"Miss Lou" Part 14

"No, my dear child," replied the minister, earnestly and sincerely, "I am for you always, but I cannot help seeing, with your relatives, that at present you are not in the quiet state of mind which would enable you to act wisely for yourself. What earthly motive could I have except your safety, welfare and happiness?"

"Well, then," said the girl, with a swift glance around and as if turning into stone, "do your worst. I will never give my consent, NEVER!"

They looked at each other perplexedly and inquiringly, as if to ask what should be done, when Perkins burst in at the back door of the hallway shouting, "The Yanks!"

The girl sank into a chair and covered her burning face for an instant.

Deep in her soul she divined who her rescuer was, yet in the midst of her hope she felt a certain consciousness of guilt and fear. Mr. Baron, Dr. Williams, and the ladies, half-paralyzed, yet drawn by a dreadful fascination, approached the open windows. Mad Whately now played a better part. He was in full uniform and his horse stood saddled without. He went to it, mounted with almost the swiftness of light, and was just in time to see the Federals sweep around the drive which led to the stables. Scoville had brought his little force by the familiar way of Aun' Jinkey's cabin. Furious at being forestalled, and in obedience to a headlong courage which none disputed, Whately's sabre flashed instantly in the rays of the sinking sun, and his command, "Charge!" rang clear, without a second's hesitancy.

The order echoed in the girl's heart and she felt that she had too much at stake not to witness the conflict. Her own high spirit also prompted the act, and in a moment she was out on the veranda. She saw her cousin spur directly toward the leader of the Federals, in whom she recognized the Union scout. His men came galloping after him, but seemed more inclined to envelop and surround the Confederates than to engage in hand-to-hand conflicts. The latter were experienced veterans and quickly recognized that they were being overpowered and that there was no use in throwing away their lives. Hasty shots were fired, a few sabres clashed, but the demand, "Surrender!" heard on all sides, was so well enforced by the aspect of the situation that compliance soon began. Scoville and Whately, with those immediately about them, maintained the conflict. The two young officers were evenly matched as swordsmen, although the Federal was the larger, stronger, and cooler man. As a result, their duel was quickly terminated by the loss of Whately's sabre, wrenched from his hand. Then the point of his foe's weapon threatened his throat, and the word "Surrender!" was thundered in his ears.

Instead of complying, he fell from his horse as if shot, lay still an instant, and then in the confusion of the melee glided through an adjacent bas.e.m.e.nt door and disappeared. Seeing him fall, his mother uttered a wild shriek and gave way to almost hysterical grief. A backward glance revealed to Whately that the fight was lost, or rather that it had been hopeless from the first, and his one thought now was to escape and lead back a larger force for the purposes of both rescue and vengeance. Gaining a rear door, a bound took him to some shrubbery.

A second later he was behind the kitchen. Aun' Suke saw him, threw up her hands, and uttered an inarticulate cry. A moment or two more and he was in the stable, leading out a horse. All attention was now so concentrated in front of the mansion that he was not observed. He took only time to slip on a bridle, then springing on the animal's bare back, he struck into a field behind a clump of trees. Putting the horse to a run, he was soon beyond successful pursuit. Some of his own men had seen him fall before they were driven back, and believed that he was either wounded or dead; thronging Federals, unaware of the circ.u.mstances, occupied the ground, and only Miss Lou, with an immense burden lifted from her heart, saw his ruse and flight. She wished him well sincerely if he would only leave her to herself. Hastening to Mrs.

Whately she speedily restored the lady with a.s.surances of her son's escape, then with her joined the group on the veranda. Mr. Baron, in the crisis of his affairs and as the head of the family, maintained a dignity and composure which of late had been lacking.

Scoville paid no heed to them until every vestige of resistance had ceased and the Confederates were disarmed and collected as prisoners.

Then sitting on his horse in front of the piazza steps he rapidly gave his orders. His first act was to send a vedette down the avenue toward the main road; then he selected five men, saying, "Take charge of the stables, barn, and out-buildings. Keep them as they are and permit no one to approach without my written orders."

At this moment the field-hands, who had been surging nearer and nearer, sent forward a sort of improvised deputation. They approached bowing, with hats in hand and wistful looks in their eyes. Were these in truth the messengers of freedom of whom they had heard so much? Mr. Baron almost gnashed his teeth as he witnessed this action on the part of his property.

"Mars'r," said the spokesman, "I reck'n you got good news for we uns."

"Yes, good news. You are all free." His words rang out so that they were heard by every one. Shouts and cries of exultation followed like an echo, and ragged hats were tossed high in joy.

The young soldier raised his hand with a warning and repressive gesture. In the silence that ensued he added, "My men here are both free and white, yet they must obey orders. So must you. Go back to your quarters and prove yourselves worthy of freedom by quiet behavior and honesty. If I find any one, black or white, acting the part of a thief while I am in charge it will go hard with him. The general will be here to-morrow and he will advise you further."

His words found immediate acceptance, the negroes returning to the quarters, laughing and chatting joyously, not a few wiping tears of deep emotion from their eyes. The long-expected day had come. They little knew what the future had in store for them, but this was the beginning of a new era and the fulfilment of a great hope.

Scoville now dismounted and gave the reins to Chunk, who stood near with a droll a.s.sumption of soldier-like stiffness and oblivion to all the well-known faces. Mounting the steps, cap in hand, the young officer approached Mr. Baron, who was becoming a little a.s.sured that the orders thus far heard had not included a general application of the torch.

"Mr. Baron, I presume?" said Scoville.

"Yes, sir," was the stiff reply.

"The ladies of your household, I suppose?"

"They are."

Scoville bowed ceremoniously to each, giving Miss Lou no other sign of recognition than a humorous twinkle in his eye. "Ladies," he began, "since it is the fortune of war that I must have command here for a brief time, I hasten to a.s.sure you that we shall give as little annoyance as possible. A few men on both sides were wounded, and I fear that the officer commanding your men was killed. At least I saw him fall. The night is warm and still and I can make a hospital here on the piazza with a little aid from you. Please dismiss all further fears.

Unless we are attacked, the night shall pa.s.s quietly. Each and every one will be treated with respect and courtesy. I must request of you, however, sir," addressing Mr. Baron, "food for myself and men and forage for our horses."

"I suppose you will take them anyway," growled the unwilling host.

"Certainly," replied Scoville, giving him a steady look. "Do you expect us to go hungry? I shall do my duty as a soldier and an officer, as well as deport myself as a gentleman."

There was nothing left but for Mr. Baron to give his directions to Perkins, or for the ladies to make preparations for the improvised hospital. Miss Lou gratefully recognized that Scoville did not intend to compromise her in the least nor reveal his previous acquaintance unless it should become known through no fault of his. She lingered a moment as Dr. Williams stepped forward and asked, "May I be permitted to return to my home?"

"I trust so, certainly, sir, but my duty requires brief explanation on your part and pledges that you will take no hostile action. We are not among friends, you know."

"I can very readily account for myself, sir," was the stiff response.

"I was summoned here to perform a wedding ceremony which your most inopportune arrival prevented. I am a man of peace, not of war, yet I cannot and will not give any pledges."

"It is scarcely fair then, sir, for you to take refuge in your calling, but I will waive that point. I must warn you, however, that we can give protection to those only who do not seek to harm us. You are at liberty. Good-evening, sir."

He had extracted from the clergyman the fact that he had arrived in time, and he again gave the girl in the doorway a mirthful glance, then turned on his heel to attend to his military duties.

Miss Lou hastened to her room with hot cheeks.

CHAPTER XIII

THE UNEXPECTED HAPPENS

Scoville soon learned that his opponent, so far from being killed or even wounded, had escaped. He was not much worried by this fact, believing that before the Confederate officer could reach his friends and bring back an attacking force, the Federal column would be on the ground. Indeed, he was glad that the family upon which he had quartered himself could not a.s.sociate him with so terrible a calamity. The young girl might not wish to marry her cousin, yet be sorry if he were fatally or even seriously wounded, while the rest of the household would be plunged in the deepest distress. Although a resolute soldier, Scoville was a kind-hearted fellow, and disposed to take the most genial views of life that circ.u.mstances permitted. There was a humor about his present situation which he relished exceedingly. He was buoyant over the interrupted wedding, and bent upon disappointing Mr.

Baron in all his grewsome expectations in regard to the Yankees. There should be discipline, order, quiet, and an utter absence of all high-tragedy. He cautioned his men against the slightest tendency to excess, even forbidding the chaffing of the negroes and noisiness. A steer, a pig, and some fowls were killed for supper, and the wood for cooking it was taken from an ample pile in the rear of the house.

Happily, none were seriously wounded, and being veterans were able to do much for one another, while an elderly man in the troop who had some rude surgical experience, supplemented their efforts. Miss Lou speedily joined her aunts in rummaging for old linen for bandages, and the performance of human duty by the elderly ladies dulled the edge of the terrible truth that they were in the hands of the Yankees. True, they had to admit to themselves that the young soldier did not appear like a "ruthless monster" and that his conduct thus far had been almost ceremoniously polite; yet all this might be but a blind on the part of a cunning and unscrupulous foe.

When they came down to the veranda with the materials required, the unscrupulous foe met them, cap in hand, thanked them courteously, and gave his entire attention to the wounded, treating the men of both sides alike. Mrs. Whately, in glad reaction from overwhelming fear concerning her son's safety, offered her services in behalf of the few wounded Confederates and they were readily accepted. Before she was aware of it she found herself conferring with the young officer and the surgical trooper in regard to the best treatment of the injuries.

Having long been mistress of a plantation and accustomed to act promptly when any of her slaves were hurt, she now proved a valuable auxiliary. When the soldiers with whom she sympathized were attended to, her kindness of heart led her on to the Federals, who thanked her as gratefully as if they were not depraved Yankees.

Mr. and Mrs. Baron had retired to the parlor, where they sat in state, awaiting in gloomy fort.i.tude the darker developments of what they deemed the supreme tragedy of their lives. Miss Lou was flitting in and out, getting lint and other articles required by Mrs. Whately. She found it no easy matter to maintain the solemnity of aspect which her guardians thought appropriate to the occasion, but was a.s.sisted in this effort by her genuine pity for the wounded. In her joyous relief at escape from a hated union her heart was light indeed. She had, moreover, no slight sense of humor, and was just bubbling over with mirth at the fact that although the Yankee monsters, from whom it was said she must be rescued at every cost, were masters of the situation, they were engaged in nothing more ruthless than feeding their horses, preparing supper, and caring for the wounded. The most delicious thing of all was that one of the chief prophets of evil, her Aunt Whately, was aiding in the last-named task. Her exultation was increased when she brought the last article required and Scoville said with his genial smile, so well remembered, "I think I can a.s.sure you now, Miss Baron, that all will do very well. We are deeply indebted to this lady (bowing to Mrs. Whately) whose services have been as skilful as humane."

Now one of the things on which Mrs. Whately most prided herself was the generally accepted belief that she was as good as a country physician in an emergency, and she could not refrain from a slight and gracious acknowledgment of Scoville's words. As they drew near to the door she said hesitatingly, "Perhaps, sir, I should make an acknowledgment of deep indebtedness to you. I saw your sabre raised and pointed at my son's throat. Could you not have killed him had you so wished?"

"Ah! this is Mrs. Whately. Believe me, madam, we are not so bloodthirsty as to wish to kill, or even to injure, except so far as the necessities of war require. If you witnessed the brief conflict you must have observed that my effort was to capture rather than to destroy your son's force."

"We all could not help seeing that," cried Miss Lou eagerly.

"I could not help seeing also, Miss Baron, that you exposed yourself to danger like a veteran, and I was anxious indeed lest a stray bullet might harm you. It was well you were not armed or we might have fared worse," and there was so much mirth in his dark eyes that she turned away to hide her conscious blushes.

"Well, sir," resumed Mrs. Whately with emotion, "it is not easy to bless our enemies in this cruel war of aggression, but I must express my grat.i.tude to one who stayed his hand when my son's life was within his power."

"I trust, madam, he may live to care for you in your declining years, and to become a good loyal citizen."

"He is loyal, sir," replied Mrs. Whately with gentle dignity, "to the only authority he recognizes," and with a bow she retired.

Miss Lou lingered a moment and said earnestly, "I thank you. You are very considerate."

His face so lighted up that it was almost boyish in its expression of pleasure as he answered with the pride and confidence of one sure of sympathy, "This is a jolly day for me. I was made an officer this morning, and now, best of all, I am paying a little of my debt to you."

She put her finger on her lips and shook her head, but the smile she gave him over her shoulder was rea.s.suring. He promptly started on a round among his men again to see that the prisoners were properly guarded, and that all was going as he wished.

"Louise," said Mrs. Baron, as the girl appeared in the parlor door, "it would be far more decorous if you would remain here with your uncle and myself."

Miss Lou took a seat in the darkest corner that she might be less open to observation while she calmed the tumult of her feelings. So much had happened that she must catch her breath and think what it all meant.

Mr. Baron began gloomily, "Well, the dreaded hour which I hoped and prayed never to see has come. We are helpless and in the hands of our enemies. Only G.o.d knows what an hour will bring forth--"