CHAPTER XLV
ELLEN
Our forces passed up the valley of Virginia and rolled through the oldRockfish Gap--where once the Knights of the Golden Horn paused and tookpossession, in the name of King Charles, of all the land thence to theSouth Sea. We overspread all the Piedmont Valley and passed down to theold town of Charlottesville. It was nearly deserted now. The gaySouthern boys who in the past rode there with their negro servants, andset at naught good Thomas Jefferson's intent of simplicity in the narrowlittle chambers of the old University of Virginia, now were gone withtheir horses and their servants. To-day you may see their names inbronze on the tablets at the University doors.
I quartered my men about the quiet old place, and myself hunted up anoffice-room on one of the rambling streets that wandered beneath thetrees. I was well toward the finish of my morning's work when I heardthe voice of my sentry challenge, and caught an answering word ofindignation in a woman's voice. I stepped to the door.
A low, single-seated cart was halted near the curb, and one of itsoccupants was apparently much angered. I saw heir clutch the long brownrifle barrel which extended out at the rear over the top of the seat."You git out'n the road, man," repeated she, "or I'll take a shot at youfor luck! We done come this fur, and I reckon we c'n go the rest theway."
That could be no one but old Mandy McGovern! For the sake of amusement Ishould have left her to make her own argument with the guard, had I notin the same glance caught sight of her companion, a trim figure in closefitting corduroy of golden brown, a wide hat of russet straw shading herface, wide gauntlet gloves drawn over her little hands.
Women were not usual within the Army lines. Women such as this were notusual anywhere. It was Ellen!
Her face went rosy red as I hastened to the side of the cart and putdown Mandy's arm. She stammered, unable to speak more connectedly than Imyself. Mandy could not forget her anger, and insisted that she wantedto see the "boss."
"I am the Colonel in command right here, Aunt Mandy," I said. "Won't Ido?"
"You a kunnel?" she retorted. "Looks to me like kunnels is mighty easymade if you'll do. No, we're atter Ginral Meriwether, who's comin' hereto be the real boss of all you folks. Say, man, you taken away my manand my boy. Where they at?"
"With me here," I was glad to answer, "safe, and somewhere not far away.The boy is wounded, but his arm is nearly well."
"Ain't got his bellyful o' fightin' yit?"
"No, both he and Auberry seem to be just beginning."
"Humph! Reackon they're happy, then. If a man's gettin' three squares aday and plenty o' fightin', don't see whut more he kin ask."
"Corporal," I called to my sentry, who was now pacing back and forthbefore the door, hiding his mouth behind his hand, "put this woman underarrest, and hold her until I return. She's looking for privates Auberryand McGovern, G Company, First Virginia Volunteers. Keep her in myoffice while they're sent for. Bring me my bag from the table."
It was really a pretty fight, that between Mandy and the corporal. Thelatter was obliged to call out the guard for aid. "Sick 'em, Pete!"cried Mandy, when she found her arms pinioned; and at once there dartedout from under the cart a hairy little demon of a dog, mute, mongrelish,pink-eared, which began silent havoc with the corporal's legs.
I looked again at that dog. I was ready to take it in my arms and cryout that it was my friend! It was the little Indian dog that Ellen and Ihad tamed! Why, then, had she kept it, why had she brought it home withher? I doubt which way the contest would have gone, had not Mandy seenme climb into her vacated seat and take up the reins. "Pete" thenstolidly took up his place under the cart.
We turned and drove back up the shady street, Ellen and I. I saw herfingers twisting together in her lap, but as yet she had not spoken. Theflush on her cheek was deeper now. She beat her hands together softly,confused, half frightened; but she did not beg me to leave her.
"If you could get away," she began at last, "I would ask you to drive meback home. Aunt Mandy and I are living there together. Kitty Stevenson'svisiting me--you'll--you'll want to call on Kitty. My father has been inEast Kentucky, but I understand he's ordered here this week. MajorStevenson is with him. We thought we might get word, and so came onthrough the lines."
"You had no right to do so. The pickets should have stopped you," Isaid. "At the same time, I am very glad they didn't."
"So you are a Colonel," she said after a time, with an Army girl's nicereading of insignia.
"Yes," I answered, "I am an officer. Now if I could only be agentleman!"
"Don't!" she whispered. "Don't talk in that way, please."
"Do you think I could be?"
"I think you have been," she whispered, all her face rosy now.
We were now near the line of our own pickets on this edge of the town.Making myself known, I passed through and drove out into the countryroads, along the edge of the hills, now glorious in their autumn hues.It was a scene fair as Paradise to me. Presently Ellen pointed to amansion house on a far off hill--such a house as can be found nowhere inAmerica but in this very valley; an old family seat, lying, reserved andfull of dignity, at a hilltop shielded with great oaks. I bethought meagain of the cities of peace I had seen on the far horizons of anotherland than this.
"That is our home," she said. "We have not often been here sincegrandfather died, and then my mother. But this is the place that weMeriwethers all call home."
Then I saw again what appeal the profession of arms makes to a man--howstrong is its fascination. It had taken the master of a home like thisfrom a life like this, and plunged him into the hardships and dangers offrontier war, again into the still more difficult and dangerousconflicts between great armies. Not for months, for years, had he setfoot on his own sod--sod like ours in Loudoun, never broken by a plow.
As we approached the gate I heard behind us the sound of gallopinghorses. There came up the road a mounted officer, with his personalescort, an orderly, several troopers, and a grinning body servant.
"Look--there he comes--it is my father!" exclaimed Ellen; and in amoment she was out of the cart and running down the road to meet him,taking his hand, resting her cheek against his dusty thigh, as he sat insaddle.
The officer saluted me sharply. "You are outside the lines," said he."Have you leave?"
I saluted also, and caught the twinkle in his eye as I looked into hisface.
"On detached service this morning, General," I said. "If you please, Ishall report to you within the hour."
He wheeled his horse and spurred on up along his own grounds, fit masterfor their stateliness. But he entered, leaving the gate wide open for usto pass.
"Shut the gate, Benjie," said Ellen as I tossed down a coin to thegrinning black. And then to me, "You don't know Benjie? Yes, he'smarried again to Kitty's old cook, Annie. They're both here."
An orderly took our horse when finally we drove up; but at the time Idid not go into the house. I did not ask for Mrs. Kitty Stevenson. Awide seat lay beneath one of the oaks. We wandered thither, Ellen and I.The little dog, mute, watchful, kept close at her side.
"Ellen," said I to her, "the time has come now. I am not going to waitany longer. Read this." I put into her hand Gordon Orme's confession.
She read, with horror starting on her face. "What a scoundrel--what acriminal!" she said. "The man was a demon. He killed your father!"
"Yes, and in turn I killed him," I said, slowly. Her eyes flashed. Shewas savage again, as I had seen her. My soul leaped out to see herfierce, relentless, exulting that I had fought and won, careless that Ihad slain.
"Orme did all he could to ruin me in every way," I added. "Read on."Then I saw her face change to pity as she came to the next clause. Sonow she knew the truth about Grace Sheraton, and, I hoped, the truthabout John Cowles.
"Can you forgive me?" she said, brokenly, her dark eyes swimming intears, as she turned toward me.
"That is not the question," I answered, slowly. "It is, can _you_forgive _me_?" Her h
and fell on my arm imploringly.
"I have no doubt that I was much to blame for that poor girl's act," Icontinued. "The question only is, has my punishment been enough, or canit be enough? Do you forgive me? We all make mistakes. Am I good enoughfor you, Ellen? answer me."
But she would not yet answer. So I went on.
"I killed Gordon Orme myself, in fair fight; but he wrote this of hisown free will. He himself told me it would be proof. Is it proof?"
She put the paper gently to one side of her on the long seat. "I do notneed it," she said. "If it came to question of proof, we have learnedmuch of these matters, my father and I, since we last met you. But Ihave never needed it; not even that night we said good-by. Ah! how Iwanted you back after you had gone!"
"And your father?" I asked of her, my hand falling on hers.
"He knows as much as I. Lately he has heard from your friend, DoctorBond--we have both learned a great many things. We are sorry. I amsorry. I have _always_ been sorry."
"But what more?" I asked. "Ellen!"
She put out her hands in a sort of terror. "Don't," she said. "I haveput all this away for so long that now--I can't begin again. I can't! Ican't! I am afraid. Do not ask me. Do not. No--no!"
She started from the seat as though she would have fled in a swiftpanic. But now I caught her.
"Stop!" I exclaimed, rage in all my heart. "I've been a fool longenough, and now I will have no more of foolishness. I will try no moreto figure niceties. I'll not try to understand a woman. But gentleman ornot, I swear by God! if we were alone again, we two, out there--then I'dnot use you the same the second time whatever you said, or asked, orpleaded, or argued, I would not listen--not a word would I listento--you should do as I said, as I desired. And I say now you _must_, you_shall_!"
Anger may have been in my face--I do not know. I crushed her back intothe seat.
And she--Ellen--the girl I had seen and loved in the desert silences?
She sank back against the rail with a little sigh as of content, alittle smile as of a child caught in mischief and barred from escape.Oh, though I lived a thousand years, never would I say I understood awoman!
"Now we will end all this," I said, frowning. I caught her by the armand led her to the gallery, where I picked up the bag I had left at thedriveway. I myself rang at the door, not allowing her to lead me in. Theorderly came.
"My compliments to General Meriwether," I said, "and Colonel Cowleswould like to speak with him."
He came, that tall man, master of the mansion, dusty with his travel,stern of face, maned like a gray bear of the hills; but he smiled andreached out his hand. "Come in, sir," he said. And now we entered.
"It seems you have brought back my girl again. I hope my welcome will bewarmer than it was at Laramie!" He looked at us, from one to the other,the brown skin about his keen eyes wrinkling.
"I have certain things to say, General," I began. We were walking intothe hall. As soon as I might, I handed to him the confession of GordonOrme. He read it with shut lips.
"Part of this I knew already," he said, finally, "but not this as toyour father. You have my sympathy--and, sir, my congratulations on youraccounting for such a fiend. There, at least, justice has been served."He hesitated before continuing.
"As to some details, I regret that my daughter has been brought intosuch matters," he said, slowly. "I regret also that I have made manyother matters worse; but I am very glad that they have now been madeplain. Dr. Samuel Bond, of Wallingford, your father's friend, hascleared up much of all this. I infer that he has advised you of thecondition of our joint business matters?"
"Our estate is in your debt General," I said, "but I can now adjustthat. We shall pay our share. After that, the lands shall be divided, orheld jointly as yourself shall say."
"Why could they not remain as they are?" He smiled at me. "Let me hopeso."
I turned to Ellen. "Please," I said, "bring me the other half of this."
I flung open my bag and spread upon the nearest table my half of therecord of our covenant, done, as it had seemed to me, long years ago.Colonel Meriwether and I bent over the half rigid parchment. I saw thatEllen had gone; but presently she came again, hesitating, flushing red,and put into my hands the other half of our indenture. She carried Pete,the little dog, under her arm, his legs projecting stiffly; and now awail of protest broke from Pete, squeezed too tightly in her unconsciousclasp.
I placed the pieces edge to edge upon the table. The old familiar wordslooked up at me again, solemnly. Again I felt my heart choke my throatas I read: "_I, John Cowles--I, Ellen Meriwether--take thee--takethee--until death do us part_."
I handed her a pencil. She wrote slowly, freakishly, having her maidenwill; and it seemed to me still a week to a letter as she signed. But atlast her name stood in full--_E-l-l-e-n M-e-r-i-w-e-t-h-e-r_.
"General," I said, "this indenture witnesseth! We two are bound by it.We have 'consented together in holy wedlock.' We have 'witnessed thesame before God.' We have 'pledged our faith, either to other.'"
He dashed his hand across his eyes; then, with a swift motion, he placedour hands together. "My boy," said he, "I've always wanted my girl to betaken by an Army man--an officer and a gentleman. Damn it, sir! I begyour pardon, Ellen--give me that pencil. I'll sign my own name--I'llwitness this myself! There's a regimental chaplain with our command--ifwe can't find a preacher left in Charlottesville."
"Orderly!" I called, with a gesture asking permission of my superior.
"Yes, orderly," he finished for me, "get ready to ride to town. We havean errand there." He turned to us and motioned us as though toownership, bowing with grave courtesy as he himself left the room. Iheard the chatter of Mrs. Kitty greet him. I was conscious of a grinningblack face peering in at a window--Annie, perhaps. They all loved Ellen.
But Ellen and I, as though by instinct, stepped toward the open door, sothat we might again see the mountain tops.
I admit I kissed her!
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