Love under Fire Part 13

"Certainly; I should be a poor specimen if I did not. But I am going to say good-bye to you first, and then lie here quietly until you are safely in the house."

She drew in a quick breath, her face lifting.

"The house! I am going to remain here."

"But the risk you run, and you can be of no help."

"Oh, don't argue!" impatiently. "There is no more risk of my discovery here than there. I want to know what happens; I would rather face anything than suspense. Lieutenant Galesworth, I have always had my way, and I shall now."

Down in my heart I rejoiced at her decision, but all I said was:

"Very well, Miss Willifred, it makes me feel like a knight going forth to battle under the eyes of his lady." The slight flutter of a ribbon at her throat caught my eye, and I touched it with my finger. "May I wear this in token of your good wishes?"

"You--you are not going to kill any one?"

"Not if it can possibly be avoided."

She was silent a moment, so still I could hear her breathing; then her hands undid the ribbon knot, and she held it toward me.

"I--I do wish you well," she said softly. "I--don't know why, but I do."

CHAPTER XIII

I MEET LE GAIRE

My hand touching her own seemed to work a sudden transformation. She was instantly upon her feet facing me, drawing back a little against the grape arbor.

"Do not take my words so seriously," she exclaimed. "I am excited, almost hysterical to-night. To-morrow I shall regret much I have done and said. But you must go, Lieutenant; every moment of delay adds to your peril and mine. No; please do not touch me or speak to me again; only listen--there is a bridle path leading directly from the farther corner of the stable to the river; a gate will let you out of the orchard lot; now go!"

"You will not even shake hands?" "I--I--yes, of course, I will do that."

Our fingers clasped, and we stood face to face, our eyes meeting through the darkness. The thrill of contact, the wild hope that this girl really cared unusually for me, became almost overpowering. I longed to crush her in my arms, to pour into her ears the pa.s.sionate words that burned on my lips. I forgot everything except her presence, her nearness, the soft pressure of her hand.

"Billie! Billie!"

"No! No!" and she had instantly released herself. "You forget yourself; you forget my position. Now it is good-bye."

"You positively mean this?"

"I do. I am a soldier's daughter, Lieutenant Galesworth, and I am trusting you to act as a soldier and a gentleman."

Under the cloak of darkness my face burned, feeling the reproof of this appeal, realizing that I merited the sting. For the instant my actions, my presumption, seemed contemptible. I had taken advantage of her kindness, her sympathy, her trust, and openly misconstrued womanly friendliness into a stronger emotion. The rebuke was perfectly just; I could not even find words of apology, but turned away silently. And she made no effort to stay me, either by word or motion.

I had crept forward as far as the low fence before the numbness left me, before I came back to full comprehension of my situation, and the serious work confronting me. Then the soldier spirit reawoke into alert action, my thought intent upon escape, my nerves steadying down for the coming trial. I recall glancing back, imagining I saw the white glimmer of her dress against the dark shrubbery, and then I resolutely drove all memory of her from my mind, concentrating every instinct to the one immediate purpose of overcoming the stable guard. This was not altogether new work to one inured as a scout, but sufficiently serious to call forth every precaution. Cautiously I crept along the fence until I discovered an opening large enough to crawl through, scarcely rustling the concealing leaves, and resting flat on the opposite side while I surveyed the prospect. I was not far now from the south wall of the stable, which loomed black and shapeless against the sky. Not a movement revealed the whereabouts of the guard, and, with the girl's description to guide me, I concluded the fellow would be stationed at the other extremity of the building. Convinced as to this probability I dragged my body slowly forward until I could touch the log wall. I could see better now, being myself in the denser shadow, and knew the pa.s.sage was clear to the corner.

a.s.sured of this I rose to my feet, revolver in hand, and pressing close against the side of the building, advanced quickly and silently. At the corner I peered about, scarcely daring to breathe, but with heart pounding, as I caught sight of the fellow, not over three feet distant.

He was seated on an overturned bucket, his back toward me, both hands clasping a musket, his head bent slightly forward. He seemed listening to some noise in the distance, totally unconscious of my approach. The man's fingers were nowhere near the trigger of his gun, and my straining eyes could perceive no sign of any other weapon. This had to be silent work--silent and swift. With one step forward I had my revolver pressed hard against his cheek, my other hand crushing his fingers to the musket.

"Keep quiet, man! Not a move! I'll blow your head off if you lift a hand!"

"Oh! Good G.o.d!"

He was but little more than a boy; I could see his face now under the slouch hat, and I had already frightened the life half out of him.

"Drop your gun! Now stand up!" He obeyed like an automaton, his brain seemingly paralyzed. There was nothing to fear from this fellow, yet I knew better than to become careless--terror has been known to drive men crazy. I caught him by the collar, whirling him about, my Colt still at his ear.

"Go straight to the stable door, son!"

"Who--who are you? W--what do you want?"

"Don't stop to ask questions--you trot, unless you want to get hurt. Do you hear me?--the stable door! That's it; now undo the b.u.t.ton, open the door, and go inside."

I held him like a vice, a.s.sured his belt contained no weapons, and thrust him forward against the wall. He was so helpless in my grasp that it was like handling a child.

"Feel along there--higher up--and tell me what you find. Well, what is it?"

"A--a bridle," his voice barely audible.

"Halter strap on it?"

"Yes, sir."

"Take it off, and hand it back here. Now go on, and feel the next stake."

"There's a blanket, and--and a rope halter."

"Good! give me that; now, son, put both hands back here, cross the wrists. Come, stand up to it; this is better than getting killed, isn't it? Now here is a nice soft spot to lie on, and I guess you'll remain there for a while. Do you want me to gag you, or will you keep still?"

"I'll--I'll keep still!"

"Well, be sure you do; your life isn't worth a picayune if you raise any row."

I arose to my feet, confident the boy had been safely disposed of, and feeling blindly around in the darkness, seeking to locate the stalls.

At that instant a horse neighed outside; then I heard the sound of hoofs pounding on soft soil. Whoever the fellow was, he was almost there--coming up at a trot, just back of the stables. My brain worked in a flash--there was but once chance to stave off discovery. With a bound I was beside the boy, and had jerked off his hat, jamming it down on my own head, as I muttered in his ear, "One word from you now, and you'll never speak again--don't take the chance!"

I leaped for the door, and grasped the musket, barely straightening up, as the oncoming horseman swung around the corner. It was a desperate chance, yet in this darkness he could scarcely distinguish color of uniform or shape of features. It might work; it was worth trying. I saw the dim outlines of horse and rider in a red glow, as though the latter held a cigar between his lips; then I swung forward my gun.

"Halt! who comes?"

Startled by the sudden challenge, the horse reared to the sharp jerk at the reins, the man uttering an oath as he struggled to control the beast.

"h.e.l.l! What's this?"

"A sentry post; answer up, or I'll call the guard--who are you?"

"An officer on special service." "Dismount, and give the word."