Part 46 (1/2)

”To the battlefield!--to Malvern Hill. Colonel Aubrey is mortally wounded, and I must see him. Will you go with me? Oh, Uncle Eric! if you have any mercy in your soul ask me no questions now! only go with me.”

”Of course, my dear child, I will go with you, if it is possible to procure a carriage of any kind. I will see----”

”I have had one engaged for three days. Martha, stay with Electra till I come back; leave her on no account. If you notice any change, send for Dr.

Whitmore. Here is my watch; count her pulse carefully, and as long as it is over one hundred, give her, every two hours, a spoonful of the medicine in that square vial on the table. I trust to you, Martha, to take care of her.

If she should be rational, and ask for me, tell her nothing about the battles, and say I have gone to see a sick man, and will be back soon.

Come, Uncle Eric.”

They entered the close carriage which she had ordered reserved for her, and she called Cyrus to the door.

”Did you see Colonel Aubrey after he was wounded?”

”I only had a glimpse of him, as they brought him in. Miss Irene, he was shot in the breast.”

”You know the way; ride outside; and, Cyrus, drive as fast as possible.”

By the glimmer of the carriage lamps she could see the wagons going to and fro, some filled with empty coffins, some with mangled sufferers. Now and then weary, spent soldiers sat on the roadside, or struggled on toward the city which they had saved, with their arms in slings, or hands bound up, or b.l.o.o.d.y bandages across their stern faces. After another hour, when the increasing number of men showed proximity to the scene of danger, Cyrus turned away from the beaten track, and soon the flash of lights and the hum of voices told that they were near the place of destination. The carriage stopped, and Cyrus came to the door.

”We are at the lines, and I can't drive any nearer. If you will wait, I will go and find master.”

The delay seemed intolerably long, and for the first time an audible moan escaped Irene just as Cyrus came back accompanied by a m.u.f.fled figure.

”Irene, my child.”

She leaned out till her face nearly touched Dr. Arnold's.

”Only tell me that he is alive, and I can bear all else.”

”He is alive, and sleeping just now. Can you control yourself if I take you to him?”

”Yes; you need not fear that I will disturb him. Let me go to him.”

He gave her his arm, and led her through the drizzling rain for some distance--avoiding, as much as possible, the groups of wounded, where surgeons were at their sad work. Finally, before a small tent, he paused, and whispered--

”Nerve yourself, dear child.”

”Is there no hope?”

She swept aside her long mourning veil, and gazed imploringly into his face.

Tears filled his eyes, and hastily averting his head, he raised the curtain of the tent and drew her inside.

A candle burned dimly in one corner, and there, on a pallet of straw, over which a blanket had been thrown, lay the powerful form of the dauntless leader, whose deeds of desperate daring had so electrified his wors.h.i.+pping command but a few hours before. The n.o.ble head was pillowed on a knapsack; one hand pressed his heart, while the other drooped nerveless at his side, and the breast of his coat was saturated with blood, which at intervals oozed through the bandages and dripped upon the straw. The tent was silent as a cemetery, and not a sound pa.s.sed Irene's white, fixed lips as she bent down and looked upon the loved face, strangely beautiful in its pallid repose. The shadowy wings of the bitter bygone hovered no longer over the features, darkening their chiselled perfection; a tranquil half-smile parted the lips, and unbent the lines between the finely-arched black brows.

Sinking softly on the floor of the tent, Irene rested her chin on her folded hands, and calmly watched the deep sleep. So pa.s.sed three-quarters of an hour; then, as Dr. Arnold cautiously put his fingers on the pulse, the sufferer opened his eyes.

Irene was partially in the shade, but as she leaned forward, a sudden, bewildered smile lighted his countenance; he started up, and extended one arm.

”Irene! My darling! Do I dream, or are you indeed with me?”