An Original Belle Part 24

"Bring it then, Barney, and you shall go on the force; for you're a fine, strong-looking man,--the kind needed in these days," said Mr. Vosburgh, glad to do a good turn for one who unwittingly had rendered him so great a service, and also amused at this later aspect of the affair.

This amus.e.m.e.nt was greatly enhanced by observing Barney's proud, triumphant glance at Sally. Turning quickly to note its effect on the girl, Mr. Vosburgh caught the coquettish maid in the act of making a grimace at her much-tormented suitor.

Sally's face again became scarlet, and in embarra.s.sed haste she began to clear the table.

Barney was retiring slowly, evidently wishing for an interview with his elusive charmer before he should return to his present employers, and Mr. Vosburgh good-naturedly put in a word in his favor.

"Stay, Barney, and have some supper before you go home. In behalf of Mrs. Vosburgh I give you a cordial invitation."

"Yes," added the lady, who had been quietly laughing. "Now that you are to be so greatly promoted we shall be proud to have you stay."

Barney doffed his hat and exclaimed, "Long loife to yez all, es.p.a.cially to the swate-faced young leddy that first spoke a good wourd for me, oi'm a-thinkin';" and he stepped lightly around to the rear of the house.

"Sally," said Mr. Vosburgh, with preternatural gravity.

The girl courtesied and nearly dropped a dish.

"Mr. Barney Ghegan will soon be receiving a large salary."

Sally courtesied again, but her black eyes sparkled as she whisked the rest of the things from the table and disappeared. She maintained her old tactics during supper and before the other servants, exulting in the fact that the big, strong man was on pins and needles, devoid of appet.i.te and peace.

"'Afeared o' no mon,' he says," she thought, smilingly. "He's so afeared o' me that he's jist a tremblin'."

After her duties were over, Barney said, mopping his brow: "Faix, but the noight is warm. A stroll in the air wudn't be bad, oi'm a-thinkin'."

"Oi'm cool as a cowc.u.mber," remarked Sally. "We'll wait for ye till ye goes out and gits cooled off;" and she sat down complacently, while the cook and the laundress t.i.ttered.

An angry sparkle began to a.s.sert itself in Barney's blue eyes, and he remarked drily, as he took his hat, "Yez moight wait longer than yez bargained for."

The shrewd girl saw that she was at the length of her chain, and sprung up, saying: "Oh, well, since the mistress invited ye so politely, ye's company, and it's me duty to thry to entertain ye.

Where shall we go?" she added, as she pa.s.sed out with him.

"To the rustic sate, sure. Where else shud we go?"

"A rustic sate is a quare place for a stroll."

"Oi shall have so much walkin' on me bate in New York, that it's well to begin settin' down aready, oi'm a-thinkin'."

"Why, Barney, ye're going to be a reg'lar tramp. Who'd 'a thought that ye'd come down to that."

"Ah! arrah, wid ye nonsense! Sit ye down here, for oi'm a-goin' to spake plain the noight. Noo, by the Holy Vargin, oi'm in arenest.

Are ye goin' to blow hot, or are ye goin' to blow could?"

"Considerin' the hot night, Barney, wouldn't it be better for me to blow could?"

Barney scratched his head in perplexity. "Ye know what I mane," he e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed.

"Where will ye foind the girl that tells all she knows?"

"O Sally, me darlint, what's the use of batin' around the bush?

Ye know that a cat niver looked at crame as oi look on ye," said Barney, in a wheedling tone, and trying the tactics of coaxing once more.

He sat down beside her and essayed with his insinuating arm to further his cause as his words had not done.

"Arrah, noo, Barney Ghegan, what liberties wud ye be takin' wid a respectable girl?" and she drew away decidedly.

He sprung to his feet and exploded in the words: "Sally Maguire, will ye be me woife? By the holy poker! Answer, yis or no."

Sally rose, also, and in equally p.r.o.nounced tones replied: "Yes, Barney Ghegan, I will, and I'll be a good and faithful one, too.

It's yeself that's been batin' round the bush. Did ye think a woman was a-goin' to chase ye over hill and down dale and catch ye by the scruff of the neck? What do ye take me for?"

"Oi takes ye for better, Sally, me darlint;" and then followed sounds suggesting the popping of a dozen champagne corks.

Mr. Vosburgh, his wife, and Marian had been chatting quietly on the piazza, unaware of the scene taking place in the screening shrubbery until Barney's final question had startled the night like a command to "stand and deliver."

Repressing laughter with difficulty they tiptoed into the house and closed the door.

CHAPTER XVIII.

A GIRL'S STANDARD.

THE month of September, 1862, was a period of strong excitement and profound anxiety on both sides of the vague and shifting line which divided the loyal North from the misguided but courageous South. During the latter part of August Gen. Pope had been overwhelmed with disaster, and what was left of his heroic army was driven within the fortifications erected for the defence of Washington. Apparently the South had unbounded cause for exultation.

But a few weeks before their capital had been besieged by an immense army, while a little to the north, upon the Rappahannock, rested another Union army which, under a leader like Stonewall Jackson, would have been formidable enough in itself to tax Lee's skill and strength to the utmost. Except in the immediate vicinity of the capital and Fortress Monroe scarcely a National soldier had been left in Virginia. The Confederates might proudly claim that the generalship of Lee and the audacity of Jackson had swept the Northern invaders from the State.

Even more important than the prestige and glory won was the fact that the Virginian farmers were permitted to gather their crops unmolested. The rich harvests of the Shenandoah Valley and other regions, that had been and should have been occupied by National troops, were allowed to replenish the Confederate granaries. There were rejoicings and renewed confidence in Southern homes, and smiles of triumph on the faces of sympathizers abroad and throughout the North.

But the astute leaders of the Rebellion were well aware that the end had not yet come, and that, unless some bold, paralyzing blow was struck, the struggle was but fairly begun. In response to the request for more men new armies were springing up at the North. The continent shook under the tread of hosts mustering with the stern purpose that the old flag should cover every inch of the heritage left by our fathers.

Therefore, Lee was not permitted to remain on the defensive a moment, but was ordered to cross the Potomac in the rear of Washington, threatening that city and Baltimore. It was supposed that the advent of a Southern army into Maryland would create such an enthusiastic uprising that thinned ranks would be recruited, and the State brought into close relation with the Confederate Government. These expectations were not realized. The majority sympathized with Barbara Frietchie,

"Bravest of all in Frederick town,"

rather than with their self-styled deliverers; and Lee lost more by desertion from his own ranks than he gained in volunteers. In this same town of Frederick, by strange carelessness on the part of the rebels, was left an order which revealed to McClellan Lee's plans and the positions which his divided army were to occupy during the next few days. Rarely has history recorded such opportunities as were thus accidentally given to the Union commander.

The ensuing events proved that McClellan's great need was not the reinforcements for which he so constantly clamored, but decision and energy of character. Had he possessed these qualities he could have won for himself, from the fortuitous order which fell into his hands, a wreath of unfading laurel, and perhaps have saved almost countless lives of his fellow-countrymen. As it was, if he had only advanced his army a little faster, the twelve thousand Union soldiers, surrendered by the incompetent and pusillanimous Gen.

Miles, would have been saved from the horrors of captivity and secured as a valuable reinforcement. To the very last, fortune appeared bent on giving him opportunity. The partial success won on the 17th of September, at the battle of Antietam, might easily have been made a glorious victory if McClellan had had the vigor to put in enough troops, especially including Burnside's corps, earlier in the day. Again, on the morning of the 18th, he had only to take the initiative, as did Grant after the first day's fighting at Shiloh, and Lee could scarcely have crossed the Potomac with a corporal's guard. But, as usual, he hesitated, and the enemy that robbed him of one of the highest places in history was not the Confederate general or his army, but a personal trait,--indecision.

In the dawn of the 19th he sent out his cavalry to reconnoitre, and learned that his antagonist was safe in Virginia. Fortune, wearied at last, finally turned her back upon her favorite. The desperate and b.l.o.o.d.y battle resulted in little else than the ebb of the tide of war southward. Northern people, it is true, breathed more freely. Philadelphia, Baltimore, and Washington were safe for the present, but this seemed a meagre reward for millions of treasure and tens of thousands of lives, especially when the capture of Richmond and the end of the Rebellion had been so confidently promised.

If every village and hamlet in the land was profoundly stirred by these events, it can well be understood that the commercial centre of New York throbbed like an irritated nerve under the telegraph wires concentring there from the scenes of action. Every possible interest, every variety of feeling, was touched in its vast and heterogeneous population, and the social atmosphere was electrical with excitement.