"Miss Lou" Part 13

"P'raps w'en de min'ster see dat he woan mar'y you."

"That's just my hope," said the girl, "I--"

A quick step was heard and a moment later Mrs. Baron entered the cabin.

Ostensibly she came for some of the articles which Aun' Jinkey had ironed, but Miss Lou knew she was under surveillance and she departed without a word. On entering her room she found that her little trunk had been packed and locked in her absence and that the key was gone.

She felt that it was but another indignity, another phase of the strong quiet pressure urging her toward the event she so dreaded. A hunted, half-desperate look came into her eyes, but she did not waver in her purpose.

Mrs. Whately knocked, but the girl would not admit her.

Meanwhile Mrs. Baron said to Aun' Jinkey in parting, "See to it that you don't put foolish notions in my niece's head. We are none of us in a mood for trifling to-day."

Then the old woman's wrath burst out. "You 'speck I'se feared ter speak fer dat chile w'at stan' by me so? Bettah be keerful yosef, mistis; you alls gittin' on ve'y scarey groun' wid Miss Lou. You tink you kin do wid her w'at you pleases des ez ef she a lil gyurl baby. I reck'n her moder come out'n her grabe ter look arter you ef you ain' keerful."

"What do you mean by such language?"

"I mean des dis, mistis. Ef you tinks Miss Lou ole anuff ter mar'y you know she ain' a chile. Ef she ain' a chile she a woman. Does you tink you kin tromple on a woman? You kin tromple on me en I am' sayin'

not'n, but you kyant tromple on a wi'te woman like yosef. I tells you you gittin' on scarey groun' wid Miss Lou."

"If you both had sense you would know we are getting her off scarey ground, as you call it. All you have to do is to obey my orders and not meddle."

"Ve'y well, mistis, I'se warn you," said Aun' Jinkey, sullenly returning to her work.

"Warn me of what?" But the old woman would not vouchsafe another word.

Mrs. Baron returned to the house, her lips compressed with a firmer purpose to maintain discipline on deck till the ship went down, if that was to be the end. Combined with her cold, unimaginative temperament was a stronger and more resolute spirit than that of her husband, who now was chiefly governed by his lifelong habit of persistence. He adhered to his purposes as a man at sea clings to the ship which he feels is going to pieces beneath him.

Chunk and Scoville reached the Union camp in the gray dawn of the morning, and the latter soon had an audience with the commanding officer, with whom he was a favorite scout. The small party which had been compelled to leave Scoville behind had brought important information, gained chiefly by the young man's daring and address, and the general was very glad to see him again and to be a.s.sured of his escape.

"We are ready to move," said the commander, "and the information brought in by your party has decided me to bear off to the southeast in order to meet the enemy approaching from the southwest. As soon as you are rested, Lieutenant Scoville--"

"Sir! what?"

"Yes, I had recommended you for promotion and the order has come."

"If zeal in your service, sir"--began the scout flushing proudly.

"Yes, yes, I understand all that. I remember the men who serve me well.

As soon as you're able to start out in the same direction again I would like you to do so."

"I'm able now," said Scoville eagerly, and then he briefly related the situation of affairs at The Oaks, concluding, "If I had twenty-five men I believe I could not only prevent the marriage but capture all the Confederates with their information. They have been scouting up toward us just as we were toward the enemy."

"All right," said the general, laughing. "Perhaps the marriage may come off yet, only with another groom."

"No, sir," said Scoville, gravely. "The girl befriended me in my sore need. She is as good and innocent as a child, and I would shield and respect her as I would my own sister."

"That's the right spirit, Lieutenant. I was not sure how far matters had gone--in fact, was only jesting."

Scoville made a hearty breakfast, and within an hour, at the head of over a score of men, was rapidly retracing his steps, Chunk following in a state of wild elation. They both had been furnished with fresh horses, and the tough, elastic sinews of the newly-fledged officer were tense with an unwonted excitement. If those tearful blue eyes of Miss Lou should welcome him as deliverer this would be the most memorable day of his life.

CHAPTER XII

A WHIRLWIND OF EVENTS

Whately returned wearing a rather gloomy and angry aspect. He had threatened his negroes and stormed at them; they had listened in sullen silence. The overseer had said, "Hit's the old story. They have heard that the Yanks are near and may come this way. Fact is, one doesn't know what they haven't heard. They hold together and keep mum. You can see that all discipline is at an end among 'em."

Whately could only give the man such directions as the emergency dictated, obtain some valuables, and return chafed and all the more bent upon securing out of the possible wreck the one object he most coveted. But Miss Lou puzzled him and perplexed them all. She had taken refuge in almost absolute silence, and was as unresponsive to Mrs.

Whately's endearments as to her uncle and aunt's expostulations, while toward Whately she was positively freezing in her coldness. Troubled and inwardly enraged, he was yet more than ever determined to carry out his purpose. His orders to his men were given sharply and sternly, and his mood was so fierce that there was no longer any affectation or a.s.sumption on his part. The girl's heart fluttered with nameless fears, but she had the strength of will to maintain the cold, impa.s.sive demeanor she had resolved upon. She felt that it would be useless to make further effort to influence her kindred, and that if she revealed her purpose to appeal to the clergyman, they might so prejudice his mind against her that he would not listen favorably. Fearing that this might be the case anyway, she found her thoughts turning with increasing frequency to the possible intervention of the Union scout.

She both hoped for and feared his coming, supported as he would be, in this instance, by followers who might be so different from himself. She could not free her mind from the influence of the stories about Northern soldiers, and yet she was sure that as far as his power went, they would all be protected. Indeed, one danger menaced so closely and threateningly she could scarcely think of anything else than escape and relief from it.

As the sun began to sink in the west her uncle came to her door and said authoritatively, "Louise, I wish you to come down."

She obeyed without a word and entered the parlor where all were a.s.sembled, noting with dismay that the Rev. Dr. Williams was already present. Her cousin sought to meet her gallantly, but she evaded him and took a seat. Mr. Baron began a sort of harangue. "Louise," he said, "as your guardian and in obedience to my sense of duty in a great responsibility, I have approved of this marriage. I am convinced that the time will speedily come when you will be glad that I--that we all--were firm at this time. Both I and your aunt are growing old.

Troubles, sore indeed even for the young to endure, are upon us. I am not sure that a roof will cover our gray hairs much longer. Perhaps in the dead of this very night the ruthless enemy may come. Now, your aunt Whately's carriage is at the door. A gallant soldier and a Confederate officer, the choice of all your kindred, is eager to give you his name and loving protection. He will take you far away from war's rude alarms, with its attendant and horrible perils. We have no common foe to deal with, but monsters animated by unquenchable hatred and a diabolical spirit. I should betray my trust and be recreant to my duty did I not avail myself of the one avenue of safety still open to you.

See, your cousin's brave men are mounted, armed, and ready to act as your escort. Dr. Williams is here to perform his good offices, although other invited friends have not ventured from home in this time of peril which recent tidings prove to be increasing every hour. In a few moments you will be an honored wife, on your way to a place of refuge, instead of a helpless girl whose defenders may soon be scattered or dead."

"Truly, Miss Baron," said the clergyman, rising and approaching, "you cannot hesitate in circ.u.mstances like these."

Miss Lou felt her tongue clinging to the roof of her mouth, and could only say in a hoa.r.s.e whisper, "But I do not love my cousin--I do not wish to marry."

"That may be your feeling at this moment. Indeed, circ.u.mstances are not conducive to gentle amatory feelings, and all may seem sudden and hasty to you, but you must consider that your relatives in this emergency--indeed that all your neighbors--are doing many things and taking many precautions that would not be thought of in a time of security. I have already sent my own family further South, and now in your case and Mrs. Whately's I feel that time is pressing. Will you please rise and take your cousin by the hand?"

She shook her head and remained motionless. Whately advanced decisively, took her hand, and sought gently to draw her into position before the clergyman. His touch broke the spell, the paralysis of dread, and she burst out, "No, no, you cannot marry me when my whole soul protests. I will not be married!"

"Louise, I command you," began Mr. Baron excitedly.

"It makes no difference. I will not! I will not!" was the pa.s.sionate and almost despairing response.

"Oh, come, cousin, you are just excited, frightened, and off your balance," said Whately soothingly.

"My dear Miss Baron," added the clergyman, "let me rea.s.sure you. It is evident that you are a little nervous and hysterical. Pray be calm and trust your relatives to do what is best for you. I do not wonder that your nerves have given way and that--"

"My nerves have not given way. Unfriended child that I am, I must not lose self-control. G.o.d grant that my WILL does not give way."

"Unfriended!" exclaimed Mrs. Whately reproachfully. "Few girls in these times have so many to care and think for them. We are all bent on securing your welfare at every cost."

"Yes, at every cost to me."

"Dr. Williams sees the wisdom and reasonableness of our course. My son is even straining his sense of military duty to escort us to a place of safety, where you will still be among relatives."

"Then let him escort me as his cousin, not his wife," cried the girl.

"But, Miss Baron, in the turmoil and confusion which may ensue you will be far safer as his wife," Dr. Williams urged. "I would have been glad if I could have given my daughter like protection. Truly, it is not wise to be swayed by mere nervous excitement at such a time."

"Oh, even you, from whom I hoped so much, are against me!"