CHAPTER XXIII
OUT OF THE FOREST
The retreating brigade, the river behind it and the pursuit seeminglylost on the farther shore, passed on in the golden sunshine of themorning through, a country of gentle hills, green fields and scatteredforest.
It was joined three hours after sunrise by no less a person than Mr.Sefton himself, fresh, immaculate and with no trace of discomposure onhis face. He was on horseback, and told them he had just come across thefields from another division of the army not more than three miles away.He gave the news in a quiet tone, without any special emphasis upon themore important passages. The South had been compelled to give ground;Grant had lost more than fifty thousand men, but he was coming throughthe Wilderness and would not be denied. He was still fighting as if hehad just begun, and reinforcements were constantly pouring forward totake the places of the fallen in his ranks.
Prompted by a motive which even his own analytical mind could notdefine, the Secretary sought Lucia Catherwood. He admired her height,her strength and resolved beauty--knew that she was of a type asadmirable as it was rare, and wondered once or twice why he did not loveher instead of Helen Harley. Here was a woman with a mind akin to hisown--bold, keen and penetrating. And that face and figure! He wished hecould see her in a drawing-room, dressed as she should be, and with thelights burning softly overhead. Then she would be indeed a princess, ifthere were any such beings, in the true meaning of the word, on thisearth. She would be a fit wife for a great man--the greater half ofhimself.
But he did not love her; he loved Helen Harley--the Secretary confessedit to himself with a smothered half-sigh. At times he was pleased withthis sole and recently discovered weak spot in his nature, because itbrought to him some fresh and pleasing emotions, not at all akin to anythat he had ever felt before; but again it troubled him, as a flaw inhis armour. His love for Helen Harley might interfere with hisprogress--in fact, was doing so already, but he said to himself he couldnot help it. Now he was moved to talk to Lucia Catherwood. Dismountingfrom his horse, he took a place by her side.
She was walking near the rear of the column and there were others notmany feet away, but she was alone in the truest sense, having a feelingof personal detachment and aloofness. These people were kind to her, andyet there was a slight difference in their manner toward her and towardone another--a difference almost imperceptible and perhaps not intended,but sufficient to show her that she was not of them. Just now it gaveher such a sense of loneliness and exclusion that she almost welcomedthe smile of the Secretary when he spoke to her. As ready to recognizethe power in him as he was to note her own strong and keen mind, shewaited guardedly to hear what he had to say.
"Miss Catherwood," he said, "I was glad to assist you in your plan ofreturning to Richmond, but I have wondered why you should wish toreturn. If I may use a simile, Richmond is the heart of the storm, andhaving escaped from such a place, it seems strange that you should goback to it."
"There are many other women in Richmond," she replied, "and as they willnot be in any greater danger than I, should I be less brave than they?"
"But they have no other choice."
"Perhaps I have none either. Moreover, a time is coming when it is notphysical courage alone that will be needed. Look back, Mr. Sefton."
She pointed to the Wilderness behind them, where they saw the crimsonglow of flames against the blue sky, and long, trailing clouds of blacksmoke. The low mutter of guns, a continuous sound since sunrise, stillcame to their ears.
"The flames and the smoke," she said, "are nearer to Richmond than theywere yesterday, just as they were nearer yesterday than they were theday before."
"It is yet a long road to Richmond."
"But it is being shortened. I shall be there at the end. The nearest anddearest of all my relatives is in Richmond and I wish to be with her.There are other reasons, too, but the end of which I spoke is surelycoming and you know it as well as I. Perhaps you have long known it. Asfor myself, I have never doubted, despite great defeats."
"It is not given to men to have the faith of women."
"Perhaps not; but in this case it does not require faith: reason aloneis sufficient. What chance did the South ever have? The North, after allthese years, is just beginning to be aroused. Until the present you havebeen fighting only her vanguard. Sometimes it seems to me that men argueonly from passion and sentiment, not from reason. If reason alone hadbeen applied this war would never have been begun."
"Nor any other. It is a true saying that neither men nor women are everguided wholly for any long period by reason. That is wherephilosophers,--idealogists, Napoleon called them--make their mistake,and it is why the science of government is so uncertain--in fact, it isnot a question of science at all, but of tact."
The Secretary was silent for awhile, but he still walked beside MissCatherwood, leading his horse by the bridle. Prescott presently glancingback, beheld the two together and set his teeth. He did not like to seeLucia with that man and he wondered what had put them side by side. Heknew that she had a pass from Mr. Sefton, and this fresh fact added tohis uneasiness. Was it possible those two had a secret in common?
The Secretary saw the frown on Prescott's face and was pleased, thoughhe spoke of him and his great services. "He has more than courage--hehas sense allied with it. Sometimes I think that courage is one of thecommonest of qualities, but it is not often that it is supported bycoolness, discrimination and the ability to endure. A fine young man,Robert Prescott, and one destined to high honours. If he survive thewar, I should say that he will become the Governor of his State or risehigh in Congress."
He watched the girl closely out of the corner of his eye as he spoke,for he was forming various plans and, as Lucia Catherwood was includedin his comprehensive schemes, he wished to see the effect upon her ofwhat he said, but she betrayed nothing. So far as her expression wasconcerned Prescott might have been no more to her than any other chanceacquaintance. She walked on, the free, easy stride of her long limbscarrying her over the ground swiftly. Every movement showed physical andmental strength. Under the tight sleeve of her dress the muscle rippledslightly, but the arm was none the less rounded and feminine. Her chin,though the skin upon it was white and smooth like silk, was set firmlyand marked an indomitable will.
Curious thoughts again flowed through the frank mind of the Secretary.Much of his success in life was due to his ability to recognize factswhen he saw them. If he made failures he never sought to persuadehimself that they were successes or even partial successes; thus healways went upon the battlefield with exact knowledge of his resources.He wondered again why he did not fall in love with Lucia Catherwood.Here was the exact complement of himself, a woman with a mind a fit mateto his own. He had come far already, but with her to aid him there wereno heights to which he--no, they--might not climb. And she wasbeautiful--beautiful, with a grace, a stateliness and dignity beyondcompare.
Mr. Sefton glanced down the column and saw there a head upon which thebrown hair curled slightly. The eyes were turned away, but the Secretaryknew they were blue and that there was something in the face whichappealed to strong men for protection. He shook his head slowly. Thetricky little god was making sport of him, James Sefton, theinvincible, and he did not like it.
A sense of irritation against Lucia Catherwood rose in Mr. Sefton'smind. As he could not stir her in any obvious manner by speaking ofPrescott, he felt a desire to move her in some way, to show his powerover her, to compel from her an appeal for mercy. It would be a triumphto bring a woman at once so strong and so proud to her knees. He wouldnot proceed to extreme measures, and would halt at the delicate moment,but she must be made to feel that he was master of the situation.
So he spoke again of her return to Richmond, suggesting plans for herpleasant stay while there, mentioning acquaintances of his whom he wouldlike her to know, and making suggestions to which he thought she wouldbe compelled to return answers that would betray more or less herposition in Richmond.
/>
She listened at first with a flush on her face, giving way soon topaleness as her jaw hardened and her lips closed firmly. The perceptionof Lucia Catherwood was not inferior to that of the Secretary, and shetook her resolve.
"Mr. Sefton," she said at length, "I am firmly convinced of one thing."
"And what is that?"
"That you know I am the alleged spy for whom you were so long looking inRichmond."
The Secretary hesitated for an answer. Her sudden frankness surprisedhim. It was so different from his own methods in dealing with othersthat he had not taken it into account.
"Yes, you know it," she continued, "and it may be used against me, notto inflict on me a punishment--that I do not dread--but to injure thecharacter and reputation that a woman loves--things that are to her thebreath of life. But I say that if you choose to use your power you cando so."
The Secretary glanced at her in admiration, the old wonder concerninghimself returning to him.
"Miss Catherwood," he said, "I cannot speak in too high praise of yourcourage. I have never before seen a woman show so much. Your surmise iscorrect. You were the spy or alleged spy, as you prefer to say, for whomI was looking. As for the morality of your act, I do not consider that;it never entered into my calculations; but in going back to Richmond yourealize that you will be wholly in the power of the ConfederateGovernment. Whenever it wants you you will have to come, and in verytruth you will have to walk in the straight and narrow path."
"I am not afraid," she said, with a proud lifting of her head. "I willtake the risks, and if you, Mr. Sefton, for some reason unknown to me,force me to match my wits with yours, I shall do the best I can."
The haughty uplift of her neck and the flash of her eye showed that shethought her "best" would be no mean effort, but this attitude appealedto the Secretary more than a humble submission ever would have done.Here was one with whom it would be a pleasure to make a test of skilland force. Certainly steel would be striking sparks from steel.
"I am not making any threats, Miss Catherwood," he said. "That would beunworthy, I merely wish you to understand the situation. I am a frankman, I trust, and, like most other men, I seek my own advancement; itwould further no interest of mine for me to denounce you at present, andI trust that you will not at any time make it otherwise."
"That is, I am to serve you if you call upon me."
"Let us not put it so bluntly."
"I shall not do anything that I do not wish to do," she said, with theold proud uplift of her head. "And listen! there is something which maysoon shatter all your plans, Mr. Sefton."
She pointed backward, where the purplish clouds hung over theWilderness, whence came the low, sullen mutter, almost as faint as thedistant beat of waves on a coast.
The Secretary smiled deprecatingly.
"After all, you are like other women, Miss Catherwood. You suppose, ofcourse, that I stake my whole fortune upon a single issue, but it isnot so. I wish to live on after the war, whatever its result may be, andthe tide of fortune in that forest may shift and change, but mine maynot shift and change with it."
"You are at least frank."
"The South may lose, but if she loses the world will not end on thataccount. I shall still wish to play my part. Ah, here comes CaptainPrescott."
Prescott liked little this long talk between Lucia and the Secretary andthe deep interest each seemed to show in what the other said. He bore itwith patience for a time, but it seemed to him, though the thought wasnot so framed in his mind, that he had a certain proprietary interest inher because he had saved her at great risk.
The Secretary received him with a pleasant smile, made some slightremark about duty elsewhere and dropped easily away. Prescott waiteduntil he was out of hearing before he said:
"Do you like that man, Miss Catherwood?"
"I do not know. Why?"
"You were in such close and long conversation that you seemed to be oldfriends."
"There were reasons for what we said."
She looked at him so frankly that he was ashamed, but she, recognizinghis tone and the sharpness of it, was not displeased. On the contrary,she felt a warm glow, and the woman in her urged her to go further. Shespoke well of the Secretary, his penetrating foresight and his knowledgeof the world and its people--men, women and children. Prescott listenedin a somewhat sulky mood, and she, regarding him with covert glances,was roused to a singular lightness that she had not known for many days.Then she changed, showing him her softer side, for she could be asfeminine as any other woman, not less so than Helen Harley, and shewould prove it to him. Becoming all sunshine with just enough shadow todeepen the colours, she spoke of a time when the war should havepassed--when the glory of this world with the green of spring and thepink of summer should return. Her moods were so many and so variable,but all so gay, that Prescott began to share her spirits, and althoughthey were retreating from a lost field and the cannon still mutteredbehind them, he forgot the war and remembered only this girl beside him,who walked with such easy grace and saw so bright an outlook.
Thus the retreat continued. The able-bodied soldiers of the brigade weredrafted away, but the women and wounded men went on. Grant never ceasedhis hammer strokes, and it was necessary for the Southern leaders to getrid of all superfluous baggage. Prescott, singularly enough, foundhimself in command of this little column that marched southward, takingthe place of his friend Talbot, lost in a mysterious way to the regretof all.
Mr. Sefton left them the day after his talk with Lucia, and Prescott wasnot sorry to see him go, for some of his uneasiness departed with him.Harley, vain, fretful and complaining, gave much trouble, yielding onlyto the influence of Mrs. Markham, with whom Prescott did not like to seehim, but was helpless in the matter. Helen and Lucia were the mostobedient of soldiers and gave no trouble at all. Helen, a warm partisan,seemed to think little of the great campaign that was going on behindher, and to concern herself more about something else. Yet she was notunhappy--even Prescott could see it--and the bond between her and Luciawas growing strong daily. Usually they were together, and once when Mrs.Markham spoke slightingly of the "Northern woman," as she called Lucia,Helen replied with a sharpness very remarkable for her--a sharpness thatcontributed to the growing coldness between them, which had begun withthe power Mrs. Markham exercised over Helen's brother.
Prescott noticed these things more or less and sometimes they painedhim; but clearly they were outside his province, and in order to givethem no room in his mind he applied himself more diligently than ever tohis duties, his wound now permitting him to do almost a man's work.
They marched slowly and it gave promise of being a long journey. Thedays grew very hot; the sun burned the grass, and over them hung cloudsof steamy vapour. For the sake of the badly wounded who had fever theytraveled often by night and rested by day in the shade. But that cloudof war never left them.
The days passed and distant battles still hung on their skirts. Themutter of the guns was seldom absent, and they yet saw, now and then, onthe horizon, flashes like heat-lightning. One morning there was a rapidbeat of hoofs, a glitter of sabers issuing from a wood, and in a momentthe little convoy was surrounded by a troop of cavalry in blue.
"Only wounded men and women," said their leader, a young colonel with afine, open face. "Bah, we have no time to waste with them!"
He bowed contritely, touching his hat to the ladies and saying that hedid not mean to be ungallant. Then in a moment he and his men were goneat gallop in a cloud of dust, disappearing in a whirlwind across theplain, leaving the little convoy to proceed at its leisure.
Prescott gazed after them, shading his eyes with his hands. "There mustbe some great movement at hand," he said, "or they would have asked usquestions, at least."
The day grew close and sultry. Columns of steamy vapour moved back andforth and enclosed them, and the sun set in a red mist. At night itrained, but early the next morning the mutter of the cannon grew to arumble and then a storm. The hot d
ay came and all the east was filledwith flashes of fire. The crash of the cannon was incessant, and infancy every one in that little convoy heard the tramping of brigades andthe clatter of hoofs as the horsemen rushed on the guns.
"They have met again!" said Lucia.
"Yes," replied Prescott. "It's Grant and Lee. How many great battles isthis since they met first in the Wilderness?"
Nobody could tell; they had lost count.
The tumult lasted about an hour and then died away, to be succeeded by astillness intense and painful. The sun shone with a white glare. No windstirred. The leaves and the grass drooped. The fields were deserted;there was not a sign of life in them, either human or animal. The roadlay before them, a dusty streak.
None came to tell of the battle, and, oppressed by anxiety, Prescottmoved on. Some horsemen appeared on the hills the next morning, and asthey approached, Prescott, with indescribable joy, recognized in thelead the figure of Talbot, whose unknown fate they had mourned. Talbotdelightedly shook hands with them all, not neglecting Lucia Catherwood.His honest face glowed with emotion.
"I am on a scout around our army now," he said, "and I thought I shouldfind you near here somewhere. I wanted to tell you what had become ofme. I was captured that night we were crossing the river--some of myblundering--but I escaped the next night. It was easy enough to do it.There was so much fighting and so much of everything going on that Ijust rose up and walked out of the Yankee camp. Nobody had time to payany attention to me. I got back to Lee--somehow I knew I must do it, ashe could never win the war without me--and here I am."
"There was a battle yesterday morning; we heard it," said Prescott.
Talbot's face clouded and the corners of his mouth drooped.
"We have won a great victory," he said, "but it doesn't pay us. TheYankees lost twelve or fifteen thousand men, but we haven't gainedanything. That firing you heard was at Cold Harbour. It was a greatbattle, an awful one. I hope to God I shall never see its like again. Isaw fifteen thousand men stretched out on the bloody ground in rows. Idon't believe that so many men ever before fell in so short a time. Ihave heard of a whirlwind of death, but I never saw one till then.
"We had gone into intrenchments and Grant moved against us with hiswhole army. They came on; you could hear 'em, the tramp of regimentsand brigades, scores of thousands, and the sun rising up and turning togold over their heads. Our cannon began. What a crash! It was liketwenty thunderbolts all at once. We swept that field with tons and tonsof metal. Then our rifles opened and the whistling of the bullets waslike the screaming of a wind on a plain. You could see the men of thatarmy shoot up into the air before such a sheet of metal, and you heardthe cracking of bones like the breaking up of ice. After awhile thosethat lived had to turn back; human beings could not stand more, and wewere glad when it was all over."
Talbot stayed a little while with them. Then he and his men, like theNorthern cavalry, whirled off in a cloud of dust, and the little convoyresumed its solemn march southward, reaching Richmond in safety.