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The man who had had to put his own brother under arrest a few short weeks before and then had seen him shot through the heart by this same officer whose name was on the pa.s.s looked at the questioner with an ugly glitter in his eyes. He was beginning to taste already the sweets of revenge. For blood ties bind, no matter how badly they are stretched, and long ago Corporal Dudley had sworn to wipe out his grudge.
"Why, man, can't you see?" he whispered excitedly. "This Johnnie Reb is the man that was hiding in the cabin loft this morning. Morrison lied when he said he wasn't there--you remember, he was the only one who looked--he lied and as soon as he got us out of the way he let him come down and he gave him _this_. Could any man ask for better proof that we had the spy right in our hands and then our commanding officer deliberately let him go?"
At the sound of the man's excited whispering Cary's fears as to the value of Virgie's pa.s.s grew too strong to warrant this agony of watching and waiting, and he stepped forward with a sharp question:
"Well, Corporal, isn't the pa.s.s satisfactory?"
"Oh, perfectly--perfectly," Dudley answered with baleful readiness, but made no move to return it.
Cary put out his hand. "Then I would like to have it again, if you please."
By way of answer Corporal Dudley carefully found an inside pocket and b.u.t.toned the pa.s.s up in his coat. "Oh, no, you don't," he said, with an evil grin. "I've got a better use for that little piece of paper."
"What do you mean?"
"I mean that you're my prisoner, Mister Johnnie Reb," was the brutal answer.
"For what?" asked Cary, while his heart grew sick inside him and his lips twitched. Richmond--and food for Virgie were growing farther away every moment.
"Because you're a Rebel _spy_, that's why," came the biting answer.
"Oh--none of that," as Cary's fists doubled up and he made a forward step at the Corporal. "I guess you know what's good for you, with three guns at your back. If Colonel Morrison wouldn't take you as a spy, _I will!_"
"Here, boys," he said in brusque command to his men, "we'll have to cut the supper and take this man to camp. There'll be a sunrise hanging to-morrow or I miss my guess. Come on, now. Bring him along."
"Wait a minute, Corporal," O'Connell said. "Sure I've something to say to ye," and he led him aside where the others could not bear.
All unconscious of the fatal predicament into which Susan Jemima and she had got them Virgie looked up at her father from where she stood in the shelter of his arm.
"Daddy," she questioned, in a small, puzzled voice, "what are they going to do?"
"S-s-s-h," her father commanded as he patted her head comfortingly.
"Everything will be all right, honey, I'm sure." But he had caught enough of the Corporal's altercation with Trooper O'Connell to make him see that things were very far from being what he wanted Virgie to suppose.
"Ye'd better be careful now," O'Connell said to Dudley. "Ye know well that if the pa.s.s is all right ye'll be getting yerself into a peck o'
trouble."
"It isn't _me_ that'll get in trouble," Dudley answered, with grim triumph. "It's someone else."
"Faith, then, _who_?" was the query.
"_Morrison_," snapped Dudley, with an ominous click of his teeth.
"The Colonel? Why?"
"_Because he helped this spy escape!_ that's why. He killed my brother, shot him. Shot him down like a dog. But now I'm even with him."
He shook the pa.s.s under the trooper's nose and crowed with satisfaction.
"I've been waiting for a chance like this," he chortled, "and now I'm going to make him sweat--sweat blood."
"Don't be a fool, Corporal," the trooper counseled. "What'll ye be after doin'?"
"_Report him, at headquarters_--for helping a spy escape! If I have the man and _this_," and he slapped the paper, "it'll mean his sword and shoulder straps--if not a bullet! Come on!"
He turned away, to scramble over the wall, but Trooper O'Connell caught his arm.
"Hold on! Ye may get in trouble."
In answer Dudley broke away and doggedly kept on towards the stone wall and the road. "Keep off," he snarled. "_I'm_ running this."
"I know ye are," the trooper replied, "but wait," and he pointed to the rear. "Don't forgit that the Colonel's out yonder reconnoiterin'. If he happened to overtake ye on the road--"
Struck with the sudden thought Dudley paused. "Well, that's so," he growled as he saw how easily he could be held for disobeying orders and how quickly all his plans for vengeance could be smashed. He stood still for a moment gnawing his lip, then suddenly struck his doubled fist into the palm of the other hand.
"Then you stay here to guard the prisoner," he said. "I'll cut through the woods--make my report--come back with the horses--and my authority."
"Here, Smith! You and Judson come along with me. Never mind the grub.
We'll get that later."
Turning to O'Connell, "If you hear anyone coming, take those two into the woods. Collins! You'll have to stay on sentry duty till I get back.
If any troops pa.s.s here, get out of sight at once and give Harry warning. Now, boys--come along with me--we'll take it on the trot," and climbing quickly over the wall the man who held two lives in the hollow of his hand ran down the road with the two troopers, finally cutting over into the woods and disappearing from view.
Gary and Virgie stood still by the spring. Out in the road the sentry paced back and forth. Behind them Trooper O'Connell stood on guard, his carbine in his arms across his breast.
Virgie pulled gently at her father's hand.
"Daddy," she whispered, "are they--are they goin' to carry us off to the Yankee camp?"
"I'm afraid so, darling, but I don't know," he answered sadly. "We'll just have to wait. Wait," he repeated, as he sat down on a rock and drew her close to him. Without being seen either by Virgie or O'Connell he picked up a jagged stone the size of his fist and hid it under his knee against the rock. It would be a poor weapon at best, but Cary had grown desperate and if the trooper once turned his back and gave him opportunity poor Harry O'Connell would wake up with a very bad headache and Virgie would be in Richmond.
But Virgie's eyes were on neither the hidden stone nor her father's watchful, relentless face. All that Virgie could see was a knapsack open on the ground and food--real food displayed round about with a prodigality which made her mouth water and her eyes as big as saucers.
"Daddy," she murmured, clutching at his sleeve, "while we are waitin' do you reckon we could take just a _little_ bit of that?"
"No, dear--not now," her father answered, with a touch of impatience. It would be too much, even in those bitter times, to accept a man's food and then break his head for it.
"Well," said Virgie, completely mystified at the restraint, "I don't see why they shouldn't be polite to us. We were just as polite as could be when the Yankees took our corn."
Just then the young Irishman with the carbine turned around and caught the wan look on Virgie's face and the hunger appeal in her big dark eyes. At once a broad smile broke over his freckled countenance and he gestured hospitably with his gun.
"Have somethin' to eat, little wan."
Cary's knee loosened. The jagged stone fell to the ground.
"Thank you, old fellow," he cried, springing to his feet. "I can't show my grat.i.tude to you in any substantial way at present--but G.o.d bless you, just the same." He dropped down on the rock again and hid his face in his hands. Another moment and the kindhearted trooper might have been lying face downwards in the muddy ground around the spring. It had been only touch-and-go, but the man's warm Irish heart had saved him.
"Oh, that's all right, sir," O'Connell answered freely. "Sure an' _I'd_ like to see ye get through, though I ain't the Gineral. At least, not yet," he grinned.