Chapter XIII: The Alarm

What’s the business
That such a hideous trumpet calls to parley
The dwellers in the house?—SHAKESPEARE.

The foe!—they come! they come!—BYRON.

Elfie slept long and deeply. In the wild guerrilla camp something like military discipline was kept up, and at four o’clock the reveillé was beat; but even the sound of the rolling drum close under her windows failed to arouse this tired young sleeper.

Alberta arose, pale, weary and shivering, in the chilly dawn of the autumn morning.

She opened one of the windows, letting in the faint light of day, and the weight of a heavy dampness.

The storm had passed, the sky was clear, and the air was still; but the ground was strewn thickly with fallen leaves, the trees were bared and broken, and the rain drops hung glittering upon all.

Through the obscurity she could see the huts of the men with their dim fires hastily kindled to cook their breakfasts.

After fastening back the shutters, she let down the window and turned to set the room in order. She drew the chunks of fire together and put on more wood from a pile that lay handy in the chimney corner. Then she filled a kettle from a pail of water in the cupboard, and hung it over the blazing fire.

While thus employed she heard a low rapping at her door, and she went to see who was there.

It was her husband; and he met her as if he had been parted from her for a year.

“May I come in?” at length he said.

“No, dear Vittorio, for our visitor still sleeps. When she is up and is dressed, then you may,” she answered.

“Heaven knows I bear our fair guest no malice; yet I wish Satan had her rather than she should be here dividing us whom nothing else has ever parted,” complained Corsoni.

“So does she, I think!” replied Alberta, with a shrug.

“I am going now. What can I do for you?”

“Send Gill for orders.”

Vittorio kissed her suddenly and hurried away.

Alberta went on with her preparations for breakfast. She cut slices from a stale loaf of bread and set them down before the fire to toast. And then she sat down to wait for two events—the appearance of Gill and the awakening of Elfie. She had to wait some time before either event occurred.

Then came another rap at the door. She got up and opened it, inquiring:

“Is it you, Gill?”

“No, Madam, it is Haddycraff,” answered a voice.

“Haddycraff! Why, where is Gill?” inquired Alberta.

“Can’t be found, Madam, anywhere in the camp. Seems he hasn’t been seen since the height of the storm last night. The men think he has deserted, and that he is no better than a Yankee spy!”

“Is that possible?” exclaimed the guerrilla’s wife, in amazement.

“It is certain that he has gone, madam, and it is likely he was a spy!”

“That boy—that mere child! Why, he didn’t look to be more than sixteen years old!”

“Madam, some of the men say _now_ that they don’t believe he was a boy at all, but a woman in disguise.”

“Nonsense! What absurd notions they take in their heads.”

“It is only some of them, ma’am. There are others that think he is one of Rosenthal’s men. Now that his disappearance has set people to thinking and talking, there is one says he is the image of an orderly he saw with Major Rosenthal.”

“Yes; doubtless every one of you will have a reminiscence, or a suspicion, or an inspiration regarding the poor lad! What does your colonel say?”

“He says nothing; he acts. He has sent out men in pursuit of the boy, with orders to bring him back, dead or alive!”

“Oh, Heavens! when will these horrors cease!” groaned Alberta, wringing her hands.

“The colonel sent me here to take my orders from you, madam,” said the man, suggestively.

“Yes, yes, yes,” answered Alberta, absently, passing her hand to and fro over her forehead.

“Can’t I do anything for you, madam?” inquired Haddycraff, after a few minutes of silence and inactivity.

“Yes!——Oh, I am so sorry to hear what you told me about that poor boy——Yes, I want something additional prepared for our guest’s breakfast.—I do not believe that he is a spy!——Anything will do. Dress a chicken, or a partridge, or anything you may have handy, and bring it in.——He was weary of the hardships of his life, and wanted to go home. Deserter he may be, but spy never! What do you think, Haddycraff?”

“I think, ma’am, as he has only been with us five days he hasn’t had time to get tired of us; and we can none of us account for his sudden disappearance upon any other ground than that of his having been a spy. However, if the boys find him and bring him in alive, we shall get to the bottom of the mystery; for you know how the colonel can sift a spy first and hang him afterwards.”

“Heaven of Heavens, yes!”

“Anything else, ma’am, if you please?”

“Yes——Poor boy! can it be possible?—You may bring me a table and a clean table cloth. Bring them to the door and rap. I will take them in.”

“That is all, ma’am?”

“Yes—go.”

The man left the door, but the guerrilla’s wife stood like one in a maze.

“Poor, poor lad,” she murmured. “He will have not the slightest chance of escape. They will hunt him with that pair of Siberian bloodhounds, I suppose. Yet if he _is_ a spy, I shall rejoice at his being taken; for if it were possible for him to escape, he might—yes, he might betray Corsoni to death. Yes, I shall rejoice when he is taken! Yet I will plead for his life as I never pleaded for a life before!”

She was interrupted by the arrival of the table at the door, and she went and took it in, laid the cloth, and arranged the camp breakfast service on it.

In the midst of her work she was disturbed by a slight noise behind her. Turning round, she saw Elfie sitting up in bed, with her hands clasping her temples, her black hair flying loose, and her eyes staring around in bewilderment.

Alberta put down the knives and forks that were in her hand, and went to the side of her guest.

“You slept well, Elfie. You never even stirred during the night. I hope you feel better this morning,” said Alberta.

“Yes; I slept so soundly that when I opened my eyes I couldn’t remember what had happened to me, or where I was. It seemed to me that I was still dreaming, or that I had been transferred here by magic. Ah, the villain! Won’t I make him pay for it!”

“Of whom do you speak, Elfie?”

“Guerrilla Goldsborough, the girl-stealer. I will make him wish that he himself had been carried off by Satan, rather than carried off me!”

“I am glad to see you in such good spirits, Elfie.”

“Yes, last night I was jaded to death with fatigue. After the good night’s rest I feel revived. The new day has brought new strength and resolution. And before it is over, I shall have persuaded Colonel Corsoni to send me across the lines.”

“My poor girl, I hope you may succeed in doing so”, said Alberta, gravely.

“I know I shall. For whatever else the Free Sword may be, he is a gentleman. And none but a caitiff would keep a girl a prisoner against her will to please anybody,” said Elfie, confidently.

“I do think, if my dear Vittorio suspected that you are really and truly here against your will, he would do everything in his power to restore you to your friends. But you see, Elfie, he knew of the attachment existing between you and Albert, and he cannot understand your reluctance to remain with him. He judges all women by his own wife, who left all to follow him and share his fate.”

“Then he _shall_ understand me. He shall know that I am loyal and free. He shall judge me by myself alone. And when he does this, as a gentleman and a soldier, he will restore me to my friends,” said Elfie, positively.

“In what manner?”

“He can send me under a flag of truce to the nearest Federal fort.”

“Ah, dear Elfie, would the flag of truce from a guerrilla chief be respected by your Federal officers? Would that of Corsoni—of all others, of Corsoni—an outlaw with a price on his head? What are you thinking of, my poor child?” said Alberta.

“I am sorry Vittorio is outlawed. Sorrier still that he ever did anything to place himself in such a dreadful position. But let whoever may be outlawed or inlawed, I am resolved to be in the Federal lines before night,” said Elfie, throwing the cover off her, preparatory to rising.

As she did so, she noticed the large printed U. S. on the head of the blanket. While she was staring at it, Alberta laughed and said:

“Yes, that is a Yankee blanket. Why, my child, the Yankee manufacturers work for us now, just as they did before the war, only now we don’t pay them for it. Why, Elfie, if it were not for dashing and successful raids upon Yankee encampments, our soldiers would go into battle as bare-backed as the Berserkers of old.”

Elfie stepped down upon the floor and began to make her toilet, while Alberta carefully spread up the bed and opened the window behind it.

“It is not what either of us were brought up to, Elfie, this breakfasting in our bed-room; but I have endured much greater hardships than this.”

Elfie shrugged her shoulders in silence, and went on dressing.

And by the time she was ready for breakfast, breakfast was ready for her.

Haddycraff came to the door and rapped, and Alberta went and received from him a large dish of fried chicken and a pitcher of milk, which was all that was wanted to complete the preparations for the morning meal.

Alberta set them on the table and then put up the teapot and the plate of toast.

“We have no butter to-day, Elfie, but Abershaw has got a dairyman, and with all these cows, I dare say we shall have some for to-morrow,” said Alberta.

“To-morrow. I hope a great many things will happen before to-morrow,” said Elfie.

And they both sat down to the table.

Alberta poured out a cup of tea, and set it before her guest and said:

“Try some of that fried chicken, Elfie. Haddycraff is a very good cook.”

“And I suppose some Union farmer’s hen-roost has been robbed to supply his larder,” replied Elfie rather ungratefully, as she stuck her broken fork into the crisply fried breast of chicken, and transferred it to her cracked plate.

“Of course; how else should we be fed?” laughed Alberta.

Elfie had a healthy young appetite, and notwithstanding her captivity and her conscience, she made a hearty meal.

Not so did Alberta. Every movement and expression of this unhappy woman betrayed the anxious and habitual vigilance of the fighting and flying guerrilla life. Forgetting her companion, she would turn her head and stare through the open window, straining her eyes to see what might be going on at a distant point of the encampment in the line of her vision, or else holding her cup of tea suspended between her saucer and her lips, while she listened to the sounds outside the house.

“For goodness sake, Alberta, make a breakfast. You have scarcely eaten a morsel of food or drank a drop of tea. What ails you? What are you watching and listening for? You cannot fear an attack from the Union troops this morning. You said yourself the river would be too high for days to admit of their crossing,” said Elfie, impatiently.

“It is not of them I am thinking,” answered Alberta, making an effort to sip her tea.

“Of what then? I declare you look like a fugitive from justice fearing an arrest. Something ails you.”

“Something _always_ does. Elfie, did you notice the boy that waited on us at supper last night?”

“I saw a boy, bringing in kettles and things, and I heard you call him Gill, or something. I never noticed him particularly. Why should I, little cockatrice of a brigand!” snapped Elfie.

“He was very well worth looking at. A pretty boy, about sixteen years of age, with the blackest hair and rosiest cheeks I ever saw in a lad. He sought refuge with the Free Sword about a week ago. He told a sad tale—oh, it was a very common one—of how his home had been sacked and burned and his father and brother killed and himself taken prisoner by the Yankees; and how at last he had made his escape and reached our encampment.”

“Young scamp! better he had been sent to join his father and brother than lived to become a guerrilla.”

“Upon my word, Elfie, you are not very polite to me—all things considered,” said Alberta.

“I have no right to be—‘all things considered,’” retorted Elfie.

“I do the best I can for you, under the circumstances.”

“And I behave as well as I can, ‘under the circumstances.’”

“Of what do you complain?”

“That I am kept here against my will.”

“Not by me. But let us return to our mutton. This boy, Elfie. Too delicate for rough military work, the colonel placed him about me as a sort of page. I declare in five days the gentle boy quite won my heart. But now——”

—“How would the Free Sword like the idea of the pretty page winning his lady’s heart?” jeered Elfie, maliciously.

“Girl! I am deeply and thoroughly ashamed of you! My interest in the lonely boy is sisterly, motherly—what you will. And Colonel Corsoni knows that the woman who gladly gave up earth and heaven for _his_ love, is his own soul and body for time and eternity. He knows that I am fond of the boy; but he knows also that I would cast that boy into a burning fire if it were to please _him_—Corsoni!”

“Well, but what about the blessed boy. Is it he that you are watching and listening for?”

“Yes, yes, yes! He has disappeared. The men say that he was a spy. Some say that he is no boy, but a disguised girl. Others deny that and pretend to recognize him, now that it is too late, as an orderly whom they had seen in attendance upon Major Rosenthal.”

“Whe-ew!” exclaimed Elfie under her breath, as a light broke slowly over her face.

“Now Colonel Corsoni has sent out men in pursuit of the boy. If he really was a spy, and succeeds in effecting his escape, he will make for the nearest fort in the lines forming the Southern Defences of Washington, which are on this side of the river, you know; and he will betray the retreat of the Free Sword and bring the enemy upon us probably before we can escape.”

“Lord grant he may!” muttered Elfie between her teeth.

“And on the other hand, if he should be re-captured, he will certainly be doomed to death, for the Free Sword never yet spared a spy. Every way I look the prospect is full of horror. It is for our returning scouts with their prisoner that I listen so anxiously.”

“You say that Colonel Corsoni never yet spared a spy.”

“Never.”

“He will spare this one,” said Elfie, positively.

“How do you know that?” demanded Alberta sharply.

“By reasons.”

“What reasons?”

“I cannot tell you. That is, I do not feel at liberty to do so.”

“HARK!”

“What is the matter?”

“They are coming!” exclaimed Alberta.

And at this moment the galloping of horses was heard, followed by the sound of many eager voices and the trampling of many hasty feet.

The next instant the door was thrown open by the guerrilla Mutchison, who stalked into the room.

The two young women started up in alarm.

“What is the matter?” demanded Alberta.

“Madam!” exclaimed Mutchison, speaking in haste and trepidation, “the boy Gill has betrayed us! The scouts who went out in search of him have returned and report a body of the enemy’s cavalry near!”

And without another word he pounced upon Elfie, lifted and threw her over his shoulder and bore her, screaming and struggling from the room.

Alberta started forward to stop him, but before she had gone two paces she met Colonel Corsoni, who came hurrying towards her.

He was armed and equipped for his ride, and he carried in his hand the black hat and feather fastened by the flaming carbuncle button.

“Alberta, dearest—quick! Your horse is ready and waiting beside my own!” he exclaimed. And he seized up her dark hooded cloak and with his own hands wrapped it about her form.

“It is true then! The enemy is upon us!” she cried.

“Two companies of cavalry armed with their accursed Henry rifles! sixteen shooters, that they may load up on a Sunday and fire off all the week! What can my ninety almost unarmed men do against such a force?”

“Oh! fly! fly, Vittorio! And here! take that burning carbuncle from your hat! You are known by it. And its rays shoot so far in the sunlight.”

“I would almost as willingly be captured as remove the gem, _your_ gift, Alberta! placed, where it shines, by your hand!”

“Then my hand will remove it again!” said Corsoni’s wife, hastily unfastening the fiery stone and concealing it in her bosom.