As the heavy door clanged behind us some one upon the outside began pounding upon it, while with deadly chug a bullet crashed into the oaken panel.
“Donnerwetter!” shouted a deep voice, wildly. “Captain, I am yet out mit der bullets.”
With a crash I flung aside the thick iron bar which answered as a lock, and drew in the Sergeant, yet panting heavily from his hard run.
“By Chiminy, dot vas a narrow squeak,” he exclaimed, as I released my grasp upon him and hurled the door back into its place.
A dim light swinging suspended from the ceiling of the great wide hall revealed clearly the scene within. As I turned I beheld Brennan for the first time, and his face remains a memory. Standing with his back to the stair-railing, a revolver grasped tightly in either hand, his eyes burning, his countenance flushed with anger, and clouded by doubt, he appeared almost like one distracted. At sight of me he gave up all attempt to control his raging temper.
“What does all this mean?” he demanded hoarsely. “Who are these men? Caton, if you have betrayed us, by God, I will shoot you dead.”
“There is no betrayal,” returned the Lieutenant, coolly. “These men are friends.”
“Friends?” he laughed cynically. “Friends? in that uniform, and you attired in a Rebel cavalry jacket? Friends? that fellow over there?” and he pointed derisively at me with his pistol barrel. “Damn you, but I believe you are all a pack of lying thieves!”
Caton's face burned. He took one step toward him, his hands clinched, and when he spoke his clear voice shook with intense indignation.
“Major Brennan,” he said, coldly deliberate, “you are my superior officer, but you go beyond all privilege of rank in those words. I say these men are friends; they have sunk the issues of war in order that they may answer the call of humanity. If you dare impeach my motives any further, I shall hurl back the cowardly insult in your face. I will take no such words, sir, from any living man.”
Brennan looked at him, his lips struggling with the utterance that would not come. Knowing well the danger of such delay, I hastily pushed aside the ring of men, and fronted him, determined to end this foolishness then and there.
“Major Brennan,” I said firmly, ignoring his efforts to silence me, “you must listen to reason whether you wish to do so or not. My troopers are all around you; I have two men to your one in this house, and can enforce my will if necessary. Now mark what I say—we are not here in anger or in war, but to help you in the protection of endangered women. We captured your courier, have despatched one of our own number into the Federal camp for aid, and have fought our way in here to stand beside you and your men in defence of this house against those ruffians without. You can use us or not, just as you please; it rests with you to say whether we shall be comrades in arms on this occasion, or whether I shall assume command by the power of force which I chance to control.”
He seemed utterly unable to grasp my full meaning, to comprehend the situation.
“You mean, you would fight with us? under my command?” he asked incredulously.
“I offer my services under your orders,” I replied clearly, “and these men in gray will obey mine.”
I actually thought he would extend his hand, but some remembrance suddenly restrained him.
“I—of course, Captain Wayne,” he stammered, at length, “I—I must accept your offer. I—I am grateful for it, but I shall insist upon one thing; there must be a final settlement of the personal matter existing between us. I am not willing to waive my rights in this.”
“There is no occasion for your doing so, sir,” I answered coldly, for I considered the reference at that moment in extremely ill taste. “When our work here has been accomplished, you will find me very much at your service.”
He bowed gravely.
“I am exceedingly glad we understand each other,” he said. “May I ask the size of your command?”
“Sergeant,” I questioned, “whom have we lost?”
“Nelson vos kilt, I dinks; der Kid is not here yet, und Sands vos vounded bad.”
“Very well; then, Major Brennan, I tender you sixteen men fit for duty, besides myself. You are doubtless acquainted with the house, and can assign us to positions where our services will prove of greatest value.”
He had completely recovered his self-control by this time, and spoke now with the terse sentences of a tried soldier.
“I thank you, Captain Wayne, and will ask you to choose four men and assume command of the east side of the house. Caton, you will take the same number for defence of the rear. Captain, what is your sergeant's name?”
“Ebers, an experienced German soldier.”
“I should have suspected his nationality. Let him have command of four more, and cover the west windows. I shall defend the front myself, as I have been doing.”
“Very well,” I answered shortly, for his eyes had remained fixed upon me all the time he was talking. “Take the positions assigned you, lads, and do not permit a man from without to put foot on the veranda. If they once succeed in getting under cover of the porch roof, they will give us plenty of trouble.”
“They have remained remarkably quiet since you came in,” interposed the Major. “Even my men seem to see nothing to shoot at.”
“Probably they haven't recovered as yet from our little surprise party,” I said, with a smile of remembrance. “We left a mule out there who will entertain them for some time, unless they adopt heroic measures.”
The position for defence assigned to my care took me into the dining-room of the mansion,—a spacious, almost square apartment, containing three large windows reaching nearly to the floor. The outside blinds had been closed, but the glass in the panes was mostly broken, and there were other evidences that the firing had been both heavy and continuous. I found two soldiers of Brennan's party within, both lying upon the floor, and peering cautiously through the apertures of the blinds. They glanced up at us with undisguised amazement.
“It's all right, lads,” I said heartily. “Never mind our colors to-night; we are all fighting the same way.”
I had taken with me Bungay, together with three of my troopers, and after placing them as advantageously as possible, I stretched myself out on the floor, and applying an eye to a convenient opening took careful survey of the situation without. There was little to be observed, for darkness securely hid the movements of the enemy. Everything upon our side of the house, however, appeared comparatively quiet, yet it was clearly evident that the besiegers had no present intention of withdrawing from the attack; the flame of the stables had already largely died away, but what little light remained enabled me to perceive unmistakable signs of their presence. I could distinguish frequent moving figures in the background, but was unable to determine their distance from the house. Occasionally a flash out of the night would evidence the discharge of a gun, and I heard a gruff voice shouting forth an order. One shot struck the window just above me, showering my shoulders with fragments of broken glass, and I noticed one of the Federal soldiers in the room carried his arm in a rude sling.
This present cessation of activity was, I felt convinced, only temporary. I did not expect, from all I could now see, that the final assault would take place upon my side of the building. The massing of the main body of the besiegers before the front entrance, together with the presence there of their leaders, was sufficient to convince me that this was to prove the principal point of attack, and from my knowledge of such affairs I decided that probably the first signs of returning daylight would be the signal for a determined assault. The dark interior of such a house as this offered too many defensive advantages which the daylight would largely overcome.
“Have you had some hard fighting?” I asked of the man lying next me, a manly-looking fellow, wearing the yellow chevrons of a corporal of cavalry.
“They pitched in mighty strong at first, sir,” he answered civilly. “An' we had so few men they pretty nearly rushed us, fer sure. It was our repeatin' rifles thet drove 'em back.”
“You suffered to some extent?”
“Two killed, sir, and three or four wounded. It wus hot 'nough fer a while, I tell you; as lively a little jig as I've ever bin in. McNeal, there, got a lump of lead in his arm. Would you mind explainin' 'bout you fellows comin' in here to help us, sir? It seems kinder odd to be fightin' longside of gray-backs.”
I told him briefly the circumstances, and his eyes danced merrily at the recital.
“Be a rum story to tell if ever we get out of here, sir,” he commented, patting his gun. “I've mostly seen you fellows from the t'other side, but, dern it all, this is more the way it ought to be.”
I agreed with him thoroughly as to that, and we relapsed into silence, each intent upon the uncertainty without.
As I lay there, gazing anxiously into the darkness, I could not forbear wondering where Brennan had concealed the women to keep them from harm. Would he inform them of our arrival? He could scarcely hope to keep the fact long hidden, for they would certainly see some of my gray-jackets, and ask questions. I doubted, however, if he would mention my name, yet Caton surely would, and Caton could not be kept long away from Miss Minor, unless serious attack was imminent. Unquestionably, I should be compelled to meet them before this duty was concluded; how should I be received, and how should I conduct myself? There was but one way—a dignified courtesy, seemingly ignoring all that had previously occurred. Any explanation at present was apparently out of the question, and I certainly could not venture to intrude after the coldness of my last reception. Besides, there was Brennan to be considered. He would make use of my services in this emergency, but I had been distinctly informed it could make no difference in the feud existing between us. I had no wish that it should, and I could consistently hope for very little consideration from the wife of a man whom I was destined to meet upon the field of honor. No, the far better way was to see as little of her as possible, to meet almost as strangers, and then to part for ever. Difficult as this programme assuredly was, it seemed the only honorable course left me. Even had she loved me as truly as I did her, I could yet do no less.
“They seem to be peckin' away pretty lively out in front,” said the corporal, interrupting my reverie.
“Yes,” I admitted. “In my judgment that will prove the main point of attack. How many men did the Major have there before we came?”
“Same as here, sir.”
“And four of mine; that makes seven altogether, counting himself, and two of these ought to be posted in the upper story. He's bound to need more; that firing is very steady.”
“He's got the women loadin' for him, and that helps some.”
“The women?” I asked, staring at him in amazement, “Do you mean to say Mrs. Brennan and Celia Minor are there in that front room?”
“Don't know who they are, sir—two mighty fine lookin' young ladies, an old lady with white hair, an' a big, rough-lookin' female, sir. The last one wus handlin' a gun to beat the band just afore you came.”
“And he keeps them there, exposed to all this heavy fire? What can the man mean? Why, Corporal, that constant shooting must have completely shattered the windows. There could be no safety for any one except lying flat upon the floor.”
“Well, 't aint quite so bad as that, sir,” he protested, seemingly anxious to shield his officer from adverse criticism. “You see it's a double parlor, with a wall an' foldin' doors atween, an' the women are all in the rear room. Of course, it's almighty dark back there, an' they has to lie pretty close, but blamed if I know of any better place for them. This house hain't got no cellar.”
It certainly was not my place to interfere. Her husband was the one who should be most solicitous as to her safety, yet it worried me greatly to think of Edith Brennan lying helpless in the dark, exposed to constant danger, with the deadly rifles crackling all about her. Surely somewhere in this great house there would be an interior apartment where greater protection could be assured. Doubtless Brennan was unwilling to have them away from him; possibly he even continued to hold them where they were to prevent all possibility of their meeting with me. It was this last thought, improbable as it surely was, which put me on my mettle. If that was has little scheme, and to my suspicion it looked like it, I was not unwilling to play a hand in the game. I might not hold trumps, yet I could bluff as well as any one.
I had barely arrived at this point in my musing when opportunity for action came. A man groped his way in from the lighted hall, but halted close beside the door, unable to perceive us in the darkness.
“Is Captain Wayne here?” he asked.
“Yes; what is it?”
“Major Brennan has had two of his men hit, sir, and wishes you to spare him three of yours, unless you are hotly pressed.”
“All right; there 's nothing doing here,” I answered, instantly determining upon my course. “Corporal, I shall leave you in command of this side for a few minutes. I believe I can be of more immediate value elsewhere, Bungay, you and Elliott come with me.”
The lower hall, having no windows in it, was the only safe place in the building, and here a light had been kept burning. The door which, as I judged, must lead into the back parlor, was closed, and fastened upon the inside. At least it refused to yield to my hand when tried. Another in front stood very slightly ajar.
“Report to Brennan,” I whispered into Jed's ear, “and forget to mention I am with you. I desire to investigate matters for myself a few moments.”
He nodded to intimate that he understood, and then we crept, one at a time, into the front apartment, hugging the floor closely to keep beneath the range of the bullets which swept every now and then through the broken windows, and chugged into the wall behind us. I was the last to wriggle in through the narrow opening, and rolling instantly out of the tiny bar of light, I lay silent for a moment, endeavoring to get my bearings. I was determined upon just one thing—to obtain speech with the women, learn, if possible, their exact situation, and, if I found it necessary, insist upon their better protection. An insane jealousy of me should not continue to expose them to unnecessary peril.
Brennan was directly across the room from where I lay. I could hear his voice issuing low, stern orders.
“If you'll only keep down you're safe enough,” he said gruffly. “There hasn't a shot come within a foot of the sill. The ground slopes out yonder, and those fellows can't fire low. Put the new men at the central window, and let them shoot at every flash they see. Bradley will pass back their empty guns.”
I wondered how long our supply of ammunition would hold out with such a fusillade kept up, but ventured upon no protest, for I was already groping my way through the darkness along the inner wall. Furniture lay overturned in every direction, and I experienced considerable difficulty in making progress through the debris without attracting attention. A great square piano stood directly across the entrance to the back parlor, left by the drawing nearly together of the sliding doors. I waited until Bradley had crawled through with an armful of loaded guns, and then entered also, creeping silently between the piano legs. As I did so a bullet struck the case above me, and the whole instrument trembled to the impact, giving forth a strange moan, as if in pain.
Some one was groaning in the corner at my left, and supposing the wounded to be lying there, I turned more toward the right, keeping as close as possible to the wall, hopeful I might come in contact with one of the women. I do not honestly know why I did this—really I had no excuse, except my natural distrust of Brennan, coupled with an eager desire to be of service to the woman of my heart. There was little to guide me in the search, as the flame of the discharging rifles did not penetrate here. Once I heard the rustle of a skirt, while a faint sound of whispering reached me from the rear of the room. Then my hand, groping blindly along the wall, touched the lower fold of a dress. It felt like coarse calico to my fingers.
“Mrs. Bungay,” I whispered cautiously, “is this you?”
The woman started at sound of my voice, but replied in the same low tone: “Thet's my name; who mought ye be?”
“A friend of yours, and of your husband,” I answered, for I doubted if she would recall my name. “Did you know Jed was here?”
“My man? Hiven be praised! But I'll knock ther head off ther little divil if ever I git my hand on him, I will thet. Whar's ther little imp bin all ther time?”
“Hunting for you, and crying his eyes out,” I answered, smiling to myself in the darkness. “Where is Mrs. Brennan?”
“Jist beyond me, thar in ther corner.”
As she spoke a bullet whizzed past us, having missed the obstruction of the piano. I could feel the wind stirred by its passage, while its peculiar hum told me it was a Minié ball.
“You are too far out from the wall,” I protested. “You are in range.”
“Can't help it if I be. I 'm yere ter take ther guns from ther sojer, an' pass 'em back.”
I crept slowly along beyond her, keeping close to the wall, but had progressed hardly more than a couple of yards, when I felt a hand lightly touch me.
“I recognize your voice,” said a soft whisper, “and am so glad you are here.”
Who can guess the motives that inspire a woman? This was my welcome, where I had anticipated coldness and repellant pride.
In my extreme surprise at the intimate cordiality expressed by her words and manner I failed in utterance. Anticipating coldness, indifference, possibly even resentment at my presuming to approach her, I was instead greeted by an unstudied warmth of welcome that made my heart beat fiercely.
“Surely I am not mistaken,” she questioned, rendered doubtful by my silence. “Is not this Captain Wayne?”
“There is no mistake,” I hastened to assure her, “but I had anticipated from our last meeting a far less cordial greeting.”
“Oh,” she exclaimed, with a light laugh, “and is that all? Yet surely, if I was to believe my own eyes I was perfectly justified in my actions then. However, Captain, I have been forced to realize the truth of that situation, and am now disposed to make up to you in kindness for all my unjust suspicions.”
“I am more than delighted to learn that cloud is no longer to overshadow us. Miss Minor has made a full explanation, then?”
“You have been completely exonerated, and restored to my good graces.”
As she spoke, I became aware that she was busily engaged upon some task, and when she ended I felt the steel of a gun-barrel touch my hand.
“Please pass this to Maria,” she said calmly, “and hand me back the one she has.”
“You are loading, then?” I asked, as I complied with her request.
“We have all been busy. Isn't it terrible? I was so frightened at first, but now they tell me that you and your men have come, there is no longer danger of those horrible creatures getting in here.”
“You knew, then, that I was in the house?”
“I was told some noble Confederates had accompanied Lieutenant Caton back to aid us, but your name was not mentioned.”
“Then my appearance must have proven a complete surprise?”
“Yes, and no,” she answered frankly. “I was not sure it was you, of course, and I did not venture to ask, but I knew you were in the neighborhood, and that such an act would be in every way characteristic. I was certain you would come if you knew, and I—I, well really, I hoped it was.”
In spite of a slight effort at restraint I groped in the darkness until I touched her hand. For the moment she permitted me to retain it, as if unconsciously, within my grasp.
“Why?” I questioned, scarcely relying upon my own voice.
“Oh, one always trusts friends more readily than strangers, and I have seen you in danger before, and possess such confidence in your courage and resource.”
“But Miss Minor took particular care to inform me you felt little or no interest in me—that you never even spoke of me except as she compelled you to do so.”
For a moment she did not answer, and then with a light laugh said: “Did she, really? How very kind of her, and how extremely intimate you must have become to draw forth so frank a confession. However, Captain Wayne, you must not give credence to all you hear about me, even from Celia. You know one does not usually give public expression to one's more secret thoughts, and I can assure you I have always been most deeply interested whenever you were the subject of our conversations.”
“Her words made me feel I might be an intruder on your privacy.”
“You are never that. Cold as I appeared only a few hours ago, I was yet thinking of you as I entered the arbor. Perhaps that was why the sight meeting my eyes proved such a shock.”
Possibly she felt our conversation growing dangerously intimate, for in the silence which ensued she gently withdrew her hand. As she did so my fingers chanced to touch the plain gold ring she wore. It was like a dash of water in my face, and instantly brought back to me our common danger.
“How constant the firing continues,” she said at last, as I sat struggling dumbly with temptation.
“A mere waste of powder, I fear,” was my reply, given thoughtlessly. “When the rush finally comes we are likely to be without sufficient ammunition to repel it.”
“When the rush comes?” she echoed in startled tone. “Do you expect an assault?”
“I hardly expect those fellows out there will ever leave without a most determined effort to carry the house by storm. They are here for plunder, and will not be baffled easily, nor will the leaders hesitate to sacrifice any number of lives to gain their end, especially now that a desire for revenge has been added to the original lust for spoils. I have been among them, you know, and learned enough of their power, organization, and leadership to convince me they will never raise the siege until they exhaust every resource. I have no doubt they are simply drawing all this fire in the hope that our ammunition will thus be uselessly expended. It is an old army trick, and one I am surprised to see so experienced an officer as Major Brennan yield to. In my judgment they will make an effort to rush us as soon as there is sufficient light.”
“But why not warn him?”
I smiled to myself at the naive question. Surely it could not be possible she remained ignorant of the feud existing between us. She had twice witnessed our hostile meetings, and certainly could not forget how we had last parted.
“Major Brennan would scarcely welcome any interference on my part.”
“But surely, as a soldier, he must value the advice of another soldier?”
“Possibly you forget,” I explained, striving to speak as lightly of it as might be, “that there is a lack of friendship between Major Brennan and myself.”
“Still?” she asked. “Truly I thought that might all be over. Even if it survived until now, this noble act of yours in coming to our defence should have earned you his gratitude. He—he has never once mentioned your name to me since that night.”
“Not even when I came here with my troop, I believe?”
“No; yet I did not connect that fact with the other. I supposed it a mere oversight, or that he believed the mention of your name would not greatly interest me. Surely, Captain Wayne, you are not keeping open this unhappy wound?”
“On my word, no; but I regret to confess it is very far from being closed.”
“He—Major Brennan does not know, then, that you are here now with me?” She evidently hesitated to ask this question.
“Certainly not,” in surprise at her apparent innocence. “You cannot have supposed I had been sent here by him to talk with you?”
“I—I did not know. I do not think I realized,” she stammered, vainly seeking for words with which to make clear her bewilderment. “I imagined you might have come at his suggestion to see that we were amply protected. This is all so very strange. He does not even know you are here with us?”
“No,” I admitted reluctantly. “Perhaps I have no excuse even for being here at all. My duty as a soldier is certainly elsewhere, but I could not rest content until I knew you were in a position of safety. Believe me, Mrs. Brennan, I have intended no indiscretion, but I was informed by a soldier that you were being held here under fire. It would have been useless for me to appeal to the Major for information, and I felt I must know the truth. If I have erred in this I can only plead the deep interest I have always had in your welfare.”
Her hand touched mine impulsively, and it was warm and throbbing.
“I can merely thank you with all my heart, Captain Wayne, and assure you I both understand and appreciate your purpose. But truly I do not wish any trouble to occur again—you will go back to your post, will you not? You can serve me best in that way, and retain the gratitude and admiration I have ever felt for you.”
There was a pathetic pleading in her voice, low as she spoke, impossible to resist. It made me feel thoroughly ashamed of my impulsive, ill-considered action.
“At once, Mrs. Brennan,” I returned earnestly. “I realize I have done wrong in ever coming here as I have. It is my first act of disobedience to orders in all my military life. But tell me first that I have forfeited neither your confidence nor your friendship?”
Her warm hand closed frankly over mine, and as I bent above it her hair softly brushed my cheek.
“You have not,” she answered, so soft and low I could barely catch the words. “I appreciate your motive, and shall always respect and honor you.” She paused a moment, then added quickly, as though in sudden rush of feeling: “No friend stands higher in my esteem than you—now please go, Captain Wayne.”
As I crept back through the darkness, passing beneath the piano into the front room, which was filled with the choking fumes of powder, my mind was a chaos of emotions impossible to analyze. The touch of her soft hand was yet warm upon me, and her manner as well as her words caused my blood to leap riotously in my veins. What did this woman mean? Was it possible she loved me, and was fighting, even as I, to conquer a passion that could never be realized? which had no right to exist? Surely, young and fair as she was, she could be no vain and shallow coquette, venturing upon flirtation for the mere excitement of it? The calm self-possession of her nature, her marked pride and strength of character, stamped this as impossible. Honesty and pure, true womanhood were woven into her every word and act; that indefinable something which all men feel and respect was about her like an atmosphere; to doubt her for an instant was beyond my power. Yet she had made me feel I was more to her than a mere friend. I longed to go back, to pour forth those words I had struggled so hard not to speak, to urge the high law of mutual love as final arbiter of our destiny—but no! I simply could not. Honor chained me, and the depth of my respect would never permit of her humiliation. If she had become weak, all the more reason why I should remain strong. The very depth of love which drew me to her operated now in restraint. God alone knows the struggle in the darkness as I continued to move slowly away from her and toward the door.
So deep indeed was my agitation, so intense my thought, that I scarcely realized I was creeping along barely beneath the dead line of those bullets which constantly swept the apartment. Their crashing into the wall was almost meaningless, and I barely noted either the dense smoke or the fitful flashes of flame as the little garrison returned shot for shot. It was Brennan's voice—how hateful it sounded then—which recalled my attention.
“Mapes,” he said, with the sharp tone of wearied command, “take a crack at that fellow over yonder by the big tree; he must be in range. You men, I verily believe, shut your eyes when you shoot, for there hasn't a man dropped out there in the last half hour.”
I had reached the door by this time, but paused now, determined to venture one word of expostulation at his recklessness.
“Major Brennan,” I said, speaking sufficiently loud to be audible above the uproar, “do you not think they will attempt to charge the house?”
“Not while we keep up this fire,” he returned coldly, evidently recognizing my voice.
“I grant that, at least while darkness lasts. But you have just complained that your men were doing but small execution, and is there not danger of exhausting our stock of ammunition by such a useless fusillade?”
“It will last until our fellows get here—that is, if your man was ever really sent for aid, as you say.”
There was a thinly veiled sneer in the words as he spoke them, but I curbed my temper.
“Well, in my judgment, sir,—and I tell it you because I deem it a duty,—” I retorted plainly, “you are making a grave mistake which you may realize when it becomes too late to rectify it. Possibly I have no right to criticise one who is technically in command; yet I am serving as a volunteer, and the conditions are peculiar. I not only remember the scene witnessed by me in the lines out yonder, but also recall the fact that we are here to fulfil a sacred duty—the defence of helpless women from outrage. A fatal mistake upon our part would be horrible.”
“Your deep interest in the welfare of the ladies is purely chivalric, I presume?”
“It is merely the interest a true soldier must always feel,” I responded, determined not to be goaded into quarrel. “I have neither wife nor sister, but I have a mother.”
“Very well, sir,”—and his tone was rough and overbearing,—“then kindly recall your soldierly instincts to another little matter. I chance to command here by authority of rank, and hold myself responsible for the proper defence of this portion of the house. I believe you have already been assigned your duties; if you will attend to them I shall be greatly obliged, and whenever I may desire your valuable advice I shall take pleasure in sending for you.”
I have often wondered since how I controlled myself; yet I did, biting my lip till the blood came, a fair, reproachful face ever before my eyes.
“I shall obey your orders,” I managed to say with calmness, so soon as I could control my voice to speak at all, “but shall hold myself, and my men, prepared for a call here at any moment.”
“As you please,” with an ill-suppressed sneer. “I have always found you exceedingly anxious to be with the ladies. Indeed I have wondered if you might not prove a modern illustration of that ancient worthy 'whose best boast was but to wear a braid of his fair lady's hair.'”
I turned away in silence and strode back to my post, white with anger. The dining-room remained as I had left it, and when I lay down in my old position and peered out throught the broken blind, I could mark no change in the appearance of our besiegers.
I have never been willing to believe I slept during the next hour. Wearied as I have often been, duty has ever held my eyes wide open, and I prefer to think I merely plunged so deep in reflection as to become oblivious of all occurring about me. Surely I had sufficient excuse.
However this may be, when I once again aroused to observe my surroundings, the faint gray light of early dawn rested upon the outside world, and through the fleeting shadows of the mist I was able to distinguish much which before had been shrouded by the black curtain. In front of the window where I rested, the grass-covered lawn sloped gradually downward until it terminated at a low picket fence, thickly covered with vines. A great variety of shrubs, which during the night had doubtless afforded shelter for sharpshooters, dotted this grass plot, while beyond the fence boundary stood a double row of large trees. To the far left of our position the burnt stable yet smouldered dully, occasionally sending up a shower of sparks as a draught of air fanned the embers, but there were few signs of life visible. For the moment I even hoped our enemies might have grown discouraged and withdrawn.
“What has become of the guerillas?” I asked in wonderment, turning as I spoke to face the Federal corporal who lay on the other side of me. “Is it possible they have given up?”
“I think not, Captain,” he replied respectfully, saluting as he would one of his own officers. “They were there just before the light came, and I saw a dozen or more stealing along behind the fence not five minutes ago. See, there is a squad of them now, huddled together back of where the stable stood.”
I noticed them as he spoke, and their movements instantly aroused my suspicion.
“Screw your eye close to the corner of the pane,” I ordered hurriedly, “and see what you make out toward the front of the house.”
He did as directed, and for a moment continued to gaze silently into the gray dawn.
“Well?” I asked impatiently.
“There's men out there sure, plenty of 'em,” he reported slowly. “It looks to me mighty like the end of a line of battle, right there by that big magnolia-tree. Anyhow, there must be all of twenty fellows lying close together between there and where the corner of the house shuts off my view. I don't see none this side anywhere, unless it's a shooter or two hiding along the fence where the vines are thick.”
“That's it, my lad,” I exclaimed heartily, getting upon my feet as I spoke. “We can stand up now, there's no danger here, but there will be music for all of us presently. Those fellows are getting ready to charge us front and rear.”
There were five in the room. I could see them only indistinctly, as the morning light was not yet sufficiently strong to penetrate clearly to where we were, but I was able to note those present—the corporal and his wounded companion, with Hollis and Call of my troop.
“Let the wounded man remain and guard these windows,” I commanded. “He would prove of small value in a hand to hand struggle, but can probably do some shooting. The rest come with me.”
I led them forth into the wide hallway, which extended the full length of the house, with a broad flight of stairs just forward of the centre, gradually curving and leading to the second story.
I was fully determined as to my duty—whether orders reached me or not, the moment an assault was launched I should throw all the force I commanded beside Brennan, and between our assailants and the imperilled women. The suspended light was yet burning as we came out, but flickered wildly as if in a strong draught of air, and I noticed that the constant rain of bullets during the night had badly splintered an upper panel of the door. Halfway down the broad hallway, and partially obscured by the turn of the stairs, a door stood slightly ajar upon the right hand. Conjecturing this might be where the defenders of the eastern exposure were lying, I peered within. The blinds were tightly drawn and I was able to perceive little of its interior, excepting that the walls were lined with books.
“Ebers,” I called, thinking he must be there, “are you in charge here?”
“I vos, Captain,” came the instant reply, and he at once emerged from the darkness, his honest face full of interest. “Is it der preakfast vot is already?”
“Hardly, my man. I imagine we may enjoy a fight first, to give us better appetites.”
“Mein Gott, but I am vurnished mit der abbetite already. I vould fight mit more fun if I vos full.”
“So no doubt would all of us; but I have no time for mere talk. Did you meet with any trouble during the night?”
“Troubles? By Chiminy, yes, Captain, I vos hongry for six hour. I have took der belt oop dree time already, an' I vos empty yet. Troubles? Donnerwetter, it is all troubles.”
“Not that,” sternly. “I mean, have the enemy kept you busy?”
“Der vos some shooting, und Hadley he got hurt bad, but der fellers is all gone. Dis is der right time to eat in der bantry, ain't it?”
“Bring your men fit for duty out here in the hall, and have them join my party,” I said, ignoring his pathetic appeal. “How many have you?”
“Der is four, und, Captain, dey vos most as veak as I am mit netting to eat.”
Seeing I was not to be moved by thought of their pitiable condition, he drew back with a profound sigh, and as he disappeared some one came hastily toward us along the hallway from the rear.
“What is it, Caton?” I asked anxiously, as I recognized him.
“They are forming to rush me, I think,” he answered. “I need a few more men if I can get them.”
“They are preparing to assault front and rear at the same time,” I answered. “They are massing now, and in my judgment Brennan will have to face the brunt of it. The front of this house is greatly exposed, and will prove extremely difficult to defend if they come against it with any force. How many men do you absolutely require in order to hold your position? Remember, the women are all in the front part of the house, and we must protect them at all hazards.”
“Good God, Wayne! Do you think I am likely to forget, with Celia Minor among them?” he exclaimed indignantly. “Nothing but a strict sense of duty holds me one moment where I am. Heaven knows I wish to be with her, and, by thunder, Brennan is aware of it.”
“Then come with me,” I cried. “There are times when a higher law than that of military despotism should control our actions. I am going there, orders or no orders. Ebers can command your detachment and accomplish all the service you possibly could. Your rightful place is between these ruffians and the woman you love. How many additional men will be required to make the back of the house secure?”
His face brightened as I was speaking, and the haggard look vanished from his eyes.
“I feel like a new man, Wayne,” he said thankfully, “and I know you are right. Four more would be sufficient, besides the one in command. The wainscoting is high and of solid oak, the windows are small, there is no porch, while the guns have a perfectly clear range for nearly a hundred yards.”
“Good! Ebers,” I said, as my portly Sergeant again emerged from out the darkness, “take your four men back to the kitchen and assume command. The guerillas are preparing to make a rush there, and you must drive them back by rapid fire. Hurry along now.”
“By Chiminy, but I vos glad to git in der kitchen, anyhow. Is der anyting cold to put in der stomach in dot bantry?” he asked anxiously.
“You will have something exceedingly hot in your stomach unless you move more lively,” I said sternly.
The little group had barely vanished beyond the glow of the light when from without our ears were suddenly assailed by a wild, exulting yell that bespoke the charge.
“There they are!” I cried. “Now, lads, come with me!”
The dull, gray, chilling dawn revealed a room in utmost disorder, the windows shattered, the blinds cut and splintered, the walls scarred with bullets and disfigured with stains of blood, the furniture overturned and broken. A dead soldier in gray uniform lay in the centre of the floor, his life-blood a dark stain upon the rich carpet; a man with coat off, and blue shirt ripped wide open, was leaning against the further wall vainly endeavoring to stanch a wound in his chest. Brennan was upon one knee near the central window, a smoking gun in his hand, a red welt showing ghastly across his cheek. All this I saw in a single glance, and then, with the leap of a panther, I was beside him, gazing out into the morning mist, and firing as fast as I could handle my gun.
Through the shifting smoke clouds we could see them advancing on a run,—an ugly, motley line, part blue, part gray, part everything,—yelling as they swept forward like a pack of infuriated wolves, their fierce faces scowling savagely behind the rifles. It was half war, half riot—the reckless onslaught of outcasts bent on plunder, inspired by lust, yet guided by rude discipline.
I knew little of detail; faces were blurred, unrecognizable; all I seemed to note clearly was that solid, brutal, heartless, blaspheming line of desperate men sweeping toward us with a relentless fury our puny bullets could not check. Reckless ferocity was in that mad rush; they pressed on more like demons than human beings. I saw men fall; I saw the living stumble over the dead. I heard cries of agony, shouts, curses, but there was no pause. I could mark their faces now, cruel, angry, revengeful; the hands that grasped the veranda railings; the leaping bodies; the rifle-butts uplifted to batter down our frail defences.
As trapped tigers we fought, hurling them back from the windows, slashing, clubbing, striking with fist and steel. Two lay dead across the sill before me, cloven to the very chin, but their bleeding bodies were hurled remorselessly aside, while others clambered forward, mad from lust of blood, crazed with liquor. With clubbed guns we cleared it again and again, battering mercilessly at every head that fronted us. Then a great giant of a fellow—dead or alive I know not—was hurled headlong through the opening, an inert, limp weight, that bore the two soldiers beside me to the floor beneath his body. With wide sweep of my gun I struck him, shattering the stock into fragments, and swung back to meet the others, the hot barrel falling to right and left like a flail. They were through and on me! Wild as any sea-rover of the north I fought, crazed with blood, unconscious of injury, animated solely by desire to strike and slay! Back I had to go; back—I trod on dead bodies, on wounded shrieking in pain, yet no man who came within sweep of that iron bar lived. I loved to hear the thud of it, and I fronted those glaring eyes, my blood afire, my arms like steel. Through the red mist I beheld Caton for an instant as twenty brutal hands uplifted, and then hurled him into the ruck beneath their feet. Whether I fought alone I knew not, cared not. Then some one pressed next to me, facing as I did, wielding a sword like a madman. We had our backs against the piano, our shoulders touched; before us that mob swayed, checked for the moment, held fast by sudden overpowering dread. I glanced aside. My companion was Brennan, hatless, his deep-set eyes aflame, his coat torn off, his shirt ripped open to the waist, his bare breast red with blood.
“No shootin', damn ye!” shouted a voice, hoarsely. “No shootin'; I want that Reb alive!”
Through the swirling smoke I recognized the malicious face of Red Lowrie as he pushed his way to the front. To me it was like a personal challenge to combat.
“Rush them!” I muttered into Brennan's ear. “Hurl them back a bit, and then dodge under into the next room.”
I never waited to ascertain if he heard me. With one fierce spring I struck their stunned line, and my iron bar swept a clear space as it crashed remorselessly into them. The next instant Lowrie and I were seemingly alone and fronting each other. A wild cat enraged by pain looks as he did when he leaped to meet me. Hate, deadly, relentless, glared in his eyes, and with a yell of exultation he swung up his long rifle and struck savagely at my head with the stock. I caught it partially on my barrel, breaking its full force, and even as it descended upon my shoulder, jabbed the muzzle hard into his leering face. With a snarl of pain he dropped his gun and grappled with me, but as his fingers closed about my throat, something swirled down through the maze, and the maddened brute staggered back, his arms uplifted, his red beard cloven in twain.
“Now for it, Wayne!” shouted Brennan. “Back with you!”
With a dive I went under the piano. I heard the sliding doors shut behind us, and almost with the sound was again upon my feet.
“To the stairs!” I panted. “Brennan, take the women to the stairs; those fellows are not in the hallway yet, and we can hold them there a while.”
In our terrible need for haste, and amid the thick, swirling smoke filling that inner room almost to suffocation, I grasped the woman chancing to be nearest me, without knowing at the moment who she was. Already the rifle-butts were splintering the light wood behind us into staves, and I hastily dragged my dazed companion forward. The others were in advance, and we groped our way like blind persons out into the hall. By rare good fortune it was yet unoccupied, and as we took the few hurried steps toward the foot of the stairs I found my arm was encircling Celia Minor. The depth of despair within her dark eyes, and the speechless anguish of her white face, swept for an instant the fierce rage of battle from my brain.
“Do not fail us now, Miss Minor,” I urged kindly, “we may yet hold out until help comes.”
“Oh, it is not that!” she cried pitifully. “But Arthur; where is Arthur?”
“God knows,” I was compelled to answer. “I saw him fronting the first rush when it struck us. I think he went down, yet he may not be seriously hurt.”
She burst into tears, but I had no time to comfort her, for at that moment the mob, discovering our direction of escape, jammed both doorways and surged forth howling into the hall.
“Up!” I cried, forcing her forward. “Up with you; quick!”
I paused a scant second to pluck a sabre from beside a dead soldier on the floor, and then with a spring up the intervening steps, faced about at Brennan's side on the first landing.
“We ought to leave our mark on those incarnate devils here,” he said grimly, wiping his red blade on the carpet.
“Unless they reach the second story from without, and take us in the rear,” I answered, “we ought to hold back the whole cowardly crew, so long as they refuse to fire.”
It was a scene to abide long with a man—a horrible nightmare, never to be forgotten. Above us, protected somewhat by the abrupt curve of the wide staircase, crouched the women. Two were sobbing, their heads buried in their hands, but Maria and Mrs. Brennan sat white of face and dry-eyed. I caught one quick glance at the fair face I loved,—my sweet lady of the North,—thinking, indeed, it might prove the last on earth, and knew her eyes were upon me. Then, stronger of heart than ever for the coming struggle, I fronted that scene below.
Through the rising haze of smoke I looked down into angry faces, unkempt beards, and brandished weapons. The baffled rascals poured out upon us from both doors, crowding into the narrow space, cursing, threatening, thirsting for revenge. Yet they were seemingly leaderless, and the boldest among them paused at the foot of the stairs. They had already felt our arms, had tested our steel, and knew well that grim death awaited their advance.
But they could not pause there long—the ever increasing rush of those behind pressed the earlier arrivals steadily forward. Grim necessity furnished a courage naturally lacking, and suddenly, giving vent to a fierce shout, they were hurled upward, seeking to crush us at whatever sacrifice, by sheer force of numbers. We met them with the point, in the good old Roman way, thrusting home remorselessly, fighting with silent contempt for them which must have been maddening. I even heard Brennan laugh, as he pierced a huge ruffian through the shoulder and hurled him backward; but at that moment I saw Craig knock aside a levelled gun and press his way to the front of the seething mass to assume control. His face was inflamed, his eyes bloodshot; drink had changed him into a very demon.
“Damn ye, Red told you not to fire!” he yelled. “Come on, you dogs! You could eat 'em up if ye wasn't sich blamed cowards. There's only two, and we'll hang them yet.”
He leaped straight up the broad steps, his long cavalry sabre in hand, while a dozen of the boldest followed him. Brennan swung his sword high over head, grasping it with both hands for a death-blow, even as I thrust directly at the fellow's throat. The uplifted blade struck the chain of the hanging lamp, snapped at the hilt, and losing his balance the Major plunged headlong into the ruck beneath. The downward fall of his body swept the stairs.
As I stood there, panting and breathless, a woman rushed downward. Believing she would throw herself into that tangled mass below, I instantly caught her to me.
“Don't,” I cried anxiously. “You cannot help him. For God's sake go back where you were.”
“It is not that,” she exclaimed, her voice thrilling with excitement. “Oh, Captain Wayne, do you not hear the bugles?”
As by magic those hateful faces vanished, disappearing by means of every opening leading out from the hall, and when the cheering blue-coats surged in through the broken door, I was yet standing there, apparently alone but for the dead, leaning weak and breathless against the wall, my arm about Edith Brennan.