Part 39 (1/2)
She raised a strong young voice. ”Help! Help! Stop, please! O soldiers!
Soldiers! Help! Soldiers! There! I've made them hear and waked the baby!”
”Won't you let me go, ma'am? I didn't mean no harm.”
”No more did the Indian great-grandmother killed when he broke in the door! You're a coward and a deserter, and the South don't need you! Bye, bye, baby--bye, bye!”
A hand tried the door. ”What's the matter here? Open!”
”It's locked, sir. Come round to the window--Bye, baby, bye!”
The dismounted cavalryman--an officer--appeared outside the open window. His eyes rested a moment upon the interior; then he put hands upon the sill and swung himself up and into the room.
”What's all this? Has this soldier annoyed you, madam?”
The girl set down the musket and took up the baby. ”I'm downright glad somebody came, sir. He's a coward and a deserter and a drunkard and a frightener of women! He says he's had pneumonia, and I don't believe him. If I was the South I'd send every man like him right across Mason and Dixon as fast as they'd take them!--I reckon he's my prisoner, sir, and I give him up to you.”
The officer smiled. ”I'm not the provost, but I'll rid you of him somehow.” He wiped the dust from his face. ”Have you anything at all that we could eat? My men and I have had nothing since midnight.”
”That coward's eaten all I had, sir. I'm sorry--If you could wait a little, I've some flour and I'll make a pan of biscuits--”
”No. We cannot wait. We must be up with the army before it strikes the Valley pike.”
”I've got some cold potatoes, and some sc.r.a.ps of bread crust I was saving for the chickens--”
”Then won't you take both to the four men out there? Hungry soldiers _like_ cold potatoes and bread crusts. I'll see to this fellow.--Now, sir, what have you got to say for yourself?”
”Major, my feet are so sore, and I was kind of light-headed! First thing I knew, I just somehow got separated from the brigade--”
”We'll try to find it again for you. What were you doing here?”
”Major, I just asked her for a little licker. And, being light-headed, maybe I happened to say something or other that she took up notions about. The first thing I knew--and I just as innocent as her baby--she up and turned my own musket against me--”
”Who locked the door?”
”Why--why--”
”Take the key out of your pocket and go open it. Faugh!--What's your brigade?”
”The Stonewall, sir.”
”Humph! They'd better stone you out of it. Regiment?”
”65th, sir. Company A.--If you'd be so good just to look at my foot, sir, you'd see for yourself that I couldn't march--”
”We'll try it with the Rogue's March.--65th. Company A. Richard Cleave's old company.”
”He ain't my best witness, sir. He's got a grudge against me--”
Stafford looked at him. ”Don't put yourself in a fury over it. Have you one against him?”
”I have,” said Steve, ”and I don't care who knows it! If he was as steady against you, sir, as he has proved himself against me--”