Part 46 (1/2)

Even McVeigh felt sorry for his humiliation, knowing how thoroughly honest he was, how devoted to the cause; and Mrs. McVeigh was disconsolate over ”loyal, blundering Phil Masterson,” whom, she could not hope, would remain for the party after what had occurred, and she feared Judithe would keep to her room--who could blame her? Such a scene was enough to prostrate any woman.

But it did not prostrate Judithe. She sent for Mrs. McVeigh, to tell her there must on no account be further hostilities between Colonel McVeigh and Captain Masterson.

”It was all a mistake,” she insisted. ”Captain Masterson no doubt only did his duty when presented with the statements of the secret service man; that the statements were incorrect was something Captain Masterson could not, of course, know, and she appreciated the fact that, being a foreigner, she was, in his opinion, possibly, more likely to be imposed upon by servants who were not so loyal to the South as she herself was known to be.”

All this she said in kindly excuse, and Mrs. McVeigh thought her the most magnanimous creature alive.

Her only anxiety over the entire affair appeared to be concerning her maid Louise, who, also, was suffering the suspicion attaching to foreigners who were non-residents; it was all very ridiculous, of course, but would necessitate her going personally to Savannah. She could not leave so faithful a creature in danger.

Mrs. McVeigh prevailed upon her to send word with Mr. Pierson to the authorities, and remain herself for two days longer--until Kenneth and his men left for the front, which Judithe consented to do.

Masterson, who for the first time in his life found the McVeighs lacking in cordiality to him (Evilena, even, disposed to look on him as dead and buried so far as she was concerned), felt his loyal heart go out to Gertrude, who was the only one of them all who frankly approved, and who was plainly distressed at the idea of him going at once to join his company.

”Don't go, Phil,” she said, earnestly; ”something is wrong here--terribly wrong; I can't accuse anyone in particular--I can't even guess what it really means, but, Phil,” and she glanced around her cautiously before putting the question, ”What possible reason could Madame Caron and Captain Monroe have for pretending they met here as strangers, when it was not a fact?”

Whereupon Gertrude told him of her discovery in that direction.

”I can't, of course, mention it to Kenneth or Mrs. McVeigh, now,” she whispered; ”they are so infatuated with her, Kenneth in particular.

But I do hope you will put aside your personal feelings; make any and every sort of apology necessary, but remain right here until you see what it all means. You may prove in the end that you were not entirely mistaken today. What do you think of it?”

Think! His thoughts were in a whirl. If Madame Caron and Captain Monroe were secretly friends it altered the whole affair. Monroe, whose conduct on arrest was unusual; who had a parole which might, or might not, be genuine; who had come there as by accident just in time to meet Pierson; who had been in the room alone with Pierson before Madame Caron came down the stairs--he knew, for he had been in sight when she crossed the hall.

He had been a fool--right in theory, but wrong as to the individual.

He would remain at the Terrace, and he would start on a new trail!

Mrs. McVeigh was very glad he would remain; she believed implicitly in his profound regret, and had dreaded lest the question be recalled between the two men after they had gone to the front; but, if Phil remained their guest, she hoped the old social relations would be completely restored, and she warned Evilena to be less outspoken in regard to her own opinions.

So, Captain Masterson remained, and remained to such purpose that during the brief hour of Mr. Pierson's stay he was watched very closely, and the watcher was disappointed that no attempt was made at a private interview with Captain Monroe, who very plainly (Masterson thought, ostentatiously) showed himself in a rather unsocial mood, walking thoughtfully alone on the lawn, and making no attempt to speak, even with Madame Caron.

Pierson had a brief interview with her, rendered the more brief that he was conscious of Masterson's orderly lounging outside the window, but plainly within hearing, and the presence of Mrs. McVeigh, who was all interest and sympathy concerning Louise.

When he said: ”Don't be at all disturbed over the work to be done, Madame; there is plenty of time in which to complete everything,” the others present supposed, of course, he referred to the repairs on the yacht; and when he said, in reply to her admonitions, ”No fear of me losing the road again, I shall arrive tonight,” they supposed, of course, he referred to his arrival at the coast. Judithe knew better; she knew it meant his return, and more hours of uncertainty for her.

Colonel McVeigh helped to keep those hours from dragging by following up his love-making with a proposal of marriage, which she neither accepted or declined, but which gave her additional food for thought.

All the day Pluto brooded over that scene in the library. He was oppressed by the dread of harm to Madame Caron if some one did not at once acquaint her with the fact that the real spy was Madame's maid, who had fled for fear of recognition by the Lorings. He had been curious as to what motive had been strong enough to bring her back to the locality so dangerous to her freedom. He was puzzled no longer--he knew.

But, how to tell Madame Caron? How could a n.i.g.g.e.r tell a white lady that story of Rhoda and Rhoda's mother? And if part was told, all must be told. He thought of telling Dr. Delaven, who already knew the history of Margeret, but Dr. Delaven was a friend to the Lorings, and how was a n.i.g.g.e.r to know what a white man's honor would exact that he do in such a case? And Pluto was afraid to ask it.

Instinctively his trust turned to the blue uniformed ”Link.u.m soldier.”

No danger of him telling the story of the runaway slave to the wrong person. And he was Madame Caron's friend. Pluto had noted how he stepped beside her when Masterson brought his accusation against her, or her agent, Pierson. Monroe had been a sort of divinity to him from the moment the officer in blue had walked up the steps of the Terrace, and Pluto's admiration culminated in the decision that he was the one man to warn Madame Caron of her maid's ident.i.ty without betraying it to any other.

The lady who caused all this suppressed anxiety was, apparently, care-free herself, or only disturbed slightly over the report concerning Louise. She knew the girl was in no real danger, but she knew, also, that at any hint of suspicion Louise would be in terror until joined by her mistress.

She heard Matthew Loring had sent over for Judge Clarkson to arrange some business affairs while Kenneth was home, and despite Mrs.

McVeigh's statement that they neither bought nor sold slaves, she fancied she knew what one of the affairs must be.

Judge Clarkson, however, was not at home--had been called across the country somewhere on business, but Aunt Sajane sent word that they would certainly be over in the evening and would come early, if Gideon returned in time.