Part 10 (1/2)

”I heard a footstep in the hall, and it was my duty to see who was pa.s.sing,” he said.

”I have prepared food and I am taking it to my father. He would not accept it from Yankee hands.”

”Colonel Woodville sups late. I should think a wounded man would be asleep at this hour, if he could.”

She gave him a glance full of venom.

”What does it matter?” she said.

d.i.c.k refused to be insulted.

”Let me take the tray for you,” he said, ”at least to the door. Your father need not know that my hands have touched it.”

She shrank back and her eyes blazed.

”Let us alone!” she exclaimed. ”Go back to your room! Isn't it sufficient that this house shelters you?”

She seemed to d.i.c.k to show a heat and hate out of all proportion to the occasion, but he did not repeat the offer.

”I meant well,” he said, ”but, since you do not care for my help, I'll return to my room and go to sleep. Believe me, I'm sincere when I say I hope your father will recover quickly from his wound.”

”He will,” she replied briefly.

d.i.c.k bowed with politeness and turned toward his own room. Nevertheless his curiosity did not keep him from standing a moment or two in the dark against the wall and looking back at the woman who bore the tray. He drew a long breath of astonishment when he saw her pa.s.s Colonel Woodville's door, and hurry forward now with footsteps that made no sound.

The suspicion which had lain deep in his mind sprang at once into life. Keeping close to the wall, he followed swiftly and saw her disappear up a stairway. There he let the pursuit end and returned thoughtfully to his room.

d.i.c.k was much troubled. An ethical question had presented itself to him. He believed that he had divined everything. The solution had come to him with such suddenness and force that he was as fully convinced as if he had seen with his own eyes. Military duty demanded that he invade the second floor of the Woodville house. But there were feelings of humanity and mercy, moral issues not less powerful than military duty, and maybe more so.

He was pulled back and forth with great mental violence. He was sorry that he had seen Miss Woodville with the tray. And then he wasn't. Nevertheless, he stayed in his own room, and Warner, waking for a moment, regarded him with wonder as he sat outlined against the window which they had left unshuttered and opened to admit air.

”What's the matter, d.i.c.k? Have you got a fever?” he asked. ”Why haven't you gone to bed?”

”I'm going to do so right away. Don't bother yourself about me, George. My nerves have been strained pretty hard, and I had to wait until they were quiet until I could go to sleep.”

”Don't have nerves,” said Warner, as he turned back on his side and returned to slumber.

d.i.c.k undressed and got into bed. It was the first time in many nights that he had not slept in his clothes, and beds had been unknown for many weeks. It was a luxury so penetrating and powerful that it affected him like an opiate. Such questions as military and moral duty floated swiftly away, and he slept the sleep of youth and a good heart.

Breakfast was almost a repet.i.tion of supper. The army cook prepared and served it, and the Woodvilles remained invisible. Colonel Winchester informed the young officers that they would remain in Jackson two or three days, and then great events might be expected. All felt sure that he was predicting aright. Pemberton must be approaching with the Vicksburg army. The wary and skillful Johnston had another army, and he could not be far away. Moreover, this was the heart of the Confederacy and other unknown forces might be gathering.

They felt the greatness of the hour, Grant's daring stroke, and the possibility that he might yet be surrounded and overwhelmed. Their minds were attuned, too, to other and yet mightier deeds, but they were glad, nevertheless, of a little rest. The Woodville house was a splendid place, and in the morning they did not feel so much the chill of embarra.s.sment that had been created for them the night before.

d.i.c.k went straight to the room of Colonel Woodville, opened the door without knocking, and closed it behind him quickly but noiselessly.

The colonel was propped up in his bed and a tray bearing light and delicate food lay on a chair. His daughter stood beside the bed, speechless with anger at this intrusion. d.i.c.k lifted his hand, and the look upon his face checked one of the mightiest oaths that had ever welled up from the throat of Colonel Charles Woodville, king of swearers.

”Stop!” said d.i.c.k in a voice not loud, but sharp with command.

”Can't we at least have privacy in the room of an old and wounded man?” asked Miss Woodville.

”You can hereafter,” replied d.i.c.k quietly. ”I shall not come again, but I tell you now to get him out of the house to-night, unless he's too badly hurt to be moved.”

”Why should my father be taken away?” demanded Miss Woodville.

”I'm not speaking of your father.”

”Of whom, then?”

d.i.c.k did not answer, but he met her gaze steadily, and her face fell. Then he turned, walked out of the room without a word, and again closed the door behind him. When he went out on the piazza he saw excitement among his comrades. The moment for great action was coming even sooner than Colonel Winchester had expected.

”Johnston is communicating with Pemberton,” said Warner, ”and he has ordered Pemberton to unite with him. Then they will attack us. He sent the same order by three messengers, but one of them was in reality a spy of ours, and he came straight to General Grant with it. We're forewarned, and the trap can't shut down on us, because General Grant means to go at once for Pemberton.”

d.i.c.k understood the situation, which was both critical and thrilling. Grant was still in the heart of the Confederacy, and its forces were converging fast upon him. But the grim and silent man, instead of merely trying to escape, intended to strike a blow that would make escape unnecessary. All the young officers saw the plan and their hearts leaped.

d.i.c.k, in the excitement of the day, forgot about the Woodville house and its inmates. Troops were already marching out of Jackson to meet the enemy, but the Winchester regiment would not leave until early the next morning. They were to spend a second night, or at least a part of it, in Colonel Woodville's house.

It was the same group that ate supper there and the same army cook served them. They did not go to the bedrooms afterward, but strolled about, belted, expecting to receive the marching call at any moment.

d.i.c.k went into the library, where a single candle burned, and while he was there Miss Woodville appeared at the door and beckoned to him. She had abated her severity of manner so much that he was astonished, but he followed without a word.

She saw that the hall was clear and then she led quickly into her father's room. Colonel Woodville was propped up against the pillows, and there was color in his face.

”Young man,” he said, ”come here. You can afford to obey me, although I'm a prisoner, because I'm so much older than you are. You have a heart and breeding, young sir, and I wish to shake your hand.”

He thrust a large hand from the cover, and d.i.c.k shook it warmly.

”I wouldn't have shaken it if you had been born north of the Ohio River,” said Colonel Woodville.

d.i.c.k laughed.

”My chief purpose in having you brought here,” said Colonel Woodville, ”was to relate to you an incident, of which I heard once. Did I read about it, or was it told to me, Margaret?”

”I think, sir, that some one told you of it.”

”Ah, well, it doesn't matter. A few words will tell it. In an old, forgotten war a young soldier quartered in the house of his defeated enemy-but defeated only for the time, remember-saw something which made him believe that a wounded nephew of the house was hid in an upper room. But he was generous and he did not search further. The second night, while the young officer and his comrades were at supper, the nephew, who was not hurt badly, was slipped out of the house and escaped from the city in the darkness. It's not apropos of anything, and I don't know why I'm relating it to you, but I suppose this terrible war we are fighting is responsible for an old man's whim.”

”I've found it very interesting, sir,” said d.i.c.k, ”and I think it's relevant, because it shows that even in war men may remain Christian human beings.”

”Perhaps you're right, and I trust, young sir, that you will not be killed in this defeat to which you are surely marching.”

d.i.c.k bowed to both, and left them to their fears and hopes. The glow was still about his heart when he rode forth with the Winchester regiment after midnight. But, owing to the need of horses for the regular cavalry, it had become an infantry regiment once more. Only the officers rode.

At dawn they were with Grant approaching a ridge called Champion Hill.