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diff --git a/2635-h/2635-h.htm b/2635-h/2635-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6b5e959 --- /dev/null +++ b/2635-h/2635-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,6848 @@ +<?xml version="1.0" encoding="utf-8"?> + +<!DOCTYPE html + PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd" > + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" lang="en"> + <head> + <title> + Clarence, by Bret Harte + </title> + <style type="text/css" xml:space="preserve"> + + body { margin:5%; background:#faebd0; text-align:justify} + P { text-indent: 1em; margin-top: .25em; margin-bottom: .25em; } + H1,H2,H3,H4,H5,H6 { text-align: center; margin-left: 15%; margin-right: 15%; } + hr { width: 50%; text-align: center;} + .foot { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; text-indent: -3em; font-size: 90%; } + blockquote {font-size: 97%; font-style: italic; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;} + .mynote {background-color: #DDE; color: #000; padding: .5em; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 95%;} + .toc { margin-left: 10%; margin-bottom: .75em;} + .toc2 { margin-left: 20%;} + div.fig { display:block; margin:0 auto; text-align:center; } + div.middle { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; } + .figleft {float: left; margin-left: 0%; margin-right: 1%;} + .figright {float: right; margin-right: 0%; margin-left: 1%;} + .pagenum {display:inline; font-size: 70%; font-style:normal; + margin: 0; padding: 0; position: absolute; right: 1%; + text-align: right;} + pre { font-style: italic; font-size: 90%; margin-left: 10%;} + +</style> + </head> + <body> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Clarence, by Bret Harte + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Clarence + +Author: Bret Harte + +Release Date: May 21, 2006 [EBook #2635] +Last Updated: March 4, 2018 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK CLARENCE *** + + + + +Produced by Donald Lainson; David Widger + + + + + +</pre> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <h1> + CLARENCE + </h1> + <h2> + By Bret Harte + </h2> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <blockquote> + <p class="toc"> + <big><b>CONTENTS</b></big> + </p> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_PART1"> <big><b>PART I.</b></big> </a> + </p> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0001"> CHAPTER I. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0002"> CHAPTER II. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0003"> CHAPTER III. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0004"> CHAPTER IV. </a> + </p> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_PART3"> <big><b>PART II.</b></big> </a> + </p> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0005"> CHAPTER I. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0006"> CHAPTER II. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0007"> CHAPTER III. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0008"> CHAPTER IV. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0009"> CHAPTER V. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0010"> CHAPTER VI. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0011"> CHAPTER VII. </a> + </p> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_PART3"> <big><b>PART III.</b></big> </a> + </p> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0012"> CHAPTER I. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0013"> CHAPTER II. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0014"> CHAPTER III. </a> + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2H_PART1" id="link2H_PART1"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <h2> + PART I. + </h2> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0001" id="link2HCH0001"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER I. + </h2> + <p> + As Clarence Brant, President of the Robles Land Company, and husband of + the rich widow of John Peyton, of the Robles Ranche, mingled with the + outgoing audience of the Cosmopolitan Theatre, at San Francisco, he + elicited the usual smiling nods and recognition due to his good looks and + good fortune. But as he hurriedly slipped through the still lingering + winter's rain into the smart coupe that was awaiting him, and gave the + order “Home,” the word struck him with a peculiarly ironical significance. + His home was a handsome one, and lacked nothing in appointment and + comfort, but he had gone to the theatre to evade its hollow loneliness. + Nor was it because his wife was not there, for he had a miserable + consciousness that her temporary absence had nothing to do with his + homelessness. The distraction of the theatre over, that dull, vague, but + aching sense of loneliness which was daily growing upon him returned with + greater vigor. + </p> + <p> + He leaned back in the coupe and gloomily reflected. + </p> + <p> + He had been married scarcely a year, yet even in the illusions of the + honeymoon the woman, older than himself, and the widow of his old patron, + had half unconsciously reasserted herself, and slipped back into the + domination of her old position. It was at first pleasant enough,—this + half-maternal protectorate which is apt to mingle even with the affections + of younger women,—and Clarence, in his easy, half-feminine intuition + of the sex, yielded, as the strong are apt to yield, through the very + consciousness of their own superiority. But this is a quality the weaker + are not apt to recognize, and the woman who has once tasted equal power + with her husband not only does not easily relegate it, but even makes its + continuance a test of the affections. The usual triumphant feminine + conclusion, “Then you no longer love me,” had in Clarence's brief + experience gone even further and reached its inscrutable climax, “Then I + no longer love you,” although shown only in a momentary hardening of the + eye and voice. And added to this was his sudden, but confused remembrance + that he had seen that eye and heard that voice in marital altercation + during Judge Peyton's life, and that he himself, her boy partisan, had + sympathized with her. Yet, strange to say, this had given him more pain + than her occasional other reversions to the past—to her old + suspicious of him when he was a youthful protege of her husband and a + presumed suitor of her adopted daughter Susy. High natures are more apt to + forgive wrong done to themselves than any abstract injustice. And her + capricious tyranny over her dependents and servants, or an unreasoning + enmity to a neighbor or friend, outraged his finer sense more than her own + misconception of himself. Nor did he dream that this was a thing most + women seldom understand, or, understanding, ever forgive. + </p> + <p> + The coupe rattled over the stones or swirled through the muddy pools of + the main thoroughfares. Newspaper and telegraphic offices were still + brilliantly lit, and crowds were gathered among the bulletin boards. He + knew that news had arrived from Washington that evening of the first + active outbreaks of secession, and that the city was breathless with + excitement. Had he not just come from the theatre, where certain + insignificant allusions in the play had been suddenly caught up and + cheered or hissed by hitherto unknown partisans, to the dumb astonishment + of a majority of the audience comfortably settled to money-getting and + their own affairs alone? Had he not applauded, albeit half-scornfully, the + pretty actress—his old playmate Susy—who had audaciously and + all incongruously waved the American flag in their faces? Yes! he had + known it; had lived for the last few weeks in an atmosphere electrically + surcharged with it—and yet it had chiefly affected him in his + personal homelessness. For his wife was a Southerner, a born slaveholder, + and a secessionist, whose noted prejudices to the North had even outrun + her late husband's politics. At first the piquancy and recklessness of her + opinionative speech amused him as part of her characteristic flavor, or as + a lingering youthfulness which the maturer intellect always pardons. He + had never taken her politics seriously—why should he? With her head + on his shoulder he had listened to her extravagant diatribes against the + North. He had forgiven her outrageous indictment of his caste and his + associates for the sake of the imperious but handsome lips that uttered + it. But when he was compelled to listen to her words echoed and repeated + by her friends and family; when he found that with the clannishness of her + race she had drawn closer to them in this controversy,—that she + depended upon them for her intelligence and information rather than upon + him,—he had awakened to the reality of his situation. He had borne + the allusions of her brother, whose old scorn for his dependent childhood + had been embittered by his sister's marriage and was now scarcely + concealed. Yet, while he had never altered his own political faith and + social creed in this antagonistic atmosphere, he had often wondered, with + his old conscientiousness and characteristic self-abnegation, whether his + own political convictions were not merely a revulsion from his domestic + tyranny and alien surroundings. + </p> + <p> + In the midst of this gloomy retrospect the coupe stopped with a jerk + before his own house. The door was quickly opened by a servant, who + appeared to be awaiting him. + </p> + <p> + “Some one to see you in the library, sir,” said the man, “and”—He + hesitated and looked towards the coupe. + </p> + <p> + “Well?” said Clarence impatiently. + </p> + <p> + “He said, sir, as how you were not to send away the carriage.” + </p> + <p> + “Indeed, and who is it?” demanded Clarence sharply. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Hooker. He said I was to say Jim Hooker.” + </p> + <p> + The momentary annoyance in Clarence's face changed to a look of reflective + curiosity. + </p> + <p> + “He said he knew you were at the theatre, and he would wait until you came + home,” continued the man, dubiously watching his master's face. “He don't + know you've come in, sir, and—and I can easily get rid of him.” + </p> + <p> + “No matter now. I'll see him, and,” added Clarence, with a faint smile, + “let the carriage wait.” + </p> + <p> + Yet, as he turned towards the library he was by no means certain that an + interview with the old associate of his boyhood under Judge Peyton's + guardianship would divert his mind. Yet he let no trace of his doubts nor + of his past gloom show in his face as he entered the room. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Hooker was apparently examining the elegant furniture and luxurious + accommodation with his usual resentful enviousness. Clarence had got a + “soft thing.” That it was more or less the result of his “artfulness,” and + that he was unduly “puffed up” by it, was, in Hooker's characteristic + reasoning, equally clear. As his host smilingly advanced with outstretched + hand, Mr. Hooker's efforts to assume a proper abstraction of manner and + contemptuous indifference to Clarence's surroundings which should wound + his vanity ended in his lolling back at full length in the chair with his + eyes on the ceiling. But, remembering suddenly that he was really the + bearer of a message to Clarence, it struck him that his supine position + was, from a theatrical view-point, infelicitous. In his experiences of the + stage he had never delivered a message in that way. He rose awkwardly to + his feet. + </p> + <p> + “It was so good of you to wait,” said Clarence courteously. + </p> + <p> + “Saw you in the theatre,” said Hooker brusquely. “Third row in parquet. + Susy said it was you, and had suthin' to say to you. Suthin' you ought to + know,” he continued, with a slight return of his old mystery of manner + which Clarence so well remembered. “You saw HER—she fetched the + house with that flag business, eh? She knows which way the cat is going to + jump, you bet. I tell you, for all the blowing of these secessionists, the + Union's goin' to pay! Yes, sir!” He stopped, glanced round the handsome + room, and added darkly, “Mebbee better than this.” + </p> + <p> + With the memory of Hooker's characteristic fondness for mystery still in + his mind, Clarence overlooked the innuendo, and said smilingly,— + </p> + <p> + “Why didn't you bring Mrs. Hooker here? I should have been honored with + her company.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Hooker frowned slightly at this seeming levity. + </p> + <p> + “Never goes out after a performance. Nervous exhaustion. Left her at our + rooms in Market Street. We can drive there in ten minutes. That's why I + asked to have the carriage wait.” + </p> + <p> + Clarence hesitated. Without caring in the least to renew the acquaintance + of his old playmate and sweetheart, a meeting that night in some vague way + suggested to him a providential diversion. Nor was he deceived by any + gravity in the message. With his remembrance of Susy's theatrical + tendencies, he was quite prepared for any capricious futile extravagance. + </p> + <p> + “You are sure we will not disturb her?” he said politely. + </p> + <p> + “No.” + </p> + <p> + Clarence led the way to the carriage. If Mr. Hooker expected him during + the journey to try to divine the purport of Susy's message he was + disappointed. His companion did not allude to it. Possibly looking upon it + as a combined theatrical performance, Clarence preferred to wait for Susy + as the better actor. The carriage rolled rapidly through the now deserted + streets, and at last, under the directions of Mr. Hooker, who was leaning + half out of the window, it drew up at a middle-class restaurant, above + whose still lit and steaming windows were some ostentatiously public + apartments, accessible from a side entrance. As they ascended the + staircase together, it became evident that Mr. Hooker was scarcely more at + his ease in the character of host than he had been as guest. He stared + gloomily at a descending visitor, grunted audibly at a waiter in the + passage, and stopped before a door, where a recently deposited tray + displayed the half-eaten carcase of a fowl, an empty champagne bottle, two + half-filled glasses, and a faded bouquet. The whole passage was redolent + with a singular blending of damp cooking, stale cigarette smoke, and + patchouli. + </p> + <p> + Putting the tray aside with his foot, Mr. Hooker opened the door + hesitatingly and peered into the room, muttered a few indistinct words, + which were followed by a rapid rustling of skirts, and then, with his hand + still on the door-knob, turning to Clarence, who had discreetly halted on + the threshold, flung the door open theatrically and bade him enter. + </p> + <p> + “She is somewhere in the suite,” he added, with a large wave of the hand + towards a door that was still oscillating. “Be here in a minit.” + </p> + <p> + Clarence took in the apartment with a quiet glance. Its furniture had the + frayed and discolored splendors of a public parlor which had been + privately used and maltreated; there were stains in the large medallioned + carpet; the gilded veneer had been chipped from a heavy centre table, + showing the rough, white deal beneath, which gave it the appearance of a + stage “property;” the walls, paneled with gilt-framed mirrors, reflected + every domestic detail or private relaxation with shameless publicity. A + damp waterproof, shawl, and open newspaper were lying across the once + brilliant sofa; a powder-puff, a plate of fruit, and a play-book were on + the centre table, and on the marble-topped sideboard was Mr. Hooker's + second-best hat, with a soiled collar, evidently but lately exchanged for + the one he had on, peeping over its brim. The whole apartment seemed to + mingle the furtive disclosures of the dressing-room with the open + ostentations of the stage, with even a slight suggestion of the auditorium + in a few scattered programmes on the floor and chairs. + </p> + <p> + The inner door opened again with a slight theatrical start, and Susy, in + an elaborate dressing-gown, moved languidly into the room. She apparently + had not had time to change her underskirt, for there was the dust of the + stage on its delicate lace edging, as she threw herself into an armchair + and crossed her pretty slippered feet before her. Her face was pale, its + pallor incautiously increased by powder; and as Clarence looked at its + still youthful, charming outline, he was not perhaps sorry that the + exquisite pink and white skin beneath, which he had once kissed, was + hidden from that awakened recollection. Yet there was little trace of the + girlish Susy in the pretty, but prematurely jaded, actress before him, and + he felt momentarily relieved. It was her youth and freshness appealing to + his own youth and imagination that he had loved—not HER. Yet as she + greeted him with a slight exaggeration of glance, voice, and manner, he + remembered that even as a girl she was an actress. + </p> + <p> + Nothing of this, however, was in his voice and manner as he gently thanked + her for the opportunity of meeting her again. And he was frank, for the + diversion he had expected he had found; he even was conscious of thinking + more kindly of his wife who had supplanted her. + </p> + <p> + “I told Jim he must fetch you if he had to carry you,” she said, striking + the palm of her hand with her fan, and glancing at her husband. “I reckon + he guessed WHY, though I didn't tell him—I don't tell Jim + EVERYTHING.” + </p> + <p> + Here Jim rose, and looking at his watch, “guessed he'd run over to the + Lick House and get some cigars.” If he was acting upon some hint from his + wife, his simulation was so badly done that Clarence felt his first sense + of uneasiness. But as Hooker closed the door awkwardly and + unostentatiously behind him, Clarence smilingly said he had waited to hear + the message from her own lips. + </p> + <p> + “Jim only knows what he's heard outside: the talk of men, you know,—and + he hears a good deal of that—more, perhaps, than YOU do. It was that + which put me up to finding out the truth. And I didn't rest till I did. + I'm not to be fooled, Clarence,—you don't mind my calling you + Clarence now we're both married and done for,—and I'm not the kind + to be fooled by anybody from the Cow counties—and that's the Robles + Ranche. I'm a Southern woman myself from Missouri, but I'm for the Union + first, last, and all the time, and I call myself a match for any lazy, + dawdling, lash-swinging slaveholder and slaveholderess—whether + they're mixed blood, Heaven only knows, or what—or their friends or + relations, or the dirty half-Spanish grandees and their mixed half-nigger + peons who truckle to them. You bet!” + </p> + <p> + His blood had stirred quickly at the mention of the Robles Ranche, but the + rest of Susy's speech was too much in the vein of her old extravagance to + touch him seriously. He found himself only considering how strange it was + that the old petulance and impulsiveness of her girlhood were actually + bringing back with them her pink cheeks and brilliant eyes. + </p> + <p> + “You surely didn't ask Jim to bring me here,” he said smilingly, “to tell + me that Mrs. Peyton”—he corrected himself hastily as a malicious + sparkle came into Susy's blue eyes—“that my wife was a Southern + woman, and probably sympathized with her class? Well, I don't know that I + should blame her for that any more than she should blame me for being a + Northern man and a Unionist.” + </p> + <p> + “And she doesn't blame you?” asked Susy sneeringly. + </p> + <p> + The color came slightly to Clarence's cheek, but before he could reply the + actress added,— + </p> + <p> + “No, she prefers to use you!” + </p> + <p> + “I don't think I understand you,” said Clarence, rising coldly. + </p> + <p> + “No, you don't understand HER!” retorted Susy sharply. “Look here, + Clarence Brant, you're right; I didn't ask you here to tell you—what + you and everybody knows—that your wife is a Southerner. I didn't ask + you here to tell you what everybody suspects—that she turns you + round her little finger. But I did ask you here to tell you what nobody, + not even you, suspects—but what I know!—and that is that she's + a TRAITOR—and more, a SPY!—and that I've only got to say the + word, or send that man Jim to say the word, to have her dragged out of her + Copperhead den at Robles Ranche and shut up in Fort Alcatraz this very + night!” + </p> + <p> + Still with the pink glowing in her rounding cheek, and eyes snapping like + splintered sapphires, she rose to her feet, with her pretty shoulders + lifted, her small hands and white teeth both tightly clenched, and took a + step towards him. Even in her attitude there was a reminiscence of her + willful childhood, although still blended with the provincial actress whom + he had seen on the stage only an hour ago. Thoroughly alarmed at her + threat, in his efforts to conceal his feelings he was not above a weak + retaliation. Stepping back, he affected to regard her with a critical + admiration that was only half simulated, and said with a smile,— + </p> + <p> + “Very well done—but you have forgotten the flag.” + </p> + <p> + She did not flinch. Rather accepting the sarcasm as a tribute to her art, + she went on with increasing exaggeration: “No, it is YOU who have + forgotten the flag—forgotten your country, your people, your manhood—everything + for that high-toned, double-dyed old spy and traitress! For while you are + standing here, your wife is gathering under her roof at Robles a gang of + spies and traitors like herself—secession leaders and their bloated, + drunken 'chivalry'! Yes, you may smile your superior smile, but I tell + you, Clarence Brant, that with all your smartness and book learning you + know no more of what goes on around you than a child. But others do! This + conspiracy is known to the government, the Federal officers have been + warned; General Sumner has been sent out here—and his first act was + to change the command at Fort Alcatraz, and send your wife's Southern + friend—Captain Pinckney—to the right about! Yes—everything + is known but ONE thing, and that is WHERE and HOW this precious crew meet! + That I alone know, and that I've told you!” + </p> + <p> + “And I suppose,” said Clarence, with an unchanged smile, “that this + valuable information came from your husband—my old friend, Jim + Hooker?” + </p> + <p> + “No,” she answered sharply, “it comes from Cencho—one of your own + peons—who is more true to you and the old Rancho than YOU have ever + been. He saw what was going on, and came to me, to warn you!” + </p> + <p> + “But why not to me directly?” asked Clarence, with affected incredulity. + </p> + <p> + “Ask him!” she said viciously. “Perhaps he didn't want to warn the master + against the mistress. Perhaps he thought WE are still friends. Perhaps”—she + hesitated with a lower voice and a forced smile—“perhaps he used to + see us together in the old times.” + </p> + <p> + “Very likely,” said Clarence quietly. “And for the sake of those old + times, Susy,” he went on, with a singular gentleness that was quite + distinct from his paling face and set eyes, “I am going to forget all that + you have just said of me and mine, in all the old willfulness and + impatience that I see you still keep—with all your old prettiness.” + He took his hat from the table and gravely held out his hand. + </p> + <p> + She was frightened for a moment with his impassive abstraction. In the old + days she had known it—had believed it was his dogged “obstinacy”—but + she knew the hopelessness of opposing it. Yet with feminine persistency + she again threw herself against it, as against a wall. + </p> + <p> + “You don't believe me! Well, go and see for yourself. They are at Robles + NOW. If you catch the early morning stage at Santa Clara you will come + upon them before they disperse. Dare you try it?” + </p> + <p> + “Whatever I do,” he returned smilingly, “I shall always be grateful to you + for giving me this opportunity of seeing you again AS YOU WERE. Make my + excuses to your husband. Good-night.” + </p> + <p> + “Clarence!” + </p> + <p> + But he had already closed the door behind him. His face did not relax its + expression nor change as he looked again at the tray with its broken + viands before the door, the worn, stained hall carpet, or the waiter who + shuffled past him. He was apparently as critically conscious of them and + of the close odors of the hall, and the atmosphere of listless decay and + faded extravagance around him, as before the interview. But if the woman + he had just parted from had watched him she would have supposed he still + utterly disbelieved her story. Yet he was conscious that all that he saw + was a part of his degradation, for he had believed every word she had + uttered. Through all her extravagance, envy, and revengefulness he saw the + central truth—that he had been deceived—not by his wife, but + by himself! He had suspected all this before. This was what had been + really troubling him—this was what he had put aside, rather than his + faith, not in her, but in his ideal. He remembered letters that had passed + between her and Captain Pinckney—letters that she had openly sent to + notorious Southern leaders; her nervous anxiety to remain at the Rancho; + the innuendoes and significant glances of friends which he had put aside—as + he had this woman's message! Susy had told him nothing new of his wife—but + the truth of HIMSELF! And the revelation came from people who he was + conscious were the inferiors of himself and his wife. To an independent, + proud, and self-made man it was the culminating stroke. + </p> + <p> + In the same abstracted voice he told the coachman to drive home. The + return seemed interminable—though he never shifted his position. Yet + when he drew up at his own door and looked at his watch he found he had + been absent only half an hour. Only half an hour! As he entered the house + he turned with the same abstraction towards a mirror in the hall, as if he + expected to see some outward and visible change in himself in that time. + Dismissing his servants to bed, he went into his dressing-room, completely + changed his attire, put on a pair of long riding-boots, and throwing a + serape over his shoulders, paused a moment, took a pair of small + “Derringer” pistols from a box, put them in his pockets, and then slipped + cautiously down the staircase. A lack of confidence in his own domestics + had invaded him for the first time. The lights were out. He silently + opened the door and was in the street. + </p> + <p> + He walked hastily a few squares to a livery stable whose proprietor he + knew. His first inquiry was for one “Redskin,” a particular horse; the + second for its proprietor. Happily both were in. The proprietor asked no + question of a customer of Clarence's condition. The horse, half Spanish, + powerful and irascible, was quickly saddled. As Clarence mounted, the man + in an impulse of sociability said,— + </p> + <p> + “Saw you at the theatre to-night, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah,” returned Clarence, quietly gathering up the reins. + </p> + <p> + “Rather a smart trick of that woman with the flag,” he went on + tentatively. Then, with a possible doubt of his customer's politics, he + added with a forced smile, “I reckon it's all party fuss, though; there + ain't any real danger.” + </p> + <p> + But fast as Clarence might ride the words lingered in his ears. He saw + through the man's hesitation; he, too, had probably heard that Clarence + Brant weakly sympathized with his wife's sentiments, and dared not speak + fully. And he understood the cowardly suggestion that there was “no real + danger.” It had been Clarence's one fallacy. He had believed the public + excitement was only a temporary outbreak of partisan feeling, soon to + subside. Even now he was conscious that he was less doubtful of the + integrity of the Union than of his own household. It was not the devotion + of the patriot, but the indignation of an outraged husband, that was + spurring him on. + </p> + <p> + He knew that if he reached Woodville by five o'clock he could get ferried + across the bay at the Embarcadero, and catch the down coach to Fair + Plains, whence he could ride to the Rancho. As the coach did not connect + directly with San Francisco, the chance of his surprising them was + greater. Once clear of the city outskirts, he bullied Redskin into + irascible speed, and plunged into the rainy darkness of the highroad. The + way was familiar. For a while he was content to feel the buffeting, caused + by his rapid pace, of wind and rain against his depressed head and + shoulders in a sheer brutal sense of opposition and power, or to relieve + his pent-up excitement by dashing through overflowed gullies in the road + or across the quaggy, sodden edges of meadowland, until he had controlled + Redskin's rebellious extravagance into a long steady stride. Then he + raised his head and straightened himself on the saddle, to think. But to + no purpose. He had no plan; everything would depend upon the situation; + the thought of forestalling any action of the conspirators, by warning or + calling in the aid of the authorities, for an instant crossed his mind, + but was as instantly dismissed. He had but an instinct—to see with + his own eyes what his reason told him was true. Day was breaking through + drifting scud and pewter-colored clouds as he reached Woodville ferry, + checkered with splashes of the soil and the spume of his horse, from whose + neck and flanks the sweat rolled like lather. Yet he was not conscious how + intent had been his purpose until he felt a sudden instinctive shock on + seeing that the ferryboat was gone. For an instant his wonderful + self-possession abandoned him; he could only gaze vacantly at the + leaden-colored bay, without a thought or expedient. But in another moment + he saw that the boat was returning from the distance. Had he lost his only + chance? He glanced hurriedly at his watch; he had come more quickly than + he imagined; there would still be time. He beckoned impatiently to the + ferryman; the boat—a ship's pinnace, with two men in it—crept + in with exasperating slowness. At last the two rowers suddenly leaped + ashore. + </p> + <p> + “Ye might have come before, with the other passenger. We don't reckon to + run lightnin' trips on this ferry.” + </p> + <p> + But Clarence was himself again. “Twenty dollars for two more oars in that + boat,” he said quietly, “and fifty if you get me over in time to catch the + down stage.” + </p> + <p> + The man glanced at Clarence's eyes. “Run up and rouse out Jake and Sam,” + he said to the other boatman; then more leisurely, gazing at his + customer's travel-stained equipment, he said, “There must have been a heap + o' passengers got left by last night's boat. You're the second man that + took this route in a hurry.” + </p> + <p> + At any other time the coincidence might have struck Clarence. But he only + answered curtly, “Unless we are under way in ten minutes you will find I + am NOT the second man, and that our bargain's off.” + </p> + <p> + But here two men emerged from the shanty beside the ferryhouse, and + tumbled sleepily into the boat. Clarence seized an extra pair of sculls + that were standing against the shed, and threw them into the stern. “I + don't mind taking a hand myself for exercise,” he said quietly. + </p> + <p> + The ferryman glanced again at Clarence's travel-worn figure and determined + eyes with mingled approval and surprise. He lingered a moment with his + oars lifted, looking at his passenger. “It ain't no business o' mine, + young man,” he said deliberately, “but I reckon you understand me when I + say that I've just taken another man over there.” + </p> + <p> + “I do,” said Clarence impatiently. + </p> + <p> + “And you still want to go?” + </p> + <p> + “Certainly,” replied Clarence, with a cold stare, taking up his oars. + </p> + <p> + The man shrugged his shoulders, bent himself for the stroke, and the boat + sprung forward. The others rowed strongly and rapidly, the tough ashen + blades springing like steel from the water, the heavy boat seeming to leap + in successive bounds until they were fairly beyond the curving inshore + current and clearing the placid, misty surface of the bay. Clarence did + not speak, but bent abstractedly over his oar; the ferryman and his crew + rowed in equal panting silence; a few startled ducks whirred before them, + but dropped again to rest. In half an hour they were at the Embarcadero. + The time was fairly up. Clarence's eyes were eagerly bent for the first + appearance of the stage-coach around the little promontory; the ferryman + was as eagerly scanning the bare, empty street of the still sleeping + settlement. + </p> + <p> + “I don't see him anywhere,” said the ferryman with a glance, half of + astonishment and half of curiosity, at his solitary passenger. + </p> + <p> + “See whom?” asked Clarence carelessly, as he handed the man his promised + fee. + </p> + <p> + “The other man I ferried over to catch the stage. He must have gone on + without waiting. You're in luck, young fellow!” + </p> + <p> + “I don't understand you,” said Clarence impatiently. “What has your + previous passenger to do with me?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I reckon you know best. He's the kind of man, gin'rally speaking, + that other men, in a pow'ful hurry, don't care to meet—and, az a + rule, don't FOLLER arter. It's gin'rally the other way.” + </p> + <p> + “What do you mean?” inquired Clarence sternly. “Of whom are you speaking?” + </p> + <p> + “The Chief of Police of San Francisco!” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0002" id="link2HCH0002"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER II. + </h2> + <p> + The laugh that instinctively broke from Clarence's lips was so sincere and + unaffected that the man was disconcerted, and at last joined in it, a + little shamefacedly. The grotesque blunder of being taken as a fugitive + from justice relieved Clarence's mind from its acute tension,—he was + momentarily diverted,—and it was not until the boatman had departed, + and he was again alone, that it seemed to have any collateral + significance. Then an uneasy recollection of Susy's threat that she had + the power to put his wife in Fort Alcatraz came across him. Could she have + already warned the municipal authorities and this man? But he quickly + remembered that any action from such a warning could only have been taken + by the United States Marshal, and not by a civic official, and dismissed + the idea. + </p> + <p> + Nevertheless, when the stage with its half-spent lamps still burning dimly + against the morning light swept round the curve and rolled heavily up to + the rude shanty which served as coach-office, he became watchful. A single + yawning individual in its doorway received a few letters and parcels, but + Clarence was evidently the ONLY waiting passenger. Any hope that he might + have entertained that his mysterious predecessor would emerge from some + seclusion at that moment was disappointed. As he entered the coach he made + a rapid survey of his fellow-travelers, but satisfied himself that the + stranger was not among them. They were mainly small traders or farmers, a + miner or two, and apparently a Spanish-American of better degree and + personality. Possibly the circumstance that men of this class usually + preferred to travel on horseback and were rarely seen in public + conveyances attracted his attention, and their eyes met more than once in + mutual curiosity. Presently Clarence addressed a remark to the stranger in + Spanish; he replied fluently and courteously, but at the next + stopping-place he asked a question of the expressman in an unmistakable + Missouri accent. Clarence's curiosity was satisfied; he was evidently one + of those early American settlers who had been so long domiciled in + Southern California as to adopt the speech as well as the habiliments of + the Spaniard. + </p> + <p> + The conversation fell upon the political news of the previous night, or + rather seemed to be lazily continued from some previous, more excited + discussion, in which one of the contestants—a red-bearded miner—had + subsided into an occasional growl of surly dissent. It struck Clarence + that the Missourian had been an amused auditor and even, judging from a + twinkle in his eye, a mischievous instigator of the controversy. He was + not surprised, therefore, when the man turned to him with a certain + courtesy and said,— + </p> + <p> + “And what, sir, is the political feeling in YOUR district?” + </p> + <p> + But Clarence was in no mood to be drawn out, and replied, almost curtly, + that as he had come only from San Francisco, they were probably as well + informed on that subject as himself. A quick and searching glance from the + stranger's eye made him regret his answer, but in the silence that ensued + the red-bearded miner, evidently still rankling at heart, saw his + opportunity. Slapping his huge hands on his knees, and leaning far forward + until he seemed to plunge his flaming beard, like a firebrand, into the + controversy, he said grimly,— + </p> + <p> + “Well, I kin tell you, gen'l'men, THIS. It ain't goin' to be no matter + wot's the POLITICAL FEELING here or thar—it ain't goin' to be no + matter wot's the State's rights and wot's Fed'ral rights—it ain't + goin' to be no question whether the gov'ment's got the right to relieve + its own soldiers that those Secesh is besieging in Fort Sumter or whether + they haven't—but the first gun that's fired at the flag blows the + chains off every d—n nigger south of Mason and Dixon's line! You + hear me! I'm shoutin'! And whether you call yourselves 'Secesh' or 'Union' + or 'Copperhead' or 'Peace men,' you've got to face it!” + </p> + <p> + There was an angry start in one or two of the seats; one man caught at the + swinging side-strap and half rose, a husky voice began, “It's a d——d”—and + then all as suddenly subsided. Every eye was turned to an insignificant + figure in the back seat. It was a woman, holding a child on her lap, and + gazing out of the window with her sex's profound unconcern in politics. + Clarence understood the rude chivalry of the road well enough to + comprehend that this unconscious but omnipotent figure had more than once + that day controlled the passions of the disputants. They dropped back + weakly to their seats, and their mutterings rolled off in the rattle of + the wheels. Clarence glanced at the Missourian; he was regarding the + red-bearded miner with a singular curiosity. + </p> + <p> + The rain had ceased, but the afternoon shadows were deepening when they at + last reached Fair Plains, where Clarence expected to take horse to the + Rancho. He was astonished, however, to learn that all the horses in the + stable were engaged, but remembering that some of his own stock were in + pasturage with a tenant at Fair Plains, and that he should probably have a + better selection, he turned his steps thither. Passing out of the + stable-yard he recognized the Missourian's voice in whispered conversation + with the proprietor, but the two men withdrew into the shadow as he + approached. An ill-defined uneasiness came over him; he knew the + proprietor, who also seemed to know the Missourian, and this evident + avoidance of him was significant. Perhaps his reputation as a doubtful + Unionist had preceded him, but this would not account for their conduct in + a district so strongly Southern in sympathy as Fair Plains. More impressed + by the occurrence than he cared to admit, when at last, after some delay, + he had secured his horse, and was once more in the saddle, he kept a sharp + lookout for his quondam companion. But here another circumstance added to + his suspicions: there was a main road leading to Santa Inez, the next + town, and the Rancho, and this Clarence had purposely taken in order to + watch the Missourian; but there was also a cutoff directly to the Rancho, + known only to the habitues of the Rancho. After a few moments' rapid + riding on a mustang much superior to any in the hotel stables, he was + satisfied that the stranger must have taken the cut-off. Putting spurs to + his horse he trusted still to precede him to the Rancho—if that were + his destination. + </p> + <p> + As he dashed along the familiar road, by a strange perversity of fancy, + instead of thinking of his purpose, he found himself recalling the first + time he had ridden that way in the flush of his youth and hopefulness. The + girl-sweetheart he was then going to rejoin was now the wife of another; + the woman who had been her guardian was now his own wife. He had accepted + without a pang the young girl's dereliction, but it was through her + revelation that he was now about to confront the dereliction of his own + wife. And this was the reward of his youthful trust and loyalty! A bitter + laugh broke from his lips. It was part of his still youthful self-delusion + that he believed himself wiser and stronger for it. + </p> + <p> + It was quite dark when he reached the upper field or first terrace of the + Rancho. He could see the white walls of the casa rising dimly out of the + green sea of early wild grasses, like a phantom island. It was here that + the cut-off joined the main road—now the only one that led to the + casa. He was satisfied that no one could have preceded him from Fair + Plains; but it was true that he must take precautions against his own + discovery. Dismounting near a clump of willows, he unsaddled and unbridled + his horse, and with a cut of the riata over its haunches sent it flying + across the field in the direction of a band of feeding mustangs, which it + presently joined. Then, keeping well in the shadow of a belt of + shrub-oaks, he skirted the long lesser terraces of the casa, intending to + approach the house by way of the old garden and corral. A drizzling rain, + occasionally driven by the wind into long, misty, curtain-like waves, + obscured the prospect and favored his design. He reached the low adobe + wall of the corral in safety; looking over he could detect, in spite of + the darkness, that a number of the horses were of alien brands, and even + recognized one or two from the Santa Inez district. The vague outline of + buggies and carryalls filled the long shed beside the stables. There WAS + company at the casa—so far Susy was right! + </p> + <p> + Nevertheless, lingering still by the wall of the old garden for the + deepening of night, his nervous feverishness was again invaded and + benumbed by sullen memories. There was the opening left by the old grille + in the wall, behind which Mrs. Peyton stood on the morning when he thought + he was leaving the ranch forever; where he had first clasped her in his + arms, and stayed. A turn of the head, a moment's indecision, a single + glance of a languorous eye, had brought this culmination. And now he stood + again before that ruined grille, his house and lands, even his NAME, + misused by a mad, scheming enthusiast, and himself a creeping spy of his + own dishonor! He turned with a bitter smile again to the garden. A few + dark red Castilian roses still leaned forward and swayed in the wind with + dripping leaves. It was here that the first morning of his arrival he had + kissed Susy; the perfume and color of her pink skin came back to him with + a sudden shock as he stood there; he caught at a flower, drew it towards + him, inhaled its odor in a long breath that left him faint and leaning + against the wall. Then again he smiled, but this time more wickedly—in + what he believed his cynicism had sprung up the first instinct of revenge! + </p> + <p> + It was now dark enough for him to venture across the carriage road and + make his way to the rear of the house. His first characteristic instinct + had been to enter openly at his own front gate, but the terrible + temptation to overhear and watch the conspiracy unobserved—that + fascination common to deceived humanity to witness its own shame—had + now grown upon him. He knew that a word or gesture of explanation, + apology, appeal, or even terror from his wife would check his rage and + weaken his purpose. His perfect knowledge of the house and the security of + its inmates would enable him from some obscure landing or gallery to + participate in any secret conclave they might hold in the patio—the + only place suitable for so numerous a rendezvous. The absence of light in + the few external windows pointed to this central gathering. And he had + already conceived his plan of entrance. + </p> + <p> + Gaining the rear wall of the casa he began cautiously to skirt its brambly + base until he had reached a long, oven-like window half obliterated by a + monstrous passion vine. It was the window of what had once been Mrs. + Peyton's boudoir; the window by which he had once forced an entrance to + the house when it was in the hands of squatters, the window from which + Susy had signaled her Spanish lover, the window whose grating had broken + the neck of Judge Peyton's presumed assassin. But these recollections no + longer delayed him; the moment for action had arrived. He knew that since + the tragedy the boudoir had been dismantled and shunned; the servants + believed it to be haunted by the assassin's ghost. With the aid of the + passion vine the ingress was easy; the interior window was open; the + rustle of dead leaves on the bare floor as he entered, and the whir of a + frightened bird by his ear, told the story of its desolation and the + source of the strange noises that had been heard there. The door leading + to the corridor was lightly bolted, merely to keep it from rattling in the + wind. Slipping the bolt with the blade of his pocket-knife he peered into + the dark passage. The light streaming under a door to the left, and the + sound of voices, convinced him that his conjecture was right, and the + meeting was gathered on the broad balconies around the patio. He knew that + a narrow gallery, faced with Venetian blinds to exclude the sun, looked + down upon them. He managed to gain it without discovery; luckily the + blinds were still down; between their slats, himself invisible, he could + hear and see everything that occurred. + </p> + <p> + Yet even at this supreme moment the first thing that struck him was the + almost ludicrous contrast between the appearance of the meeting and its + tremendous object. Whether he was influenced by any previous boyish + conception of a clouded and gloomy conspiracy he did not know, but he was + for an instant almost disconcerted by the apparent levity and festivity of + the conclave. Decanters and glasses stood on small tables before them; + nearly all were drinking and smoking. They comprised fifteen or twenty + men, some of whose faces were familiar to him elsewhere as Southern + politicians; a few, he was shocked to see, were well-known Northern + Democrats. Occupying a characteristically central position was the famous + Colonel Starbottle, of Virginia. Jaunty and youthful-looking in his + mask-like, beardless face, expansive and dignified in his middle-aged port + and carriage, he alone retained some of the importance—albeit + slightly theatrical and affected—of the occasion. Clarence in his + first hurried glance had not observed his wife, and for a moment had felt + relieved; but as Colonel Starbottle arose at that moment, and with a + studiously chivalrous and courtly manner turned to his right, he saw that + she was sitting at the further end of the balcony, and that a man whom he + recognized as Captain Pinckney was standing beside her. The blood quickly + tightened around his heart, but left him cold and observant. + </p> + <p> + “It was seldom, indeed,” remarked Colonel Starbottle, placing his fat + fingers in the frill of his shirt front, “that a movement like this was + graced with the actual presence of a lofty, inspiring, yet delicate spirit—a + Boadicea—indeed, he might say a Joan of Arc—in the person of + their charming hostess, Mrs. Brant. Not only were they favored by her + social and hospitable ministration, but by her active and enthusiastic + cooperation in the glorious work they had in hand. It was through her + correspondence and earnest advocacy that they were to be favored to-night + with the aid and counsel of one of the most distinguished and powerful men + in the Southern district of California, Judge Beeswinger, of Los Angeles. + He had not the honor of that gentleman's personal acquaintance; he + believed he was not far wrong in saying that this was also the misfortune + of every gentleman present; but the name itself was a tower of strength. + He would go further, and say that Mrs. Brant herself was personally + unacquainted with him, but it was through the fervor, poetry, grace, and + genius of her correspondence with that gentleman that they were to have + the honor of his presence that very evening. It was understood that + advices had been received of his departure, and that he might be expected + at Robles at any moment.” + </p> + <p> + “But what proof have we of Judge Beeswinger's soundness?” said a lazy + Southern voice at the conclusion of Colonel Starbottle's periods. “Nobody + here seems to know him by sight: is it not risky to admit a man to our + meeting whom we are unable to identify?” + </p> + <p> + “I reckon nobody but a fool or some prying mudsill of a Yankee would trust + his skin here,” returned another; “and if he did we'd know what to do with + him.” + </p> + <p> + But Clarence's attention was riveted on his wife, and the significant + speech passed him as unheeded as had the colonel's rhetoric. She was + looking very handsome and slightly flushed, with a proud light in her eyes + that he had never seen before. Absorbed in the discussion, she seemed to + be paying little attention to Captain Pinckney as she rose suddenly to her + feet. + </p> + <p> + “Judge Beeswinger will be attended here by Mr. MacNiel, of the Fair Plains + Hotel, who will vouch for him and introduce him,” she said in a clear + voice, which rang with an imperiousness that Clarence well remembered. + “The judge was to arrive by the coach from Martinez to Fair Plains, and is + due now.” + </p> + <p> + “Is there no GENTLEMAN to introduce him? Must we take him on the word of a + common trader—by Jove! a whiskey-seller?” continued the previous + voice sneeringly. + </p> + <p> + “On the word of a lady, Mr. Brooks,” said Captain Pinckney, with a slight + gesture towards Mrs. Brant—“who answers for both.” + </p> + <p> + Clarence had started slightly at his wife's voice and the information it + conveyed. His fellow-passenger, and the confidant of MacNiel, was the man + they were expecting! If they had recognized him, Clarence, would they not + warn the company of his proximity? He held his breath as the sound of + voices came from the outer gate of the courtyard. Mrs. Brant rose; at the + same moment the gate swung open, and a man entered. It WAS the Missourian. + </p> + <p> + He turned with old-fashioned courtesy to the single woman standing on the + balcony. + </p> + <p> + “My fair correspondent, I believe! I am Judge Beeswinger. Your agent, + MacNiel, passed me through your guards at the gate, but I did not deem it + advisable to bring him into this assembly of gentlemen without your + further consideration. I trust I was right.” + </p> + <p> + The quiet dignity and self-possession, the quaint, old-fashioned colonial + precision of speech, modified by a soft Virginian intonation, and, above + all, some singular individuality of the man himself, produced a profound + sensation, and seemed to suddenly give the gathering an impressiveness it + had lacked before. For an instant Clarence forgot himself and his personal + wrongs in the shock of indignation he felt at this potent addition to the + ranks of his enemies. He saw his wife's eyes sparkle with pride over her + acquisition, and noticed that Pinckney cast a disturbed glance at the + newcomer. + </p> + <p> + The stranger ascended the few steps to the balcony and took Mrs. Brant's + hand with profound courtesy. “Introduce me to my colleagues—distinctly + and separately. It behooves a man at such a moment to know to whom he + entrusts his life and honor, and the life and honor of his cause.” + </p> + <p> + It was evidently no mere formal courtesy to the stranger. As he stepped + forward along the balcony, and under Mrs. Brant's graceful guidance was + introduced to each of the members, he not only listened with scrupulous + care and attention to the name and profession of each man, but bent upon + him a clear, searching glance that seemed to photograph him in his memory. + With two exceptions. He passed Colonel Starbottle's expanding shirt frill + with a bow of elaborate precision, and said, “Colonel Starbottle's fame + requires neither introduction nor explanation.” He stopped before Captain + Pinckney and paused. + </p> + <p> + “An officer of the United States army, I believe, sir?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + “Educated at West Point, I think, by the government, to whom you have + taken the oath of allegiance?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + “Very good, sir,” said the stranger, turning away. + </p> + <p> + “You have forgotten one other fact, sir,” said Pinckney, with a slightly + supercilious air. + </p> + <p> + “Indeed! What is it?” + </p> + <p> + “I am, first of all, a native of the State of South Carolina!” + </p> + <p> + A murmur of applause and approval ran round the balcony. Captain Pinckney + smiled and exchanged glances with Mrs. Brant, but the stranger quietly + returned to the central table beside Colonel Starbottle. “I am not only an + unexpected delegate to this august assembly, gentlemen,” he began gravely, + “but I am the bearer of perhaps equally unexpected news. By my position in + the Southern district I am in possession of dispatches received only this + morning by pony express. Fort Sumter has been besieged. The United States + flag, carrying relief to the beleaguered garrison, has been fired upon by + the State of South Carolina.” + </p> + <p> + A burst of almost hysteric applause and enthusiasm broke from the + assembly, and made the dim, vault-like passages and corridors of the casa + ring. Cheer after cheer went up to the veiled gallery and the misty sky + beyond. Men mounted on the tables and waved their hands frantically, and + in the midst of this bewildering turbulence of sound and motion Clarence + saw his wife mounted on a chair, with burning cheeks and flashing eyes, + waving her handkerchief like an inspired priestess. Only the stranger, + still standing beside Colonel Starbottle, remained unmoved and impassive. + Then, with an imperative gesture, he demanded a sudden silence. + </p> + <p> + “Convincing and unanimous as this demonstration is, gentlemen,” he began + quietly, “it is my duty, nevertheless, to ask you if you have seriously + considered the meaning of the news I have brought. It is my duty to tell + you that it means civil war. It means the clash of arms between two + sections of a mighty country; it means the disruption of friends, the + breaking of family ties, the separation of fathers and sons, of brothers + and sisters—even, perhaps, to the disseverment of husband and wife!” + </p> + <p> + “It means the sovereignty of the South—and the breaking of a + covenant with lowborn traders and abolitionists,” said Captain Pinckney. + </p> + <p> + “If there are any gentlemen present,” continued the stranger, without + heeding the interruption, “who have pledged this State to the support of + the South in this emergency, or to the establishment of a Pacific republic + in aid and sympathy with it, whose names are on this paper”—he + lifted a sheet of paper lying before Colonel Starbottle—“but who now + feel that the gravity of the news demands a more serious consideration of + the purpose, they are at liberty to withdraw from the meeting, giving + their honor, as Southern gentlemen, to keep the secret intact.” + </p> + <p> + “Not if I know it,” interrupted a stalwart Kentuckian, as he rose to his + feet and strode down the steps to the patio. “For,” he added, placing his + back against the gateway, “I'll shoot the first coward that backs out + now.” + </p> + <p> + A roar of laughter and approval followed, but was silenced again by the + quiet, unimpassioned voice of the stranger. “If, on the other hand,” he + went on calmly, “you all feel that this news is the fitting culmination + and consecration of the hopes, wishes, and plans of this meeting, you will + assert it again, over your own signatures, to Colonel Starbottle at this + table.” + </p> + <p> + When the Kentuckian had risen, Clarence had started from his concealment; + when he now saw the eager figures pressing forward to the table he + hesitated no longer. Slipping along the passage, he reached the staircase + which led to the corridor in the rear of the balcony. Descending this + rapidly, he not only came upon the backs of the excited crowd around the + table, but even elbowed one of the conspirators aside without being + noticed. His wife, who had risen from her chair at the end of the balcony, + was already moving towards the table. With a quick movement he seized her + wrist, and threw her back in the chair again. A cry broke from her lips as + she recognized him, but still holding her wrist, he stepped quickly + between her and the astonished crowd. There was a moment of silence, then + the cry of “Spy!” and “Seize him!” rose quickly, but above all the voice + and figure of the Missourian was heard commanding them to stand back. + Turning to Clarence, he said quietly,— + </p> + <p> + “I should know your face, sir. Who are you?” + </p> + <p> + “The husband of this woman and the master of this house,” said Clarence as + quietly, but in a voice he hardly recognized as his own. + </p> + <p> + “Stand aside from her, then—unless you are hoping that her danger + may protect YOU!” said the Kentuckian, significantly drawing his revolver. + </p> + <p> + But Mrs. Brant sprang suddenly to her feet beside Clarence. + </p> + <p> + “We are neither of us cowards, Mr. Brooks—though he speaks the truth—and—more + shame to me”—she added, with a look of savage scorn at Clarence—“IS + MY HUSBAND!” + </p> + <p> + “What is your purpose in coming here?” continued Judge Beeswinger, with + his eyes fixed on Clarence. + </p> + <p> + “I have given you all the information,” said Clarence quietly, “that is + necessary to make you, as a gentleman, leave this house at once—and + that is my purpose. It is all the information you will get from me as long + as you and your friends insult my roof with your uninvited presence. What + I may have to say to you and each of you hereafter—what I may choose + to demand of you, according to your own code of honor,”—he fixed his + eyes on Captain Pinckney's,—“is another question, and one not + usually discussed before a lady.” + </p> + <p> + “Pardon me. A moment—a single moment.” + </p> + <p> + It was the voice of Colonel Starbottle; it was the frilled shirt front, + the lightly buttoned blue coat with its expanding lapels, like bursting + petals, and the smiling mask of that gentleman rising above the table and + bowing to Clarence Brant and his wife with infinite courtesy. “The—er—humiliating + situation in which we find ourselves, gentlemen,—the reluctant + witnesses of—er—what we trust is only a temporary disagreement + between our charming hostess and the—er—gentleman whom she + recognized under the highest title to our consideration,—is + distressing to us all, and would seem to amply justify that gentleman's + claims to a personal satisfaction, which I know we would all delight to + give. But that situation rests upon the supposition that our gathering + here was of a purely social or festive nature! It may be,” continued the + colonel with a blandly reflective air, “that the spectacle of these + decanters and glasses, and the nectar furnished us by our Hebe-like + hostess” (he lifted a glass of whiskey and water to his lips while he + bowed to Mrs. Brant gracefully), “has led the gentleman to such a + deduction. But when I suggest to him that our meeting was of a business, + or private nature, it strikes me that the question of intrusion may be + fairly divided between him and ourselves. We may be even justified, in + view of that privacy, in asking him if his—er—entrance to this + house was—er—coincident with his appearance among us.” + </p> + <p> + “With my front door in possession of strangers,” said Clarence, more in + reply to a sudden contemptuous glance from his wife than Starbottle's + insinuation, “I entered the house through the window.” + </p> + <p> + “Of my boudoir, where another intruder once broke his neck,” interrupted + his wife with a mocking laugh. + </p> + <p> + “Where I once helped this lady to regain possession of her house when it + was held by another party of illegal trespassers, who, however, were + content to call themselves 'jumpers,' and did not claim the privacy of + gentlemen.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you mean to imply, sir,” began Colonel Starbottle haughtily, “that”— + </p> + <p> + “I mean to imply, sir,” said Clarence with quiet scorn, “that I have + neither the wish to know nor the slightest concern in any purpose that + brought you here, and that when you quit the house you take your secrets + and your privacy with you intact, without let or hindrance from me.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you mean to say, Mr. Brant,” said Judge Beeswinger, suppressing the + angry interruption of his fellows with a dominant wave of his hand, as he + fixed his eyes on Clarence keenly, “that you have no sympathy with your + wife's political sentiments?” + </p> + <p> + “I have already given you the information necessary to make you quit this + house, and that is all you have a right to know,” returned Clarence with + folded arms. + </p> + <p> + “But I can answer for him,” said Mrs. Brant, rising, with a quivering + voice and curling lip. “There IS no sympathy between us. We are as far + apart as the poles. We have nothing in common but this house and his + name.” + </p> + <p> + “But you are husband and wife, bound together by a sacred compact.” + </p> + <p> + “A compact!” echoed Mrs. Brant, with a bitter laugh. “Yes, the compact + that binds South Carolina to the nigger-worshipping Massachusetts. The + compact that links together white and black, the gentleman and the trader, + the planter and the poor white—the compact of those UNITED States. + Bah! THAT has been broken, and so can this.” + </p> + <p> + Clarence's face paled. But before he could speak there was a rapid + clattering at the gate and a dismounted vaquero entered excitedly. Turning + to Mrs. Brant he said hurriedly, “Mother of God! the casa is surrounded by + a rabble of mounted men, and there is one among them even now who demands + admittance in the name of the Law.” + </p> + <p> + “This is your work,” said Brooks, facing Clarence furiously. “You have + brought them with you, but, by God, they shall not save you!” He would + have clutched Clarence, but the powerful arm of Judge Beeswinger + intervened. Nevertheless, he still struggled to reach Clarence, appealing + to the others: “Are you fools to stand there and let him triumph! Don't + you see the cowardly Yankee trick he's played upon us?” + </p> + <p> + “He has not,” said Mrs. Brant haughtily. “I have no reason to love him or + his friends; but I know he does not lie.” + </p> + <p> + “Gentlemen!—gentlemen!” implored Colonel Starbottle with beaming and + unctuous persuasion, “may I—er—remark—that all this is + far from the question? Are we to be alarmed because an unknown rabble, no + matter whence they come, demand entrance here in the name of the Law? I am + not aware of any law of the State of California that we are infringing. By + all means admit them.” + </p> + <p> + The gate was thrown open. A single thick-set man, apparently unarmed and + dressed like an ordinary traveler, followed by half a dozen other equally + unpretentious-looking men, entered. The leader turned to the balcony. + </p> + <p> + “I am the Chief of Police of San Francisco. I have warrants for the arrest + of Colonel Culpepper Starbottle, Joshua Brooks, Captain Pinckney, Clarence + Brant and Alice his wife, and others charged with inciting to riot and + unlawful practice calculated to disturb the peace of the State of + California and its relations with the Federal government,” said the + leader, in a dry official voice. + </p> + <p> + Clarence started. In spite of its monotonous utterance it was the voice of + the red-bearded controversialist of the stage-coach. But where were his + characteristic beard and hair? Involuntarily Clarence glanced at Judge + Beeswinger; that gentleman was quietly regarding the stranger with an + impassive face that betrayed no recognition whatever. + </p> + <p> + “But the city of San Francisco has no jurisdiction here,” said Colonel + Starbottle, turning a bland smile towards his fellow-members. “I am—er—sorry + to inform you that you are simply trespassing, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “I am here also as deputy sheriff,” returned the stranger coolly. “We were + unable to locate the precise place of this meeting, although we knew of + its existence. I was sworn in this morning at Santa Inez by the judge of + this district, and these gentlemen with me are my posse.” + </p> + <p> + There was a quick movement of resistance by the members, which was, + however, again waived blandly aside by Colonel Starbottle. Leaning forward + in a slightly forensic attitude, with his fingers on the table and a shirt + frill that seemed to have become of itself erectile, he said, with pained + but polite precision, “I grieve to have to state, sir, that even that + position is utterly untenable here. I am a lawyer myself, as my friend + here, Judge Beeswinger—eh? I beg your pardon!” + </p> + <p> + The officer of the law had momentarily started, with his eyes fixed on + Judge Beeswinger, who, however, seemed to be quietly writing at the table. + </p> + <p> + “As Judge Beeswinger,” continued Colonel Starbottle, “will probably tell + you and as a jurist himself, he will also probably agree with me when I + also inform you that, as the United States government is an aggrieved + party, it is a matter for the Federal courts to prosecute, and that the + only officer we can recognize is the United States Marshal for the + district. When I add that the marshal, Colonel Crackenthorpe, is one of my + oldest friends, and an active sympathizer with the South in the present + struggle, you will understand that any action from him in this matter is + exceedingly improbable.” + </p> + <p> + The general murmur of laughter, relief, and approval was broken by the + quiet voice of Judge Beeswinger. + </p> + <p> + “Let me see your warrant, Mr. Deputy Sheriff.” + </p> + <p> + The officer approached him with a slightly perplexed and constrained air, + and exhibited the paper. Judge Beeswinger handed it back to him. “Colonel + Starbottle is quite right in his contention,” he said quietly; “the only + officer that this assembly can recognize is the United States Marshal or + his legal deputy. But Colonel Starbottle is wrong in his supposition that + Colonel Crackenthorpe still retains the functions of that office. He was + removed by the President of the United States, and his successor was + appointed and sworn in by the Federal judge early this morning.” He + paused, and folding up the paper on which he had been writing, placed it + in the hands of the deputy. “And this,” he continued in the same even + voice, “constitutes you his deputy, and will enable you to carry out your + duty in coming here.” + </p> + <p> + “What the devil does this mean, sir? Who are you?” gasped Colonel + Starbottle, recoiling suddenly from the man at his side. + </p> + <p> + “I am the new United States Marshal for the Southern District of + California.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0003" id="link2HCH0003"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER III. + </h2> + <p> + Unsuspected and astounding as the revelation was to Clarence, its strange + reception by the conspirators seemed to him as astounding. He had started + forward, half expecting that the complacent and self-confessed spy would + be immolated by his infuriated dupes. But to his surprise the shock seemed + to have changed their natures, and given them the dignity they had lacked. + The excitability, irritation, and recklessness which had previously + characterized them had disappeared. The deputy and his posse, who had + advanced to the assistance of their revealed chief, met with no + resistance. They had evidently, as if with one accord, drawn away from + Judge Beeswinger, leaving a cleared space around him, and regarded their + captors with sullen contemptuous silence. It was only broken by Colonel + Starbottle:— + </p> + <p> + “Your duty commands you, sir, to use all possible diligence in bringing us + before the Federal judge of this district—unless your master in + Washington has violated the Constitution so far as to remove him, too!” + </p> + <p> + “I understand you perfectly,” returned Judge Beeswinger, with unchanged + composure; “and as you know that Judge Wilson unfortunately cannot be + removed except through a regular course of impeachment, I suppose you may + still count upon his Southern sympathies to befriend you. With that I have + nothing to do; my duty is complete when my deputy has brought you before + him and I have stated the circumstances of the arrest.” + </p> + <p> + “I congratulate you, sir,” said Captain Pinckney, with an ironical salute, + “on your prompt reward for your treachery to the South, and your equally + prompt adoption of the peculiar tactics of your friends in the way in + which you have entered this house.” + </p> + <p> + “I am sorry I cannot congratulate YOU, sir,” returned Judge Beeswinger + gravely, “on breaking your oath to the government which has educated and + supported you and given you the epaulettes you disgrace. Nor shall I + discuss 'treachery' with the man who has not only violated the trust of + his country, but even the integrity of his friend's household. It is for + that reason that I withhold the action of this warrant in so far as it + affects the persons of the master and mistress of this home. I am + satisfied that Mr. Brant has been as ignorant of what has been done here + as I am that his wife has been only the foolish dupe of a double traitor!” + </p> + <p> + “Silence!” + </p> + <p> + The words broke simultaneously from the lips of Clarence and Captain + Pinckney. They stood staring at each other—the one pale, the other + crimson—as Mrs. Brant, apparently oblivious of the significance of + their united adjuration, turned to Judge Beeswinger in the fury of her + still stifled rage and mortification. + </p> + <p> + “Keep your mercy for your fellow-spy,” she said, with a contemptuous + gesture towards her husband; “I go with these gentlemen!” + </p> + <p> + “You will not,” said Clarence quietly, “until I have said a word to you + alone.” He laid his hand firmly upon her wrist. + </p> + <p> + The deputy and his prisoners filed slowly out of the courtyard together, + the latter courteously saluting Mrs. Brant as they passed, but turning + from Judge Beeswinger in contemptuous silence. The judge followed them to + the gate, but there he paused. Turning to Mrs. Brant, who was still half + struggling in the strong grip of her husband, he said,— + </p> + <p> + “Any compunction I may have had in misleading you by accepting your + invitation here I dismissed after I had entered this house. And I trust,” + he added, turning to Clarence sternly, “I leave you the master of it!” + </p> + <p> + As the gate closed behind him, Clarence locked it. When his wife turned + upon him angrily, he said quietly,— + </p> + <p> + “I have no intention of restraining your liberty a moment after our + interview is over, but until then I do not intend to be disturbed.” + </p> + <p> + She threw herself disdainfully back in her chair, her hands clasped in her + lap in half-contemptuous resignation, with her eyes upon her long slim + arched feet crossed before her. Even in her attitude there was something + of her old fascination which, however, now seemed to sting Clarence to the + quick. + </p> + <p> + “I have nothing to say to you in regard to what has just passed in this + house, except that as long as I remain even nominally its master it shall + not be repeated. Although I shall no longer attempt to influence or + control your political sympathies, I shall not allow you to indulge them + where in any way they seem to imply my sanction. But so little do I oppose + your liberty, that you are free to rejoin your political companions + whenever you choose to do so on your own responsibility. But I must first + know from your own lips whether your sympathies are purely political—or + a name for something else?” + </p> + <p> + She had alternately flushed and paled, although still keeping her scornful + attitude as he went on, but there was no mistaking the genuineness of her + vague wonderment at his concluding words. + </p> + <p> + “I don't understand you,” she said, lifting her eyes to his in a moment of + cold curiosity. “What do you mean?” + </p> + <p> + “What do I mean? What did Judge Beeswinger mean when he called Captain + Pinckney a double traitor?” he said roughly. + </p> + <p> + She sprang to her feet with flashing eyes. “And you—YOU! dare to + repeat the cowardly lie of a confessed spy. This, then, is what you wished + to tell me—this the insult for which you have kept me here; because + you are incapable of understanding unselfish patriotism or devotion—even + to your own cause—you dare to judge me by your own base, + Yankee-trading standards. Yes, it is worthy of you!” She walked rapidly up + and down, and then suddenly faced him. “I understand it all; I appreciate + your magnanimity now. You are willing I should join the company of these + chivalrous gentlemen in order to give color to your calumnies! Say at once + that it was you who put up this spy to correspond with me—to come + here—in order to entrap me. Yes entrap me—I—who a moment + ago stood up for you before these gentlemen, and said you could not lie. + Bah!” + </p> + <p> + Struck only by the wild extravagance of her speech and temper, Clarence + did not know that when women are most illogical they are apt to be most + sincere, and from a man's standpoint her unreasoning deductions appeared + to him only as an affectation to gain time for thought, or a theatrical + display, like Susy's. And he was turning half contemptuously away, when + she again faced him with flashing eyes. + </p> + <p> + “Well, hear me! I accept; I leave here at once, to join my own people, my + own friends—those who understand me—put what construction on + it that you choose. Do your worst; you cannot do more to separate us than + you have done just now.” + </p> + <p> + She left him, and ran up the steps with a singular return of her old + occasional nymph-like nimbleness—the movement of a woman who had + never borne children—and a swish of her long skirts that he + remembered for many a day after, as she disappeared in the corridor. He + remained looking after her—indignant, outraged, and unconvinced. + There was a rattling at the gate. + </p> + <p> + He remembered he had locked it. He opened it to the flushed pink cheeks + and dancing eyes of Susy. The rain was still dripping from her wet cloak + as she swung it from her shoulders. + </p> + <p> + “I know it all!—all that's happened,” she burst out with + half-girlish exuberance and half the actress's declamation. “We met them + all in the road—posse and prisoners. Chief Thompson knew me and told + me all. And so you've done it—and you're master in your old house + again. Clarence, old boy! Jim said you wouldn't do it—said you'd + weaken on account of her! But I said 'No.' I knew you better, old + Clarence, and I saw it in your face, for all your stiffness! ha! But for + all that I was mighty nervous and uneasy, and I just made Jim send an + excuse to the theatre and we rushed it down here! Lordy! but it looks + natural to see the old house again! And she—you packed her off with + the others—didn't you? Tell me, Clarence,” in her old appealing + voice, “you shook her, too!” + </p> + <p> + Dazed and astounded, and yet experiencing a vague sense of relief with + something like his old tenderness towards the willful woman before him, he + had silently regarded her until her allusion to his wife recalled him to + himself. + </p> + <p> + “Hush!” he said quickly, with a glance towards the corridor. + </p> + <p> + “Ah!” said Susy, with a malicious smile, “then that's why Captain Pinckney + was lingering in the rear with the deputy.” + </p> + <p> + “Silence!” repeated Clarence sternly. “Go in there,” pointing to the + garden room below the balcony, “and wait there with your husband.” + </p> + <p> + He half led, half pushed her into the room which had been his business + office, and returned to the patio. A hesitating voice from the balcony + said, “Clarence!” + </p> + <p> + It was his wife's voice, but modified and gentler—more like her + voice as he had first heard it, or as if it had been chastened by some + reminiscence of those days. It was his wife's face, too, that looked down + on his—paler than he had seen it since he entered the house. She was + shawled and hooded, carrying a traveling-bag in her hand. + </p> + <p> + “I am going, Clarence,” she said, pausing before him, with gentle gravity, + “but not in anger. I even ask you to forgive me for the foolish words that + I think your still more foolish accusation”—she smiled faintly—“dragged + from me. I am going because I know that I have brought—and that + while I am here I shall always be bringing—upon you the imputation + and even the responsibility of my own faith! While I am proud to own it,—and + if needs be suffer for it,—I have no right to ruin your prospects, + or even make you the victim of the slurs that others may cast upon me. Let + us part as friends—separated only by our different political faiths, + but keeping all other faiths together—until God shall settle the + right of this struggle. Perhaps it may be soon—I sometimes think it + may be years of agony for all; but until then, good-by.” + </p> + <p> + She had slowly descended the steps to the patio, looking handsomer than he + had ever seen her, and as if sustained and upheld by the enthusiasm of her + cause. Her hand was outstretched towards his—his heart beat + violently—in another moment he might have forgotten all and clasped + her to his breast. Suddenly she stopped, her outstretched arm stiffened, + her finger pointed to the chair on which Susy's cloak was hanging. + </p> + <p> + “What's that?” she said in a sharp, high, metallic voice. “Who is here? + Speak!” + </p> + <p> + “Susy,” said Clarence. + </p> + <p> + She cast a scathing glance round the patio, and then settled her piercing + eyes on Clarence with a bitter smile. + </p> + <p> + “Already!” + </p> + <p> + Clarence felt the blood rush to his face as he stammered, “She knew what + was happening here, and came to give you warning.” + </p> + <p> + “Liar!” + </p> + <p> + “Stop!” said Clarence, with a white face. “She came to tell me that + Captain Pinckney was still lingering for you in the road.” + </p> + <p> + He threw open the gate to let her pass. As she swept out she lifted her + hand. As he closed the gate there were the white marks of her four fingers + on his cheek. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0004" id="link2HCH0004"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER IV. + </h2> + <p> + For once Susy had not exaggerated. Captain Pinckney WAS lingering, with + the deputy who had charge of him, on the trail near the casa. It had + already been pretty well understood by both captives and captors that the + arrest was simply a legal demonstration; that the sympathizing Federal + judge would undoubtedly order the discharge of the prisoners on their own + recognizances, and it was probable that the deputy saw no harm in granting + Pinckney's request—which was virtually only a delay in his + liberation. It was also possible that Pinckney had worked upon the + chivalrous sympathies of the man by professing his disinclination to leave + their devoted colleague, Mrs. Brant, at the mercy of her antagonistic and + cold-blooded husband at such a crisis, and it is to be feared also that + Clarence, as a reputed lukewarm partisan, excited no personal sympathy, + even from his own party. Howbeit, the deputy agreed to delay Pinckney's + journey for a parting interview with his fair hostess. + </p> + <p> + How far this expressed the real sentiments of Captain Pinckney was never + known. Whether his political association with Mrs. Brant had developed + into a warmer solicitude, understood or ignored by her,—what were + his hopes and aspirations regarding her future,—were by the course + of fate never disclosed. A man of easy ethics, but rigid artificialities + of honor, flattered and pampered by class prejudice, a so-called “man of + the world,” with no experience beyond his own limited circle, yet brave + and devoted to that, it were well perhaps to leave this last act of his + inefficient life as it was accepted by the deputy. + </p> + <p> + Dismounting he approached the house from the garden. He was already + familiar with the low arched doorway which led to the business room, and + from which he could gain admittance to the patio, but it so chanced that + he entered the dark passage at the moment that Clarence had thrust Susy + into the business room, and heard its door shut sharply. For an instant he + believed that Mrs. Brant had taken refuge there, but as he cautiously + moved forward he heard her voice in the patio beyond. Its accents struck + him as pleading; an intense curiosity drew him further along the passage. + Suddenly her voice seemed to change to angry denunciation, and the word + “Liar” rang upon his ears. It was followed by his own name uttered + sardonically by Clarence, the swift rustle of a skirt, the clash of the + gate, and then—forgetting everything, he burst into the patio. + </p> + <p> + Clarence was just turning from the gate with the marks of his wife's hand + still red on his white cheek. He saw Captain Pinckney's eyes upon it, and + the faint, half-malicious, half-hysteric smile upon his lips. But without + a start or gesture of surprise he locked the gate, and turning to him, + said with frigid significance,— + </p> + <p> + “I thank you for returning so promptly, and for recognizing the only thing + I now require at your hand.” + </p> + <p> + But Captain Pinckney had recovered his supercilious ease with the + significant demand. + </p> + <p> + “You seem to have had something already from another's hand, sir, but I am + at your service,” he said lightly. + </p> + <p> + “You will consider that I have accepted it from you,” said Clarence, + drawing closer to him with a rigid face. “I suppose it will not be + necessary for me to return it—to make you understand me.” + </p> + <p> + “Go on,” said Pinckney, flushing slightly. “Make your terms; I am ready.” + </p> + <p> + “But I'm not,” said the unexpected voice of the deputy at the grille of + the gateway. “Excuse my interfering, gentlemen, but this sort o' thing + ain't down in my schedule. I've let this gentleman,” pointing to Captain + Pinckney, “off for a minit to say 'good-by' to a lady, who I reckon has + just ridden off in her buggy with her servant without saying by your + leave, but I didn't calkelate to let him inter another business, which, + like as not, may prevent me from delivering his body safe and sound into + court. You hear me!” As Clarence opened the gate he added, “I don't want + ter spoil sport between gents, but it's got to come in after I've done my + duty.” + </p> + <p> + “I'll meet you, sir, anywhere, and with what weapons you choose,” said + Pinckney, turning angrily upon Clarence, “as soon as this farce—for + which you and your friends are responsible—is over.” He was furious + at the intimation that Mrs. Brant had escaped him. + </p> + <p> + A different thought was in the husband's mind. “But what assurance have I + that you are going on with the deputy?” he said with purposely insulting + deliberation. + </p> + <p> + “My word, sir,” said Captain Pinckney sharply. + </p> + <p> + “And if that ain't enuff, there's mine!” said the deputy. “For if this + gentleman swerves to the right or left betwixt this and Santa Inez, I'll + blow a hole through him myself. And that,” he added deprecatingly, “is + saying a good deal for a man who doesn't want to spoil sport, and for the + matter of that is willing to stand by and see fair play done at Santa Inez + any time to-morrow before breakfast.” + </p> + <p> + “Then I can count on you,” said Clarence, with a sudden impulse extending + his hand. + </p> + <p> + The man hesitated a moment and then grasped it. + </p> + <p> + “Well, I wasn't expecting that,” he said slowly; “but you look as if you + meant business, and if you ain't got anybody else to see you through, I'm + thar! I suppose this gentleman will have his friends.” + </p> + <p> + “I shall be there at six with my seconds,” said Pinckney curtly. “Lead + on.” + </p> + <p> + The gate closed behind them. Clarence stood looking around the empty patio + and the silent house, from which it was now plain that the servants had + been withdrawn to insure the secrecy of the conspiracy. Cool and collected + as he knew he was, he remained for a moment in hesitation. Then the sound + of voices came to his ear from the garden room, the light frivolity of + Susy's laugh and Hooker's huskier accents. He had forgotten they were + there—he had forgotten their existence! + </p> + <p> + Trusting still to his calmness, he called to Hooker in his usual voice. + That gentleman appeared with a face which his attempts to make unconcerned + and impassive had, however, only deepened into funereal gravity. + </p> + <p> + “I have something to attend to,” said Clarence, with a faint smile, “and I + must ask you and Susy to excuse me for a little while. She knows the house + perfectly, and will call the servants from the annex to provide you both + with refreshment until I join you a little later.” Satisfied from Hooker's + manner that they knew nothing of his later interview with Pinckney, he + turned away and ascended to his own room. + </p> + <p> + There he threw himself into an armchair by the dim light of a single + candle as if to reflect. But he was conscious, even then, of his own + calmness and want of excitement, and that no reflection was necessary. + What he had done and what he intended to do was quite clear, there was no + alternative suggested or to be even sought after. He had that sense of + relief which comes with the climax of all great struggles, even of defeat. + </p> + <p> + He had never known before how hopeless and continuous had been that + struggle until now it was over. He had no fear of tomorrow, he would meet + it as he had to-day, with the same singular consciousness of being equal + to the occasion. There was even no necessity of preparation for it; his + will, leaving his fortune to his wife,—which seemed a slight thing + now in this greater separation,—was already in his safe in San + Francisco, his pistols were in the next room. He was even slightly + disturbed by his own insensibility, and passed into his wife's bedroom + partly in the hope of disturbing his serenity by some memento of their + past. There was no disorder of flight—everything was in its place, + except the drawer of her desk, which was still open, as if she had taken + something from it as an afterthought. There were letters and papers there, + some of his own and some in Captain Pinckney's handwriting. It did not + occur to him to look at them—even to justify himself, or excuse her. + He knew that his hatred of Captain Pinckney was not so much that he + believed him her lover, as his sudden conviction that she was like him! He + was the male of her species—a being antagonistic to himself, whom he + could fight, and crush, and revenge himself upon. But most of all he + loathed his past, not on account of her, but of his own weakness that had + made him her dupe and a misunderstood man to his friends. He had been + derelict of duty in his unselfish devotion to her; he had stifled his + ambition, and underrated his own possibilities. No wonder that others had + accepted him at his own valuation. Clarence Brant was a modest man, but + the egotism of modesty is more fatal than that of pretension, for it has + the haunting consciousness of superior virtue. + </p> + <p> + He re-entered his own room and again threw himself into his chair. His + calm was being succeeded by a physical weariness; he remembered he had not + slept the night before, and he ought to take some rest to be fresh in the + early morning. Yet he must also show himself before his self-invited + guests,—Susy and her husband,—or their suspicions would be + aroused. He would try to sleep for a little while in the chair before he + went downstairs again. He closed his eyes oddly enough on a dim dreamy + recollection of Susy in the old days, in the little madrono hollow where + she had once given him a rendezvous. He forgot the maturer and critical + uneasiness with which he had then received her coquettish and willful + advances, which he now knew was the effect of the growing dominance of + Mrs. Peyton over him, and remembered only her bright, youthful eyes, and + the kisses he had pressed upon her soft fragrant cheek. The faintness he + had felt when waiting in the old rose garden, a few hours ago, seemed to + steal on him once more, and to lapse into a pleasant drowsiness. He even + seemed again to inhale the perfume of the roses. + </p> + <p> + “Clarence!” + </p> + <p> + He started. He had been sleeping, but the voice sounded strangely real. + </p> + <p> + A light, girlish laugh followed. He sprang to his feet. It was Susy + standing beside him—and Susy even as she looked in the old days! + </p> + <p> + For with a flash of her old audacity, aided by her familiar knowledge of + the house and the bunch of household keys she had found, which dangled + from her girdle, as in the old fashion, she had disinterred one of her old + frocks from a closet, slipped it on, and unloosening her brown hair had + let it fall in rippling waves down her back. It was Susy in her old + girlishness, with the instinct of the grown actress in the arrangement of + her short skirt over her pretty ankles and the half-conscious pose she had + taken. + </p> + <p> + “Poor dear old Clarence,” she said, with dancing eyes; “I might have won a + dozen pairs of gloves from you while you slept there. But you're tired, + dear old boy, and you've had a hard time of it. No matter; you've shown + yourself a man at last, and I'm proud of you.” + </p> + <p> + Half ashamed of the pleasure he felt even in his embarrassment, Clarence + stammered, “But this change—this dress.” + </p> + <p> + Susy clapped her hands like a child. “I knew it would surprise you! It's + an old frock I wore the year I went away with auntie. I knew where it was + hidden, and fished it out again with these keys, Clarence; it seemed so + like old times. Lord! when I was with the old servants again, and you + didn't come down, I just felt as if I'd never been away, and I just + rampaged free. It seemed to me, don't you know, not as if I'd just come, + but as if I'd always been right here, and it was you who'd just come. + Don't you understand! Just as you came when me and Mary Rogers were here; + don't you remember her, Clarence, and how she used to do 'gooseberry' for + us? Well, just like that. So I said to Jim, 'I don't know you any more—get!' + and I just slipped on this frock and ordered Manuela around as I used to + do—and she in fits of laughter; I reckon, Clarence, she hasn't + laughed as much since I left. And then I thought of you—perhaps + worried and flustered as yet over things, and the change, and I just + slipped into the kitchen and I told old fat Conchita to make some of these + tortillas you know,—with sugar and cinnamon sprinkled on top,—and + I tied on an apron and brought 'em up to you on a tray with a glass of + that old Catalan wine you used to like. Then I sorter felt frightened when + I got here, and I didn't hear any noise, and I put the tray down in the + hall and peeped in and found you asleep. Sit still, I'll fetch em.” + </p> + <p> + She tripped out into the passage, returning with the tray, which she put + on the table beside Clarence, and then standing back a little and with her + hands tucked soubrette fashion in the tiny pockets of her apron, gazed at + him with a mischievous smile. + </p> + <p> + It was impossible not to smile back as he nibbled the crisp Mexican cake + and drank the old mission wine. And Susy's tongue trilled an accompaniment + to his thanks. + </p> + <p> + “Lord! it seems so nice to be here—just you and me, Clarence—like + in the old days—with nobody naggin' and swoopin' round after you. + Don't be greedy, Clarence, but give me a cake.” She took one and finished + the dregs of his glass. + </p> + <p> + Then sitting on the arm of his chair, she darted a violet ray of half + reproach and half mischievousness into his amused and retrospective eyes. + “There used to be room for two in that chair, Klarns.” + </p> + <p> + The use of the old childish diminutive for his name seemed to him natural + as her familiarity, and he moved a little sideways to make room for her + with an instinct of pleasure, but the same sense of irresponsibility that + had characterized his reflections. Nevertheless, he looked critically into + the mischievous eyes, and said quietly,— + </p> + <p> + “Where is your husband?” + </p> + <p> + There was no trace of embarrassment, apology, or even of consciousness in + her pretty face as she replied, passing her hand lightly through his hair,— + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Jim? I've packed him off!” + </p> + <p> + “Packed him off!” echoed Clarence, slightly astonished. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, to Fair Plains, full tilt after your wife's buggy. You see, + Clarence, after the old cat—that's your wife, please—left, I + wanted to make sure she had gone, and wasn't hangin' round to lead you off + again with your leg tied to her apron string like a chicken's! No! I said + to Jim, 'Just you ride after her until you see she's safe and sound in the + down coach from Fair Plains without her knowin' it, and if she's inclined + to hang back or wobble any, you post back here and let me know!' I told + him I would stay and look after you to see you didn't bolt too!” She + laughed, and then added, “But I didn't think I should fall into the old + ways so soon, and have such a nice time. Did you, Clarence?” + </p> + <p> + She looked so irresponsible, sitting there with her face near his, and so + childishly, or perhaps thoughtlessly, happy, that he could only admire her + levity, and even the slight shock that her flippant allusion to his wife + had given him seemed to him only a weakness of his own. After all, was not + hers the true philosophy? Why should not these bright eyes see things more + clearly than his own? Nevertheless, with his eyes still fixed upon them, + he continued,— + </p> + <p> + “And Jim was willing to go?” + </p> + <p> + She stopped, with her fingers still lifting a lock of his hair. “Why, yes, + you silly—why shouldn't he? I'd like to see him refuse. Why, Lord! + Jim will do anything I ask him.” She put down the lock of hair, and + suddenly looking full into his eyes, said, “That's just the difference + between him and me, and you and—that woman!” + </p> + <p> + “Then you love him!” + </p> + <p> + “About as much as you love her,” she said, with an unaffected laugh; “only + he don't wind me around his finger.” + </p> + <p> + No doubt she was right for all her thoughtlessness, and yet he was going + to fight about that woman to-morrow! No—he forgot; he was going to + fight Captain Pinckney because he was like her! + </p> + <p> + Susy had put her finger on the crease between his brows which this + supposition had made, and tried to rub it out. + </p> + <p> + “You know it as well as I do, Clarence,” she said, with a pretty wrinkling + of her own brows, which was her nearest approach to thoughtfulness. “You + know you never really liked her, only you thought her ways were grander + and more proper than mine, and you know you were always a little bit of a + snob and a prig too—dear boy. And Mrs. Peyton was—bless my + soul!—a Benham and a planter's daughter, and I—I was only a + picked-up orphan! That's where Jim is better than you—now sit still, + goosey!—even if I don't like him as much. Oh, I know what you're + always thinking, you're thinking we're both exaggerated and theatrical, + ain't you? But don't you think it's a heap better to be exaggerated and + theatrical about things that are just sentimental and romantic than to be + so awfully possessed and overcome about things that are only real? There, + you needn't stare at me so! It's true. You've had your fill of grandeur + and propriety, and—here you are. And,” she added with a little + chuckle, as she tucked up her feet and leaned a little closer to him, + “here's ME.” + </p> + <p> + He did not speak, but his arm quite unconsciously passed round her small + waist. + </p> + <p> + “You see, Clarence,” she went on with equal unconsciousness of the act, + “you ought never to have let me go—never! You ought to have kept me + here—or run away with me. And you oughtn't to have tried to make me + proper. And you oughtn't to have driven me to flirt with that horrid + Spaniard, and you oughtn't to have been so horribly cold and severe when I + did. And you oughtn't to have made me take up with Jim, who was the only + one who thought me his equal. I might have been very silly and capricious; + I might have been very vain, but my vanity isn't a bit worse than your + pride; my love of praise and applause in the theatre isn't a bit more + horrid than your fears of what people might think of you or me. That's + gospel truth, isn't it, Clarence? Tell me! Don't look that way and this—look + at ME! I ain't poisonous, Clarence. Why, one of your cheeks is redder than + the other, Clarence; that's the one that's turned from me. Come,” she went + on, taking the lapels of his coat between her hands and half shaking him, + half drawing him nearer her bright face. “Tell me—isn't it true?” + </p> + <p> + “I was thinking of you just now when I fell asleep, Susy,” he said. He did + not know why he said it; he had not intended to tell her, he had only + meant to avoid a direct answer to her question; yet even now he went on. + “And I thought of you when I was out there in the rose garden waiting to + come in here.” + </p> + <p> + “You did?” she said, drawing in her breath. A wave of delicate pink color + came up to her very eyes, it seemed to him as quickly and as innocently as + when she was a girl. “And what DID you think, Klarns,” she half whispered—“tell + me.” + </p> + <p> + He did not speak, but answered her blue eyes and then her lips, as her + arms slipped quite naturally around his neck. + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + The dawn was breaking as Clarence and Jim Hooker emerged together from the + gate of the casa. Mr. Hooker looked sleepy. He had found, after his return + from Fair Plains, that his host had an early engagement at Santa Inez, and + he had insisted upon rising to see him off. It was with difficulty, + indeed, that Clarence could prevent his accompanying him. Clarence had not + revealed to Susy the night before the real object of his journey, nor did + Hooker evidently suspect it, yet when the former had mounted his horse, he + hesitated for an instant, extending his hand. + </p> + <p> + “If I should happen to be detained,” he began with a half smile. + </p> + <p> + But Jim was struggling with a yawn. “That's all right—don't mind + us,” he said, stretching his arms. Clarence's hesitating hand dropped to + his side, and with a light reckless laugh and a half sense of providential + relief he galloped away. + </p> + <p> + What happened immediately thereafter during his solitary ride to Santa + Inez, looking back upon it in after years, seemed but a confused + recollection, more like a dream. The long stretches of vague distance, + gradually opening clearer with the rising sun in an unclouded sky; the + meeting with a few early or belated travelers and his unconscious + avoidance of them, as if they might know of his object; the black shadows + of foreshortened cattle rising before him on the plain and arousing the + same uneasy sensation of their being waylaying men; the wondering + recognition of houses and landmarks he had long been familiar with; his + purposeless attempts to recall the circumstances in which he had known + them—all these were like a dream. So, too, were the recollections of + the night before, the episode with Susy, already mingled and blended with + the memory of their previous past; his futile attempts to look forward to + the future, always, however, abandoned with relief at the thought that the + next few hours might make them unnecessary. So also was the sudden + realization that Santa Inez was before him, when he had thought he was not + yet halfway there, and as he dismounted before the Court House his + singular feeling—followed, however, by no fear or distress—was + that he had come so early to the rendezvous that he was not yet quite + prepared for it. + </p> + <p> + This same sense of unreality pervaded his meeting with the deputy sheriff, + at the news that the Federal judge had, as was expected, dismissed the + prisoners on their own recognizances, and that Captain Pinckney was at the + hotel at breakfast. In the like abstracted manner he replied to the one or + two questions of the deputy, exhibited the pistols he had brought with + him, and finally accompanied him to a little meadow hidden by trees, below + the hotel, where the other principal and his seconds were awaiting them. + And here he awoke—clear-eyed, keen, forceful, and intense! + </p> + <p> + So stimulated were his faculties that his sense of hearing in its + acuteness took in every word of the conversation between the seconds, a + few paces distant. He heard his adversary's seconds say carelessly to the + deputy sheriff, “I presume this is a case where there will be no apology + or mediation,” and the deputy's reply, “I reckon my man means business, + but he seems a little queer.” He heard the other second laugh, and say + lightly, “They're apt to be so when it's their first time out,” followed + by the more anxious aside of the other second as the deputy turned away,—“Yes, + but by G-d I don't like his looks!” His sense of sight was also so acute + that having lost the choice of position, when the coin was tossed, and + being turned with his face to the sun, even through the glare he saw, with + unerring distinctness of outline, the black-coated figure of his opponent + moved into range—saw the perfect outline of his features, and how + the easy, supercilious smile, as he threw away his cigar, appeared to drop + out of his face with a kind of vacant awe as he faced him. He felt his + nerves become as steel as the counting began, and at the word “three,” + knew he had fired by the recoil of the pistol in his leveled hand, + simultaneously with its utterance. And at the same moment, still standing + like a rock, he saw his adversary miserably collapse, his legs grotesquely + curving inwards under him,—without even the dignity of death in his + fall,—and so sink helplessly like a felled bull to the ground. Still + erect, and lowering only the muzzle of his pistol, as a thin feather of + smoke curled up its shining side, he saw the doctor and seconds run + quickly to the heap, try to lift its limp impotence into shape, and let it + drop again with the words, “Right through the forehead, by G-d!” + </p> + <p> + “You've done for him,” said the deputy, turning to Clarence with a + singular look of curiosity, “and I reckon you had better get out of this + mighty quick. They didn't expect it; they're just ragin'; they may round + on you—and”—he added, more slowly, “they seem to have just + found out who you are.” + </p> + <p> + Even while he was speaking, Clarence, with his quickened ear, heard the + words, “One of Hamilton Brant's pups” “Just like his father,” from the + group around the dead man. He did not hesitate, but walked coolly towards + them. Yet a certain fierce pride—which he had never known before—stirred + in his veins as their voices hushed and they half recoiled before him. + </p> + <p> + “Am I to understand from my second, gentlemen,” he said, looking round the + group, “that you are not satisfied?” + </p> + <p> + “The fight was square enough,” said Pinckney's second in some + embarrassment, “but I reckon that he,” pointing to the dead man, “did not + know who you were.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you mean that he did not know that I was the son of a man proficient + in the use of arms?” + </p> + <p> + “I reckon that's about it,” returned the second, glancing at the others. + </p> + <p> + “I am glad to say, sir, that I have a better opinion of his courage,” said + Clarence, lifting his hat to the dead body as he turned away. + </p> + <p> + Yet he was conscious of no remorse, concern, or even pity in his act. + Perhaps this was visible in his face, for the group appeared awed by this + perfection of the duelist's coolness, and even returned his formal parting + salutation with a vague and timid respect. He thanked the deputy, regained + the hotel, saddled his horse and galloped away. + </p> + <p> + But not towards the Rancho. Now that he could think of his future, that + had no place in his reflections; even the episode of Susy was forgotten in + the new and strange conception of himself and his irresponsibility which + had come upon him with the killing of Pinckney and the words of his + second. It was his dead father who had stiffened his arm and directed the + fatal shot! It was hereditary influences—which others had been so + quick to recognize—that had brought about this completing climax of + his trouble. How else could he account for it that he—a + conscientious, peaceful, sensitive man, tender and forgiving as he had + believed himself to be—could now feel so little sorrow or + compunction for his culminating act? He had read of successful duelists + who were haunted by remorse for their first victim; who retained a + terrible consciousness of the appearance of the dead man; he had no such + feeling; he had only a grim contentment in the wiped-out inefficient life, + and contempt for the limp and helpless body. He suddenly recalled his + callousness as a boy when face to face with the victims of the Indian + massacre, his sense of fastidious superciliousness in the discovery of the + body of Susy's mother!—surely it was the cold blood of his father + influencing him ever thus. What had he to do with affection, with domestic + happiness, with the ordinary ambitions of man's life—whose blood was + frozen at its source! Yet even with this very thought came once more the + old inconsistent tenderness he had as a boy lavished upon the almost + unknown and fugitive father who had forsaken his childish companionship, + and remembered him only by secret gifts. He remembered how he had + worshiped him even while the pious padres at San Jose were endeavoring to + eliminate this terrible poison from his blood and combat his hereditary + instinct in his conflicts with his school-fellows. And it was a part of + this inconsistency that, riding away from the scene of his first + bloodshed, his eyes were dimmed with moisture, not for his victim, but for + the one being who he believed had impelled him to the act. + </p> + <p> + This and more was in his mind during his long ride to Fair Plains, his + journey by coach to the Embarcadero, his midnight passage across the dark + waters of the bay, and his re-entrance to San Francisco, but what should + be his future was still unsettled. + </p> + <p> + As he wound round the crest of Russian Hill and looked down again upon the + awakened city, he was startled to see that it was fluttering and streaming + with bunting. From every public building and hotel, from the roofs of + private houses, and even the windows of lonely dwellings, flapped and + waved the striped and starry banner. The steady breath of the sea carried + it out from masts and yards of ships at their wharves, from the + battlements of the forts Alcatraz and Yerba Bueno. He remembered that the + ferryman had told him that the news from Fort Sumter had swept the city + with a revulsion of patriotic sentiment, and that there was no doubt that + the State was saved to the Union. He looked down upon it with haggard, + bewildered eyes, and then a strange gasp and fullness of the throat! For + afar a solitary bugle had blown the “reveille” at Fort Alcatraz. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_PART2" id="link2H_PART2"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + PART II. + </h2> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0005" id="link2HCH0005"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER I. + </h2> + <p> + Night at last, and the stir and tumult of a great fight over. Even the + excitement that had swept this portion of the battlefield—only a + small section of a vaster area of struggle—into which a brigade had + marched, held its own, been beaten back, recovered its ground, and + pursuing, had passed out of it forever, leaving only its dead behind, and + knowing nothing more of that struggle than its own impact and momentum—even + this wild excitement had long since evaporated with the stinging smoke of + gunpowder, the acrid smell of burning rags from the clothing of a dead + soldier fired by a bursting shell, or the heated reek of sweat and + leather. A cool breath that seemed to bring back once more the odor of the + upturned earthworks along the now dumb line of battle began to move from + the suggestive darkness beyond. + </p> + <p> + But into that awful penetralia of death and silence there was no invasion—there + had been no retreat. A few of the wounded had been brought out, under + fire, but the others had been left with the dead for the morning light and + succor. For it was known that in that horrible obscurity, riderless + horses, frantic with the smell of blood, galloped wildly here and there, + or, maddened by wounds, plunged furiously at the intruder; that the + wounded soldier, still armed, could not always distinguish friend from foe + or from the ghouls of camp followers who stripped the dead in the darkness + and struggled with the dying. A shot or two heard somewhere in that + obscurity counted as nothing with the long fusillade that had swept it in + the daytime; the passing of a single life, more or less, amounted to + little in the long roll-call of the day's slaughter. + </p> + <p> + But with the first beams of the morning sun—and the slowly moving + “relief detail” from the camp—came a weird half-resurrection of that + ghastly field. Then it was that the long rays of sunlight, streaming away + a mile beyond the battle line, pointed out the first harvest of the dead + where the reserves had been posted. There they lay in heaps and piles, + killed by solid shot or bursting shells that had leaped the battle line to + plunge into the waiting ranks beyond. As the sun lifted higher its beams + fell within the range of musketry fire, where the dead lay thicker,—even + as they had fallen when killed outright,—with arms extended and feet + at all angles to the field. As it touched these dead upturned faces, + strangely enough it brought out no expression of pain or anguish—but + rather as if death had arrested them only in surprise and awe. It revealed + on the lips of those who had been mortally wounded and had turned upon + their side the relief which death had brought their suffering, sometimes + shown in a faint smile. Mounting higher, it glanced upon the actual battle + line, curiously curving for the shelter of walls, fences, and breastworks, + and here the dead lay, even as when they lay and fired, their faces prone + in the grass but their muskets still resting across the breastworks. + Exposed to grape and canister from the battery on the ridge, death had + come to them mercifully also—through the head and throat. And now + the whole field lay bare in the sunlight, broken with grotesque shadows + cast from sitting, crouching, half-recumbent but always rigid figures, + which might have been effigies on their own monuments. One half-kneeling + soldier, with head bowed between his stiffened hands, might have stood for + a carven figure of Grief at the feet of his dead comrade. A captain, shot + through the brain in the act of mounting a wall, lay sideways half across + it, his lips parted with a word of command; his sword still pointing over + the barrier the way that they should go. + </p> + <p> + But it was not until the sun had mounted higher that it struck the central + horror of the field and seemed to linger there in dazzling persistence, + now and then returning to it in startling flashes that it might be seen of + men and those who brought succor. A tiny brook had run obliquely near the + battle line. It was here that, the night before the battle, friend and foe + had filled their canteens side by side with soldierly recklessness—or + perhaps a higher instinct—purposely ignoring each other's presence; + it was here that the wounded had afterwards crept, crawled, and dragged + themselves, here they had pushed, wrangled, striven, and fought for a + draught of that precious fluid which assuaged the thirst of their wounds—or + happily put them out of their misery forever; here overborne, crushed, + suffocated by numbers, pouring their own blood into the flood, and + tumbling after it with their helpless bodies, they dammed the stream, + until recoiling, red and angry, it had burst its banks and overflowed the + cotton-field in a broad pool that now sparkled in the sunlight. But below + this human dam—a mile away—where the brook still crept + sluggishly, the ambulance horses sniffed and started from it. + </p> + <p> + The detail moved on slowly, doing their work expeditiously, and apparently + callously, but really only with that mechanical movement that saves + emotion. Only once they were moved to an outbreak of indignation,—the + discovery of the body of an officer whose pockets were turned inside out, + but whose hand was still tightly grasped on his buttoned waistcoat, as if + resisting the outrage that had been done while still in life. As the men + disengaged the stiffened hand something slipped from the waistcoat to the + ground. The corporal picked it up and handed it to his officer. It was a + sealed packet. The officer received it with the carelessness which long + experience of these pathetic missives from the dying to their living + relations had induced, and dropped it in the pocket of his tunic, with the + half-dozen others that he had picked up that morning, and moved on with + the detail. A little further on they halted, in the attitude of attention, + as a mounted officer appeared, riding slowly down the line. + </p> + <p> + There was something more than the habitual respect of their superior in + their faces as he came forward. For it was the general who had commanded + the brigade the day before,—the man who had leaped with one bound + into the foremost rank of military leaders. It was his invincible spirit + that had led the advance, held back defeat against overwhelming numbers, + sustained the rally, impressed his subordinate officers with his own + undeviating purpose, and even infused them with an almost superstitious + belief in his destiny of success. It was this man who had done what it was + deemed impossible to do,—what even at the time it was thought unwise + and unstrategic to do,—who had held a weak position, of apparently + no importance, under the mandate of an incomprehensible order from his + superior, which at best asked only for a sacrifice and was rewarded with a + victory. He had decimated his brigade, but the wounded and dying had + cheered him as he passed, and the survivors had pursued the enemy until + the bugle called them back. For such a record he looked still too young + and scholarly, albeit his handsome face was dark and energetic, and his + manner taciturn. + </p> + <p> + His quick eye had already caught sight of the rifled body of the officer, + and contracted. As the captain of the detail saluted him he said curtly,— + </p> + <p> + “I thought the orders were to fire upon any one desecrating the dead?” + </p> + <p> + “They are, General; but the hyenas don't give us a chance. That's all + yonder poor fellow saved from their claws,” replied the officer, as he + held up the sealed packet. “It has no address.” + </p> + <p> + The general took it, examined the envelope, thrust it into his belt, and + said,— + </p> + <p> + “I will take charge of it.” + </p> + <p> + The sound of horses' hoofs came from the rocky roadside beyond the brook. + Both men turned. A number of field officers were approaching. + </p> + <p> + “The division staff,” said the captain, in a lower voice, falling back. + </p> + <p> + They came slowly forward, a central figure on a gray horse leading here—as + in history. A short, thick-set man with a grizzled beard closely cropped + around an inscrutable mouth, and the serious formality of a respectable + country deacon in his aspect, which even the major-generals blazon on the + shoulder-strap of his loose tunic on his soldierly seat in the saddle + could not entirely obliterate. He had evidently perceived the general of + brigade, and quickened his horse as the latter drew up. The staff followed + more leisurely, but still with some curiosity, to witness the meeting of + the first general of the army with the youngest. The division general + saluted, but almost instantly withdrew his leathern gauntlet, and offered + his bared hand to the brigadier. The words of heroes are scant. The + drawn-up detail, the waiting staff listened. This was all they heard:— + </p> + <p> + “Halleck tells me you're from California?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, General.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah! I lived there, too, in the early days.” + </p> + <p> + “Wonderful country. Developed greatly since my time, I suppose?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, General.” + </p> + <p> + “Great resources; finest wheat-growing country in the world, sir. You + don't happen to know what the actual crop was this year?” + </p> + <p> + “Hardly, General! but something enormous.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I have always said it would be. Have a cigar?” + </p> + <p> + He handed his cigar-case to the brigadier. Then he took one himself, + lighted it at the smouldering end of the one he had taken from his mouth, + was about to throw the stump carelessly down, but, suddenly recollecting + himself, leaned over his horse, and dropped it carefully a few inches away + from the face of a dead soldier. Then, straightening himself in the + saddle, he shoved his horse against the brigadier, moving him a little + further on, while a slight movement of his hand kept the staff from + following. + </p> + <p> + “A heavy loss here!” + </p> + <p> + “I'm afraid so, General.” + </p> + <p> + “It couldn't be helped. We had to rush in your brigade to gain time, and + occupy the enemy, until we could change front.” + </p> + <p> + The young general looked at the shrewd, cold eyes of his chief. + </p> + <p> + “Change front?” he echoed. + </p> + <p> + “Yes. Before a gun was fired, we discovered that the enemy was in complete + possession of all our plans, and knew every detail of our forward + movement. All had to be changed.” + </p> + <p> + The younger man now instantly understood the incomprehensible order of the + day before. + </p> + <p> + The general of division continued, with his first touch of official + formality,— + </p> + <p> + “You understand, therefore, General Brant, that in the face of this + extraordinary treachery, the utmost vigilance is required, and a complete + surveillance of your camp followers and civilians, to detect the actual + spy within our lines, or the traitor we are harboring, who has become + possessed of this information. You will overhaul your brigade, and weed + out all suspects, and in the position which you are to take to-morrow, and + the plantation you will occupy, you will see that your private quarters, + as well as your lines, are cleared of all but those you can vouch for.” + </p> + <p> + He reined in his horse, again extended his hand, saluted, and rejoined his + staff. + </p> + <p> + Brigadier-General Clarence Brant remained for a moment with his head bent + in thoughtful contemplation of the coolness of his veteran chief under + this exciting disclosure, and the strategy with which he had frustrated + the traitor's success. Then his eye caught the sealed packet in his belt. + He mechanically drew it out, and broke the seal. The envelope was filled + with papers and memorandums. But as he looked at them his face darkened + and his brow knit. He glanced quickly around him. The staff had trotted + away; the captain and his detail were continuing their work at a little + distance. He took a long breath, for he was holding in his hand a tracing + of their camp, even of the position he was to occupy tomorrow, and a + detailed account of the movements, plans, and force of the whole division + as had been arranged in council of war the day before the battle! But + there was no indication of the writer or his intentions. + </p> + <p> + He thrust the papers hurriedly back into the envelope, but placed it, this + time, in his breast. He galloped towards the captain. + </p> + <p> + “Let me see again the officer from whom you took that packet!” + </p> + <p> + The captain led him to where the body lay, with others, extended more + decently on the grass awaiting removal. General Brant with difficulty + repressed an ejaculation. + </p> + <p> + “Why, it's one of our own men,” he said quickly. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, General. They say it's Lieutenant Wainwright, a regular, of the + paymaster general's department.” + </p> + <p> + “Then what was he doing here?” asked General Brant sternly. + </p> + <p> + “I can't make out, sir, unless he went into the last advance as a + volunteer. Wanted to see the fight, I suppose. He was a dashing fellow, a + West Pointer,—and a Southerner, too,—a Virginian.” + </p> + <p> + “A Southerner!” echoed Brant quickly. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “Search him again,” said Brant quietly. He had recovered his usual + coolness, and as the captain again examined the body, he took out his + tablets and wrote a few lines. It was an order to search the quarters of + Lieutenant Wainwright and bring all papers, letters, and documents to him. + He then beckoned one of the detail towards him. “Take that to the provost + marshal at once. Well, Captain,” he added calmly, as the officer again + approached him, “what do you find?” + </p> + <p> + “Only this, sir,” returned the captain, with a half smile, producing a + small photograph. “I suppose it was overlooked, too.” + </p> + <p> + He handed it to Brant. + </p> + <p> + There was a sudden fixing of his commanding officer's eyes, but his face + did not otherwise change. + </p> + <p> + “It's the usual find, General. Always a photograph! But this time a + handsome woman!” + </p> + <p> + “Very,” said Clarence Brant quietly. It was the portrait of his own wife. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0006" id="link2HCH0006"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER II. + </h2> + <p> + Nevertheless, so complete was his control of voice and manner that, as he + rode on to his quarters, no one would have dreamed that General Brant had + just looked upon the likeness of the wife from whom he had parted in anger + four years ago. Still less would they have suspected the strange fear that + came upon him that in some way she was connected with the treachery he had + just discovered. He had heard from her only once, and then through her + late husband's lawyer, in regard to her Californian property, and believed + that she had gone to her relations in Alabama, where she had identified + herself with the Southern cause, even to the sacrifice of her private + fortune. He had heard her name mentioned in the Southern press as a + fascinating society leader, and even coadjutrix of Southern politicians,—but + he had no reason to believe that she had taken so active or so desperate a + part in the struggle. He tried to think that his uneasiness sprang from + his recollection of the previous treachery of Captain Pinckney, and the + part that she had played in the Californian conspiracy, although he had + long since acquitted her of the betrayal of any nearer trust. But there + was a fateful similarity in the two cases. There was no doubt that this + Lieutenant Wainwright was a traitor in the camp,—that he had + succumbed to the usual sophistry of his class in regard to his superior + allegiance to his native State. But was there the inducement of another + emotion, or was the photograph only the souvenir of a fascinating + priestess of rebellion, whom the dead man had met? There was perhaps less + of feeling than scorn in the first suggestion, but he was nevertheless + relieved when the provost marshal found no other incriminating papers in + Wainwright's effects. Nor did he reveal to the division general the + finding of the photograph. It was sufficient to disclose the work of the + traitor without adding what might be a clue to his wife's participation in + it, near or remote. There was risk enough in the former course,—which + his duty made imperative. He hardly dared to think of the past day's + slaughter, which—there was no doubt now—had been due to the + previous work of the spy, and how his brigade had been selected—by + the irony of Fate—to suffer for and yet retrieve it. If she had had + a hand in this wicked plot, ought he to spare her? Or was his destiny and + hers to be thus monstrously linked together? + </p> + <p> + Luckily, however, the expiation of the chief offender and the timely + discovery of his papers enabled the division commander to keep the affair + discreetly silent, and to enjoin equal secrecy on the part of Brant. The + latter, however, did not relax his vigilance, and after the advance the + next day he made a minute inspection of the ground he was to occupy, its + approaches and connections with the outlying country, and the rebel lines; + increased the stringency of picket and sentry regulations, and exercised a + rigid surveillance of non-combatants and civilians within the lines, even + to the lowest canteener or camp follower. Then he turned his attention to + the house he was to occupy as his headquarters. + </p> + <p> + It was a fine specimen of the old colonial planter's house, with its broad + veranda, its great detached offices and negro quarters, and had, thus far, + escaped the ravages and billeting of the war. It had been occupied by its + owner up to a few days before the engagement, and so great had been the + confidence of the enemy in their success that it had been used as the + Confederate headquarters on the morning of the decisive battle. Jasmine + and rose, unstained by the sulphur of gunpowder, twined around its ruined + columns and half hid the recessed windows; the careless flower garden was + still in its unkempt and unplucked luxuriance; the courtyard before the + stables alone showed marks of the late military occupancy, and was + pulverized by the uneasy horse-hoofs of the waiting staff. But the mingled + impress of barbaric prodigality with patriarchal simplicity was still + there in the domestic arrangements of a race who lived on half equal + familiarity with strangers and their own servants. + </p> + <p> + The negro servants still remained, with a certain cat-like fidelity to the + place, and adapted themselves to the Northern invaders with a childlike + enjoyment of the novelty of change. Brant, nevertheless, looked them over + with an experienced eye, and satisfied himself of their trustworthiness; + there was the usual number of “boys,” gray-haired and grizzled in body + service, and the “mammys” and “aunties” of the kitchen. There were two or + three rooms in the wing which still contained private articles, pictures + and souvenirs of the family, and a “young lady's” boudoir, which Brant, + with characteristic delicacy, kept carefully isolated and intact from his + military household, and accessible only to the family servants. The room + he had selected for himself was nearest it,—a small, plainly + furnished apartment, with an almost conventual simplicity in its cold, + white walls and draperies, and the narrow, nun-like bed. It struck him + that it might have belonged to some prim elder daughter or maiden aunt, + who had acted as housekeeper, as it commanded the wing and servants' + offices, with easy access to the central hall. + </p> + <p> + There followed a week of inactivity in which Brant felt a singular + resemblance in this Southern mansion to the old casa at Robles. The + afternoon shadows of the deep verandas recalled the old monastic gloom of + the Spanish house, which even the presence of a lounging officer or + waiting orderly could not entirely dissipate, and the scent of the rose + and jasmine from his windows overcame him with sad memories. He began to + chafe under this inaction, and long again for the excitement of the march + and bivouac, in which, for the past four years, he had buried his past. + </p> + <p> + He was sitting one afternoon alone before his reports and dispatches, when + this influence seemed so strong that he half impulsively laid them aside + to indulge in along reverie. He was recalling his last day at Robles, the + early morning duel with Pinckney, the return to San Francisco, and the + sudden resolution which sent him that day across the continent to offer + his services to the Government. He remembered his delay in the Western + town, where a volunteer regiment was being recruited, his entrance into it + as a private, his rapid selection, through the force of his sheer devotion + and intelligent concentration, to the captaincy of his company; his swift + promotion on hard-fought fields to the head of the regiment, and the + singular success that had followed his resistless energy, which left him + no time to think of anything but his duty. The sudden intrusion of his + wife upon his career now, even in this accidental and perhaps innocent + way, had seriously unsettled him. + </p> + <p> + The shadows were growing heavier and deeper, it lacked only a few moments + of the sunset bugle, when he was recalled to himself by that singular + instinctive consciousness, common to humanity, of being intently looked + at. He turned quickly,—the door behind him closed softly. He rose + and slipped into the hall. The tall figure of a woman was going down the + passage. She was erect and graceful; but, as she turned towards the door + leading to the offices, he distinctly saw the gaudily turbaned head and + black silhouette of a negress. Nevertheless, he halted a moment at the + door of the next room. + </p> + <p> + “See who that woman is who has just passed, Mr. Martin. She doesn't seem + to belong to the house.” + </p> + <p> + The young officer rose, put on his cap, and departed. In a few moments he + returned. + </p> + <p> + “Was she tall, sir, of a good figure, and very straight?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + “She is a servant of our neighbors, the Manlys, who occasionally visits + the servants here. A mulatto, I think.” + </p> + <p> + Brant reflected. Many of the mulattoes and negresses were of good figure, + and the habit of carrying burdens on their heads gave them a singularly + erect carriage. + </p> + <p> + The lieutenant looked at his chief. + </p> + <p> + “Have you any orders to give concerning her, General?” + </p> + <p> + “No,” said Brant, after a moment's pause, and turned away. + </p> + <p> + The officer smiled. It seemed a good story to tell at mess of this human + weakness of his handsome, reserved, and ascetic-looking leader. + </p> + <p> + A few mornings afterwards Brant was interrupted over his reports by the + almost abrupt entrance of the officer of the day. His face was flushed, + and it was evident that only the presence of his superior restrained his + excitement. He held a paper in his hand. + </p> + <p> + “A lady presents this order and pass from Washington, countersigned by the + division general.” + </p> + <p> + “A lady?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir, she is dressed as such. But she has not only declined the most + ordinary civilities and courtesies we have offered her, but she has + insulted Mr. Martin and myself grossly, and demands to be shown to you—alone.” + </p> + <p> + Brant took the paper. It was a special order from the President, passing + Miss Matilda Faulkner through the Federal lines to visit her uncle's home, + known as “Gray Oaks,” now held and occupied as the headquarters of Brant's + Brigade, in order to arrange for the preservation and disposal of certain + family effects and private property that still remained there, or to take + and carry away such property; and invoking all necessary aid and + assistance from the United States forces in such occupancy. It was + countersigned by the division commander. It was perfectly regular and of + undoubted authenticity. He had heard of passes of this kind,—the + terror of the army,—issued in Washington under some strange + controlling influence and against military protest; but he did not let his + subordinate see the uneasiness with which it filled him. + </p> + <p> + “Show her in,” he said quietly. + </p> + <p> + But she had already entered, brushing scornfully past the officer, and + drawing her skirt aside, as if contaminated: a very pretty Southern girl, + scornful and red-lipped, clad in a gray riding-habit, and still carrying + her riding-whip clenched ominously in her slim, gauntleted hand! + </p> + <p> + “You have my permit in your hand,” she said brusquely, hardly raising her + eyes to Brant. “I suppose it's all straight enough,—and even if it + isn't, I don't reckon to be kept waiting with those hirelings.” + </p> + <p> + “Your 'permit' is 'straight' enough, Miss Faulkner,” said Brant, slowly + reading her name from the document before him. “But, as it does not seem + to include permission to insult my officers, you will perhaps allow them + first to retire.” + </p> + <p> + He made a sign to the officer, who passed out of the door. + </p> + <p> + As it closed, he went on, in a gentle but coldly unimpassioned voice,— + </p> + <p> + “I perceive you are a Southern lady, and therefore I need not remind you + that it is not considered good form to treat even the slaves of those one + does not like uncivilly, and I must, therefore, ask you to keep your + active animosity for myself.” + </p> + <p> + The young girl lifted her eyes. She had evidently not expected to meet a + man so young, so handsome, so refined, and so coldly invincible in manner. + Still less was she prepared for that kind of antagonism. In keeping up her + preconcerted attitude towards the “Northern hireling,” she had been met + with official brusqueness, contemptuous silence, or aggrieved indignation,—but + nothing so exasperating as this. She even fancied that this elegant but + sardonic-looking soldier was mocking her. She bit her red lip, but, with a + scornful gesture of her riding-whip, said,— + </p> + <p> + “I reckon that your knowledge of Southern ladies is, for certain reasons, + not very extensive.” + </p> + <p> + “Pardon me; I have had the honor of marrying one.” + </p> + <p> + Apparently more exasperated than before, she turned upon him abruptly. + </p> + <p> + “You say my pass is all right. Then I presume I may attend to the business + that brought me here.” + </p> + <p> + “Certainly; but you will forgive me if I imagined that an expression of + contempt for your hosts was a part of it.” + </p> + <p> + He rang a bell on the table. It was responded to by an orderly. + </p> + <p> + “Send all the household servants here.” + </p> + <p> + The room was presently filled with the dusky faces of the negro retainers. + Here and there was the gleaming of white teeth, but a majority of the + assembly wore the true negro serious acceptance of the importance of “an + occasion.” One or two even affected an official and soldierly bearing. + And, as he fully expected, there were several glances of significant + recognition of the stranger. + </p> + <p> + “You will give,” said Brant sternly, “every aid and attention to the wants + of this young lady, who is here to represent the interests of your old + master. As she will be entirely dependent upon you in all things connected + with her visit here, see to it that she does not have to complain to me of + any inattention,—or be obliged to ask for other assistance.” + </p> + <p> + As Miss Faulkner, albeit a trifle paler in the cheek, but as scornful as + ever, was about to follow the servants from the room, Brant stopped her, + with a coldly courteous gesture. + </p> + <p> + “You will understand, therefore, Miss Faulkner, that you have your wish, + and that you will not be exposed to any contact with the members of my + military family, nor they with you.” + </p> + <p> + “Am I then to be a prisoner in this house—and under a free pass of + your—President?” she said indignantly. + </p> + <p> + “By no means! You are free to come and go, and see whom you please. I have + no power to control your actions. But I have the power to control theirs.” + </p> + <p> + She swept furiously from the room. + </p> + <p> + “That is quite enough to fill her with a desire to flirt with every man + here,” said Brant to himself, with a faint smile; “but I fancy they have + had a taste enough of her quality.” + </p> + <p> + Nevertheless he sat down and wrote a few lines to the division commander, + pointing out that he had already placed the owner's private property under + strict surveillance, that it was cared for and perfectly preserved by the + household servants, and that the pass was evidently obtained as a + subterfuge. + </p> + <p> + To this he received a formal reply, regretting that the authorities at + Washington still found it necessary to put this kind of risk and burden on + the army in the field, but that the order emanated from the highest + authority, and must be strictly obeyed. At the bottom of the page was a + characteristic line in pencil in the general's own hand—“Not the + kind that is dangerous.” + </p> + <p> + A flush mounted Brant's cheeks, as if it contained not only a hidden, but + a personal significance. He had thought of his own wife! + </p> + <p> + Singularly enough, a day or two later, at dinner, the conversation turned + upon the intense sectional feeling of Southern women, probably induced by + their late experiences. Brant, at the head of the table, in his habitual + abstraction, was scarcely following the somewhat excited diction of + Colonel Strangeways, one of his staff. + </p> + <p> + “No, sir,” reiterated that indignant warrior, “take my word for it! A + Southern woman isn't to be trusted on this point, whether as a sister, + sweetheart, or wife. And when she is trusted, she's bound to get the + better of the man in any of those relations!” + </p> + <p> + The dead silence that followed, the ominous joggle of a glass at the + speaker's elbow, the quick, sympathetic glance that Brant instinctively + felt was directed at his own face, and the abrupt change of subject, could + not but arrest his attention, even if he had overlooked the speech. His + face, however, betrayed nothing. It had never, however, occurred to him + before that his family affairs might be known—neither had he ever + thought of keeping them a secret. It seemed so purely a personal and + private misfortune, that he had never dreamed of its having any public + interest. And even now he was a little ashamed of what he believed was his + sensitiveness to mere conventional criticism, which, with the instinct of + a proud man, he had despised. + </p> + <p> + He was not far wrong in his sardonic intuition of the effect of his + prohibition upon Miss Faulkner's feelings. Certainly that young lady, when + not engaged in her mysterious occupation of arranging her uncle's effects, + occasionally was seen in the garden, and in the woods beyond. Although her + presence was the signal for the “oblique” of any lounging “shoulder + strap,” or the vacant “front” of a posted sentry, she seemed to regard + their occasional proximity with less active disfavor. Once, when she had + mounted the wall to gather a magnolia blossom, the chair by which she had + ascended rolled over, leaving her on the wall. At a signal from the + guard-room, two sappers and miners appeared carrying a scaling-ladder, + which they placed silently against the wall, and as silently withdrew. On + another occasion, the same spirited young lady, whom Brant was satisfied + would have probably imperiled her life under fire in devotion to her + cause, was brought ignominiously to bay in the field by that most + appalling of domestic animals, the wandering and untrammeled cow! Brant + could not help smiling as he heard the quick, harsh call to “Turn out, + guard,” saw the men march stolidly with fixed bayonets to the vicinity of + the affrighted animal, who fled, leaving the fair stranger to walk + shamefacedly to the house. He was surprised, however, that she should have + halted before his door, and with tremulous indignation, said,— + </p> + <p> + “I thank you, sir, for your chivalrousness in turning a defenseless woman + into ridicule.” + </p> + <p> + “I regret, Miss Faulkner,” began Brant gravely, “that you should believe + that I am able to control the advances of farmyard cattle as easily as”—But + he stopped, as he saw that the angry flash of her blue eyes, as she darted + past him, was set in tears. A little remorseful on the following day, he + added a word to his ordinary cap-lifting when she went by, but she + retained a reproachful silence. Later in the day, he received from her + servant a respectful request for an interview, and was relieved to find + that she entered his presence with no trace of her former aggression, but + rather with the resignation of a deeply injured, yet not entirely + unforgiving, woman. + </p> + <p> + “I thought,” she began coldly, “that I ought to inform you that I would + probably be able to conclude my business here by the day after to-morrow, + and that you would then be relieved of my presence. I am aware—indeed,” + she added, bitterly, “I could scarcely help perceiving, that it has been + an exceedingly irksome one.” + </p> + <p> + “I trust,” began Brant coldly, “that no gentleman of my command has”— + </p> + <p> + “No!” + </p> + <p> + She interrupted him quickly, with a return of her former manner, and a + passionate sweep of the hand. + </p> + <p> + “Do you suppose for a moment that I am speaking—that I am even + thinking—of them? What are they to me?” + </p> + <p> + “Thank you. I am glad to know that they are nothing; and that I may now + trust that you have consulted my wishes, and have reserved your animosity + solely for me,” returned Brant quietly. “That being so, I see no reason + for your hurrying your departure in the least.” + </p> + <p> + She rose instantly. + </p> + <p> + “I have,” she said slowly, controlling herself with a slight effort, + “found some one who will take my duty off my hands. She is a servant of + one of your neighbors,—who is an old friend of my uncle's. The woman + is familiar with the house, and our private property. I will give her full + instructions to act for me, and even an authorization in writing, if you + prefer it. She is already in the habit of coming here; but her visits will + give you very little trouble. And, as she is a slave, or, as you call it, + I believe, a chattel, she will be already quite accustomed to the + treatment which her class are in the habit of receiving from Northern + hands.” + </p> + <p> + Without waiting to perceive the effect of her Parthian shot, she swept + proudly out of the room. + </p> + <p> + “I wonder what she means,” mused Brant, as her quick step died away in the + passage. “One thing is certain,—a woman like that is altogether too + impulsive for a spy.” + </p> + <p> + Later, in the twilight, he saw her walking in the garden. There was a + figure at her side. A little curious, he examined it more closely from his + window. It was already familiar to him,—the erect, shapely form of + his neighbor's servant. A thoughtful look passed over his face as he + muttered,—“So this is to be her deputy.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0007" id="link2HCH0007"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER III. + </h2> + <p> + Called to a general council of officers at divisional headquarters the + next day, Brant had little time for further speculation regarding his + strange guest, but a remark from the division commander, that he preferred + to commit the general plan of a movement then under discussion to their + memories rather than to written orders in the ordinary routine, seemed to + show that his chief still suspected the existence of a spy. He, therefore, + told him of his late interview with Miss Faulkner, and her probable + withdrawal in favor of a mulatto neighbor. The division commander received + the information with indifference. + </p> + <p> + “They're much too clever to employ a hussy like that, who shows her hand + at every turn, either as a spy or a messenger of spies,—and the + mulattoes are too stupid, to say nothing of their probable fidelity to us. + No, General, if we are watched, it is by an eagle, and not a mocking-bird. + Miss Faulkner has nothing worse about her than her tongue; and there isn't + the nigger blood in the whole South that would risk a noose for her, or + for any of their masters or mistresses!” + </p> + <p> + It was, therefore, perhaps, with some mitigation of his usual critical + severity that he saw her walking before him alone in the lane as he rode + home to quarters. She was apparently lost in a half-impatient, half-moody + reverie, which even the trotting hoof-beats of his own and his orderly's + horse had not disturbed. From time to time she struck the myrtle hedge + beside her with the head of a large flower which hung by its stalk from + her listless hands, or held it to her face as if to inhale its perfume. + Dismissing his orderly by a side path, he rode gently forward, but, to his + surprise, without turning, or seeming to be aware of his presence, she + quickened her pace, and even appeared to look from side to side for some + avenue of escape. If only to mend matters, he was obliged to ride quickly + forward to her side, where he threw himself from his horse, flung the + reins on his arm, and began to walk beside her. She at first turned a + slightly flushed cheek away from him, and then looked up with a purely + simulated start of surprise. + </p> + <p> + “I am afraid,” he said gently, “that I am the first to break my own orders + in regard to any intrusion on your privacy. But I wanted to ask you if I + could give you any aid whatever in the change you think of making.” + </p> + <p> + He was quite sincere,—had been touched by her manifest disturbance, + and, despite his masculine relentlessness of criticism, he had an + intuition of feminine suffering that was in itself feminine. + </p> + <p> + “Meaning, that you are in a hurry to get rid of me,” she said curtly, + without raising her eyes. + </p> + <p> + “Meaning that I only wish to expedite a business which I think is + unpleasant to you, but which I believe you have undertaken from unselfish + devotion.” + </p> + <p> + The scant expression of a reserved nature is sometimes more attractive to + women than the most fluent vivacity. Possibly there was also a melancholy + grace in this sardonic soldier's manner that affected her, for she looked + up, and said impulsively,— + </p> + <p> + “You think so?” + </p> + <p> + But he met her eager eyes with some surprise. + </p> + <p> + “I certainly do,” he replied more coldly. “I can imagine your feelings on + finding your uncle's home in the possession of your enemies, and your + presence under the family roof only a sufferance. I can hardly believe it + a pleasure to you, or a task you would have accepted for yourself alone.” + </p> + <p> + “But,” she said, turning towards him wickedly, “what if I did it only to + excite my revenge; what if I knew it would give me courage to incite my + people to carry war into your own homes; to make you of the North feel as + I feel, and taste our bitterness?” + </p> + <p> + “I could easily understand that, too,” he returned, with listless + coldness, “although I don't admit that revenge is an unmixed pleasure, + even to a woman.” + </p> + <p> + “A woman!” she repeated indignantly. “There is no sex in a war like this.” + </p> + <p> + “You are spoiling your flower,” he said quietly. “It is very pretty, and a + native one, too; not an invader, or even transplanted. May I look at it?” + </p> + <p> + She hesitated, half recoiling for an instant, and her hand trembled. Then, + suddenly and abruptly she said, with a hysteric little laugh, “Take it, + then,” and almost thrust it in his hand. + </p> + <p> + It certainly was a pretty flower, not unlike a lily in appearance, with a + bell-like cup and long anthers covered with a fine pollen, like red dust. + As he lifted it to his face, to inhale its perfume, she uttered a slight + cry, and snatched it from his hand. + </p> + <p> + “There!” she said, with the same nervous laugh. “I knew you would; I ought + to have warned you. The pollen comes off so easily, and leaves a stain. + And you've got some on your cheek. Look!” she continued, taking her + handkerchief from her pocket and wiping his cheek; “see there!” The + delicate cambric showed a blood-red streak. + </p> + <p> + “It grows in a swamp,” she continued, in the same excited strain; “we call + it dragon's teeth,—like the kind that was sown in the story, you + know. We children used to find it, and then paint our faces and lips with + it. We called it our rouge. I was almost tempted to try it again when I + found it just now. It took me back so to the old times.” + </p> + <p> + Following her odd manner rather than her words, as she turned her face + towards him suddenly, Brant was inclined to think that she had tried it + already, so scarlet was her cheek. But it presently paled again under his + cold scrutiny. + </p> + <p> + “You must miss the old times,” he said calmly. “I am afraid you found very + little of them left, except in these flowers.” + </p> + <p> + “And hardly these,” she said bitterly. “Your troops had found a way + through the marsh, and had trampled down the bushes.” + </p> + <p> + Brant's brow clouded. He remembered that the brook, which had run red + during the fight, had lost itself in this marsh. It did not increase his + liking for this beautiful but blindly vicious animal at his side, and even + his momentary pity for her was fading fast. She was incorrigible. They + walked on for a few moments in silence. + </p> + <p> + “You said,” she began at last, in a gentler and even hesitating voice, + “that your wife was a Southern woman.” + </p> + <p> + He checked an irritated start with difficulty. + </p> + <p> + “I believe I did,” he said coldly, as if he regretted it. + </p> + <p> + “And of course you taught her YOUR gospel,—the gospel according to + St. Lincoln. Oh, I know,” she went on hurriedly, as if conscious of his + irritation and seeking to allay it. “She was a woman and loved you, and + thought with your thoughts and saw only with your eyes. Yes, that's the + way with us,—I suppose we all do it!” she added bitterly. + </p> + <p> + “She had her own opinions,” said Brant briefly, as he recovered himself. + </p> + <p> + Nevertheless, his manner so decidedly closed all further discussion that + there was nothing left for the young girl but silence. But it was broken + by her in a few moments in her old contemptuous voice and manner. + </p> + <p> + “Pray don't trouble yourself to accompany me any further, General Brant. + Unless, of course, you are afraid I may come across some of your—your + soldiers. I promise you I won't eat them.” + </p> + <p> + “I am afraid you must suffer my company a little longer, Miss Faulkner, on + account of those same soldiers,” returned Brant gravely. “You may not know + that this road, in which I find you, takes you through a cordon of + pickets. If you were alone you would be stopped, questioned, and, failing + to give the password, you would be detained, sent to the guard-house, and”—he + stopped, and fixed his eyes on her keenly as he added, “and searched.” + </p> + <p> + “You would not dare to search a woman!” she said indignantly, although her + flush gave way to a slight pallor. + </p> + <p> + “You said just now that there should be no sex in a war like this,” + returned Brant carelessly, but without abating his scrutinizing gaze. + </p> + <p> + “Then it IS war?” she said quickly, with a white, significant face. + </p> + <p> + His look of scrutiny turned to one of puzzled wonder. But at the same + moment there was the flash of a bayonet in the hedge, a voice called + “Halt!” and a soldier stepped into the road. + </p> + <p> + General Brant advanced, met the salute of the picket with a few formal + words, and then turned towards his fair companion, as another soldier and + a sergeant joined the group. + </p> + <p> + “Miss Faulkner is new to the camp, took the wrong turning, and was + unwittingly leaving the lines when I joined her.” He fixed his eyes + intently on her now colorless face, but she did not return his look. “You + will show her the shortest way to quarters,” he continued, to the + sergeant, “and should she at any time again lose her way, you will again + conduct her home,—but without detaining or reporting her.” + </p> + <p> + He lifted his cap, remounted his horse, and rode away, as the young girl, + with a proud, indifferent step, moved down the road with the sergeant. A + mounted officer passed him and saluted,—it was one of his own staff. + From some strange instinct, he knew that he had witnessed the scene, and + from some equally strange intuition he was annoyed by it. But he continued + his way, visiting one or two outposts, and returned by a long detour to + his quarters. As he stepped upon the veranda he saw Miss Faulkner at the + bottom of the garden talking with some one across the hedge. By the aid of + his glass he could recognize the shapely figure of the mulatto woman which + he had seen before. But by its aid he also discovered that she was + carrying a flower exactly like the one which Miss Faulkner still held in + her hand. Had she been with Miss Faulkner in the lane, and if so, why had + she disappeared when he came up? Impelled by something stronger than mere + curiosity, he walked quickly down the garden, but she evidently had + noticed him, for she as quickly disappeared. Not caring to meet Miss + Faulkner again, he retraced his steps, resolving that he would, on the + first opportunity, personally examine and interrogate this new visitor. + For if she were to take Miss Faulkner's place in a subordinate capacity, + this precaution was clearly within his rights. + </p> + <p> + He re-entered his room and seated himself at his desk before the + dispatches, orders, and reports awaiting him. He found himself, however, + working half mechanically, and recurring to his late interview with Miss + Faulkner in the lane. If she had any inclination to act the spy, or to use + her position here as a means of communicating with the enemy's lines, he + thought he had thoroughly frightened her. Nevertheless, now, for the first + time, he was inclined to accept his chief's opinion of her. She was not + only too clumsy and inexperienced, but she totally lacked the + self-restraint of a spy. Her nervous agitation in the lane was due to + something more disturbing than his mere possible intrusion upon her + confidences with the mulatto. The significance of her question, “Then it + IS war?” was at best a threat, and that implied hesitation. He recalled + her strange allusion to his wife; was it merely the outcome of his own + foolish confession on their first interview, or was it a concealed + ironical taunt? Being satisfied, however, that she was not likely to + imperil his public duty in any way, he was angry with himself for + speculating further. But, although he still felt towards her the same + antagonism she had at first provoked, he was conscious that she was + beginning to exercise a strange fascination over him. + </p> + <p> + Dismissing her at last with an effort, he finished his work and then rose, + and unlocking a closet, took out a small dispatch-box, to which he + intended to intrust a few more important orders and memoranda. As he + opened it with a key on his watch-chain, he was struck with a faint + perfume that seemed to come from it,—a perfume that he remembered. + Was it the smell of the flower that Miss Faulkner carried, or the scent of + the handkerchief with which she had wiped his cheek, or a mingling of + both? Or was he under some spell to think of that wretched girl, and her + witch-like flower? He leaned over the box and suddenly started. Upon the + outer covering of a dispatch was a singular blood-red streak! He examined + it closely,—it was the powdery stain of the lily pollen,—exactly + as he had seen it on her handkerchief. + </p> + <p> + There could be no mistake. He passed his finger over the stain; he could + still feel the slippery, infinitesimal powder of the pollen. It was not + there when he had closed the box that morning; it was impossible that it + should be there unless the box had been opened in his absence. He + re-examined the contents of the box; the papers were all there. More than + that, they were papers of no importance except to him personally; + contained no plans nor key to any military secret; he had been far too + wise to intrust any to the accidents of this alien house. The prying + intruder, whoever it was, had gained nothing! But there was unmistakably + the attempt! And the existence of a would-be spy within the purlieus of + the house was equally clear. + </p> + <p> + He called an officer from the next room. + </p> + <p> + “Has any one been here since my absence?” + </p> + <p> + “No, General.” + </p> + <p> + “Has any one passed through the hall?” + </p> + <p> + He had fully anticipated the answer, as the subaltern replied, “Only the + women servants.” + </p> + <p> + He re-entered the room. Closing the door, he again carefully examined the + box, his table, the papers upon it, the chair before it, and even the + Chinese matting on the floor, for any further indication of the pollen. It + hardly seemed possible that any one could have entered the room with the + flower in their hand without scattering some of the tell-tale dust + elsewhere; it was too large a flower to be worn on the breast or in the + hair. Again, no one would have dared to linger there long enough to have + made an examination of the box, with an officer in the next room, and the + sergeant passing. The box had been removed, and the examination made + elsewhere! + </p> + <p> + An idea seized him. Miss Faulkner was still absent, the mulatto had + apparently gone home. He quickly mounted the staircase, but instead of + entering his room, turned suddenly aside into the wing which had been + reserved. The first door yielded as he turned its knob gently and entered + a room which he at once recognized as the “young lady's boudoir.” But the + dusty and draped furniture had been rearranged and uncovered, and the + apartment bore every sign of present use. Yet, although there was + unmistakable evidence of its being used by a person of taste and + refinement, he was surprised to see that the garments hanging in an open + press were such as were used by negro servants, and that a gaudy + handkerchief such as housemaids used for turbans was lying on the pretty + silk coverlet. He did not linger over these details, but cast a rapid + glance round the room. Then his eyes became fixed on a fanciful + writing-desk, which stood by the window. For, in a handsome vase placed on + its level top, and drooping on a portfolio below, hung a cluster of the + very flowers that Miss Faulkner had carried! + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0008" id="link2HCH0008"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER IV. + </h2> + <p> + It seemed plain to Brant that the dispatch-box had been conveyed here and + opened for security on this desk, and in the hurry of examining the papers + the flower had been jostled and the fallen grains of pollen overlooked by + the spy. There were one or two freckles of red on the desk, which made + this accident appear the more probable. But he was equally struck by + another circumstance. The desk stood immediately before the window. As he + glanced mechanically from it, he was surprised to see that it commanded an + extensive view of the slope below the eminence on which the house stood, + even beyond his furthest line of pickets. The vase of flowers, each of + which was nearly as large as a magnolia blossom, and striking in color, + occupied a central position before it, and no doubt could be quite + distinctly seen from a distance. From this circumstance he could not + resist the strong impression that this fateful and extraordinary blossom, + carried by Miss Faulkner and the mulatto, and so strikingly “in evidence” + at the window, was in some way a signal. Obeying an impulse which he was + conscious had a half superstitious foundation, he carefully lifted the + vase from its position before the window, and placed it on a side table. + Then he cautiously slipped from the room. + </p> + <p> + But he could not easily shake off the perplexity which the occurrence had + caused, although he was satisfied that it was fraught with no military or + strategic danger to his command, and that the unknown spy had obtained no + information whatever. Yet he was forced to admit to himself that he was + more concerned in his attempts to justify the conduct of Miss Faulkner + with this later revelation. It was quite possible that the dispatch-box + had been purloined by some one else during her absence from the house, as + the presence of the mulatto servant in his room would have been less + suspicious than hers. There was really little evidence to connect Miss + Faulkner with the actual outrage,—rather might not the real spy have + taken advantage of her visit here, to throw suspicion upon her? He + remembered her singular manner,—the strange inconsistency with which + she had forced this flower upon him. She would hardly have done so had she + been conscious of its having so serious an import. Yet, what was the + secret of her manifest agitation? A sudden inspiration flashed across his + mind; a smile came upon his lips. She was in love! The enemy's line + contained some sighing Strephon of a young subaltern with whom she was in + communication, and for whom she had undertaken this quest. The flower was + their language of correspondence, no doubt. It explained also the young + girl's animosity against the younger officers,—his adversaries; + against himself,—their commander. He had previously wondered why, if + she were indeed a spy, she had not chosen, upon some equally specious + order from Washington, the headquarters of the division commander, whose + secrets were more valuable. This was explained by the fact that she was + nearer the lines and her lover in her present abode. He had no idea that + he was making excuses for her,—he believed himself only just. The + recollection of what she had said of the power of love, albeit it had hurt + him cruelly at the time, was now clearer to him, and even seemed to + mitigate her offense. She would be here but a day or two longer; he could + afford to wait without interrogating her. + </p> + <p> + But as to the real intruder, spy or thief,—that was another affair, + and quickly settled. He gave an order to the officer of the day + peremptorily forbidding the entrance of alien servants or slaves within + the precincts of the headquarters. Any one thus trespassing was to be + brought before him. The officer looked surprised, he even fancied + disappointed. The graces of the mulatto woman's figure had evidently not + been thrown away upon his subalterns. + </p> + <p> + An hour or two later, when he was mounting his horse for a round of + inspection, he was surprised to see Miss Faulkner, accompanied by the + mulatto woman, running hurriedly to the house. He had forgotten his late + order until he saw the latter halted by the sentries, but the young girl + came flying on, regardless of her companion. Her skirt was held in one + hand, her straw hat had fallen back in her flight, and was caught only by + a ribbon around her swelling throat, and her loosened hair lay in a black + rippled loop on one shoulder. For an instant Brant thought that she was + seeking him in indignation at his order, but a second look at her set + face, eager eyes, and parted scarlet lips, showed him that she had not + even noticed him in the concentration of her purpose. She swept by him + into the hall, he heard the swish of her skirt and rapid feet on the + stairs,—she was gone. What had happened, or was this another of her + moods? + </p> + <p> + But he was called to himself by the apparition of a corporal standing + before him, with the mulatto woman,—the first capture under his + order. She was tall, well-formed, but unmistakably showing the negro type, + even in her small features. Her black eyes were excited, but + unintelligent; her manner dogged, but with the obstinacy of half-conscious + stupidity. Brant felt not only disappointed, but had a singular impression + that she was not the same woman that he had first seen. Yet there was the + tall, graceful figure, the dark profile, and the turbaned head that he had + once followed down the passage by his room. + </p> + <p> + Her story was as stupidly simple. She had known “Missy” from a chile! She + had just traipsed over to see her that afternoon; they were walking + together when the sojers stopped her. She had never been stopped before, + even by “the patter rollers.” * Her old massa (Manly) had gib leaf to go + see Miss Tilly, and hadn't said nuffin about no “orders.” + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + * i. e., patrols,—a civic home-guard in the South that kept + surveillance of slaves. +</pre> + <p> + More annoyed than he cared to confess, Brant briefly dismissed her with a + warning. As he cantered down the slope the view of the distant pickets + recalled the window in the wing, and he turned in his saddle to look at + it. There it was—the largest and most dominant window in that part + of the building—and within it, a distinct and vivid object almost + filling the opening, was the vase of flowers, which he had a few hours ago + removed, RESTORED TO ITS ORIGINAL POSITION! He smiled. The hurried + entrance and consternation of Miss Faulkner were now fully explained. He + had interrupted some impassioned message, perhaps even countermanded some + affectionate rendezvous beyond the lines. And it seemed to settle the fact + that it was she who had done the signaling! But would not this also make + her cognizant of the taking of the dispatch-box? He reflected, however, + that the room was apparently occupied by the mulatto woman—he + remembered the calico dresses and turban on the bed—and it was + possible that Miss Faulkner had only visited it for the purpose of + signaling to her lover. Although this circumstance did not tend to make + his mind easier, it was, however, presently diverted by a new arrival and + a strange recognition. + </p> + <p> + As he rode through the camp a group of officers congregated before a large + mess tent appeared to be highly amused by the conversation—half + monologue and half harangue of a singular-looking individual who stood in + the centre. He wore a “slouch” hat, to the band of which he had imparted a + military air by the addition of a gold cord, but the brim was caught up at + the side in a peculiarly theatrical and highly artificial fashion. A heavy + cavalry sabre depended from a broad-buckled belt under his black frock + coat, with the addition of two revolvers—minus their holsters—stuck + on either side of the buckle, after the style of a stage smuggler. A pair + of long enameled leather riding boots, with the tops turned deeply over, + as if they had once done duty for the representative of a cavalier, + completed his extraordinary equipment. The group were so absorbed in him + that they did not perceive the approach of their chief and his orderly; + and Brant, with a sign to the latter, halted only a few paces from this + central figure. His speech was a singular mingling of high-flown and + exalted epithets, with inexact pronunciation and occasional lapses of + Western slang. + </p> + <p> + “Well, I ain't purtendin' to any stratutegical smartness, and I didn't + gradooate at West Point as one of those Apocryphal Engineers; I don't do + much talking about 'flank' movements or 'recognizances in force' or + 'Ekellon skirmishing,' but when it comes down to square Ingin fightin', I + reckon I kin have my say. There are men who don't know the Army + Contractor,” he added darkly, “who mebbe have heard of 'Red Jim.' I don't + mention names, gentlemen, but only the other day a man that you all know + says to me, 'If I only knew what you do about scoutin' I wouldn't be + wanting for information as I do.' I ain't goin' to say who it was, or + break any confidences between gentlemen by saying how many stars he had on + his shoulder strap; but he was a man who knew what he was saying. And I + say agin, gentlemen, that the curse of the Northern Army is the want of + proper scoutin'. What was it caused Bull's Run?—Want o' scoutin'. + What was it rolled up Pope?—Want o' scoutin'. What caused the + slaughter at the Wilderness?—Want o' scoutin'—Ingin scoutin'! + Why, only the other day, gentlemen, I was approached to know what I'd take + to organize a scoutin' force. And what did I say?—'No, General; it + ain't because I represent one of the largest Army Beef Contracts in this + country,' says I. 'It ain't because I belong, so to speak, to the “Sinews + of War;” but because I'd want about ten thousand trained Ingins from the + Reservations!' And the regular West Point, high-toned, scientific inkybus + that weighs so heavily on our army don't see it—and won't have it! + Then Sherman, he sez to me”— + </p> + <p> + But here a roar of laughter interrupted him, and in the cross fire of + sarcastic interrogations that began Brant saw, with relief, a chance of + escape. For in the voice, manner, and, above all, the characteristic + temperament of the stranger, he had recognized his old playmate and the + husband of Susy,—the redoubtable Jim Hooker! There was no mistaking + that gloomy audacity; that mysterious significance; that magnificent + lying. But even at that moment Clarence Brant's heart had gone out, with + all his old loyalty of feeling, towards his old companion. He knew that a + public recognition of him then and there would plunge Hooker into + confusion; he felt keenly the ironical plaudits and laughter of his + officers over the manifest weakness and vanity of the ex-teamster, + ex-rancher, ex-actor, and husband of his old girl sweetheart, and would + have spared him the knowledge that he had overheard it. Turning hastily to + the orderly, he bade him bring the stranger to his headquarters, and rode + away unperceived. + </p> + <p> + He had heard enough, however, to account for his presence there, and the + singular chance that had brought them again together. He was evidently one + of those large civil contractors of supplies whom the Government was + obliged to employ, who visited the camp half officially, and whom the army + alternately depended upon and abused. Brant had dealt with his underlings + in the Commissariat, and even now remembered that he had heard he was + coming, but had overlooked the significance of his name. But how he came + to leave his theatrical profession, how he had attained a position which + implied a command of considerable capital—for many of the + contractors had already amassed large fortunes—and what had become + of Susy and her ambitions in this radical change of circumstances, were + things still to be learned. In his own changed conditions he had seldom + thought of her; it was with a strange feeling of irritation and half + responsibility that he now recalled their last interview and the emotion + to which he had yielded. + </p> + <p> + He had not long to wait. He had scarcely regained the quarters at his own + private office before he heard the step of the orderly upon the veranda + and the trailing clank of Hooker's sabre. He did not know, however, that + Hooker, without recognizing his name, had received the message as a + personal tribute, and had left his sarcastic companions triumphantly, with + the air of going to a confidential interview, to which his well-known + military criticism had entitled him. It was with a bearing of gloomy + importance and his characteristic, sullen, sidelong glance that he entered + the apartment and did not look up until Brant had signaled the orderly to + withdraw, and closed the door behind him. And then he recognized his old + boyish companion—the preferred favorite of fortune! + </p> + <p> + For a moment he gasped with astonishment. For a moment gloomy incredulity, + suspicion, delight, pride, admiration, even affection, struggled for + mastery in his sullen, staring eyes and open, twitching mouth. For here + was Clarence Brant, handsomer than ever, more superior than ever, in the + majesty of uniform and authority which fitted him—the younger man—by + reason of his four years of active service, with the careless ease and + bearing of the veteran! Here was the hero whose name was already so famous + that the mere coincidence of it with that of the modest civilian he had + known would have struck him as preposterous. Yet here he was—supreme, + and dazzling—surrounded by the pomp and circumstance of war—into + whose reserved presence he, Jim Hooker, had been ushered with the + formality of challenge, saluting, and presented bayonets! + </p> + <p> + Luckily, Brant had taken advantage of his first gratified ejaculation to + shake him warmly by the hand, and then, with both hands laid familiarly on + his shoulder, force him down into a chair. Luckily, for by that time Jim + Hooker had, with characteristic gloominess, found time to taste the pangs + of envy—an envy the more keen since, in spite of his success as a + peaceful contractor, he had always secretly longed for military display + and distinction. He looked at the man who had achieved it, as he firmly + believed, by sheer luck and accident, and his eyes darkened. Then, with + characteristic weakness and vanity, he began to resist his first + impressions of Clarence's superiority, and to air his own importance. He + leaned heavily back in the chair in which he had been thus genially + forced, drew off his gauntlet and attempted to thrust it through his belt, + as he had seen Brant do, but failed on account of his pistols already + occupying that position, dropped it, got his sword between his legs in + attempting to pick it up, and then leaned back again, with half-closed + eyes serenely indifferent of his old companion's smiling face. + </p> + <p> + “I reckon,” he began slowly, with a slightly patronizing air, “that we'd + have met, sooner or later, at Washington, or at Grant's headquarters, for + Hooker, Meacham & Co. go everywhere, and are about as well known as + major-generals, to say nothin',” he went on, with a sidelong glance at + Brant's shoulder-straps, “of brigadiers; and it's rather strange—only, + of course, you're kind of fresh in the service—that you ain't heard + of me afore.” + </p> + <p> + “But I'm very glad to hear of you now, Jim,” said Brant, smiling, “and + from your own lips—which I am also delighted to find,” he added + mischievously, “are still as frankly communicative on that topic as of + old. But I congratulate you, old fellow, on your good fortune. When did + you leave the stage?” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Hooker frowned slightly. + </p> + <p> + “I never was really on the stage, you know,” he said, waving his hand with + assumed negligence. “Only went on to please my wife. Mrs. Hooker wouldn't + act with vulgar professionals, don't you see! I was really manager most of + the time, and lessee of the theatre. Went East when the war broke out, to + offer my sword and knowledge of Ingin fightin' to Uncle Sam! Drifted into + a big pork contract at St. Louis, with Fremont. Been at it ever since. + Offered a commission in the reg'lar service lots o' times. Refused.” + </p> + <p> + “Why?” asked Brant demurely. + </p> + <p> + “Too much West Point starch around to suit ME,” returned Hooker darkly. + “And too many spies!” + </p> + <p> + “Spies?” echoed Brant abstractedly, with a momentary reminiscence of Miss + Faulkner. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, spies,” continued Hooker, with dogged mystery. “One half of + Washington is watching t'other half, and, from the President's wife down, + most of the women are secesh!” + </p> + <p> + Brant suddenly fixed his keen eyes on his guest. But the next moment he + reflected that this was only Jim Hooker's usual speech, and possessed no + ulterior significance. He smiled again, and said, more gently,— + </p> + <p> + “And how is Mrs. Hooker?” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Hooker fixed his eyes on the ceiling, rose, and pretended to look out + of the window; then, taking his seat again by the table, as if fronting an + imaginary audience, and pulling slowly at his gauntlets after the usual + theatrical indication of perfect sangfroid, said,— + </p> + <p> + “There ain't any!” + </p> + <p> + “Good heavens!” said Brant, with genuine emotion. “I beg your pardon. + Really, I”— + </p> + <p> + “Mrs. Hooker and me are divorced,” continued Hooker, slightly changing his + attitude, and leaning heavily on his sabre, with his eyes still on his + fanciful audience. “There was, you understand”—lightly tossing his + gauntlet aside—“incompatibility of temper—and—we—parted! + Ha!” + </p> + <p> + He uttered a low, bitter, scornful laugh, which, however, produced the + distinct impression in Brant's mind that up to that moment he had never + had the slightest feeling in the matter whatever. + </p> + <p> + “You seemed to be on such good terms with each other!” murmured Brant + vaguely. + </p> + <p> + “Seemed!” said Hooker bitterly, glancing sardonically at an ideal second + row in the pit before him, “yes—seemed! There were other + differences, social and political. You understand that; you have suffered, + too.” He reached out his hand and pressed Brant's, in heavy effusiveness. + “But,” he continued haughtily, lightly tossing his glove again, “we are + also men of the world; we let that pass.” + </p> + <p> + And it was possible that he found the strain of his present attitude too + great, for he changed to an easier position. + </p> + <p> + “But,” said Brant curiously, “I always thought that Mrs. Hooker was + intensely Union and Northern?” + </p> + <p> + “Put on!” said Hooker, in his natural voice. + </p> + <p> + “But you remember the incident of the flag?” persisted Brant. + </p> + <p> + “Mrs. Hooker was always an actress,” said Hooker significantly. “But,” he + added cheerfully, “Mrs. Hooker is now the wife of Senator Boompointer, one + of the wealthiest and most powerful Republicans in Washington—carries + the patronage of the whole West in his vest pocket.” + </p> + <p> + “Yet, if she is not a Republican, why did she”—began Brant. + </p> + <p> + “For a purpose,” replied Hooker darkly. “But,” he added again, with + greater cheerfulness, “she belongs to the very elite of Washington + society. Goes to all the foreign ambassadors' balls, and is a power at the + White House. Her picture is in all the first-class illustrated papers.” + </p> + <p> + The singular but unmistakable pride of the man in the importance of the + wife from whom he was divorced, and for whom he did not care, would have + offended Brant's delicacy, or at least have excited his ridicule, but for + the reason that he was more deeply stung by Hooker's allusion to his own + wife and his degrading similitude of their two conditions. But he + dismissed the former as part of Hooker's invincible and still boyish + extravagance, and the latter as part of his equally characteristic + assumption. Perhaps he was conscious, too, notwithstanding the lapse of + years and the condonation of separation and forgetfulness, that he + deserved little delicacy from the hands of Susy's husband. Nevertheless, + he dreaded to hear him speak again of her; and the fear was realized in a + question. + </p> + <p> + “Does she know you are here?” + </p> + <p> + “Who?” said Brant curtly. + </p> + <p> + “Your wife. That is—I reckon she's your wife still, eh?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes; but I do not know what she knows,” returned Brant quietly. He had + regained his self-composure. + </p> + <p> + “Susy,—Mrs. Senator Boompointer, that is,”—said Hooker, with + an apparent dignity in his late wife's new title, “allowed that she'd gone + abroad on a secret mission from the Southern Confederacy to them crowned + heads over there. She was good at ropin' men in, you know. Anyhow, Susy, + afore she was Mrs. Boompointer, was dead set on findin' out where she was, + but never could. She seemed to drop out of sight a year ago. Some said one + thing, and some said another. But you can bet your bottom dollar that Mrs. + Senator Boompointer, who knows how to pull all the wires in Washington, + will know, if any one does.” + </p> + <p> + “But is Mrs. Boompointer really disaffected, and a Southern sympathizer?” + said Brant, “or is it only caprice or fashion?” + </p> + <p> + While speaking he had risen, with a half-abstracted face, and had gone to + the window, where he stood in a listening attitude. Presently he opened + the window, and stepped outside. Hooker wonderingly followed him. One or + two officers had already stepped out of their rooms, and were standing + upon the veranda; another had halted in the path. Then one quickly + re-entered the house, reappeared with his cap and sword in his hand, and + ran lightly toward the guard-house. A slight crackling noise seemed to + come from beyond the garden wall. + </p> + <p> + “What's up?” said Hooker, with staring eyes. + </p> + <p> + “Picket firing!” + </p> + <p> + The crackling suddenly became a long rattle. Brant re-entered the room, + and picked up his hat. + </p> + <p> + “You'll excuse me for a few moments.” + </p> + <p> + A faint sound, soft yet full, and not unlike a bursting bubble, made the + house appear to leap elastically, like the rebound of a rubber ball. + </p> + <p> + “What's that?” gasped Hooker. + </p> + <p> + “Cannon, out of range!” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0009" id="link2HCH0009"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER V. + </h2> + <p> + In another instant bugles were ringing through the camp, with the hurrying + hoofs of mounted officers and the trampling of forming men. The house + itself was almost deserted. Although the single cannon-shot had been + enough to show that it was no mere skirmishing of pickets, Brant still did + not believe in any serious attack of the enemy. His position, as in the + previous engagement, had no strategic importance to them; they were no + doubt only making a feint against it to conceal some advance upon the + centre of the army two miles away. Satisfied that he was in easy + supporting distance of his division commander, he extended his line along + the ridge, ready to fall back in that direction, while retarding their + advance and masking the position of his own chief. He gave a few orders + necessary to the probable abandonment of the house, and then returned to + it. Shot and shell were already dropping in the field below. A thin ridge + of blue haze showed the line of skirmish fire. A small conical, white + cloud, like a bursting cotton-pod, revealed an open battery in the + willow-fringed meadow. Yet the pastoral peacefulness of the house was + unchanged. The afternoon sun lay softly on its deep verandas; the pot + pourri incense of fallen rose-leaves haunted it still. + </p> + <p> + He entered his room through the French window on the veranda, when the + door leading from the passage was suddenly flung open, and Miss Faulkner + swept quickly inside, closed the door behind her, and leaned back against + it, panting and breathless. + </p> + <p> + Clarence was startled, and for a moment ashamed. He had suddenly realized + that in the excitement he had entirely forgotten her and the dangers to + which she might be exposed. She had probably heard the firing, her womanly + fears had been awakened; she had come to him for protection. But as he + turned towards her with a reassuring smile, he was shocked to see that her + agitation and pallor were far beyond any physical cause. She motioned him + desperately to shut the window by which he had entered, and said, with + white lips,— + </p> + <p> + “I must speak with you alone!” + </p> + <p> + “Certainly. But there is no immediate danger to you even here—and I + can soon put you beyond the reach of any possible harm.” + </p> + <p> + “Harm—to me! God! if it were only that!” + </p> + <p> + He stared at her uneasily. + </p> + <p> + “Listen,” she said gaspingly, “listen to me! Then hate, despise me—kill + me if you will. For you are betrayed and ruined—cut off and + surrounded! It has been helped on by me, but I swear to you the blow did + not come from MY hand. I would have saved you. God only knows how it + happened—it was Fate!” + </p> + <p> + In an instant Brant saw the whole truth instinctively and clearly. But + with the revelation came the usual calmness and perfect self-possession + which never yet had failed him in any emergency. With the sound of the + increasing cannonade and its shifting position made clearer to his ears, + the view of his whole threatened position spread out like a map before his + eyes, the swift calculation of the time his men could hold the ridge in + his mind—even a hurried estimate of the precious moments he could + give to the wretched woman before him—he even then, gravely and + gently, led her to a chair and said in a calm voice,— + </p> + <p> + “That is not enough! Speak slowly, plainly. I must know everything. How + and in what way have you betrayed me?” + </p> + <p> + She looked at him imploringly—reassured, yet awed by his gentleness. + </p> + <p> + “You won't believe me; you cannot believe me! for I do not even know. I + have taken and exchanged letters—whose contents I never saw—between + the Confederates and a spy who comes to this house, but who is far away by + this time. I did it because I thought you hated and despised me because I + thought it was my duty to help my cause—because you said it was + 'war' between us—but I never spied on you. I swear it.” + </p> + <p> + “Then how do you know of this attack?” he said calmly. + </p> + <p> + She brightened, half timidly, half hopefully. + </p> + <p> + “There is a window in the wing of this house that overlooks the slope near + the Confederate lines. There was a signal placed in it—not by me—but + I know it meant that as long as it was there the plot, whatever it was, + was not ripe, and that no attack would be made on you as long as it was + visible. That much I know,—that much the spy had to tell me, for we + both had to guard that room in turns. I wanted to keep this dreadful thing + off—until”—her voice trembled, “until,” she added hurriedly, + seeing his calm eyes were reading her very soul, “until I went away—and + for that purpose I withheld some of the letters that were given me. But + this morning, while I was away from the house, I looked back and saw that + the signal was no longer there. Some one had changed it. I ran back, but I + was too late—God help me!—as you see.” + </p> + <p> + The truth flashed upon Brant. It was his own hand that had precipitated + the attack. But a larger truth came to him now, like a dazzling + inspiration. If he had thus precipitated the attack before they were + ready, there was a chance that it was imperfect, and there was still hope. + But there was no trace of this visible in his face as he fixed his eyes + calmly on hers, although his pulses were halting in expectancy as he said— + </p> + <p> + “Then the spy had suspected you, and changed it.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, no,” she said eagerly, “for the spy was with me and was frightened + too. We both ran back together—you remember—she was stopped by + the patrol!” + </p> + <p> + She checked herself suddenly, but too late. Her cheeks blazed, her head + sank, with the foolish identification of the spy into which her eagerness + had betrayed her. + </p> + <p> + But Brant appeared not to notice it. He was, in fact, puzzling his brain + to conceive what information the stupid mulatto woman could have obtained + here. His strength, his position was no secret to the enemy—there + was nothing to gain from him. She must have been, like the trembling, + eager woman before him, a mere tool of others. + </p> + <p> + “Did this woman live here?” he said. + </p> + <p> + “No,” she said. “She lived with the Manlys, but had friends whom she + visited at your general's headquarters.” + </p> + <p> + With difficulty Brant suppressed a start. It was clear to him now. The + information had been obtained at the division headquarters, and passed + through his camp as being nearest the Confederate lines. But what was the + information—and what movement had he precipitated? It was clear that + this woman did not know. He looked at her keenly. A sudden explosion shook + the house,—a drift of smoke passed the window,—a shell had + burst in the garden. + </p> + <p> + She had been gazing at him despairingly, wistfully—but did not + blanch or start. + </p> + <p> + An idea took possession of him. He approached her, and took her cold hand. + A half-smile parted her pale lips. + </p> + <p> + “You have courage—you have devotion,” he said gravely. “I believe + you regret the step you have taken. If you could undo what you have done, + even at peril to yourself, dare you do it?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” she said breathlessly. + </p> + <p> + “You are known to the enemy. If I am surrounded, you could pass through + their lines unquestioned?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” she said eagerly. + </p> + <p> + “A note from me would pass you again through the pickets of our + headquarters. But you would bear a note to the general that no eyes but + his must see. It would not implicate you or yours; would only be a word of + warning.” + </p> + <p> + “And you,” she said quickly, “would be saved! They would come to your + assistance! You would not then be taken?” + </p> + <p> + He smiled gently. + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps—who knows!” + </p> + <p> + He sat down and wrote hurriedly. + </p> + <p> + “This,” he said, handing her a slip of paper, “is a pass. You will use it + beyond your own lines. This note,” he continued, handing her a sealed + envelope, “is for the general. No one else must see it or know of it—not + even your lover, should you meet him!” + </p> + <p> + “My lover!” she said indignantly, with a flash of her old savagery; “what + do you mean? I have no lover!” + </p> + <p> + Brant glanced at her flushed face. + </p> + <p> + “I thought,” he said quietly, “that there was some one you cared for in + yonder lines—some one you wrote to. It would have been an excuse”— + </p> + <p> + He stopped, as her face paled again, and her hands dropped heavily at her + side. + </p> + <p> + “Good God!—you thought that, too! You thought that I would sacrifice + you for another man!” + </p> + <p> + “Pardon me,” said Brant quickly. “I was foolish. But whether your lover is + a man or a cause, you have shown a woman's devotion. And, in repairing + your fault, you are showing more than a woman's courage now.” + </p> + <p> + To his surprise, the color had again mounted her pretty cheeks, and even a + flash of mischief shone in her blue eyes. + </p> + <p> + “It would have been an excuse,” she murmured, “yes—to save a man, + surely!” Then she said quickly, “I will go. At once! I am ready!” + </p> + <p> + “One moment,” he said gravely. “Although this pass and an escort insure + your probable safe conduct, this is 'war' and danger! You are still a spy! + Are you ready to go?” + </p> + <p> + “I am,” she said proudly, tossing back a braid of her fallen hair. Yet a + moment after she hesitated. Then she said, in a lower voice, “Are you + ready to forgive?” + </p> + <p> + “In either case,” he said, touched by her manner; “and God speed you!” + </p> + <p> + He extended his hand, and left a slight pressure on her cold fingers. But + they slipped quickly from his grasp, and she turned away with a heightened + color. + </p> + <p> + He stepped to the door. One or two aides-de-camp, withheld by his order + against intrusion, were waiting eagerly with reports. The horse of a + mounted field officer was pawing the garden turf. The officers stared at + the young girl. + </p> + <p> + “Take Miss Faulkner, with a flag, to some safe point of the enemy's line. + She is a non-combatant of their own, and will receive their protection.” + </p> + <p> + He had scarcely exchanged a dozen words with the aides-de-camp before the + field officer hurriedly entered. Taking Brant aside, he said quickly,— + </p> + <p> + “Pardon me, General; but there is a strong feeling among the men that this + attack is the result of some information obtained by the enemy. You must + know that the woman you have just given a safeguard to is suspected, and + the men are indignant.” + </p> + <p> + “The more reason why she should be conveyed beyond any consequences of + their folly, Major,” said Brant frigidly, “and I look to you for her safe + convoy. There is nothing in this attack to show that the enemy has + received any information regarding us. But I would suggest that it would + be better to see that my orders are carried out regarding the slaves and + non-combatants who are passing our lines from divisional headquarters, + where valuable information may be obtained, than in the surveillance of a + testy and outspoken girl.” + </p> + <p> + An angry flush crossed the major's cheek as he saluted and fell back, and + Brant turned to the aide-de-camp. The news was grave. The column of the + enemy was moving against the ridge—it was no longer possible to hold + it—and the brigade was cut off from its communication with the + divisional headquarters, although as yet no combined movement was made + against it. Brant's secret fears that it was an intended impact against + the centre were confirmed. Would his communication to the divisional + commander pass through the attacking column in time? + </p> + <p> + Yet one thing puzzled him. The enemy, after forcing his flank, had shown + no disposition, even with their overwhelming force, to turn aside and + crush him. He could easily have fallen back, when it was possible to hold + the ridge no longer, without pursuit. His other flank and rear were not + threatened, as they might have been, by the division of so large an + attacking column, which was moving steadily on towards the ridge. It was + this fact that seemed to show a failure or imperfection in the enemy's + plan. It was possible that his precipitation of the attack by the changed + signal had been the cause of it. Doubtless some provision had been made to + attack him in flank and rear, but in the unexpected hurry of the onset it + had to be abandoned. He could still save himself, as his officers knew; + but his conviction that he might yet be able to support his divisional + commander by holding his position doggedly, but coolly awaiting his + opportunity, was strong. More than that, it was his temperament and + instinct. + </p> + <p> + Harrying them in flank and rear, contesting the ground inch by inch, and + holding his own against the artillery sent to dislodge him, or the + outriding cavalry that, circling round, swept through his open ranks, he + saw his files melt away beside this steady current without flinching. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0010" id="link2HCH0010"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER VI. + </h2> + <p> + Yet all along the fateful ridge—now obscured and confused with thin + crossing smoke-drifts from file-firing, like partly rubbed-out + slate-pencil marks; or else, when cleared of those drifts, presenting only + an indistinguishable map of zigzag lines of straggling wagons and horses, + unintelligible to any eye but his—the singular magnetism of the + chief was felt everywhere: whether it was shown in the quick closing in of + resistance to some sharper onset of the enemy or the more dogged stand of + inaction under fire, his power was always dominant. A word or two of + comprehensive direction sent through an aide-de-camp, or the sudden relief + of his dark, watchful, composed face uplifted above a line of bayonets, + never failed in their magic. Like all born leaders, he seemed in these + emergencies to hold a charmed life—infecting his followers with a + like disbelief in death; men dropped to right and left of him with serene + assurance in their ghastly faces or a cry of life and confidence in their + last gasp. Stragglers fell in and closed up under his passing glance; a + hopeless, inextricable wrangle around an overturned caisson, at a turn of + the road, resolved itself into an orderly, quiet, deliberate clearing away + of the impediment before the significant waiting of that dark, silent + horseman. + </p> + <p> + Yet under this imperturbable mask he was keenly conscious of everything; + in that apparent concentration there was a sharpening of all his senses + and his impressibility: he saw the first trace of doubt or alarm in the + face of a subaltern to whom he was giving an order; the first touch of + sluggishness in a re-forming line; the more significant clumsiness of a + living evolution that he knew was clogged by the dead bodies of comrades; + the ominous silence of a breastwork; the awful inertia of some rigidly + kneeling files beyond, which still kept their form but never would move + again; the melting away of skirmish points; the sudden gaps here and + there; the sickening incurving of what a moment before had been a straight + line—all these he saw in all their fatal significance. But even at + this moment, coming upon a hasty barricade of overset commissary wagons, + he stopped to glance at a familiar figure he had seen but an hour ago, who + now seemed to be commanding a group of collected stragglers and camp + followers. Mounted on a wheel, with a revolver in each hand and a bowie + knife between his teeth—theatrical even in his paroxysm of undoubted + courage—glared Jim Hooker. And Clarence Brant, with the whole + responsibility of the field on his shoulders, even at that desperate + moment, found himself recalling a vivid picture of the actor Hooker + personating the character of “Red Dick” in “Rosalie, the Prairie Flower,” + as he had seen him in a California theatre five years before. + </p> + <p> + It wanted still an hour of the darkness that would probably close the + fight of that day. Could he hold out, keeping his offensive position so + long? A hasty council with his officers showed him that the weakness of + their position had already infected them. They reminded him that his line + of retreat was still open—that in the course of the night the enemy, + although still pressing towards the division centre, might yet turn and + outflank him—or that their strangely delayed supports might come up + before morning. Brant's glass, however, remained fixed on the main column, + still pursuing its way along the ridge. It struck him suddenly, however, + that the steady current had stopped, spread out along the crest on both + sides, and was now at right angles with its previous course. There had + been a check! The next moment the thunder of guns along the whole horizon, + and the rising cloud of smoke, revealed a line of battle. The division + centre was engaged. The opportunity he had longed for had come—the + desperate chance to throw himself on their rear and cut his way through to + the division—but it had come too late! He looked at his shattered + ranks—scarce a regiment remained. Even as a demonstration, the + attack would fail against the enemy's superior numbers. Nothing clearly + was left to him now but to remain where he was—within supporting + distance, and await the issue of the fight beyond. He was putting up his + glass, when the dull boom of cannon in the extreme western limit of the + horizon attracted his attention. By the still gleaming sky he could see a + long gray line stealing up from the valley from the distant rear of the + headquarters to join the main column. They were the missing supports! His + heart leaped. He held the key of the mystery now. The one imperfect detail + of the enemy's plan was before him. The supports, coming later from the + west, had only seen the second signal from the window—when Miss + Faulkner had replaced the vase—and had avoided his position. It was + impossible to limit the effect of this blunder. If the young girl who had + thus saved him had reached the division commander with his message in + time, he might be forewarned, and even profit by it. His own position + would be less precarious, as the enemy, already engaged in front, would be + unable to recover their position in the rear and correct the blunder. The + bulk of their column had already streamed past him. If defeated, there was + always the danger that it might be rolled back upon him—but he + conjectured that the division commander would attempt to prevent the + junction of the supports with the main column by breaking between them, + crowding them from the ridge, and joining him. As the last stragglers of + the rear guard swept by, Brant's bugles were already recalling the + skirmishers. He redoubled his pickets, and resolved to wait and watch. + </p> + <p> + And there was the more painful duty of looking after the wounded and the + dead. The larger rooms of the headquarters had already been used as a + hospital. Passing from cot to cot, recognizing in the faces now drawn with + agony, or staring in vacant unconsciousness, the features that he had seen + only a few hours before flushed with enthusiasm and excitement, something + of his old doubting, questioning nature returned. Was there no way but + this? How far was HE—moving among them unscathed and uninjured—responsible? + </p> + <p> + And if not he—who then? His mind went back bitterly to the old days + of the conspiracy—to the inception of that struggle which was + bearing such ghastly fruit. He thought of his traitorous wife, until he + felt his cheeks tingle, and he was fain to avert his eyes from those of + his prostrate comrades, in a strange fear that, with the clairvoyance of + dying men, they should read his secret. + </p> + <p> + It was past midnight when, without undressing, he threw himself upon his + bed in the little convent-like cell to snatch a few moments of sleep. Its + spotless, peaceful walls and draperies affected him strangely, as if he + had brought into its immaculate serenity the sanguine stain of war. He was + awakened suddenly from a deep slumber by an indefinite sense of alarm. His + first thought was that he had been summoned to repel an attack. He sat up + and listened; everything was silent except the measured tread of the + sentry on the gravel walk below. But the door was open. He sprang to his + feet and slipped into the gallery in time to see the tall figure of a + woman glide before the last moonlit window at its farthest end. He could + not see her face—but the characteristic turbaned head of the negro + race was plainly visible. + </p> + <p> + He did not care to follow her or even to alarm the guard. If it were the + spy or one of her emissaries, she was powerless now to do any harm, and + under his late orders and the rigorous vigilance of his sentinels she + could not leave the lines—or, indeed, the house. She probably knew + this as well as he did; it was, therefore, no doubt only an accidental + intrusion of one of the servants. He re-entered the room, and stood for a + few moments by the window, looking over the moonlit ridge. The sounds of + distant cannon had long since ceased. Wide awake, and refreshed by the + keen morning air, which alone of all created things seemed to have shaken + the burden of the dreadful yesterday from its dewy wings, he turned away + and lit a candle on the table. As he was rebuckling his sword belt he saw + a piece of paper lying on the foot of the bed from which he had just + risen. Taking it to the candle, he read in a roughly scrawled hand: + </p> + <p> + “You are asleep when you should be on the march. You have no time to lose. + Before daybreak the supports of the column you have been foolishly + resisting will be upon you.—From one who would save YOU, but hates + your cause.” + </p> + <p> + A smile of scorn passed his lips. The handwriting was unknown and + evidently disguised. The purport of the message had not alarmed him; but + suddenly a suspicion flashed upon him—that it came from Miss + Faulkner! She had failed in her attempt to pass through the enemy's lines—or + she had never tried to. She had deceived him—or had thought better + of her chivalrous impulse, and now sought to mitigate her second treachery + by this second warning. And he had let her messenger escape him! + </p> + <p> + He hurriedly descended the stairs. The sound of voices was approaching + him. He halted, and recognized the faces of the brigade surgeon and one of + his aides-de-camp. + </p> + <p> + “We were hesitating whether to disturb you, general, but it may be an + affair of some importance. Under your orders a negro woman was just now + challenged stealing out of the lines. Attempting to escape, she was + chased, there was a struggle and scramble over the wall, and she fell, + striking her head. She was brought into the guardhouse unconscious.” + </p> + <p> + “Very good. I will see her,” said Brant, with a feeling of relief. + </p> + <p> + “One moment, general. We thought you would perhaps prefer to see her + alone,” said the surgeon, “for when I endeavored to bring her to, and was + sponging her face and head to discover her injuries, her color came off! + She was a white woman—stained and disguised as a mulatto.” + </p> + <p> + For an instant Brant's heart sank. It was Miss Faulkner. + </p> + <p> + “Did you recognize her?” he said, glancing from the one to the other. + “Have you seen her here before?” + </p> + <p> + “No, sir,” replied the aide-de-camp. “But she seemed to be quite a + superior woman—a lady, I should say.” + </p> + <p> + Brant breathed more freely. + </p> + <p> + “Where is she now?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + “In the guardhouse. We thought it better not to bring her into hospital, + among the men, until we had your orders.” + </p> + <p> + “You have done well,” returned Brant gravely. “And you will keep this to + yourselves for the present; but see that she is brought here quietly and + with as little publicity as possible. Put her in my room above, which I + give up to her and any necessary attendant. But you will look carefully + after her, doctor,”—he turned to the surgeon,—“and when she + recovers consciousness let me know.” + </p> + <p> + He moved away. Although attaching little importance to the mysterious + message, whether sent by Miss Faulkner or emanating from the stranger + herself, which, he reasoned, was based only upon a knowledge of the + original plan of attack, he nevertheless quickly dispatched a small + scouting party in the direction from which the attack might come, with + orders to fall back and report at once. With a certain half irony of + recollection he had selected Jim Hooker to accompany the party as a + volunteer. This done, he returned to the gallery. The surgeon met him at + the door. + </p> + <p> + “The indications of concussion are passing away,” he said, “but she seems + to be suffering from the exhaustion following some great nervous + excitement. You may go in—she may rally from it at any moment.” + </p> + <p> + With the artificial step and mysterious hush of the ordinary visitor to a + sick bed, Brant entered the room. But some instinct greater than this + common expression of humanity held him suddenly in awe. The room seemed no + longer his—it had slipped back into that austere conventual privacy + which had first impressed him. Yet he hesitated; another strange + suggestion—it seemed almost a vague recollection—overcame him + like some lingering perfume, far off and pathetic, in its dying + familiarity. He turned his eyes almost timidly towards the bed. The + coverlet was drawn up near the throat of the figure to replace the striped + cotton gown stained with blood and dust, which had been hurriedly torn off + and thrown on a chair. The pale face, cleansed of blood and disguising + color, the long hair, still damp from the surgeon's sponge, lay rigidly + back on the pillow. Suddenly this man of steady nerve uttered a faint cry, + and, with a face as white as the upturned one before him, fell on his + knees beside the bed. For the face that lay there was his wife's! + </p> + <p> + Yes, hers! But the beautiful hair that she had gloried in—the hair + that in his youth he had thought had once fallen like a benediction on his + shoulder—was streaked with gray along the blue-veined hollows of the + temples; the orbits of those clear eyes, beneath their delicately arched + brows, were ringed with days of suffering; only the clear-cut profile, + even to the delicate imperiousness of lips and nostril, was still there in + all its beauty. The coverlet had slipped from her shoulder; its familiar + cold contour startled him. He remembered how, in their early married days, + he had felt the sanctity of that Diana-like revelation, and the still + nymph-like austerity which clung to this strange, childless woman. He even + fancied that he breathed again the subtle characteristic perfume of the + laces, embroideries, and delicate enwrappings in her chamber at Robles. + Perhaps it was the intensity of his gaze—perhaps it was the + magnetism of his presence—but her lips parted with a half sigh, half + moan. Her head, although her eyes were still closed, turned on the pillow + instinctively towards him. He rose from his knees. Her eyes opened slowly. + As the first glare of wonderment cleared from them, they met him—in + the old antagonism of spirit. Yet her first gesture was a pathetic + feminine movement with both hands to arrange her straggling hair. It + brought her white fingers, cleaned of their disguising stains, as a sudden + revelation to her of what had happened; she instantly slipped them back + under the coverlet again. Brant did not speak, but with folded arms stood + gazing upon her. And it was her voice that first broke the silence. + </p> + <p> + “You have recognized me? Well, I suppose you know all,” she said, with a + weak half-defiance. + </p> + <p> + He bowed his head. He felt as yet he could not trust his voice, and envied + her her own. + </p> + <p> + “I may sit up, mayn't I?” She managed, by sheer force of will, to struggle + to a sitting posture. Then, as the coverlet slipped from the bare + shoulder, she said, as she drew it, with a shiver of disgust, around her + again,— + </p> + <p> + “I forgot that you strip women, you Northern soldiers! But I forgot, too,” + she added, with a sarcastic smile, “that you are also my husband, and I am + in your room.” + </p> + <p> + The contemptuous significance of her speech dispelled the last lingering + remnant of Brant's dream. In a voice as dry as her own, he said,— + </p> + <p> + “I am afraid you will now have to remember only that I am a Northern + general, and you a Southern spy.” + </p> + <p> + “So be it,” she said gravely. Then impulsively, “But I have not spied on + YOU.” + </p> + <p> + Yet, the next moment, she bit her lips as if the expression had + unwittingly escaped her; and with a reckless shrug of her shoulders she + lay back on her pillow. + </p> + <p> + “It matters not,” said Brant coldly. “You have used this house and those + within it to forward your designs. It is not your fault that you found + nothing in the dispatch-box you opened.” + </p> + <p> + She stared at him quickly; then shrugged her shoulders again. + </p> + <p> + “I might have known she was false to me,” she said bitterly, “and that you + would wheedle her soul away as you have others. Well, she betrayed me! For + what?” + </p> + <p> + A flush passed over Brant's face. But with an effort he contained himself. + </p> + <p> + “It was the flower that betrayed you! The flower whose red dust fell in + the box when you opened it on the desk by the window in yonder room—the + flower that stood in the window as a signal—the flower I myself + removed, and so spoiled the miserable plot that your friends concocted.” + </p> + <p> + A look of mingled terror and awe came into her face. + </p> + <p> + “YOU changed the signal!” she repeated dazedly; then, in a lower voice, + “that accounts for it all!” But the next moment she turned again fiercely + upon him. “And you mean to tell me that she didn't help you—that she + didn't sell me—your wife—to you for—for what was it? A + look—a kiss!” + </p> + <p> + “I mean to say that she did not know the signal was changed, and that she + herself restored it to its place. It is no fault of hers nor yours that I + am not here a prisoner.” + </p> + <p> + She passed her thin hand dazedly across her forehead. + </p> + <p> + “I see,” she muttered. Then again bursting out passionately, she said—“Fool! + you never would have been touched! Do you think that Lee would have gone + for you, with higher game in your division commander? No! Those supports + were a feint to draw him to your assistance while our main column broke + his centre. Yes, you may stare at me, Clarence Brant. You are a good + lawyer—they say a dashing fighter, too. I never thought you a + coward, even in your irresolution; but you are fighting with men drilled + in the art of war and strategy when you were a boy outcast on the plains.” + She stopped, closed her eyes, and then added, wearily—“But that was + yesterday—to-day, who knows? All may be changed. The supports may + still attack you. That was why I stopped to write you that note an hour + ago, when I believed I should be leaving here for ever. Yes, I did it!” + she went on, with half-wearied, half-dogged determination. “You may as + well know all. I had arranged to fly. Your pickets were to be drawn by + friends of mine, who were waiting for me beyond your lines. Well, I + lingered here when I saw you arrive—lingered to write you that note. + And—I was too late!” + </p> + <p> + But Brant had been watching her varying expression, her kindling eye, her + strange masculine grasp of military knowledge, her soldierly phraseology, + all so new to her, that he scarcely heeded the feminine ending of her + speech. It seemed to him no longer the Diana of his youthful fancy, but + some Pallas Athene, who now looked up at him from the pillow. He had never + before fully believed in her unselfish devotion to the cause until now, + when it seemed to have almost unsexed her. In his wildest comprehension of + her he had never dreamed her a Joan of Arc, and yet hers was the face + which might have confronted him, exalted and inspired, on the battlefield + itself. He recalled himself with an effort. + </p> + <p> + “I thank you for your would-be warning,” he said more gently, if not so + tenderly, “and God knows I wish your flight had been successful. But even + your warning is unnecessary, for the supports had already come up; they + had followed the second signal, and diverged to engage our division on the + left, leaving me alone. And their ruse of drawing our commander to assist + me would not have been successful, as I had suspected it, and sent a + message to him that I wanted no help.” + </p> + <p> + It was the truth; it was the sole purport of the note he had sent through + Miss Faulkner. He would not have disclosed his sacrifice; but so great was + the strange domination of this woman still over him, that he felt + compelled to assert his superiority. She fixed her eyes upon him. + </p> + <p> + “And Miss Faulkner took your message?” she said slowly. “Don't deny it! No + one else could have passed through our lines; and you gave her a safe + conduct through yours. Yes, I might have known it. And this was the + creature they sent me for an ally and confidant!” + </p> + <p> + For an instant Brant felt the sting of this enforced contrast between the + two women. But he only said,— + </p> + <p> + “You forget that I did not know you were the spy, nor do I believe that + she suspected you were my wife.” + </p> + <p> + “Why should she?” she said almost fiercely. “I am known among these people + only by the name of Benham—-my maiden name. Yes!—you can take + me out, and shoot me under that name, without disgracing yours. Nobody + will know that the Southern spy was the wife of the Northern general! You + see, I have thought even of that!” + </p> + <p> + “And thinking of that,” said Brant slowly, “you have put yourself—I + will not say in my power, for you are in the power of any man in this camp + who may know you, or even hear you speak. Well, let us understand each + other plainly. I do not know how great a sacrifice your devotion to your + cause demands of you; I do know what it seems to demand of me. Hear me, + then! I will do my best to protect you, and get you safely away from here; + but, failing that, I tell you plainly that I shall blow out your brains + and my own together.” + </p> + <p> + She knew that he would do it. Yet her eyes suddenly beamed with a new and + awakening light; she put back her hair again, and half raised herself upon + the pillow, to gaze at his dark, set face. + </p> + <p> + “And as I shall let no other life but ours be periled in this affair,” he + went on quietly, “and will accompany you myself in some disguise beyond + the lines, we will together take the risks—or the bullets of the + sentries that may save us both all further trouble. An hour or two more + will settle that. Until then your weak condition will excuse you from any + disturbance or intrusion here. The mulatto woman you have sometimes + personated may be still in this house; I will appoint her to attend you. I + suppose you can trust her, for you must personate her again, and escape in + her clothes, while she takes your place in this room as my prisoner.” + </p> + <p> + “Clarence!” + </p> + <p> + Her voice had changed suddenly; it was no longer bitter and stridulous, + but low and thrilling as he had heard her call to him that night in the + patio of Robles. He turned quickly. She was leaning from the bed—her + thin, white hands stretched appealingly towards him. + </p> + <p> + “Let us go together, Clarence,” she said eagerly. “Let us leave this + horrible place—these wicked, cruel people—forever. Come with + me! Come with me to my people—to my own faith—to my own house—which + shall be yours! Come with me to defend it with your good sword, Clarence, + against those vile invaders with whom you have nothing in common, and who + are the dirt under your feet. Yes, yes! I know it!—I have done you + wrong—I have lied to you when I spoke against your skill and power. + You are a hero—a born leader of men! I know it! Have I not heard it + from the men who have fought against you, and yet admired and understood + you, ay, better than your own?—gallant men, Clarence, soldiers bred + who did not know what you were to me nor how proud I was of you even while + I hated you? Come with me! Think what we would do together—with one + faith—one cause—one ambition! Think, Clarence, there is no + limit you might not attain! We are no niggards of our rewards and honors—we + have no hireling votes to truckle to—we know our friends! Even I—Clarence—I”—there + was a strange pathos in the sudden humility that seemed to overcome her—“I + have had my reward and known my power. I have been sent abroad, in the + confidence of the highest—to the highest. Don't turn from me. I am + offering you no bribe, Clarence, only your deserts. Come with me. Leave + these curs behind, and live the hero that you are!” + </p> + <p> + He turned his blazing eyes upon her. + </p> + <p> + “If you were a man”—he began passionately, then stopped. + </p> + <p> + “No! I am only a woman and must fight in a woman's way,” she interrupted + bitterly. “Yes! I intreat, I implore, I wheedle, I flatter, I fawn, I lie! + I creep where you stand upright, and pass through doors to which you would + not bow. You wear your blazon of honor on your shoulder; I hide mine in a + slave's gown. And yet I have worked and striven and suffered! Listen, + Clarence,” her voice again sank to its appealing minor,—“I know what + you men call 'honor,' that which makes you cling to a merely spoken word, + or an empty oath. Well, let that pass! I am weary; I have done my share of + this work, you have done yours. Let us both fly; let us leave the fight to + those who shall come after us, and let us go together to some distant land + where the sounds of these guns or the blood of our brothers no longer cry + out to us for vengeance! There are those living here—I have met + them, Clarence,” she went on hurriedly, “who think it wrong to lift up + fratricidal hands in the struggle, yet who cannot live under the Northern + yoke. They are,” her voice hesitated, “good men and women—they are + respected—they are”— + </p> + <p> + “Recreants and slaves, before whom you, spy as you are—stand a + queen!” broke in Brant, passionately. He stopped and turned towards the + window. After a pause he came back again towards the bed—paused + again and then said in a lower voice—“Four years ago, Alice, in the + patio of our house at Robles, I might have listened to this proposal, and—I + tremble to think—I might have accepted it! I loved you; I was as + weak, as selfish, as unreflecting, my life was as purposeless—but + for you—as the creatures you speak of. But give me now, at least, + the credit of a devotion to my cause equal to your own—a credit + which I have never denied you! For the night that you left me, I awoke to + a sense of my own worthlessness and degradation—perhaps I have even + to thank you for that awakening—and I realized the bitter truth. But + that night I found my true vocation—my purpose, my manhood”— + </p> + <p> + A bitter laugh came from the pillow on which she had languidly thrown + herself. + </p> + <p> + “I believe I left you with Mrs. Hooker—spare me the details.” + </p> + <p> + The blood rushed to Brant's face and then receded as suddenly. + </p> + <p> + “You left me with Captain Pinckney, who had tempted you, and whom I + killed!” he said furiously. + </p> + <p> + They were both staring savagely at each other. Suddenly he said, “Hush!” + and sprang towards the door, as the sound of hurried footsteps echoed + along the passage. But he was too late; it was thrown open to the officer + of the guard, who appeared, standing on the threshold. + </p> + <p> + “Two Confederate officers arrested hovering around our pickets. They + demand to see you.” + </p> + <p> + Before Brant could interpose, two men in riding cloaks of Confederate gray + stepped into the room with a jaunty and self-confident air. + </p> + <p> + “Not DEMAND, general,” said the foremost, a tall, distinguished-looking + man, lifting his hand with a graceful deprecating air. “In fact, too sorry + to bother you with an affair of no importance except to ourselves. A bit + of after-dinner bravado brought us in contact with your pickets, and, of + course, we had to take the consequences. Served us right, and we were + lucky not to have got a bullet through us. Gad! I'm afraid my men would + have been less discreet! I am Colonel Lagrange, of the 5th Tennessee; my + young friend here is Captain Faulkner, of the 1st Kentucky. Some excuse + for a youngster like him—none for me! I”— + </p> + <p> + He stopped, for his eyes suddenly fell upon the bed and its occupant. Both + he and his companion started. But to the natural, unaffected dismay of a + gentleman who had unwittingly intruded upon a lady's bedchamber, Brant's + quick eye saw a more disastrous concern superadded. Colonel Lagrange was + quick to recover himself, as they both removed their caps. + </p> + <p> + “A thousand pardons,” he said, hurriedly stepping backwards to the door. + “But I hardly need say to a fellow-officer, general, that we had no idea + of making so gross an intrusion! We heard some cock-and-bull story of your + being occupied—cross-questioning an escaped or escaping nigger—or + we should never have forced ourselves upon you.” + </p> + <p> + Brant glanced quickly at his wife. Her face had apparently become rigid on + the entrance of the two men; her eyes were coldly fixed upon the ceiling. + He bowed formally, and, with a wave of his hand towards the door, said,— + </p> + <p> + “I will hear your story below, gentleman.” + </p> + <p> + He followed them from the room, stopped to quietly turn the key in the + lock, and then motioned them to precede him down the staircase. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0011" id="link2HCH0011"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER VII. + </h2> + <p> + Not a word was exchanged till they had reached the lower landing and + Brant's private room. Dismissing his subaltern and orderly with a sign, + Brant turned towards his prisoners. The jaunty ease, but not the + self-possession, had gone from Lagrange's face; the eyes of Captain + Faulkner were fixed on his older companion with a half-humorous look of + perplexity. + </p> + <p> + “I am afraid I can only repeat, general, that our foolhardy freak has put + us in collision with your sentries,” said Lagrange, with a slight hauteur, + that replaced his former jauntiness; “and we were very properly made + prisoners. If you will accept my parole, I have no doubt our commander + will proceed to exchange a couple of gallant fellows of yours, whom I have + had the honor of meeting within our own lines, and whom you must miss + probably more than I fear our superiors miss us.” + </p> + <p> + “Whatever brought you here, gentlemen,” said Brant drily, “I am glad, for + your sakes, that you are in uniform, although it does not, unfortunately, + relieve me of an unpleasant duty.” + </p> + <p> + “I don't think I understand you,” returned Lagrange, coldly. + </p> + <p> + “If you had not been in uniform, you would probably have been shot down as + spies, without the trouble of capture,” said Brant quietly. + </p> + <p> + “Do you mean to imply, sir”—began Lagrange sternly. + </p> + <p> + “I mean to say that the existence of a Confederate spy between this camp + and the division headquarters is sufficiently well known to us to justify + the strongest action.” + </p> + <p> + “And pray, how can that affect us?” said Lagrange haughtily. + </p> + <p> + “I need not inform so old a soldier as Colonel Lagrange that the aiding, + abetting, and even receiving information from a spy or traitor within + one's lines is an equally dangerous service.” + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps you would like to satisfy yourself, General,” said Colonel + Lagrange, with an ironical laugh. “Pray do not hesitate on account of our + uniform. Search us if you like.” + </p> + <p> + “Not on entering my lines, Colonel,” replied Brant, with quiet + significance. + </p> + <p> + Lagrange's cheek flushed. But he recovered himself quickly, and with a + formal bow said,— + </p> + <p> + “You will, then, perhaps, let us know your pleasure?” + </p> + <p> + “My DUTY, Colonel, is to keep you both close prisoners here until I have + an opportunity to forward you to the division commander, with a report of + the circumstances of your arrest. That I propose to do. How soon I may + have that opportunity, or if I am ever to have it,” continued Brant, + fixing his clear eyes significantly on Lagrange, “depends upon the chances + of war, which you probably understand as well as I do.” + </p> + <p> + “We should never think of making any calculation on the action of an + officer of such infinite resources as General Brant,” said Lagrange + ironically. + </p> + <p> + “You will, no doubt, have an opportunity of stating your own case to the + division commander,” continued Brant, with an unmoved face. “And,” he + continued, turning for the first time to Captain Faulkner, “when you tell + the commander what I believe to be the fact—from your name and + resemblance—that you are a relation of the young lady who for the + last three weeks has been an inmate of this house under a pass from + Washington, you will, I have no doubt, favorably explain your own + propinquity to my lines.” + </p> + <p> + “My sister Tilly!” said the young officer impulsively. “But she is no + longer here. She passed through the lines back to Washington yesterday. + No,” he added, with a light laugh, “I'm afraid that excuse won't count for + to-day.” + </p> + <p> + A sudden frown upon the face of the elder officer, added to the perfect + ingenuousness of Faulkner's speech, satisfied Brant that he had not only + elicited the truth, but that Miss Faulkner had been successful. But he was + sincere in his suggestion that her relationship to the young officer would + incline the division commander to look leniently upon his fault, for he + was conscious of a singular satisfaction in thus being able to serve her. + Of the real object of the two men before him he had no doubt. They were + “the friends” of his wife, who were waiting for her outside the lines! + Chance alone had saved her from being arrested with them, with the + consequent exposure of her treachery before his own men, who, as yet, had + no proof of her guilt, nor any suspicion of her actual identity. Meanwhile + his own chance of conveying her with safety beyond his lines was not + affected by the incident; the prisoners dare not reveal what they knew of + her, and it was with a grim triumph that he thought of compassing her + escape without their aid. Nothing of this, however, was visible in his + face, which the younger man watched with a kind of boyish curiosity, while + Colonel Lagrange regarded the ceiling with a politely repressed yawn. “I + regret,” concluded Brant, as he summoned the officer of the guard, “that I + shall have to deprive you of each other's company during the time you are + here; but I shall see that you, separately, want for nothing in your + confinement.” + </p> + <p> + “If this is with a view to separate interrogatory, general, I can retire + now,” said Lagrange, rising, with ironical politeness. + </p> + <p> + “I believe I have all the information I require,” returned Brant, with + undisturbed composure. Giving the necessary orders to his subaltern, he + acknowledged with equal calm the formal salutes of the two prisoners as + they were led away, and returned quickly to his bedroom above. He paused + instinctively for a moment before the closed door, and listened. There was + no sound from within. He unlocked the door, and opened it. + </p> + <p> + So quiet was the interior that for an instant, without glancing at the + bed, he cast a quick look at the window, which, till then, he had + forgotten, and which he remembered gave upon the veranda roof. But it was + still closed, and as he approached the bed, he saw his wife still lying + there, in the attitude in which he had left her. But her eyes were ringed, + and slightly filmed, as if with recent tears. + </p> + <p> + It was perhaps this circumstance that softened his voice, still harsh with + command, as he said,— + </p> + <p> + “I suppose you knew those two men?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + “And that I have put it out of their power to help you?” + </p> + <p> + “I do.” + </p> + <p> + There was something so strangely submissive in her voice that he again + looked suspiciously at her. But he was shocked to see that she was quite + pale now, and that the fire had gone out of her dark eyes. + </p> + <p> + “Then I may tell you what is my plan to save you. But, first, you must + find this mulatto woman who has acted as your double.” + </p> + <p> + “She is here.” + </p> + <p> + “Here?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + “How do you know it?” he asked, in quick suspicion. + </p> + <p> + “She was not to leave this place until she knew I was safe within our + lines. I have some friends who are faithful to me.” After a pause she + added, “She has been here already.” + </p> + <p> + He looked at her, startled. “Impossible—I”— + </p> + <p> + “You locked the door. Yes! but she has a second key. And even if she had + not, there is another entrance from that closet. You do not know this + house: you have been here two weeks; I spent two years of my life, as a + girl, in this room.” + </p> + <p> + An indescribable sensation came over him; he remembered how he had felt + when he first occupied it; this was followed by a keen sense of shame on + reflecting that he had been, ever since, but a helpless puppet in the + power of his enemies, and that she could have escaped if she would, even + now. + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps,” he said grimly, “you have already arranged your plans?” + </p> + <p> + She looked at him with a singular reproachfulness even in her submission. + </p> + <p> + “I have only told her to be ready to change clothes with me and help me + color my face and hands at the time appointed. I have left the rest to + you.” + </p> + <p> + “Then this is my plan. I have changed only a detail. You and she must both + leave this house at the same time, by different exits, but one of them + must be private—and unknown to my men. Do you know of such a one?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” she said, “in the rear of the negro quarters.” + </p> + <p> + “Good,” he replied, “that will be your way out. She will leave here, + publicly, through the parade, armed with a pass from me. She will be + overhauled and challenged by the first sentry near the guardhouse, below + the wall. She will be subjected to some delay and scrutiny, which she + will, however, be able to pass better than you would. This will create the + momentary diversion that we require. In the mean time, you will have left + the house by the rear, and you will then keep in the shadow of the hedge + until you can drop down along the Run, where it empties into the swamp. + That,” he continued, fixing his keen eyes upon her, “is the one weak point + in the position of this place that is neither overlooked nor defended. But + perhaps,” he added again grimly, “you already know it.” + </p> + <p> + “It is the marsh where the flowers grow, near the path where you met Miss + Faulkner. I had crossed the marsh to give her a letter,” she said slowly. + </p> + <p> + A bitter smile came over Brant's face, but passed as quickly. + </p> + <p> + “Enough,” he said quietly, “I will meet you beside the Run, and cross the + marsh with you until you are within hailing distance of your lines. I will + be in plain clothes, Alice,” he went on slowly, “for it will not be the + commander of this force who accompanies you, but your husband, and, + without disgracing his uniform, he will drop to your level; for the + instant he passes his own lines, in disguise, he will become, like you, a + spy, and amenable to its penalties.” + </p> + <p> + Her eyes seemed suddenly to leap up to his with that strange look of + awakening and enthusiasm which he had noted before. And in its complete + prepossession of all her instincts she rose from the bed, unheeding her + bared arms and shoulders and loosened hair, and stood upright before him. + For an instant husband and wife regarded each other as unreservedly as in + their own chamber at Robles. + </p> + <p> + “When shall I go?” + </p> + <p> + He glanced through the window already growing lighter with the coming + dawn. The relief would pass in a few moments; the time seemed propitious. + </p> + <p> + “At once,” he said. “I will send Rose to you.” + </p> + <p> + But his wife had already passed into the closet, and was tapping upon some + inner door. He heard the sound of hinges turning and the rustling of + garments. She reappeared, holding the curtains of the closet together with + her hand, and said,— + </p> + <p> + “Go! When she comes to your office for the pass, you will know that I have + gone.” + </p> + <p> + He turned away. + </p> + <p> + “Stop!” she said faintly. + </p> + <p> + He turned back. Her expression had again changed. Her face was deadly + pale; a strange tremor seemed to have taken possession of her. Her hands + dropped from the curtain. Her beautiful arms moved slightly forward; it + seemed to him that she would in the next moment have extended them towards + him. But even then she said hurriedly, “Go! Go!” and slipped again behind + the curtains. + </p> + <p> + He quickly descended the stairs as the sound of trampling feet on the + road, and the hurried word of command, announced the return of the + scouting party. The officer had little report to make beyond the fact that + a morning mist, creeping along the valley, prevented any further + observation, and bade fair to interrupt their own communications with the + camp. Everything was quiet in the west, although the enemy's lines along + the ridge seemed to have receded. + </p> + <p> + Brant had listened impatiently, for a new idea had seized him. Hooker was + of the party, and was the one man in whom he could partly confide, and + obtain a disguise. He at once made his way to the commissary wagons—one + of which he knew Hooker used as a tent. Hastily telling him that he wished + to visit the pickets without recognition, he induced him to lend him his + slouched hat and frock coat, leaving with him his own distinguishing + tunic, hat, and sword. He resisted the belt and pistols which Hooker would + have forced upon him. As he left the wagon he was amusedly conscious that + his old companion was characteristically examining the garments he had + left behind with mingled admiration and envy. But he did not know, as he + slipped out of the camp, that Mr. Hooker was quietly trying them on, + before a broken mirror in the wagon-head! + </p> + <p> + The gray light of that summer morning was already so strong that, to avoid + detection, he quickly dropped into the shadow of the gully that sloped + towards the Run. The hot mist which the scouts had seen was now lying like + a tranquil sea between him and the pickets of the enemy's rear-guard, + which it seemed to submerge, and was clinging in moist tenuous swathes—like + drawn-out cotton wool—along the ridge, half obliterating its face. + From the valley in the rear it was already stealing in a thin white line + up the slope like the advance of a ghostly column, with a stealthiness + that, in spite of himself, touched him with superstitious significance. A + warm perfume, languid and treacherous—as from the swamp magnolia—seemed + to rise from the half-hidden marsh. An ominous silence, that appeared to + be a part of this veiling of all things under the clear opal-tinted sky + above, was so little like the hush of rest and peace, that he half-yearned + for the outburst of musketry and tumult of attack that might dispel it. + All that he had ever heard or dreamed of the insidious South, with its + languid subtleties of climate and of race, seemed to encompass him here. + </p> + <p> + But the next moment he saw the figure he was waiting for stealing towards + him from the shadow of the gulley beneath the negro quarters. + </p> + <p> + Even in that uncertain light there was no mistaking the tall figure, the + gaudily striped clinging gown and turbaned head. And then a strange + revulsion of feeling, quite characteristic of the emotional side of his + singular temperament, overcame him. He was taking leave of his wife—the + dream of his youth—perhaps forever! It should be no parting in anger + as at Robles; it should be with a tenderness that would blot out their + past in their separate memories—God knows! it might even be that a + parting at that moment was a joining of them in eternity. In his momentary + exaltation it even struck him that it was a duty, no less sacred, no less + unselfish than the one to which he had devoted his life. The light was + growing stronger; he could hear voices in the nearest picket line, and the + sound of a cough in the invading mist. He made a hurried sign to the + on-coming figure to follow him, ran ahead, and halted at last in the cover + of a hackmatack bush. Still gazing forward over the marsh, he stealthily + held out his hand behind him as the rustling skirt came nearer. At last + his hand was touched—but even at that touch he started and turned + quickly. + </p> + <p> + It was not his wife, but Rose!—her mulatto double! Her face was + rigid with fright, her beady eyes staring in their china sockets, her + white teeth chattering. Yet she would have spoken. + </p> + <p> + “Hush!” he said, clutching her hand, in a fierce whisper. “Not a word!” + </p> + <p> + She was holding something white in her fingers; he snatched it quickly. It + was a note from his wife—not in the disguised hand of her first + warning, but in one that he remembered as if it were a voice from their + past. + </p> + <p> + “Forgive me for disobeying you to save you from capture, disgrace, or + death—which would have come to you where you were going! I have + taken Rose's pass. You need not fear that your honor will suffer by it, + for if I am stopped I shall confess that I took it from her. Think no more + of me, Clarence, but only of yourself. You are in danger.” + </p> + <p> + He crushed the letter in his hand. + </p> + <p> + “Tell me,” he said in a fierce whisper, seizing her arm, “and speak low. + When did you leave her?” + </p> + <p> + “Sho'ly just now!” gasped the frightened woman. + </p> + <p> + He flung her aside. There might be still time to overtake and save her + before she reached the picket lines. He ran up the gully, and out on to + the slope towards the first guard-post. But a familiar challenge reached + his ear, and his heart stopped beating. + </p> + <p> + “Who goes there?” + </p> + <p> + There was a pause, a rattle of arms voices—another pause—and + Brant stood breathlessly listening. Then the voice rose again slowly and + clearly: “Pass the mulatto woman!” + </p> + <p> + Thank God! she was saved! But the thought had scarcely crossed his mind + before it seemed to him that a blinding crackle of sparks burst out along + the whole slope below the wall, a characteristic yell which he knew too + well rang in his ears, and an undulating line of dusty figures came + leaping like gray wolves out of the mist upon his pickets. He heard the + shouts of his men falling back as they fired; the harsh commands of a few + officers hurrying to their posts, and knew that he had been hopelessly + surprised and surrounded! + </p> + <p> + He ran forward among his disorganized men. To his consternation no one + seemed to heed him! Then the remembrance of his disguise flashed upon him. + But he had only time to throw away his hat and snatch a sword from a + falling lieutenant, before a scorching flash seemed to pass before his + eyes and burn through his hair, and he dropped like a log beside his + subaltern. + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + An aching under the bandage around his head where a spent bullet had + grazed his scalp, and the sound of impossible voices in his ears were all + he knew as he struggled slowly back to consciousness again. Even then it + still seemed a delusion,—for he was lying on a cot in his own + hospital, yet with officers of the division staff around him, and the + division commander himself standing by his side, and regarding him with an + air of grave but not unkindly concern. But the wounded man felt + instinctively that it was not the effect of his physical condition, and a + sense of shame came suddenly over him, which was not dissipated by his + superior's words. For, motioning the others aside, the major-general + leaned over his cot, and said,— + </p> + <p> + “Until a few moments ago, the report was that you had been captured in the + first rush of the rear-guard which we were rolling up for your attack, and + when you were picked up, just now, in plain clothes on the slope, you were + not recognized. The one thing seemed to be as improbable as the other,” he + added significantly. + </p> + <p> + The miserable truth flashed across Brant's mind. Hooker must have been + captured in his clothes—perhaps in some extravagant sally—and + had not been recognized in the confusion by his own officers. + Nevertheless, he raised his eyes to his superior. + </p> + <p> + “You got my note?” + </p> + <p> + The general's brow darkened. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” he said slowly, “but finding you thus unprepared—I had been + thinking just now that you had been deceived by that woman—or by + others—and that it was a clumsy forgery.” He stopped, and seeing the + hopeless bewilderment in the face of the wounded man, added more kindly: + “But we will not talk of that in your present condition. The doctor says a + few hours will put you straight again. Get strong, for I want you to lose + no time—for your own sake—to report yourself at Washington.” + </p> + <p> + “Report myself—at Washington!” repeated Brant slowly. + </p> + <p> + “That was last night's order,” said the commander, with military curtness. + Then he burst out: “I don't understand it, Brant! I believe you have been + misunderstood, misrepresented, perhaps maligned and I shall make it MY + business to see the thing through—but those are the Department + orders. And for the present—I am sorry to say you are relieved of + your command.” + </p> + <p> + He turned away, and Brant closed his eyes. With them it seemed to him that + he closed his career. No one would ever understand his explanation—even + had he been tempted to give one, and he knew he never would. Everything + was over now! Even this wretched bullet had not struck him fairly, and + culminated his fate as it might! For an instant, he recalled his wife's + last offer to fly with him beyond the seas—beyond this cruel + injustice—but even as he recalled it, he knew that flight meant the + worst of all—a half-confession! But she had escaped! Thank God for + that! Again and again in his hopeless perplexity this comfort returned to + him,—he had saved her; he had done his duty. And harping upon this + in his strange fatalism, it at last seemed to him that this was for what + he had lived—for what he had suffered—for what he had fitly + ended his career. Perhaps it was left for him now to pass his remaining + years in forgotten exile—even as his father had—his father!—his + breath came quickly at the thought—God knows! perhaps as wrongfully + accused! It may have been a Providence that she had borne him no child, to + whom this dreadful heritage could be again transmitted. + </p> + <p> + There was something of this strange and fateful resignation in his face, a + few hours later, when he was able to be helped again into the saddle. But + he could see in the eyes of the few comrades who commiseratingly took + leave of him, a vague, half-repressed awe of some indefinite weakness in + the man, that mingled with their heartfelt parting with a gallant soldier. + Yet even this touched him no longer. He cast a glance at the house and the + room where he had parted from her, at the slope from which she had passed—and + rode away. + </p> + <p> + And then, as his figure disappeared down the road, the restrained + commentary of wonder, surmise, and criticism broke out:— + </p> + <p> + “It must have been something mighty bad, for the old man, who swears by + him, looked rather troubled. And it was deuced queer, you know, this + changing clothes with somebody, just before this surprise!” + </p> + <p> + “Nonsense! It's something away back of that! Didn't you hear the old man + say that the orders for him to report himself came from Washington LAST + NIGHT? No!”—the speaker lowered his voice—“Strangeways says + that he had regularly sold himself out to one of them d——d + secesh woman spies! It's the old Marc Antony business over again!” + </p> + <p> + “Now I think of it,” said a younger subaltern, “he did seem mightily taken + with one of those quadroons or mulattoes he issued orders against. I + suppose that was a blind for us! I remember the first day he saw her; he + was regularly keen to know all about her.” + </p> + <p> + Major Curtis gave a short laugh. + </p> + <p> + “That mulatto, Martin, was a white woman, burnt-corked! She was trying to + get through the lines last night, and fell off a wall or got a knock on + the head from a sentry's carbine. When she was brought in, Doctor Simmons + set to washing the blood off her face; the cork came off and the whole + thing came out. Brant hushed it up—and the woman, too—in his + own quarters! It's supposed now that she got away somehow in the rush!” + </p> + <p> + “It goes further back than that, gentlemen,” said the adjutant + authoritatively. “They say his wife was a howling secessionist, four years + ago, in California, was mixed up in a conspiracy, and he had to leave on + account of it. Look how thick he and that Miss Faulkner became, before he + helped HER off!” + </p> + <p> + “That's your jealousy, Tommy; she knew he was, by all odds, the biggest + man here, and a good deal more, too, and you had no show!” + </p> + <p> + In the laugh that followed, it would seem that Brant's eulogy had been + spoken and forgotten. But as Lieutenant Martin was turning away, a + lingering corporal touched his cap. + </p> + <p> + “You were speaking of those prowling mulattoes, sir. You know the general + passed one out this morning.” + </p> + <p> + “So I have heard.” + </p> + <p> + “I reckon she didn't get very far. It was just at the time that we were + driven in by their first fire, and I think she got her share of it, too. + Do you mind walking this way, sir!” + </p> + <p> + The lieutenant did not mind, although he rather languidly followed. When + they had reached the top of the gully, the corporal pointed to what seemed + to be a bit of striped calico hanging on a thorn bush in the ravine. + </p> + <p> + “That's her,” said the corporal. “I know the dress; I was on guard when + she was passed. The searchers, who were picking up our men, haven't got to + her yet; but she ain't moved or stirred these two hours. Would you like to + go down and see her?” + </p> + <p> + The lieutenant hesitated. He was young, and slightly fastidious as to + unnecessary unpleasantness. He believed he would wait until the searchers + brought her up, when the corporal might call him. + </p> + <p> + The mist came up gloriously from the swamp like a golden halo. And as + Clarence Brant, already forgotten, rode moodily through it towards + Washington, hugging to his heart the solitary comfort of his great + sacrifice, his wife, Alice Brant, for whom he had made it, was lying in + the ravine, dead and uncared for. Perhaps it was part of the inconsistency + of her sex that she was pierced with the bullets of those she had loved, + and was wearing the garments of the race that she had wronged. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_PART3" id="link2H_PART3"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + PART III. + </h2> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0012" id="link2HCH0012"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER I. + </h2> + <p> + It was sunset of a hot day at Washington. Even at that hour the broad + avenues, which diverged from the Capitol like the rays of another sun, + were fierce and glittering. The sterile distances between glowed more + cruelly than ever, and pedestrians, keeping in the scant shade, hesitated + on the curbstones before plunging into the Sahara-like waste of crossings. + The city seemed deserted. Even that vast army of contractors, speculators, + place-hunters, and lobbyists, which hung on the heels of the other army, + and had turned this pacific camp of the nation into a battlefield of + ignoble conflict and contention—more disastrous than the one to the + South—had slunk into their holes in hotel back bedrooms, in shady + barrooms, or in the negro quarters of Georgetown, as if the majestic, + white-robed Goddess enthroned upon the dome of the Capitol had at last + descended among them and was smiting to right and left with the flat and + flash of her insufferable sword. + </p> + <p> + Into this stifling atmosphere of greed and corruption Clarence Brant + stepped from the shadow of the War Department. For the last three weeks he + had haunted its ante-rooms and audience-chambers, in the vain hope of + righting himself before his superiors, who were content, without + formulating charges against him, to keep him in this disgrace of inaction + and the anxiety of suspense. Unable to ascertain the details of the + accusation, and conscious of his own secret, he was debarred the last + resort of demanding a court-martial, which he knew could only exonerate + him by the exposure of the guilt of his wife, whom he still hoped had + safely escaped. His division commander, in active operations in the field, + had no time to help him at Washington. Elbowed aside by greedy + contractors, forestalled by selfish politicians, and disdaining the + ordinary method of influence, he had no friend to turn to. In his few + years of campaigning he had lost his instinct of diplomacy, without + acquiring a soldier's bluntness. + </p> + <p> + The nearly level rays of the sun forced him at last to turn aside into one + of the openings of a large building—a famous caravansary of that + hotel-haunted capital, and he presently found himself in the luxurious + bar-room, fragrant with mint, and cool with ice-slabs piled symmetrically + on its marble counters. A few groups of men were seeking coolness at small + tables with glasses before them and palm-leaf fans in their hands, but a + larger and noisier assemblage was collected before the bar, where a man, + collarless and in his shirt-sleeves, with his back to the counter, was + pretentiously addressing them. Brant, who had moodily dropped into a chair + in the corner, after ordering a cooling drink as an excuse for his + temporary refuge from the stifling street, half-regretted his enforced + participation in their conviviality. But a sudden lowering of the + speaker's voice into a note of gloomy significance seemed familiar to him. + He glanced at him quickly, from the shadow of his corner. He was not + mistaken—it was Jim Hooker! + </p> + <p> + For the first time in his life, Brant wished to evade him. In the days of + his own prosperity his heart had always gone out towards this old + companion of his boyhood; in his present humiliation his presence jarred + upon him. He would have slipped away, but to do so he would have had to + pass before the counter again, and Hooker, with the self-consciousness of + a story-teller, had an eye on his audience. Brant, with a palm-leaf fan + before his face, was obliged to listen. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, gentlemen,” said Hooker, examining his glass dramatically, “when a + man's been cooped up in a Rebel prison, with a death line before him that + he's obliged to cross every time he wants a square drink, it seems sort of + like a dream of his boyhood to be standin' here comf'ble before his + liquor, alongside o' white men once more. And when he knows he's bin put + to all that trouble jest to save the reputation of another man, and the + secrets of a few high and mighty ones, it's almost enough to make his + liquor go agin him.” He stopped theatrically, seemed to choke emotionally + over his brandy squash, but with a pause of dramatic determination finally + dashed it down. “No, gentlemen,” he continued gloomily, “I don't say what + I'm back in Washington FOR—I don't say what I've been sayin' to + myself when I've bin picking the weevils outer my biscuits in Libby Prison—but + ef you don't see some pretty big men in the War Department obliged to + climb down in the next few days, my name ain't Jim Hooker, of Hooker, + Meacham & Co., Army Beef Contractors, and the man who saved the fight + at Gray Oaks!” + </p> + <p> + The smile of satisfaction that went around his audience—an audience + quick to seize the weakness of any performance—might have startled a + vanity less oblivious than Hooker's; but it only aroused Brant's + indignation and pity, and made his position still more intolerable. But + Hooker, scornfully expectorating a thin stream of tobacco juice against + the spittoon, remained for an instant gloomily silent. + </p> + <p> + “Tell us about the fight again,” said a smiling auditor. + </p> + <p> + Hooker looked around the room with a certain dark suspiciousness, and + then, in an affected lower voice, which his theatrical experience made + perfectly audible, went on:— + </p> + <p> + “It ain't much to speak of, and if it wasn't for the principle of the + thing, I wouldn't be talking. A man who's seen Injin fightin' don't go + much on this here West Point fightin' by rule-of-three—but that + ain't here or there! Well, I'd bin out a-scoutin'—just to help the + boys along, and I was sittin' in my wagon about daybreak, when along comes + a brigadier-general, and he looks into the wagon flap. I oughter to tell + you first, gentlemen, that every minit he was expecting an attack—but + he didn't let on a hint of it to me. 'How are you, Jim?' said he. 'How are + you, general?' said I. 'Would you mind lendin' me your coat and hat?' says + he. 'I've got a little game here with our pickets, and I don't want to be + recognized.' 'Anything to oblige, general,' said I, and with that I strips + off my coat and hat, and he peels and puts them on. 'Nearly the same + figure, Jim,' he says, lookin' at me, 'suppose you try on my things and + see.' With that he hands me his coat—full uniform, by G-d!—with + the little gold cords and laces and the epaulettes with a star, and I puts + it on—quite innocent-like. And then he says, handin' me his sword + and belt, 'Same inches round the waist, I reckon,' and I puts that on too. + 'You may as well keep 'em on till I come back,' says he, 'for it's mighty + damp and malarious at this time around the swamp.' And with that he lights + out. Well, gentlemen, I hadn't sat there five minutes before Bang! bang! + rattle! rattle! kershiz! and I hears a yell. I steps out of the wagon; + everything's quite dark, but the rattle goes on. Then along trots an + orderly, leadin' a horse. 'Mount, general,' he says, 'we're attacked—the + rear-guard's on us!'” + </p> + <p> + He paused, looked round his audience, and then in a lower voice, said + darkly,— + </p> + <p> + “I ain't a fool, an' in that minute a man's brain works at high pressure, + and I saw it all! I saw the little game of the brigadier to skunk away in + my clothes and leave me to be captured in his. But I ain't a dog neither, + and I mounted that horse, gentlemen, and lit out to where the men were + formin'! I didn't dare to speak, lest they should know me, but I waved my + sword, and by G-d! they followed me! And the next minit we was in the + thick of it. I had my hat as full of holes as that ice strainer; I had a + dozen bullets through my coat, the fringe of my epaulettes was shot away, + but I kept the boys at their work—and we stopped 'em! Stopped 'em, + gentlemen, until we heard the bugles of the rest of our division, that all + this time had been rolling that blasted rear-guard over on us! And it + saved the fight; but the next minute the Johnny Rebs made a last dash and + cut me off—and there I was—by G-d, a prisoner! Me that had + saved the fight!” + </p> + <p> + A ripple of ironical applause went round as Hooker gloomily drained his + glass, and then held up his hand in scornful deprecation. + </p> + <p> + “I said I was a prisoner, gentlemen,” he went on bitterly; “but that ain't + all! I asked to see Johnston, told him what I had done, and demanded to be + exchanged for a general officer. He said, 'You be d——d.' I + then sent word to the division commander-in-chief, and told him how I had + saved Gray Oaks when his brigadier ran away, and he said, 'You be d——d.' + I've bin 'You be d——d' from the lowest non-com. to the + commander-in-chief, and when I was at last exchanged, I was exchanged, + gentlemen, for two mules and a broken wagon. But I'm here, gentlemen—as + I was thar!” + </p> + <p> + “Why don't you see the President about it?” asked a bystander, in affected + commiseration. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Hooker stared contemptuously at the suggestion, and expectorated his + scornful dissent. + </p> + <p> + “Not much!” he said. “But I'm going to see the man that carries him and + his Cabinet in his breeches-pocket—Senator Boompointer.” + </p> + <p> + “Boompointer's a big man,” continued his auditor doubtfully. “Do you know + him?” + </p> + <p> + “Know him?” Mr. Hooker laughed a bitter, sardonic laugh. “Well, gentlemen, + I ain't the kind o' man to go in for family influence; but,” he added, + with gloomy elevation, “considering he's an intimate relation of mine, BY + MARRIAGE, I should say I did.” + </p> + <p> + Brant heard no more; the facing around of his old companion towards the + bar gave him that opportunity of escaping he had been waiting for. The + defection of Hooker and his peculiar inventions were too characteristic of + him to excite surprise, and, although they no longer awakened his + good-humored tolerance, they were powerless to affect him in his greater + trouble. Only one thing he learned—that Hooker knew nothing of his + wife being in camp as a spy—the incident would have been too + tempting to have escaped his dramatic embellishment. And the allusion to + Senator Boompointer, monstrous as it seemed in Hooker's mouth, gave him a + grim temptation. He had heard of Boompointer's wonderful power; he + believed that Susy would and could help him—Clarence—whether + she did or did not help Hooker. But the next moment he dismissed the idea, + with a flushing cheek. How low had he already sunk, even to think of it! + </p> + <p> + It had been once or twice in his mind to seek the President, and, under a + promise of secrecy, reveal a part of his story. He had heard many + anecdotes of his goodness of heart and generous tolerance of all things, + but with this was joined—so said contemporaneous history—a + flippancy of speech and a brutality of directness from which Clarence's + sensibility shrank. Would he see anything in his wife but a common spy on + his army; would he see anything in him but the weak victim, like many + others, of a scheming woman? Stories current in camp and Congress of the + way that this grim humorist had, with an apposite anecdote or a rugged + illustration, brushed away the most delicate sentiment or the subtlest + poetry, even as he had exposed the sham of Puritanic morality or of + Epicurean ethics. Brant had even solicited an audience, but had retired + awkwardly, and with his confidence unspoken, before the dark, humorous + eyes, that seemed almost too tolerant of his grievance. He had been to + levees, and his heart had sunk equally before the vulgar crowd, who seemed + to regard this man as their own buffoon, and the pompousness of position, + learning and dignity, which he seemed to delight to shake and disturb. + </p> + <p> + One afternoon, a few days later, in sheer listlessness of purpose, he + found himself again at the White House. The President was giving audience + to a deputation of fanatics, who, with a pathetic simplicity almost equal + to his own pathetic tolerance, were urging upon this ruler of millions the + policy of an insignificant score, and Brant listened to his patient, + practical response of facts and logic, clothed in simple but sinewy + English, up to the inevitable climax of humorous illustration, which the + young brigadier could now see was necessary to relieve the grimness of his + refusal. For the first time Brant felt the courage to address him, and + resolved to wait until the deputation retired. As they left the gallery he + lingered in the ante-room for the President to appear. But, as he did not + come, afraid of losing his chances, he returned to the gallery. Alone in + his privacy and shadow, the man he had just left was standing by a column, + in motionless abstraction, looking over the distant garden. But the + kindly, humorous face was almost tragic with an intensity of weariness! + Every line of those strong, rustic features was relaxed under a burden + which even the long, lank, angular figure—overgrown and unfinished + as his own West—seemed to be distorted in its efforts to adjust + itself to; while the dark, deep-set eyes were abstracted with the vague + prescience of the prophet and the martyr. Shocked at that sudden change, + Brant felt his cheek burn with shame. And he was about to break upon that + wearied man's unbending; he was about to add his petty burden to the + shoulders of this Western Atlas. He drew back silently, and descended the + stairs. + </p> + <p> + But before he had left the house, while mingling with the crowd in one of + the larger rooms, he saw the President reappear beside an important, + prosperous-looking figure, on whom the kindly giant was now smiling with + humorous toleration. He noticed the divided attention of the crowd; the + name of Senator Boompointer was upon every lip; he was nearly face to face + with that famous dispenser of place and preferment—this second + husband of Susy! An indescribable feeling—half cynical, half fateful—came + over him. He would not have been surprised to see Jim Hooker join the + throng, which now seemed to him to even dwarf the lonely central figure + that had so lately touched him! He wanted to escape it all! + </p> + <p> + But his fate brought him to the entrance at the same moment that + Boompointer was leaving it, and that distinguished man brushed hastily by + him as a gorgeous carriage, drawn by two spirited horses, and driven by a + resplendent negro coachman, dashed up. It was the Boompointer carriage. + </p> + <p> + A fashionably-dressed, pretty woman, who, in style, bearing, opulent + contentment, and ingenuous self-consciousness, was in perfect keeping with + the slight ostentation of the equipage, was its only occupant. As + Boompointer stepped into the vehicle, her blue eyes fell for an instant on + Brant. A happy, childlike pink flush came into her cheeks, and a violet + ray of recognition and mischief darted from her eyes to his. For it was + Susy. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0013" id="link2HCH0013"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER II. + </h2> + <p> + When Brant returned to his hotel there was an augmented respect in the + voice of the clerk as he handed him a note with the remark that it had + been left by Senator Boompointer's coachman. He had no difficulty in + recognizing Susy's peculiarly Brobdingnagian school-girl hand. + </p> + <p> + “Kla'uns, I call it real mean! I believe you just HOPED I wouldn't know + you. If you're a bit like your old self you'll come right off here—this + very night! I've got a big party on—but we can talk somewhere + between the acts! Haven't I growed? Tell me! And my! what a gloomy swell + the young brigadier is! The carriage will come for you—so you have + no excuse.” + </p> + <p> + The effect of this childish note upon Brant was strangely out of + proportion to its triviality. But then it was Susy's very triviality—so + expressive of her characteristic irresponsibility—which had always + affected him at such moments. Again, as at Robles, he felt it react + against his own ethics. Was she not right in her delightful materialism? + Was she not happier than if she had been consistently true to Mrs. Peyton, + to the convent, to the episode of her theatrical career, to Jim Hooker—even + to himself? And did he conscientiously believe that Hooker or himself had + suffered from her inconsistency? No! From all that he had heard, she was a + suitable helpmate to the senator, in her social attractiveness, her + charming ostentations, her engaging vanity that disarmed suspicion, and + her lack of responsibility even in her partisanship. Nobody ever dared to + hold the senator responsible for her promises, even while enjoying the + fellowship of both, and it is said that the worthy man singularly profited + by it. Looking upon the invitation as a possible distraction to his gloomy + thoughts, Brant resolved to go. + </p> + <p> + The moon was high as the carriage whirled him out of the still stifling + avenues towards the Soldiers' Home—a sylvan suburb frequented by + cabinet ministers and the President—where the good Senator had + “decreed,” like Kubla Khan, “a stately pleasure dome,” to entertain his + friends and partisans. As they approached the house, the trembling light + like fireflies through the leaves, the warm silence broken only by a + military band playing a drowsy waltz on the veranda, and the heavy odors + of jessamine in the air, thrilled Brant with a sense of shame as he + thought of his old comrades in the field. But this was presently + dissipated by the uniforms that met him in the hall, with the presence of + some of his distinguished superiors. At the head of the stairs, with a + circling background of the shining crosses and ribbons of the diplomatic + corps, stood Susy—her bare arms and neck glittering with diamonds, + her face radiant with childlike vivacity. A significant pressure of her + little glove as he made his bow seemed to be his only welcome, but a + moment later she caught his arm. “You've yet to know HIM,” she said in a + half whisper; “he thinks a good deal of himself—just like Jim. But + he makes others believe it, and that's where poor Jim slipped up.” She + paused before the man thus characteristically disposed of, and presented + Brant. It was the man he had seen before—material, capable, + dogmatic. A glance from his shrewd eyes—accustomed to the weighing + of men's weaknesses and ambitions—and a few hurried phrases, + apparently satisfied him that Brant was not just then important or + available to him, and the two men, a moment later, drifted easily apart. + Brant sauntered listlessly through the crowded rooms, half remorsefully + conscious that he had taken some irrevocable step, and none the less + assured by the presence of two or three reporters and correspondents who + were dogging his steps, or the glance of two or three pretty women whose + curiosity had evidently been aroused by the singular abstraction of this + handsome, distinguished, but sardonic-looking officer. But the next moment + he was genuinely moved. + </p> + <p> + A tall young woman had just glided into the centre of the room with an + indolent yet supple gracefulness that seemed familiar to him. A change in + her position suddenly revealed her face. It was Miss Faulkner. Previously + he had known her only in the riding habit of Confederate gray which she + had at first affected, or in the light muslin morning dress she had worn + at Gray Oaks. It seemed to him, to-night, that the studied elegance of her + full dress became her still more; that the pretty willfulness of her chin + and shoulders was chastened and modified by the pearls round her fair + throat. Suddenly their eyes met; her face paled visibly; he fancied that + she almost leaned against her companion for support; then she met his + glance again with a face into which the color had as suddenly rushed, but + with eyes that seemed to be appealing to him even to the point of pain and + fright. Brant was not conceited; he could see that the girl's agitation + was not the effect of any mere personal influence in his recognition, but + of something else. He turned hastily away; when he looked around again she + was gone. + </p> + <p> + Nevertheless he felt filled with a vague irritation. Did she think him + such a fool as to imperil her safety by openly recognizing her without her + consent? Did she think that he would dare to presume upon the service she + had done him? Or, more outrageous thought, had she heard of his disgrace, + known its cause, and feared that he would drag her into a disclosure to + save himself? No, no; she could not think that! She had perhaps regretted + what she had done in a freak of girlish chivalry; she had returned to her + old feelings and partisanship; she was only startled at meeting the single + witness of her folly. Well, she need not fear! He would as studiously + avoid her hereafter, and she should know it. And yet—yes, there was + a “yet.” For he could not forget—indeed, in the past three weeks it + had been more often before him than he cared to think—that she was + the one human being who had been capable of a great act of self-sacrifice + for him—her enemy, her accuser, the man who had scarcely treated her + civilly. He was ashamed to remember now that this thought had occurred to + him at the bedside of his wife—at the hour of her escape—even + on the fatal slope on which he had been struck down. And now this fond + illusion must go with the rest—the girl who had served him so + loyally was ashamed of it! A bitter smile crossed his face. + </p> + <p> + “Well, I don't wonder! Here are all the women asking me who is that + good-looking Mephistopheles, with the burning eyes, who is prowling around + my rooms as if searching for a victim. Why, you're smiling for all the + world like poor Jim when he used to do the Red Avenger.” + </p> + <p> + Susy's voice—and illustration—recalled him to himself. + </p> + <p> + “Furious I may be,” he said with a gentler smile, although his eyes still + glittered, “furious that I have to wait until the one woman I came to see—the + one woman I have not seen for so long, while these puppets have been + nightly dancing before her—can give me a few moments from them, to + talk of the old days.” + </p> + <p> + In his reaction he was quite sincere, although he felt a slight sense of + remorse as he saw the quick, faint color rise, as in those old days, even + through the to-night's powder of her cheek. + </p> + <p> + “That's like the old Kla'uns,” she said, with a slight pressure of his + arm, “but we will not have a chance to speak until later. When they are + nearly all gone, you'll take me to get a little refreshment, and we'll + have a chat in the conservatory. But you must drop that awfully wicked + look and make yourself generally agreeable to those women until then.” + </p> + <p> + It was, perhaps, part of this reaction which enabled him to obey his + hostess' commands with a certain recklessness that, however, seemed to be + in keeping with the previous Satanic reputation he had all unconsciously + achieved. The women listened to the cynical flippancy of this good-looking + soldier with an undisguised admiration which in turn excited curiosity and + envy from his own sex. He saw the whispered questioning, the lifted + eyebrows, scornful shrugging of shoulders—and knew that the story of + his disgrace was in the air. But I fear this only excited him to further + recklessness and triumph. Once he thought he recognized Miss Faulkner's + figure at a distance, and even fancied that she had been watching him; but + he only redoubled his attentions to the fair woman beside him, and looked + no more. + </p> + <p> + Yet he was glad when the guests began to drop off, the great rooms + thinned, and Susy, appearing on the arm of her husband, coquettishly + reminded him of his promise. + </p> + <p> + “For I want to talk to you of old times. General Brant,” she went on, + turning explanatorily to Boompointer, “married my adopted mother in + California—at Robles, a dear old place where I spent my earliest + years. So, you see, we are sort of relations by marriage,” she added, with + delightful naivete. + </p> + <p> + Hooker's own vainglorious allusion to his relations to the man before him + flashed across Brant's mind, but it left now only a smile on his lips. He + felt he had already become a part of the irresponsible comedy played + around him. Why should he resist, or examine its ethics too closely? He + offered his arm to Susy as they descended the stairs, but, instead of + pausing in the supper-room, she simply passed through it with a + significant pressure on his arm, and, drawing aside a muslin curtain, + stepped into the moonlit conservatory. Behind the curtain there was a + small rustic settee; without releasing his arm she sat down, so that when + he dropped beside her, their hands met, and mutually clasped. + </p> + <p> + “Now, Kla'uns,” she said, with a slight, comfortable shiver as she nestled + beside him, “it's a little like your chair down at old Robles, isn't it?—tell + me! And to think it's five years ago! But, Kla'uns, what's the matter? You + are changed,” she said, looking at his dark face in the moonlight, “or you + have something to tell me.” + </p> + <p> + “I have.” + </p> + <p> + “And it's something dreadful, I know!” she said, wrinkling her brows with + a pretty terror. “Couldn't you pretend you had told it to me, and let us + go on just the same? Couldn't you, Kla'uns? Tell me!” + </p> + <p> + “I am afraid I couldn't,” he said, with a sad smile. + </p> + <p> + “Is it about yourself, Kla'uns? You know,” she went on with cheerful + rapidity, “I know everything about you—I always did, you know—and + I don't care, and never did care, and it don't, and never did, make the + slightest difference to me. So don't tell it, and waste time, Kla'uns.” + </p> + <p> + “It's not about me, but about my wife!” he said slowly. + </p> + <p> + Her expression changed slightly + </p> + <p> + “Oh, her!” she said after a pause. Then, half-resignedly, “Go on, + Kla'uns.” + </p> + <p> + He began. He had a dozen times rehearsed to himself his miserable story, + always feeling it keenly, and even fearing that he might be carried away + by emotion or morbid sentiment in telling it to another. But, to his + astonishment, he found himself telling it practically, calmly, almost + cynically, to his old playmate, repressing the half devotion and even + tenderness that had governed him, from the time that his wife, disguised + as the mulatto woman, had secretly watched him at his office, to the hour + that he had passed through the lines. He withheld only the incident of + Miss Faulkner's complicity and sacrifice. + </p> + <p> + “And she got away, after having kicked you out of your place, Kla'uns?” + said Susy, when he had ended. + </p> + <p> + Clarence stiffened beside her. But he felt he had gone too far to quarrel + with his confidante. + </p> + <p> + “She went away. I honestly believe we shall never meet again, or I should + not be telling you this!” + </p> + <p> + “Kla'uns,” she said lightly, taking his hand again, “don't you believe it! + She won't let you go. You're one of those men that a woman, when she's + once hooked on to, won't let go of, even when she believes she no longer + loves him, or meets bigger and better men. I reckon it's because you're so + different from other men; maybe there are so many different things about + you to hook on to, and you don't slip off as easily as the others. Now, if + you were like old Peyton, her first husband, or like poor Jim, or even my + Boompointer, you'd be all right! No, my boy, all we can do is to try to + keep her from getting at you here. I reckon she won't trust herself in + Washington again in a hurry.” + </p> + <p> + “But I cannot stay here; my career is in the field.” + </p> + <p> + “Your career is alongside o' me, honey—and Boompointer. But nearer + ME. We'll fix all that. I heard something about your being in disgrace, + but the story was that you were sweet on some secesh girl down there, and + neglected your business, Kla'uns. But, Lordy! to think it was only your + own wife! Never mind; we'll straighten that out. We've had worse jobs than + that on. Why, there was that commissary who was buying up dead horses at + one end of the field, and selling them to the Government for mess beef at + the other; and there was that general who wouldn't make an attack when it + rained; and the other general—you know who I mean, Kla'uns—who + wouldn't invade the State where his sister lived; but we straightened them + out, somehow, and they were a heap worse than you. We'll get you a + position in the war department here, one of the bureau offices, where you + keep your rank and your uniform—you don't look bad in it, Kla'uns—on + better pay. And you'll come and see me, and we'll talk over old times.” + </p> + <p> + Brant felt his heart turn sick within him. But he was at her mercy now! He + said, with an effort,— + </p> + <p> + “But I've told you that my career—nay, my LIFE—now is in the + field.” + </p> + <p> + “Don't you be a fool, Kla'uns, and leave it there! You have done your work + of fighting—mighty good fighting, too,—and everybody knows it. + You've earned a change. Let others take your place.” + </p> + <p> + He shuddered, as he remembered that his wife had made the same appeal. Was + he a fool then, and these two women—so totally unlike in everything—right + in this? + </p> + <p> + “Come, Kla'uns,” said Susy, relapsing again against his shoulder. “Now + talk to me! You don't say what you think of me, of my home, of my + furniture, of my position—even of him! Tell me!” + </p> + <p> + “I find you well, prosperous, and happy,” he said, with a faint smile. + </p> + <p> + “Is that all? And how do I look?” + </p> + <p> + She turned her still youthful, mischievous face towards him in the + moonlight. The witchery of her blue eyes was still there as of old, the + same frank irresponsibility beamed from them; her parted lips seemed to + give him back the breath of his youth. He started, but she did not. + </p> + <p> + “Susy, dear!” + </p> + <p> + It was her husband's voice. + </p> + <p> + “I quite forgot,” the Senator went on, as he drew the curtain aside, “that + you are engaged with a friend; but Miss Faulkner is waiting to say + good-night, and I volunteered to find you.” + </p> + <p> + “Tell her to wait a moment,” said Susy, with an impatience that was as + undisguised as it was without embarrassment or confusion. + </p> + <p> + But Miss Faulkner, unconsciously following Mr. Boompointer, was already + upon them. For a moment the whole four were silent, although perfectly + composed. Senator Boompointer, unconscious of any infelicity in his + interruption, was calmly waiting. Clarence, opposed suddenly to the young + girl whom he believed was avoiding his recognition, rose, coldly + imperturbable. Miss Faulkner, looking taller and more erect in the long + folds of her satin cloak, neither paled nor blushed, as she regarded Susy + and Brant with a smile of well-bred apology. + </p> + <p> + “I expect to leave Washington to-morrow, and may not be able to call + again,” she said, “or I would not have so particularly pressed a + leave-taking upon you.” + </p> + <p> + “I was talking with my old friend, General Brant,” said Susy, more by way + of introduction than apology. + </p> + <p> + Brant bowed. For an instant the clear eyes of Miss Faulkner slipped icily + across his as she made him an old-fashioned Southern courtesy, and, taking + Susy's arm, she left the room. Brant did not linger, but took leave of his + host almost in the same breath. At the front door a well-appointed + carriage of one of the Legations had just rolled into waiting. He looked + back; he saw Miss Faulkner, erect and looking like a bride in her gauzy + draperies, descending the stairs before the waiting servants. He felt his + heart beat strangely. He hesitated, recalled himself with an effort, + hurriedly stepped from the porch into the path, as he heard the carriage + door close behind him in the distance, and then felt the dust from her + horse's hoofs rise around him as she drove past him and away. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0014" id="link2HCH0014"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER III. + </h2> + <p> + Although Brant was convinced as soon as he left the house that he could + not accept anything from the Boompointer influence, and that his interview + with Susy was fruitless, he knew that he must temporize. While he did not + believe that his old playmate would willingly betray him, he was uneasy + when he thought of the vanity and impulsiveness which might compromise him—or + of a possible jealousy that might seek revenge. Yet he had no reason to + believe that Susy's nature was jealous, or that she was likely to have any + cause; but the fact remained that Miss Faulkner's innocent intrusion upon + their tete-a-tete affected him more strongly than anything else in his + interview with Susy. Once out of the atmosphere of that house, it struck + him, too, that Miss Faulkner was almost as much of an alien in it as + himself. He wondered what she had been doing there. Could it be possible + that she was obtaining information for the South? But he rejected the idea + as quickly as it had occurred to him. Perhaps there could be no stronger + proof of the unconscious influence the young girl already had over him. + </p> + <p> + He remembered the liveries of the diplomatic carriage that had borne her + away, and ascertained without difficulty that her sister had married one + of the foreign ministers, and that she was a guest in his house. But he + was the more astonished to hear that she and her sister were considered to + be Southern Unionists—and were greatly petted in governmental + circles for their sacrificing fidelity to the flag. His informant, an + official in the State Department, added that Miss Matilda might have been + a good deal of a madcap at the outbreak of the war—for the sisters + had a brother in the Confederate service—but that she had changed + greatly, and, indeed, within a month. “For,” he added, “she was at the + White House for the first time last week, and they say the President + talked more to her than to any other woman.” + </p> + <p> + The indescribable sensation with which this simple information filled + Brant startled him more than the news itself. Hope, joy, fear, distrust, + and despair, alternately distracted him. He recalled Miss Faulkner's + almost agonizing glance of appeal to him in the drawing-room at Susy's, + and it seemed to be equally consistent with the truth of what he had just + heard—or some monstrous treachery and deceit of which she might be + capable. Even now she might be a secret emissary of some spy within the + President's family; she might have been in correspondence with some + traitor in the Boompointer clique, and her imploring glance only the + result of a fear of exposure. Or, again, she might have truly recanted + after her escapade at Gray Oaks, and feared only his recollection of her + as go-between of spies. And yet both of these presumptions were + inconsistent with her conduct in the conservatory. It seemed impossible + that this impulsive woman, capable of doing what he had himself known her + to do, and equally sensitive to the shame or joy of such impulses, should + be the same conventional woman of society who had so coldly recognized and + parted from him. + </p> + <p> + But this interval of doubt was transitory. The next day he received a + dispatch from the War Department, ordering him to report himself for duty + at once. With a beating heart he hurried to the Secretary. But that + official had merely left a memorandum with his assistant directing General + Brant to accompany some fresh levies to a camp of “organization” near the + front. Brant felt a chill of disappointment. Duties of this kind had been + left to dubious regular army veterans, hurriedly displaced general + officers, and favored detrimentals. But if it was not restoration, it was + no longer inaction, and it was at least a release from Washington. + </p> + <p> + It was also evidently the result of some influence—but hardly that + of the Boompointers, for he knew that Susy wished to keep him at the + Capital. Was there another power at work to send him away from Washington? + His previous doubts returned. Nor were they dissipated when the chief of + the bureau placed a letter before him with the remark that it had been + entrusted to him by a lady with the request that it should be delivered + only into his own hands. + </p> + <p> + “She did not know your hotel address, but ascertained you were to call + here. She said it was of some importance. There is no mystery about it, + General,” continued the official with a mischievous glance at Brant's + handsome, perplexed face, “although it's from a very pretty woman—whom + we all know.” + </p> + <p> + “Mrs. Boompointer?” suggested Brant, with affected lightness. + </p> + <p> + It was a maladroit speech. The official's face darkened. + </p> + <p> + “We have not yet become a Postal Department for the Boompointers, + General,” he said dryly, “however great their influence elsewhere. It was + from rather a different style of woman—Miss Faulkner. You will + receive your papers later at your hotel, and leave to-night.” + </p> + <p> + Brant's unlucky slip was still potent enough to divert the official + attention, or he would have noticed the change in his visitor's face, and + the abruptness of his departure. + </p> + <p> + Once in the street, Brant tore off the envelope. But beneath it was + another, on which was written in a delicate, refined hand: “Please do not + open this until you reach your destination.” + </p> + <p> + Then she knew he was going! And perhaps this was her influence? All his + suspicions again returned. She knew he was going near the lines, and his + very appointment, through her power, might be a plot to serve her and the + enemy! Was this letter, which she was entrusting to him, the cover of some + missive to her Southern friends which she expected him to carry—perhaps + as a return for her own act of self-sacrifice? Was this the appeal she had + been making to his chivalry, his gratitude, his honor? The perspiration + stood in beads on his forehead. What defect lay hidden in his nature that + seemed to make him an easy victim of these intriguing women? He had not + even the excuse of gallantry; less susceptible to the potencies of the sex + than most men, he was still compelled to bear that reputation. He + remembered his coldness to Miss Faulkner in the first days of their + meeting, and her effect upon his subalterns. Why had she selected him from + among them—when she could have modeled the others like wax to her + purposes? Why? And yet with the question came a possible answer that he + hardly dared to think of—that in its very vagueness seemed to fill + him with a stimulating thrill and hopefulness. He quickened his pace. He + would take the letter, and yet be master of himself when the time came to + open it. + </p> + <p> + That time came three days later, in his tent at Three Pines Crossing. As + he broke open the envelope, he was relieved to find that it contained no + other inclosure, and seemed intended only for himself. It began abruptly:— + </p> + <p> + “When you read this, you will understand why I did not speak to you when + we met last night; why I even dreaded that you might speak to me, knowing, + as I did, what I ought to tell you at that place and moment—something + you could only know from me. I did not know you were in Washington, + although I knew you were relieved; I had no way of seeing you or sending + to you before, and I only came to Mrs. Boompointer's party in the hope of + hearing news of you. + </p> + <p> + “You know that my brother was captured by your pickets in company with + another officer. He thinks you suspected the truth—that he and his + friend were hovering near your lines to effect the escape of the spy. But + he says that, although they failed to help her, she did escape, or was + passed through the lines by your connivance. He says that you seemed to + know her, that from what Rose—the mulatto woman—told him, you + and she were evidently old friends. I would not speak of this, nor intrude + upon your private affairs, only that I think you ought to know that I had + no knowledge of it when I was in your house, but believed her to be a + stranger to you. You gave me no intimation that you knew her, and I + believed that you were frank with me. But I should not speak of this at + all—for I believe that it would have made no difference to me in + repairing the wrong that I thought I had done you—only that, as I am + forced by circumstances to tell you the terrible ending of this story, you + ought to know it all. + </p> + <p> + “My brother wrote to me that the evening after you left, the burying party + picked up the body of what they believed to be a mulatto woman lying on + the slope. It was not Rose, but the body of the very woman—the real + and only spy—whom you had passed through the lines. She was + accidentally killed by the Confederates in the first attack upon you, at + daybreak. But only my brother and his friend recognized her through her + blackened face and disguise, and on the plea that she was a servant of one + of their friends, they got permission from the division commander to take + her away, and she was buried by her friends and among her people in the + little cemetery of Three Pines Crossing, not far from where you have gone. + My brother thought that I ought to tell you this: it seems that he and his + friend had a strange sympathy for you in what they appear to know or guess + of your relations with that woman, and I think he was touched by what he + thought was your kindness and chivalry to him on account of his sister. + But I do not think he ever knew, or will know, how great is the task that + he has imposed upon me. + </p> + <p> + “You know now, do you not, WHY I did not speak to you when we first met; + it seemed so impossible to do it in an atmosphere and a festivity that was + so incongruous with the dreadful message I was charged with. And when I + had to meet you later—perhaps I may have wronged you—but it + seemed to me that you were so preoccupied and interested with other things + that I might perhaps only be wearying you with something you cared little + for, or perhaps already knew and had quickly forgotten. + </p> + <p> + “I had been wanting to say something else to you when I had got rid of my + dreadful message. I do not know if you still care to hear it. But you were + once generous enough to think that I had done you a service in bringing a + letter to your commander. Although I know better than anybody else the + genuine devotion to your duty that made you accept my poor service, from + all that I can hear, you have never had the credit of it. Will you not try + me again? I am more in favor here, and I might yet be more successful in + showing your superiors how true you have been to your trust, even if you + have little faith in your friend, Matilda Faulkner.” + </p> + <p> + For a long time he remained motionless, with the letter in his hand. Then + he arose, ordered his horse, and galloped away. + </p> + <p> + There was little difficulty in finding the cemetery of Three Pines + Crossing—a hillside slope, hearsed with pine and cypress, and + starred with white crosses, that in the distance looked like flowers. + Still less was there in finding the newer marble shaft among the older + lichen-spotted slabs, which bore the simple words: “Alice Benham, Martyr.” + A few Confederate soldiers, under still plainer and newer wooden + headstones, carved only with initials, lay at her feet. Brant sank on his + knees beside the grave, but he was shocked to see that the base of the + marble was stained with the red pollen of the fateful lily, whose blossoms + had been heaped upon her mound, but whose fallen petals lay dark and + sodden in decay. + </p> + <p> + How long he remained there he did not know. And then a solitary bugle from + the camp seemed to summon him, as it had once before summoned him, and he + went away—as he had gone before—to a separation that he now + knew was for all time. + </p> + <p> + Then followed a month of superintendence and drill, and the infusing into + the little camp under his instruction the spirit which seemed to be + passing out of his own life forever. Shut in by alien hills on the + borderland of the great struggle, from time to time reports reached him of + the bitter fighting, and almost disastrous successes of his old division + commander. Orders came from Washington to hurry the preparation of his raw + levies to the field, and a faint hope sprang up in his mind. But following + it came another dispatch ordering his return to the Capital. + </p> + <p> + He reached it with neither hope nor fear—so benumbed had become his + spirit under this last trial, and what seemed to be now the mockery of + this last sacrifice to his wife. Though it was no longer a question of her + life and safety, he knew that he could still preserve her memory from + stain by keeping her secret, even though its divulgings might clear his + own. For that reason, he had even hesitated to inform Susy of her death, + in the fear that, in her thoughtless irresponsibility and impulsiveness, + she might be tempted to use it in his favor. He had made his late + appointment a plea for her withholding any present efforts to assist him. + He even avoided the Boompointers' house, in what he believed was partly a + duty to the memory of his wife. But he saw no inconsistency in + occasionally extending his lonely walks to the vicinity of a foreign + Legation, or in being lifted with a certain expectation at the sight of + its liveries on the Avenue. There was a craving for sympathy in his heart, + which Miss Faulkner's letter had awakened. + </p> + <p> + Meantime, he had reported himself for duty at the War Department—with + little hope, however, in that formality. But he was surprised the next day + when the chief of the bureau informed him that his claim was before the + President. + </p> + <p> + “I was not aware that I had presented any claim,” he said, a little + haughtily. + </p> + <p> + The bureau chief looked up with some surprise. This quiet, patient, + reserved man had puzzled him once or twice before. + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps I should say 'case,' General,” he said, drily. “But the personal + interest of the highest executive in the land strikes me as being + desirable in anything.” + </p> + <p> + “I only mean that I have obeyed the orders of the department in reporting + myself here, as I have done,” said Brant, with less feeling, but none the + less firmness; “and I should imagine it was not the duty of a soldier to + question them. Which I fancy a 'claim' or a 'case' would imply.” + </p> + <p> + He had no idea of taking this attitude before, but the disappointments of + the past month, added to this first official notice of his disgrace, had + brought forward that dogged, reckless, yet half-scornful obstinacy that + was part of his nature. + </p> + <p> + The official smiled. + </p> + <p> + “I suppose, then, you are waiting to hear from the President,” he said + drily. + </p> + <p> + “I am awaiting orders from the department,” returned Brant quietly, “but + whether they originate in the President as commander-in-chief, or not—it + is not for me to inquire.” + </p> + <p> + Even when he reached his hotel this half-savage indifference which had + taken the place of his former incertitude had not changed. It seemed to + him that he had reached the crisis of his life where he was no longer a + free agent, and could wait, superior alike to effort or expectation. And + it was with a merely dispassionate curiosity that he found a note the next + morning from the President's private secretary, informing him that the + President would see him early that day. + </p> + <p> + A few hours later he was ushered through the public rooms of the White + House to a more secluded part of the household. The messenger stopped + before a modest door and knocked. It was opened by a tall figure—the + President himself. He reached out a long arm to Brant, who stood + hesitatingly on the threshold, grasped his hand, and led him into the + room. It had a single, large, elaborately draped window and a handsome + medallioned carpet, which contrasted with the otherwise almost appalling + simplicity of the furniture. A single plain angular desk, with a blotting + pad and a few sheets of large foolscap upon it, a waste-paper basket and + four plain armchairs, completed the interior with a contrast as simple and + homely as its long-limbed, black-coated occupant. Releasing the hand of + the general to shut a door which opened into another apartment, the + President shoved an armchair towards him and sank somewhat wearily into + another before the desk. But only for a moment; the long shambling limbs + did not seem to adjust themselves easily to the chair; the high narrow + shoulders drooped to find a more comfortable lounging attitude, shifted + from side to side, and the long legs moved dispersedly. Yet the face that + was turned towards Brant was humorous and tranquil. + </p> + <p> + “I was told I should have to send for you if I wished to see you,” he said + smilingly. + </p> + <p> + Already mollified, and perhaps again falling under the previous influence + of this singular man, Brant began somewhat hesitatingly to explain. + </p> + <p> + But the President checked him gently,— + </p> + <p> + “You don't understand. It was something new to my experience here to find + an able-bodied American citizen with an honest genuine grievance who had + to have it drawn from him like a decayed tooth. But you have been here + before. I seem to remember your face.” + </p> + <p> + Brant's reserve had gone. He admitted that he had twice sought an audience—but— + </p> + <p> + “You dodged the dentist! That was wrong.” As Brant made a slight movement + of deprecation the President continued: “I understand! Not from fear of + giving pain to yourself but to others. I don't know that THAT is right, + either. A certain amount of pain must be suffered in this world—even + by one's enemies. Well, I have looked into your case, General Brant.” He + took up a piece of paper from his desk, scrawled with two or three notes + in pencil. “I think this is the way it stands. You were commanding a + position at Gray Oaks when information was received by the department + that, either through neglect or complicity, spies were passing through + your lines. There was no attempt to prove your neglect; your orders, the + facts of your personal care and precaution, were all before the + department. But it was also shown that your wife, from whom you were only + temporarily separated, was a notorious secessionist; that, before the war, + you yourself were suspected, and that, therefore, you were quite capable + of evading your own orders, which you may have only given as a blind. On + this information you were relieved by the department of your command. + Later on it was discovered that the spy was none other than your own wife, + disguised as a mulatto; that, after her arrest by your own soldiers, you + connived at her escape—and this was considered conclusive proof of—well, + let us say—your treachery.” + </p> + <p> + “But I did not know it was my wife until she was arrested,” said Brant + impulsively. + </p> + <p> + The President knitted his eyebrows humorously. + </p> + <p> + “Don't let us travel out of the record, General. You're as bad as the + department. The question was one of your personal treachery, but you need + not accept the fact that you were justly removed because your wife was a + spy. Now, General, I am an old lawyer, and I don't mind telling you that + in Illinois we wouldn't hang a yellow dog on that evidence before the + department. But when I was asked to look into the matter by your friends, + I discovered something of more importance to you. I had been trying to + find a scrap of evidence that would justify the presumption that you had + sent information to the enemy. I found that it was based upon the fact of + the enemy being in possession of knowledge at the first battle at Gray + Oaks, which could only have been obtained from our side, and which led to + a Federal disaster; that you, however, retrieved by your gallantry. I then + asked the secretary if he was prepared to show that you had sent the + information with that view, or that you had been overtaken by a tardy + sense of repentance. He preferred to consider my suggestion as humorous. + But the inquiry led to my further discovery that the only treasonable + correspondence actually in evidence was found upon the body of a trusted + Federal officer, and had been forwarded to the division commander. But + there was no record of it in the case.” + </p> + <p> + “Why, I forwarded it myself,” said Brant eagerly. + </p> + <p> + “So the division commander writes,” said the President, smiling, “and he + forwarded it to the department. But it was suppressed in some way. Have + you any enemies, General Brant?” + </p> + <p> + “Not that I know of.” + </p> + <p> + “Then you probably have. You are young and successful. Think of the + hundred other officers who naturally believe themselves better than you + are, and haven't a traitorous wife. Still, the department may have made an + example of you for the benefit of the only man who couldn't profit by it.” + </p> + <p> + “Might it not have been, sir, that this suppression was for the good + report of the service—as the chief offender was dead?” + </p> + <p> + “I am glad to hear you say so, General, for it is the argument I have used + successfully in behalf of your wife.” + </p> + <p> + “Then you know it all, sir?” said Brant after a gloomy pause. + </p> + <p> + “All, I think. Come, General, you seemed just now to be uncertain about + your enemies. Let me assure you, you need not be so in regard to your + friends.” + </p> + <p> + “I dare to hope I have found one, sir,” said Brant with almost boyish + timidity. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, not me!” said the President, with a laugh of deprecation. “Some one + much more potent.” + </p> + <p> + “May I know his name, Mr. President?” + </p> + <p> + “No, for it is a woman. You were nearly ruined by one, General. I suppose + it's quite right that you should be saved by one. And, of course, + irregularly.” + </p> + <p> + “A woman!” echoed Brant. + </p> + <p> + “Yes; one who was willing to confess herself a worse spy than your wife—a + double traitor—to save you! Upon my word, General, I don't know if + the department was far wrong; a man with such an alternately unsettling + and convincing effect upon a woman's highest political convictions should + be under some restraint. Luckily the department knows nothing of it.” + </p> + <p> + “Nor would any one else have known from me,” said Brant eagerly. “I trust + that she did not think—that you, sir, did not for an instant believe + that I”— + </p> + <p> + “Oh dear, no! Nobody would have believed you! It was her free confidence + to me. That was what made the affair so difficult to handle. For even her + bringing your dispatch to the division commander looked bad for you; and + you know he even doubted its authenticity.” + </p> + <p> + “Does she—does Miss Faulkner know the spy was my wife?” hesitated + Brant. + </p> + <p> + The President twisted himself in his chair, so as to regard Brant more + gravely with his deep-set eyes, and then thoughtfully rubbed his leg. + </p> + <p> + “Don't let us travel out of the record, General,” he said after a pause. + But as the color surged into Brant's cheek he raised his eyes to the + ceiling, and said, in half-humorous recollection,— + </p> + <p> + “No, I think THAT fact was first gathered from your other friend—Mr. + Hooker.” + </p> + <p> + “Hooker!” said Brant, indignantly; “did he come here?” + </p> + <p> + “Pray don't destroy my faith in Mr. Hooker, General,” said the President, + in half-weary, half-humorous deprecation. “Don't tell me that any of his + inventions are TRUE! Leave me at least that magnificent liar—the one + perfectly intelligible witness you have. For from the time that he first + appeared here with a grievance and a claim for a commission, he has been + an unspeakable joy to me and a convincing testimony to you. Other + witnesses have been partisans and prejudiced; Mr. Hooker was frankly true + to himself. How else should I have known of the care you took to disguise + yourself, save the honor of your uniform, and run the risk of being shot + as an unknown spy at your wife's side, except from his magnificent version + of HIS part in it? How else should I have known the story of your + discovery of the Californian conspiracy, except from his supreme portrayal + of it, with himself as the hero? No, you must not forget to thank Mr. + Hooker when you meet him. Miss Faulkner is at present more accessible; she + is calling on some members of my family in the next room. Shall I leave + you with her?” + </p> + <p> + Brant rose with a pale face and a quickly throbbing heart as the + President, glancing at the clock, untwisted himself from the chair, and + shook himself out full length, and rose gradually to his feet. + </p> + <p> + “Your wish for active service is granted, General Brant,” he said slowly, + “and you will at once rejoin your old division commander, who is now at + the head of the Tenth Army Corps. But,” he said, after a deliberate pause, + “there are certain rules and regulations of your service that even I + cannot, with decent respect to your department, override. You will, + therefore, understand that you cannot rejoin the army in your former + position.” + </p> + <p> + The slight flush that came to Brant's cheek quickly passed. And there was + only the unmistakable sparkle of renewed youth in his frank eyes as he + said— + </p> + <p> + “Let me go to the front again, Mr. President, and I care not HOW.” + </p> + <p> + The President smiled, and, laying his heavy hand on Brant's shoulder, + pushed him gently towards the door of the inner room. + </p> + <p> + “I was only about to say,” he added, as he opened the door, “that it would + be necessary for you to rejoin your promoted commander as a major-general. + And,” he continued, lifting his voice, as he gently pushed his guest into + the room, “he hasn't even thanked me for it, Miss Faulkner!” + </p> + <p> + The door closed behind him, and he stood for a moment dazed, and still + hearing the distant voice of the President, in the room he had just + quitted, now welcoming a new visitor. But the room before him, opening + into a conservatory, was empty, save for a single figure that turned, half + timidly, half mischievously, towards him. The same quick, sympathetic + glance was in both their faces; the same timid, happy look in both their + eyes. He moved quickly to her side. + </p> + <p> + “Then you knew that—that—woman was my wife?” he said, + hurriedly, as he grasped her hand. + </p> + <p> + She cast a half-appealing look at his face—a half-frightened one + around the room and at the open door beyond. + </p> + <p> + “Let us,” she said faintly, “go into the conservatory.” + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + It is but a few years ago that the veracious chronicler of these pages + moved with a wondering crowd of sightseers in the gardens of the White + House. The war cloud had long since lifted and vanished; the Potomac + flowed peacefully by and on to where once lay the broad plantation of a + great Confederate leader—now a national cemetery that had gathered + the soldier dead of both sections side by side in equal rest and honor—and + the great goddess once more looked down serenely from the dome of the + white Capitol. The chronicler's attention was attracted by an erect, + handsome soldierly-looking man, with a beard and moustache slightly + streaked with gray, pointing out the various objects of interest to a boy + of twelve or fourteen at his side. + </p> + <p> + “Yes; although, as I told you, this house belongs only to the President of + the United States and his family,” said the gentleman, smilingly, “in that + little conservatory I proposed to your mother.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! Clarence, how can you!” said the lady, reprovingly, “you know it was + LONG after that!” + </p> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Clarence, by Bret Harte + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK CLARENCE *** + +***** This file should be named 2635-h.htm or 2635-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/2/6/3/2635/ + +Produced by Donald Lainson; David Widger + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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