An Unofficial Patriot
Page 14
CHAPTER XIV.--A SILENT HERO.
One evening Griffith sat by the library table reading, and Katherine wasmoving about the room restlessly. For several days no news had comefrom the front--no home news, no letters from the absent sons. The doorleading to the porch was open and suddenly there stood before them amessenger with a telegram. Katherine grew weak and sick. Griffith torethe envelope open and read. She watched his face. Every vestige of bloodhad left it, and his head sank on his arms crossed on the table beforehim. The telegram was crushed in one hand. A groan escaped him, and thena sob shook his frame.
"Which one is it? Which one of my boys is killed? Which--which one?"cried Katherine. She tried to loosen the hand that clasped the message,but he held it crashed, and when he lifted his head tears were streamingdown his cheeks. He tried to reassure her. "It is not _that,_" hesaid hoarsely. "They--the boys are all right, but they have orderedme------." He relaxed his grasp, and his head sank again on his arms.
She took the message and read:
"Washington, D. C.
"Report here immediately.
"A. Lincoln."
For a moment Katherine seemed stunned. She did not comprehend. Then sheseemed to rise far above her normal stature.
"_You shall not go!_" she said. Her eyes blazed. Her hands hung by hersides, but they were clenched until the nails sank into the flesh. Thetigress in her was at last aroused. "You shall _not_ go! How dare he?With three of my boys in the army now! With us reduced to _this!_" Shehad never complained of the change in her style of living, but she flungout the contemptuous fire within her as she stretched out her arms toindicate the simplicity of her surroundings. "With _this_ in exchangefor what we had! With every tie broken! With every luxury and comfortgone! Separated from even the negroes that loved us and begged to comewith us! How _dare_ they ask for further sacrifice from us! How darehe!"
Griffith's head lifted slowly. He looked at her in dismay. Was this thepatient, compliant wife who had willingly given up her fortune andher home to satisfy _his_ conscience? Was this the silent, demure,self-controlled Katherine--this very tall, angry woman? She looked likea fury unchained. She took a step nearer to him.
"You shall _not_ go!" she repeated, and the astonished messenger-boyfled in affright, as she suddenly threw both arms about Griffith andbegan to sob convulsively.
Griffith held her to his breast, which heaved and choked him. It seemedto him that he could not speak. At last he whispered softly: "I mustgo, Katherine. It is an order from the President. I will have to go toWashington." He had not finished speaking until he felt her form beginto shrink and collapse in his grasp.
Her eyes half closed, half opened again, then closed and a ghastlypallor spread itself over her face. For the first time in her lifeKatherine had fainted. His first thought was that she was dead. A greatwave of fear and then of self-reproach swept over him. He sat staring inthe ghastly face.
"I have sacrificed her very life to my conscience," he moaned aloud. "Ihad no right to do that! God help me! God forgive me! What _is_ it rightto do? Can we _never_ know what is right?" He was holding her in hisarms, with his own face upturned and staring eyes. "God help me! Godhelp me! What _is_ it right to do?" he moaned again.
"'Fo' de good Lawd on high, Mos' Grif, what de matter wif Mis' Kate?What de mattah wif all two, bofe of yoh?" exclaimed Aunt Judy. "I donesee dat little rapscallion what brung de telegraf letter run fo' deahlife, an' he yell back dat Mis' Kate done gone crazy, an'--"
Judy had hobbled to his side, and her old eyes were growing used to thechanged light. She saw his tear-stained face and Katherine's lifelessform in his arms.
"Is Mis' Kate daid, Mos' Grif?" she asked, in an awed voice.
"I have killed her," he said, like one in a dream, looking at theold woman as to one who could be relied on to understand. Katherine'seyelids began to move. They slowly lifted and closed again. The oldwoman saw it first.
"Mos' Grif, wat fo' yoh tell me dat kine er talk? Mis' Kate, she ain'tdaid. She's des foolin'. Toh ain't hu'tted, is yoh, honey?" she cooed,stroking Katherine's hair. "Nobody ain't hu'tted yoh, is dey, Mis' Kate?Nobody--"
"Get some water--quick, quick!" said Griffith, and struggled to thecouch with his burden. He knelt beside her and stroked her foreheadand chafed her hands. He could not speak, but he tried to controlhis distorted features, that she might not understand--might notremember--when she should open her eyes.
"Heah some wattah, honey. Des yoh take a big sup. Hit gwine ter do yohgood. Dar, now, I gwine ter lif yoah haid. Now, den, yoh des lay des dataway, an' Aunt Judy gwine ter run an' git dat rabbit foot t Dat gwineter cuah yoh right off. It is dat. Dey ain't no doctah in dis roun'worl' kin cuah yoh like wat dat kin--let erlone one er dees heah Yankeedoctahs! Hit fotch me to you alls dat time wat yoh ranned away, an' hitfetch dem roses back to yoah cheeks, too. Dat hit kin!"
She hobbled off to her loft to find her precious and Griffith softlyclosed and locked the door behind her. Katherine lay so still he thoughtshe had fallen asleep. He could see her breathing. He went to his seatbeside the couch and gently fanned her pale face. The color had comeagain in the lips. Presently he went softly across the room and took upthe crumpled message from the floor, where she had dropped it.
"Report here immediately.
"A. Lincoln."
There could be no mistake about that. It was a command from thePresident, imperative, urgent. He sank into the chair again, and hishead fell on his folded arms on the table. His lips were moving, butthere was no sound. At last he was conscious of a light tapping on thewindow. He was surprised to find that it was dark. He crossed the roomto find Rosanna outside with a tray.
"Shure, an' Oi troied both dures, an' not a sound did Oi git.'Tis longphast yer tay toime, an' not a pick have ye et--nayther wan av yez. Theould nayger's done fed the baby an' put her t' bed. Shure, an' she'sa-galavantin' 'round here thryin' the dures an' windeys, flourishin' thefut ay a bunnie, be jabbers! She says 'tis what yez wants fer yer health;but, sez Oi, _viddles_ is what they wants, sez Oi--an' here they be."
Griffith opened the door.
"Is it wan av the young maisthers kilt, shure?" she whispered, as sheput the tray down.
Griffith shook his head.
"Well, thanks be t' Almoighty God an' all the blished saints! Oi fearedme it was the young maisther--an' shure an' ye'd go fur and not foindthe loikes ay _him_ agin. He looked just simply ghrand in his ossifer'suni_forum_. Yez moight say ghrand! Shure an' nobody else could match upwid 'im! He looked that rehspectable! An' the schape av 'im!" She threwup her hands and admired the absent Beverly. "The schape av 'im! Yezmoight say! He shurely do become them soger close! Now, can't yezate the rear av thim berries? dear? They're simply ghrand, they'reshplendid!"
Katherine seemed to be sleeping, and Griffith soon pushed the trayaside. Rosanna took it up. Then she leaned forward.
"Shure, an' that ould nayger's awful rehspectable; ye can see that bythe lukes ay her; but she's thet foolish with her ould ded bunnie futthet she makes me craipy in me shpine."
She glanced about her before venturing out, and then made a sudden dashfor the kitchen.