CHAPTER VII
THE HOUR AND THE MAN
Lacy tore off his coat and vest, and threw them on the wharf, salutedthe general and stepped into the boat. Some one in the group lifted alantern. The flickering light fell on the pale faces of the determinedmen.
"Good-by, sir," said Beauregard. "You, at least, are an officer, asoldier of whom the South is proud. Remember the flagship is your game.She lies at anchor right off the Main Ship Channel. Good luck to you. Acolonel's shoulder straps await you here if you come back. God blessyou all!"
He wrung the major's hand, watched him step into the _David_ andwhisper an order to his men, heard him call out "Good-by, sir. If wedon't come back, don't forget us," and that was all.
The little boat was shoved away from the wharf by willing hands and ina moment was lost in the darkness of the bay. There was no moon, andthe night was dark. There was no light save from the stars. The torpedoboat slipped through the water without making a sound. She becameentirely invisible a hundred feet away. The officers rubbed their eyesas they stared in the direction where they had last seen her, almostfearing that she had again sunk beneath the sea. They stayed thereperhaps five minutes, at least until the blockade-runners, none of themshowing a light of any description, could get under way in obedience toa lantern signal from the general and noiselessly slip down the bay inthe wake of the frail little craft which it was hoped would be able toclear the path for them.
"Now," said Beauregard, turning away at last, "for Mr. Sempland. I donot understand it. I never thought him a coward."
"Nor am I, sir!" panted a voice out of the darkness, as a pale andbreathless man burst through the group surrounding the general.
"Mr. Sempland!"
"For God's sake, sir, am I in time? The boat?"
"Gone."
"How long? Call her back!"
"It is too late. She has been gone ten minutes. Where were you, sir?"
"Who took her out?"
"Major Lacy. Answer my question, sir!"
"He! My God! I am disgraced! Dishonored! And she--"
"Where were you, sir?"
"I--I--"
The young man hesitated.
"Why don't you answer? Do you realize your position? You begged thisdetail. Why were you not here?"
"Oh, General Beauregard--"
"How could you forget your honor, the South? Where were you, I say?Answer, or I will have you shot in the morning!"
"I--I--was detained, sir. I--"
"Is that your only excuse, sir?" sternly.
Sempland was in a fearful predicament. To have restrained him by forcewas an act of high treason. He could only explain himself byimplicating the woman he loved. The consequences in either case weredreadful. Fanny Glen a traitor to the South? Beauregard was a stern,inexorable soldier. He would not condone such an offence as hers. Thatshe had failed in her effort to prevent the expedition would meannothing to the general. Fanny Glen, the pride of Charleston, the womanwho had done more for the South than any other woman in the Carolinas,perhaps, to be disgraced, certainly to be punished, it might be--shot!
She had ruined him, but he had kissed her. He could not say the wordwhich would incriminate her and leave him free. He was disgracedalready, he would be cashiered. Well, what mattered it? His chance wasgone, the woman did not love him. His heart was hot against her. Yet heremembered the scene in the strong room--had she indeed returned hiskiss? He closed his lips firmly and said nothing. He would not, hecould not betray her, even to himself.
"You do not answer, sir! What excuse have you to offer?"
"None."
"You sought this detail. You forced yourself into the expedition. Haveyou nothing to say for yourself?"
"Nothing."
"You are under arrest, sir, for disobedience of orders, for derelictionof duty! By heavens!" said the general, striking his left hand with hisright, "for cowardice!"
"For God's sake, not that, sir!"
"For cowardice, sir! You knew the expedition was one of extreme hazard.You have no excuse to offer for not having been here. What else is it?"
"Not that, sir! Not that!" pleaded the lieutenant. "Anything but that!"
"A traitor, a coward, I say!"
"General Beauregard!" cried a high-pitched voice out of the darkness,shrill and unnatural with terror and fatigue. The next moment FannyGlen herself, bareheaded, panting from her rapid run, white-faced inthe light cast by the lantern held by the staff officer, pushed throughthe group surrounding the general.
"Where is Mr. Sempland, sir?" she asked.
"Here, under arrest. He failed to arrive in time. Can you explain it?"
"The boat?"
"Gone."
"Gone? Then who--"
"Major Lacy took it out."
"And the _Wabash_?"
"Will be blown up, please God, if all goes well."
The girl put her face in her hands as if to shut out some dreadfulpicture. She kept them there for a few seconds, then she lifted herhead and looked unsteadily from the severe face of the general to thecold, disdainful countenance of Sempland. The man she loved shrank awayfrom her.
"Useless! Too late!" she murmured, then fell fainting at their feet.