Love under Fire Part 7

"A foraging party; they went west; we have the bridge guarded."

"Beauregard's advance may hurry Johnston," I continued, eager to draw out of him some information of value. "How came he to move without orders?"

"He concluded so wide a gap was dangerous, and that Johnston's despatch-carriers must have been unable to get through, so he began feeling his way east. The orders Billie brought will undoubtedly hurry the advance."

"They have gone forward then?"

"Certainly--I sent a man with them at once."

I shot an inquiring glance toward her, but she had found a seat at the table, and was toying idly with a spoon, her eyes cast down.

"And Beauregard is marching along this road, I presume?"

"No; back behind the hills where he runs no risk of being seen by any prowling Yankee scouts. We are in advance on the left flank."

I understood the movement clearly enough now, and realized the importance of getting this news to our headquarters. A swift advance of troops would throw a column between these two forces of Confederates, and hold them apart for separate battle. But there was no time for delay. Le Gaire failed to comprehend my anxious glance out the open window.

"We all better be at it," he said quickly. "By the way, with that cavalry uniform you ought to have a horse. We're leading one with Yankee accoutrements you can use. Come on, Slade. Miss Hardy, I hope to see you at your own home in a few days."

He bowed, hat in hand, the girl rising to her feet, as the sergeant left the room. She did not smile, her eyes flas.h.i.+ng from his face to mine.

"I may remain here until the armies leave this section," she replied quietly. "There is too much risk in travelling alone."

"You might ride with us," he suggested gallantly. She shook her head, her lips smiling.

"I think I better not."

"Does that mean you are still angry?"

"I didn't know I had been, Captain. Perhaps I spoke rather hastily, but you must forgive that."

Her hand was extended, and he came a step back from the door to grasp it, and lift the fingers to his lips. With a fierce throbbing of the heart I turned my back to them, staring out the window. There was a low murmur of voices, and then the door clicked. I never moved, watching Le Gaire go down the steps, his men swing into their saddles, at a sharp order, and ride away in column of fours. When they had all disappeared a single horse remained, tied to the railing of the veranda. I turned about, and picked up my hat from the floor. Miss Hardy was seated again at the table, her head resting upon one hand. I could see the round, white arm where the sleeve fell away, and her cheeks were flushed. She did not lift her eyes at my movement, and, half angry at her studied indifference, I advanced straight toward the door. But there I hesitated, unable to part without at least another word. She was looking at me now.

"May I hope ever to meet you again?" I asked.

"I can promise nothing as to the future," she returned soberly. "But I wish to speak to you now, before you go. Sit down here, just a moment."

I hesitated, keen as to the value of time, yet curious as to what she would say, and swayed strongly by her influence.

"You surely must understand how anxious I am to get away--" I began, but she broke in impulsively.

"Of course I do, but you must listen to me first." She had risen, and was leaning forward, speaking earnestly. "It is true we shall probably never meet again, yet I am not willing you should think me altogether a despicable character. I wish you to know whom I am, and why deceit was necessary."

"My dear girl," I exclaimed, hastily crossing the room, "there is nothing to explain. I understand the circ.u.mstances."

"No, not entirely," she insisted, "but it is my desire you should. I--I hardly know why, but--but I would rather have you think well of me.

Listen, please; I will be very brief. I am Willifred Gray Hardy, and it was my father whom you overheard talking with General Johnston. Our home is south on the pike road, and was used as headquarters until a few days ago. I have known General Johnston ever since I was a little girl, and everybody--all my friends--call me Billie. Of course you thought the courier was a man--it was only natural you should--and it was, therefore, easy for me to keep up the deceit--they trusted me, and I had to get those papers through."

"Of course you did," heartily. "Surely you do not suppose I would think less of you for your loyalty?"

"I hoped not; nor did I mean to let you go away thinking me a fool."

"A fool!" thrown entirely from my guard. "How could I think that?"

"By imagining that I believe you Major Atherton of Pemberton's staff,"

with a little, nervous laugh, and quick uplifting of the eyes. "I was glad Captain Le Gaire made the mistake, for I had no wish to see you a prisoner, but your quick pretending did not in the least deceive me, Lieutenant Galesworth." She paused, evidently amused at the surprise expressed in my face, yet with the lines of her lips setting firmly.

"Your questions regarding the movements of Beauregard were most ingenuous, but I was able to comprehend your purpose."

"You mean--"

"That you propose bearing the news direct to Federal headquarters. That is why you are in such a desperate hurry to get away."

I took a step backward, reading the meaning of her eyes.

"And you intend to prevent--"

"Exactly," her voice as quiet as ever. "I am a Confederate still."

She had changed her position, standing now between me and the closed door, the expression upon her face sufficient evidence of her determination. Hers was no idle threat--this daughter of a soldier was ready for the struggle and the sacrifice. I recognized all this at a glance, bewildered by the swift change in att.i.tude, unable to decide my own course of action. Argument was useless, a resort to force repugnant.

Above all else the one overpowering feeling was admiration for the girl.

She must have read all this in my eyes, yet her own never wavered, nor changed expression.

"Please do not make the mistake, Lieutenant Galesworth, of thinking me not sufficiently in earnest," she said firmly, "or that I am unprepared."

"I do not; if you were only a man I should know exactly what to do."

"Your courtesy is misplaced; at least I do not ask it. This is war, and you are upon one side, I on the other. You will remain in this room until I say you may go."

"What will hold me?--your eyes?--the mere threat of your lips?"

"Something rather more to the purpose than either," she answered coldly.

Her right hand, concealed by the folds of her skirt, was uplifted, the fingers grasping the black b.u.t.t of a Colt. Her lips smiled. "I suppose you know the efficacy of this weapon, Lieutenant, and that it is loaded."

My hand dropped instinctively to my belt--the revolver holster was empty! It was my own weapon the girl held.

CHAPTER VIII

THE COMING OF THE ENEMY

No matter how charming she may be, a man can never enjoy being outplayed at his own game by a woman. The piquant face fronting me swam in a mist as a sudden rush of anger swept from me all admiration. I had been played with, outwitted from the start, every movement checkmated--even now she was actually laughing at my helplessness. My first wild impulse was to spring forward, and wrest the revolver from her hand; yet there was that in her att.i.tude, in the expression of her eyes, which made me hesitate. Would she shoot? Would the sense of duty to her cause actually induce her to fire at me? A moment before, I should not have deemed it possible, but now, it seemed to me, she was desperate enough to do even this. And that was a hair-trigger she fingered so recklessly! Instead of leaping forward, I stood motionless, outwardly cool, yet with every nerve throbbing. She read all this in my face, no doubt, for her lips half smiled, her manner exhibited confidence.

"Oh, I can shoot," she said pleasantly enough, "so I wouldn't try that if I were you. Now will you do exactly as I say?"

I remained silent, my hands clinched. So this was the gentle creature I had been riding with, had even been falling in love with! This woman, now threatening me with death, was the same happy-hearted, laughing girl whose hand I had held, and to whom I had talked in words of friends.h.i.+p.

I could scarcely realize the change, or comprehend this new development of character.