An Unofficial Patriot
Page 22
CHAPTER XXII.
_"Thy brother's blood the thirsty earth hath drank."_
Shakespeare.
When Griffith reported at the White House, the President expressedhimself as entirely satisfied. "You have done all I asked;" he said."The maps sent, so far, are wonderfully fine and accurate, I can seethat, and now that you have left a man who is able and willing to takeyour place, that is all I ask. If he should fail us I will send for youagain; but I hope I shall not need to do that. If he is faithful, youhave, indeed, done your whole duty, nobly. I thank you! I thank you!You are a silent hero--a war hero in times of peace and a peace hero intimes of war! I am glad you can go home now. I--I happened to read--Ialways notice your name, now when I see it and--"
Griffith looked at him steadily. There was evidently something bearingon the mind of the President which had to do with Griffith. Mr. Lincolnwas moving toward the table. "Have you read--I suppose you have not seenthe papers lately?"
"Nothing," Griffith said, shaking his head. "What is the news, Mr.Lincoln?"
"Glorious news! A great victory at Shiloh! A _great_ victory; but--"
He turned over several papers and took one up from among the rest.
"What regiments are your sons in?" he asked, looking down the columns.
Griffith put out his hand. "What is the name, Mr. Lincoln? Is he killedor----"
The President retained the paper and feigned to be looking for a name."No, no, missing--according to one account. The other--the news in toomeager yet to--it is confused. We can't be sure, and then this paper isseveral days old beside. I've seen nothing since--nothing at all of him.Here--Roy. Captain Roy Davenport of--"
"Roy is not a captain. That is his brother Beverly. Is Roy----"
"He was promoted on the field, just before he fell--or---- Thispaper----"
Griffith staggered toward the door.
"I must go home. Just before he fell! Poor Katherine! Poor Roy! I mustgo home. I must make haste. How long---- When did you say it was?When----?"
"Wait," said Mr. Lincoln. "Let me try for a message--for accurate newsfor you. Wait." He rang. "Send that message, instantly--to Shiloh--tothe Colonel of the ------ Indiana Infantry, and bring me the reply. Bequick--quick as you can," he said; and the secretary hastened away.
Silence fell between them. Griffith's hand reached out toward the paperMr. Lincoln had let fall, but the long angular arm reached it first,and as if not noticing the movement of Mr. Davenport, he deftly slidit toward the pile of other papers, and then suddenly flung all into aconfused heap as he searched for some article on the table.
"Would you like to go home that way?" They were both thinking of Shiloh,so why mention the name? "Perhaps if you did, you might find--you mighttake him home with you if---- Have you wired his mother that _you_ aresafe, and here on your way home? That was right. That will help her tobear----"
He arose restlessly and placed both hands upon Griffith's shoulders."Mr. Davenport, I can't thank you enough for your services. I wantyou to understand that I _know_ what it all meant to you, and that Iappreciate it at its full value. I hope the time will come when you willlet a grateful country know what you have done and--and----" He held outhis hand for the message as the door had opened for the secretary. Heread and turned the other side up, and then re-read it. "Who is Beverly?Colonel, of--Oh, your son? Oh, this is for you! I did not notice theaddress. I wondered who loved me!" Mr. Lincoln smiled as he handed themessage to his guest. "Roy is wounded, but doing well. Have sent himto Nashville to the Wests. I am unhurt. I love you. Beverly," Griffithread. Then he took out his handkerchief and blew a great blast.
"Was there ever such a boy? To telegraph _that!_" He smiled up at Mr.Lincoln through proud dim eyes. "That is my oldest son--the Captain."The quaver in his voice and the smile in his eyes, drowned as it was inmoisture, touched the great man before him, who took the message againand re-read it as Griffith talked.
"He is a good son. He----"
"He loves you he says, and the other one is doing well. _You_ ought tobe satisfied. A good many fathers are not fixed just that way, to-day!"Mr. Lincoln shook his head sadly from side to side, and the tragic facesank into its depth of gloom again. "Too many fathers have no sons tolove them today--too many, too many," he said gloomily. "When will itall end? _How_ will it all end?" He held out the message as he suddenlyturned to the table. "You will want to keep that. Do you want to go byway of Nashville, now? Or straight home?"
Griffith re-read the message. "Straight home," he said. "He is in goodhands--and--and he is safe. Straight home." Then suddenly, as he foldedthe telegram and placed it in his in-side pocket, "Mr. Lincoln, did youknow I am a deserter?"
"What?"
"Did you know I deserted? The General threatened to shoot me, and--"
"W-h-a-t!"
Griffith told the story of the threat simply, fully. The keen eyeswatched him narrowly. There was a growing fire in them.
"Didn't you know he couldn't shoot you? Didn't you know you were under_me_? Didn't you know--"
"I didn't think of that at first, Mr. Lincoln. I thought he could,and--I thought he would, for a little while. I was----"
"If he had," said the President, rising and showing more fire than hehad exhibited before, "well, if he had, all I've got to say, is thatthere'd a' been two of you shot!" Then, recalling himself he smiledgrimly. "If he does his share as well as you've done yours, I'll besatisfied."
"Before I go, Mr. Lincoln, I wanted to speak to you about a littlematter. You said something just now about a grateful country,and--but-- I recall that you--I understood you to-- The fact is, when Iwas here before, I somehow got the idea that you were willing to--to payand to give a Colonel's commission! and--and emoluments--to one whocould do this service, and----"
Mr. Lincoln dropped the hand he held, and an indescribable change passedover the tall form and the face, which made both less pleasant to see.But he smiled, as he passed his hand over his face, and turning towardthe table with a tired expression, reached for a pen.
"You've sort of concluded that the job is worth pay, have you?"
"Yes, it's worth all you can afford to pay, Mr. Lincoln; it is extremelydangerous business. Is the offer still open?"
The President gave an imperceptible shrug to his loose shoulders, anddrew a sheet of paper toward him.
"Certainly. Commission?" he said as he began to write.
"Yes, if you will. A Colonel's commission and pay dating all back to thebeginning of my service--if that is right."
Mr. Lincoln nodded, but there was a distinctly chilly air creeping intohis tone. "Y-e-s. Of course.'Nything else?"
"I don't see hardly how you can date it back either, without----"
"Oh yes, I can date it back to the beginning of your service," he saidwearily, "but I don't know----"
"I guess you'll have to just put it Col. L. Patterson, for I don't knowhis real name, the baptismal one. Known him all my life just as Lengthy,but of course that won't----"
"What!" the President had turned to face him, but Griffith was stilllooking contemplatively out of the window, and did not notice the suddenchange of tone and position.
"It will give him a certain standing with the men--and with theGeneral--that he will need--and deserve, and--and--and the rest is righttoo, for _him_, if--"
Mr. Lincoln thrust his fingers back and forth through his alreadydisheveled hair, and at last burst out: "Can't say that I exactlyget your idea. I understood you to say that you had changed your mindabout--about wanting the rank of Colonel, and--and the pay for----"
He was looking full at Griffith, and the preacher's eyes traveled backfrom the distant hills and fell upon the face before him. It struck himthat the face looked tired and worn. He pulled himself up sharply, forthe dull way he had been presenting the case, and his reply was in afuller, freer voice, with a brisker air of attention to business.
"Certainly, certainly, Mr. Lincoln, that's it exactly." Then witha lowered voice: "Perhaps you don'
t realize, Mr. Lincoln, that everyinstant a man in that situation, who is known and recognized, and whoholds no commission, and wears no federal uniform, has his life in hishands--is in more danger than any soldier ever is, and--"
"Realize! Didn't I tell you so? Didn't I ask you to go better protected?Didn't I--?"
Griffith waved his hand and went on.
"I somehow couldn't bring myself to take the attitude and position ofa soldier. I am a man of peace, a non-combatant, a clergyman, and--andthen there was some sort of sentiment--of---- Mr. Lincoln, it isn'tnecessary to try to explain _my_ position. The fact is, I doubt ifI could, if I tried, make you understand wholly; but I want thisGovernment to protect Lengthy Patterson with all the power and all thedevices it has. And I want him to have a commission that will place himwhere he will receive respect and consideration in our own ranks; andif he is captured. I want money paid to him to live on afterward, if heshould be hurt--and he can never live in his old home again. I want--"He had risen and was standing near the President again. His voice hadgrown intense in its inflection. "Lengthy Patterson has taken my place,and I want--and--if you will just give him all that--I don't see how youcan date it back either, or he will suspect that _I_ am paying him--andhe wouldn't take a cent; but if--can't you just----"
A great gleam of light seemed to break over the ragged face of thePresident. He arose suddenly, and threw one arm around Griffith'sshoulders, and grasped his hand again.
"God bless my soul! Certainly! Of course! By the lord Harry, I didn'tunderstand you at first, I-- Why, certainly, the man who took yourplace shall have both the commission that will shield him and the payhe deserves, certainly, certainly!" They were moving toward the door."Anything else, Mr. Davenport?"
"I reckon you will have to let him think that _I_ took--that I was bothcommissioned and--and paid, Mr. Lincoln, or he won't take it--and--andthere isn't the least reason why _he_ should not. He _must._ Can I leaveit all--will you see that----?"
"Oh, yes, yes, that's all right. I'll fix that-- I'm glad it's thatway----" He broke off and took Griffith's hand. "Well, good-bye. Goodbye.I hope, when we meet again, it will not be--I hope this war will be over,and that I shall have no more need to test men like you. But--ah, youhave a son who loves you and the other one is safe! I wish to heaven allloyal men were as well off as you are to-night. I am glad for you, andyet I sometimes think I shall never feel really glad again," and thestrong homely face sank from its gently quizzical smile into the depthsof a mood which had come to be its daily cast. He stretched out his handfor another message, and stood reading it as Griffith closed the doorbehind him. "New Orleans is ours," was all that the message said, butMr. Lincoln sighed with relief and with pain. Victory was sweet, butcarnage tortured his great and tender soul. The sadly tragic facedeepened again in its lines, and yet he said softly, as he turned to hisdesk: "Thank God! Thank God! one more nail is driven into the coffin ofthe Confederacy. Let us hope that rebellion is nearly ready to lie downin it and keep still. Then perhaps we can be glad again--perhaps we canforget!"