CHAPTER XII
A FLIGHT BY TWO
It was about ten by the watch, and a very cold, dark and quiet night,when Prescott reached the Grayson cottage and paused a moment at thegate, the dry snow crumbling under his heels. There was no light in thewindow, nor could he see any smoke rising from the chimney. The coalmust be approaching the last lump, he thought, and the gold would begone soon, too. But there was another and greater necessity than eitherof those driving him on, and, opening the gate, he quickly knocked uponthe door. It was low but heavy, a repeated and insistent knock, like themuffled tattoo of a drum, and at last Miss Grayson answered, opening thedoor a scant four inches and staring out with bright eyes.
"Mr. Prescott!" she exclaimed, "it is you! You again! Ah, I have warnedyou and for your own good, too! You cannot enter here!"
"But I must come in," he replied; "and it is for my own good, too, aswell as yours and Miss Catherwood's."
She looked at him with searching inquiry.
"Don't you see that I am freezing on your doorstep?" he saidhumourously.
He saw her frown plainly by the faint flicker of the firelight, and knewshe did not relish a jest at such a time.
"Let me in and I will tell you everything," he added quickly. "It is anerrand more urgent than any on which I have come before."
She opened the door slowly, belief and unbelief competing in her mind,and when it was closed again Prescott insisted upon knowing at once ifMiss Catherwood were still in the house.
"Yes, she is here," Miss Grayson replied at last and reluctantly.
"Then I must see her and see her now," said Prescott, as he quietly tooka seat in the chair before her.
"You cannot see her again," said Miss Grayson.
"I do not move from this chair until she comes," said Prescottresolutely, as he spread his fingers out to the tiny blaze.
Miss Grayson gave him one angry glance; her lips moved as if she wouldsay something, but changing her mind, she took a chair on the other sideof the fire and her face also bore the cast of resolution.
"It is no use, Miss Grayson," said Prescott. "I am here for the best ofpurposes, I assure you, and I will not stir. Please call MissCatherwood."
Miss Grayson held out for a minute or two longer, and then, a red spotin either cheek, she walked into the next room and returned with Lucia.
Prescott knew her step, light as it was, before she came, and his heartbeat a little more heavily. He rose, too, and bowed with deep respectwhen she appeared, feeling a strange thrill of pleasure at seeing heragain.
He had wondered in what aspect she would appear, she whose nature seemedto him so varied and contradictory, and whose face was the index tothese changing phases. She came in quietly, a young girl, pale,inquiring, yet saying no word; but there was a sparkle in her gaze thatmade the blood leap for a moment to Prescott's face.
"Miss Catherwood," he said, "you forbade me to return here, but I havecome nevertheless."
She was still silent, her inquiring look upon him.
"You must leave Richmond to-night!" he said. "There must be no delay."
She made a gesture as if she would call his attention to the frozenworld outside and said:
"I am willing enough to leave Richmond if I knew a way."
"I will find the way--I go with you!"
"That I cannot permit; you shall not risk your future by making such anattempt with me."
"It will certainly be risked greatly if I do not make the attempt withyou," he replied.
They looked at him in wonder. Prescott saw now, by a sudden intuition,the course of action that would appeal to them most, and he said:
"It is as much for my sake as it is for yours. That you are here isknown to a man powerful in this Government, and he knows also that I amaware of your presence. There is to be another search for you and Ishall be forced to lead it. It means my ruin unless you escape beforethat search begins."
Then he explained to them as much as he thought necessary, although hedid not give Mr. Sefton's name, and dwelt artfully upon his own perilrather than upon hers.
Lucia Catherwood neither moved nor spoke as Prescott told the story.Once there was a strange light in her eyes as she regarded him, but itwas momentary, gone like a flash, and her face remained expressionless.
"But is there a way?" asked Miss Grayson in doubt and alarm.
"I shall find a way," replied Prescott confidently. "Lift the curtainfrom the window and look. The night is dark and cold; all who can willbe under roofs, and even the sentinels will hug walls and earthworks.Now is our time."
"You must go, Lucia," said Miss Grayson decisively.
Miss Catherwood bowed assent and went at once to the next room toprepare for the journey.
"Will you care for her as if she were your own, your sister?" asked MissGrayson, turning appealingly to Prescott.
"As God is my witness," he replied, and the ring in his tone was so deepand true that she could not doubt it.
"I believe you," said this bravest of old maids, looking him steadfastlyin the eye for a few moments and then following the girl into the nextroom.
Prescott sat alone by the fire, staring at three or four coals thatglowed redly on the hearth, and wondering how he should escape withthis girl from Richmond. He had said confidently that he should find away and he believed he would, but he knew of none.
They came back presently, the girl wrapped to the eyes in a heavy blackcloak.
"It is Miss Grayson's," she said with a touch of humour. "She hasconsented to take my brown one in its place."
"Overshoes?" said Prescott, interrogatively.
Her feet peeped from beneath her dress.
"Two pairs," she replied. "I have on both Charlotte's and my own."
"Gloves?"
She held out her hands enclosed in the thickest mittens.
"You will do," said Prescott; "and now is the time for us to go."
He turned his back while these two women, tried by so many dangers,wished each other farewell. There were no tears, no vehementprotestations; just a silent, clinging embrace, a few words spoken low,and then the parting. Prescott's own eyes were moist. There must beunusual qualities in these two women to inspire so deep an attachment,so much capacity for sacrifice.
He opened the door an inch or so and, looking out, beheld a city silentand dark, like a city of the dead.
"Come," he said, and the two went out into the silence and colddesolation. He glanced back and saw the door yet open a few inches. Thenit closed and the brave old maid was left alone.
The girl shivered at the first touch of the night and Prescott askedanxiously if she found the cold too great.
"Only for a moment," she replied. "Which way shall we go?"
He started at the question, not yet having chosen a course, and repliedin haste:
"We must reach the Baltimore road; it is not so far to the Northernpickets, and when we approach them I can leave you."
"And you?" she said, "What is to become of you?"
All save her eyes was hidden by the dark cloak, but she looked up and hesaw there a light like that which had shone when she came forth to meethim in the house.
"I?" he replied lightly. "Don't worry about me. I shall return toRichmond and then help my army to fight and beat your army. ReallyGeneral Lee couldn't spare me, you know. Come!"
They stole forward, two shadows in the deeper shadow, the dry snowrustling like paper under their feet. From some far point came the faintcry of a sentinel, announcing to a sleepy world that all was well, andafter that the silence hung heavily as ever over the city. The cold wasnot unpleasant to either of them, muffled as they were in heavyclothing, for it imparted briskness and vigour to their strong youngbodies, and they went on at a swift pace through the densest part of thecity, into the thinning suburbs and then toward the fields and openspaces which lay on the nearer side of the earthworks. Not a human beingdid they see not a dog barked at them as they passed, scarcely a lightshowed in a window; al
l around them the city lay in a lethargy beneathits icy covering.
Involuntarily the girl, oppressed by the loneliness which had taken on acertain weird quality, walked closer to Prescott, and he could faintlyhear her breathing as she fled with him, step for step.
"The Baltimore road lies there," he said, "and yonder are earthworks.See! Where the faint light is twinkling! that low line is what we haveto pass."
They heard the creaking of wagons and the sound of voices as of menspeaking to horses, and stopped to listen. Then they beheld lightsnearer by on the left.
"Stay here a moment and I'll see what it is," said Prescott.
"Oh, don't leave me!" she cried with a sudden tremour.
"It is only for a moment," he replied, glad to hear that sudden tremourin her voice.
Turning aside he found close at hand an obscure tavern, and beside it atleast a dozen wagons, the horses hitched as if ready for a journey. Heguessed immediately that these were the wagons of farmers who had beenselling provisions in the city. The owners were inside taking somethingto warm them up for the home journey and the horses outside werestamping their feet with the same purpose.
"Not likely to bother us," was Prescott's unspoken comment as hereturned to the girl who stood motionless in the snow awaiting him. "Itis nothing," he said. "We must go forward now, watch our chance and slipthrough the earthworks."
She did not speak, but went on with him, showing an infinite trust thatappealed to every fiber of his being. The chill of the wintry night hadbeen driven away by vigourous exercise, but its tonic effect remainedwith both, and now their courage began to rise as they approached thefirst barrier. It seemed to them that they could not fail on such anight.
"There is an interval yonder between two of the earthworks," saidPrescott. "I'm sure we can pass them."
Silently they approached the opening. The moon glimmered but faintlyacross the white snow, and no sign of life came from the earthworks. Butas they drew near a sentinel, gun on shoulder, appeared walking back andforth, and beyond where his post ended was another soldier, likewisewalking back and forth, gun on shoulder.
"It is evident that our way doesn't lie there," said Prescott, turningback quickly lest the sentinel should see them and demand anexplanation.
"What shall we do?" she asked, seeming now to trust to him implicitly.
"Why, try another place," he replied lightly. "If at first you don'tsucceed, try, try again."
They tried again and failed as before. The sentinels of the Confederacyeverywhere were watchful, despite the wintry night and the littleapparent need of precaution. Yet the two were drawn closer and closertogether by the community of hope and despair, and when at last theydrifted back toward the tavern and the wagons Prescott felt as if he,too, were seeking to escape from Richmond to join the Army of the North.He even found it in his heart to condemn the vigilance of his own.
"Captain Prescott," said the girl, as they stood watching the light inthe tavern window, "I insist that you leave me here. I wish to make anattempt alone. Why should you risk yourself?"
"Even if you passed the fortifications," he replied, "you would perishin the frozen hills beyond. Do you think I have come so far to turn backnow?"
Staring at the wagons and the stamping horses, he noticed one of thefarmers come out of the tavern. His appearance gave Prescott a happyinspiration.
"Stay here a moment or two, Miss Catherwood," he said. "I want to talkto that man."
She obeyed without a word of protest, and he approached the farmer, wholurched toward one of the wagons. Prescott had marked this suggestivelurch, and it gave him an idea.
The farmer, heated by many warm drinks, was fumbling with the gear ofhis horses when Prescott approached, and to his muddled eyes thestranger seemed at least a general, looming very stiff and very tallwith his great military cloak drawn threateningly about him.
"What is your name?" asked Prescott sternly.
The severe tone made a deep and proper impression on the intoxicatedgentleman's agricultural mind, so he replied promptly, though with astutter:
"Elias Gardner."
"Where are you from, Elias, and what are you doing here?"
The military discipline about Richmond was very strict, and the farmer,anxious to show his good standing, replied with equal promptness:
"From Wellsville. I've been selling a load of farm truck in Richmond.Oh, I've got my pass right enough, Colonel."
He took his pass from his pocket and handed it to the man who from thedignity and severity of his manner might be a general officer. Prescottlooking at it felt a thrill of joy, but there was no change in thesternness of his tone when he addressed the farmer again.
"Why, this pass," he said, "is made out to Elias Gardner _and wife_. Yousaid nothing about your wife."
The farmer was somewhat confused, and explained hastily that his wifewas going to stay awhile in Richmond with relatives, while he went homealone. In three or four days he would be back with another load ofprovisions and then he could get her. The face of the stern officergradually relaxed and he accused the good Mr. Gardner of takingadvantage of his wife's absence to enjoy himself. Prescott nodded hishead slightly toward the tavern, and the farmer, taking courage from thejocular contraction of the Colonel's left eye, did not resent theinsinuation. On the contrary, he enjoyed it, feeling that he was a devilof a fellow, and significantly tapped the left pocket of his coat, whichgave forth a ring as of glass.
"The quality of yours is bad," said Prescott. "Here, try mine; it's likevelvet to the throat, a tonic to the stomach, and it means sweet sleepto-morrow."
Drawing from his pocket his own well-filled flask, with which fromprudential motives he had provided himself before undertaking hisjourney, he handed it to Mr. Gardner of Wellsville and made him drinkdeep and long.
When the farmer finished he sighed deeply, and words of appreciation andgratitude flowed from his tongue.
"Bah, man!" said Prescott, "you cannot drink at all. You do not get thereal taste of it with one little sip like that on such a cold night asthis. Here, drink it down a real drink, this time. Are you a girl torefuse such liquor?"
The last taunt struck home, and Mr. Gardner of Wellsville, making amighty suspiration, drank so long and deep that the world wavered whenhe handed the flask back to Prescott, and a most generous fire leapedup and sparkled in his veins. But when he undertook to step forward thetreacherous earth slid from under his feet, and it was only the arm ofthe friendly officer that kept him from falling. He tried to reach hiswagon, but it unkindly moved off into space.
Prescott helped him to the wagon and then into it. "How my head goesround!" murmured the poor farmer.
"Another taste of this will put you all right," said Prescott, and heforced the neck of his flask into Elias Gardner's mouth. Elias drankdeeply, either because he wanted to or because he could not helphimself, and closing his eyes dropped off to slumber as peacefully as atired child.
Prescott laid Mr. Gardner down in the bed of his own wagon, and thenthis chivalrous Confederate officer picked a man's pocket--deliberatelyand with malice aforethought. But he did not take much--only a piece ofpaper with a little writing on it, which he put in the pocket of hiswaistcoat. Moreover, as a sort of compensation he pulled off the man'sovercoat--which was a poor one--and putting it on his own shoulders,wrapped his heavy military cloak around the prostrate farmer. Then hestretched him out in a comfortable place in the wagon bed and heapedempty sacks above him until Elias was as cozy as if he had been in hisown bed at home.
Having placed empty chicken crates on either side of Elias and othersacross the top, to form a sort of roof beneath which the man still sleptsweetly, though invisibly, Prescott contemplated his work for a momentwith deep satisfaction. Then he summoned the girl, and the two, mountingthe seat, drove the impatient horses along the well-defined road throughthe snow towards the interval between the earthworks.
"It is necessary for me to inform you, Miss Catherwood, that you're notMiss
Catherwood at all," said Prescott.
A faint gleam of humour flickered in her eye.
"And who am I, pray?" she asked.
"You are a much more respectable young woman than that noted Yankeespy," replied Prescott in a light tone. "You are Mrs. Elias Gardner, thewife of a most staid and worthy farmer, of strong Southern proclivities,living twenty miles out on the Baltimore road."
"And who are you?" she asked, the flicker of humour reappearing in hereye.
"I am Mr. Elias Gardner, your husband, and, as I have just said, a mosthonest and worthy man, but, unfortunately, somewhat addicted to the useof strong liquors, especially on a night as cold as this."
If Prescott's attention had not been demanded then by the horses hewould have seen a rosy glow appear on her face. But it passed in amoment, and she remained silent.
Then he told her of the whole lucky chance, his use of it, and how theway now lay clear before them.
"We shall take Mr. Gardner back home," he said, "and save him thetrouble of driving. It will be one of the easiest and most comfortablejourneys that he ever took, and not a particle of harm will come to himfrom it."
"But you? How will you get back into Richmond?"
She looked at him anxiously as she spoke.
"How do you know that I want to return?"
"I am speaking seriously."
"I am sure it will not be a difficult matter," he said. "A man alone canpass the fortifications of any city without much trouble. It is not amatter that I worry about at all. But please remember that you are Mrs.Elias Gardner, my wife, as questions may be asked of you before thisnight's journey ends."
The flush stole over her cheeks again, but she said nothing.
Prescott picked up the long whip, called a "black snake," which waslying on the seat and cracked it over the horses, a fine, sturdy pair,as he had noticed already. They stepped briskly along, as if anxious towarm themselves after their long wait in the cold, and Prescott, whowas a good driver, felt the glorious sensation of triumph overdifficulties glowing within him.
"Ho, for a fine ride, Mrs. Gardner!" he said gaily to the girl.
His high spirits were infectious and she smiled back at him.
"With such an accomplished driver holding the lines, and so fine achariot as this, it ought to be," she replied.
The horses blew the steam from their nostrils, the dry snow crunchedunder their heels, and the real Elias Gardner slumbered peacefully underhis own chicken crates as they approached the earthworks.
As before, when they had walked instead of coming in their own privatecarriage, they soon saw the sentinel, half frozen but vigilant, and hepromptly halted them. Prescott produced at once the pass that he hadpicked from the pocket of the unconscious Elias, and the sentinel calledthe officer of the guard, who appeared holding a dim lantern and yawningmightily.
Now this officer of the guard was none other than Thomas Talbot,Esquire, himself, as large as life but uncommonly sleepy, and anxious tohave done with his task. Prescott was startled by his friend'sappearance there at such a critical moment, but he remembered that thenight was dark and he was heavily muffled.
Talbot looked at the pass, expressed his satisfaction and handed it backto Prescott, who replaced it in his waistcoat pocket with ostentatiouscare.
"Cold night for a long drive," said Talbot, wishing to be friendly.
Prescott nodded but did not speak.
"Especially for a lady," added Talbot gallantly.
Miss Catherwood nodded also, and with muttered thanks Prescott,gathering up the lines, drove on.
"That was a particular friend of mine," he said, when they were beyondthe hearing of the outpost, "but I do not recall a time when the sightof him was more unwelcome."
"Well, at any rate, he was less troublesome than friends often are."
"Now, don't forget that you are still Mrs. Elias Gardner of Wellsville,"he continued, "as there are more earthworks and outposts to pass."
"I don't think that fugitives often flee from a city in their own coachand four," she said with that recurring flicker of humour.
"At least not in such a magnificent chariot as ours," he said, lookingaround at the lumbering farm wagon. The feeling of exultation wasgrowing upon him. When he had resolved to find a way he did not see one,but behold, he had found it and it was better than any for which he hadhoped. They were not merely walking out of Richmond--they were drivingand in comfort. The road seemed to have been made smooth and pleasantfor them.
There was another line of earthworks and an outpost beyond, but the passfor honest Elias Gardner and wife was sufficient. The officer, always ayoung man and disposed to be friendly, would glance at it, wave them ontheir way and retreat to shelter as quickly as possible.
The last barrier was soon crossed and they were alone in the whitedesolation of the snow-covered hills and forests. Meanwhile, the realElias Gardner slumbered peacefully in his own wagon, the "worldforgetting and by the world forgot."
"You must go back, Captain Prescott, as I am now well beyond theConfederate lines encircling Richmond and can readily care for myself,"said Miss Catherwood.
But he refused to do so, asserting with indignation that it was not hishabit to leave his tasks half finished, and he could not abandon her insuch a frozen waste as that lying around them. She protested no further,and Prescott, cracking his whip over the horses, increased their speed,but before long they settled into an easy walk. The city behind sankdown in the darkness, and before them curved the white world of hillsand forests, white even under its covering of a somber night.