A Little Traitor to the South

by Cyrus Townsend Brady

  CHAPTER XIV

  THE WOMAN EXPLAINS

  "I think they would believe me against even you," answered Sempland. "Iwould tell them that you--ah--love me and that you are trying to saveme. And more, if you say one word to General Beauregard, or any oneelse about it after you leave this room, I give you my word of honor Iwill declare that I was afraid to go and that I stayed with you."

  "Why will you be so foolish?" she asked.

  "Because I love you," he burst out, "that's the only reason. I havetold you before, but you did not seem to believe it, at least you didnot appear to care; but now it won't hurt you to hear it once more. Youwon't have to hear it again from me. It's the last time. I expect everymoment they will be here to summon me before the court-martial, so Imust tell you now. You are a cruel, heartless coquette. You encouragedLacy--"

  "I did not!" indignantly.

  "And you didn't discourage me."

  "How dare you say so?"

  "Last night when I held you in my arms and kissed you--"

  "I was powerless--"

  "When I released you you clasped me around the neck and returned mycaress. I'll swear you did, and all the time you had another man inyour heart."

  "Another man?" she exclaimed in great astonishment.

  "Yes. That man on the _Wabash_!"

  "Oh, the man on the _Wabash_!"

  "Yes. You wanted to save him. So you played with me. Why weren't youhonest about it? Why didn't you tell me the truth? But no, you chose todisgrace me for him. Well, you succeeded. I shall pay the penalty. Ishall keep silent for your sake. He may have you and you may have him,but my death will be ever between you. The burden of obligation will beheavy upon you both, more than you can carry!"

  He had worked himself up into a jealous rage by this time. Hisself-control was completely gone.

  "Who is this man?" he burst out at last, while she took a wicked joy inhis misapprehension.

  "His--his--name--is--" she spoke slowly and with seeming reluctance,as if to spare him.

  "Then there is a man? Good God! I had hoped, in spite of everything,that I might have been mistaken, that you acted so for some otherreason. Do you love him?"

  "Yes," faintly, turning away her head.

  "Do you really love him, or are you making a fool of him as you did ofme?"

  "But I--love you, too," she said demurely, slowly dropping her head sothat her face was half hidden from his intent gaze.

  "How can you love both of us?" he exclaimed, angered beyond enduranceby her apparent coquetry.

  "It's--it's--different," she answered demurely.

  "If Lacy were here, I suppose he would understand, but women such asyou are beyond me."

  "It seems so."

  "But why prolong this interview longer, Miss Glen? Your secret is safewith me. Probably you came here to learn that. I will not allow you tobetray it, either;"--how inconsistent he was, she thought;--"you knowthat I love you, and I know that you do not love me, that your heart iswith that man on the ship. Won't you please leave me to myself? Ireally shall need all my self-command, my strength, to face thecourt-martial, and you--you--unman me. I thank you for coming to seeme, but--forgive my apparent discourtesy--I would rather be alone.Good-by."

  "Wait," she said. "That man on the _Wabash_--"

  "By heaven!" he interrupted savagely--he was a man of somewhatelemental passions when he was aroused, and he was thoroughly arousedthen--"have you no mercy, no pity? This is too much! I don't want tohear a word about him. Whoever he is I--"

  "Stop, sir!" cried the girl, impressively, "or you will say somethingfor which you will be sorry."

  "Sorry! I should like to have him within reach of my hand!" he saidgrimly, extending his arm as he spoke, and his expression was notpleasant to see. "I'd--"

  "I am sure," she went on hurriedly, cutting him off, "you would not doa thing to him if he stood right here."

  "Would I not? And pray, why not?" he asked her bitterly.

  "Because--"

  She stopped, reluctant to disclose her secret. Once she did so herpower was gone.

  "Because--" she said again.

  "Tell me in heaven's name! You torture me!"

  "Because he--is--my--"

  Again she stopped, and again his anxiety got the better of him. Hecaught her hands in his own and held them with a grasp that hurt her.

  "My God, will you cease this cruelty? He is not your--you are notreally married to him, are you?"

  "Hardly. Let go of my hands," she answered, striving to draw away: yetfor a fairly strong young woman she exhibited an astonishing feeblenessin her endeavor.

  "Who is he?" with imperious insistence.

  "My father--there! Now, will you release me?"

  "Your father! And there is no other man?" in great bewilderment,through which the glimmering of greater relief began to shine.

  She shook her head.

  "And you did this for him alone?"

  "No-o-o," with reluctance, "not altogether for him alone."

  "Who else then?"

  "I told you last night," she answered evasively.

  "For me?"

  "Ye-es," faintly. "I could not bear to see you lose your--your life."

  Slowly she felt herself being drawn nearer to him. She struggledfeebly, glad to be overborne by his superior strength. In anothermoment she was in his arms for the second time. Her head was bent downtoward his waistcoat pocket. Holding her safe with one arm he put hishand under her chin, and turned her face upward. There were blushes onher cheeks, laughter and tears in her eyes. The interrupted kisstrembled upon her lips, and he--well, this time it was longer than thenight before and more satisfying. As he kissed her her arms went aroundhis neck again.

  "There was no other man," she whispered, "there never was any one butyou. I did wrong, very wrong, but my father and you--that was myexcuse. And I loved you all the time."

  When there was opportunity some moments later for articulateconversation, he endeavored to solve the mystery of her paternity, theunderstanding of which he had put by in the face of more pressingbusiness--or pleasure.

  "Then your name isn't Fanny Glen?"

  "That's part of it."

  "What's the rest of it?"

  "Fanny Glen Vernon."

  "What! Is Admiral Vernon your father?"

  "He is."

  "How is that?"

  "When the war broke out he stayed with the North, was true to his flag,he said. I had seen little of him since my mother's death, when I wasten years old. I was a Southern woman. It seemed monstrous to me. Ibegged and implored him, but uselessly, and finally our relations werebroken off. So I dropped the name of Vernon, and came here to work forour cause, the rest you know. But I could not let him be blown upunsuspecting, could I? If he were killed in action, it would beterrible enough, but this was a dreadful ending. I thought--I don'tknow what I thought. I love the South, but--"

  "I understand, my dearest," he said, in no condition to understandanything very clearly, and caring little for the moment for anythingexcept that she loved him.

  "And you forgive me?"

  "Forgive you? With all my soul. This moment with you in my arms, withyour arms around my neck, with your kisses upon my lips, with yourwords in my ear, with your love in my heart--this makes up foreverything! I shall go to my death gladly."

  "To your death!" she exclaimed, drawing away from him in surprise andalarm.

  "Yes. Your confession to me makes no difference."

  "But I will tell the general."

  "I forbid it! Darling, you have committed an act of treason to theSouth, and while your love for your father--and for me--has explainedit, you could not make such a plea as that before any court-martialcomposed of soldiers. You would only harm yourself, and you would nothelp me, and so I won't allow it."

  "But I must tell the general!" she persisted.

  "Dearest, no," said Sempland, smiling fondly at her. "We willanticipate what might have been. If all had gone well, you would h
avepromised to obey me before the altar. Would you not?"

  She nodded with astonishing docility.

  "Well, then--"

  "And if I will not?"

  "Why, then, I shall have to discredit you, as I threatened, and my ownsituation will be more serious than before, for I shall brand myself asa coward, as well, and you would not like your lover to have thatstigma on him."

  "You will not let me save you, then?"

  "No," answered the man, sighing deeply, "and life is so different to menow. I didn't care an hour ago what happened, but now--"

  There was a tap on the door.

  "What is it?" he called out impatiently.

  "It's me, Lieutenant Sempland--Sergeant Slattery," answered thesergeant of the guard, a whilom friend to the prisoner. "On me ownaccount, sor, I come to tell ye that they'll be afther comin' for ye ina few minutes, an' ye'd better git ready fer 'em. If ye haveanythin'--any preparations to make, ye'd better be quick about it,sor."

  "Thank you," answered Sempland. "You hear, dearest? You must go. I musthave a moment to myself to enable me to face this court-martial. Leaveme now, I beg of you. Go home. After it is over I shall ask permissionof the general to have you visit me."

  "I cannot go," said Fanny Glen, archly.

  "Why not?"

  "I am a prisoner."

  "A prisoner! What for?"

  "For treachery, disobedience of orders, oh, everything!" she answeredglibly.

  "What do you mean?"

  "General Beauregard sent me here this morning. The court-martial is forme, not you. They're going to set you free and I am to be tried andshot, it may be."

  "Nonsense! How did he find out?"

  "I told him myself. I didn't disobey you, you see. You had notforbidden me to do it then."

  "What did you tell him?"

  "That Admiral Vernon was my father, and that I kept you--I--I--lovedyou."

  "Great heavens! And--"

  "And then he called the adjutant-general and they whispered together amoment, and then he sent me here."

  "Why did you do it?" cried the man, reproachfully. "They will punishyou in some way. I would rather have died than have you tell. Whatshall we do now?"

  CHAPTER XV

  THE GENERAL'S LITTLE COMEDY

  There was a hurried movement on the part of the sentry in the corridor,followed by the trampling of many feet. Sabres clanked, voices brokethe stillness. Fanny Glen was really frightened now. They were coming.They were there. What were they about to do to her? Of course, theywould not shoot her,--she was reasonably sure of that,--but in anyevent she was certain to be parted from her lover. She drew nearer tohim as the door was opened.

  On the threshold stood General Beauregard himself, his visage chargedwith an unusual degree of solemnity. Back of him were grouped themembers of his staff and others who had been on the wharf the nightbefore. They were all in full uniform and made a most impressive sight.It was a highly dramatic moment, full of menace to the woman. As forSempland, he scarcely comprehended it.

  "The court-martial!" whispered Fanny Glen, fearfully, instinctivelyshrinking closer to Sempland as she spoke.

  That officer knew, of course, that no court-martial was everinaugurated in that manner, but he said nothing. He did not understand.He would await developments. Something was in the wind, certainly. Whatcould it be?

  "Captain Sempland," said the general, formally, advancing further intothe room, followed by the rest, "you are relieved from arrest, sir,and--"

  "Captain Sempland?" murmured Sempland in great surprise.

  "Yes, sir, Captain Sempland," with marked emphasis on the title. "Youare restored to duty forthwith, sir," continued the general, smiling athis astonished subordinate. "The charges of neglect of duty anddisobedience of orders which I made last night and repeated thismorning are withdrawn. There never was any suspicion of cowardice ortreason. Although you did not succeed, having been prevented by causesbeyond your control, as I now learn, from taking out the _David_, yetyour earnest desire to do so, the fact that you volunteered for thedetail, and even besought me to give it to you, the extreme measures towhich you resorted to escape from confinement in order to carry outyour orders, even going so far as to threaten a lady, warrant me inpromoting you. Here," receiving the weapon from one of the staffofficers, "is your sword. I return it to you." Next the general drewsome papers from his coat. "Here is your commission as captain. Hereare orders which take you to the Army of Northern Virginia. They areaccompanied by a personal letter to my friend, General Lee, in which Ihave asked him to give you a position on his staff with all itsopportunities for useful service and distinction. May you reflectcredit, as I have no doubt you will, upon the South, the state of SouthCarolina, and all our hopes and ambitions for you. Gentlemen," to theothers, "you are all witnesses to this rehabilitation of CaptainSempland."

  The room was instantly filled with the sound of hearty cheering fromthe officers in attendance.

  "General Beauregard, you have overwhelmed me," faltered Sempland assoon as he could make himself heard. "I have done nothing to deservethis honor."

  Beauregard stepped nearer to him.

  "You would have sacrificed your life for a woman," whispered thegallant little general, approvingly. "I understand." Then he saidaloud: "See that you strive to merit our trust and confidence in thefuture, then. You will have many chances for great deeds with GeneralLee. Would that I were with him!"

  "General," said the young man, "your kindness emboldens me. This lady,sir--"

  "Is a prisoner," said the general, shortly.

  "I know it, sir. She committed a terrible blunder, yet--"

  "Gentlemen," said Beauregard, turning to his staff officers, "you knowthe story of last night. How this lady interfered to prevent animportant military manoeuvre, the object of which was the destructionof the Federal flagship by a torpedo, and incidentally the probabledeath of Captain Sempland. Such conduct is essentially treasonable,especially in a state of war. What is the punishment for such actionsin the face of the enemy?"

  "Death, sir," returned the adjutant-general, solemnly.

  "Are you all agreed as to that, gentlemen?"

  "We are, sir," was the unanimous reply.

  They had been well tutored in the little comedy which the general hadarranged, it was evident.

  "Impossible, sir!" cried Sempland, in agony. They deceived even himwith their seriousness. "This is most irregular! I protest--"

  "I am ready, gentlemen," whispered Fanny Glen, bravely, turning verywhite as she spoke, and not appearing at all ready in fact, "I--I--amglad to--suffer, since Captain Sempland--" she faltered with amiserable attempt at courage.

  "One moment, please," broke in the little general, imperatively. "But,gentlemen, the culprit has otherwise deserved well of her country, asyou know. During the war her services in the general hospital have beenbeyond price. She is a woman. On the ship which it was proposed to blowup was her father, Admiral Vernon, a South Carolinian, whose ideas ofduty led him to continue his services to the United States. These aremitigating circumstances. Here is no treachery to the South, merely awoman's desire to save her father from a swift and sudden death. Nomischance has arisen from her action. Major Lacy took out the boat withhis usual distinction, although, fortunately for the lady and theadmiral, the _Housatonic_ seems to have suffered instead of the_Wabash_. Under these circumstances, I think, it does not behoove us tobe too severe. You agree with me, I am sure, gentlemen?"

  "Certainly, sir, we do," replied the officers in chorus.

  "Thank you! thank you!" exclaimed Fanny Glen, gratefully, withboundless relief in her voice.

  By this time she was as close to Sempland as she could get, andentirely unconscious of what he was doing, the latter had thrown hisarm protectingly around her waist.

  "Wait, Miss Glen," said the general, severely, lifting his hand andchecking her further speech, "you cannot think to escape scot free.Such actions cannot go entirely unpunished. So long as Miss Fanny Gle
nexists she must suffer for her actions. You are agreed with me,gentlemen?"

  "We are, sir."

  It was remarkable the unanimity with which they all supported theirgeneral's decisions on so serious a matter, and practically withoutdeliberation.

  "Captain Sempland, as a soldier, I am sure you will acquiesce in theviews of your brother officers."

  Sempland bit his lip. Fanny Glen nestled closer to him and looked up athim beseechingly.

  "Oh, General!" he said at last. "Isn't there some way out of it?"

  "There may be," said the general, solemnly. "Let me think a moment.Suppose--ah, suppose, Miss Fanny Glen were to disappear?"

  "But where can I go, sir?" asked the girl, nervously. "All that Ilove--" she observed a smile flickering upon the general's lips as sheglanced at Sempland. "I mean everybody and everything that I love ishere." She stamped her foot impatiently. "You won't send me to theUnion fleet? I know my father is safe--but I love the South. I willnever do anything wrong again if you won't send me away!" she pleaded.

  It was, indeed, a sweeping promise, one she could scarcely have kept.

  "There are other ways by which Miss Fanny Glen might disappear," saidBeauregard, gravely.

  "How, sir?"

  "You might change your name--again!"

  "Change my name?"

  "Yes. You might become--Mrs. Rhett Sempland, let us say!"

  "O-o-oh!" cried the girl, blushing furiously and drawing away from herlover's side.

  "Quite so," answered the general with deep gravity, too deep not to besuspicious, while Sempland's heart leaped with happiness. This was themeaning of the general's little play, then?

  "Proceedings which would have to be instituted against Fanny Glen couldthen be allowed to drop," continued Beauregard, enjoying the situationimmensely. "Is not that a solution, gentlemen?" he asked, throwing backhis head and laughing cheerfully at the pleasant ending of the littlecomedy he had planned, which pleased the small audience hugely.

  "That is the happiest of all solutions, sir," said Sempland, takingFanny Glen's hands.

  "I won't be married simply to save my life," said the girl.

  "Of course not," said the general. "Yet either you must becourt-martialled or Mr. Sempland will be."

  "I--I might do it--to save--his life, sir," she said, blushingfuriously again.

  "However it is done--" said Sempland, "however it may be brought about,it satisfies me completely."

  "'If 'twere done when 'tis done, 'twere well 'twere done quickly,'"quoted the general with striking appositeness, greatly delighted at theoutcome of the affair.

  "I agree with you entirely, sir," returned Sempland, smiling--it wasthe part of wisdom for a captain to agree with a general always, andthe way of prudence was the path of pleasure in this instance.

  "Captain Sempland," said Beauregard, "your orders need not be carriedout until to-morrow. There will be time enough before that time for awedding, in which, in the absence of her father, I promise myself thepleasure of giving away the bride. Now, gentlemen, we will leavethe--ah--two culprits to talk it over for a few moments. Let me knowyour decision, Miss Glen, as soon as may be, that I may decide whetherto assemble or dissolve the court. And rest assured the happenings oflast night and this morning, so far as they concern Miss Glen, are notto be spoken outside this room by any one. Good morning."

  * * * * *

  "Fanny Glen," said Sempland, when they were alone once more, "are youmarrying me to save yourself?"

  She shook her head.

  "Rhett Sempland, are you marrying me," she asked in return, "to saveyourself?"

  "I am marrying you, you little darling, as you very well know, becauseI love you."

  "And that is my reason, too," said Fanny Glen.

  "Fanny Glen," he said imperiously, "come here!"

  And to him she came with astonishing meekness.

  "Put your arms around my neck!"

  And obediently there she put them!

  "Lift up your head!"

  Slowly, surely, up it came!

  After all, Fanny Glen did love a masterful man!