Love under Fire Part 12

AN ATTEMPT AT ESCAPE

The seriousness of my situation was clearly apparent, yet what could I do in order to save myself? My word was pledged, and it was evident the girl had no intention of betraying my presence. But would she come to me? Would she give me the opportunity of escape? It must be accomplished now if at all, before Le Gaire returned, or had time to complete his round of the pickets. Every instant of delay robbed me of a chance--and my life hung in the balance. There was little doubt as to that; I could advance no military reason for being treated other than as a spy, and my fate would be the short s.h.i.+ft meted out to such over the drum-head. All this swept through my brain as I listened to the hoofs of Le Gaire's horse pound the gravel outside, the sound dying away in the distance.

The sentinel marched slowly past the window, his figure silhouetted against the red glow of a camp-fire inside the gate. Then, without a warning sound, the door was pushed ajar, and the girl slipped silently through. The distant reflection of the fire barely served to reveal her face, and outline her figure. She was breathing heavily and trembling with excitement, her voice barely audible.

"You--you heard what was said in there?" she asked, eager to gain time.

"You know Captain Le Gaire has returned?"

"Yes," thinking to calm her by an appearance of coolness. "He seems to be a most blood-thirsty individual."

"He was angry at being deceived. No one can blame him, but I simply had to tantalize him in order to get him away."

"Was that it? Do you mean so you might come here to me?"

"Why, of course. I had promised you. Do you think I would demean myself by lying--to a Yank? Besides," her voice faltered, "you would have kept your parole, and--and--"

"Waited here to be hung, probably," I broke in, "as that ceremony appears to be part of the programme. My only hope was that you might possibly object to this item of entertainment."

"Don't laugh," soberly. "There is no fun in it for me."

"Then you would show mercy even to a Yankee spy?"

"I am not sure of that. I am a Rebel, but that has no serious weight now. You are not a spy; if you have acted as one, it has been more through my fault than your own. Besides you are my prisoner, and if I should permit you to fall into the hands of those men, to be condemned to death, the memory would haunt me forever. I am not that kind, Lieutenant Galesworth. I don't want your grat.i.tude; I would rather fight you than help you. I want you to understand this first of all."

"I do, Miss Hardy; you simply perform a duty."

"Yes; I--I keep my word."

"But, after all, isn't it a little easier because--you like me?"

She drew in her breath so quickly it was almost a sob, the swift, unexpected question disarming her in an instant. It was no longer the tiger cat, but the woman who gasped out a surprised response.

"No; oh, no! that is what makes it harder."

"Harder to aid me?"

"To see you unjustly condemned, and--and to realize that perhaps I am disloyal to my country."

Something about these simple words of confession, wrung from her lips by my insistence, held me silent. I failed to realize then the full significance of this acknowledgment, and she gave me no opportunity.

"This is ungenerous," she broke in quickly. "I do feel friendly toward you; surely I need not be ashamed of this, even though our interests are unlike, our causes opposed. Everything has conspired to make us friends.

But you must not presume, or take advantage of my position. Now listen--I am here for one purpose: to give you an opportunity of escape.

After that we are strangers; do you accept my terms?"

"You offer no others?"

"None."

"Then I accept--until Fate intervenes."

"You believe in Fate?"

"When aided by human persistence, yes; I intend to represent that G.o.ddess."

She drew back a step, her hand on the door.

"You almost make me regret my effort," reproachfully. "However I warn you the G.o.ddess this time shall play you false. But we waste moments in talk. Here is your revolver, Lieutenant; now come with me."

She thrust the b.u.t.t into my hand, and crossed the room to the door opening out into the back yard. An instant she peered forth into the night; then turned her face back toward me.

"Take my place here," she whispered. "See that line of shadow yonder--it is the grape arbor. I am going to steal along to the end of the house where I can watch the sentinel. The instant I signal make for that arbor, and lie quiet until I come."

I watched the dim outline of her form. She was actually doing all this for me--for me! She was running this great risk, smothering her own conscience--for me! I could not doubt this as a truth; I had probed deeply enough to be a.s.sured there was personal interest, friendliness, inspiring the sacrifice. She would never have lifted a hand to save a Yankee spy; all her sympathy was with the Confederacy. Yet she was risking all--her reputation, her life--to save me! The knowledge seemed to send fire through my veins, my heart throbbed fiercely. Oh, she could dissemble, could pretend all this was merely duty, could rage against herself and me, but nevertheless I understood--she was doing it for me!

I knew, and she should know--yes, this very night, out yonder in the shadows, when we were alone together I would make her realize what it all meant. Le Gaire? What cared I for Le Gaire! This was Love and War combined, and all is fair in either. Besides, it was the girl who counted, who must say the final word--why should I hesitate for the sake of Le Gaire? Let him fight for himself; surely the prize was worth the battle.

Her hand waved; I could catch the glimmer of the white sleeve, and recognized it as a signal. With a dozen steps I was at the entrance to the arbor, crouching down low in the shadows. As noiseless as a ghost she sped across the open s.p.a.ce, and joined me. I could feel her form tremble as I touched her, and she caught my arm with both hands, her face turned backward.

"They are relieving guard," she faltered, "and will come past here next, for there is a sentry on the opposite side. We must get farther down under the vines."

I drew her forward, for she clung to me strangely, as though all the courage and strength had suddenly deserted her.

"There are no guards down here?"

"No."

"Nor at the stables?"

"I cannot tell; I was afraid to ask."

The arbor ended some thirty feet from the stables, with a low, vine-covered fence between. There have been darker nights, yet I could distinguish merely the dim outlines. Still feeling her clasp on my arm I came to a halt, startled into absolute silence by the approach of the relief guard. The st.u.r.dy tramp of feet, and the slight tinkle of bayonets against canteens, told plainly the fellows had turned our way, although, crouched where we were, we could at first see nothing. I drew my revolver, my other hand clasping hers, and waited breathlessly. The little squad came trudging down the opposite side of the fence, only the upper part of their bodies dimly visible against the slightly lighter background of the sky. I made out the officer in command, and four men, then they wheeled into the shadow of the stables, and the sentinel stationed there challenged. There was a reply, the sound of a musket brought sharply to the shoulder, a gruff, indistinguishable order, and then again the tramp of feet, dying away in the distance. Every movement, and word, told the story, revealed the situation. I turned my eyes back to the girl's face, questioningly, barely able to perceive its whiteness.

"They have a guard there," I whispered, my lips close to her ear. "Is there no other way out?"

"Yes, on foot, but I supposed you would need a horse."

"And there are horses there?"

"I do not know about any others; I understand the judge has lost all his, but the one Captain Le Gaire left for you this morning was taken there."

"You know the situation,"--the cavalryman's eagerness for a mount overcoming all thought of danger,--"how best to get in."

"Yes; I went out there with Tom when the judge told him to put up the horse,--I wanted to see how my pony was getting along. The door is on that side to the east, just around the corner. It is closed by a wooden b.u.t.ton. The pony is in the first stall, and the horse in the second; the saddle and bridle were hung on a peg behind," she said this clearly, anxious to make me understand, but then, as the other thought came to her, her voice broke. "But, Lieutenant Galesworth, you--you cannot get the horse with the guard there!"

My clasp closed more tightly on her fingers, my resolve hardening.

"He's only a man, perhaps sleepy and careless, while I am wide awake.

One must be willing to a.s.sume risk in war. With the horse under me I have a chance, while on foot I should probably be caught before daylight. Don't worry; this is not my first attempt."

"You--you mean to try?"