The Bondwoman

by Marah Ellis Ryan

  CHAPTER XXIV.

  Noon. Colonel McVeigh had been at the Terrace already a half day, andno sign had come from Pierson--no message of any sort. Judithe calledPluto and asked if the mail did not leave soon for down the river, andsuggested that when he took it to the office he would ask the man incharge to look carefully lest any letters should have been forgottenfrom the night before.

  "Yes'm, mail go 'bout two hours now," and he looked up at the clock."I go right down ask 'bout any letters done been fo'got. But I don'reckon any mail to go today; folks all too busy to write lettahs."

  "No; I--I--I will have a letter to go," and she turned toward thedesk. "How soon will you start?"

  "Hour from now," said Pluto, "that will catch mail all right;" andwith that she must be content. At any other time she would have senthim at once without the excuse of a letter to be mailed. Thoseeasy-going folk who handled the mail might easily have overlooked somemessage--a delay of twenty-four hours would mean nothing in theirsleepy lives. But today she was unmistakably nervous--all the morereason for exceeding care.

  She had begun the letter when Colonel McVeigh came for her to go tolunch; she endeavored to make an excuse--she was not at all hungry,really, it appeared but an hour since the breakfast; but perceivingthat if she remained he would remain also, she arose, saying she wouldjoin their little festival on the lawn long enough for a cup of tea,she had a letter to get ready for the mail within an hour.

  She managed to seat herself where she could view the road to thesouth, but not a horseman or footman turned in at the Terrace gate.She felt the eyes of Monroe on her; also the eyes of Gertrude Loring.How much did they know or suspect? She was feverishly gay, thoughpenetrated by the feeling that the suspended sword hung above her.Pierson's non-appearance might mean many things appalling--andLouise!

  All these chaotic thoughts surging through her, and ever beside herthe voice of Kenneth McVeigh, not the voice alone, but the eyes, attimes appealing, at times dominant, as he met her gaze, and forbadethat she be indifferent.

  "Why should you starve yourself as well as me?" he asked, softly, whenshe declined the dishes brought to her, and made pretense of drinkingthe cup of tea he offered.

  "You--starving?" and the slight arching of the dark brows added to thenote of question.

  "Yes, for a word of hope."

  "Really? and what word do you covet?"

  "The one telling me if the Countess Biron's gossip was the only reasonyou sent me away."

  Mrs. McVeigh looked over at the two, well satisfied that Kenneth wasgiving attention to her most distinguished guest. Gertrude Loringlooked across to the couple on the rustic seat and felt, withouthearing, what the tenor of the conversation was. Kenneth McVeigh waswooing a woman who looked at him with slumbrous magnetic eyes andlaughed at him. Gertrude envied her the wooing, but hated her for thelaughter. All her life Kenneth McVeigh had been her ideal, but to thisfinished coquette of France he was only the man of the moment, whocontributed to her love of power, her amusement. For the girl, who washis friend, read clearly the critical, half contemptuous gleams,alternating at times the graciousness of Madame Caron's dark eyes. Sheglanced at Monroe, and guessed that he was no more pleased thanherself at the tete-a-tete there, and that he was quite as watchful.

  And the cause of it all met Colonel McVeigh's question with a glance,half alluring, half forbidding, as she sipped the tea and put asidethe cup.

  "How persistent you are," she murmured. "If you adopt the same methodsin warfare I do not wonder at your rapid promotions. But I shan'tencourage it a moment longer; you have other guests, and I have aletter to write."

  She crossed to Mrs. McVeigh, murmured a few words of excuse, exchangeda smile with Evilena, who declared her a deserter from their ranks,and then moved up the steps to the veranda and passed through the openwindow into the library, pausing for a little backward glance ere sheentered; and the people on the lawn who raised their glasses to her,did not guess that she looked over their heads, scanning the road forthe expected messenger.

  Looking at the clock she seated herself, picked up the pen, and thenhalted, holding her hand out and noting the trembling of it.

  "Oh, you fool! You _woman_!" she said, through her closed teeth.

  She commenced one letter, blotted it in her nervous impatience, turnedit aside and commenced another, when Captain Monroe appeared at thewindow with a glass of wine in his hand.

  "Why this desertion from the ranks?" he asked, jestingly, yet withpurpose back of the jest. She recognized, but ignored it.

  "That you might be detailed for special duty, perhaps, Captain Jack,"she replied, without looking around.

  "I have to look up stragglers," and he crossed to the desk where shesat. "I even brought you a forgotten portion of your lunch."

  She looked up at that, saw the glass, and shook her head; "No, no winefor me."

  "But it would be almost treasonable to refuse this," he insisted. "Inthe first place it is native Carolina wine we are asked to take; andin the second, it is a toast our bear of the swamps--Mr. Loring--hasproposed, 'our President.' I evaded my share by being cup-bearer toyou." He offered the glass and looked at her, meaningly, "Will youdrink?"

  "Only when you drink with me," she said, and smiled at the grim looktouching his face for an instant.

  "To the President of the Southern Confederacy?" he asked.

  "No!--to _our_ President!"

  She took the glass, touched the wine to her lips, and offered theremainder to him, just as Colonel McVeigh entered from the lawn. Heheard Captain Monroe say, "With all my heart!" as he emptied theglass. The scene had such a sentimental tinge that he felt a swiftflash of jealousy, and realized that Monroe was a decidedly attractivefellow in his own cool, masterful way.

  "Ah! a tryst at mid-day?" he remarked, with assumed lightness.

  "No; only a parley with the enemy," she said, and he passed out intothe hall, picking up his hat from the table, where he had tossed itwhen he entered in the morning.

  Monroe walked up to the window and back again. She heard him stopbeside her, but did not look up.

  "I have almost decided to take your advice, and remain only one nightinstead of two," he said, at last. "I can't approve what you are doinghere. I can't help you, and I can't stay by and be witness to theenchantment which, for some reason, you are weaving around McVeigh."

  "Enchantment?"

  "Well, I can't find a better word just now. I can't warn him; so Iwill leave in the morning."

  "I really think it would be better," she said, looking up at himfrankly. "Of all the American men I have met I value your friendshipmost; yes, it is quite true!" as he uttered a slight exclamation."But there are times when even our good angels hamper us, and just nowI am better, much better, alone."

  "If I could help you--"

  "You could not," she said hastily. "Even without the barrier of theparole, you could not. But I cannot talk. I am nervous, not myselftoday. You saw how clumsy I was when I brought the letter toshow?--and after all did not get to show it. Well, I have been likethat all day. I have grown fearful of everything--distrustful of everyglance. Did you observe the watchfulness of Miss Loring on the lawn?Still, what does it matter?"

  She leaned her head on her hands for a few moments. He stood andlooked at her somberly, not speaking. When she turned towards himagain it was to ask in a very different tone if he would touch thebell--it was time for Pluto to start with the mail. When he enteredshe found that a necessary address book had been left in her ownapartments.

  "You get the mail bag while I go for it, Pluto," she said aftertossing the papers about in a vain search; "and Captain Monroe, willyou look over this bit of figures for me? It is an expense list for myyacht, I may need it today and have a wretched head for businessdetails of that sort. I am helpless in them."

  Then she was gone, and Monroe, with a pencil, noted the amount,corrected a trifling mistake, and suddenly became conscious that thegrave, most attentive, black man, was regarding him in
a mannerinviting question.

  "Well, my man, what is it?" he asked, folding up the paper, andspeaking with so kindly a smile that Pluto stumbled eagerly into theheart of questions long deferred.

  "Jes' a word, Mahs Captain. Is it true you been took prisoner? Is ittrue the Linkum men are whipped?"

  "Well, if they are they don't know it; they are still fighting, anyway."

  "If--if they win," and Pluto looked around nervously as he asked thequestion, "will it free us, Mahs Captain? We niggahs can't fine outmuch down heah. Yo' see, sah, fust off they all tell how the Nawthfree us sure if the Nawth won the battles. Then--then word done comehow Mahsa Linkum nevah say so. Tell me true, Mahs Captain, will we befree?"

  His eagerness was so intense, Monroe hesitated to tell him the facts.He understood, now, why the dark face had been watching him sohungrily ever since his arrival.

  "The men who make the laws must decide those questions, my man,"he said, at last. 'In time freedom certainly will be arrangedfor--but--"

  "But Mahsa Linkum ain't done said it yet--that it, Mahsa?"

  "Yes, that's it."

  "Thank yo', sah," and Monroe heard him take a deep breath, sad astears, when he turned into the hall for the mail bag.

  A stranger was just coming up the steps, a squarely built,intelligent-eyed man, with a full dark beard; his horse, held by oneof the boys under a shade tree, showed signs of hard riding, and thefact that he was held instead of stabled, showed that the call was tobe brief.

  The servants were clearing away the lunch things. Mrs. McVeigh hadentered the house. Delaven and Gertrude were walking beside Loring'schair, wheeled by Ben, along the shady places. Evilena was comingtowards them from across the lawn, pouting because of an ineffectualattempt to catch up with Ken, whom she fancied she saw striding alongthe back drive to the quarters, but he had walked too fast, and thehedge had hidden him. She came back disappointed to be asked byDelaven what sort of uniform she was pursuing this time, to which hevery properly received no reply except such as was vouchsafed bysilent, scornful lips and indignant eyes.

  Masterson, who was walking thoughtfully alone, noted this distributionof the people as the stranger dismounted, inquired of Caroline forMadame Caron, and was received by Pluto at the door. The man wore adark blue suit, plain but for a thin cord of gold on collar andsleeve. He did not recognize it as a uniform, yet instinctivelyassociated it with that other blue uniform whose wearer had caused himan annoyance he would not soon forget. He was there alone now withMadame Caron for whom this stranger was asking. He wondered if ColonelMcVeigh was there also, but concluded not, as he had seen him on thewestern veranda with his hat on. All these thoughts touched him andpassed on as he stood there looking critically at the dusty horse.

  At the same moment he heard the thud, thud of another horse turning inat the Terrace gates; the rider was leaning forward as though urgingthe animal to its utmost. At sight of Masterson he threw up his handto attract attention, and the others on the lawn stared at this secondtumultuous arrival and the haste Captain Masterson made to hear whathe had to say--evidently news of importance from the coast or theNorth.

  Loring hoped it meant annihilation of some Yankee stronghold, andEvilena hoped it did not mean that Kenneth must leave before theparty.

  * * * * *

  The man whom Pluto showed into the library with the information thatMadame Caron would be down at once, glanced about him quickly, andwith annoyance, when he found there was another man in the room. Butthe instant Monroe's face was seen by him, he uttered an exclamationof pleasure.

  "By Jove! Captain Jack?" and he turned to him eagerly, after notingthat Pluto had left the door.

  "I don't think I know you, sir, though you evidently know one of mynames," and his tone was not particularly cordial as he eyed thestranger.

  "Don't you remember the night run you made on the yacht _Marquise_,last March?" and the man's tone was low and hurried. "I had no beardthen, which makes a difference. This trip is not quite so important,but has been more annoying. I've been followed, have doubled like ahare for hours, and don't believe I've thrown them off the track afterall. I have a message to deliver; if I can't see Madame alone at onceyou get it to her."

  "Can't do it; don't want to see it!" and Monroe's tone was quick anddecided as the man's own. "I am on parole."

  "Parole!" and the stranger looked at him skeptically. "Look here, youare evidently working with Madame, and afraid to trust me, but it'sall right. I swear it is! I destroyed the message when I saw I wasfollowed, but I know the contents, and if you will take it--"

  "You mistake. I have absolutely no knowledge of Madame's affairs atpresent."

  "Then you won't take it?" and the man's tones held smothered rage."So, when put to the test, Captain Jack Monroe is afraid to risk whatthousands are risking for the cause, at the front and in secret--alife!"

  "It is just as well not to say 'afraid,' my good fellow," andMonroe's words were a trifle colder, a shade more deliberate. "Do youknow what a parole means? I excuse your words because of your presentposition, which may be desperate. If you are her friend I will do whatI can to save you; but the contents of the dispatch I refuse tohear."

  Judithe entered the door as he spoke, and came forward smilingly.

  "Certainly; it was not intended that you should. This is the captainof my yacht, and his messages only interest me."

  "Madame Caron!" and Monroe's tones were imploring, "Consider where youare. Think of the risks you run!"

  "Risks?" and she made a little gesture of disdain. She felt so muchstronger now that the suspense was over--now that the message wasreally here. "Risks are fashionable just now, Monsieur, and I alwaysfollow the fashions."

  He shook his head hopelessly; words were of no use. He turned away,and remembering that he still held the slip with her account on, hehalted and handed it to the stranger, who was nearest him.

  "I presume these figures were meant for the master of your yacht," heremarked, without looking at her, and passed out on the veranda, wherehe halted at sight of Masterson running up the steps, and the dustyrider close behind.

  Judithe had seated herself at the desk and picked up the pen. But asMonroe stepped out on the veranda she turned impatiently:

  "The despatch?" and she held out her hand.

  "I was followed--I read and destroyed it."

  "Its contents?"

  "Too late, Madame," he remarked, in a less confidential tone, as helaid the slip Monroe had given him on the desk. He had seen Mastersonat the door and with him the other rider!

  Judithe did not raise her head. She was apparently absorbed in hertask of addressing an envelope.

  "I will speak with you directly," she said, carelessly sealing theletter. He bowed and stood waiting, respectfully. Glancing up, she sawCaptain Masterson, who had entered from the veranda, and bestowed onhim a careless, yet gracious smile. Pluto brought the mail bag in fromthe hall, and she dropped the letter in, also a couple of papers shetook from the top of the desk.

  "There, that is all. Make haste, please, Pluto," and she glanced atthe clock. "I should not like that letter to miss the mail; it isimportant."

  "Yes'm, I gwine right away now," and he turned to the door, whenMasterson stepped before him, and to his astonishment, took the bagfrom his hand.

  "You can't take this with you," he said, in a tone of authority. "Gotell Colonel McVeigh he is needed here on business most important."

  Pluto stared at him in stupid wonder, and Judithe arose from herchair.

  "Go, by all means, Pluto," she said, quietly, "Captain Masterson'serrand is, no doubt, more important than a lady's could be," and shemoved towards the door.

  "I apologize, Madame Caron, for countermanding your orders," saidMasterson, quickly, "but circumstances make it necessary that noperson and no paper leave this room until this man's identity isdetermined," and he pointed to the messenger. "Do you know him?"

  "Certainly I know him; he is in m
y employ, the sailing master of myyacht."

  Pluto came in again and announced, "Mahs Kenneth not in the house;he gone somewhere out to the quarters." Masterson received the newswith evident annoyance. There was a moment of indecision as he glancedfrom the stranger to Monroe, who had sauntered through the openwindow, and across to Judithe, who gave him one glance which heinterpreted to mean she wished he was somewhere else. But he onlysmiled and--remained.

  "There is only one thing left for me to do in Colonel McVeigh'sabsence," said Masterson, addressing the group in general, "and thatis to investigate this affair myself, as every minute's delay may meandanger. Madame Caron, we are forced to believe this man is a spy."Judithe smiled incredulously, and he watched her keenly as hecontinued: "More, he is associated with a clever French creole calledLouise Trouvelot, who says she is your maid and who is at presentunder surveillance in Savannah, and they both are suspected of beingonly agents for a very accomplished spy, who has been doing dangerouswork in the South for many months. I explain so you will comprehendthat investigation is necessary. This man," and he pointed to theother stranger, who now stepped inside, "has followed him from thecoast under special orders."

  "What a dangerous character you have become!" said Judithe, turning toher messenger with an amused smile. "I feared that beard would makeyou look like a pirate, but I never suspected _this_ of you--and yousay," she added, turning to Masterson, "that my poor maid is alsounder suspicion? It is ridiculous, abominable! I must see to it atonce. The girl will be frightened horribly among such evidences ofyour Southern chivalry," and she shrugged her shoulders with a littlegesture of disdain. "And what, pray, do you intend doing with mysailor here?"

  The man had been staring at Masterson as though astounded at theaccusations. But he did not speak, and the Confederate agent nevertook his eyes off him.

  "Ask him his name," he suggested, softly, to Masterson, who took paperand pencil from the desk and handed it to the suspect. "Write yourname there," he said, and when it was quickly, good naturedly done,the self-appointed judge read it and turned to Judithe.

  "Madame Caron, will you please tell me this man's name?" and themessenger himself stared when she replied, haughtily:

  "No, Captain Masterson, I will not!"

  "Ah, you absolutely refuse, Madame?"

  "I do; you have accused my employe of being a spy, but your attitudesuggests that it is not he, but myself, whom you suspect."

  "Madame, you cannot comprehend the seriousness of the situation," andMasterson had difficulty in keeping his patience. "Every one he speakswith, everything concerning him is of interest. These are war times,Madame Caron, and the case will not admit of either delays or specialcourtesies. I shall have to ask you for the paper he placed in yourhands as I entered the room."

  Judithe picked up the paper without a word and reached it to him, withthe languid air of one bored by the entire affair.

  He glanced at it and handed it back. As he did so he perceived anunfinished letter on the desk. In a moment his suspicions werearoused; that important letter in the mail bag!

  "You did not complete the letter you were writing?"

  "No," and she lifted it from the desk and held it towards him. "Youperceive! I was so careless as to blot the paper; do you wish toexamine that?"

  His face flushed at the mockery of her tone and glance. He felt itmore keenly, that the eyes of Monroe were on him. The task before himwas difficult enough without that additional annoyance.

  "No, Madame," he replied, stiffly, "but the situation is such that Ifeel justified in asking the contents of the envelope you sealed andgave to the servant."

  "But that is a private letter," she protested, as he took it from themail bag; "it can be of no use to any government or its agents."

  "That can best be determined by reading it, Madame. It certainlycannot go out in this mail unless it is examined."

  "By you?--oh!" And Judithe put out her hand in protest.

  "Captain Masterson!"

  "Sir!" and Masterson turned on Monroe, who had spoken for the firsttime. As he did so Judithe deliberately leaned forward and snatchedthe letter from his hand.

  "You shall not read it!" she said, decidedly, and just then Evilenaand her brother came along the veranda, and with them Delaven. Judithemoved swiftly to the window before any one else could speak.

  "Colonel McVeigh, I appeal to you," and involuntarily she reached out herhand, which he took in his as he entered the room. "This--gentleman--onsome political pretense, insists that I submit to such examinations asspies are subject to. I have been accused in the presence of thesepeople, and in their presence I demand an apology for this attempt toexamine my private, personal letters."

  "Captain Masterson!" and the blue steel of McVeigh's eyes flashed inanger and rebuke. But Masterson, strong in his assurance of right,held up his hand.

  "You don't understand the situation, Colonel. That man is suspected ofbeing the assistant to a most dangerous, unknown spy within our lines.He has been followed from Beaufort by a Confederate secret serviceagent, whom he tried to escape by doubling on the road, takingby-ways, riding fully twenty miles out of his course, to reach thispoint unobserved."

  For the first time the suspected man spoke, and it was to Judithe.

  "That is quite true, Madame. I mean that I rode out of my way. But thereason of it is that I came over the road for the first time; therewere no sign-boards up, and my directions had not been explicit enoughto prevent me losing my way. That is my only excuse for not being hereearlier. I am not landsman enough to make my way through the countryroads and timber."

  "You perceive, Colonel McVeigh, the man is in my employ, and has comehere by my orders," said Judithe, with a certain impatience at thedensity of the accuser.

  "That should be credential enough," and McVeigh's tone held a distinctreprimand as he frowned at Masterson's senseless accusation, but thatofficer made a gesture of protest. He was being beaten, but he did notmean to give up without a hard fight.

  "Colonel, there were special reasons for doubt in the matter. MadameCaron, apparently, does not know even the man's name. I asked him towrite it--here it is," and he handed McVeigh the paper. "I asked herto name him--she refused!"

  "Yes; I resented the manner and reason for the question," assentedJudithe; "but the man has been the master of my yacht for over a year,and his name is Pierson--John T. Pierson."

  "Correct," and McVeigh glanced at the paper on which the name waswritten. "Will you also write the name of Madame Caron's yacht, Mr.Pierson?" and he handed him a book and pencil. "Pardon me," and hesmiled reassuringly at Judithe, "this is not the request of suspicion,but faith." He took the book from Pierson and glanced at the open pageand then at her--"the name of your yacht is?--"

  "_The Marquise_," she replied, with a little note of surprise in hervoice, as she smiled at Evilena, who had slipped to her side, andunderstood the smile. Evilena and she had made plans for a season ofholidays on that same yacht, as soon as the repairs were made. ColonelMcVeigh tossed the book indignantly on the table.

  "Thank you, Madame! Captain Masterson, this is the most outrageousthing I ever knew an officer to be guilty of! You have presumed tosuspect a lady in my house--the guest of your superior officer, andyou shall answer to me for it! Mr. Pierson, you are no longer undersuspicion here, sir. And you," he added, turning to the Confederatesecret agent, "can report at once to your chief that spies are notneeded on the McVeigh plantation."

  "Colonel McVeigh, if you had seen what I saw--"

  "Madame Caron's word would have been sufficient," interrupted McVeigh,without looking at him. And Judithe held out the letter.

  "I am quite willing you should see what he saw," she said, with acurious smile. "He saw me, after the arrival of Mr. Pierson, seal anenvelope leaving him in ignorance of its contents. The seal is yetunbroken--will you read it?"

  "You do not suppose I require proof of your innocence?" he asked,refusing the letter, and looking at her fondly as he dare in the
presence of the others.

  "But I owe it to myself to offer the proof now," she insisted, "andat the same time I shall ask Mr. Pierson to offer himself for personalsearch if Captain Masterson yet retains suspicion of his honesty;" sheglanced towards Pierson, who smiled slightly, and bowed withoutspeaking. Then she turned to Delaven, who had been a surprisedonlooker of the scene.

  "Dr. Delaven, in the cause of justice, may I ask you to examine thecontents of this letter?" and she tore open the envelope and offeredit.

  "Anything in the wide world to serve you, Madame la Marquise," heanswered, with a shade more than usual of deference in his manner, ashe took it. "Are the contents to be considered professionally, thatis, confidentially?"

  She had taken Evilena by the hand, bowed slightly to the group, andhad moved to the door, when he spoke. Monroe, who had watched everymovement as he stood there in a fever of suspense for her sake, drew abreath of relief as she replied:

  "Oh, no! Be kind enough to read it aloud, or Captain Masterson mayinclude you in the dangerous intrigues here," and, smiling still, shepassed out with Evilena to the lawn.

  But a few seconds elapsed, when a perfect shout of laughter came fromthe library. The special detective did not share in it, for he thrusthis hands into his pockets with a curse, and Masterson turned to himwith a frowning, baffled stare--an absolutely crestfallen manner, ashe listened to the following, read in Delaven's best style:

  "To Madame Smith, "Mobile, Ala.:

  "The pink morning gown is perfect, but I am in despair over the night robes! I meant you to use the lace, not the embroidery, on them; pray change them at once, and send at the same time the flounced lawn petticoats if completed. I await reply.

  "Judithe de Caron."