Sustained honor Part 38

CHAPTER XVIII.

THE SAVING SHOT.

Little or nothing could be done by Captain Stevens that night. His men were exhausted, and threw themselves down anywhere and everywhere. The proprietor of the tavern took Fernando, Sukey, Terrence and Lieutenant Willard of the marines to his house, where they were furnished beds and slept soundly.

The morning of September 14, 1814, came. Fernando, at his request, was awakened early, and with Lieutenant Willard went out to examine the fort and artillery. It was scarcely daylight when they mounted the works and gazed off the bay. They could not see as far as Duck and Mud Islands, and sat down upon the gun carriages to await the rising of the sun.

A hundred stalwart Marylanders came from their houses with axes, picks and shovels, ready to resume work on the redoubt.

"Lieutenant Willard." said Fernando, "your judgment is perhaps better than mine. Will you give these men direction in regard to the works?"

Lieutenant Willard mounted the earthworks and walked along the entire line, closely inspecting them and directing the improvement of what was already quite a formidable fortification.

The guns were next examined and changed so as to more completely sweep the bay. While the lieutenant was doing this, Fernando, with three or four fishermen went down to the water with a gla.s.s to take a look for the _Xenophon_. She could be seen still anch.o.r.ed off Mud Island.

"The vind be strong off sh.o.r.e," said Tris Penrose the Cornish fisherman.

"Aw, she cannot sail in the teeth o' it."

"How far is it to Mud Island?" asked Fernando.

"It be about five mile," the fisherman answered.

"I am going out to that headland!" he said pointing to the rocky promontory.

"It be dangerous, Capen; the ship's big guns, they reach to the headland;" but Fernando insisted on being rowed to the headland, and four fishermen, including Tris Penrose, took him to it in a boat. The memories this early morning visit awoke in his breast are indescribable.

Years seemed to have been rolled back, and he was once more with Morgianna, within the pale of hope. Ascending the promontory, he saw the _Xenophon_ lying at anchor not over three or four miles away. Two boats loaded down with marines put off from the ship and rowed to the point of land half a mile away. There they landed, formed, and marched to reinforce Matson on the neck of the peninsula. Three hundred men and two small cannon were now on land.

Fernando went back, convinced that for some hours at least the attack would be delayed. Lieutenant Willard was working with a will to strengthen the redoubt. Bomb-proof apartments were made for the women and children. They were still uncertain of the fate of Baltimore, and knew that the whole coast was threatened by the British fleet.

While sitting at breakfast, Fernando received a note from Captain Lane informing him that a sudden attack of rheumatism prevented him from leaving his bed, and asked him to call at the house if he wished to consult him. Never in his life was Fernando more glad to receive a summons, and never did he so dread answering it.

"I am foolish!" he thought. "She cares nothing for me. She has told me as much, and she cannot have changed her mind. I will go, but as the commandant and not as a supplicant--or lover."

Fernando was in the uniform of a captain of infantry of 1812, the handsomest uniform ever adopted by the American army. His dark blue coat, b.u.t.toned to his chin, his sash, his belt and gilt sword, his chapeau-bras with flowing plume, set off his manly form.

Fernando, as he ascended the path to the house, did not dream that he was heroic or fine-looking.

When he reached the house, he paused a moment on the piazza, just as he had on that evening five years before, to school his rebellious heart.

To his knock a servant answered, and he was hurried up to the room of Captain Lane. At every corner he expected Morgianna; but she did not appear. Perhaps she was with her father; but no, the captain was alone.

"It's too bad, Captain Stevens," the old sea-dog declared. "Here I am with this infernal rheumatism holding me down like an anchor, when we are threatened with a squall."

"Don't trouble yourself, captain," said Fernando. "I fancy there are young men enough to fight our battles."

"But one likes to have a hand in such affairs, you know."

"Certainly, but don't worry yourself. The wind is still off sh.o.r.e, and the bay is so narrow that, unless they get out a warp, they cannot haul in the _Xenophon_."

"I have wondered they did not do that before," said the old sailor. "It could be done."

"Perhaps they have some other plan. They landed a hundred more men this morning."

"They can't be going to make a land attack."

"No, the land forces are to cut off retreat."

"It's that infernal Matson--Lieutenant Matson--curse him! He is the son of my friend; but I say curse him, for all that!" cried the old sea-dog, his face expressing mingled rage and agony.

"Is he in command?" asked Fernando. Before either could speak, a light tread warned Fernando that a third person had entered the room. He started to his feet and, turning about, bowed to Morgianna.

"Captain Stevens, I am proud to welcome you back to Mariana; but I am sorry it could not have been under other circ.u.mstances." She was beautiful--more beautiful than when he left; but there was not expressed by either voice, eye, or flushed cheek any symptom of a more tender regard than friendship. Fernando had so schooled himself, that, as he took her hand, he said in a most commonplace manner:

"I was sent here, Miss Lane. I am a soldier, and wherever duty calls, I go, be it pleasant or unpleasant."

Morgianna was not prepared for this. The cool, off-hand manner seemed to hardly indicate the respect of friendship. Her face grew deathly pale for a moment, and she almost ceased breathing; but she gained her self-control, and, in a tone as commonplace and cool as his own, hoped he was well and that he would not be killed in the coming struggle. The coming struggle with the _Xenophon_ was nothing compared to his present struggle. Fernando still loved Morgianna. Five years had only added to the intensity of his love; but he had once made a simpleton of himself, and he determined not to do so again. Thus two hungry souls, thirsting for each other's love, acted the cold part of casual acquaintances.

Could the veil have been lifted, could the barriers have been broken down, what misery might have been spared! but it is ever thus. Humanity is contradictory and the heart's impulses are held in check.

"Miss Lane, this house cannot be a safe place in the coming struggle,"

said Fernando. "We have prepared bomb-proof shelters for the women and children, and I hope you will accept refuge in one."

She said something about her father.

"He shall be cared for. I hope you will let me send a sergeant with a dozen men to convey you both to a place of safety."

She a.s.sented, and he left. Her face was still white, her chin was quivering, and her eyes were growing moist.

"What's the matter, Morgianna?" asked Captain Lane.

She did not venture an answer, but running to her own room, fell weeping on the couch.

"After five long years, to return so changed--so cold--oh, G.o.d, this punishment is greater than I can bear!" she sobbed.

By the middle of the afternoon, the wind changed slightly, shifting to the northeast, and some activity was evinced on board the _Xenophon_.

Fernando thought longer delay was dangerous. Captain Lane and his daughter, with all other women and children, were conveyed to the bomb-proof houses, which had been constructed for them. He was so busy all that day, that he only caught an occasional glimpse of Morgianna.

When night came, the _Xenophon_ had left her moorings, and Fernando predicted she would be brought in broadside to begin the cannonade at daybreak. He retired to his bed at eleven o'clock and at four Lieutenant Willard came to him and said: "Captain, the wind has shifted due east."

"How is the night?"

"Dark and cloudy."

"Can anything be seen of the _Xenophon_?"

"No."

"Send a dozen men to the promontory and build a fire. The light would show her to us."

A dozen bold fishermen, who knew the coast well, went out in their boats, hugging the rocky sh.o.r.e until the promontory was gained, and gathering up great heaps of driftwood on the edge of the bluff, set it on fire, and pulled back.