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Miss Lou, a novel by Edward Payson Roe |
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Chapter 21. Two Storms |
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_ CHAPTER XXI. TWO STORMS Miss Lou sank wearily on the doorstep of Aun' Jinkey's cabin where the reader first made her acquaintance. She drew a long sigh. "Oh, I must rest and get my breath. So much is happening!" "You po' chile!" was the sympathetic response. "Ah well, honey, de good Lawd watchin' ober you. I year how dat ole snake in-de-grass Perkins git out Miss Whately's keridge en tink he gwine ter tote you off nobody know whar. You passin' troo de Red Sea long o' us, honey. I yeared how you say you doan wanter lebe yo' ole mammy. I ain' cried so sence I wus a baby w'en I yeared dat. Doan you reckermember, honey? You sot right dar en wish sump'n ter hap'n. I 'spects we bettah be keerful how we wishes fer tings. Doan you min' de time Uncle Lusthah pray fer rain en we wus all nigh drownded?" "I'm not sorry, mammy, things happened, for my heart's been warmed, WARMED as never before. Oh, it's so sweet to know that one is cared for; it is so sweet to have somebody look you in the eyes and say, 'I want you to be happy in your own way.'" "Did Marse Scoville say dat?" The girl nodded. "I'se hab ter smoke on dat ar lil whiles." Both were lost in thought for a time, Miss Lou's eyes looking dreamily out through the pines and oaks as they had before when vaguely longing that the stagnation of her life might cease. All had become strangely still; not a soldier was in sight; even the birds were quiet in the sultriness of the early afternoon. "Isn't it all a dream?" the girl asked suddenly. "Kin' ob wish we could wake up den, if it is. See yere, Miss Lou, you on'y a lil chile arter all. Doan you see Marse Scoville des tekin' a longer way roun' de bush? Wen he tell you he want you ter be happy he mean he want you hissef!" "Oh, yes, Aun' Jinkey, that was plain enough; but do you know how he would take me and when?" "Dat's des w'at I lak ter know, fer I tells you, chile, dis mar'in' business orful serus." "He would take me only when I went to him of my own free will and not before. I feel just as safe with him as with you. I believe he would do what I asked just as he minds that general of his. That's the wonderful part of it, which almost takes away my breath. Why, only the other day uncle and aunt were ordering me about as they always have, and now here's a brave, educated man ready to do my bidding. What a goose Cousin Mad was! If he had acted that way I shouldn't have known any better I fear than to marry him. I was so starved for a little consideration and kindness, that if he'd been generous and made me feel that he cared for ME and not for himself all the time, I fear I'd have just married him out of gratitude. I would have acted like an impulsive, ignorant child, blind to everything except that some one cared for me. But that's all past now. My eyes have been opened and I've been compelled to think and foresee the future. Dreary enough it would have been with him." "What you gwine ter do, honey?" "Stand on my rights. See how much I've learned in a few short days, yes, even hours. I've learned above all things that my life's my own. There were my relatives, who would reach out and take it, just as they would a ripe fig from a tree, with just about as much consideration for me as for the fig. Thank God! I have been shown clearly my right to my own life. Since I have learned so much in a few days, I shall keep my freedom and choose that which is best for me as well as best for others." "Now, honey, you on de right track, sho! Des you wait en lis'n. Mo' folks dan Marse Scoville wanter talk wid you on dis mar'age question. You on'y lil chile yit. Des you keep yosef deserved-like en say yo' mouf ain' waterin' few enybody. Marse Scoville berry nice gem'lin, but he yere to-day en like anuff a orful way yander termorrer--" "No matter where he is, Aun' Jinkey, he will carry the love I could give to a kind brother if I had one. He knows I can do no more and he does not ask more." "Yes, he does, honey; he ax hit in de bes way ter git hit fum you. He ain' de fool ter grab at hit, but he tek hit all de same." "Well," she answered judicially, "I don't see how a girl can help it if a man thinks more of her than she of him, but it does make all the difference in the world whether a man tries to grab, as you say, or waits respectfully for what should be a free gift, to be worth anything. How strange it seems to be talking quietly of such things! Think of what has happened, what might have happened, and what may take place before night!" "Well, honey, hit's a good ting ter stop tinkin' or ter tink slow sometimes. We couldn't keep a gwine as we wus. Our haids ud whirl right off our shol'ers. Hit's all so peaceful now, why doan you go ter yo' room en tek a nap. Mebbe you git berry lil sleep ter-night." "I reckon your advice is good, mammy. If you have trouble, come to me." As she walked through the garden and shrubbery to the mansion she felt that she was reacting from the strong excitements of the morning into languor and excessive weariness. The idle negroes had partially succumbed to the heat and quiet, and were generally dozing in the sun, even on this eventful day. Perkins, the exacting overseer, had disappeared on the first alarm of Scoville's charge and had not been seen since. When entering the house Zany, who always seemed on the qui vive, told her that her aunts were in their rooms and that Mr. Baron was in his office. Going out on the veranda, the girl saw two or three vigilant Union videttes under a tree. It was evident that they had chosen a point which commanded a good view of the house, outbuildings and quarters. The ridge was still lined with troops, but they appeared to be scattered about at their ease on the ground. The girl's eyes drooped; she wearily climbed to her room and was soon asleep. Many others slept also who would sleep again that night in the stillness of death; others who would groan through coming days and nights in anguished wakefulness. The temporary quiet did not deceive the resting soldiers on either side. They well knew that the active brains of their superiors were at work. Scoville found unexpected duty. He was given a score of men, with orders to scour the roads to the eastward, so that, if best, his general could retire rapidly and in assured safety toward the objective point where he was to unite with a larger force. Instead of resting, the young man was studying topography and enjoying the chicken which had at last caught up with him. He knew the importance of his work and did it thoroughly. Having chosen the road which promised best, he marked it on a map, expecting soon to go over it again as guide. He sighed deeply as he thought that it would lead away from the girl to whom he had devoted his life, yet not because he owed it to her. "If we could only remain together," he thought, "she would learn to give all that I give. The dear little girl is just learning that she is a woman, and is bewildered." Major Jones, who had been skirmishing to delay the Confederate advance, allowed his men and horses to rest when the enemy paused for their mid-day bivouac, and so had come about a cessation of hostilities during which both parties took breath for the coming struggle. Miss Lou was suddenly awakened by a jar which shook the house, followed by a strange, unearthly sound. For an instant she was confused, thinking night had come, so dark was her room. Springing to her window she threw open the blinds. A black, threatening sky met her gaze, the sunlight hidden by a dense bank of clouds, above which towered golden-tipped thunder-heads. The appearance of the ridge puzzled her. The cannon were there, a puff of smoke rolled heavily from one of them; but excepting a few gunners just about the pieces, the long line of men and horses had largely disappeared. Down the lawn from a point not far from the house to the main street and beyond was a line of horsemen, keeping abreast and equidistant from each other. What did it all mean? Facing the ridge on the left of the lawn was an extensive grove, through which the avenue wound in and out, and the line of horsemen was approaching this. Suddenly the very earth trembled and she saw smoke pouring upward among the trees from a rise of ground within the grove. All now became clear to her. While she had slept, the Confederates had come up, taken their position and the battle was beginning. In strong excitement she rushed down to the hall below, where she found her aunts with pallid, frightened faces. On the veranda was Mr. Baron, looking white indeed, but with firm, compressed lips and fiery eyes, watching the opening conflict. "Go in," he said sternly, "this is no place for you." In her intense absorption she did not even hear him. From the edge of the grove and along the avenue were now seen little puffs of smoke, followed by the sharp crack of carbines. The long line of Union skirmishers began to reply in like manner, but it was evident that they found themselves too obvious marks in the open. Here and there men fell from their saddles, and the riderless horses galloped away. The notes of a bugle were heard above the din, and the Union skirmish line retired rapidly to the foot of the ridge. Miss Lou saw all this only as the eyes catch, half-involuntarily, what is passing before them. With an awe almost overwhelming, her attention was absorbed by a phase of war utterly unknown to her--an artillery duel. Two Confederate batteries in the grove had opened and defined their positions. The Union guns replied, shot for shot, in loud explosions, with answering, deep-toned roar. Above the detonations were heard the piercing screams of the shells as they flew back and forth. On the ridge they burst with a sharp crack and puff of vapor, with what effect could only be guessed; but the missiles which shrieked into the grove gave the impression of resistless, demoniacal power. Great limbs and even tops of trees fell crashing after them. Blending faintly with the rending sound which followed were screams and yells. "Well," exclaimed the girl, "if Cousin Mad is there he at least is brave. It seems as if my knees would give way under me." Even as she spoke, a forked line of light burned downward athwart the heavy rising clouds. The smoke of the battle was lurid an instant; then came a peal which dwarfed the thunder of earthly artillery. Strange to say, the sound was reassuring to the girl; it was familiar. "Ah!" she cried, "the voice of heaven is louder than this din, and heaven after all is supreme. This fiery battle will soon be quenched and hot blood cooled." The voice in the sky was unheeded, for entering the lawn from the road, distant from the mansion about an eighth of a mile, was seen a solid gray column. On it went toward the ridge at a sharp trot. "Ah!" groaned Mr. Baron, "now comes the tug of war." The girl screamed and moaned as she saw shells tearing their way through this column, horses and men rolling over on the ground, puffs of smoke which rose revealing frightful gaps; but on flowed the dark gray torrent as if propelled by an invisible, resistless force. Vacancies made by wounds and death were closed almost instantly. In the strange, luminous twilight made by the approaching storm, the impetuous advance was wonderfully distinct in the distance, like a vivid silhouette. As the head of the column drew near the gentle acclivity, it fairly seemed to crumble. Grape shot was now making havoc; but for every man and horse that fell, two apparently came on as from an exhaustless reservoir. High above all sounds now came a yell which, once heard, can never be forgotten, and the Confederate column deployed at a gallop, charging the ridge. The Union skirmish line had already retired to the right, while pouring over the ridge by which they had been hitherto concealed, came rank after rank of men in blue, their deeper chest shouts blending with the shriller cries of their enemies. Charge was being met with counter charge. Cannon were silent, for now friends and foes were too near together. Even the clouds loomed silently, as if in suspense, over the terrific shock of the two lines of approaching cavalry. "Awful! awful!" moaned the girl. "Oh! if Madison is meeting that onset!" shrieked Mrs. Whately, beside herself with horror, yet compelled to look by a terrible fascination. Just as the two opposing forces dashed together a bolt of lightning gleamed over them, turning the upraised sabres for an instant into swords of fire. The crash of thunder followed so swiftly that it appeared to result from the impact of the two charging lines. An impression of annihilation was given, but so far was it from being realized, that the slope was seen to be alive with a struggling, seething mass, waving back and forth, at first downward, then stationary, then gradually upward, upward, until Mr. Baron shouted, "Hurrah! our men are carrying the ridge!" The cry was scarcely uttered before another dark line of horsemen on the far right was seen galloping forward toward the Confederate flank. Again there was another vivid flash, lighting up the scene with a lurid, momentary glare. The peal which followed created the illusion of sounding this new charge or else to be the thunder of the onset. It turned the fortune of the battle on the right, for the Confederates were seen to pause, and finally to give back slowly and stubbornly. Then the advancing rainfall began to blot the combatants from view. Suddenly the Union artillery opened. It seemed to the terrified spectators on the veranda as if the shells were shrieking directly toward them, but the iron bolts tore their way through the grove, although much nearer the house than before. The reason soon became apparent. On that ridge, and within the gloomy shadows of the trees, were officers as coolly observant as if playing a game of chess. They gave no more heed to the terrific peals of thunder than they would have done to so many Chinese gongs. While watching the attack upon his centre and providing against it, General Marston was also seeking to penetrate, by means of a powerful glass, the mask of the grove, and so detected a concentration on his left. Instantly his guns began to shell the grove near the house, where the assaulting force was massing. His reserves were ordered forward, and instructions rapidly given to the colonel who was to repel the attack; meanwhile his field-glass was glued to his eyes. Soon he cried, "It will be their supreme effort. We must strike a stunning blow in order to get away in safety," and he sprang on his horse and started the charge himself. The men, adoring their leader, followed with stern resolve and high enthusiasm. Scoville, who had returned, reported and rested somewhat, knew how critical was the moment. He rode close to the general, but did not fall out when the wary commanding officer permitted the human bolt he had launched to pass beyond him. He was responsible for the entire force, and must do just enough and no more. He must still keep his eyes on all parts of the field and his brain ready to direct when the result of the charge was known. More than the military necessity of repelling the Confederate charge bursting from the grove occupied the mind of Scoville. It looked to him as if the fight would take place about the very home of the girl to whom his heart was so tender, and his impulse was to be near, to protect and defend. The light was fading fast; the fury of the storm, whose preliminary blasts were shaking the dwelling, was coming as if an ally with the galloping Union ranks and threatening the equally impetuous onset of the Confederates. In the very van of the Southern force a vivid flash of lightning revealed Mad Whately, with a sabre of flame. For once he made a heroic figure. His mother saw him and shrieked despairingly, but her voice was lost in the wild uproar of thunder, yells and shouts of the combatants, the shock of steel and crash of firearms. Then torrents of rain, which had approached like a black curtain extending from heaven to earth, hid the awful scene of conflict. It vanished like a dream, and would have seemed but a nightmare had not the ominous sounds continued. Mr. Baron broke the spell which had fallen upon him, dragged his sister and niece within the door, and bolted it with difficulty against the spray-laden gusts. _ |
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