Books: My Lady of the North
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Randall Parrish >> My Lady of the North
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CHAPTER XII
UNDER SENTENCE OF DEATH
At this late date I doubt greatly if my situation at that time was so
desperate as I then conceived it. I question now whether the death
sentence would ever have been executed. But then, with the memory of
Sheridan's rage and my own hot-headed retort, I fully believed my fate
was destined to be that of the condemned spy, unless she who alone
might tell the whole truth should voluntarily do so. That circumstances
had left me in the power of one whose fierce dislike was already
evident was beyond question, and I had yielded to his goading to such
an extent as to give those in authority every excuse for the exercise
of extreme military power. Yet of one thing I was firmly resolved--no
thoughtless word of mine should ever endanger the reputation of Edith
Brennan. Right or wrong, I would go to a death of dishonor before I
would speak without her authority. Love and pride conspired to make
this decision adamant. There might, indeed, be no reason why I should
not speak with utmost freedom; but as to this I could not judge, and
therefore preferred the safer side of silence. The action of Brennan
had impressed this upon me as a duty; had caused me to feel that I
could best serve her by blotting out the adventures of the night
before. Seemingly it was her own desire, and as a gentleman, an
officer, a man of honor, I might not even question that decree.
Deeply as these considerations would have affected me under ordinary
conditions, one doubt now overshadowed them all. Was the man I struck
the husband of the woman I loved? This was what I desired to know even
above my own fate. I scarcely doubted, yet would not yield the slight
hope I retained that it might prove otherwise. A trick of chance speech
seemed to solve the problem, to answer that question which I durst not
ask directly.
"Come," said Caton, briefly, and I turned and accompanied him without
thought of resistance. At the front door he ordered the little squad of
waiting soldiers to fall in, and taking me by the arm, led the way down
the gravelled path to the road. I was impressed by his seeming
carelessness, but as we cleared the gateway he spoke, and his words
helped me to comprehend.
"Captain Wayne," he said quietly, so that the words could not be
overheard, "you do not recognize me, but I was the officer who
conducted you to headquarters when you brought the flag in at Wilson
Creek. Of course I must perform the duty given me, but I wish you to
understand that I wholly believe your word."
He stopped, extended his hand, and I accepted it silently.
"There must surely be some grave personal reason which seals your
lips?" he questioned.
"There is."
"I thought as much. I chanced to overhear the words, or rather a
portion of them, which Brennan whispered, and have no doubt if they
were explained to the General he would feel more kindly disposed toward
you."
It was asked as a question, and I felt obliged to reply.
"I appreciate deeply your desire to aid me, but there are circumstances
involving others which compel me for the present to silence. Indeed my
possible fate does not so greatly trouble me, only that I possess a
strong desire to have freedom long enough to cross swords with this
major of yours. The quarrel between us has become bitterly personal,
and I hunger for a chance to have it out. Do you know, is he a man who
would fight?"
The young fellow stiffened slightly.
"We are serving upon the same staff," he said more abruptly, "and while
we have never been close friends, yet I cannot honorably take sides
against him. He has been out twice within the last three years to my
knowledge, and is not devoid either of courage or skill. Possibly,
however, the arrival of his wife may make him less a fire-eater."
"His wife?"
I stopped so suddenly that he involuntarily tightened his grip upon my
arm as though suspicious of an attempt to escape.
"Do you," I asked, gaining some slight control over myself, "refer to
the lady who came in with his party last evening?"
"Most certainly; she was presented to all of us as Mrs. Brennan, she
has been assigned rooms at his quarters, and she wears a wedding-ring.
Far too fine a woman in my judgment for such a master, but then that is
not so uncommon a mistake in marriage. Why, come to think about it, you
must have met her yourself. Have you reason to suspect this is not
their relationship?"
"Not in the least," I hastened to answer, fearful lest my thoughtless
exclamation might become the basis for camp gossip. "Indeed I was
scarcely in the lady's presence at all coming in, as I was left in
charge of the sergeant."
He looked at me keenly through the darkness.
"It seems somewhat curious to me that such deep enmity has grown up
between you two in so short a time. One almost suspects, as in most
cases, there may be a woman at the bottom of it."
I laughed carelessly.
"Not in the least, my friend. But there are indignities a captor can
show to his prisoner which no true gentleman would ever be guilty of
and no soldier would forgive."
I could see in the torch-light his face flush with sudden indignation.
"You are right," he returned heartily, "and from my knowledge of
Brennan I can understand your meaning. What business has such a man to
possess a wife?"
Perhaps he felt that he had already said too much, for we tramped on in
silence until we drew near a large, square white building standing
directly beside the road.
"This is the old Culverton tavern, known as the Mansion House," he
said. "It is a tremendous big building for this country, with as fine a
ballroom in it as I have seen since leaving New York. We utilize it for
almost every military purpose, and among others some of the strong
rooms in the basement are found valuable for the safe-keeping of
important prisoners."
We mounted the front steps as he was speaking, passing through a cordon
of guards, and in the wide hallway I was turned over to the officer in
charge.
"Good-night, Captain," said Caton, kindly extending his hand. "You may
rest assured that I shall say all I can in your favor, but it is to be
regretted that Brennan has great influence just now at headquarters,
and Sheridan is not a man to lightly overlook those hasty words you
spoke to him."
I could only thank him most warmly for his interest, realizing fully
from his grave manner my desperate situation, and follow my silent
conductor down some narrow and steep stairs until we stood upon the
cemented floor of the basement. Here a heavy door in the stone division
wall was opened; I was pushed forward into the dense darkness within,
and the lock clicked dully behind me. So thick was the wall I could not
even distinguish the retreating steps of the jailer.
Tired as I was from the intense strain of the past thirty-six hours,
even my anxious thoughts were insufficient to keep me awake. Feeling my
way cautiously along the wall, I came at last to a wide wooden bench,
and stretching my form at full length upon it, pillowed my head on one
arm, and almost instantly was sound asleep.
When I awoke, sore from my hard bed and stiffened by the uncomfortable
position in which I lay, it was broad daylight. That the morning was,
indeed, well advanced I knew from the single ray of sunlight which
streamed in through a grated window high up in the wall opposite me and
fell like a bar of gold across the rough stone floor. I was alone. Even
in the dark of the previous night I had discovered the sole pretence to
furniture in the place. The room itself proved to be a large and almost
square apartment, probably during the ordinary occupancy of the house a
receptacle for wood or garden produce, but now peculiarly well adapted
to the safeguarding of prisoners.
The solid stone walls were of sufficient height to afford no chance of
reaching the great oak girders that supported the floor above, even had
the doing so offered a favorable opening for escape. There were,
apparently, but three openings of any kind,--the outside window through
which the sunlight streamed, protected by thick bars of iron; a second
opening, quite narrow, and likewise protected by a heavy metal grating;
and the tightly locked door by means of which I had entered. The
second, I concluded, after inspecting it closely, was a mere air
passage leading into some other division of the cellar. I noted these
openings idly, and with scarcely a thought as to the possibility of
escape. I had awakened with strange indifference as to what my fate
might be. Such a feeling was not natural to me, but the fierce emotions
of the preceding night had seemingly robbed me of all my usual buoyancy
of hope. In one sense I yet trusted that Mrs. Brennan would keep her
pledge and tell her story to Sheridan; if she failed to do this, and
left me to face the rifles or the rope, then it made but small odds how
soon it should be over. If she cared for me in the slightest degree she
would not let me die unjustly, and to my mind then she had become the
centre of all life.
Despondency is largely a matter of physical condition, and I was still
sufficiently fagged to be in the depths, when the door opened suddenly,
and an ordinary army ration was placed within. The soldier who brought
it did not speak, nor did I attempt to address him; but after he
retired, the appetizing smell of the bacon, together with the
unmistakable flavor of real coffee, drew me irrresistibly that way, and
I made a hearty meal. The food put new life into me, and I fell to
pacing back and forth between the corners of the cell, my mind full of
questioning, yet with a fresh measure of confidence that all would
still be well.
I was yet at it when, without warning, the door once again opened, and
Lieutenant Caton entered. He advanced toward me with outstretched hand,
which I grasped warmly, for I felt how much depended on his friendship,
and resolved to ask him some questions which should solve my last
remaining doubts.
"Captain Wayne," he began soberly, looking about him, "you are in even
worse stress here than I had supposed, but I shall see to it that you
are furnished with blankets before I leave."
"You have nothing new, then, to communicate regarding the possibility
of release?" I asked anxiously.
"Alas, no; Brennan appears to hate you with all the animosity of his
strange nature, and his influence is so much stronger than mine that I
have almost been commanded not to mention your name again."
"But surely," I urged, "I am to receive the ordinary privilege of a
prisoner of war? General Sheridan will not condemn me without evidence
or trial, merely because in a moment of sudden anger I used hasty
words, which I have ever since regretted?"
Caton shook his head.
"My dear fellow, it is not that. Sheridan is hasty himself, and his
temper often leads him to rash language. No, I am sure he bears you no
malice for what you said. But Brennan has his ear, and has whispered
something to him in confidence--what, I have been unable to ascertain--
which has convinced him that you are deserving of death under martial
law."
"Without trial?"
"The opportunity of furnishing the information desired will be again
offered you; but, as near as I can learn, the charge preferred against
you is of such a private nature that it is deemed best not to make it
matter for camp talk. Whatever it may be, Sheridan evidently feels
justified in taking the case out from the usual channels, and in using
most drastic measures. I am sorry to bring you such news, especially as
I believe the charges are largely concocted in the brain of him who
makes them, and have but the thinnest circumstantial evidence to
sustain them. Yet Sheridan is thoroughly convinced, and will brook no
interference. The discussion of the case has already led to his using
extremely harsh words to his chief of staff."
"I am to be shot, then?"
His hand closed warmly over mine. "While there is life there is always
hope," he answered. "Surely it must be in your power to prove the
nature of your mission within our lines, and the delay thus gained will
enable us to learn and meet these more serious allegations."
"If I but had time to communicate with General Lee."
"But now--is there no one, no way by which such representation can be
given this very day? If not full proof of your innocence, then
sufficient, at least, to cause the necessary delay?"
I shook my head. "I know of nothing other than my own unsupported
word," I answered shortly, "and that is evidently of no value as
against Major Brennan's secret insinuations. When is the hour set?"
"I am not positive that final decision has yet been reached, but I
heard daybreak to-morrow mentioned. The probability of an early
movement of our troops is the excuse urged for such unseemly haste."
I remained silent for a moment, conscious only of his kindly eyes
reading my face.
"Mrs. Brennan," I asked finally, recurring to the one thought in which
I retained deep interest,--"does she still remain in the camp?"
"She was with the Major at headquarters this morning. I believe they
breakfasted with the General, but I was on duty so late last night that
I overslept, and thus missed the pleasure of meeting her again."
We talked for some time longer, and he continued to urge me for some
further word, but I could give him none, and finally the kindly fellow
departed, promising to see me again within a few hours. Greatly as I
now valued his friendship, it was, nevertheless, a relief to be alone
with my thoughts once more.
CHAPTER XIII
A STRANGE WAY OUT
Caton came in once more about the middle of the afternoon, bringing me
some blankets; but he had no news, and his boyish face was a picture of
pathos as he wrung my hand good-bye. Sheridan, he said, had gone down
the lines, and both Brennan and himself were under orders to follow in
another hour. What instructions, if any, had been left regarding my
case he could not say, but he feared the worst from the unusual
secrecy. Sheridan expected to return to his headquarters that same
evening, as the officers of his staff were to give a grand ball.
I felt no inclination to partake of the rude supper left me, and just
before dark I was lying upon the bench idly wondering if that was to
prove the last vestige of daylight I should ever behold in this world,
when, without slightest warning, the heavy iron grating in the wall
directly above me fell suddenly, striking the edge of the bench, and
clattered noisily to the floor. The fall was so unexpected, and my
escape from injury so narrow, that I lay almost stunned, staring up
helplessly at the dark hole thus left bare. As I gazed, a face framed
itself in this narrow opening, and two wary eyes peered cautiously down
at me. There was no mistaking that countenance even in the fast waning
light, and I instantly sat up with an exclamation of surprise, "Jed
Bungay, as I live!"
The puzzled face broke into a grin of delight.
"Holy smoke, Cap," he ejaculated, with a deep sigh of relief, "'s thet
you, suah? I wus so durned skeered I'd made a mess o' it whin thet thar
iron drapped thet I near died. 'He crossed the threshold--and a clang
of angry steel that instant rang.'"
He peered around cautiously, screwing up his little eyes as though
transforming them into miniature telescopes.
"'If thou wouldst view fair Melrose aright, go visit it by the pale
moonlight.' Be ye all alone, Cap?"
"With the exception of a few rats, yes."
"Whut be they a goin' ter dew with ye?"
"I have every reason to believe it is their purpose to shoot me at
daybreak to-morrow."
"Shoot?--Hell!" He stared at me as if he had just heard his own death
sentence pronounced, and his little peaked face looked ghastly in the
dim light. "Shoot ye? Good Lord, Cap, whut fer? Ye ain't done nothin'
as I knows on, 'cept ter scrap a bit with thet blasted Yank, an' sure
thet's no shootin' matter, er else I'd a bin a goner long ago."
"That 'Yank' has seen fit to charge me with being a spy; and as I was
foolish enough to insult General Sheridan last night, my fate is
probably sealed."
This somewhat complex statement seemed to be too much for Jed to grasp
promptly.
"Gosh, ye don't say!" he muttered. "Then, durn it, I'm in luck, fer all
they've got agin me is pot-shootin' at a nigger soger up in ther
mountings; en thet ain't much, 'cause I didn't hit ther durned cuss.
Blame sorry tew, fer 'Who spills the foremost foeman's life, his party
conquers in the strife.' Thet's Scott agin, Cap. Dew ye ever read Sir
Walter? I tell ye, he's a poet, suah."
Without pausing for a reply, or even noting that none had been given,
Jed was carefully covering every inch of exposed wall with his little
shrewd, glinting eyes.
"Ain't much show ter work out o' yere, is thar, Cap?" he asked at last
reflectively; "leastwise I don't see none, 'less them thar dark corners
hes got holes in 'em."
"The wall is entirely solid."
"So I sorter reckoned. But if ye'll crawl through yere inter my
boodour, thar's a place whar I reckon ther tew of us tergether mought
make a try fer it. It's too durn high up fer me ter git at alone."
I rose to my feet slowly, wondering at the strange lassitude which made
me so indifferent to that life I had always before so highly valued.
Bungay noticed my hopelessness.
"Durned if prison life don't take all the sand out o' a feller," he
said cheerfully. "Blame me, but ye move as if ye wus 'bout half dead.
But I reckon, Cap, if ye cud manage ter git out o' yere ternight, an'
take some news ter Lee thet I've picked up, he'd 'bout make both of us
ginerals. 'Speed, Malise, speed! The dun deer's hide on fleeter foot
was never tied.'"
These words brought back to me in an instantaneous flash the old
dominant military spirit. For Lee! Yes, for Lee I would yet take
chances, undergo fatigue, brave death. If life must be given up, let it
be yielded gallantly in the open, and on behalf of my distant comrades.
"News for Lee?" I exclaimed, staring eagerly at him through the now
darkened room. "Do you mean it? What news?"
"Thought maybe thet wud wake ye up," he chuckled.
"'Speed on the signal, clansman, speed!' Stan' up on ther bench, Cap,
an' put yer ear up yere an' I'LL tell ye. This yere's gospel truth:
Sheridan hes started his infantry on a half-circle march fer
Minersville. Ther first division left et three o'clock, an' thar won't
be nary Yank loafin' en ther valley by noon termorrow. An' more," he
added rapidly, his eyes dancing wildly with suppressed excitement,--
"Hancock is a swingin' of his corps west ter meet 'em thar, an' I
reckon, as how thar'll be hell fer sartain up ther Shenandoah in less
ner a week--es Scott ses, 'the wild sounds of border war.'"
"But how do you know all this?" I questioned incredulously, as the
whole scene and its dread possibilities unrolled before my mental
vision.
"Ther nigger I held up hed a despatch fer Heintzelman over on ther
left, an' then Mariar she sorter pumped a young fule staff officer fer
ther rest o' it," he replied promptly. "Oh, it's a sure go, Cap, an' I
reckon as how maybe Lee's whole army hangs on one of us gittin' out o'
yere ternight.
"'Where, where was Roderick then?
One blast upon his bugle horn
Were worth a thousand men.'"
That he meant every word he spoke I felt convinced, and his enthusiasm
was contagious. My blood leaped within me at this call to action; all
lethargy fled, and with it every deadening thought of her who had so
suddenly woven about me the meshes of her power. False or true, maid,
wife, or widow, my duty as a soldier to my commander and the army to
which I belonged, blotted out all else. Even as this new rush of
determination swept over me, above us there sounded clearly the dashing
music of a military band in the strains of a Strauss's waltz, and we
could distinguish the muffled shuffling of many feet on the oaken floor
overhead. Caton's chance remark about the great ball to be given that
evening by officers of the headquarters staff recurred to my memory.
"That dancing up there will help us, Jed," I said quickly, my mind now
active to grasp every detail. "You say there is a chance for escape
from your cell? Then give me your hand, and help me to crawl through
that hole."
It was a narrow squeeze for a man of my size, yet I crept through
without great difficulty, and found myself in the dense darkness of a
room which, as I judged hastily from feeling about me, was similar in
shape and extent to the one in which I had been confined.
Bungay, however, permitted me little time for exploration. Grasping me
firmly by one arm, and feeling his way along the wall, he groped across
to the other side.
"There's a mighty big stone chimbly comes down yere, Cap," he
whispered, his lips close to my ears, although the noise above made
conversation in an ordinary tone perfectly safe. "An' ther openin' ter
take out soot an' ashes is up thar, jist b'low ther fluer. It's a
sheet-iron pan, I reckon, ther way it feels; an' it must be thar they
put a nigger in ter clean ther chimbly whin it gits stuffed up. I could
git up thar alone, but I couldn't do no work, but thet thar pan ought
ter cum out all right. Dew ye think ye cud hoi' me up, Cap? I'm purty
durn heavy."
I smiled in the darkness at the little fellow's egotism, and lifting
him as I might a child, poised him lightly upon my shoulder. He
struggled a moment to steady himself against the wall, and then I could
feel him tugging eagerly at something which appeared to yield slowly to
his efforts. As he worked, a dense shower of dust and soot caused me to
close my eyes.
"She's a comin' all right," he said cheerfully, puffing with his
exertions, "but I reckon as how this chimbly ain't bin cleaned out
since ther war begun. Hold up yer right han', Cap, an' git a blame good
grip on her, fer she's almighty full, an'll wanter go down sorter easy
like."
I did as he suggested, bracing myself to meet his movements, as he
stood straining on my shoulders, and in another moment I had succeeded
in lowering the large sheet-iron pan silently to the floor.
"Room 'nough yere fer two men ter oncet," chuckled my companion, in
rare delight. "'The chief in silence strode before.' Yere goes."
His weight left my shoulders; there was a slight scramble, another
shower of dirt, then the sound of his voice once more.
"Lift up yer han's, Cap; dig in yer toes on ther stones, an' we'll
begin our vi'ge."
He grasped my wrists with a strength which I had no conception the
little fellow possessed. There was a moment's breathless struggle, and
I squirmed through the opening, and lay panting on the flat slabs which
composed the foot of the great funnel. To afford me more room Bungay
had gone up a little, finding foot-lodgment upon the uneven stones of
which the chimney was constructed. For a moment we rested thus
motionless, both breathing heavily and listening to the music and
shuffling of feet now almost upon a level with our heads.
The noise, which was strong and continuous, rendered discovery from any
misstep highly improbable, and as delay was dangerous neither of us was
disposed to linger long.
"Be ye all ready, Cap?" questioned Bungay, bending his head down. "Fer
if ye be, I'm a goin' up."
"All right," I answered, struggling to my knees in the narrow space;
"only take it slow, Jed. I 'm a trifle bigger man than you, and this is
rather close quarters."
"Wal, yes, maybe a matter of a poun' er two," he retorted, and the next
moment I could hear him scraping his way upward, feeling for foothold
upon the irregular layers of stone. I followed, pressing my knees
firmly against the rough wall, and trusting more to my hands than feet
for security against falling. There was evidently a fireplace of some
kind on the first floor, with a considerable opening leading from it
into the chimney we were scaling, for as Jed slowly passed, I could
perceive a sudden gleam of light streaming across his face from the
glare of the lamps within. He glanced anxiously that way, but did not
pause in his steady climb upward.
A moment later I came opposite that same beam of radiance, and
cautiously peered down the sloped opening that led to the disused
fireplace. All I could perceive was a pair of legs, evidently those of
a cavalry officer, judging from the broad yellow stripe down the seam
of the light-blue trousers, and the high boots ornamented with rowel
spurs. He stood leaning carelessly against the mantel, talking with
some one just beyond the range of my vision.
At that moment the music ceased suddenly, and afraid to proceed until
it should strike up again, I braced myself securely on a projecting
stone and bent my head over the orifice until I could catch a portion
of the conversation being carried on by my unconscious neighbors.
"No," said the cavalryman, gruffly, and apparently in reply to some
previous question, "the fellow was most devilish obstinate; wouldn't
tell the first thing; even a threat of treating him as a spy and
hanging him outright proved of no avail. But Sheridan's theory is that
Lee has ordered Longstreet to hit our rear, while he makes a direct
attack in front. That's why the 'old man' proposes to get in his work
first, and we march at daylight to form connection with Hancock. By
Jove, Chesley, but that woman in black over there with Follansbee is
the handsomest picture I've seen south of the line. Mark how her eyes
sparkle, and how prettily the light gleams in her hair. Who is she, do
you chance to know?"
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