Books: My Lady of the North
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Randall Parrish >> My Lady of the North
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"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.
CHAPTER XXXIII
A BELLIGERENT GERMAN
A young officer, whose red face was rendered extremely conspicuous by
the blue of his uniform, led the rush of his soldiers as they came
tumbling gallantly into the hall.
"Up there, men!" he cried, catching instant sight of me, and pointing.
"Get that Johnny with the girl."
As they sprang eagerly forward over the dead bodies littering the floor
at the foot of the stairs, Brennan scrambled unsteadily to his feet,
and halted them with imperious gesture.
"Leave him alone!" he commanded. "That is the commander of the
Confederate detachment who came to our aid. The guerillas have fled
down the hallway, and are most of them outside by now. Wayne," he
turned and glanced up at us, his face instantly darkening at the
tableau, "kindly assist the ladies to descend; we must get them out of
this shambles."
He lifted them one by one and with ceremonious politeness across the
ghastly pile of dead and wounded men.
"Escort them to the library," he suggested, as I hesitated. "That room
will probably be found clear."
I was somewhat surprised that Brennan should not have come personally
to the aid of his wife, but as he ignored her presence utterly, I at
once offered her my arm, and silently led the way to the room
designated, the others following as best they might. The apartment was
unoccupied, exhibiting no signs of the late struggle, and I found
comfortable resting places for all. Miss Minor was yet sobbing softly,
her face hidden upon her mother's shoulder, and I felt constrained to
speak with her.
"I shall go at once" I said kindly, "to ascertain all I can regarding
Lieutenant Caton, and will bring you word."
She thanked me with a glance of her dark eyes clouded with tears, but
as I turned hastily away to execute this errand, Mrs. Brennan laid
restraining hand upon my arm.
"Captain Wayne," she said with much seriousness, "you are very
unselfish, but you must not go until your own wounds have been attended
to; they may be far more serious than you apprehend."
"My wounds?" I almost laughed at the gravity of her face, for although
exhausted, I was unconscious of any injury. "They must be trivial
indeed, for I was not even aware I had any."
"But you have!" she insisted, her eyes full upon me. "Your hair is
fairly clotted with blood, while your shoulder is torn and bruised
until it is horrible to look upon."
As I gazed at her, surprised by the anxiety she so openly displayed, I
chanced to behold myself reflected within a large mirror directly
across the room. One glance was sufficient to convince me her words
were fully justified. My remains of uniform literally clung to me in
rags, my bare shoulder looked a contused mass of battered flesh, my
hair was matted, and my face blackened by powder stains and streaked
with blood.
"I certainly do appear disreputable enough," I admitted; "but I can
assure you it is nothing sufficiently serious to require immediate
attention. Indeed a little water is probably all I need. Besides, why
should I care--was it not all received for your sake?"
I spoke the pronoun so strongly she could not well ignore my obvious
meaning, nor did she endeavor to escape the inference. Her face, yet
white from the strain of the past few hours, became rosy in an instant,
and her eyes fell.
"I know," she answered softly. "Perhaps that may be why I am so
exceedingly anxious your injuries should be attended to."
As I stepped without, and closed the door behind me, I was at once
startled by the rapid firing of shots from the rear of the house, and
the next moment I encountered the young, red-faced officer hurrying
along the hallway at the head of a squad of Federal cavalrymen.
Recognizing me in the gloom of the passage he paused suddenly.
"I owe you a belated apology, Captain," he exclaimed cordially, "for
having mistaken you for one of those miscreants, but really your
appearance was not flattering."
"Having viewed myself since within a mirror," I replied, "I am prepared
to acknowledge the mistake a most natural one. However, I am grateful
to be out of the scrape, and can scarcely find fault with my rescuers.
Five minutes more would have witnessed the end."
"We rode hard," he said, "and were in saddle within fifteen minutes
after the arrival of your courier. You evidently made a hard fight of
it; the house bears testimony to a terrible struggle. We are rejoicing
to learn that Lieutenant Caton was merely stunned; we believed him dead
at first, and he is far too fine a fellow to go in that way."
"He is truly living, then?" I exclaimed, greatly relieved. "Miss Minor,
to whom he is engaged, is sorrowing over his possible fate in the
library yonder. Could not two of your men assist him to her? She would
do more to hasten his recovery than any one."
"Certainly," was the instant response. "Haines, you and McDonald get
the officer out of the front room; carry him in there where the ladies
are, and then rejoin us."
His face darkened as the men designated departed on their errand.
"I really require all the force I possess," he said doubtfully. "It
seems impossible to dislodge those rascals back yonder. What we need is
a field howitzer."
"I have been wondering at the firing; pretty lively, isn't it? Have
some of those fellows made a stand?"
"Yes; quite a crowd of them have succeeded in barricading themselves in
the kitchen, and it is so arranged as to prove an exceedingly awkward
place to attack. We have had three men hit already, in spite of every
precaution, and I am seeking now to discover some means of forcing
their position from the hall. Their leader appears to be a bullet-
headed Dutchman about as easy to manage as a mule."
The words aroused me to a possibility.
"A Dutchman, you say? and in the kitchen? Have you had sight of the
fellow?"
"Merely a glimpse, and that over a rifle-barrel. He has a round, dull
face, with a big flat nose."
"That idiot is my sergeant, Lieutenant, and supposes he is still
fighting guerillas."
The Lieutenant looked at me in surprise, then burst into a peal of
laughter. "Well, if that is true," he cried, "I most sincerely hope you
will call him off before he succeeds in cleaning out our entire troop."
I started down the hallway toward the point of firing. There was a
sharp jog in the wall leading to the kitchen door, and as I approached
it some soldiers stationed there warned me to be careful.
"They're perfect devils to shoot, sir," said one respectfully, "an' the
Dutchman fetches his man every time."
"Oh, it will be all right, boys," I replied confidently. "He'll know
me."
Before me as I stepped forth was a double door of oak, the upper half
partially open.
"Sergeant," I cried, "come out; the fight is all over."
For answer a bullet whizzed past me, chugging into the wall at my back,
and I skipped around the corner with a celerity of movement which
caused the fellows watching me to grin with delight.
"Find me a white cloth of some kind," I demanded as soon as I reached
cover, and now thoroughly angered. "We shall see if that wooden-headed
old fool knows the meaning of a flag of truce."
They succeeded in securing me a torn pillow-slip from somewhere, and
sheltering my body as best I might behind the wall angle I waved it
violently in full view of the kitchen door. For a few moments it
remained apparently unnoted, and then Ebers's round, placid countenance
looked suspiciously through the slight aperture.
"Did you give op?" he questioned anxiously.
"Give up nothing," I retorted, my temper thoroughly exhausted. "Come
out of that! You are firing on your own friends."
He put his fat fingers to his nose and wiggled them derisively.
"Dot is too thin," he said meaningly. "You dink me von ol' fool, but I
show you. By Chiminy, I want no friends--you shoot me der ear off, and
I fights mit you good and blenty. Der is dings to eat in der bantry,
and you be damned."
He drew back, leaving merely the black muzzle of his gun projecting
across the top of the lower door.
"Ebers," I called out at the top of my voice, "unless you obey my
orders I'LL have you strung up by your own men. Open that door!"
The fat, puzzled face peered once more cautiously over the menacing
gun-barrel.
"Is dot you, Captain?"
"Yes, come out; the fight is all over."
"No, vos it?" and he flung open the lower half of the door. "Veil, I
vos not sorry. Have ve vipped dem already?"
"Yes, it's all done with. Take your men out of there, and go into camp
somewhere in the yard. Seek out our wounded and attend to them as soon
as possible. Are your men hungry?"
"Veil, maybe dey vos not quite full, but dere is a ham in der bantry
dot vould pe bretty good mit der stomach."
"Take it along with you; only hurry up, and attend at once to what I
have told you."
I watched closely until they had all passed out, and then turned to the
highly amused Federal lieutenant.
"You surely have a character in that fellow," he said good-humoredly,
"and I can bear witness he is a fighter when the time comes."
I left them, remembering then my own need. By using the back stairway I
avoided unpleasant contact with the traces of conflict yet visible at
the front of the house, and finally discovered a bathroom which
afforded facilities for cleansing my flesh wounds and making my general
appearance more presentable. I found I could do little to improve the
condition of my clothing, but after making such changes for the better
as were possible, soaking the clotted blood from out my hair, and
washing the powder stains from my face, I felt I should no longer prove
an object of aversion even to the critical eyes of the women, who would
fully realize the cause for my torn and begrimed uniform.
A glance from the window told me the Federal cavalrymen were bearing
out the dead and depositing them beyond view of the house in the
deserted negro cabins. Ebers and one or two of my own men were standing
near, carefully scanning the uncovered faces as they were borne past,
while scraps of conversation overheard brought the information that the
long dining-room where I had passed the night on guard had been
converted into a temporary hospital.
Irresolute as to my next action, I passed out into the upper hall. It
was deserted and strangely silent, seemingly far removed from all those
terrible scenes so lately enacted in the rooms beneath. My head by this
time throbbed with pain; I desired to be alone, to think, to map out my
future course before proceeding down the stairs to meet the others.
With this in view I sank down in complete weariness upon a convenient
settee. I could hear the sound of muffled voices below, while an
occasional order was spoken loud enough to reach me; but I was utterly
alone, and my thoughts wandered, as though the strain of the past few
hours had completely wrecked all my mental faculties. It was Edith
Brennan--Edith Brennan--who remained constantly before me, and wherever
my eyes wandered they beheld the same fail-face, which tantalized me by
its presence and mocked me in every resolve I sought to form. There was
no safety for me--and none for her, as I now verily believed--save in
my immediate departure. We could be together no longer without my
unlocking sealed lips and giving utterance to words she could not
listen to, words she must never hear. I was yet struggling to force
this decision into action when complete fatigue overcame me. My heavy
head sank back upon the arm of the settee, and deep sleep closed my
eyes.
CHAPTER XXXIV
THE WORDS OF LOVE
It was in my dreams I felt it first,--a light, moist touch upon my
burning forehead,--and I imagined I was a child once more, back at the
old home, caressed by the soft hand of my mother. But as consciousness
slowly returned I began to realize dimly where I was, and that I was no
longer alone. A gentle hand was stroking back the hair from off my
temples, while the barest uplift of my eyelids revealed the folds of a
dark blue skirt pressed close to my side. Instantly I realized who must
be the wearer, and remained motionless until I could better control my
first unwise impulse.
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