Kincaid's Battery
Page 44
XLIV
"THEY WERE ALL FOUR TOGETHER"
Both Constance and Victorine flashed to retort, but saw the smilingcritic as pale as Anna and recalled the moment's truer business, thelist still darting innumerably around them always out of reach. Thecarriage had to push into the very surge, and Victorine to stand up andcall down to this man and that, a fourth and fifth, before one could bemade to hear and asked to buy for the helpless ladies. Yet in thisgentlewomen's war every gentlewoman's wish was a military command, andwhen at length one man did hear, to hear was to vanish in the turmoil ontheir errand. Now he was back again, with the list, three copies! Oh,thank you, thank you and thank you!
Away trotted the handsome span while five pairs of beautiful eyessearched the three printed sheets, that bore--oh, marvellousfortune!--not one of the four names writ largest in those five hearts.Let joy be--ah, let joy be very meek while to so many there isunutterable loss. Yet let it meekly abound for the great loved cause sosplendidly advanced. Miranda pointed Anna to a bit of editorial:
"Monday was a more glorious day than Sunday. We can scarcely forbear tospeculate upon the great results that are to flow from this decisivevictory. An instant pursuit of the flying enemy should--"
Why did the carriage halt at a Gravier Street crossing obliquelyopposite the upper front corner of the St. Charles Hotel? Why did allthe hotel's gold-braided guests and loungers so quietly press outagainst its upper balustrades? Why, under its arches, and betweenbalcony posts along the curbstones clear down to Canal Street, was thepathetically idle crowd lining up so silently? From that point why, now,did the faint breeze begin to waft a low roar of drums of such graveunmartial sort? And why, gradually up the sidewalks' edges in the hotsun, did every one so solemnly uncover? Small Victorine stood up to see.
At first she made out only that most commonplace spectacle, home guards.They came marching in platoons, a mere company or two. In the red andblue of their dress was all the smartness yet of last year, but in theirtread was none of it and even the bristle of their steel had vanished.Behind majestic brasses and muffled drums grieving out the funeralmarch, they stepped with slow precision and with arms reversed. But nowin abrupt contrast there appeared, moving as slowly and precisely afterthem, widely apart on either side of the stony way, two singleattenuated files of but four bronzed and shabby gray-jackets each, withfour others in one thin, open rank from file to file in their rear, andin the midst a hearse and its palled burden. Rise, Anna, Constance,Miranda--all. Ah, Albert Sidney Johnston! Weep, daughters of alion-hearted cause. The eyes of its sons are wet. Yet in your gentlebosoms keep great joy for whoever of your very own and nearest the awfulcarnage has spared; but hither comes, here passes slowly, and yonderfades at length from view, to lie a day in state and so move on toburial, a larger hope of final triumph than ever again you may fix onone mortal man.
Hats on again, softly. Drift apart, aimless crowd. Cross the two streetsat once, diagonally, you, young man from the St. Charles Hotel withpurpose in your rapid step, pencil unconsciously in hand and trouble onyour brow. Regather your reins, old coachman--nay, one moment! Theheavy-hearted youth passed so close under the horses' front that onlyafter he had gained the banquette abreast the carriage did he notice itsoccupants and Anna's eager bow. It was the one-armed Kincaid's Batteryboy reporter. With a sudden pitying gloom he returned the greeting,faltered as if to speak, caught a breath and then hurried on and away.What did that mean; more news; news bad for these five in particular?Silently in each of them, without a glance from one to another, thequestion asked itself.
"The True Delta," remarked Anna to Miranda, "is right down here on thenext square," and of his own motion the driver turned that way.
"Bitwin Common Strit and Can-al," added Victorine, needless words beingjust then the most needed.
Midway in front of the hotel Anna softly laid a hand on Flora, whorespondingly murmured. For the reporter was back, moving their way alongthe sidewalk almost at a run. Now Constance was aware of him.
"When we cross Common Street," she observed to Miranda, "he'll want tostop us."
In fact, as soon as their intent to cross was plain, he sped out besidethem and stood, his empty sleeve pinned up, his full one raised andgrief evident in his courteous smile. Some fifty yards ahead, by theTrue Delta office, men were huddling around a fresh bulletin. Baring hisbrow to the sun, the young man came close to the wheels.
"Wouldn't you-all as soon--?" he began, but Constance interrupted:
"The news is as good as ever, isn't it?"
"Yes, but wouldn't you-all as soon drive round by Carondelet Street?" Agesture with his hat showed a piece of manifold writing in his fingers.
He looked to Miranda, but she faltered. Flora, in her own way, felt allthe moment's rack and stress, but some natures are built for floods andrise on them like a boat. So thought she of herself and had parted herlips to speak for all, when, to her vexed surprise, Anna lifted a handand in a clear, firm tone inquired, "Is there any bad news for us five?"The youth's tongue failed; he nodded.
"Brodnax's brigade?" she asked. "Our battery?"
"Yes, Monday, just at the last," he murmured.
"Not _taken?_"
"Not a gun!" replied the boy, with a flash. Anna reflected it, but hertone did not change:
"There are four men, you know, whom we five--"
"Yes."
"Which of them is the bad news about?"
"All four," murmured the youth. His eyes swam. His hat went under thestump of his lost arm and he proffered the bit of writing. Idlers werestaring. "Take that with you," he said. "They were all four together andthey're only--"
The carriage was turning, but the fair cluster bent keenly toward him."Only what?" they cried.
"Missing."