"Miss Lou" Part 22

"I drink your health in my one contribution," cried Scoville. "Never mind, aunty, we'll be jolly over it all the same. I agree with you.

It's worth a month's pay to see Miss Baron happy and hungry. I'd like to know who has a better right. Aunt Jinkey's told me how you protected her. That was fine. You'd make a soldier."

"Oh, please stop such talk, both of you. I'm ridiculously unlike the heroines in uncle's library. Lieutenant, please don't say 'Ha! the hour has come and we must part, perhaps forever.' I won't have any forever.

Uncle l.u.s.thah has insured you gray hairs, and if you don't come and see us before they're gray, Aun' Jinkey and I will believe all uncle says about the Yankees."

"And so you ought," said Scoville. "Oh, I'll come back to breakfast with you again, if I have to come on crutches. Well, I must go. There is Chunk with the horses. Even now I'm keeping one ear open for a shot from that hasty cousin of yours."

At this reference she looked grave and rose from the table.

"Lieutenant," she said, taking his proffered hand, "please do not think me a giddy child nor an unfeeling girl. I DO thank you. I do wish you well just as you wish me well--for your own sake. Oh, it seems such a blessed thing for people to feel simple, honest goodwill toward one another, without having some scheme back of it all."

"Well, Miss Baron, if I had a chance I'd soon prove that I too had a scheme. The chief point in it would be to keep all trouble out of the eyes that looked on me so kindly when I came to my senses in this cabin. Heaven bless your good, kind heart! Promise me one thing."

"Well?"

"If your cousin comes soon there may be a sharp fight. Keep out of danger. I could never be myself again if my coming here should result in injury to you."

"As far as my curiosity will permit I will try to keep out of the way.

I've seen so little in my short life that I must make the most of this brief opportunity. In a day or so you may all be gone, and then the old humdrum life will begin again."

"Yes, we may all be gone before night. Your chief danger then will be from the stragglers which follow the army like vultures. If possible, I will induce the general to leave a guard to-night. I wish Mr. Baron had a clearer eye to his interests and safety. The general is not lamb-like. If a guard can be procured for to-night it will be due to your action and my representations. My services as a scout have brought me in rather close contact with the general, and possibly I may induce him to give protection as long as the interest of the service permits.

All questions will be decided with reference to the main chance; so, if I seem neglectful, remember I must obey my orders, whatever they are.

Ah! there's a shot."

Her hand ached long afterward from his quick, strong pressure, and then he mounted and was away at a gallop. Miss Lou hastily returned to the house, but Chunk coolly entered the cabin, saying, "I'se git a bite fer mebbe I ain' yere ter dinner."

"Reck'n you better be skerce, Chunk, ef Mad Whately comes," said his grandmother, trembling.

"I knows des w'at ter 'spect fum Mad Whately en fum dat ar oberseer too, but dey fin' me a uggly ole hornet. I got my sting han'y," and he tapped the b.u.t.t of a revolver in the breast of his coat. Having devoured the remnants of the breakfast he darted out and mounted his horse also.

Mad Whately was coming sure enough, and like a whirlwind. He had fallen in with the van of the Confederate advance during the night, and by his representations had induced an early and forced march to The Oaks. The vigilant Scoville, with his experiences as a scout fresh in his mind, had foreseen this possibility. He had two plans in his mind and was ready to act upon either of them.

Rus.h.i.+ng through the hallway of the mansion from the rear entrance, Miss Lou found her kindred on the veranda. They were too excited and eager to ask where she had been, for the fierce rebel yell had already been raised at the entrance of the avenue.

"Ah!" exclaimed Mr. Baron, "now we'll see this Yankee sc.u.m swept away."

Apparently he would have good reason for his exultation. Scoville was the last man in the world to fight blindly, and Miss Lou kept her eyes on him. As he sat on his horse, where he commanded the best view of the advancing enemy, she thought he appeared wonderfully quiet. Not so his men. They were galloping to the right of the mansion, where there was a grove on rising ground which formed a long ridge stretching away to the northwest. It can readily be guessed that it was Scoville's aim not to be cut off from the main Union column by a superior force, and the ridge would enable him to see his enemy before he fought, if he should deem it wise to fight at all. He knew that his horses were fresh. If those of the attacking party were somewhat blown he could easily keep out of the way if it were too strong to cope with. He exchanged a few words with the sergeant commanding the scouting party recently sent out, and pointed to the grove with his sabre, then slowly followed with his eye on the enemy.

Miss Lou was in a fever of apprehension in his behalf, for already shots were fired at him from the Confederates. Suddenly she heard the click of a musket lock just beneath her, and, looking down, saw Perkins levelling a piece at Scoville. Quick as light she drew off her slipper and dashed it into the man's face as he fired. By reason of his disconcerted aim the bullet flew harmlessly by the Union officer, who gave a quick, stern glance toward his a.s.sailant, recognized him, and galloped after his men.

"You vile murderer!" cried Miss Lou, "would you shoot a man in his back?"

"Oh, come, Perkins, that's hardly the thing, no matter what your provocation," Mr. Baron added.

Perkins bestowed a malignant glance on Miss Lou, then limped away, wearing a sullen look. The officer in command of the Confederates sheered off across the lawn toward the grove, and the girl quickly saw that his force greatly outnumbered that of Scoville. Mad Whately dashed up to the piazza steps and asked breathlessly, "Are you all safe?"

"Yes," cried his mother. "Thank G.o.d! I see you are safe also."

He turned his eyes on his cousin, but in her cold, steady gaze found no encouragement. With something like an oath, he turned and galloped after the attacking force.

But Scoville did not wait to be attacked. He continued with his men along the ridge, retreating rapidly when pressed, pausing when pursuit slackened. The officer in command soon remarked to Whately, "We are using up our horses to no purpose, and we shall need them for more important work later in the day."

Therefore he sounded recall and retired on the mansion, Scoville following, thus proving that he was governed by other motives than fear. Indeed, he was in a very genial frame of mind. He had got all his men off safely, except two or three laggards, and had already sent swift riders to inform his general of the situation. Knowing that the tables would soon be turned, he was quite content that he had not made an obstinate and useless resistance. "What's more," he thought, "Miss Lou would not have kept out of danger. It isn't in her nature to do so.

Miss Lou! I wish I might call her that some day and then drop the Miss.

One thing is clear. If I meet that cousin again, he'll show me no quarter. So I must look out for him and that a.s.sa.s.sin of an overseer, too. She called him by his right name, the brave little girl! No need of asking me to come back, for I'd go to the ends of the earth to see her again."

If he had know how her presence of mind and swift action had in all probability saved his life, his feelings would have been far more vivid, while his belief in the luck of throwing an old shoe would have become one of the tenets of his faith. Miss Lou went after the extemporized missile and put it on again, saying, "I have fired my first and last shot in this war."

"It is indeed becoming doubtful on which side you are," answered her uncle sternly.

"I'm not on the side of that wretch Perkins. Suppose he had succeeded, and Lieutenant Scoville's general came here, what mercy could we expect? If Perkins values his life he had better not be caught."

"I am glad indeed, Louise, that you prevented such a thing from happening," said Mrs. Whately. "The result might have been very disastrous, and in any event would have been horrible. It was a brave, sensible thing to do, and you will find that Madison will think so, too."

Mad Whately, however, was in anything but a judicial mood.

CHAPTER XIX

A GIRL'S APPEAL

Miss Lou was too well acquainted with, her cousin not to recognize evidences of almost ungovernable rage during the brief moment he had paused at the veranda. She looked significantly at his mother, whose face was pale and full of an apprehension now uncalled for, since the prospect of an immediate battle had pa.s.sed away. "She is afraid of him herself, her own son, and yet she would marry me to him," the girl thought bitterly.

Miss Lou was mistaken. Her aunt had fears only FOR her son, knowing how p.r.o.ne he was to rash, headlong action when almost insane from pa.s.sion.

The girl, however, was elated and careless. She justly exulted in the act by which she had baffled the vengeance of Perkins, and she had ceased to have the anxieties of a bitter Southern partisan. Such she would have been but for her alienation from those identified with the cause. She was capable of the most devoted loyalty, but to whom should she give it? If a loving father or brother had been among the Confederates, there would have been no question. Now she was sorely perplexed in her feelings, for the South was represented by those bent upon doing her a wrong at which her very soul revolted, and the North by one who had satisfied her sense of right and justice, who, more than all, had warmed her heart by kindness. The very friendliness of the negroes inclined her to take their part almost involuntarily, so deep was the craving of her chilled nature for sympathy. If she had been brought up in loving dependence she would not have been so well equipped for the chaotic emergency. Having no hope of good counsel from natural advisers, she did not waste a moment in seeking it, or weakly hesitate for its lack. What her bright, active mind suggested as right and best, that she was ready to do instantly. Now that she had gained freedom she would keep it at all hazards.

When the Confederate officers approached the house, she was glad to observe that her cousin was not chief in command.

Mr. Baron went down upon the lawn to meet the officers, and, after a brief parley, Major Brockton, the senior in command, began to dispose of his men for a little rest and refreshment, promising to join the family soon in the dining-room. Miss Lou, unasked, now aided in the preparations for the morning meal. Fearing Aun' Suke would get herself in trouble, she ran to the kitchen and told the old cook to comply with all demands as best she could. She had scarcely spoken when Mrs. Baron entered. Casting a severe look on her niece, she asked Aun' Suke, "Will you obey me now? Will you tell me you are a free woman now?"

"My haid in a whirl aready, misus. Ef you wants me ter I kin cook, but I kyant keep track ob de goin's on."

"I can," replied the indomitable old lady, "and I can keep a good memory of the behavior of all on the plantation!"

"You can't govern much longer by fear, aunt," said Miss Lou. "Had you not better try a little kindness?"

"What has been the result of all the years of kindness bestowed upon you?" was the indignant answer.

"I only meant that it might be well to bestow a little of what other people regard as kindness. I had asked Aun' Suke to do her best and am sure she will."

"It will be strange if she does, when you are setting the example of doing your worst. But I am mistress once more, and wish no interference."

"Doan you worry, honey, 'bout we uns," said Aun' Suke quietly. "We yeard de soun' fum far away, en we year it agin soon."

Meanwhile Mad Whately was closeted with his uncle and mother, listening with a black frown to all that had occurred.

"I tell you," exclaimed the young man, "it's as clear as the sun in the sky that she should be sent away at once--in fact, that you all should go."