CHAPTER XV
With these important works wrecked and dismantled, with the destructionof great stores of ammunition and artillery which obviously placed thesystem of defence in an imperfect condition, with the difficulty ofrepair and supply which time and distance and insufficiency oftransportation rendered insurmountable, with the elation of victory thatso dashing an exploit, so thoroughly consummated, must communicate tothe Confederate troops, an attack by them in force was daily expected.The capture of Roanoke City was considered an event of the near future,anticipated with joy or gloom, according to the several interests of thevaried population, but in any case regarded as a foregone conclusion.Daily the Northern trains, heavily laden, bore away passengers who hadno wish to become citizens of the Southern Confederacy. Perishableeffects, stocks of goods of the order that a battle would endanger ordestroy, were shipped to calmer regions. Reinforcements came by everytrain, by every boat, till all the resources of the country werestrained to maintain them, and still the Southerners had not advanced tothe opportunity. It was one of those occasions of the Civil War whenthe hand that took was not strong enough to hold. The Confederate forcenear the town was inadequately supplied to enable it to do more thanseize the advantage, which must needs be relinquished. Its slimresources admitted of no permanent occupation of the town, and the emptyglory of the capture of Roanoke City would have been offset by thedisastrous necessity of the evacuation of the post. Gradually theFederal lines were extended until they lay almost as before the raid onthe works. The Confederate ranks had been depleted to furnishreinforcements to a more practicable point. They were falling back, andnow and again sudden sallies brought in prisoners from such a distanceas told the story.
The town was once more secure, work was begun on the dismantledfortifications, and daily the question of how so hazardous an enterprisecould have been devised and executed revived in interest. The commandinggeneral had not the loss of the town itself to account for, as at onetime was probable, but for the destruction of a great store ofammunition, as well as the loss of life, of guns, of the worksthemselves, representing many thousands of dollars and the labor ofregiments. All, however, seemed hardly commensurate with the disaster hewould sustain in point of reputation. That such a dashing, destructiveexploit could be planned and consummated under his own ceaselesslyvigilant eyes appeared little short of the miraculous, and for his ownjustification he looked needfully into its inception.
It was discovered that there was a natural subterranean passage from thegrove of Judge Roscoe's place to a cellar, a portion of which hadconstituted the powder magazine on the Devrett hill, and that this hadbeen exploded by means of a slow match through the grotto, previouslyprepared, enabling the raiders to effect their escape. It was furtherascertained that Julius Roscoe, who had led the enterprise, had been inhiding for some time at his father's home, and had been seen as heissued thence covered with blood, evidently fresh from some personalaltercation with a Federal officer, for weeks a guest in the house.Although bruised and bleeding, this officer could offer no account ofhis wounds save a fall, impossible to have produced them; he had raisedno alarm, and had given no report of the presence of an enemy, whoseintrusion had wrought such damage and disaster to the Union cause.
One detail led to another, each discovery unveiled cognate mysteries,the disclosure of trifles brought forward circumstances of importance.The claim of the sentinel posted at Judge Roscoe's portico that he hadfired the first shot which raised the alarm, evoked the fact that anearlier sentry had told Captain Baynell that he had heard marchingfeet--a moving column in the cadenced step, he described it now--near,very near, that murky night, and that Captain Baynell had waived it awaywith the suggestion of "a corporal of the guard with the relief"--atthat hour!--when the next relief would not be due till nearlymidnight,--and had gone back into the parlor, where Mrs. Gwynn had begunto sing, "Her bright smile haunts me still."
This account reminded several of his camp-fellows that, having been intown on leave, they had met that dark night on the turnpike a forcemarching in column, and naturally thinking this only the removal ofFederal troops from some point to another, here, so far within thelines, they had quietly stood aside and watched the shadowy progress.Nothing amiss had occurred to their minds. The men had all theirofficers duly in position, and they were marching silently and withgreat regularity. But by reference to the various written reports, itwas easily ascertained that there was no shifting of troops that day, noassignment of a company to any duty which would have taken them out atthat hour, no detail reporting for service. Still following in thefootsteps of this column, something more was learned from a young negro,who had been out to fish that night, which was the delight of theplantation darkey at this season of the year, and had cast his linesfrom under the bluff near Judge Roscoe's place; the night being foggy,he had not noticed, till they were very near, the approach of three orfour large open boats, filled with soldiers, to judge by the rifles, whowere rowing very fast and hard against the current and keeping close into the shore. When they landed and beached the boats they were veryquiet, fell into order, and marched off without a word, except thenecessary curt commands. It had never occurred to him to give the alarm.He had taken none. They had rowed so close in to shore, he thought, toavoid such a collision as had happened in the mists earlier in thenight, when a large barge was run down by a gunboat and sunk. Doubtlessif they had passed the picket boats, the misty invisibility of all thesurface of the water protected them, but for the most part the patrol ofthe river pickets was further down-stream. As they had come, so they hadgone, and the matter remained a nine days' wonder. The commandinggeneral almost choked when he thought of it.
"This is going to be a serious matter for Baynell," said Colonel Ashley,one day. He had called at Judge Roscoe's partly because he did not wishto break off with abrupt rudeness an acquaintance which he had persistedin forming, and partly because he was not willing in the circumstancesthat had arisen to seem to shun the house.
Judge Roscoe was not at home, but Mrs. Gwynn was in the parlor. Ashleyhad asked her to sing. There was something "delightfully dreary," as hedescribed it, in the searching, romantic, melancholy cadences of hersweet contralto voice. He had not intended to open his heart, butsomehow the mood induced by her singing, the quiet of the dim, secluded,cool drawing-rooms, with the old-fashioned, high, stucco ceiling, andthe shadowy green gloom of the trees without, prevailed with him, and hespoke upon impulse.
"What matter?" she asked. She had wheeled half around on thepiano-stool, and sat, her slim figure in its white dress, delicate anderect, one white arm, visible through the thin fabric, outstretched tothe keyboard, the hand toying with resolving chords.
He had been standing beside the piano as she sang, but now, with the airof inviting serious discussion, he seated himself in one of the stiffarm-chairs of the carved rosewood "parlor set" of that day, and repliedgravely:----
"His association with Julius Roscoe."
Her eyes widened with genuine amazement.
"It seems," proceeded Ashley, slowly, "that a dozen or two of thesoldiers, who claimed to have seen a Confederate officer on the balconyhere, recognized him as Julius Roscoe, when he reappeared in command ofthe forces that captured the redoubt. And the surgeon has alwaysinsisted that Baynell's hurt was a blow, not a fall. There is a gooddeal of smothered talk in various quarters."
He stroked his mustache contemplatively, looked vaguely about the room,and sighed in a certain disconsolateness.
"I don't understand," said Mrs. Gwynn, sharply, fixing intent eyes uponhim. "How can Captain Baynell be called in question?"
"Oh, the general theory--however well or ill grounded--is that youngRoscoe was here on a reconnoitring expedition of some sort, or perhapsmerely on a visit to his kindred, and that Baynell winked at hispresence on account of friendship with the family, instead of arrestinghim, as he should have done. It's an immense pity. Baynell is a fineofficer."
Mrs. Gwynn had turned pale with excitem
ent.
"But _none of us_ knew that Julius Roscoe was in the house!" sheexclaimed. She hesitated a moment as the words passed her lips. JudgeRoscoe's reticence on the subject might imply some knowledge of theharbored Rebel.
Ashley was suddenly tense with energy.
"Don't imagine for one moment, my dear madam, that I have any desire toextract information from you. It is no concern of mine how he came orwent. I only mention the subject because it is very much on my mind andheart. And I don't see any satisfactory end to it. I have a greatrespect for Baynell as a man, and especially as an artillerist, andsomehow in these campaigns I have contrived to get fond of thefellow!--though he is about as stiff, and unresponsive, and prejudiced,and priggish a bundle of animal fibre as ever called himself human."
"Why, he doesn't give me that idea," exclaimed Leonora, her eyeswidening. "He seems unguarded, and impulsive, and ardent."
Colonel Ashley was very considerably her senior and far too experiencedto be ingenuous himself. He made no comment on the conviction her wordscreated within him. He only looked at her in silence, receiving herremark with courteous attention. Then he resumed:----
"Of course in a civil war there are always some instances of undueleniency,--the pressure of circumstances induces it,--but rarely indeedsuch as this; it amounts to aiding and abetting the enemy, howeverunpremeditated. Young Roscoe could not have secured the means orinformation for his destructive raid had not Baynell permitted him to behoused here. Doubtless, however, Baynell thought it a mere visit of theboy to his father's family."
"But Captain Baynell never dreamed that Julius Roscoe was in the house!"she exclaimed.
"That's just what he says he _did_--dreamed that he saw him! I can relyon you not to repeat my words. But I have had no confidential talk withhim."
"I am sure--I _know_--they were never together for a moment."
"The surgeon says that Roscoe's knuckles cut to the bone," commentedAshley, with a significant smile. But the triumphs of stultifying Mrs.Gwynn in conversation were all inadequate to restore his usual serenesatisfaction, and once more he looked restlessly about the rooms andsighed.
"What do you think Captain Baynell was guilty of? Permitting an enemy toremain within the lines, _perdu_, unsuspected, to gather information,and make off with it--conniving at the concealment, and assisting theescape of an enemy? And _you_ call yourself his friend!"
Leonora's cheeks were flushed. Her voice rang with a tense vibration.She fixed her interlocutor with a challenging eye.
"Oh--I don't _know_ what he intended," replied Ashley, almost irritably."Doubtless he had some high-minded motive, so intricate that he cannever explain it, and nobody else can ever unravel it. I only know hehas played the fool,--and I _fear_ he has ruined himself irretrievably."
"But you don't answer my question--what do _you think_ he has done?"
Ashley might have responded that his conclusions were not subject to herinquisition. But his suave methods of thought and conduct could notcompass this unmannerly retort. Moreover, it was a relief to hisfeelings to canvass the matter so paramount in his mind with anirresponsible woman, rather than with his brother officers, among whomit was rife, thereby sending his speculations and doubts and viewsabroad as threads to be wrought into the warp and woof of theiropinion, and possibly give undue substance and color to the character ofthe fabric.
"Why,--of course this is just my own view,--formed on what I hear fromoutsiders,--and I think it is the general view. Baynell knew the youngman was hidden in the house, on a stolen visit to his father, thinkinghe had no ultimate intentions but to escape at a convenient opportunity.These separations must be very cruel indeed, with no means ofcommunication. Baynell, though very wrongfully, _might_ have indulgedthis concealment from motives of--ah--er--friendship to the family, foryoung Roscoe would undoubtedly have been dealt with as a spy, had hebeen captured in lurking here. The two _may_ have been more or lessassociated,--certainly they came together in an altercation thatresulted in blows. _I_ think Baynell possibly discovered Roscoe'sscheme, and threatened him with arrest. Roscoe knocked him down thestairs and fled from the house to the grotto, considering this safe, forhe might have crossed from the balcony to the firs without observationif he had been lucky, as at that time none of us knew that the grottoexisted. Now these are _my_ conclusions--but for the integrity of theservice Baynell's acts and his motives must be sifted. They may not bearto an impartial mind even so liberal a construction as this. It is athreatening situation, and I am apprehensive--I am very apprehensive."
Mrs. Gwynn's hand fell with a discordant crash on the keys of the piano.
"Why--why--what can they do to him?" she gasped.
Vertnor Ashley shied from the subject like a frightened horse.
"Ah--oh--ah--er--well," he said, "let us not think of that." He pausedabruptly. Then, "To forecast the immediate future is enough of disaster.There is already said to be an official investigation on the cards. Nodoubt charges will be preferred, and he will be brought to acourt-martial."
He sighed again, and looked about futilely, as if for suggestion. Herose at length, and with his pleasant, cordial manner and a smile ofdeprecating apology, he said, "I am afraid my grim subjects do notcommend me for a lady's parlor." Then with a light change of tone, "Somuch obliged for that lovely little French song--what is it--_Quel estcet attrait qui m'attire_? I want to be able to distinguish it, for mayI not ask for it again some time?" And bowing, and smiling, andprosperous, he took his graceful departure.
Mrs. Gwynn stood motionless, her eyes on the carpet, her mind almostdazed by the magnitude, by the terrors, of the subjects of hercontemplation. She felt she must be more certain; she could not leavethis disastrous complication thus. She could not speak to this man,friendly though he had seemed, lest she betray some fact of her ownknowledge that might be of disadvantage to another who had meant noill--nay, she was sure had done no ill. Then she was beset by therealization of the sophistry of circumstance. But if circumstance couldbe adduced against Baynell, should it not equally prevail in his favor?When she, knowing naught of the lurking Julius, had sent to hishiding-place this Federal officer, did not instantly the clamors ofdiscovery resound through the house? She could hear even now in thetones of his voice, steadied and sonorous by the habit of command, sharpand decisive on the air, the words, "You are my prisoner!" twicerepeated, that had summoned her, stricken with sudden panic, from herflowers on the library table to the hall, where she saw the balustradeof the stairs still shaking with the concussion of a heavy fall. And asshe stood there, another moment--barely a moment--brought the apparitionof Julius, flying as if for his life, a pistol in his hand, and coveredwith blood. Dreams! Who said aught of dreams! This was not the course aman would take who desired to shield a concealed Rebel. There was noeye-witness of the altercation. But she, on the lower floor, had heardit all--the swift ascent for the book, the exclamation of amazement,then the stern voice of command, the words of arrest, the impact of theblow, and the clamors of the fall. Then the flight; she had seen Julius,fleeing for safety, fleeing from the house into the very teeth of thecamps.
Should not Baynell know this, the event that preceded the longinsensibility which had so blunted his impressions, his recollections?She resolved to confer with Judge Roscoe. How much he knew of JuliusRoscoe's lurking visit, how much he cared for her to know, she could notbe sure. She suspected that old Ephraim was fully informed, for withouthis services the visitor could hardly have been maintained. But neitherhad been at hand at the moment of discovery, of collision.
When Judge Roscoe came in she submitted this question to his judgment.To her surprise he did not canvass the matter. He said at once: "By allmeans Captain Baynell ought to know this. It would be best to send forhim and explain to him what you saw and heard,--the whole occurrence.Captain Baynell should be made aware of all the details of the actualevent that you more nearly than any one else witnessed."
The house in these summer days, with the shutters half closed a
nd thedoors all open, seemed more retired, more solitary, than when all thebusy life of the place was drawn to the focus of the library fire. Shewas quite alone, as she traversed the hall and sat down to write at thelibrary table. The "ladies" were playing out of doors, close in to thewindow under a tree. Judge Roscoe had business in the town and walkedthither leaning rather heavily on his cane, for no news came of Acrobat,and somehow he no longer cared to ride the glossy iron-gray that CaptainBaynell still left grazing in his pastures. So still were all theprecincts she feared she might not find a messenger as she went out onthe latticed gallery searching for old Ephraim. But there he sat in thesun in front of the kitchen door. He was not wont to be so silent. Hesaid naught when she handed him the missive with her instructions, buthe looked unwilling, with a sort of warning wisdom in his expression,and several times turned the note gingerly in his hand, as if he thoughtit might explode. He would fain have remonstrated against the renewal ofcommunication with the elements that had brought so much disquiet intothe calm life of the old house hitherto. But his lips were sealed so faras the "Yankee man" and Julius were concerned. And he would maintainthat he had never seen or heard of the grotto till indeed it was blownup.
"All dese young folks is a stiff-necked and tarrifyin' generation, an'ef dey will leave ole Ephraim in peace, he p'intedly won't pester dem,"he said to himself.
Therefore, merely murmuring acquiescence, "Yes'm, yes'm, yes'm," whilehe received his orders, he put on his hat which he had hitherto held inhis hand, and walked off briskly to the tent of the artillery captain.
The succinct dignified tone of Mrs. Gwynn's note requesting to seeCaptain Baynell at his earliest convenience on a matter of businessprecluded effectually any false sentimental hopes, had any communicationfrom her been calculated to raise them. He was already mounted, havingjust returned from afternoon parade; and saying to Uncle Ephraim that hewould wait on Mrs. Gwynn immediately, he wheeled his horse and forthwithdisappeared in the midst of the shadow and sheen of the full-leavedgrove.
Baynell had changed, changed immeasurably, since she had last seen him.Always quiet and sedate, his gravity had intensified to sternness, hisdignified composure to a cold, impenetrable reserve, his attentiveinterest to a sort of wary vigilance, all giving token of the effectwrought in his mental and moral endowment by the knowledge of thesuspicions entertained concerning his actions, and the charges that werebeing formulated against him.
In one sense these had already slain him. His individuality was gone. Hewould be no more what once he was. His pride, so strong, so vivid, asessential an element of his being as his breath, as his soul, had beendone to death. It had been a noble endowment, despite its exactions, andmaintained high standards and sought finer issues. It had died with thewoe of a thousand deaths, that calumny should touch his name; thataccusation could ever find a foothold in his life; that treachery shouldcome to investigation in his deeds.
She rather wondered at his calmness, the self-possession expressed inhis manner, his face. He had himself well in hand. He was not nervous.His haggard pallor told what the sleepless hours of self-communingbrought to him, yet he was strong enough to confront the future. Hewould give battle to the false charge, the lying circumstance, theimplacable phalanxes of the probabilities. The truth was intrinsicallyworth fighting for, in any event, and even now his heart could swellwith the conviction that the truth could only demonstrate the impeccancyof his official record.
He met her with that grave, conventional, inexpressive courtesy whichhad always characterized him, and it was a little difficult, in herunusual flutter and agitation, to find a suitable beginning.
She had seated herself in the library at the table where she had writtenthe note, and she was mechanically trifling with an ivory paper-knife,the portfolio and paper still lying before her. He took a chair near athand and waited, not seeking to inaugurate the conversation.
"I sent for you, Captain Baynell, because I have heard something--thereare rumors--"
He did not take the word from her, nor help her out. He sat quietlywaiting.
"In short, I think you ought to know that I overheard all that passedbetween you and Julius Roscoe on the stairs that morning."
Captain Baynell's rejoinder surprised her.
"Then he was really in the house?" he said meditatively.
"Oh, yes,--though I did not know it till he dashed past me in the hall.Two minutes had not elapsed since you had left me here standing by thetable."
She detailed the circumstances, and when she had finished speaking hethanked her simply, and said that the facts would be of value to him.
"I thought you ought to know them, hearing Colonel Ashley describe thevarious rumors afloat--but, but these--they--they will soon die out?"She looked at him appealingly.
He did not answer immediately. Then--
"I shall be court-martialled," he said succinctly.
Her heart seemed almost to stand still in the presence of this greatthreat, yet she strove against its menace.
"Of course I know this is serious, and must trouble all your friends,"she said vaguely. "But doubtless--doubtless there will be an acquittal."
"It is a matter of liberty, and life itself," he said. "But I do notcare for either,--I deprecate the reflections on my character as asoldier." He hesitated for one moment, then broke out with suddenpassion, "I care for the jeopardy of my honor--my sacred honor!"
There was an interval of stillness so long that a slant of the sunsetlight might seem to have moved on the floor. The soft babble of thevoices of the children came in at the open window; the mocking-bird'sjubilance rose from among the magnolia blooms outside. The great bowl onthe table was full of roses, and she eyed their magnificence absently,seeing nothing, remembering all that Ashley had said, and realizing howdifficult it would be to convince even him, with all his friendlygood-will, of the simplicity of the motives that had precipitated thereal events, so grimly metamorphosed in the monstrous mischances of war.
"Oh--" she cried suddenly, with a poignant accent, "that this shouldhave fallen upon you in the house of your friends! We can never forgiveourselves, and you can never forgive us!"
"There is nothing to forgive," he said heartily; "I have no grievanceagainst this kind roof. I could not expect Judge Roscoe to betray hisown son, and deliver him up to capture, to death as a spy--because Ihappened to be here, a temporary guest. And I could not expect the youngman to voluntarily surrender--for my convenience. No--I blame no one."
"You are magnanimous!" exclaimed Mrs. Gwynn, her luminous gray eyesshining through tears as she looked at him.
"Only omniscience could have foreseen and guarded against thisdisastrous complication of adverse circumstances. But the results areserious enough to justify doubt and provoke investigation. Knowing thesimple truth, it seems a little difficult to see how it can fail to beeasily established--it is the imputation that afflicts me. I am not usedto contemplate myself as a traitor--with my motives."
"Oh, it is so unjust--so rancorously untrue! You arrested him the momentyou saw him--although he was in Judge Roscoe's house. You must haveknown that he was Judge Roscoe's son."
"I recognized him from his portrait--" Baynell checked himself. He wouldnot have liked to say how often, with what jealous appraisement of itsmanly beauty and interest of suggestion, he had studied the portrait ofJulius on the parlor wall, knowing him as a man who had loved LeonoraGwynn, and fearing him as a man whom possibly Leonora Gwynn loved.
"But I was obliged to arrest him on the spot--why, I was in honorbound."
His face suddenly fell--in this most intimate essential of truegentlemanhood, in this dearest requisition of a soldier's faith, that isyet the commonest principle of the humblest campaigner, he was held tohave failed, in point of honor. He was held to have paltered and playeda double part, to have betrayed alike his country, the fair name of hiscorps, and his own unsullied record. And this was the fiat offair-minded men, comrades, countrymen, to be expressed in the preferredcharges.
Bankrupt in all he held dear, he shrank from seeming to beg the sheerempty bounty of her sympathy. He hardly cared to face these reflectionsin her presence. He arose to go, and it was with composed, conventionalcourtesy, as inexpressive as if he were some casual friendly caller,that he took his leave, resolutely ignoring all the tragedy of thesituation.
The next day came the news that charges having been duly preferred hehad been placed in arrest to await the action of the generalcourt-martial to be assembled in the town.