delight. “'The chief in silence strode before.' Yere goes.”
His weight left my shoulders; there was a slight scramble, another shower of dirt, then the sound of his voice once more.
“Lift up yer han's, Cap; dig in yer toes on ther stones, an' we'll begin our vi'ge.”
He grasped my wrists with a strength which I had no conception the little fellow possessed. There was a moment's breathless struggle, and I squirmed through the opening, and lay panting on the flat slabs which composed the foot of the great funnel. To afford me more room Bungay had gone up a little, finding foot-lodgment upon the uneven stones of which the chimney was constructed. For a moment we rested thus motionless, both breathing heavily and listening to the music and shuffling of feet now almost upon a level with our heads.
The noise, which was strong and continuous, rendered discovery from any misstep highly improbable, and as delay was dangerous neither of us was disposed to linger long.
“Be ye all ready, Cap?” questioned Bungay, bending his head down. “Fer if ye be, I'm a goin' up.”
“All right,” I answered, struggling to my knees in the narrow space; “only take it slow, Jed. I 'm a trifle bigger man than you, and this is rather close quarters.”
“Wal, yes, maybe a matter of a poun' er two,” he retorted, and the next moment I could hear him scraping his way upward, feeling for foothold upon the irregular layers of stone. I followed, pressing my knees firmly against the rough wall, and trusting more to my hands than feet for security against falling. There was evidently a fireplace of some kind on the first floor, with a considerable opening leading from it into the chimney we were scaling, for as Jed slowly passed, I could perceive a sudden gleam of light streaming across his face from the glare of the lamps within. He glanced anxiously that way, but did not pause in his steady climb upward.
A moment later I came opposite that same beam of radiance, and cautiously peered down the sloped opening that led to the disused fireplace. All I could perceive was a pair of legs, evidently those of a cavalry officer, judging from the broad yellow stripe down the seam of the light-blue trousers, and the high boots ornamented with rowel spurs. He stood leaning carelessly against the mantel, talking with some one just beyond the range of my vision.
At that moment the music ceased suddenly, and afraid to proceed until it should strike up again, I braced myself securely on a projecting stone and bent my head over the orifice until I could catch a portion of the conversation being carried on by my unconscious neighbors.
“No,” said the cavalryman, gruffly, and apparently in reply to some previous question, “the fellow was most devilish obstinate; wouldn't tell the first thing; even a threat of treating him as a spy and hanging him outright proved of no avail. But Sheridan's theory is that Lee has ordered Longstreet to hit our rear, while he makes a direct attack in front. That's why the 'old man' proposes to get in his work first, and we march at daylight to form connection with Hancock. By Jove, Chesley, but that woman in black over there with Follansbee is the handsomest picture I've seen south of the line. Mark how her eyes sparkle, and how prettily the light gleams in her hair. Who is she, do you chance to know?”
“Yes,” lisped the other, languidly, “met her at breakfast, headquarters, this morning. Deuced pretty and all that, mighty good style, too, but taken, old man. She's Brennan's.”
“What! not Major Brennan?” in surprise. “Why, he's always posed as a bachelor among our fellows.”
“Don't know anything about that, dear boy,” indifferently, “but the lady came in with him yesterday, was introduced to the crowd of us as Mrs. Brennan, and he called her Edith. Deuced nice name, Edith. As Brennan has shown such poor taste as to be absent to-night, I'm inclined to give a little of my time to his lady. Far and away the prettiest thing here.”
Just at this moment I heard Bungay speaking to me agonizingly down the chimney:
“Durn it all, Cap, I've—I've got ter sneeze.”
There was a smothered struggle in the darkness above me, then a muffled explosion that showered me with soot, and sounded to my startled nerves like the report of a gun. I drew up my legs hastily, and had barely done so when a heavily whiskered face peered up at me through the open fireplace. It appeared so close I had no doubt he saw me, but his eyes were unable to penetrate the darkness.
“Sounded devilishly like a sneeze,” he said suspiciously, as he straightened up again. “Must have been wind in the chimney.”
“More likely bats,” returned the other. “Well, so long, Somers; see you in the morning. I'm going to give the fair Edith a whirl.”
The cavalry legs shifted their position; the band resumed its functions, and in the renewed activity and noise I began again the toilsome climb, my mind now a bewildered chaos between my plain duty to Lee and my nearly uncontrollable desire to meet once more the woman who was dancing in the room below.
The little mountaineer, as active as a cat, and not especially hampered by lack of room in which to work, was well above me by this time. The chimney, acting as a tube, brought down to me from time to time the slight noise of his climbing, varied by an occasional exclamation or comment, but I could perceive no other evidence of his presence. Above, all was as black as the grave.
“Holy smoke!” he ejaculated, probably unaware that he was giving utterance to his thoughts. “That was a sharp rock! Durn if thar's a inch o' skin left on my knee. Whut is it Scott ses? 'An' broken arms and disarray marked the fell havoc of the day.' Gee! if Mariar cud only see me now, maybe she wouldn't be proud—
“Ough! stop thet! who's got hold o' my fut?”
“Hush your racket, you little fool,” I said angrily. “Do you want the whole Yankee army to trap us here like rats? I cannot get up this chimney any farther; it is growing too small to permit my body to pass.”
“Is thet so, Cap?” he asked anxiously. “Whut be ye goin' ter dew 'bout it?”
I made no answer for a moment; I was groping about in the darkness of our narrow quarters to see if I could determine exactly where we were.
“How high is this house, Jed, do you know?”
“Three stories an' attic.”
“How far up are we?”
“'Bout halfway 'long ther third story, I reckon; must be jist b'low whar ye are thet I stuck my fut down an openin'. Reckon 't was 'nother fireplace, like thet one on ther first flure.”
I lowered myself silently, and felt along the stones until I located the opening, and roughly measured its dimensions.
“I shall have to risk crawling out here, Jed,” I said finally, “for I shall surely stick fast if I go up another ten feet. Do you suppose you can squeeze through to the top?”
“I reckon I kin,” he returned calmly. “'Just as the minstrel's sounds were stayed, a stranger climbed the steepy glade.' But hadn't we better stick tergether, Cap?” “No,” I answered firmly. “You go on, and one of us must get through to Lee. Don't mind me at all; get down from the roof as best you can. If I am caught it will be all the more important that you should succeed.”
“'Tis done—'I thank thee, Roderick, for the word; it nerves my heart, it steels my sword.'”
Even as he spoke I could hear him creeping steadily upward. It soon became evident that his progress was growing slower, more difficult. Then all sounds above me ceased, and I knew he must have attained the roof in safety.
My own situation at this moment was too critical, too full of peril and uncertainty, to afford opportunity for moralizing over Bungay's chances of escape. Only one possibility lay before me—there remained no choice, no necessity for planning. It is pure luck which pries open most doors of life, and it was upon luck alone I must rely now. I have often wondered since how I ever succeeded in squeezing my body through that narrow opening into the empty fireplace without at least knocking over something during the difficult passage. But I did manage, working my way down slowly, creeping inch by inch like a snake, carefully testing each object I touched in the darkness for fear of its proving loose, until I finally lay stretched at full length upon what was evidently, from its feeling, a carpet of unusually fine texture.
The room proved to be an inner one and unlighted, a bedchamber, as I soon determined, for my outstretched hands encountered the posts of a bed. Then a slight gust of air partially swept aside a hanging curtain, which rustled like silk, and I caught a brief glimpse of the adjacent parlor. It was likewise unillumined, but the door leading into the front hall stood ajar, and through that opening there poured a stream of radiance, together with the incessant hum of many voices in animated conversation, the deep blare of the band, with the ceaseless movement of dancing feet.
Satisfying myself by sense of touch that the bed was unoccupied, for I was far too experienced a soldier to leave an enemy in my rear, I crept cautiously forward to the intercepting curtain, and drawing it aside took careful survey of the outer apartment. It was a large and handsomely furnished room, a polished mahogany writing-table littered with papers occupying a prominent position against the farther wall. A swivel chair stood beside it, and across its back hung what appeared to be a suit of clothing. I saw no other signs of human occupancy.
Convinced that the apartment was deserted, and discovering no different means of egress, I crossed the room on tiptoe, and peered cautiously out into the hall. It was not a pleasing prospect to one in my predicament. The lower portion, judging from the incessant hum of voices, was filled with people, who were either unable to find place within the crowded ballroom, or else preferred greater retirement for conversation. Even the wide stairway had been partially pre-empted, a young lieutenant, as I judged from his shoulder-straps, sitting just beneath the landing, whispering eagerly into the attentive ear of a pronounced blonde who shared the broad carpeted step with him.
I drew back noiselessly, to figure out the situation and determine what was best for me to attempt. It would be sheer madness to venture upon a passage to the front door, clad as I was in travel-worn gray uniform; to rush through that jam was impossible. If I were to wait until the dance was concluded the later hours of the night might indeed yield me somewhat clearer passage, yet it was hardly probable that the house, used as I knew it to be for a military prison, would be left unguarded. Besides, such delay must absolutely prevent my getting beyond the Federal picket lines before daybreak, and would hence render valueless the news I sought to bear to Lee.
I moved to the only window and glanced out; it opened upon the back of the house and presented a sheer drop to the ground. At the slight noise of the moving sash a sentry standing at the corner glanced up suspiciously. Evidently each side of the great building was abundantly protected by patrols.
Something had to be attempted, and at once. The room I was in bore unquestionable evidence of recent occupancy, and at any moment might be re-entered. My searching eyes fell upon the articles of clothing carelessly folded over the chair-back. I picked up the garments one by one and shook them out; they composed the new uniform of a colonel of artillery, and were resplendent with bright red facings and a profusion of gold braid. With all my soul I loathed the thought of disguise, and especially the hated uniform of the enemy. It was repugnant to every instinct of my being, and would certainly mean added degradation and danger in the event of capture.
Yet I saw no other way. Sheridan, Brennan, Caton, the three who would certainly recognize me on sight, I was assured were absent, although they might return at any moment. The greater reason for haste, the less excuse for delay. But if I should chance to run foul of the rightful owner of the garments amid that crush below, and he should recognize them, what then? I stood close beside the writing-table as I revolved these considerations rapidly in mind, and my eye chanced to fall upon an open paper. It was an official order, bearing date at 5 P. M. that same day, commanding Colonel Culbertson to move his battery at once down the Kendallville pike, and report to Brigadier-General Knowls for assignment to his brigade. Evidently the new dress uniform had been carefully brushed and laid out to be worn at the ball that evening; the sudden receipt of this order had caused the owner to depart hastily in his service dress, vigorously expressing his feelings, no doubt, while his servant, now enjoying liberty below stairs, had neglected to pack up his master's things.
This knowledge was the straw which decided me; I would chance it. Hastily I drew on the rich blue and red over my old gray, adding the dress sword I had discovered in a closet, and then, wondering curiously what sort of figure I might cut in all these fine habiliments, sought a glance at myself within a mirror hanging upon the bedroom wall. Faith! but it was God's mercy that I did!
Such a face as grinned at me from that glass, peering over the high-cut, decorated collar, would surely have created a genuine sensation in those rooms below. Serious as my situation was, I laughed at the thought of it until tears ran down my cheeks, leaving white streaks the full length of them; for no chimney-sweep in the full tide of his glorious career was ever worse sooted and begrimed. I thought of the elegantly dressed lieutenant and the blonde young lady upon the stairs—surely they would have supposed the very devil himself was coming down.
It took me nearly a quarter of an hour to get myself tolerably clean, and I could not have done that had I not used some grease that was upon the stand. At the end, however, I stepped back from the glass confident that with good luck I should run the gantlet safely.
Just as I prepared to step forth a new thought occurred to me—who was I? If questioned, as was highly probable, how could I account for my presence? Who should I pretend to be? I turned over the mass of papers lying before me on the table. They were mostly accounts and detailed orders about which I cared nothing, but finally my search was rewarded by the discovery of a recent army list. I ran my eyes hastily down the artillery assignments—Barry, Sommers, Fitzmorris, Sloan, Reilly. Ah, there at last was exactly what I wanted—“Patrick L. Curran, Colonel Sixth Ohio Light Artillery, McRoberts's Division, Thomas's Corps, assigned special service, staff Major-General Halleck, Washington, D. C.”
“Curran, Sixth Ohio”—good; and the other? I glanced again at the open order. “Culbertson, Fourteenth Pennsylvania.” I would remember those names, and with a jaunty confidence in my success, born of thorough preparation, I stepped to the open door and strode forth into the brilliantly lighted hall. Barring the single accident of encountering a possible acquaintance in the throng below, I felt fully capable of deceiving his Satanic Majesty himself.
THE young officer glanced up hastily at sound of approaching footsteps, and rose to his feet to permit of my passage. He wore the full dress uniform of an artilleryman, and his evident surprise at my presence made me realize the necessity of addressing him.
“Lieutenant,” I asked courteously, resting one hand easily upon the balustrade, “could you inform me if General Sheridan and those members of the staff who accompanied him down the lines this afternoon have yet returned?”
“They have not, sir.”
“Ah, I was in hopes they might have arrived by this time. I see that you belong to my branch of the service. May I inquire your battery?”
He flushed with pleasure at the delicate flattery of my tone, and in true soldierly pride of his corps.
“B, Fifth New Jersey, sir.”
“I think I remember them in action—no better command in the service. You were at Gettysburg?”
“On Seminary Ridge, sir. It was my first battle.”
“A hard baptism of fire, indeed, yet a remembrance you will long be proud to recall. I thank you for your courtesy.”
I bowed to them both, and passed slowly down the wide stairway, several couples rising as I drew near to permit of my passage. The intense excitement of the strange adventure had by this time become a positive delight. My cheek flushed, my eyes kindled as though new blood flowed in my veins.
“Ah!” I thought to myself proudly, “what a story it will all make for the camp-fire, and if I reach Lee in time the tale of this night will be upon the lips of all the army.”
The lower hall was very comfortably filled with figures moving here and there in converse, or occupying seats pressed close against the walls. The greater portion were attired in uniforms of the various branches of service, yet I observed not a few civilian suits, and a considerable number of women, some wearing the neat dress of the army nurse, others much more elaborately attired—daughters of the neighborhood, probably, with a sprinkling of wives and sisters of the soldiery. Guards, leaning upon their muskets, stood in statuesque poses on either side of the main entrance, while the wide archway, draped with flags, opening into the ballroom, revealed an inspiring glimpse of swiftly revolving figures in gay uniforms and flashing skirts. Over all floated the low, swinging music of the band.
All this I noted as I paused irresolutely on the lower stair, wondering if I could safely walk directly out of that front door, ignoring the sentries by right of the uniform I wore, and thus attain the open air. The constant haunting fear of the early return of Sheridan and his aides, or a possible encounter with some former acquaintance in that crushing throng, almost decided me upon venturing the passage. But already I had hesitated too long. A fat, good-natured-looking man of forty, an infantry major, but wearing staff decorations, and evidently officiating in the capacity of floor-manager, after whispering a word in the ear of another of the same kind beside the ballroom door, hastily pushed his way through the laughing throng directly toward me.
“Good-evening, Colonel,” he said, bowing deeply. “Your face is not familiar to me, but you will permit me to introduce myself—Major Monsoon, of General Sheridan's staff.”
I accepted the fat, shapeless hand he extended, and pressed it warmly.
“I was just meditating a retreat, Major, when you appeared,” I replied frankly. “For I fear my face is equally unknown to all others present. Indeed, I feel like a cat in a strange garret, and hesitated to appear at all. My only excuse for doing so was a promise made Colonel Culbertson previous to his being ordered out on duty. I am Colonel Curran, of the Sixth Ohio, but at present serving on the staff of General Halleck at Washington.”
The Major's round, red face glowed with welcome.
“Extremely pleased to meet you, indeed,” he exclaimed eagerly, “and you may be sure of a most cordial greeting. Will you kindly step this way?”
As we slowly elbowed our way forward, all desire to escape from the ordeal fled, and I assumed the risks of the masquerade with the reckless audacity of my years. Before we reached the ballroom my conductor, his fat countenance fairly beaming with cordiality, had stopped at least twenty times to present me to various military titles, and I had accepted innumerable invitations without in the least knowing who gave them, or where they were to be fulfilled. Finally, however, we broke through the massed ring, and succeeded in reaching the tall individual in spectacles to whom the Major had spoken previous to seeking me, and I learned through the introduction which followed that I was in the presence of Brigadier-General Carlton, chief of staff.
For a moment, as I responded to the hearty cordiality of his welcome, I was enabled to take my first glance at the ballroom, and found it to my unaccustomed soldier eyes an inspiring spectacle. The room was magnificently large,—a surprising apartment, indeed, even in so superb a Southern home as this had evidently been, and its proportions were magnified by numerous mirrors extending from floor to ceiling, causing the more distant dancers to appear circling in space. Brilliantly illumined by means of hanging chandeliers that oscillated slightly to the merry feet; decorated lavishly everywhere with festooned flags and tastefully arranged munitions of war; gay with the dress uniforms of the men and the handsome gowns of the women, it composed a scene so different from any I had looked upon in years as to hold me fascinated. The constant clatter of tongues, the merry laughter, the flashing of bright eyes, and the gleam of snowy shoulders, the good-humored repartees caught as the various couples circled swiftly past, the quick, musical gliding of flying feet over the waxen floor, the continuous whirl of the intoxicating waltz, and over all the inspiring strains of Strauss, caused my heart to bound, and brought with it an insane desire to participate.
Yet gazing, entranced, upon the animated scene, and feeling deeply the intoxication of the moment, my eyes were eagerly searching that happy throng for sight of one fair woman's face. Strange as it must seem to others, in spite of the fact that to meet her might mean betrayal and death—ay! might even result in the destruction of an army—in my weakness I secretly longed for just such a happening; felt, indeed, that I must again see her, have speech with her, before I went forth alone into the manifold dangers of the night. It was foolhardiness,—insanity in very truth,—yet such was the secret yearning of my heart. If I could only once know, know from her own truthful lips, that she already belonged to another, I could, I believed, tear her image from my memory; but while I yet doubted (and in spite of all I had heard I doubted still), no desperate case should ever prevent my seeking her with all the mad ardor of love, no faintness of heart should intervene between us. That she was present I knew from those chance words overheard in the chimney, and my one deep hope ever since I donned that Federal uniform and ventured down the stairs (a hope most oddly mingled with dread) was that we might in some manner be brought together. I was yet vainly seeking a glimpse of her among the many who circled past, when I was suddenly recalled to the extreme delicacy of my situation by the deep voice of the Major asking me a direct question:
“Do you ever dance, Colonel?”
Exactly what I may have replied I know not, but it was evidently translated as an affirmative, for in another moment I was being piloted down the side of the long room, while he gossiped in my rather inattentive ear.
“As you have doubtless remarked, Colonel, we are extremely fortunate in our ladies to-night. By Jove, they would grace an inauguration ball at Washington. So many officers' wives have joined us lately, supposing we would make permanent camp here, and besides there are more loyal families in this neighborhood than we find usually. At least their loyalty is quite apparent while, we remain. Then the General Hospital nurses are not especially busy,—no battle lately, you know,—and there are some deuced pretty girls among them. Ballroom looks nice, don't you think?”
“Extremely well; the decorations are in most excellent taste.”
“Entirely the work of the staff. Great pity so many were compelled to be absent, but a soldier can never tell. Here upon special duty, Colonel?”
“I brought despatches from the President to General Sheridan.”
“Wish you might remain with us permanently. Your command, I believe, is not connected with our Eastern army?”
“No, with Thomas in the Cumberland.”
“Ah, yes; had some very pretty fighting out there, I understand—oh, pardon me, Miss Minor, permit me to present to you Colonel Curran, of General Halleck's staff. The Colonel, I believe, is as able a dancer as he is a soldier, and no higher compliment to his abilities could possibly be paid. Miss Minor, Colonel, is a native Virginian, who is present under protest, hoping doubtless to capture some young officer, and thus weaken the enemy.”
I bowed pleasantly to the bright-eyed young woman facing me, and not sorry to escape the Major's inquisitiveness, at once begged for the remainder of the waltz. The request was laughingly granted, and in another moment we were threading our way amid the numerous couples upon the floor. She proved so delightful a dancer that I simply yielded myself up to full enjoyment of the measure, and conversation lapsed, until a sudden cessation of the music left us stranded so close to the fireplace that the very sight of it brought a vivid realization of my perilous position. If it had not, my companion's chance remark most assuredly would.
“How easily you waltz!” she said enthusiastically, her sparkling eyes and flushed cheeks testifying to her keen enjoyment. “So many find me difficult to keep step with that I have become fearful of venturing upon the floor with a stranger. However, I shall always be glad to give you a character to any of my friends.”
“I sincerely thank you,” I returned in the same spirit, “and I can certainly return the compliment most heartily. It is so long since I was privileged to dance with a lady that I confess to having felt decidedly awkward at the start, but your step proved so accommodating that I became at once at home, and enjoyed the waltz immensely. I fail to discover any seats in the room, or I should endeavor to find one vacant for you.”
“Oh, I am not in the least tired.” She was looking at me with so deep an expression of interest in her eyes that I dimly wondered at it.
“Did I understand rightly,” she asked, playing idly with her fan, “that Major Monsoon introduced you to me as Colonel Curran of General Halleck's staff?”
What the deuce am I up against now? I thought, and my heart beat quickly. Yet retreat was impossible, and I answered with assumed carelessness:
“I am, most assuredly, Colonel Curran.”
“From Ohio?”
This was certainly coming after me with a vengeance, and I stole one quick glance at the girl's face. It was devoid of suspicion, merely evincing a polite interest.
“I have the honor of commanding the Sixth Artillery Regiment from that State.”
“You must pardon me, Colonel, for my seeming inquisitiveness,” and her eyes sparkled with demure mischief. “Yet I cannot quite understand. I was at school in Connecticut with a Miss Curran whose father was an officer of artillery from Ohio, and, naturally, I at once thought of her when the Major pronounced your name; yet it certainly cannot be you—you are altogether too young, for Myrtle must be eighteen.”
I laughed, decidedly relieved from what I feared might prove a most awkward situation.
“Well, yes, Miss Minor, I am indeed somewhat youthful to be Myrtle's father,” I said at a venture, “but I might serve as her brother, you know, and not stretch the point of age over-much.”
She clasped her hands on my arm with a gesture of delight.
“Oh, I am so glad; I knew Myrtle had a brother, but never heard he also was in the army. Did you know, Colonel, she was intending to come down here with me when I returned South, at the close of our school year, but from some cause was disappointed. How delighted she would have been to meet you! I shall certainly write and tell her what a splendidly romantic time we had together. You look so much like Myrtle I wonder I failed to recognize you at once.”
She was rattling on without affording me the slightest opportunity to slip in a word explanatory, when her glance chanced to fall upon some one who was approaching us through the throng.
“Oh, by the way, Colonel, there is another of Myrtle's old schoolmates present to-night—a most intimate friend, indeed, who would never forgive me if I permitted you to go without meeting her.”
She drew me back hastily.
“Edith,” she said, touching the sleeve of a young woman who was slowly passing, “Edith, wait just a moment, dear; this is Colonel Curran—Myrtle Curran's brother, you know. Colonel Curran, Mrs. Brennan.”
THE crucial moment had arrived, and I think my heart actually stopped beating as I stood gazing helplessly into her face. I saw her eyes open wide in astonished recognition, and then a deep flush swept over throat and cheek. For the instant I believed she would not speak, or that she would give way to her excitement and betray everything. I durst give no signal of warning, for there existed no tie between us to warrant my expecting any consideration from her. It was an instant so tense that her silence seemed like a blow. Yet it was only an instant. Then her eyes smiled into mine most frankly, and her hand was extended.
“I am more than delighted to meet you, Colonel Curran,” she said calmly, although I could feel her lips tremble to the words, while the fingers I held were like ice. “Myrtle was one of my dearest friends, and she chanced to be in my mind even as we met. That was why,” she added, turning toward Miss Minor, as though she felt her momentary agitation had not passed unobserved, “I was so surprised when you first presented Colonel Curran.”
“I confess to having felt strangely myself,” returned the other, archly, “although I believe I concealed my feelings far better than you did, Edith. Really, I thought you were going to faint. It must be that Colonel Curran exercises some strange occult influence over the weaker sex. Perhaps he is the seventh son of a seventh son; are you, Colonel? However, dear, I am safe for the present from his mysterious spell, and you will be compelled to face the danger alone, as here comes Lieutenant Hammersmith to claim the dance I've promised him.”
Before Mrs. Brennan could interfere, the laughing girl had placed her hand on the Lieutenant's blue sleeve, and, with a mocking good-bye flung backward over her shoulder, vanished in the crowd, leaving us standing there alone.
The lady waited in such apparent indifference, gently tapping the floor with her neatly shod foot, her eyes wandering carelessly over the throng in our front, that I felt utterly at sea. Evidently she had no intention of addressing me, yet I could not continue to stand there beside her in silence like a fool. That she possessed a pretty temper I already knew, but better a touch of that than this silent disdain.
“Would you be exceedingly angry if I were to ask you to dance?” I questioned, stealing surreptitiously a glance at her proudly averted face.
“Angry? Most assuredly not,” in apparent surprise. “Yet I trust you will not ask me. I have been upon the floor only once to-night. I am not at all in the mood.”
The words were not encouraging, yet they served to break the ice, and I was never easily daunted.
“If there were chairs here I should venture to ask even a greater favor—that you would consent to sit out this set with me.”
She turned slightly, lifted her eyes inquiringly to mine, and her face lightened.
“No doubt we might discover seats without difficulty, in the anteroom,” she answered, indicating the direction by a glance. “There do not appear to be many 'sitters-out' at this ball, and the few who do are not crowded.”
If the pendulum of hope and despair swings one way, the unalterable laws of mental gravitation compel it to go just as far the other, and although I do not remember uttering so much as a word while we traversed the crowded floor and gained entrance to the smaller room beyond, yet my heart was singing a song of the deepest hope. The apartment contained, as she prophesied, but few occupants, and I conducted her to the farther end of it, where we found a comfortable divan and no troublesome neighbors.
As I glanced at her now, I marked a distinct change in her face. The old indifference, so well assumed while we were in the presence of others, had utterly vanished as by magic, and she sat looking at me in anxious yet impetuous questioning.
“Captain Wayne,” she exclaimed, her eyes never once leaving my face, “what does this mean? this masquerade? this wearing of the Federal uniform? this taking of another's name? this being here at all?”
“If I should say that I came hoping to see you again,” I answered, scarce knowing how best to proceed or how far to put confidence in her, “what would you think?”
The color flamed quickly into her cheeks, but the clear eyes never faltered. They seemed to read my very soul.
“If that is true, that you were extremely foolish to take such a risk for so small a reward,” she returned calmly. “Nor, under these circumstances, would I remain here so much as a moment to encourage you. But it is not true. This is no light act; your very life must lie in the balance, or you could never assume such risk. Doubtless you hesitate to trust me fully, but I assure you you need not, for you have placed me under certain personal obligations which I have no desire to ignore. Captain Wayne, you are in trouble, in danger—will you not tell me all, and permit me to aid you by every means in my power?”
“I would trust you gladly with my life or my honor,” I replied soberly. “If I had less faith in you I should not be here now.”
She started slightly at the words, and for an instant her eyes fell. “Your life?” she questioned, “do you mean that is in the balance?”
“I understand that I am condemned to be shot as a spy at daybreak.”
“Shot? On what authority? Who told you?”
“On the order of General Sheridan. My informant was Lieutenant Caton, of his staff.”
“Shot? As a spy? Why, it surely cannot be! Frank said—Captain Wayne, believe me, I knew absolutely nothing of all this. Do not think I should ever have rested if I had dreamed that you were held under so false a charge. I promised you I would see General Sheridan on your behalf.”
“Yes,” I assented hastily, for her agitation was so great I feared it might attract the attention of others. “I remember you said so at the time of my arrest, but supposed you had either forgotten or had found your intercession fruitless.”
“Why, how you must have despised me! Forgotten?”—her eyes filled instantly with tears. “Not for an hour, Captain Wayne, but Frank—” she bit her lip impatiently—“I was told, that is, I was led to believe that you were—had been sent North as a prisoner of war late last night. Otherwise I should have insisted upon seeing you—on pleading your cause with the General himself. The Major and I breakfasted with him this morning, but your name was not mentioned, for I believed you safe.”
She did not appear to realize, so deep was her present indignation and regret, that my hand had found a resting-place upon her own.
“You must believe me, Captain Wayne; I could not bear to have you feel that I could prove such an ingrate.”
“You need never suppose I should think that,” I replied, with an earnestness of manner that caused her to glance at me in surprise. “I confidently expected to hear from you all day, and finally when no word came I became convinced some such misconception as you have mentioned must have occurred. Then it became my turn to act upon my own behalf if I would preserve my life; yet never for one moment have I doubted you or the sincerity of your pledge to me.”
She drew her hand away from my clasp, gently and not unkindly, then passed it through the masses of her dark, shining hair, but her face remained turned aside from me. Oh, how I longed at that moment to pour forth in fervent words the affection that burned within my heart! But irrespective of the doubt as to her being free to listen to such a declaration, there was a pride about her manner, a certain restraint which she ever seemed to exercise over me, that effectually sealed my lips. Her very presence was a moral tonic, and I felt it would be easier to tear out my tongue than to utter anything which she could construe into possible insult. The very depth of her perfect womanhood was itself protection, and, until the veil was finally lifted, my lips were vowed to silence.
She waited quietly while a couple passed us and sought seats nearer the door.
“Tell me the entire story,” she said gently.
As quickly as possible I reviewed the salient events which had occurred since our last meeting. Without denying the presence of Major Brennan during my stormy meeting with General Sheridan, I did not dwell upon it, nor mention the personal affray that had occurred between us. Even had I not supposed the man to be her husband I should never have taken advantage of his treachery to advance my own cause. God knows I have enough failings to account for, but I have never done my fighting in the dark. Neither did I speak of the information I now sought to bring to Lee, for her sympathy, her interest, her loyalty, were all with the opposing army. She followed my narrative eagerly, her eyes growing darker with intensity of interest as I depicted our eventful climb up the black chimney, and my venture down the stairs into the crowded ballroom. As I concluded there was a tear glistening on her long lashes, but she seemed unconscious of it, and made no attempt to dash it away.
“You have not told me all,” she commented quietly. “But I can understand and appreciate the reason for your silence. I know Frank's impetuosity, and you are very kind, Captain Wayne, to spare my feelings, but you must not remain here; every moment of delay increases your danger. Sheridan and those of his staff who would surely recognize you were expected back before this, and may appear at any moment—yet how can you get away? how is it possible for me to assist you?”
There was an eager anxiety in her face that piqued me. Like most lovers I chose to give it a wrong interpretation.
“You are anxious to be rid of me?” I asked, ashamed of the words even as I uttered them.
“That remark is unworthy of you,” and she arose to her feet almost haughtily. “My sole thought in this is the terrible risk you incur in remaining here.”
“Your interest then is personal to me, may I believe?”
“I am a loyal woman,” proudly, “and would do nothing whatever to imperil the cause of my country; but your condemnation is unjust, and I am, in a measure, responsible for it. I assist you, Captain Wayne, for your own sake, and in response to my individual sense of honor.”
God knows I could not speak, although my heart seemed bursting within my bosom. By sheer power of her will, her pride, her perfect womanhood, she held me from her as though a wall divided us. Not for an instant did she permit me to forget that she was the wife of another.
“Have you formulated any plan?” she asked quickly, and her rising color made me feel that she had deciphered my struggle in my eyes.
“Only to walk out under protection of this uniform, and when once safe in the open to trust that same good fortune which has thus far befriended me.”
She shook her head doubtfully, and stood a moment in silence, looking thoughtfully at the moving figures in the room beyond.
“I fear it cannot be done without arousing suspicion,” she said at last, slowly. “I chance to know there are unusual precautions being taken to-night, and the entire camp is doubly patrolled. Even this house has a cordon of guards about it, but for what reason I have not learned. No,” she spoke decisively, “there is no other way. Captain Wayne, I am going to try to save you to-night, but in doing so I must trust my reputation in your keeping.”
“I will protect it with my life.”
“Protect it with your silence, rather. I know you to be a gentleman, or I should never attempt to carry out the only means of escape which seems at all feasible. Discovery would place me in an extremely embarrassing position, and I must rely upon you to protect me from such a possibility.”
“I beg you,” I began, “do not compromise yourself in any way for my sake.”
“But I am myself already deeply involved in this,” she interrupted, “and I could retain no peace of mind were I to do otherwise. Now listen. Make your way back to the ballroom, and in fifteen minutes from now be engaged in conversation with General Carlton near the main entrance. I shall join you there, and you will take your cue from me. You understand?”
“Perfectly, but—”
“There is no 'but,' Captain Wayne, only do not fail me.”
Our eyes met for an instant; what she read in mine God knows—in hers was determination, with a daring strange to woman. The next moment she had vanished through a side door, and I was alone.