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An Original Belle, a novel by Edward Payson Roe |
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Chapter 39. The Cure Of Captain Lane |
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_ CHAPTER XXXIX. THE CURE OF CAPTAIN LANE A DAINTIER bouquet than usual was placed on Lane's table next morning, and the piece of chicken sent to his breakfast was broiled to the nicest turn of brown. The old colored cook was friendly to the "Linkum ossifer," and soon discovered that "Missy S'wanee" was not averse to a little extra painstaking. After the surgeon had made his morning rounds the young girl visited the men also. She found them doing well, and left them doing better; for, in rallying the wounded, good cheer and hopefulness can scarcely be over-estimated. As she was returning the surgeon met her, and said, "Captain Lane is already better for your first visit and impatient for another." "Then he's both patient and impatient. A very contradictory and improper condition to remain in. I can read to him at once, after I have seen if mamma wishes anything." "Please do; and with your permission I'll take a little walk, for I, too, am restless from inaction." "I don't think it's nice for you to read alone with that officer," said Roberta. "I see no impropriety at all," cried Suwanee. "Yours and mamma's rooms are but a few yards away, and you can listen to all we say if you wish. If your colonel was sick and wounded at the North wouldn't you like some woman to cheer him up?" "No, not if she were as pretty as you are," replied Roberta, laughing. "Nonsense," said Suwanee, flushing. "For all I know this captain is married and at the head of a large family. "But I'm going to find out," she assured herself. "I shall investigate this new species of genus homo who imagines me to be a saint. He wasn't long in proving that Northern men were not what I supposed. Now I shall give him the harder task of proving me to be an angel;" and she walked demurely in, leaving the door open for any espionage that her mother and sister might deem proper. Lane's face lighted up the moment he saw her, and he said: "You have robbed this day of its weariness already. I've had agreeable anticipations thus far, and I'm sure you will again leave pleasant memories." "Then you are better?" "Yes; thanks to you." "You are given to compliments, as our Southern men are." "I should be glad to equal them at anything in your estimation. But come, such honest enemies as we are should be as sincere as friends. I have meant every word I have said to you. You are harboring me, an entire stranger, who presented my credentials at first very rudely. Now you can ask me any questions you choose. You have proved yourself to be such a genuine lady that I should be glad to have you think that I am a gentleman by birth and breeding." "Oh, I was convinced of that before you put your sabre in its scabbard on the evening of your most unwelcome arrival, when you spoiled our supper-party. You have since been confirming first impressions. I must admit, however, that I scarcely 'reverence' you yet, nor have I detected anything specially 'angelic.'" "Your failure in these respects will be the least of my troubles. I do not take back what I have said, however." "Wait; perhaps you will. You are very slightly acquainted with me, sir." "You are much less so with me, and can't imagine what an obstinate fellow I am." "Oh, if I have to contend with obstinacy rather than judgment--" "Please let us have no contentions whatever. I have often found that your Southern men out-matched me, and not for the world would I have a dispute with a woman of your mettle. I give you my parole to do all that you wish, as far as it is within my power, while I am helpless on your hands." "And when I have helped to make you well you will go and fight against the South again?" "Yes, Miss Barkdale," gravely, "and so would your officers against the North." "Oh, I know it. I sha'n't put any poison in your coffee." "Nor will you ever put poison in any man's life. The most delightful thing about you, Miss Barkdale," he continued, laughing, "is that you are so genuinely good and don't know it." "Whatever happens," she said, almost irritably, "you must be cured of that impression. I won't be considered 'good' when I'm not. Little you know about me, indeed! Good heavens, Captain Lane! what kind of women have you been accustomed to meet in the North? Would they put strychnine in a wounded Southerner's food, and give him heavy bread, more fatal than bullets, and read novels while dying men were at their very doors?" "Heaven help them! I fear there are many women the world over who virtually do just those things." "They are not in the South," she replied, hotly. "They are evidently not in this house," he replied, smiling. "You ask what kind of women I am accustomed to meet. I will show you the shadow of one of my friends;" and he took from under his pillow a photograph of Marian. "Oh, isn't she lovely!" exclaimed the girl. "Yes, she is as beautiful as you are; she is as brave as you are, and I've seen you cheering on your friends when even in the excitement of the fight my heart was filled with dread lest you or your mother or sister might be shot. She is just as ardent for the North as you are for the South, and her influence has had much place in the motives of many who are now in the Union army. If wounded Confederates were about her door you could only equal--you could not surpass--her in womanly kindness and sympathy. The same would be true of my mother and sisters, and millions of others. I know what you think of us at the North, but you will have to revise your opinions some day." Her face was flushed, a frown was upon her brow, a doubtful smile upon her lips, and her whole manner betokened her intense interest. "You evidently are seeking to revise them," she said, with a short laugh, "much as you charged our cavalry the other evening. I think you are a dangerous man to the South, Captain Lane, and I don't know whether I should let you get well or not." He reached out his hand and took hers, as he said, laughingly: "I should trust you just the same, even though Jeff Davis and the whole Confederate Congress ordered you to make away with me." "Don't you call our President 'Jeff,'" she snapped, but did not withdraw her hand. "I beg your pardon. That was just as rude in me as if you had called Mr. Lincoln 'Abe.'" She now burst out laughing. "Heaven knows we do it often enough," she said. "I was aware of that." "This won't do at all," she resumed. "Your hand is growing a little feverish, and if my visits do not make you better I shall not come. I think we have defined our differences sufficiently. You must not 'reverence' me any more. I couldn't stand that at all. I will concede at once that you are a gentleman, and that this lovely girl is my equal; and when our soldiers have whipped your armies, and we are free, I shall be magnanimous, and invite you to bring this girl here to visit us on your wedding trip. What is her name?" "Marian Vosburgh. But I fear she will never take a wedding trip with me. If she did I would accept your invitation gratefully after we had convinced the South that one flag must protect us all." "We won't talk any more about that. Why won't Miss Vosburgh take a wedding trip with you?" "For the best of reasons,--she doesn't love me well enough." "Stupid! Perhaps she loves some one else?" "No, I don't think so. She is as true a friend as a woman can be to a man, but there it ends." "With her." "Certainly, with her only. She knows that I would do all that a man can to win her." "You are frank." "Why should I not be with one I trust so absolutely? You think us Northmen cold, underhanded. I do not intend virtually to take my life back from your hands, and at the same time to keep that life aloof from you as if you had nothing to do with it. If I survive the war, whichever way it turns, I shall always cherish your memory as one of my ideals, and shall feel honored indeed if I can retain your friendship. To make and keep such friends is to enrich one's life. Should I see Miss Vosburgh again I shall tell her about you, just as I have told you about her." "You were born on the wrong side of the line, Captain Lane. You are a Southerner at heart." "Oh, nonsense! Wait till you visit us at the North. You will find people to your mind on both sides of the line. When my mother and sisters have learned how you have treated me and my men they will welcome you with open arms." She looked at him earnestly a moment, and then said: "You make me feel as if the North and South did not understand each other." Then she added, sadly: "The war is not over. Alas! how much may happen before it is. My gray-haired father and gallant brothers are marching with Lee, and while I pray for them night and morning, and often through the day, I fear--I FEAR inexpressibly,--all the more, now that I have seen Northern soldiers fight. God only knows what is in store for us all. Do not think that because I seem light-hearted I am not conscious of living on the eve of a tragedy all the time. Tears and laughter are near together in my nature. I can't help it; I was so made." "Heaven keep you and yours in safety," said Lane, earnestly; and she saw that his eyes were moist with feeling. "This won't answer," she again declared, hastily. "We must have no more such exciting talks. Shall I read to you a little while, or go at once?" "Read to me, by all means, if I am not selfishly keeping you too long. Your talk has done me good rather than harm, for you are so vital yourself that you seem to give me a part of your life and strength. I believe I should have died under the old dull monotony." "I usually read the Bible to your men," she said, half humorously, half questioningly. "Read it to me. I like to think we have the same faith. That book is the pledge that all differences will pass away from the sincere." He looked at her wonderingly as she read, in her sweet, girlish voice, the sacred words familiar since his childhood; and when she rose and said, "This must do for to-day," his face was eloquent with his gratitude. He again reached out his hand, and said, gently, "Miss Suwanee, Heaven keep you and yours from all harm." "Don't talk to me that way," she said, brusquely. "After all, we are enemies, you know." "If you can so bless your enemies, what must be the experience of your friends, one of whom I intend to be?" "Roberta must read to you, in order to teach you that the South cannot be taken by storm." "I should welcome Miss Roberta cordially. We also shall be good friends some day." "We must get you well and pack you off North, or there's no telling what may happen," she said, with a little tragic gesture. "Good-by." This was the beginning of many talks, though no other was of so personal a nature. They felt that they understood each other, that there was no concealment to create distrust. She artlessly and unconsciously revealed to him her life and its inspirations, and soon proved that her mind was as active as her hands. She discovered that Lane had mines of information at command, and she plied him with questions about the North, Europe, and such parts of the East as he had visited. Her father's library was well stored with standard works, and she made him describe the scenes suggested by her favorite poets. Life was acquiring for her a zest which it had never possessed before, and one day she said to him, abruptly, "How you have broadened my horizon!" He also improved visibly in her vivacious society, and at last was able to come down to his meals and sit on the piazza. Mrs. Barkdale's and Roberta's reserve thawed before his genial courtesy, and all the more readily since a letter had been received from Colonel Barkdale containing thanks to Lane for the consideration that had been shown to his family, and assuring his wife that the Barkdale mansion must not fail in hospitality either to loyal friends or to worthy foes. Roberta was won over more completely than she had believed to be possible. Her proud, high spirit was pleased with the fact that, while Lane abated not one jot of his well-defined loyalty to the North and its aims, he also treated her with respect and evident admiration in her fearless assertion of her views. She also recognized his admirable tact in preventing their talk from verging towards a too-earnest discussion of their differences. Suwanee was delighted as she saw him disarm her relatives, and was the life of their social hours. She never wearied in delicately chaffing and bewildering the good-natured but rather matter-of-fact Surgeon McAllister, and it often cost Lane much effort to keep from exploding in laughter as he saw the perplexed and worried expression of his friend. But before the meal was over she would always reassure her slow-witted guest by some unexpected burst of sunshine, and he afterwards would remark, in confidence: "I say, Lane, that little 'Missy S'wanee' out-generals a fellow every time. She attacks rear, flank, and front, all at once, and then she takes your sword in such a winsome way that you are rather glad to surrender." "Take care, McAllister,--take care, or you may surrender more than your sword." "I think you are in the greater danger." "Oh, no, I'm forearmed, and Miss Suwanee and I understand each other." But he did not understand her, nor did she comprehend herself. Her conversation seemed as open, and often as bright as her Southern sunshine, and his mind was cheered and delighted with it. He did not disguise his frank, cordial regard for her, even before her mother and sister, but it was ever blended with such a sincere respect that she was touched and surprised by it, and they were reassured. She had told them of the place possessed by Marian in his thoughts, and this fact, with his manner, promised immunity from all tendencies towards sentiment. Indeed, that Suwanee should bestow anything more upon the Northern officer than kindness, a certain chivalric hospitality, and some admiration, was among the impossibilities in their minds. This, at the time, seemed equally true to the young girl herself. Not in the least was she on her guard. Her keen enjoyment of his society awakened no suspicions, for she enjoyed everything keenly. His persistence in treating her, in spite of all her nonsense and frolicsomeness, as if she were worthy of the deepest respect and honor which manhood can pay to womanhood, ever remained a bewildering truth, and touched the deepest chords in her nature. Sometimes when they sat in the light of the young moon on the veranda she revealed thoughts which surprised him, and herself even more. It appeared to her as if a new and deeper life were awakening in her heart, full of vague beauty and mystery. She almost believed that she was becoming good, as he imagined. Why otherwise should she be so strangely happy and spiritually exalted? He was developing in her a new self-respect. She now knew that he was familiar with standards of comparison at the North of which she need not be ashamed. Even her mother and sister had remarked, in effect, "It is evident that Captain Lane has been accustomed to the best society." His esteem was not the gaping admiration of a boor to whom she had been a revelation. "No," she said, "he is a revelation to me. I thought my little prejudices were the boundaries of the world. He, who has seen the world, walks right over my prejudices as if they were nothing, and makes me feel that I am his friend and equal, because he fancies I possess a true, noble womanhood; and now I mean to possess it. He has made his ideal of me seem worthy and beautiful, and it shall be my life effort to attain it. He doesn't think me a barbarian because I am a rebel and believe in slavery. He has said that his mother and sisters would receive me with open arms. It seems to me that I have grown years older and wiser during the last few weeks." She did not know that her vivid, tropical nature was responding to the influence which is mightiest even in colder climes. _ |
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