Before the Dawn Part 22

"You two must go into the next room!"

She made a gesture so commanding that they obeyed her without a word.

Prescott did not realize what he was doing until he heard the door close behind him and saw that he was alone with Miss Catherwood in a little room in which the two women evidently slept. Then as the red blood dyed his brow he turned and would have gone back.

"Miss Catherwood, I do not hide from any one," he said, all his ingrained pride swelling up.

"It is best, Captain Prescott," she said quietly. "Not for your sake, but for that of two women whom you would not bring to harm."

A note of pathetic appeal appeared in her voice, and, hesitating, he was lost. He remained and watched her as she stood there in the centre of the room, her hand resting lightly upon the back of a chair and all her senses alert. The courage, the strength, the masculine power returned suddenly to her, and he had the feeling that he was in the presence of a woman who was the match for any man, even in his own special fields.

She was listening intently, and her figure, instinct with life and strength, seemed poised as if she were about to spring. The pallor in her cheeks was replaced by a glow and her eyes were alight. Here was a woman of fire and pa.s.sion, a woman to whom danger mattered little, but to whom waiting was hard.

The sound of voices, one short and harsh and the other calm and even, came to them through the thin wall. The composed tones he knew were those of Miss Grayson, and the other, by the accent, the note of command, belonged to an officer. They talked on, but the words were not audible to either in the inner room.

His injured pride returned. It was not necessary for him to hide from any one, and he would go back and face the intruder, whoever he might be. He moved and his foot made a slight sound on the floor. Miss Catherwood turned upon him quickly, even with anger, and held up a warning finger. The gesture was of fierce command, and it said as plain as day, "Be still!" Instinctively he obeyed.

He had no fear for himself; he never thought then of any trouble into which discovery there might lead him, but the unspoken though eager question on his lips was to her: "What will _you_ do if we are found?"

The voices went on, one harsh, commanding, the other calm, even argumentative; but the att.i.tude of the woman beside Prescott never changed. She stood like a lithe panther, tense, waiting.

The harsh voice sank presently as if convinced, and they heard the sound of retreating footsteps, and then the bang of the front door as if slammed in disappointment.

"Now we can go back," said Miss Catherwood, and opening the door she led the way into the reception room, where Miss Grayson half lay in a chair, deadly pale and collapsed.

"What was it, Charlotte?" asked Miss Catherwood in a protecting voice, laying her hand with a soothing gesture upon Miss Grayson's head.

Miss Grayson looked up and smiled weakly.

"It lasted just a little too long for my nerves," she said. "It was, I suppose, what you might call a domiciliary visit. The man was an officer with soldiers, though he had the courtesy to leave the men at the door.

He saw a light shining through a front window and thought he ought to search. I'm a suspect, a dangerous woman, you know--marked to be watched, and he hoped to make a capture. But I demanded his right, his orders--even in war there is a sort of law. I had been searched once, I said, and nothing was found; then it was by the proper authorities, but now he was about to exceed his orders. I insisted so much on my rights, at the same time declaring my innocence, that he became frightened and went away; but, oh, Lucia, I am more frightened now than he ever was!"

Miss Catherwood soothed her and talked to her protectingly and gently, as a mother to her frightened child, while Prescott admired the voice and the touch that could be at once so tender and so strong.

But the courageous half in Miss Grayson's dual nature soon recovered its rule over the timid half and she sat erect again, making apologies for her collapse.

"You see, now, Captain Prescott," said Miss Catherwood, still leaving a protecting hand upon Miss Grayson's shoulders, "that I was right when I wanted you to leave us. We cannot permit you to compromise yourself in our behalf and we do not wish it. You ran a great risk to-night. You might not fare so well the next time."

Her tone was cold, and, chilled by it, Prescott replied:

"Miss Catherwood, I may have come where I was not wanted, but I shall not do so again."

He walked toward the door, his head high. Miss Grayson looked at Miss Catherwood in surprise.

The girl raised her hand as if about to make a detaining gesture, but she let it drop again, and without another word Prescott pa.s.sed out of the house.

One of the formal receptions, occurring twice a month, was held the next evening by the President of the Confederacy and his wife. Prescott and all whom he knew were there.

The parlours were crowded already with people--officers, civilians, curious transatlantic visitors--and more than one workman in his rough coat, for all the world was asked to come to the President's official receptions. They had obeyed the order, too, and came with their bravest faces and bravest apparel. In the White House of the Confederacy there were few somber touches that night.

The President and his wife, he elderly and severe of countenance, she young and mild, received in one of the parlours all who would shake the hand of Mr. Davis. It was singularly like a reception at that other White House on the Potomac, and the South, in declaring that she would act by herself, still followed the old patterns.

It was a varied gathering, varied in appearance, manners and temper. The official and civil society of the capital never coalesced well. The old families of Richmond, interwoven with nearly three centuries of life in Virginia, did not like all these new people coming merely with the stamp of the Government upon them, which was often, so they thought, no stamp at all; but with the ceaseless and increasing pressure from the North they met now on common ground at the President's official reception, mingling without constraint.

Prescott danced three times with Helen Harley and walked twice with her in the halls. She was at her best that night, beautiful in a gentle, delicate way, but she did not whip his blood like a wind from the hills, and he was surprised to find how little bitterness he felt when he saw her dancing with Mr. Sefton or walking with the great cavalry General like a rose in the shadow of an oak. But he loved her, he told himself again; she was the one perfect woman in the world, the one whom he must make his wife, if he could. These men were not to be blamed for loving her, too; they could not help it.

Then his eye roved to Colonel Harley, who, unlike General Wood, was as much at home here as in the field, his form expanding, his face in a glow, paying a.s.siduous attention to Mrs. Markham, who used him as she would. He watched them a little, and, though he liked Mrs. Markham, he reflected that he would not be quite so complacent if he were in General Markham's place.

Presently Talbot tapped him on the shoulder, saying:

"Come outside."

"Why should I go out into the cold?" replied Prescott. "I'm not going to fight a duel with you."

"No, but you're going to smoke a cigar with me, a genuine Havana at that, a chance that you may not have again until this war ends. A friend just gave them to me. They came on a blockade runner last week by way of Charleston."

They walked back and forth to keep themselves warm. A number of people, drawn by the lights and the music, were lingering in the street before the house, despite the cold. They were orderly and quiet, not complaining because others were in the warmth and light while they were in the cold and dark. Richmond under the pressure of war was full of want and suffering, but she bred no mobs.

"Let's go back," said Talbot presently. "My cigar is about finished and I'm due for this dance with Mrs. Markham."

"Mine's not," replied Prescott, "and I'm not due for the dance with anybody, so I think I'll stay a little longer."

"All right; I must go."

Talbot went in, leaving his friend alone beside the house. Prescott continued to smoke the unfinished cigar, but that was not his reason for staying. He remained motionless at least five minutes, then he threw the cigar b.u.t.t on the ground and moved farther along the side of the house, where he was wholly in shadow. His pretense of calm, of a lack of interest, was gone. His muscles were alert and his eye keen to see. He had on his military cap and he drew his cloak very closely about him until it shrouded his whole face and figure. He might pa.s.s unnoticed in a crowd.

Making a little circuit, he entered the street lower down, and then came back toward the house, sauntering as if he were a casual looker-on. No one noticed him, and he slid into a place in the little crowd, where he stood for a few moments, then made his way toward a tall figure near the fence.

When he was beside the house with Talbot he had seen that face under a black hood, looking over the fence, and the single glance was sufficient. Now he stood beside her and put his hand upon her arm as if he had come there with her, that no one might take notice.

She started, looked up into his face, checked a cry and was silent, though he could feel the arm quivering under the touch of his fingers.

"Why are you here?" he asked in a strained whisper. "Do you not know better than to leave Miss Grayson's house, and, above all, to come to this place? Are you a mad woman?"

Anger was mixed with his alarm. She seemed at that moment a child who had disobeyed him. She shrank a little at his words, but turned toward him luminous eyes, in which the appeal soon gave way to an indignant fire.

"Do you know what it is to stay in hiding--to be confined within the four walls of one room?" she said, and her voice was more intense even than his had been. "Do you know what it is to sit in the dark and the cold when you love the warmth and the light and the music? I saw you and the other man and the satisfaction on your faces. Do you think that you alone were made for enjoyment?"

Prescott looked at her in surprise, such was the fire and intensity of her tone and so unexpected was her reply. He had a.s.sociated her with other fields of action, more strenuous phases of life than this of the ballroom, the dance and the liquid flow of music. All at once he remembered that she was a woman like another woman there in the ballroom in silken skirts and with a rose in her hair. Unconsciously he placed her by the side of Helen Harley.

"But the danger!" he said at last. "You are hunted, woman though you are, and Richmond is small. At such a time as this every strange form is noted."

"I am not afraid," she replied, and a peculiar kind of pride rang in her tone. "If I am sought as a criminal it does not follow that I am such."

"And you have left Miss Grayson alone?"

"Miss Grayson has often been alone. She may dislike loneliness, but she does not fear it. Listen, they are dancing again!"