My Lady of the North Part 9

"Hiding out, I suppose?"

"Wal, 'tain't very healthful fer us ter be stayin' et hum much o' ther time, long with that thar Red Lowrie, an' Jim Hale, an' the rest o'

thet cattle 'round yere."

"Guerillas pretty thick now in the mountains?"

He glanced up quickly, his shrewd gray eyes on my face, and Maria turned about as she stood beside the fireplace.

"Wal, I dunno; I heerd as they wus doin' somethin' down by ther brick church, but thar 's no great shakes of 'em jist 'round yere. I reckon as how they knows 'nough ter keep 'way from Jed Bungay--I'd pitch 'em 'far as ever peasant pitched a bar.'"

"You have no fear of them, then?"

"Whut, me?" The little man sat bolt upright, and glared fiercely across the table as though he would resent an insult.

"Stranger, I have fit them ar fellers night an' day in these yere mountings fer nigh onter three year--me an' Mariar.

"'For love-lorn swain in lady's bower Ne'er panted for the appointed hour As I, until before me stand This rebel chieftain and his band.'

"I jist tell ye, Cap, I reckon thar ain't no guerilla a goin' ter poke his nose 'round yere 'less he 's a lookin' fer sudden death; thar's mighty few o' 'em ain't heerd o' Jed Bungay--Whut in thunder 's ther matter with yer gal?"

He stopped suddenly, and stared at her; but before I could turn about in my chair one of the great dogs began to growl savagely, and Maria sprang forward and cuffed the surly brutes into rebellious silence.

"It's hosses," she said harshly. "Likely as not it's Red's gang. Now, Jed Bungay, yere's two lovely females fer ye ter pertect."

As I hastily sprang to my feet I caught a fleeting glimpse out of the partially opened door. Down the steep of the hill road there was slowly moving toward us on foot a small party of perhaps a dozen men, so variously clothed as to make it evident they were irregulars. Just ahead of them, but on horseback, two others were even then turning into the narrow path that led to the house, attracted probably by the smoke which streamed from the chimney-top.

CHAPTER VIII

MRS. BUNGAY DEFENDS HER HEARTHSTONE

A hand pressing hard upon my arm brought back my scattered senses with a rush. It was Mrs. Brennan who stood there, her face whitened by anxiety, her eyes peering anxiously through the opening of the door.

Imminent danger may startle even a trained soldier, but any necessity for action always recalls him to duty, and that one glance at her sufficed to make me myself again.

"Surely those men are not soldiers, Captain Wayne!" she exclaimed.

"They wear uniforms of both armies."

"No doubt they are guerillas," I answered, drawing her back from where she might be seen in their approach. "We must find hiding if possible, for you shall never fall into such hands. Bungay!"

I turned toward where the little giant had been sitting, but he was not to be seen. However, the sound of my voice aroused Maria to a full sense of our danger, nor was she a woman to hesitate in such emergency.

With a single stride she crossed the narrow room, caught the white- faced hero by the collar of his shirt, dragged him ignominiously forth from beneath the table where he had sought refuge, shook him as she would shake a toy dog, until his teeth rattled, and then flung him out of the door leading into the back shed. It was done so expeditiously that I could only gasp.

"Now inter ther hole with ye, Jed Bungay--you an' yer dorgs," she panted furiously. "An' you uns foller him. I reckon I 'm able ter handle thet lot out thar, even if it should be Red Lowrie an' his gang."

Catching firm hold of Mrs. Brennan's hand I sprang down the single step and closed the door tight behind us. Jed had scrambled to his feet, and rubbing himself vigorously with one hand, utilized the other to drag outward a rough cupboard, which appeared to be a portion of the house itself. As it swung open there was revealed behind it a fair-sized opening extending into the face of the hill. It was a most ingenious arrangement, doubtless finding frequent use in those troublesome times.

Its presence partially explained how Jed had thus far escaped the conscription officer. Into this hole we entered one at a time, and when the heavy cupboard had been silently drawn back into place, found ourselves enveloped in such total darkness as to make any movement a dangerous operation. I felt the clasp of my companion's hand tighten, and knew that her whole form was trembling from intense excitement.

"Do not permit the darkness to alarm you," I whispered softly, bending down as I spoke until I could feel her quick breathing against my cheek. "Our visitors are not likely to remain longer than will be necessary to get something to eat. They need never suspect our presence, and all we have to do is to wait patiently until they move on. I only wish I could discover something upon which you might sit down."

"Pray do not think me a coward," she answered, "but I have heard of this man Lowrie in the Federal camps, and I would rather die than fall into his hands."

I had heard of him also, and of his outrageous treatment of women. The memory caused me to clasp my hand warmly over hers, and set my teeth hard.

"It may not prove to be Lowrie at all," I said soberly; "but all these gentry are pretty much alike, I fear. However, I promise that you shall never fall alive into the hands of any of their breed."

Before she could answer me other than by a slight nestling closer in the darkness, Bungay whispered: "This yere hole, Cap, leads down ter the right, an' comes out in a sort o' gully 'bout a hundred feet back.

Thar's light 'nough ter see ter walk by a'ter ye turn ther corner 'bout twenty feet er so. You uns kin go on down thar if ye 'd rather, follerin' ther dorgs, but I reckon as how I'll stay right yere an'

sorter see how ther ol' woman comes out.

"'Where, where was Roderick then?

One blast upon his bugle horn Were worth a thousand men.'

"If you uns like ter see a durned good fight maybe ye better stay tew-- ther ol' woman is pisen if she once gits her dander up."

His voice was expressive of great expectations, and I had reason to believe his faith in Maria would be justified. Before any of us, however, had time to change our positions we heard the fellows come stamping roughly into the cabin. The thin slabs which divided us scarcely m.u.f.fled their loud voices.

"Well, old woman," exclaimed one in voice so gruff as to seem almost a.s.sumed, "pretending to be alone, are you, with all those dishes sitting out on the table; just been eaten off, too. Haven't seen no strange party along the road this morning, have ye?"

"Nary a one," said Maria, and I knew from her voice she was standing close beside the fireplace.

"Are you Mrs. Bungay?"

"I reckon I am, if it's any o' yer business."

"Don't git hifty, old woman, or we 're liable to give you a lesson in politeness before we leave." The leader dropped the b.u.t.t of his gun with a crash on the floor. "Where is the little sneak, anyhow?"

"What do you want of him?"

"Want him to go 'long with us; we 're hunting some parties, and need a guide. They tol' us up the road a bit he knew every inch o' these yere mountings."

There was a pause, as if Maria was endeavoring to decide as to the honesty of the speaker. Her final answer proved the mental survey had not proven satisfactory.

"Wal, I reckon," she said calmly, "as you uns 'll be more likely ter find him down 'bout Connersville."

"Then whut's all these yere dirty dishes doing on the table?"

"Hed sum Yankee officers yere; they just rode on down ther trail as you uns c.u.m up."

"Like h.e.l.l!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed the fellow with complete loss of temper. "See here, old woman, we 're too old birds to be caught with any such chaff.

We'll take a look around the old shebang anyhow, and while we're at it you put something on the table for me and my mates to eat."

The voice and manner were rough, but I was impressed with a certain accent creeping into the man's speech bespeaking education. More, in spite of an apparent effort to make it so, his dialect was not that of those mountains.

Even as he uttered these last words, throwing into them a threat more in the tone than the language, I became aware of a thin ray of light penetrating the seemingly solid wall just in front of me, and bending silently forward could dimly distinguish the elliptical head of Bungay as he applied one eye to a small opening he had industriously made between the logs. Grasping Mrs. Brennan firmly by the hand so that we should not become separated, I crept across the intervening blackness, and reached his side.

"Holy smoke, Cap," the little man muttered in suppressed excitement, as he realized my presence, "it's a goin' ter be b'ilin' hot in thar mighty soon. Mariar's steam is a risin'."