My Lady of the North Part 8

"You have nothing whatever to ask forgiveness for," I said earnestly.

"Rather such a request should come from me. I only trust, Miss Brennan, that you will excuse my part in this extremely unfortunate affair."

She sat looking down upon her plate, her fingers nervously crumbling a bit of corn bread.

"You do not even know who I am," she said slowly. "I am not Miss, but Mrs. Brennan."

I felt as if a dash of cold water had been suddenly thrown in my face.

"Indeed?" I stammered, scarcely knowing what I said. "You appear so young a girl that I never once thought of you as being a married woman."

"I was married very early; indeed, before I was seventeen. My husband--"

What she was about to add I could but conjecture, for a quick change in the expression of her face startled me.

"What is it?" I questioned, half rising to my feet, and glancing over my shoulder toward the wall where her eyes were riveted.

"Something resembling a hand pushed aside the coat hanging yonder," she explained in low trembling tone, "and I thought I saw a face."

With one stride I was across the narrow room, and tore the garment from its wooden hook. The log wall where it hung was blank. I struck it here and there with the steel hilt of my sabre, but it returned a perfectly solid sound, and I glanced about bewildered. The woman was watching me with affrighted eyes.

"This entire house is uncanny," she exclaimed. "The very being in it makes my flesh creep. It may have been a den of murderers. Captain, let us get outside into the suns.h.i.+ne."

Believing it to be merely her overwrought nerves which were at fault, I sought to soothe her. "It was probably no more than a shadow," I said, crossing to her side of the table, to enable her better to feel the influence of my presence. "Let us be content to sit here by the door, for we should be taking too great a risk of discovery if we ventured into the open."

I had barely spoken these words and placed my fingers on her hand to lead her forward when the small door which opened into the shed was thrown back noisily, and two great s.h.a.ggy dogs, the evident mates of the dead brute at our feet, leaped fiercely in. She shrank toward me with a sob of terror; but even as I drew a revolver from my belt, a man and a woman appeared almost simultaneously in that same opening.

"Down, Douglas! down, Roderick! Ha! 'There lies Red Murdoch, stark and stiff!'--down, you brutes; you'll be dead yourselves sometime."

The man strode forward as he spoke, clubbing the frenzied brutes with the stock of the long rifle he carried.

"'Yelled on the view the opening pack,'" he quoted, as he distributed his blows impartially to right and left; "'rock, glen, and cavern paid them back.' Them thar be Scott's words, stranger, an' I reckon as how ol' Sir Walter knew whut he wus writin' 'bout. Stop thet blame youlin', you Roderick, er I'll take t' other end o' this gun ter ye."

He redoubled his efforts for peace, finally driving the rebellious beasts back into one corner, where they sat upon their haunches and eyed us wistfully.

"'Two dogs of black Saint Hubert's breed, unmatched for courage, breath, and speed,'" he exclaimed, wiping the perspiration from his face with the back of one hand and staring at us, "specially the breath."

He was a fierce-looking little fellow, scarcely more than a half-grown boy in size, with round, red face full of strange wrinkles, and head as oddly peak-shaped as I ever looked upon. It went up exactly like the apex of a pear, while the upper portion was utterly bald. He formed a most remarkable contrast to the tall, raw-boned, angular female who loomed up like a small mountain just behind him.

"I reckon as how you uns hed quite a bit of a sc.r.a.p afore ye laid thet thar dorg out, stranger," he said, a half-angry tone lurking in his deep voice. "'The fleetest hound in all the North,' an' I'm durned if I jist likes ther way you uns makes yerselves et hum in this yere cabin."

"Shet up, Jed Bungay," cut in his better-half, sharply, and as she spoke she caught the little man unceremoniously by one arm, and thrusting him roughly to one side strode heavily forward until she paused in the centre of the room, facing us with her arms akimbo.

"Now I'd jist like ter know," she said savagely, "who you uns be, a breakin' into a house, and a killin' a dorg, an' a eatin' up everything we uns got without so much as a sayin' 'by yer leave' er nuthin'. I reckon as how you uns don't take this yere cabin fer no tavern?"

The wrinkled red face peering cautiously around her ample waist line made me wish to laugh, but an earnest desire to placate the irate female, who was evidently the real head of this household, enabled me to conquer the inclination and answer gravely.

"Madam," I said with a low bow, "it is misfortune, not desire, which has caused us to trespa.s.s upon your hospitality. We will very gladly pay you liberally for any damage done. I am an officer in the Confederate service, and the breaking down of our horses compelled us to take refuge here in order that this lady might not be exposed to danger from roving gangs of guerillas. The dog attacked us in the dark, and we killed him in order to save our lives."

"'The deep-mouthed bloodhound's heavy bay resounded up the rocky way,"

e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Bungay with dancing eyes.

"Drat yer potry, Jed Bungay! ye dew make me tired fer suah." She turned back to us, and from her first words it was plainly evident she had been impressed with but one sentence of my labored explanation.

"Did you uns say as how ye 'd pay fer whut ye et and fer thet truck ye busted?" she asked doubtfully.

"Certainly, madam," and I took some money from my pocket as evidence of good faith. "What would you consider due you?"

The grim, set face relaxed slightly, while she permitted her husband to edge his way a little more into the foreground.

"Wal, stranger, I sorter reckon as how 'bout four bits 'ill squar'

things--dorgs is mighty durn cheap hereabout enyhow."

"'But Lufra,--whom from Douglas' side nor bribe nor threat could e'er divide,'" he protested. "Not that its name was Lufra, but he was a blame fine dorg."

The woman turned on him like a flash, and he crept subdued back into his corner. The incipient rebellion had been ended by a glance.

"Durn ye, Jed Bungay, why, thet's more money thin ye've aimed in six months, an' ye've got more measly, flea-bit dorgs 'round yere now then ye kin ever feed. Give me ther four bits, mister, an' I reckon as how it'll be all right."

The little man balanced himself on one foot, and c.o.c.ked up his eye in an abortive attempt to wink.

"Yas, don't ye ever mind me, Mariar," he said humbly. "'Whom ther Lord hath jined tergether let no man put asunder.' Thet thar ain't Scott, Cap, but I reckon it's out of another book mighty nigh es good. Hes you uns got all ther victuals ye want? 'He gave him of his Highland cheer, the hardened flesh of mountain deer.' This yere is slab bacon, but it smells purty durn good."

I glanced at Mrs. Brennan, and the amused twinkle in her eyes led me to say heartily, "We had not entirely completed our meal, but imagined we saw ghosts."

"Ghosts!" He glanced around apprehensively,--"'On Heaven and on thy lady call, and enter the enchanted hall!' Wus ther ghosts ye saw over thar?" And he pointed toward the wall opposite.

I nodded.

"Then I sorter reckon as how Mariar and me wus them ghosts," he continued, grinning. "We sorter reckoned as how we wanted ter see who wus yere afore we come in. 'I'll listen till my fancy hears the clang of swords, the crash of spears.' These yere is tough times, stranger, in these parts, an' a man whut has ter pertect a lovely female hes got ter keep his eye skinned."

Maria sniffed contemptuously.

"Ye're no great shakes at a pertectin' o' me, Jed Bungay. Now you sit down thar an' begin ter fill up. I reckon as how ther Cap an' his gal will kinder jine with us fer manners."

She seated Jed with such extreme vigor that I looked for the chair to collapse beneath him as he came down, but the little man, not in the least daunted, picked up his knife and fork with a sigh of relief.

"'O woman! in our hours of ease uncertain, coy, and hard to please,'"

he murmured. "Come, sit down, stranger; 'Sit down an' share a soldier's couch, a soldier's fare.' Not as I'm a sojer," he hastened to explain, "but thet's how it is in ther book. Say, old woman, kint ye kinder sker up some coffee fer we uns--leastwise whut us Confeds call coffee?"

Without much difficulty I induced Mrs. Brennan to draw her chair once more to the table, and I sat down beside her.

"You are Confederate, then?" I asked, curious to know upon which side his sympathies were enlisted in the struggle.

He glanced warily at my gray jacket, then his shrewd, s.h.i.+fty eyes wandered to the blue and yellow cavalry cloak lying on the floor.

"Wal, I jist don't know, Cap," he said cautiously, continuing to eat as he talked, "as I'm much o' enything in this yere row. First ther durned gray-backs they come snoopin' up yere, an' run off all my horgs; then ther blame blue-bellies come 'long an' cut down every lick o' my corn fodder, so thet I'll be cussed if I ain't 'bout ready ter fight either side. Anyhow I ain't did no fightin' yit worth talkin' 'bout, fer Mariar is pow'ful feared I'd git hurt."

Maria regarded him scornfully.