Love under Fire Part 40

"Yes, it was certainly a man, yet I did not really know it until he had carried me, unconscious, down the back stairs into the kitchen. I came to myself then, but remained dazed, and only partially comprehended what occurred. I could see nothing, as he had knotted the cloth about my head so tightly I could hardly breathe. But I could judge something from sounds, and I knew he was a man, because he swore once. I think he intended to leave me lying there, and himself escape through the back door. I know he lifted the bar and looked out. It was then he shut the door again quickly, and became profane. Something he saw outside compelled a change of plan, for he came back quickly, dragged the table to one side, and opened the trap leading down into the cellar. Whoever he was he evidently knew all about the house. Then, he caught me up again, took me down the steps in his arms, and dropped me at the foot, while he ran back and shut the trap. I was nearly smothered by this time, scarcely half conscious, and the man must have realized my condition, for, when he came back, he loosened the wrap about my face.

This enabled me to breathe again freely, but I was so weak I could not get up, and he was obliged to drag me across the cellar floor. I struggled still to escape, and succeeded in getting the cloth lifted so I could see out a little with one eye, but the light was poor, and the man kept hidden behind where I couldn't get even a glimpse of his face."

One of the men pa.s.sed us going back into the kitchen, and she paused a moment until he had gone by, Miles and I waiting impatiently.

"He didn't seem to know what to do with me. I don't think he intended any injury, and only seemed anxious to escape himself. I tried to talk, but he would not answer a word. After the first attempt I was not so much afraid of him, although he was rough enough when I tried to get away. You know how the cellar is divided off into compartments. Well, he discovered the one with the door, where you put your prisoners, and dragged me in there. I knew he meant to close the door and leave me, but he thought me so weak and helpless that, after we were once inside, he walked across to test the iron bars at the windows. I don't know how I did it; I couldn't have stood alone a moment before, but, all at once, it seemed as if I must, and I made the effort. I think I crawled out, for I can scarcely remember now even how it was done, but I slammed the door shut, and dropped the bar across. I heard him pounding and swearing inside, but was certain he couldn't get out. I didn't faint, but I lay down there quite a while, so completely exhausted I could scarcely lift my hand. I could hear him digging at the wood of the door with a knife, and the awful firing outside and up stairs. I knew the house was being attacked, and then when it became quiet again, I was equally sure you had driven the Confederates back. By that time I was able to get to my feet once more, and felt my way forward to the front stairs, for I knew I could never lift the trap. In the hall I met the soldier, and he made me hide here behind the stairs because the fight had begun again."

"And you never saw the man's face, Miss?" questioned the sergeant.

"No; he seemed to try and keep out of sight, and, in the cellar, it was too dark for me to distinguish features a few feet away. He acted as though afraid I might possibly recognize and identify him."

"You can give no description? He reminded you of no one you had ever seen?"

She was trying to think, to recall every detail to memory, but only shook her head.

"He was not a large man, rather slenderly built, but strong; young, I think--the same one I saw before and told you about, Lieutenant Galesworth, and he wore the same uniform."

My eyes turning from her face encountered Miles; and he burst out,

"I'm jiggered if this don't beat me, sir. Of course the lady is telling the truth, but where did that buck ever get one o' our uniforms? We didn't bring no change o' costume along, an' I could tell you now, within ten feet, where every one o' the lads is posted. They ain't any of 'em been long 'nough out o' my sight to pull off this kind of a stunt, an' every mother's son of 'em has got his own clothes on. An'

somehow her description don't just exactly fit any of our boys. Who do you reckon the sucker is?"

"I have given up guessing, Sergeant," I answered brusquely, "and am going to find out. If he is down below in the cellar we will be at the bottom of all this mystery in about three minutes. Come on with me. No, the two of us are enough. Miss Billie, you had better remain here."

"But," catching me by the sleeve, "he is armed; he has a revolver and a knife."

"Don't worry about that," and I caught the restraining hand in my own.

"One of us will open the door, and the other have the fellow covered before he knows what to do. Come on, Miles."

It seemed dark below, descending as we did suddenly from out the glare of the upper hall, and we had to grope our way forward from the foot of the stairs. I saw Billie follow us a few steps, and then stop, leaning over to witness all she could. I was a step or so in advance of Miles, and had drawn my revolver. The cellar was as quiet as a grave. I felt my way along the wall toward where I remembered this special door to be, endeavoring to make no noise. My eyes could discern outlines better by this time, and, as we approached, I became convinced the door we sought stood ajar. I stopped, startled at the unexpected discovery, and began feeling about for the bar; it was not in the socket. What could this mean? Had Billie told us a false story, or had her prisoner, by some magical means, escaped? She had said he was hacking at the wood with a knife; could he have cut a hole through sufficiently large to permit of his lifting the bar? This seemed scarcely possible, yet no other theory suggested itself, and I stepped rather recklessly forward to investigate. My foot struck against a body on the floor, and, but for Miles, I should have fallen. A moment we stood there breathless, and then he struck a match. A man lay at our feet, face downward, clad in Federal cavalry uniform, about him a shallow pool of blood.

CHAPTER x.x.xV

THE DEAD MAN

The match flared out, burning Miles' fingers so he dropped it still glowing on the floor. We could yet distinguish dimly the outlines of the man's form at our feet, and I heard Billie come down the stairs behind us. There was no other sound, except our breathing.

"Strike another, Sergeant," I commanded, surprised by the sound of my own voice, "and we'll see who the fellow is."

He experienced difficulty making it light, but at last the tiny blaze illumined the spot where we stood. I bent over, dreading the task, and turned the dead man's face up to the flare. He was a man of middle age, wearing a closely trimmed chin beard. I failed to recognize the countenance, and glanced up questioningly at Miles just as he uttered an exclamation of surprise.

"It's one of Mahoney's fellows, sir," he a.s.serted sharply. "Burke's the name."

"Then he couldn't possibly be the same man Miss Hardy saw up stairs that first time."

"No, sir, this don't help none to clear that affair up. But it's Burke all right, an' he's had a knife driven through his heart. What do you ever suppose he could 'a' been doin' down here?"

"Where was he stationed?"

"He was with me till that last shindy started; then when you called for more men in the kitchen I sent him an' Flynn out there."

Miles lit a third match, and I looked about striving to piece together the evidence. I began to think I understood something of what had occurred. This soldier, Burke, was a victim, not an a.s.sailant. He lay with his hand still clasping the bar which had locked the door. He had been stabbed without warning, and whoever did the deed had escaped over the dead body. I stepped back to where I could see the full length of the cellar; the trap door leading up into the kitchen stood wide open.

Convinced this must be the way Burke had come down, I walked over to the narrow stairs, and thrust my head up through the opening. There were six men in the room, and they stared at me in startled surprise, but came instantly to their feet.

"When did Burke go down cellar?" I asked briefly.

The man nearest turned to his fellows, and then back toward me, feeling compelled to answer.

"'Bout ten minutes ago, wasn't it, boys?"

"Not mor 'n that, sir."

"What was he after?"

"Well, we got sorter dry after that las' scrimmage, an' Jack here said he reckoned thar'd be something ter drink down stairs; he contended that most o' these yer ol' houses had plenty o' good stuff hid away. Finally Burke volunteered to go down, an' see what he could find. We was waitin'

fer him to com' back. What's happened ter Burke, sir?"

"Knifed."

"Killed! Burke killed! Who did it?"

"That is exactly what I should like to find out. There is some one in this house masquerading in our uniform who must be insane. He killed a Confederate captain this morning, crushed in his skull with a revolver b.u.t.t, and now he has put a knife into Burke. Has any one come up these steps?"

"Not a one, sir."

"And I was at the head of the other stairs. Then he is hiding in the cellar yet."

Suddenly I remembered that Billie was below exposed to danger; in that semi-darkness the murderous villain might creep upon her un.o.bserved.

The thought sent a cold chill to my heart, and I sprang down again to the stone floor.

"Three of you come down, and bring up the body," I called back. "Then we'll hunt the devil."

She had not left the lower step of the front stairs, but caught my hands as though the darkness, the dread uncertainty, had robbed her of all reserve.

"What is it?" she asked. "I do not understand what has happened."

"The man you locked up has escaped," I explained, holding her tightly to me, the very trembling of her figure yielding me courage. "I haven't the entire story, but this must be the way of it: One of the men on duty in the kitchen came down here hunting for liquor. Either the prisoner called to him, and got him to open the door, or else he took down the bar while searching. Anyway we found the door ajar, and the soldier dead."

"Then--then the--the other one is down here somewhere still," cowering closer against me, and staring about through the gloom. "Who--who are those men?"

"Soldiers coming for Burke's body--he was the trooper killed. Don't be afraid, dear--I am here with you now."

"Oh, I know; I would not be frightened, only it is all so horrible. I am never afraid when I can see and understand what the danger is. You do not believe me a silly girl?"

"You are the one woman of my heart, Billie," I whispered, bending until my lips brushed her ear. "Don't draw away, little girl. This is no time to say such things, I know, but all our life together has been under fire. It is danger which has brought us to each other."

"Oh, please, please don't."