Part 60 (2/2)
”I'll risk it,” he answered, with a sneer.
”Great G.o.d!” Ben cried beneath his breath. ”The old fool has entrapped his son in the net he spread for me!”
CHAPTER VIII
A RIDE FOR A LIFE
When Ben Cameron failed to find either Elsie or her father at home, he hurried to the hotel, walking under the shadows of the trees to avoid recognition, though his resemblance to Phil would have enabled him to pa.s.s in his hat and coat unchallenged by any save the keenest observers.
He found his mother's bedroom door ajar and saw Elsie within, sobbing in her arms. He paused, watched, and listened.
Never had he seen his mother so beautiful--her face calm, intelligent, and vital, crowned with a halo of gray. She stood, flushed and dignified, softly smoothing the golden hair of the sobbing girl whom she had learned to love as her daughter. Her whole being reflected the years of homage she had inspired in husband, children, and neighbours. What a woman! She had made war inevitable, fought it to the bitter end; and in the despair of a negro reign of terror, still the prophetess and high priestess of a people, serene, undismayed, and defiant, she had fitted the uniform of a Grand Dragon on her last son, and sewed in secret day and night to equip his men. And through it all she was without affectation, her sweet motherly ways, gentle manner and bearing always resistless to those who came within her influence.
”If he dies,” cried the tearful voice, ”I shall never forgive myself for not surrendering without reserve and fighting his battles with him!”
”He is not dead yet,” was the mother's firm answer. ”Doctor Cameron is on Queen's back. Your lover's men will be riding to-night--these young dare-devil Knights of the South, with their life in their hands, a song on their lips, and the scorn of death in their souls!”
”Then I'll ride with them,” cried the girl, suddenly lifting her head.
Ben stepped into the room, and with a cry of joy Elsie sprang into his arms. The mother stood silent until their lips met in the long tender kiss of the last surrender of perfect love.
”How did you escape so soon?” she asked quietly, while Elsie's head still lay on his breast.
”Phil shot the brute, and I rushed him out of town. He heard the news, returned on the special, took my place, and sent me for his father. The guard has been changed and it's impossible to see him, or communicate with the new Commandant----”
Elsie started and turned pale.
”And father has hidden to avoid me--merciful G.o.d--if Phil is executed----”
”He isn't dead yet, either,” said Ben, slipping his arm around her. ”But we must save him without a clash or a drop of bloodshed, if possible. The fate of our people may hang on this. A battle with United States troops now might mean ruin for the South----”
”But you will save him?” Elsie pleaded, looking into his face.
”Yes--or I'll go down with him,” was the steady answer.
”Where is Margaret?” he asked.
”Gone to McAllister's with a message from your father,” Mrs. Cameron replied,
”Tell her when she returns to keep a steady nerve. I'll save Phil. Send her to find her father. Tell him to hold five hundred men ready for action in the woods by the river and the rest in reserve two miles out of town----”
”May I go with her?” Elsie asked eagerly.
”No. I may need you,” he said. ”I am going to find the old statesman now, if I have to drag the bottomless pit. Wait here until I return.”
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