CHAPTER XXVIII
THE WAY OUT
Prescott at three o'clock the following afternoon knocked on the door ofMr. Sefton's private office and the response "Come in!" was like hisknock, crisp and decisive. Prescott entered and shut the door behindhim. The Secretary had been sitting by the window, but he rose andreceived his guest courteously, extending his hand.
Prescott took the proffered hand. He had learned to look upon theSecretary as his enemy, but he found himself unable to hate him.
"We had an interview in this room once before," said the Secretary, "andit was not wholly unfriendly."
"That is true," replied Prescott, "and as the subject that I have topropose now is of a somewhat kindred nature I hope that we may keep thesame tone."
"It rests with you, my dear Captain," said the Secretary meaningly.
Prescott was somewhat embarrassed. He scarcely knew how to begin.
"I came to ask a favour," he said at last.
"The willingness to bestow favours does not always imply the power."
"It is true," said Prescott; "but in this case the will may go with thepower. I have come to speak to you of Lucia Catherwood."
"What of her?" asked the Secretary sharply. He was betrayed into amomentary interruption of his habitual calm, but settled himself intohis seat and looked keenly across the table at his rival, trying toguess the young man's plan of campaign. Calculating upon the basis ofwhat he himself would do in the same position, he could form noconclusion.
"I have come to speak on her account," continued Prescott, "and though Imay be somewhat involved, I wish it to be distinctly understood that Iam not to be considered. I ask no favour for myself."
"I see that you have brought your pride with you," said the Secretarydryly.
Prescott flushed a little.
"I trust that I always have it with me," he said.
"We are frank with each other."
"It is best so, and I have come for yet plainer speaking. I am wellaware, Mr. Sefton, that you know all there is to be known concerningMiss Catherwood and myself."
"'All' is a large statement."
"I refer to the facts of Miss Catherwood's former presence in Richmond,what she did while here, and how she escaped from the city. You knowthat I helped her."
"And by doing so you put yourself in an extremely delicate position,should any one choose to relate the facts to the Government."
"Precisely. But again it is Miss Catherwood of whom I am speaking, notmyself. You may speak of me, you may denounce me at any time you choose,but I ask you, Mr. Sefton, to respect the secret of Miss Catherwood. Shehas told me that her acts were almost involuntary; she came here becauseshe had nowhere else to come--to her cousin, Miss Grayson. She admitsthat she was once tempted to act as a spy--that the impulse was strongwithin her. You know the depth of her Northern sympathies, the strengthof her nature, and how deeply she was moved--but that is all she admits.This impulse has now passed. Would you ruin her here, as you can do,where she has so many friends, and where it is possible for her life tobe happy?"
A thin smile appeared on the face of the Secretary.
"You will pardon me if I call this a somewhat extraordinary appeal,Captain Prescott," he said. "You seem to show a deep interest in MissCatherwood, and yet if I am to judge by what I saw the other night, andbefore, your devotion is for another lady."
Prescott flushed an angry red; but remembering his resolve he repliedquietly:
"It is not a question of my devotion to anybody, Mr. Sefton. I merelyspeak for Miss Catherwood, believing that she is in your power."
"And what induced you to believe that I would betray her?"
"I have not indicated such a belief. I merely seek to provide against acontingency."
The Secretary pondered, lightly tapping the table with the forefinger ofhis right hand. Prescott observed his thin, almost ascetic face,smooth-shaven and finely cut. Both General Wood and the Secretary weremountaineers, but the two faces were different; one represented bluntstrength and courage; the other suppleness, dexterity, meditation, thepower of silent combination. Had the two been blended here would havebeen one of the world's giant figures.
"We have begun by being frank; we should continue so," said theSecretary presently. "We seem doomed to be rivals always, CaptainPrescott; at least we can give each other the credit of good taste. Atfirst it was Helen Harley who took our fancy--a fancy it was and nothingmore--but now I think a deeper passion has been stirred in us by thesame object, Miss Catherwood. You see, I am still frank. I know verywell that you care nothing for Mrs. Markham. It is but a momentaryfolly, the result of jealousy or something akin to it--and here I am,resolved to triumph over you, not because I would enjoy your defeat, butbecause my own victories are sweet to me. If I happen to hold in my handcertain cards which chance has not dealt to you, can you blame me if Iplay them?"
"Will you spare Miss Catherwood?" asked Prescott.
"Should I not play my cards?" repeated the Secretary.
"I see," said Prescott. "You told me that I brought my pride with me.Well, I did not bring all of it. I left at home enough to permit me toask this favour of you. But I was wrong; I should not have made therequest."
"I have not refused it yet," said the Secretary. "I merely do not wishto pledge myself. When a man makes promises he places bonds on his ownarms, and I prefer mine free; but since I seek Miss Catherwood as awife, is it not a fair inference that her fame is as dear to me as it isto you?"
Prescott was compelled to admit the truth of this statement, but it didnot cover all the ground. He felt that the Secretary, while notbetraying Lucia, would in some way use his knowledge of her for his ownadvantage. This was the thought at the bottom of his mind, but he couldnot speak it aloud to the Secretary. Any man would repel such anintimation at once as an insult, and the agile mind of James Seftonwould make use of it as another strong trump card in playing his game.
"Then you will make no promise?" asked Prescott.
"Promises are poor coin," replied the Secretary, "hardly better than ourConfederate bills. Let me repeat that the fame of Lucia Catherwood is asdear to me as it is to you. With that you should be content."
"If that is all, good-day," said Prescott, and he went out, holding hishead very high. The Secretary saw defiance in his attitude.
Mr. Sefton went the following evening to the little house in the crossstreet, seeking an interview with Lucia Catherwood, and she, holdingmany things in mind, was afraid to deny him.
"It is your friend, Captain Prescott, of whom I wish to speak," he said.
"Why my friend rather than the friend of anybody else?" she asked.
"He has been of service to you, and for that reason I wish to be ofservice to him. There has been talk about him. He may find himselfpresently in a very dangerous position."
The face of Lucia Catherwood flushed very red and then became equallypale. The Secretary noticed how her form stiffened, nor did he fail toobserve the single angry flash from her eyes. "She cares very much forthat man," was his mental comment. The Secretary was not less frank withhimself in his love than in other matters.
"If you have come here merely to discuss Richmond gossip I shall beg youto leave at once," she said coldly.
"You misunderstand me," replied the Secretary. "I do not speak of anyaffair of the heart that Captain Prescott may have. It is no concern ofmine where his affections may fall, even if it be in an unlicensedquarter. The difficulty to which I allude is of another kind. There ismalicious gossip in Richmond; something has leaked out in some way thatconnects him with an affair of a spy last winter. Connect is scarcelythe word, because that is too definite; this is exceedingly vague.Harley spoke of it the other night, and although he did not callPrescott by name, his manner indicated that he was the man meant. Harleyseems to have received a little nebulous information from a certainquarter, not enough upon which to take action had one the malice to wishit, but enough to indicate that he might obtain more from the sameso
urce."
The Secretary paused, and his expression was one of mingled concern andsympathy. A young man whom he liked was about to fall into seriousdifficulties and he would save him from them if he could. Yet theyunderstood each other perfectly. A single glance, a spark from steellike that which had passed between Prescott and the Secretary, passednow between these two. The Secretary was opening another mine in thearduous siege that he had undertaken; if he could not win by treaty hewould by arms, and now he was threatening her through Prescott.
She did not flinch and therefore she won his increased admiration. Hernatural colour returned and she met his glance firmly. The life of LuciaCatherwood had been hard and she was trained to repression andself-reliance.
"I do not understand why you should speak of this to me," she said.
"Merely that you might exert your influence in his favour."
She was measuring him then with a glance not less penetrating than hisown. Why should she seek now to save Prescott? But she would, if shecould. This was a threat that the Secretary might keep, but not at once,and she would seek time.
"Captain Prescott has done me a great service," she said, "and naturallyI should be grateful to any who did as much for him."
"Perhaps some one who will do as much can be found," he said. "It may bethat I shall speak to him of you later and then he will claim the rewardthat you promise."
It was on her lips to say that she promised nothing except gratitude,but she withheld the words. It suddenly seemed fair to a singularlyhonest mind to meet craft with craft. She had heard of the militaryphrase, "in the air"; she would leave the Secretary in the air. So shemerely said:
"I am not in Captain Prescott's confidence, but I know that he willthank you."
"He should," said the Secretary dryly, and left her.
Almost at the very moment that the Secretary was going to the Graysoncottage Prescott was on his way to Winthrop's newspaper office.
There was little to be done, and a group including General Wood, who hadcome that afternoon from Petersburg, sat in the old fashion by the stoveand talked of public affairs, especially the stage into which the warhad now come. The heat of the room felt grateful, as a winter night wasfalling outside, and in the society of his friends Prescott foundhimself becoming more of an optimist than he had been for some days.Cheerfulness is riveted in such a physical base as youth and strength,and Prescott was no exception. He could even smile behind his hand whenhe saw General Wood draw forth the infallible bowie-knife, pull a pieceof pine from a rickety box that held fuel for the stove and begin towhittle from it long, symmetrical shavings that curled beautifully. Thiswas certain evidence that General Wood, for the evening at least, wasinclined to look on the bright side of life.
Unto this placid group came two men, walking heavily up the woodenstairs and showing signs of mental wear. Their eyebrows were raised withsurprise at the sight of Prescott, but they made no comment. They wereHarley and Redfield.
Harley approached Winthrop with a jovial air.
"I've found you a new contributor to your paper and he's ready to bringyou a most interesting piece of news."
Winthrop flipped the ash off his cigar and regarded Harley coolly.
"Colonel!" he said, "I'm always grateful for good news, but I don't takeit as a favour. If it comes to the pinch I can write my newspaper all bymyself."
Harley changed countenance and his tone changed too.
"It's in the interest of justice," he said, "and it will be sure toattract attention at the same time."
"I imagine that it must be in the interest of justice when you and Mr.Redfield take so much trouble to secure its publication," said Winthrop;"and I imagine that I'm not risking much when I also say that you arethe brilliant author who has written the little piece."
"It's this," said Harley. "It's about a man who has been paying tooardent attentions to a married woman--no names given, of course; he is acaptain, a young man who is here on leave, and she is the wife of ageneral who is at the front and can't look after his own honour. Gossipsays, too, that the captain has been concerned in something else thatwill bring him up with a jerk if the Government hears of it. It's allwritten out here. Oh, it will make a fine stir!"
Prescott half rose from his seat, but sank back and remained quiet.Again he imitated the Secretary's example of self-repression and waitedto see what Winthrop would do. General Wood trimmed off a shaving solong that it coiled all the way around his wrist. Then he took it offcarefully, dropped it on the floor with the others, and at once went towork whittling a new one.
"Let's see the article," said Winthrop.
Harley handed it to him and he read it carefully.
"A fine piece of work," he said; "who wrote it--you or Redfield?"
"Oh, we did it together," replied Harley with a smile of appreciation.
Redfield uttered a denial, but it was too late.
"A fine piece of work," repeated Winthrop, "admirably adapted to thekindling of fires. Unfortunately my fire is already kindled, but it canhelp on the good cause."
With that he cast the paper into the stove.
Harley uttered an oath.
"What do you mean?" he cried.
"I mean that you can't use my paper to gratify your private revenge. Ifyou want to do that sort of thing you must get a newspaper of your own."
"I think you are infernally impertinent."
"And I think, Vincent Harley, that you are a damned fool. You want aduel with the man about whom you've written this card, but for excellentreasons he will decline to meet you. Still I hate to see a man who islooking for a fight go disappointed, and just to oblige you I'll fightyou myself."
"But I've no quarrel with you," said Harley sullenly.
"Oh, I can give you ample cause," said Winthrop briskly. "I can throwthis water in your face, or if you prefer it I can give you a blow onthe cheek, a hard one, too. Take your choice."
Prescott arose.
"I'm much obliged to you, Winthrop," he said, "for taking up my quarreland trying to shield me. All of you know that I am meant in that cardwhich he calls such 'a piece of good news.' I admire Colonel Harley'smethods, and since he is so persistent I will fight him on the conditionthat the meeting and its causes be kept absolutely secret. If either ofus is wounded or killed let it be said that it was in a skirmish withthe enemy."
"Why these conditions?" asked Redfield.
"For the sake of others. Colonel Harley imagines that he has agrievance against me. He has none, and if he had the one that heimagines he is certainly in no position to call me to account. Since hewill have it no other way, I will fight him."
"I object," said Winthrop with temper. "I have a prior claim. ColonelHarley has tried to use me, an unoffending third party, as theinstrument of his private revenge, and that is a deadly offense. I havethe reputation of being a hot-blooded man and I intend to live up to myreputation."
A glass of water was standing by the cooler. He lifted it and hurled thecontents into Harley's face. The man started back, strangling andcoughing, then wiped the water from his face with a handkerchief.
"Do you dispute the priority of my claim over Captain Prescott?" askedWinthrop.
"I do not," said Harley. "Mr. Redfield will call on you again in mybehalf within an hour."
Prescott was irresolute.
"Winthrop," he said, "I can't permit this."
"Oh, yes, you can," said Winthrop, "because you can't help yourself."
Then General Wood upreared his gigantic form and ran the fingers of hisleft hand solemnly through his black whiskers. He put his bowie-knife inits sheath, brushed the last shaving off his trousers and said:
"But there's somebody who can help it, an' I'm the man. What's more, Imean to do it. Colonel Harley, General Lee transferred your regiment tomy command yesterday and I need you at the front. I order you to reportfor duty at once, and I won't have any delay about it either. You reportto me in Petersburg to-morrow or I'll know the reason why; I go myselfat d
aylight, but I'll leave a request with the Government that CaptainPrescott also be despatched to me. I've got work for him to do."
The man spoke with the utmost dignity and his big black eyes shot fire.
"The king commands," said Raymond softly.
Wood put his hand on Harley's arm.
"Colonel," he said, "you are one of my lieutenants, and we're thinkin'about a movement that I've got to talk over with you. You'll come withme now to the Spotswood Hotel, because there's no time to waste. I don'treckon you or I will get much sleep to-night, but if we don't sleepto-night we'll doze in the saddle to-morrow."
"The king not only commands, but knows what to command," said Raymondsoftly.
It was the general of the battlefield, the man of lightning force whospoke, and there was none who dared to disobey. Harley, himself abrilliant soldier though nothing else, yielded when he felt the hand ofsteel on his arm, and acknowledged the presence of a superior force.
"Very well, General," he said respectfully; "I am at your service."
"Good-night, gentlemen," said Wood to the others, and he addedlaughingly to the editors: "Don't you boys print anythin' until you knowwhat you're printin'," and to Prescott: "I reckon you'd better saygood-by to-morrow to your friends in Richmond. I don't allow that you'llhave more'n a couple of days longer here," and then to Harley: "Comealong, Colonel; an' I s'pose you're goin' out with us, too, Mr.Redfield."
He swept up the two with his glance and the three left together, theirfootsteps sounding on the rickety steps until they passed into thestreet.
"There goes a man, a real man," said Raymond with emphasis. "Winthrop,it takes such as he to reduce fellows like you and Harley to theirproper places."
"It is unkind of him to kidnap Harley in that summary fashion," saidWinthrop ruefully. "I really wanted to put a bullet through him. Not ina vital place--say through the shoulder or the fleshy part of the arm,where it would let blood flow freely. That's what he needs."
But Prescott was devoutly thankful to Wood, and especially for hispromise that he, too, should speedily be sent to the front. What hewished most of all now was to escape from Richmond.
The promise was kept, the order to report to General Wood himself inPetersburg came the next day and he was to start on the followingmorning.
He took courage to call upon Lucia and found her at home, sittingsilently in the little parlour, the glow from the fire falling acrossher hair and tinting it with deep gleams of reddish gold. Whether shewas surprised to see him he could not judge, her face remaining calm andno movement that would betray emotion escaping her.
"Miss Catherwood," he said, "I have come to bid you farewell. I rejointhe army to-morrow and I am glad to go."
"I, too, am glad that you are going," she said, shading her eyes withher hands as if to protect them from the glow of the fire.
"There is one thing that I would ask of you," he said, "and it is thatyou remember me as I was last winter, and not as I have appeared to yousince I returned from the South. That was real; this is false."
His voice trembled, and she did not speak, fearing that her own would dothe same.
"I have made mistakes," he said. "I have yielded to rash impulses, andhave put myself in a false position before the world; but I have notbeen criminal in anything, either in deed or intent. Even now what Iremember best, the memory that I value most, is when you and I fledtogether from Richmond in the cold and the snow, when you trusted me andI trusted you."
She wished to speak to him then, remembering the man, stained with hisown blood, whom she had carried in her strong young arms off thebattlefield. With a true woman's heart she liked him better when she wasacting for him than when he was acting for her; but something held herback--the shadow of a fair woman with lurking green depths in her blueeyes.
"Lucia!" exclaimed Prescott passionately, "have you nothing to say tome? Can't you forget my follies and remember at least the few goodthings that I have done?"
"I wish you well. I cannot forget the great service that you did me,and I hope that you will return safely from a war soon to end."
"You might wish anybody that, even those whom you have never seen," hesaid.
Then with a few formal words he went away, and long after he was goneshe still sat there staring into the fire, the gleams of reddish gold inher hair becoming fainter and fainter.
Prescott left Richmond the next morning.