Love under Fire Part 20

"I was in the midst of a girl's dream," she said slowly, "from which I have awakened--won't you release me, Captain Le Gaire?"

"I should say not," walking savagely across the room. "Come, Billie, I'm tired of this tantrum. A little of this sort of thing goes a long way with me. You're a headstrong, spoiled girl, and I've already put up with enough to try the patience of Job. Now I'm going to show my authority, insist on my rights. You've promised to marry me, now, to-night, and you are going to do it, if I have to go to your father and tell him plainly just what is the matter with you."

"With me! the only matter is that I have ceased to care for you."

"Yes, in the last week! Do you think I am blind? Do you suppose I don't know what has changed your mind so suddenly? Do you imagine I'm going to let you go for the sake of a d.a.m.ned Yankee?"

She fairly gasped in surprise, her fingers clinched, her cheeks flaming.

"A Yankee! Captain Le Gaire, are you crazy?"

"No," his temper bursting all control. "That's what's the matter with you. Oh, of course, you'll deny, and pretend to be horrified. I saw into your little game then, but I kept still; now you are carrying it too far."

"What do you mean? I am not accustomed to such language."

"I mean this: You think you are in love with that sneaking Yankee spy--I don't know his name--the fellow you helped through our lines, and then hid at Moran's. Now don't deny it; I asked some questions before I left there, and you were with him out under the grape arbor. I saw the imprint of your feet in the soft dirt. By G.o.d, I believe you knew he struck me, and permitted me to lie there while he got away."

"Captain Le Gaire--"

"Now you wait; this is my turn to talk. You thought you had fooled me, but you had not. Under other conditions I might accede to your request, but not now--not to give you over to a Yank. I've got your promise, and I propose to hold you to it."

"But it is not that," she protested. "I--I am not in love with Lieutenant Galesworth."

"So that is the fellow's name, is it--Galesworth," sneeringly. "I thought you pretended before you did not know."

She remained silent, confused.

"I'm glad to know who he is; some day we may have a settlement. Well, all I know about the affair is this, but that's enough--you rode with him all one night, hid him all the next day, and then helped him escape.

You lied to me repeatedly, and now you want to break away from me at the last minute. It's either this Galesworth or somebody else--now who is it?"

Billie sank back into a chair, but with her eyes still on the man's face.

"It is no--one," she said wearily. "It is not that at all; I--I simply do not care for you in that way any longer."

"Poof! do you mean you won't keep your word?"

"I mean I want to be released--at least a postponement until I can be sure of myself."

"And I refuse--refuse, do you understand that? You either marry me to-night or I go to your father with the whole story. He'll be pleased to learn of your affair with a Yankee spy, no doubt, and of how you helped the fellow through our lines. And I've got the proofs too. Now, young lady, it is about time to stop this quarrel, and come down to facts. What are you going to do?"

"You insist?"

"Of course I do."

Her head sank upon her hand, and even from where I peered in upon them, helpless to get away, equally helpless to aid, I could see her form tremble.

"Then there is no escape, I suppose; I must keep my promise."

He touched her on the shoulder, indifferent to her shrinking away, a sarcastic smile on his lips.

"I knew you would. I don't take this Yankee business seriously, only I wanted you to know I understood all about it. You're too sensible a girl to get tangled up that way. We'll drop it now, and I'll show you how good I can be. May I kiss you?"

"I--I would rather not--not yet. Don't be angry, but I--I am not myself.

Where were you going?"

"To tell your father it is all settled. You must be ready when we come back."

He paused with hand on the door looking back at her. There was a moment's breathless silence; then her lips whispered:

"Yes."

I turned to look out into the black orchard, and then gazed back into the lighted room. I knew not what to do, how to act. My remaining where I was could be of no possible service to her, indeed my discovery there would only add to her embarra.s.sment, yet I had no reason to believe the officer had left his seat yonder, and therefore dare not drop to the ground. My heart ached for the girl, and I longed to get my hands on that cur of a Le Gaire, yet might venture to approach neither. It was a maddening situation, but I could only stand there in the dark, gripping the rail, unable to decide my duty. Perhaps she did love me--in spite of that vigorous denial, perhaps she did--and the very possibility made the blood surge hot through my veins. Could I help her in any way? Whatever her feeling toward me might be, there remained no question as to her growing dislike for Le Gaire. Not fear, but a peculiar sense of honor alone, held her to her pledge. And could I remain still, and permit her to be thus ruthlessly sacrificed? Would Major Hardy permit it if he knew?--if the entire situation was explained to him? Le Gaire never would tell him the truth, but would laugh off the whole affair as a mere lovers' quarrel. Could I venture to thrust myself in? If I did, would it be of any use? It would cost me my liberty, and the liberty of my men; probably I should not be believed. And would she ever forgive me for listening? I struggled with the temptation--swayed by duty and by love--until my heart throbbed in bewilderment. Then it was too late.

Fate, tired of hesitancy, took the cards out of my hands.

Billie had been sitting, her head bowed on the table, the light above glistening on her hair. Suddenly she arose to her feet, her face white and drawn, her hands extended in a gesture of disgust. Attracted by the open window, and the black vista of night beyond, she stepped through onto the balcony, and stood there, leaning against the rail.

CHAPTER XX

WE ARRIVE AT A CRISIS

I remained there, pressed into one corner, unable to move, scarcely venturing to breathe, her skirt brus.h.i.+ng my leg, the strands of her hair, loosened by the night wind, almost in my face. She was gazing straight out into the night, utterly unconscious of my presence, so deeply buried in her own trouble that all else seemed as nothing. For a moment she remained motionless, silent; then her hands pressed against her forehead, and her lips gave utterance to a single exclamation:

"Oh, G.o.d! I can never, never stand it! What shall I do?"

Perhaps I moved, perhaps some sense of the occult revealed my presence, for she turned swiftly, with a sharp gasp of the breath, and looked straight into my eyes. The recognition was instant, bewildering, a shock which left her speechless, choking back the cry of alarm which rose into her throat. She gripped the rail and stared as though at a ghost.

"Don't cry out," I entreated quickly. "Surely you know whom I am."

"Yes, yes," struggling to regain her voice. "I--know; but why are you here? How long have you been here?"

"It is a story too complex to repeat," I said earnestly, "but I have been here since your father first came--don't blame me, for I couldn't get away."

"Then--then you heard--"

"Yes; I heard everything. I tried not to; I pledge you my word it was all an accident. I was here for another purpose, a military purpose. I did not even know this was your home. I am trapped on this balcony, and dare not attempt to get away--I had to listen. You will believe what I say?"

I was pleading so desperately that she stopped me, one hand grasping my sleeve.

"Yes, of course. I am sure you could never do that purposely. But I do not know what to say, how to explain. You must go at once. Can you not realize my position if you are discovered here? What--what Captain Le Gaire would say?"

"Very easily," my voice insensibly hardening at the memory, "and I should like to remain to meet him, if that were the only danger. No, please stand exactly where you are, Miss Hardy, so as to keep me in the shadow. Thank you. There is a man sitting on a bench yonder just within the orchard. He has been there for the last twenty minutes, and it is his presence which has made it impossible for me to get away. Can I escape in any manner through the house?"

She shook her head, her glance wandering from the lighted room out again into the night.

"No; there is only the one door."

"Who are here besides Le Gaire and your father?"