XXXIII.
_CARL MAKES AN ENGAGEMENT._
Lysander looked in through the doors and saw flames. She had touched thelamp to the sitting-room curtains, and they had ignited the wood-work.
"Your own house," he said, furiously. "What a fiend!"
"It was my father's house until you took possession of it," sheanswered. "Now it shall burn."
If he had not already considered that he had an interest at stake, thatgentle remark reminded him.
"Boys! come quick! By----! we must put out the fire!"
He rushed into the kitchen. The German brothers had come to execute hiscommands: whether to flay a negro or extinguish a fire, was to them amatter of indifference; and they followed him, seizing pails.
Salina was prepared for the emergency. She held a butcher-knifeconcealed under her folded arms. With this she cut the cords aboveToby's thumbs. It was done in an instant.
"Now, take this and run! If they go to take you, kill them!"
She thrust the handle of the knife into his hand, and pushed him fromthe shed. Terrified, bewildered, weak, he seemed moving in a kind ofnightmare. But somehow he got around the corner of the shed, anddisappeared in the darkness.
The brothers saw him go. They were drawing water at the well, andhanding it to Lysander in the house. But they had been told to handwater, not to catch the negro. So they looked placidly at each other,and said nothing.
The fire was soon extinguished; and Lysander, with his coat off, pail inhand, excited, turned and saw his "fiend" of a wife seated composedly ina chair, regarding him with a smile sarcastic and triumphant. He uttereda frightful oath.
"Any more of your tantrums, and I'll kill you!"
"Any more of yours," she replied, "and I'll burn you up. I can set firesfaster than you can put them out. I don't care for the house any morethan I care for my life, and that's precious little."
By the tone in which she said these words, level, determined, distinct,with that spice which compressed fury lends, Captain Lysander Sprowlknew perfectly well that she meant them.
The brothers looked at each other intelligently. One said something inGerman, which we may translate by the words "Incompatibility of temper;"and he smiled with dry humor. The other responded in the same tongue,and with a sleepy nod, glancing phlegmatically at Sprowl. What he saidmay be rendered by the phrase--"Caught a Tartar."
Although Lysander did not understand the idiom, he seemed to be quite ofthe Teutonic opinion. He regarded Mrs. Sprowl with a sort of impotentrage. If he was reckless, she had shown herself more reckless. Though hewas so desperate, she had outdone him in desperation. He saw plainlythat if he touched her now, that touch must be kindness, or it must bedeath.
"Have you let Toby go?"
"Yes," replied Salina.
"We can catch him," said Lysander.
"If you do you will be sorry. I warn you in season."
Since she said so, Lysander did not doubt but that it would be so. Heconcluded, therefore, not to catch Toby--that night. Moreover, heresolved to go back to his quarters and sleep. He was afraid of thatwildcat; he dreaded the thought of trusting himself in the house withher. He durst not kill her, and he durst not go to sleep, leaving heralive. The Germans, perceiving his fear, looked at each other andgrunted. That grunt was the German for "mean cuss." They saw throughLysander.
After all were gone, Salina went out and called Toby. The old negro hadfled for his life, and did not hear. She returned into the house, theaspect of which was rendered all the more desolate and drear by themarks of fire, the water that drenched the floor, the smoky atmosphere,and the dim and bluish lamp-light. The unhappy woman sat down in thelonely apartment, and thought of her brief dream of happiness, of thislast quarrel which could never be made up, and of the hopeless,loveless, miserable future, until it seemed that the last drop ofwomanly blood in her veins was turned to gall.
At the same hour, not many miles away, on a rude couch in a mountaincave, by her father's side, Virginia was tranquilly sleeping, anddreaming of angel visits. Across the entrance of the cavern, like anogre keeping guard, Cudjo was stretched on a bed of skins. The fire,which rarely went out, illumined faintly the subterranean gloom. By itslight came one, and looked at the old man and his child sleeping there,so peacefully, so innocently, side by side. The face of the father wassolemn, white, and calm; that of the maiden, smiling and sweet. Theheart of the young man yearned within him; his eyes, as they gazed,filled with tears; and his lips murmured with pure emotion,--
"O Lord, I thank thee for their sakes! O Lord, preserve them and blessthem!"
And he moved softly away, his whole soul suffused with ineffabletenderness towards that good old man and the dear, beautiful girl. Hehad stolen thither to see that all was well. All was indeed well. Andnow he retired once more to a recess in the rock, where he and Pomp hadmade their bed of blankets and dry moss.
The footsteps on the solid floor of stone had not awakened her. And whatwas more remarkable, the lover's beating heart and worshipping gaze hadnot disturbed her slumber. But now the slightest movement on the part ofher blind parent banishes sleep in an instant.
"Daughter, are you here?"
"I am here, father!"
"Are you well, my child?"
"O, very well! I have had such a sweet sleep! Can I do anything foryou?"
"Yes. Let me feel that you are near me. That is all." She kissed him."Heaven is good to me!" he said.
She watched him until he slept again. Then, her soul filled withthankfulness and peace, she closed her eyes once more, and happythoughts became happy dreams.
At about that time Salina threw herself despairingly upon her bed, athome, gnashing her teeth, and wishing she had never been born. And thesetwo were sisters. And Salina had the house and all its comforts left toher, while Virginia had nothing of outward solace for her delicatenature but the rudest entertainment. So true it is that not place, andapparel, and pride make us happy, but piety, affection, and thedisposition of the mind.
The night passed, and morning dawned, and they who had slept awoke, andthey who had not slept watched bitterly the quickening light whichbrought to them, not joy and refreshment, but only another phase ofweariness and misery.
Captain Lysander Sprowl was observed to be in a savage mood that day.The cares of married life did not agree with him: they do not with somepeople. Because Salina had baffled him, and Toby had escaped, hisinferiors had to suffer. He was sharp even with Lieutenant Ropes, whocame to report a fact of which he had received information.
"Stackridge was in the village last night!"
"What's that to me?" said Lysander.
"The lieutenant-colonel--" whispered Silas. Sprowl grew attentive. By thelieutenant-colonel was meant no other person than Augustus Bythewood,who had received his commission the day before. Well might Lysander, atthe mention of him to whom both these aspiring officers owed everything,bend a little and listen. Ropes proceeded. "He feels a cussed sightbadder now he believes the gal is in a cave somewhars with theschoolmaster, than he did when he thought she was burnt up in the woods.He entirely approves of your conduct last night, and says Toby must beketched, and the secret licked out of him. In the mean while he thinkssunthin' can be done with Stackridge's family. Stackridge was home lastnight, and of course his wife will know about the cave. The secret mightbe frightened out on her, or, I swear!" said Silas, "I wouldn't objectto using a little of the same sort of coercion you tried with Toby; andBythewood wouldn't nuther. Only, you understand, he musn't be supposedto know anything about it."
Lysander's eyes gleamed. He showed his tobacco-stained teeth in a waythat boded no good to any of the name of Stackridge.
"Good idee?" said Silas, with a coarse and brutal grin.
"Damned good!" said Lysander. Indeed, it just suited his ferocious mood."Go yourself, lieutenant, and put it into execution."
"There's one objection to that," replied Silas, thrusting a quid intohis cheek. "I know the old woman so well. It's best
that none of us inauthority should be supposed to have a hand in't. Send somebody thatdon't know her, and that you can depend on to do the job up harnsome.How's them Dutchmen?"
"Just the chaps!" said Lysander, growing good-natured as the pleasantidea of whipping a woman developed itself more and more to hisappreciative mind.
From flogging a slave, to flogging a free negro, the step is short andeasy. From the familiar and long-established usage of beatingslave-women, to the novel fashion of whipping the patriotic wives ofUnion men, the step is scarcely longer, or more difficult. Even thechivalrous Bythewood, who was certainly a gentleman in the commonacceptation of the term, magnificently hospitable to his equals, gallantto excess among ladies worthy of his smiles,--yet who never interferedto prevent the flogging of slave-mothers on his estates,--saw nothingextraordinary or revolting in the idea of extorting a secret from ahated Union woman by means of the lash. To such gross appetites forcruelty as Ropes had cultivated, the thing relished hugely. The keen,malignant palate of Lysander tasted the flavor of a good joke in it.
The project was freely discussed, and in the hilarity of their heartsthe two officers let fall certain words, like crumbs from their table,which a miserable dog chanced to pick up.
That miserable dog was Dan Pepperill, whose heart was so much biggerthan his wit. He knew that mischief was meant towards Mrs. Stackridge.How could he warn her? The drums were already beating for company drill,and he despaired of doing anything to save her, when by good fortune--oris there something besides good fortune in such things?--he saw one ofhis children approaching.
The little Pepperill came with a message from her mother. Dan heard itunheedingly, then whispered in the girl's ear,--
"Go and tell Mrs. Stackridge her and the childern's invited over to ourhouse this forenoon. Right away now! Partic'lar reasons, tell her!"added Dan, reflecting that ladies in Mrs. Stackridge's station did notvisit those in his wife's without particular reasons.
The child ran away, and Pepperill fell into the ranks, only to getrepeatedly and severely reprimanded by the drill-officer for hisheedlessness that morning. He did everything awkwardly, if notaltogether wrong. His mind was on the child and the errand on which hehad sent her, and he kept wondering within himself whether she would doit correctly (children are so apt to do errands amiss!), and whetherMrs. Stackridge would be wise enough, or humble enough, to go quietlyand give Mrs. P. a call.
After company drill the brothers were summoned, and Lysander gave themsecret orders. They were to visit Stackridge's house, seize Mrs.Stackridge and compel her, by blows if necessary, to tell where herhusband was concealed.
"You understand?" said the captain.
"Ve unterstan," said they, dryly.
Scarcely had the brothers departed, when a prisoner was brought in. Itwas Toby, who had been caught endeavoring to make his way up into themountains.
"Now we've got the nigger, mabby we'd better send and call the Dutchmenback," said Silas Ropes.
"No, no!" said Lysander, through his teeth. "'Twon't do any harm to givethe jade a good dressing down. I wish every man, woman, and child, thatshrieks for the old rotten Union, could be served in the same way."
Having set his heart on this little indulgence, Sprowl could not easilybe persuaded to give it up. It was absolutely necessary to his peace ofmind that somebody should be flogged. The interesting affair with Toby,which had been so abruptly broken off,--left, like a novelette in thenewspapers, to be continued,--must be concluded in some shape: itmattered little upon whose flesh the final chapters were struck off.
In the mean time the recaptured negro was taken to the guard-house.There he found a sympathizing companion. It was Carl. To him he told hisstory, and showed his wounds, the sight of which filled the heart of thelad with rage, and pity, and grief.
"Vot sort of Tutchmen vos they?" Toby described them. Carl's eyeskindled. "I shouldn't be wery much susprised," said he, "if they vos--nomatter!"
Lieutenant Ropes arrived, bringing into the guard-house a formidablecat-o'-nine-tails.
"String that nigger up," said Silas.
Ropes was not the man to await patiently the issue of thewoman-whipping, while here was a chance for a little private sport. Heremembered how Toby had got away from him once--that he too owed him aflogging. Debts of this kind, if no others, Silas delighted to pay; andaccordingly the negro was strung up. It was well for the lieutenant thatCarl had irons on his wrists.
The sound of the poor old man's groans,--the sight of his gashed,oozing, and inflamed back, bared again to the whip,--was to Carlunendurable. But as it was not in his power to obey the impulse of hissoul, to spring for a musket and slay that monster of cruelty, Ropes, onthe spot,--he must try other means, perhaps equally unwise anddesperate, to save Toby from torture.
"Vait, sir, if you please, vun leetle moment," he called out to Silas."I have a vord or two to shpeak."
He had as yet, however, scarcely made up his mind what to propose. Amoment's reflection convinced him that only one thing could purchaseToby's reprieve; and perhaps even that would fail. Regardless ofconsequences to himself, he resolved to try it.
"I know petter as he does about the cave; I vos there," he cried out,boldly.
"Hey? You offer yourself to be whipped in this old nigger's place?" saidRopes.
"Not wery much," replied Carl. "I can go mit you or anypody you villsend, and show vair the cave is. I remember. But if you vill have mewhipped, I shouldn't be wery much surprised if that vould make me toforget. Whippins," he added, significantly, "is wery pad for thememory."
"You mean to say, if you are licked, then you won't tell?"
"That ish the idea I vished to conwey."
"We'll see about that." Silas laughed. "In the mean time we'll try whatcan be got out of this nigger."
Toby, who had had a gleam of hope, now fell again into despair. Justthen Captain Sprowl came in.
"Hold! What are you doing with that nigger?"
Silas explained, and Carl repeated his proposal. Lysander caught eagerlyat it. He remembered Salina's warning, and was glad of any excuse toliberate the old negro.
"You promise to take me to the cave?" Carl assented. "Why, then,lieutenant, that's all we want, and I order this boy to be set free."
"This boy" was Toby, who was accordingly let off, to his owninexpressible joy and Ropes's infinite disgust.
"If Carl he take de responsumbility to show de cave, dat ain't my fault.'Sides, dat boy am bright, he am; de secesh can't git much de start o'him!"
Thus the old negro congratulated himself on his way home. At the sametime Carl, still in irons, was saying to himself,--
"So far so goot. If they had whipped Toby, two things vould be werypad--the whipping, for one, and he would have told, for another. But Ihave made vun promise. It vas a pad promise, and a pad promise is petterproken as kept. But if I preak it, they vill preak my head. Vot shall Ido? Now let me see!" said Carl.
And he remained plunged in thought.