"Miss Lou" Part 33

"Ah, Yarry," said the captain, laughing, "you'll have the hardest row of any of us to hoe. We'll have to let you off for some slips."

Then began among the majority a harder fight than that for life--a fight with inveterate habit, an effort to change vernacular, almost as difficult as the learning of a new language. For some time Miss Lou did not know nor understand. Word had been pa.s.sed to other and smaller groups of the Union wounded in other buildings. The pledge was soon known as "A Northern Tribute to a Southern Girl." It was entered into with enthusiasm and kept with a pathetic effort which many will not understand. Yarry positively began to fail under the restraint he imposed upon himself. His wound caused him agony, and profanity would have been his natural expression of even slight annoyance. All day long grisly oaths rose to his lips. Now and then an excruciating twinge would cause a half-uttered expletive to burst forth like a projectile.

A deep groan would follow, as the man became rigid in his struggle for self-control.

"Yarry," cried Captain Hanfield, who had suggested the pledge, "let yourself go, for G.o.d's sake. You have shown more heroism to-day than I in all my life. We will make you an exception and put you on parole to hold in only while Miss Baron is here."

"I be--oh, blank it! This is going to be the death of me, boys. The Rebs gave me h.e.l.l with this wound. But for G.o.d's sake don't let her know. Just let her think I'm civil like the rest of you. Wouldn't she open them blue eyes if she knew a man was dyin', just holdin' in cussin' on her account. Ha, ha, ha! She'd think I was a sort of a Yankee devil, worse than the Injins she expected. Don't let her know.

I'll be quiet enough before long. Then like enough she'd look at me and say, 'Poor fellow! he won't make any more trouble.'"

Whately had a busy day and felt that he had a reputation to regain. He therefore bravely endured much physical pain in his arm and gave very close attention to duty. Captain Maynard, on the contrary, had nothing to do, and his wound was only severe enough to make him restless. The young girl whom he had met at breakfast at once became by far the most interesting subject for thought and object of observation. He was a young fellow of the ordinary romantic type, hasty, susceptible, as ready to fight as to eat, and possessed of the idea that the way to win a girl was to appear her smitten, abject slave. The pa.s.sing hours were ages to him in contrast to his previous activity, and as he watched Miss Lou going about on her errands of mercy he quickly pa.s.sed from one stage to another of admiration and idealization. Remembering the look that Whately had given him in the morning, he maintained a distant att.i.tude at first, thinking his brother officer had claims which he must respect. As he wandered uneasily around, however, he discovered virtually how matters stood, and learned of the attempt which Whately had made to marry his cousin, nolens volens. This fact piqued his interest deeply and satisfied him that the way was clear for a suit on his part were he so inclined. Fair rivalry would give only additional zest, and he promptly yielded to his inclination to become at least much better acquainted with the girl. At dinner he and Whately vied in their gallantries, but she was too sad and weary to pay much attention to either of them.

Mrs. Whately compelled her to lie down for a time during the heat of the afternoon, but thoughts of the suffering all about her banished power to rest. She went down and found the old colonel lying with closed eyes, feebly trying to keep away the pestering flies.

Remembering the bunch of peac.o.c.k feathers with which Zany, in old monotonous days, had waved when waiting on the table, she obtained it from the dining-room, and sitting down noiselessly by the officer, gave him a respite from his tormentors. In his drowsiness he did not open his eyes, but pa.s.sed into quiet sleep. The girl maintained her watch, putting her finger to her lips and making signals for silence to all who came near. Other Confederate officers observed her wistfully; Mad Whately, coming in, looked at her frowningly. His desire and purpose toward his cousin had been that of entire self-appropriation and now she was becoming the cynosure of many eyes. Among them he saw those of Captain Maynard, who was already an object of hate. Little recked the enamored captain of this fact. To his ardent fancy the girl was rapidly becoming ideal in goodness and beauty. With the ready egotism of the young he was inclined to believe that fate had brought about the events which had revealed to him the woman he should marry. A bombsh.e.l.l bursting among them all would not have created a greater sensation than the knowledge that the girl's thoughts were following a Yankee, one whom she herself, by daring stratagem, had released from captivity.

A twinge of pain awakened the colonel and he looked up, dazed and uncomprehending. Miss Lou bent over him and said gently, "Go to sleep again. It's all right."

"Oh, I remember now. You are Miss Baron."

"Yes, but don't try to talk; just sleep now that you can."

He smiled and yielded.

A few moments later Maynard came forward and said, "Miss Baron, your arm must be tired. Let me take your place."

Now she rewarded him by a smile. "I will be glad if you can," she replied softly, "not that I am very tired, but there are so many others."

As she moved away, she saw Surgeon Ackley beckoning to her. "Miss Baron," he said, "I am going to put one of my patients especially in your and your aunt's charge. Young as he is, he is a hero and an unusual character. I have had him moved to a tent, for he is in a very critical condition. Indeed, his chances for life are few and he knows it. I am acquainted with his family--one of the best in the South."

He led the way to a small tent beneath the shade of a wide-branched oak. A stretcher had been extemporized into a camp bed and on it lay a youth not older apparently than the girl herself. His face had the blood-drained look which many will remember, yet was still fine in its strong, boyish lines. The down on his upper lip was scarcely more deeply defined than his straight eyebrows. A negro attendant sat near fanning him, and Miss Lou first thought that he was asleep. As she approached with the surgeon he opened his eyes with the dazed expression so common when the brain is enfeebled from loss of blood. At first they seemed almost opaque and dead in their blackness, but, as if a light were approaching from within, they grew bright and laughing.

His smile showed his white, even teeth slightly, and her look of deep commiseration pa.s.sed into one of wonder as she saw his face growing positively radiant with what seemed to her a strange kind of happiness, as he glanced back and forth from her to the surgeon. Feebly he raised his finger to his lips as if to say, "I can't speak."

"That's right, Waldo; don't try to talk yet. This is Miss Baron. She will be one of your nurses and will feed you with the best of soup.

We'll bring you round yet."

He shook his head and smiled more genially, then tried to extend his hand to the girl, looking his welcome and acceptance of her ministry.

So joyous was his expression that she could not help smiling in return, but it was the questioning, doubtful smile of one who did not understand.

"When she comes," resumed Ackley, "take what she gives you, but don't talk until I give permission. That will do now. You must take everything except quiet in small quant.i.ties at first."

His lips formed the words "All right," and smilingly he watched them depart.

"I suppose he is not exactly in his right mind," said Miss Lou as she and the surgeon returned to the house.

"Many would think so, I reckon," replied Ackley laconically. "He believes in a heaven and that he's going there. That's the only queer thing I ever discovered in Waldo. He's worth a lot of trouble, Miss Baron."

"It would be right strange if I did not do my best for him, sir."

"I thought you'd feel so. I want very strong beef soup made for a few such special cases, who can take but little at a time. I would like him to have a few teaspoonfuls every two hours. I am going to trust to you and Mrs. Whately chiefly to look after him in this respect. We can do little more than help nature in his case."

Poor Aun' Suke was getting weary again, but she had a heart which Miss Lou speedily touched in behalf of her patient, and a special saucepan was soon bubbling over the fire.

The soup for the evening meal being ready, she began again her task of feeding the helpless soldiers, visiting, among others, Phillips, who lay in a half-stupor on the great barn-floor. As she stepped in among the Federal wounded, she was again impressed by the prevailing quiet and by the friendly glances turned toward her on every side. The Union surgeon in charge lifted his hat politely, while such of the men as were able took off theirs and remained uncovered. The homage, although quiet, was so marked that she was again embarra.s.sed, and with downcast eyes went direct to Phillips, gently roused him and gave him his supper. While she was doing this the men around her were either silent or spoke in low tones. The thought grew in her mind, "How these Northern soldiers have been misrepresented to me! Even when I am approaching and before they are aware I am near, I hear no rough talk as I do among our men. The world is so different from uncle's idea of it! Whether these men are right or wrong, I will never listen patiently again when they are spoken of as the sc.u.m of the earth."

As she rose and saw the respectful att.i.tude toward her, faltered, "I--I--wish to thank you for your--your kindness to me."

At these words there was a general smile even on the wannest and most pain-pinched face, for they struck the men as very droll.

"We were under the impression that the kindness was chiefly on your side," said Captain Hanfield. "Still we are glad you find us a civil lot of Indians."

"Please remember," she answered earnestly, "that was not my thought, but one impressed upon me by those who did not know. Only within a very short time have I ever seen Northern people or soldiers, and they treat me with nothing but courtesy."

"Perhaps you are to blame for that," said the captain pleasantly.

"I can't help feeling glad that our good opinion is becoming mutual,"

she replied, smiling. "Won't you please put on your hats and let me come and go as a matter of course? I don't like to be sort of received every time I come. I just want to help those I can help, to get well."

"You have only to express your wishes, Miss Baron," was the hearty reply.

"Thank you. Is there anything more that I can do for you? Is there any one who specially needs--"

As she was glancing round her eyes fell upon Yarry. His face was so drawn and haggard with pain that, from an impulse of pity, she went directly to him and said gently, "I fear, sir, you are suffering very much."

"I be--oh, hang--there, there, miss, I'll stand it a little longer. I could stand h.e.l.l-fire for your sake. I didn't mean to say that. Guess I better keep still."

His face, now seen attentively, revealed more to her in tuition than his words. She stooped by his side and said piteously, "Oh, you are suffering--I FEEL that you are suffering terribly. I must do something to relieve you."

"Oh, now, miss," he replied, forcing a ghastly sort of smile, "I'm all right, I be--well, I am. Bless your kind heart! Don't worry about me.

I'll smoke my pipe and go to sleep pretty soon. You look tired yourself, little one. I will feel better if you won't worry about me, I be--well, I will. I'm just like the other fellows, you know."

"I reckon you are a brave, good-hearted man, to think of others when I KNOW you are suffering so much. I am having very strong soup made for one of our men, and I'll bring you some by and by," and with a lingering, troubled look into his rugged face, she departed.

His eyes followed her until she disappeared.

"Yarry, you are rewarded," Captain Hanfield remarked.

"--my reward. Fellers, she's just wearin' herself out for us. I don't want no reward for anything I can do for her. Well, I'm goin' to shut up now. The only thing I can do for her is to hold my tongue till it can't wag. I told her I'd smoke my pipe and go to sleep. I be--well, I will. Light it for me, Tom. When she comes, like enough I'll be asleep, a sort of DEAD sleep, yer know. Just let her think I'm dozin' after my pipe. Don't let her try to wake me and worry about me."

"All shall be as you wish, Yarry," said Captain Hanfield. "I tell you, men, few women ever received such a tribute as Yarry is paying this Southern girl. For one, I'm proud of him."

CHAPTER XXVI

A BACKGROUND OF EGOTISM

When Miss Lou returned to the house supper was ready and she sat down weary, saddened and preoccupied by the scenes she had witnessed.