Love under Fire

by Randall Parrish

  CHAPTER XII

  AN ATTEMPT AT ESCAPE

  The seriousness of my situation was clearly apparent, yet what could Ido in order to save myself? My word was pledged, and it was evident thegirl had no intention of betraying my presence. But would she come tome? Would she give me the opportunity of escape? It must be accomplishednow if at all, before Le Gaire returned, or had time to complete hisround of the pickets. Every instant of delay robbed me of a chance--andmy life hung in the balance. There was little doubt as to that; I couldadvance no military reason for being treated other than as a spy, and myfate would be the short shift meted out to such over the drum-head. Allthis swept through my brain as I listened to the hoofs of Le Gaire'shorse pound the gravel outside, the sound dying away in the distance.The sentinel marched slowly past the window, his figure silhouettedagainst the red glow of a camp-fire inside the gate. Then, without awarning sound, the door was pushed ajar, and the girl slipped silentlythrough. The distant reflection of the fire barely served to reveal herface, and outline her figure. She was breathing heavily and tremblingwith excitement, her voice barely audible.

  "You--you heard what was said in there?" she asked, eager to gain time."You know Captain Le Gaire has returned?"

  "Yes," thinking to calm her by an appearance of coolness. "He seems tobe a most blood-thirsty individual."

  "He was angry at being deceived. No one can blame him, but I simply hadto tantalize him in order to get him away."

  "Was that it? Do you mean so you might come here to me?"

  "Why, of course. I had promised you. Do you think I would demean myselfby lying--to a Yank? Besides," her voice faltered, "you would have keptyour parole, and--and--"

  "Waited here to be hung, probably," I broke in, "as that ceremonyappears to be part of the programme. My only hope was that you mightpossibly object to this item of entertainment."

  "Don't laugh," soberly. "There is no fun in it for me."

  "Then you would show mercy even to a Yankee spy?"

  "I am not sure of that. I am a Rebel, but that has no serious weightnow. You are not a spy; if you have acted as one, it has been morethrough my fault than your own. Besides you are my prisoner, and if Ishould permit you to fall into the hands of those men, to be condemnedto death, the memory would haunt me forever. I am not that kind,Lieutenant Galesworth. I don't want your gratitude; I would rather fightyou than help you. I want you to understand this first of all."

  "I do, Miss Hardy; you simply perform a duty."

  "Yes; I--I keep my word."

  "But, after all, isn't it a little easier because--you like me?"

  She drew in her breath so quickly it was almost a sob, the swift,unexpected question disarming her in an instant. It was no longer thetiger cat, but the woman who gasped out a surprised response.

  "No; oh, no! that is what makes it harder."

  "Harder to aid me?"

  "To see you unjustly condemned, and--and to realize that perhaps I amdisloyal to my country."

  Something about these simple words of confession, wrung from her lips bymy insistence, held me silent. I failed to realize then the fullsignificance of this acknowledgment, and she gave me no opportunity.

  "This is ungenerous," she broke in quickly. "I do feel friendly towardyou; surely I need not be ashamed of this, even though our interests areunlike, our causes opposed. Everything has conspired to make us friends.But you must not presume, or take advantage of my position. Nowlisten--I am here for one purpose: to give you an opportunity of escape.After that we are strangers; do you accept my terms?"

  "You offer no others?"

  "None."

  "Then I accept--until Fate intervenes."

  "You believe in Fate?"

  "When aided by human persistence, yes; I intend to represent thatgoddess."

  She drew back a step, her hand on the door.

  "You almost make me regret my effort," reproachfully. "However I warnyou the goddess this time shall play you false. But we waste moments intalk. Here is your revolver, Lieutenant; now come with me."

  She thrust the butt into my hand, and crossed the room to the dooropening out into the back yard. An instant she peered forth into thenight; then turned her face back toward me.

  "Take my place here," she whispered. "See that line of shadow yonder--itis the grape arbor. I am going to steal along to the end of the housewhere I can watch the sentinel. The instant I signal make for thatarbor, and lie quiet until I come."

  I watched the dim outline of her form. She was actually doing all thisfor me--for me! She was running this great risk, smothering her ownconscience--for me! I could not doubt this as a truth; I had probeddeeply enough to be assured there was personal interest, friendliness,inspiring the sacrifice. She would never have lifted a hand to save aYankee spy; all her sympathy was with the Confederacy. Yet she wasrisking all--her reputation, her life--to save me! The knowledge seemedto send fire through my veins, my heart throbbed fiercely. Oh, she coulddissemble, could pretend all this was merely duty, could rage againstherself and me, but nevertheless I understood--she was doing it for me!I knew, and she should know--yes, this very night, out yonder in theshadows, when we were alone together I would make her realize what itall meant. Le Gaire? What cared I for Le Gaire! This was Love and Warcombined, and all is fair in either. Besides, it was the girl whocounted, who must say the final word--why should I hesitate for the sakeof Le Gaire? Let him fight for himself; surely the prize was worththe battle.

  Her hand waved; I could catch the glimmer of the white sleeve, andrecognized it as a signal. With a dozen steps I was at the entrance tothe arbor, crouching down low in the shadows. As noiseless as a ghostshe sped across the open space, and joined me. I could feel her formtremble as I touched her, and she caught my arm with both hands, herface turned backward.

  "They are relieving guard," she faltered, "and will come past here next,for there is a sentry on the opposite side. We must get farther downunder the vines."

  I drew her forward, for she clung to me strangely, as though all thecourage and strength had suddenly deserted her.

  "There are no guards down here?"

  "No."

  "Nor at the stables?"

  "I cannot tell; I was afraid to ask."

  The arbor ended some thirty feet from the stables, with a low,vine-covered fence between. There have been darker nights, yet I coulddistinguish merely the dim outlines. Still feeling her clasp on my arm Icame to a halt, startled into absolute silence by the approach of therelief guard. The sturdy tramp of feet, and the slight tinkle ofbayonets against canteens, told plainly the fellows had turned our way,although, crouched where we were, we could at first see nothing. I drewmy revolver, my other hand clasping hers, and waited breathlessly. Thelittle squad came trudging down the opposite side of the fence, only theupper part of their bodies dimly visible against the slightly lighterbackground of the sky. I made out the officer in command, and four men,then they wheeled into the shadow of the stables, and the sentinelstationed there challenged. There was a reply, the sound of a musketbrought sharply to the shoulder, a gruff, indistinguishable order, andthen again the tramp of feet, dying away in the distance. Everymovement, and word, told the story, revealed the situation. I turned myeyes back to the girl's face, questioningly, barely able to perceive itswhiteness.

  "They have a guard there," I whispered, my lips close to her ear. "Isthere no other way out?"

  "Yes, on foot, but I supposed you would need a horse."

  "And there are horses there?"

  "I do not know about any others; I understand the judge has lost allhis, but the one Captain Le Gaire left for you this morning wastaken there."

  "You know the situation,"--the cavalryman's eagerness for a mountovercoming all thought of danger,--"how best to get in."

  "Yes; I went out there with Tom when the judge told him to put up thehorse,--I wanted to see how my pony was getting along. The door is onthat side to the east, just around the corner. It is closed by a woodenbutton. The
pony is in the first stall, and the horse in the second; thesaddle and bridle were hung on a peg behind," she said this clearly,anxious to make me understand, but then, as the other thought came toher, her voice broke. "But, Lieutenant Galesworth, you--you cannot getthe horse with the guard there!"

  My clasp closed more tightly on her fingers, my resolve hardening.

  "He's only a man, perhaps sleepy and careless, while I am wide awake.One must be willing to assume risk in war. With the horse under me Ihave a chance, while on foot I should probably be caught beforedaylight. Don't worry; this is not my first attempt."

  "You--you mean to try?"

  "Certainly; I should be a poor specimen if I did not. But I am going tosay good-bye to you first, and then lie here quietly until you aresafely in the house."

  She drew in a quick breath, her face lifting.

  "The house! I am going to remain here."

  "But the risk you run, and you can be of no help."

  "Oh, don't argue!" impatiently. "There is no more risk of my discoveryhere than there. I want to know what happens; I would rather faceanything than suspense. Lieutenant Galesworth, I have always had my way,and I shall now."

  Down in my heart I rejoiced at her decision, but all I said was:

  "Very well, Miss Willifred, it makes me feel like a knight going forthto battle under the eyes of his lady." The slight flutter of a ribbon ather throat caught my eye, and I touched it with my finger. "May I wearthis in token of your good wishes?"

  "You--you are not going to kill any one?"

  "Not if it can possibly be avoided."

  She was silent a moment, so still I could hear her breathing; then herhands undid the ribbon knot, and she held it toward me.

  "I--I do wish you well," she said softly. "I--don't know why, but I do."