Books: My Lady of the North
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Randall Parrish >> My Lady of the North
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"Quick!" I gasped desperately. "Get my revolver there on the floor, and
use it--but for God's sake keep down; don't let the brute see you."
She must have heard, but there was no response, although her crying
ceased. Yet my own struggle to rid myself of that crushing weight and
those iron jaws drowned all other sounds, drove all other thoughts from
me. I doubt if what I now record occupied a minute; but God protect me
from ever having to experience such another minute! I continued to
struggle in desperate hopelessness with single hand, in vain endeavor
to wrench loose that awful grip upon my shoulder. Every movement I made
was an agony, an inexpressible torture, but the very intensity of pain
kept me from faintness, as the maddened beast tore deeper and deeper
into the quivering flesh. With knee bent double beneath me I succeeded
in turning partially upon one side, lifting the entire weight of the
animal as I did so; but no degree of force I could exert would loosen
those set jaws. There was no growling, no savage snarling, no sound of
any kind,--just that fierce, desperate, silent struggle for life in the
darkness. Every muscle of my body began to weaken from the strain, my
eyes blurred, faintness swept over me, I felt my brain reeling, when
there burst a vivid flash of flame within a foot of my face, singeing
my forehead; then followed a deafening report, and the huge brute
sprang backward with a snarl of pain, his teeth clicking together like
cogs of steel. Then he stiffened and fell prone across me, a dead,
inert weight, pinning me breathless to the floor.
For the moment I could do no more than lie there helpless, gasping for
breath, scarce conscious even of my deliverance. Then, as sufficient
strength returned for action, I rolled the body of the dead brute off
me, and lifting myself by aid of the wall against which my head rested,
looked about. Two broken chairs overturned upon the floor, and the
shapeless, huddled body of my late assailant, alone spoke of the
violence of that deadly struggle; but the cabin was yet full of smoke,
and I could perceive the figure of the girl leaning against the frame
of the open door, the revolver still grasped in her hand. Her posture
was that of a frightened deer, as her terror-filled eyes sought the
dark interior.
"It is safely over," I said weakly, for my breath yet came to me in
gasps. "The brute is dead."
"And you are not killed!" Shall I ever forget the glad ring in her
voice?--"Oh, thank God! thank God!"
The sound of these eager words yielded me a fresh measure of life.
"Believe me, I certainly do," I said as cheerfully as possible, "and I
thank you also as His instrument; but if you would keep me from
fainting away like a nerveless woman, I beg you come here."
I could mark her coming across the narrow streak of moonlight, moving
toward me as a frightened bird might, startled at everything, and
passing as far from the lifeless mass on the floor as the small space
would allow. As she bent anxiously over me her face was so in shadow
that I could distinguish nothing of its features.
"What is it? Are you indeed severely hurt?"
"Not seriously, I think, yet I have lost some blood, and am in great
pain. There is brandy in the inner pocket of my jacket, but I am unable
to move my arm in order to reach it. Would you endeavor to draw the
flask out?"
I felt her bend over me, her soft breath coming almost in sobs upon my
face, as with trembling fingers she undid the buttons of my trooper's
jacket and extracted the small flat flask I had been thoughtful enough
to store away there.
The fiery liquid seemed to put new blood into my veins, and with it
there returned all my old-time audacity, with that intense hopefulness
in which I had been trained by years of war and self-reliance.
"Ah! now I feel I am myself once more," I exclaimed cheerily. "Things
are surely not so bad after all. At least we have a roof over our
heads, and another day in which to live."
I felt her shudder.
"Oh, please do not make light of it," she whispered. "It is so like
some horrid dream, and I am trembling yet." I put my hand upon hers,
and it was not withdrawn.
"I trust you realize," I said, "that I am neither thoughtless nor
ungrateful. Years of war service make one careless of life, but I know
it was your shot that saved me. You are a brave girl."
Her overtaxed nerves gave way at my words, and I knew she was crying
softly. The sobbing was in her voice as she strove to speak.
"Oh, no, I am not; you do not guess how great a coward I am. I scarcely
knew what I was doing when I fired. That horrid thing--what was it?"
"A huge mastiff, I imagine; one of the largest of his breed. But
whatever it may have been, the beast is dead, and we have nothing more
to fear from him."
"Yet I tremble so," she confessed, almost hysterically. "Every shadow
frightens me."
I realized that no amount of conversation would quiet her nerves so
effectively as some positive action; besides, I felt the hot blood
constantly trickling down my arm, and realized that something needed to
be done at once to stanch its flow, before weakness should render me
equally useless.
"Do you think you could build a fire on the hearth yonder?" I asked. "I
am afraid I am hardly capable of helping you as yet; but we must have
light in this gloomy old hole, or it is bound to craze us both. Take
those broken chairs if you find nothing better."
She instantly did as I bade her, moving here and there about the room
until she gathered together the materials necessary, but keeping
carefully away from where the dead dog lay, until in a brief space of
time the welcome flame leaped up in the wide black chimney, and cast
its red glare all over the little room. The activity did her good, the
light flooding the gloomy apartment yielded renewed courage, and there
was a cheerier sound in her voice as she came back to me.
"The great ugly brute!" she exclaimed, looking at the form in the
centre of the floor.
"He was certainly heavy enough to have been a bear," I replied,
clinching my teeth in pain, "and sufficiently savage."
I viewed her now for the first time clearly, and the memory will remain
with me till I die. How distinctly that entire picture stands forth
with the mist of all these years between! The low-ceiled room, devoid
of all furniture save of the rudest and most primitive kind; the bare
logs forming the walls, unrelieved in their rough ugliness, except as
here and there sundry unshapely garments dangled from wooden pegs; the
rough deal table, with a few cheap dishes piled upon one end of it; the
dead dog lying across the earthen floor; and over all the leap of
'ruddy flame as the newly kindled fire gathered way, leaving weird
shadows here and there, yet steadily forcing them back, and flooding
the whole interior with a cheery glow.
She had flung aside the blue and yellow cloak which, during the long
hours of our night ride had so completely shrouded her, and stood
before me dressed in some soft clinging stuff of a delicate brown
color, so cut and fashioned as to most become her rounded, graceful
form. About her neck a narrow strip of creamy lace was fitted, the full
throat rendered whiter by the contrast, while at her wrists a similar
ornament alone served to relieve the simple plainness of her attire.
The flaming fire lighted up her face, making it seem to flush with the
dancing glow, which sparkled like diamonds in her eyes, and touched
with ruddy light the dark, dishevelled hair. Hers was a young, fair
face,--a face to love and trust forever, yet with a pride in it, and a
certain firmness also that somehow was good to see. All this I noted
with one quick upward glance, and with a sudden thrill of the heart
such as I had never known before.
CHAPTER VII
A DISCIPLE OF SIR WALTER
I have no doubt she wished me to see her thus. Every woman worth the
winning is a bit of a coquette, and none can be utterly disdainful of
the lesson their mirror tells. But even as I gazed upon her, my
admiration deeper than my pain, the arch expression of her face
changed; there came a sudden rush of pity, of anxiety into those clear,
challenging eyes, and with one quick step she drew nearer and bent
above me.
"Oh, Captain Wayne," she cried, her warm, womanly heart conquering all
prejudice, "you are badly hurt and bleeding. Why did you not tell me?
Please let me aid you."
"I fear I must," I replied grimly. "I would gladly spare you, for
indeed I do not believe my injury sufficiently serious to cause alarm,
but I find I have only one arm I can use at present; the brute got his
teeth into the other."
The tender compassion within her eyes was most pleasant to see.
"Oh, believe me, I can do it." She spoke bravely, a sturdy ring of
confidence in the voice, although at the thought her face paled. "I
have been in the hospitals at Baltimore, and taken care of wounded
soldiers. If there was only some water here!"
She glanced about, dreading the possibility of having to go forth into
the night alone in search of a spring or well.
"I think you will find a pail on the bench yonder," I said, for from
where I leaned against the wall I could see out into the shed. "It was
doubtless left for the dog to drink from."
She came back with it, tearing down a cloth from off a peg in the wall
as she passed, and then, wearing a resolute air of authority, knelt
beside me, and with rapid fingers flung back my jacket, unfastening the
rough army shirt, and laid bare, so far as was possible, the lacerated
shoulder.
It gave me intense pain, for the shirt had become matted to the wound
by drying blood, so that in spite of her soft touch and my own clinched
teeth a slight groan broke from my lips.
"Forgive me," she said anxiously, "but I fear I can never dress it in
this way. We must remove your jacket and cut away the sleeve of your
shirt."
It was an agonizing operation, for it has often seemed to me that the
more superficial the wound the greater the pain experienced in dealing
with it, and the perspiration stood in beads upon my forehead as she
worked quickly and with skill. At last the disagreeable task was
accomplished, the wounded shoulder completely bared. Her face was
deathly white now, and she shielded her eyes with her hand.
"Oh, what a horrible wound!" she exclaimed, almost sobbing. "How that
great brute must have hurt you!"
"The wound is not so serious as it appears," I replied reassuringly,
and glad myself to feel that I spoke the truth, "but I confess the pain
is intense, and makes me feel somewhat faint. It was not so much the
mere bite of the dog, but unfortunately he got his teeth into an old
wound and tore it open."
"An old wound?"
"Yes; I received a Minié ball there at Gettysburg, and although the
bullet was extracted, the wound never properly healed."
These words served to recall to her instantly the fact that I was not
of her own people; there appeared to come again into her manner that
marked restraint which had almost totally disappeared during the last
few minutes. Not that she failed in any kindness or consideration, but
a growing reserve put check upon what was fast becoming the intimacy of
friendship. Yet she performed her disagreeable task with all the
tenderness of a sympathetic woman, and as she worked swiftly and
deftly, made no attempt to conceal the tears clinging to her long
lashes. Skilfully the deep, jagged gash was bathed out, and then as
carefully bound up with the softest cloths she could find at hand. The
relief was great, and I felt, as I moved the shoulder, that saving the
soreness it would probably not greatly bother me.
"Now you must lie back and rest," she said command-ingly, as I
attempted to thank her. "Here, put your head on this cloak. But first
it will do you good to have more of the brandy, for you are as white as
death."
"Merely a slight faintness; and I will only consent to indulge provided
you partake first, for I know you require the stimulant as much as I,"
I retorted doggedly, gazing up into her face with an admiration she
could scarcely fail to perceive.
She lifted the flask to her lips and did not answer, but when she
handed it back to me there was a new flush upon her cheeks.
"And now as your nurse I command absolute quiet," striving to speak
gaily. "See, the daylight is already here, and I mean to discover if
this lone cabin contains anything which human beings can eat; I confess
that I am nearly famished."
"A most excellent symptom, and I imagine your quest will not be wholly
vain. To my eye that greatly resembles a slab of bacon hanging beside
the chimney."
"It indeed is," she exclaimed, "and I feel as a shipwrecked seaman must
on first beholding land."
However my naturally energetic spirit revolted at inactivity, for the
time being my faintness precluded any thought of doing other than
obeying her orders, and I lay there silent, propped up against the
logs, my eager eyes following her rapid, graceful movements with a
constantly increasing interest. As she worked, the reflection of the
red flames became mingled with the gray dawn, until the bare and
cheerless interior grew more and more visible. Her search was far from
unsuccessful, while her resourcefulness astonished me, old campaigner
as I was; for it was scarcely more than full daylight before she had me
at the table, and I was doing full justice to such coarse food as the
larder furnished. A Confederate soldier in those days could not well
afford to affect delicacy in matters of the cuisine, and indeed our
long fast had left us both where any kind of food was most welcome.
The eating helped me greatly; but for some time so busy were we that
neither of us spoke. On my own part I experienced a strange hesitancy
in addressing her upon terms of equality. Ordinarily not easily
embarrassed in feminine society, I felt in this instance a definite
barrier between us, which prevented my feeling at ease. Now and then as
we sat opposite each other, eating amid a silence most unpleasant, I
would catch her eyes glancing across at me, but they were lowered
instantly whenever I ventured to meet them. Finally I broke the
stillness with a commonplace remark:
"I presume your people will be greatly worried by this time over your
mysterious disappearance."
A flush swept her throat and cheeks, but she did not lift her eyes from
the plate. "Yes," she answered slowly, "Frank is doubtless searching
for me long before this."
"Frank?" I asked, feeling glad of this opportunity to learn more of her
relationships. "You forget, possibly, that your friends are strange to
me. You refer to the gentleman who expected to meet you on the road?"
"To Major Brennan, yes."
There was nothing about the tone of her reply that invited me to press
the inquiry further. One thing, however, was reasonably certain,--the
man she called "Frank" could not be her father. I longed to ask if he
was a brother, but the restraint of her whole manner repelled the
suggestion.
"Did I understand that you have nursed in the Federal hospitals at
Baltimore?" I questioned, more to continue the conversation than from
any deep interest.
"Merely as a volunteer, and when the regular nurses were especially
busy. Major Brennan was stationed there for some time when I first
visited him, and I felt it my duty as a loyal woman to aid the poor
fellows."
"It was surely far from being an agreeable task to one of your
refinement."
"Oh, it was not that that made it so hard," and her eyes were upon me
now unflinchingly. "It was the constant sight of so much misery one was
unable to relieve. Besides, that was nearly a year ago; I was very
young, just from school, and every form of suffering was new and
terrible to me."
"I greatly wonder you were permitted to go there at all."
"The Major did object. He insisted it was no fit place for me, and that
I ran the risk of contracting disease. But I generally have my own way,
even with him, and in this case I felt it a duty to my country, and
that I was right in my decision."
I remained silent, striving vainly to frame some innocent question
which should solve for me the problem of who and what she was. Suddenly
she spoke softly:
"Captain Wayne, I feel I owe you an apology for my unwarranted and
unladylike conduct last night. I am very sure now that you are a
gentleman, and will appreciate how bitterly I was tried, how deeply I
have ever since regretted it."
It hurt her pride to say even this much, as I could tell by her
downcast eyes and heaving bosom, and I hastened to relieve her
embarrassment.
"You have nothing whatever to ask forgiveness for," I said earnestly.
"Rather such a request should come from me. I only trust, Miss Brennan,
that you will excuse my part in this extremely unfortunate affair."
She sat looking down upon her plate, her fingers nervously crumbling a
bit of corn bread.
"You do not even know who I am," she said slowly. "I am not Miss, but
Mrs. Brennan."
I felt as if a dash of cold water had been suddenly thrown in my face.
"Indeed?" I stammered, scarcely knowing what I said. "You appear so
young a girl that I never once thought of you as being a married
woman."
"I was married very early; indeed, before I was seventeen. My husband--"
What she was about to add I could but conjecture, for a quick change in
the expression of her face startled me.
"What is it?" I questioned, half rising to my feet, and glancing over
my shoulder toward the wall where her eyes were riveted.
"Something resembling a hand pushed aside the coat hanging yonder," she
explained in low trembling tone, "and I thought I saw a face."
With one stride I was across the narrow room, and tore the garment from
its wooden hook. The log wall where it hung was blank. I struck it here
and there with the steel hilt of my sabre, but it returned a perfectly
solid sound, and I glanced about bewildered. The woman was watching me
with affrighted eyes.
"This entire house is uncanny," she exclaimed. "The very being in it
makes my flesh creep. It may have been a den of murderers. Captain, let
us get outside into the sunshine."
Believing it to be merely her overwrought nerves which were at fault, I
sought to soothe her. "It was probably no more than a shadow," I said,
crossing to her side of the table, to enable her better to feel the
influence of my presence. "Let us be content to sit here by the door,
for we should be taking too great a risk of discovery if we ventured
into the open."
I had barely spoken these words and placed my fingers on her hand to
lead her forward when the small door which opened into the shed was
thrown back noisily, and two great shaggy dogs, the evident mates of
the dead brute at our feet, leaped fiercely in. She shrank toward me
with a sob of terror; but even as I drew a revolver from my belt, a man
and a woman appeared almost simultaneously in that same opening.
"Down, Douglas! down, Roderick! Ha! 'There lies Red Murdoch, stark and
stiff!'--down, you brutes; you'll be dead yourselves sometime."
The man strode forward as he spoke, clubbing the frenzied brutes with
the stock of the long rifle he carried.
"'Yelled on the view the opening pack,'" he quoted, as he distributed
his blows impartially to right and left; "'rock, glen, and cavern paid
them back.' Them thar be Scott's words, stranger, an' I reckon as how
ol' Sir Walter knew whut he wus writin' 'bout. Stop thet blame youlin',
you Roderick, er I'll take t' other end o' this gun ter ye."
He redoubled his efforts for peace, finally driving the rebellious
beasts back into one corner, where they sat upon their haunches and
eyed us wistfully.
"'Two dogs of black Saint Hubert's breed, unmatched for courage,
breath, and speed,'" he exclaimed, wiping the perspiration from his
face with the back of one hand and staring at us, "specially the
breath."
He was a fierce-looking little fellow, scarcely more than a half-grown
boy in size, with round, red face full of strange wrinkles, and head as
oddly peak-shaped as I ever looked upon. It went up exactly like the
apex of a pear, while the upper portion was utterly bald. He formed a
most remarkable contrast to the tall, raw-boned, angular female who
loomed up like a small mountain just behind him.
"I reckon as how you uns hed quite a bit of a scrap afore ye laid thet
thar dorg out, stranger," he said, a half-angry tone lurking in his
deep voice. "'The fleetest hound in all the North,' an' I'm durned if I
jist likes ther way you uns makes yerselves et hum in this yere cabin."
"Shet up, Jed Bungay," cut in his better-half, sharply, and as she
spoke she caught the little man unceremoniously by one arm, and
thrusting him roughly to one side strode heavily forward until she
paused in the centre of the room, facing us with her arms akimbo.
"Now I'd jist like ter know," she said savagely, "who you uns be, a
breakin' into a house, and a killin' a dorg, an' a eatin' up everything
we uns got without so much as a sayin' 'by yer leave' er nuthin'. I
reckon as how you uns don't take this yere cabin fer no tavern?"
The wrinkled red face peering cautiously around her ample waist line
made me wish to laugh, but an earnest desire to placate the irate
female, who was evidently the real head of this household, enabled me
to conquer the inclination and answer gravely.
"Madam," I said with a low bow, "it is misfortune, not desire, which
has caused us to trespass upon your hospitality. We will very gladly
pay you liberally for any damage done. I am an officer in the
Confederate service, and the breaking down of our horses compelled us
to take refuge here in order that this lady might not be exposed to
danger from roving gangs of guerillas. The dog attacked us in the dark,
and we killed him in order to save our lives."
"'The deep-mouthed bloodhound's heavy bay resounded up the rocky way,"
ejaculated Bungay with dancing eyes.
"Drat yer potry, Jed Bungay! ye dew make me tired fer suah." She turned
back to us, and from her first words it was plainly evident she had
been impressed with but one sentence of my labored explanation.
"Did you uns say as how ye 'd pay fer whut ye et and fer thet truck ye
busted?" she asked doubtfully.
"Certainly, madam," and I took some money from my pocket as evidence of
good faith. "What would you consider due you?"
The grim, set face relaxed slightly, while she permitted her husband to
edge his way a little more into the foreground.
"Wal, stranger, I sorter reckon as how 'bout four bits 'ill squar'
things--dorgs is mighty durn cheap hereabout enyhow."
"'But Lufra,--whom from Douglas' side nor bribe nor threat could e'er
divide,'" he protested. "Not that its name was Lufra, but he was a
blame fine dorg."
The woman turned on him like a flash, and he crept subdued back into
his corner. The incipient rebellion had been ended by a glance.
"Durn ye, Jed Bungay, why, thet's more money thin ye've aimed in six
months, an' ye've got more measly, flea-bit dorgs 'round yere now then
ye kin ever feed. Give me ther four bits, mister, an' I reckon as how
it'll be all right."
The little man balanced himself on one foot, and cocked up his eye in
an abortive attempt to wink.
"Yas, don't ye ever mind me, Mariar," he said humbly. "'Whom ther Lord
hath jined tergether let no man put asunder.' Thet thar ain't Scott,
Cap, but I reckon it's out of another book mighty nigh es good. Hes you
uns got all ther victuals ye want? 'He gave him of his Highland cheer,
the hardened flesh of mountain deer.' This yere is slab bacon, but it
smells purty durn good."
I glanced at Mrs. Brennan, and the amused twinkle in her eyes led me to
say heartily, "We had not entirely completed our meal, but imagined we
saw ghosts."
"Ghosts!" He glanced around apprehensively,--"'On Heaven and on thy
lady call, and enter the enchanted hall!' Wus ther ghosts ye saw over
thar?" And he pointed toward the wall opposite.
I nodded.
"Then I sorter reckon as how Mariar and me wus them ghosts," he
continued, grinning. "We sorter reckoned as how we wanted ter see who
wus yere afore we come in. 'I'll listen till my fancy hears the clang
of swords, the crash of spears.' These yere is tough times, stranger,
in these parts, an' a man whut has ter pertect a lovely female hes got
ter keep his eye skinned."
Maria sniffed contemptuously.
"Ye're no great shakes at a pertectin' o' me, Jed Bungay. Now you sit
down thar an' begin ter fill up. I reckon as how ther Cap an' his gal
will kinder jine with us fer manners."
She seated Jed with such extreme vigor that I looked for the chair to
collapse beneath him as he came down, but the little man, not in the
least daunted, picked up his knife and fork with a sigh of relief.
"'O woman! in our hours of ease uncertain, coy, and hard to please,'"
he murmured. "Come, sit down, stranger; 'Sit down an' share a soldier's
couch, a soldier's fare.' Not as I'm a sojer," he hastened to explain,
"but thet's how it is in ther book. Say, old woman, kint ye kinder sker
up some coffee fer we uns--leastwise whut us Confeds call coffee?"
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