CHAPTER VIII.
_Gone!—The Signal Song._
WE must now take the reader back to Springfield. It was one week afterthe exposure and confinement of Walker, and something like a monthbefore the army had commenced its retrograde movement, as described inthe foregoing chapter.
Walker, after the first paroxysm of his rage was over, settled himselfdown to think. Although he had shown a bold front at first, his finalconviction drove from his heart all resolution, and he evinced the mostabject cowardice—the cowardice of conscious guilt, which makes thestrongest tremble.
But Walker was not a man to sit quietly in his cell, and submit to hisfate. His mind having been settled in the conviction that certain deathwould follow, he began to form his plans of action. To arrive at anydefinite conclusion was no easy matter, as he was chained, and a doubleguard placed around his quarters. Yet he had hope—time was given and allmight yet be right. He learned that he was not to be tried by a divisioncourt-martial, but would be removed to St. Louis, in order that ageneral court might act upon his case. He also learned that it would beat least a month, before the army would take up its march. Thus he hadtime—time precious to him—for, like all shrewd villains, he had hisconfederates, even in the army as well as out of it, and to these he nowlooked for his bodily safety.
It was the third night of his incarceration, that, springing to hisfeet, he listened intently. There were three distinct taps on the door.
“The rescuers—the gang—I’m saved!” he muttered, as he gave three taps onthe door, in response.
“What’s the word?” was asked from the outside.
“C. S. A. and the Bars!” answered Walker. “And you?”
“Good! Union against oppression!”
“To-night?” asked Walker, with eagerness.
“No, the pal on the other side ain’t for Union. Can’t before day afterto-morrow. Jim goes on then, and though it ain’t my turn, I think I canget pony No. 2 drunk, and the job can be done. I’ll try.”
“Be cautious. Trust no one without the word. It was the neglect on mypart, thinking it all right, to demand the ‘words,’ which brought meinto this scrape!”
The “rounds” approached, and the sentinel was relieved.
Nothing of importance transpired in camp for the next three days. Anunusual quiet prevailed. It is true, there was much talk upon thesubject of the attempted murder, and many expressions of bitternessagainst Walker. Some even went so far as to suggest the hanging of thatwretch before the army left Springfield, lest he should escape. Nonewere more vehement than a repulsive looking soldier, known throughoutcamp as “ugly Jim!” He stated that he had been on guard only a fewnights before in front of the prisoner’s quarters, and that he had everyreason to believe Walker was trying to escape, adding that he wished hehad been satisfied of the fact, as he would have been glad of anopportunity to put a bullet through the murderous scoundrel.
The party had been drinking freely, and had become exceedinglycommunicative. One of the soldiers, whose post was No. 1 on guard dutythat night—that is, in front of the prisoner’s door—swore he would shootWalker if he could find any pretext.
“_You_ have no spite against him,” exclaimed ugly Jim, “and _I_ have.Let _me_ take the matter in hand. I will stand your guard, and if thevillain attempts to move, I’ll riddle him, sure as Potosi lead mines.”
“Enough said. I am on the second relief. I go on at seven and off atnine; again at twelve and off at two. This will be your time.”
“Good! I shall be on hand!”
Ugly Jim then approached the tent of Miss Hayward, and requested anaudience alone with that lady. It so happened that she was alone,Alibamo having gone to visit her husband, and Sally being at the timestrolling through the camp with Nettleton.
“If you wish to learn all the particulars about your brother, I thinkyou can do so,” said Jim, in a tone of great kindness.
“Oh! in what manner?” asked Miss Hayward, eagerly.
“I don’t exactly know. But I will tell you what I _do_ know. You see Iam on guard to-night from twelve till two, over the cell of Walker. Idon’t like the villain any way, but, he told me if I would get you tocome to him, he would tell you all he knows of the matter!”
“Certainly I will go. Call Alibamo, and we will go together, at once!”
“I will,” answered Jim, as he turned to depart. Then pausing, he added:
“Miss Hayward, now I recollect that Walker said you must come alone. Hedeclared he would not commit himself by speaking before any one.”
“I dare not go alone!”
“Poor child!” exclaimed Jim, as he wiped his eyes. “Do you think you_can_ be alone when this old soldier, as folks call ‘ugly Jim,’ is nearyou? I know my face is ugly, but I don’t think my heart is! Besides, youwon’t _see_ the wretch himself. You will only talk to him through acrack between the logs, and I shall be as close to you as Walker willallow. Of course he wont let _me_ hear what he says, but I shan’t letyou be out of my sight, so there will be no danger!”
“Why can we not go at once?” asked Miss Hayward.
“Because I don’t go on post until twelve o’clock, and the other guardwouldn’t let you speak to him.”
“Then I will come at quarter past twelve. But I shall rely upon you forprotection!”
“You may do that, miss. And I really think you do right. I know Walkeris a _very_ bad man, but he has got to die, and may be he wants to makea confession to relieve his mind, and to ask your pardon. And I alwaysthink it best to give a dying man a chance to relieve his mind, andconfess.”
“You may expect me!”
Jim bowed, and left the tent.
Twelve o’clock came; the guard was relieved, and “ugly Jim” had takenthe place of his _sick friend_, in front of Walker’s prison. All wasquiet, save the clanking of a chain, a few hurried whispers, and theopening and closing of a heavy door, which sounds were in closeproximity to Walker’s dungeon. The words “_C. S. A. and Bars_” wereanswered by “_Union against Oppression_,” and two dark forms glided toconcealment beside the thorn hedge, while the guard remained at thedoor.
* * * * *
The evening dragged slowly along for Miss Hayward. A hundred times shehad almost resolved to communicate to her friends the fact of herintended visit to Walker, and to ask their advice, and, if need be, torequest that some one should follow in the distance, to lend assistance,should any be required. But what had she to fear? Walker was secure inhis cell, and one of the faithful guard had promised his protection.Besides, she had promised to go alone. If she did not, it would implysuspicion of an honest soldier. Walker might also ask if she had comeentirely unattended, and how could she answer him?
Miss Hayward was naturally timid, and by no means self-reliant. When thenews of the supposed death of her brother reached her, she was almostparalyzed with grief. But, now that hope had filled her heart, she beganto nerve herself to the task of unremitting search, even though she mustencounter the greatest dangers.
The hour of twelve arrived. Closely muffled in a cloak, she crept fromher tent, and then paused to listen. She heard nothing, save the slowand regular breathing of the sleepers, and the violent beating of herown heart. She started, but her steps seemed to fail her, and she leanedagainst a tree for support. The thought of her dear brother, and theprobable unraveling of the mystery which surrounded his attemptedassassination, and his present fate, gave her renewed courage, and shesped onward. In a few moments she had cleared the camp, and arrived inthe center of the garden, where stood the doomed man’s prison. As sheneared the door, the guard asked:
“Is that you, Miss Hayward?”
“It is!” came the low response.
“Approach and fear nothing.”
She had barely reached the threshold, when two forms, darting frombeneath the hedge, threw a heavy blanket over her head, thus entirelysmothering any attempt, on
her part, to give the alarm. Who and what hercaptors were, she could not divine, or what might be their purpose.Strange to say, her reason did not forsake her. She felt herself bornerapidly along, but not a word was spoken. It appeared to her that hourspassed by, and she even longed to hear some word uttered which mightgive a clue to the intentions of those in whose power she was, or tothrow some light upon the subject, as to whom her captors were. Theblanket, which was very heavy, almost causing suffocation, had beenremoved, and a lighter one substituted.
At length the parties halted, and, seating themselves upon the ground,the covering was removed, and Miss Hayward was permitted to gaze aroundher. Her eyes first met those of Captain Walker. She shuddered, andturned away. Then glancing at his two companions, she at once recognized“ugly Jim,” and a person known in camp as “stupid Dick,” both of whomhad served as Union soldiers, for a long time, under Walker. As her eyesmet those of “ugly Jim,” she exclaimed:
“Oh! _you_ will protect me?”
A laugh was the only reply.
“I trust Miss Hayward will permit _me_ to become her protector!” saidWalker, in an assumed tone of kindness.
Miss Hayward did not reply, but gazed around her. She was in a wildspot. She was seated beside a lovely stream of water, in a deep valley,while high on either hand were ragged hills or mountains. She knew thecountry for at least ten or twelve miles from Springfield in alldirections was quite level, and she judged she must be near the Ozarkcountry, the first range of whose ridges she had frequently seen fromthat point.
“Does not the lovely Miss Hayward deign a reply to her most devotedlover?” asked Walker.
“What was your purpose in tearing me from my friends, and conveying mehere?” asked Miss Hayward.
“A pardonable one, I think. My life was forfeited in the Federal camp,and personal interest required me to depart. I could not think ofleaving without you, and so I resorted to a little stratagem. My lovefor you must plead my excuse.”
“But I have told you, Captain Walker, that I could not love you. Do yousuppose after what has transpired that I could entertain any otherfeeling toward you than detestation?”
“I am aware of that. But, when you know me better, I am sure you willconsent to reward my devotion. I am going to convey you to yourbrother!”
“Then I _will_ thank you, at least!” exclaimed Miss Hayward.
“Nothing else?”
She shuddered.
“I must be plain with you,” continued Walker. “I am _not_ what I haveseemed to be while with the Federals. I am a colonel in the Confederatearmy, but I accepted a commission in the so-called Union army, that Imight furnish information to my Generals. Or, if you like the termbetter, you may call me a spy. These two soldiers have been with me forthe same purpose. And we were not alone. There are now, in the army ofthe Mississippi, over three hundred privates, and over twenty officers,who _pretend_ loyalty to the Federal cause; and I think, when his sisterhas become the wife of Captain Walker, or Colonel Brown, he may beinduced to join us!”
“Will you take me to my brother?”
“On one condition, I will.”
“And this condition?”
“Miss Hayward, I love you with all the ardor of my soul. You have becomenecessary to my very existence—_are_ a part of my life. When you spurnedme, it drove me frantic, and I am so now. Beware—oh! beware how you turnthis heart, which is yet pure, so far as you are concerned, into a hellof furies! Pity me! Oh! dear Miss Hayward, pity me!”
“But my brother—what of him?”
“I will tell you of your brother when you have answered my questions.”
“Proceed, sir!”
“Do not speak so coldly. I will be frank with you. Your brother is aprisoner—not in the Confederate camp, but in a secure place, on the verystream beside which you are now sitting. The murmuring and singing ofthese very waters will, ere two hours, greet his ears with the samestrain. Warble those strains to which I have so often listened while incamp, and which stirred my soul, and they will be borne direct to yourbrother’s hearing, to relieve his brain perhaps from the insanity whichnow enchains him!”
“Insanity!” echoed Mamie. “My brother insane?”
“He is a raving maniac! And but one thing can restore him!”
“Oh wretched, horrible news! What _can_ I do to save my brother?”
“You are the only person who _can_ save him. Nor is the task a hard one.Only a few miles from here is a Confederate camp. A chaplain is inattendance. He will perform the ceremony which will make you irrevocablyand securely mine. Go with me. Become my wife, and to-morrow I will takeyou to your brother, and we will not only restore his shackled feet toliberty, but his shattered senses to reason. We alone can do it. Can youassume the responsibility of a refusal?”
Miss Hayward remained silent for a few moments, and then gazedalternately at the three villains. An unnatural fire lit up her eyes. Atlength she said:
“Captain Walker, I do not know but you are even now deceiving me. Youmay not know any thing about where my brother is.”
“Ask these soldiers,” replied Walker.
Miss Hayward turned her eyes upon them.
“The captain speaks right,” answered Jim. “He _does_ know where yourbrother is. He _is_ crazy and is chained in the—”
“Silence!” commanded Walker. “Do you believe, Miss Mamie?”
“I must believe the worst,” answered Miss Hayward. “Soldiers,” sheadded, turning to the soldiers, “do you believe in the truth of CaptainWalker’s profession of love for me?”
“I should like to know why not!” replied Jim, doggedly. “Nobody could_help_ loving you; even I loves you, but I know it ain’t no use, and soI don’t say nothing!”
“What have _you_ to say?” asked Mamie, turning to the other soldier.
“Lord, Miss Mamie, I allers loved you, but ‘stupid Dick’ never thinks ofsuch as you, and so I acted mean just to spite!”
“Gentlemen,” cried Miss Hayward, springing to her feet, “listen to me.You have wronged me deeply, by aiding this wretched villain, yourcaptain, to abduct me. I despise, loathe him; and, sooner than become_his_ wife, I would permit my brother to die as he is, for I know thathe would curse me were I to save him at such a sacrifice. It will be_but_ death, and I shall suffer very little, for my brother’s pure soulwill scarce have taken its flight, ere mine will follow!”
“Miss Hayward!”
“Silence, Captain Walker. Soldiers, you have human hearts, and this manhas not. I appeal to you. Save me! Find my brother and return himsafely, and I promise to pay you one thousand dollars each. If I fail todo this, I swear, by the hope of heaven, that I will become the wife ofone of you, the choice to be decided by lots between you!”
These words acted like an electric shock upon the soldiers. They sprungto their feet and confronted Walker. But he had anticipated the effectsof her words, and stood sword and revolver in hand.
“You would play me false!” demanded Walker, fiercely.
“Guess I would!” replied Jim.
“Take that, then!” yelled Walker.
The report of a pistol echoed through the valley, and Jim fell withoutso much as a groan.
“And how do _you_ decide?” asked Walker, turning and pointing hisrevolver toward Dick.
“I was only goin’ to help you. I ain’t no such foolish cuss as to thinkof marrying a fine lady like that! I’m all right!”
“Prove yourself so, and you shall _have_ your thousand. Deceive me, andyou share his fate!”
As Walker spoke he stepped to a clump of thick bushes, and drew a smallboat from concealment. Handing Miss Hayward to a seat, and preceded byDick, Walker entered, and the little craft swept gently along with thecurrent, down the stream.
They had proceeded but a short distance, when Miss Hayward burst forth,and sung a wild, thrilling air, which echoed far and wide, through thevalley and across the hills. There was something strangely beautiful inher song, and something still more s
trange in her actions. As eachstrain echoed over the hills, and gave back the ringing notes, she wouldstart, and listen attentively, and a gleam of joy would lighten up herpale face, upon which a shade of disappointment would almost as soonappear. Her hearers sat in silence, and in apparent wonder.
“Those words are significant!” exclaimed Walker. “What is their import?”
“_She’s_ going mad, too, I opine!” exclaimed Dick. “Better _let_ hergo!”
“Silence!” cried Walker. “Miss Hayward, do you think your voice willpenetrate _his_ retreat?”
She made no answer, but, as the little boat swept onward, ever and anonthe same words, and the same wild music broke the stillness of theforest, now sounding like a wail of sorrow, and then becoming almosthushed in hopeful expectation. The words had the appearance of beingextemporized for the occasion, and were as follows:
Break those fetters—I am calling— Listen _only_ to my song! I am waiting—loved one—waiting! I have waited—oh, so long! Give but one fond word to cheer me, As I pray, and hope, and weep! Let _thy echo_ say thou’rt near me, As my vigils thus I keep! Echo, as along I glide, This my song, from thy retreat, And I’ll bound to thy dear side! Are we e’er again to meet? Yes, a Seraph from on high Whispers to me, thou art nigh! Friends are waiting—friends are near— Dearest brother—do not fear!