Chapter XX: The Whisper

He speaketh low, he speaketh calm,
“Ride fast, my master, ride,
Or e’er within the broadening dark
The narrow shadows hide,
Ere night I shall be near to thee—
Now ride, my master, ride—
Ere night, as parted spirits cleave
To mortals too beloved to leave,
I shall be by thy side!”—E. B. BROWNING.

“Yes, Colonel Rosenthal, I shall have to hang you in about an hour from this.”

Having pronounced this dreadful sentence in the coolest manner, Monck tossed off his tumbler of brandy, and then looked up to see what effect the words had had upon his intended victim.

Colonel Rosenthal’s countenance was not changed in the slightest degree. He was still sitting back in his chair, contemplating Monck with that expression of mingled curiosity and perplexity with which he had hitherto listened to the guerrilla chieftain’s strange discourse.

It was now Monck’s turn to stare with astonishment at his prisoner.

“Well, I’m dashed! if ever I saw a fellow receive a sentence of death so coolly in all my life! Thunder, man, did you hear what I said to you? I have just told you that I shall have to hang you in about an hour!” exclaimed the chieftain.

“I heard you, Major Monck,” coldly and haughtily replied the captive.

“You did, eh? Well, upon my word, you take things coolly for a young one. What do you think of it? What have you got to say?”

“Certainly I cannot think you speak seriously, Major Monck, and I must say that your jest is a very coarse and brutal one, not even to be excused upon the plea of intoxication,” said Colonel Rosenthal, in strong disgust.

“I’m blasted if I ever was more serious or more sober in my life! It’s a very serious and sober business, let me tell you, and a blamed disagreeable one into the bargain especially at night, when the rites have to be solemnized by torchlight. We _might_ wait until the moon rises, only we shall be obliged to get away from here under cover of the darkness, and we must execute you before we move. A devil of a bore! I had no idea, when I invited you to dine with me, that I should have to finish up the evening’s entertainment by hanging you. But you see how it is. Fortune of war. Fortune of war.”

“Major Monck, I must request you, if you please, to desist from this brutal style of jesting, which is certainly as degrading to you as it is insulting to me,” said Colonel Rosenthal with calm dignity.

“Jesting, _jesting_, say you! Dashed if I ever felt less like jesting in my life! blazes, man, don’t you see that I’m in blood earnest? But come, light another cigar. Here’s a good one; try it—do. We have plenty of time; let’s see,” said Monck, pushing a fine cigar towards his prisoner, and taking out his watch to consult it—“Oh, yes, plenty of time to smoke another cigar apiece. Let us make ourselves comfortable. It is now only five minutes past eight, and we needn’t hang you until nine; that will give us an hour to finish up your job neatly, and then get away under cover of the darkness, before the moon rises at ten. Come, light your weed, and let’s enjoy each other’s company while we can.”

“Major Monck, if you will persist in this offensive style of joke, I, as a prisoner, have no power to prevent you. So pray proceed until you become tired. And don’t on any account cease for my sake, as I shall not give myself the trouble to listen to you,” said Justin, drawing a paper from his pocket and beginning to read.

“Joke! Heaven and earth, man! can’t you see that this is no joke! Here you are within—” Monck again referred to his watch and then continued—“within fifty minutes of your execution, and you persist in calling it a joke!”

Justin Rosenthal was assuredly a brave man. He had frequently faced death fearlessly even in its most fearful forms. But now, as a conviction of Monck’s real meaning forced itself upon his soul, he shuddered in spite of himself and grew a shade paler.

“Major Monck,” he said, gravely, “you will not dare to carry out your design! You will not dare to commit this cold-blooded murder!”

“I should like to know what it is that I would not dare to do! But this is no cold-blooded murder, Colonel Rosenthal. For reasons that appear good to me I condemn a prisoner to death and order his execution. A dashed disagreeable duty, as I said before—especially when it has to be done upon a man one has been dining with. I had no thought of winding up our social evening in this way. But you heard the row outside?”

“I heard it,” curtly replied Justin.

“Well, it was about you.”

“Me!”

“Yes. You see a party of my poor fellows went out yesterday to intercept some Yankee commissary stores that were on their way across the valley. But my poor boys were themselves intercepted by a squadron of Yankee cavalry that came from W. to look after them. There was an engagement, and my men were routed with considerable loss. Some were taken prisoners; and some were hung up to the roadside trees to dry in the sun. Those who escaped by flight rushed into the camp in great haste and disorder this evening.”

“Thank Heaven!” exclaimed Justin.

“Exactly; but you see this thing works two ways. For instance, when they learned we had a Yankee colonel here as a prisoner—you heard the row they raised?—they called for your life in retaliation of their murdered comrades. I could not in common justice refuse them so reasonable a request. And so, Colonel Rosenthal,” said Monck, once more coolly consulting his watch, “as it is now half-past eight o’clock, you have ‘just thirty minutes to live.’”

“Oh, Heaven!” groaned Justin, dropping his head upon his hands and thinking of his young sister in her desolate orphanage, and of another still dearer than that sister, and realizing how the news of his dreadful doom would break those loving hearts.

“Come, come, man alive!” exclaimed Monck, heartily, “don’t be cast down because you are going to be strung up! Fortune of war, you know; and it may be my fate to-morrow if I fall into the hands of the clock peddlers! Come, drink your brandy—it will set you up. And here: take something substantial with it,” he added, rising from his place and going to the side-table to bring a plate of biscuits.

At that moment Justin felt a light hand laid upon his head. He looked up and saw Wing standing beside him. The boy was deadly pale, but perfectly calm.

“Listen, my Colonel,” he whispered: “there is one chance left to you for life. You know that we have heard of Monck,—how he——”

The remainder of the sentence was breathed into the ear of Justin Rosenthal, whose countenance immediately cleared up.

“You have saved me again, Wing! But you—you, my boy?” he exclaimed, in a low tone.

“Oh, leave me to myself and to God! I shall be safe—I am always safe! Oh, believe it! believe it when I swear it to you. Hush! that monster is coming back!” said Wing, retreating to the door.

In fact, at that moment Monck did return, bringing in one hand a plate of biscuits, and in the other a plate of cheese, which he set before his prisoner, saying:

“Come! ‘let us eat, drink, and be merry, for to-morrow we die;’ or, rather, to-night, at least, you do!”

“All right!” exclaimed Justin, laughing. “A soldier must be ready to meet death at any moment and in any manner. Your health, Major Monck!” he added, pouring a little brandy into his glass.

“That’s your sort! That’s the way I like to see a man meet the King of Terrors! Come—I will pledge you in this glass, and then I suppose we must go out and begin the ceremonies. Thunder! how time flies! It is actually a quarter to nine. We must make haste,” said Monck, filling his glass and approaching to touch the glass that Justin held towards him.

As the glasses clinked, the eyes of the two men met, and Justin, with a peculiar gesture, too slight to be noticed by an ordinary observer, raised his to his lips, and then set it down.

The glass of Monck nearly fell from his hand. He stared steadily at his prisoner for a full minute and then demanded:

“What was that for? Was that an accident or not?”

“What, an accident?” inquired Justin, innocently.

“_That—that!_ Are you—But nonsense! I suppose it _was_ an accident. Come, Colonel Rosenthal! ten minutes to nine, and we have got to go out. Come! it will be all over in a few minutes. What I do is not done in malice, and I hope you will bear no malice towards me,” said Monck, rising from the table.

“None whatever. In pledge of which, before we leave the board, let us shake hands,” said Justin, rising, and offering his hand to the guerrilla.

“Quite right!” exclaimed Monck, heartily, clapping his fat hand into the extended palm of Justin, who gave it a peculiar grip and shake.

Suddenly Monck sank down into his seat as if he had been shot.

“Then it _wasn’t_ an accident!” he exclaimed, staring at his intended victim.

“No.”

“And you are—”

“Yes.”

“Then I’m dashed if I can hang you! And a devil of a dilemma it places me in!” muttered the guerrilla chieftain, placing his great hands upon his knees, and dropping his head upon his breast in deep thought.

Justin resumed his seat, and sat as calmly as if he had been at his own table, for he felt that he was now as safe as if he had been in his own camp.

“And time is flying! And presently some of the men who were charged with the preparations for the execution will be at the door, to tell me that all is ready, and to ask for the prisoner! And in their present state of excitement, the rascals—the mutinous rascals—would take you out and hang you whether I like it or don’t like it; a devil of a dilemma! I had better get you off from here as quietly as possible—eh, Colonel Rosenthal?”

“As you like. It is your affair,” said Justin, coolly.

Monck scratched his head, repeating at intervals:

“A devil of a dilemma!”

Then he got up and went to the door and spoke to the sentinel on duty there, saying:

“Rushley, pass the word for Captain Bannister to come here.”

Then he began to walk uneasily up and down the floor.

In a very few minutes Captain Bannister came in, wearing a grave and anxious expression of countenance.

Monck met him near the door, drew his arm within his own, and walked him off towards one of windows; but not until Justin had heard Bannister say, in a low voice:

“Nothing has occurred since my connection with this band that has so seriously distressed me as the doom of this gentleman. Major Monck, if it be possible, save him! His execution would cover us with obloquy.”

“That is just what I sent for you to consult about,” answered Monck, as they both passed, arm in arm, out of Justin’s hearing.

They stood within the recess of the window, conversing in a low tone, for some ten or fifteen minutes, at the end of which Monck nodded his head and approached the table. He took writing materials from the drawer, sat down and hastily scratched off a few lines on a slip of paper, which he handed to Captain Bannister, saying:

“You will leave this room by the back door, which will take you into the back yard. Go then through the garden and orchard, and around by the old field, and so make a circuit to the ferry. In that way you will escape showing your prisoner to the disaffected men who have come in from that luckless expedition. As for the other men, it does not matter, as they are not nearly so blood-thirsty! The devil is in it that I should have to pass a prisoner out of camp in this surreptitious way. No matter. Wait until we join our forces with that of Goldsborough and the Free Sword, and we will see whether better discipline cannot be maintained among these wild colts.”

Captain Bannister received the written paper with a bow and then turned towards Justin.

“Colonel Rosenthal,” said Monck, “I place you in the hands of Captain Bannister, who will see you safely beyond our lines.”

Justin bowed grimly, and then inquired:

“My two orderlies?”

“Their lives will be safe. We don’t hang children! We shall hold them prisoners until they are exchanged. And now, for Heaven’s sake, be off with yourself, and leave me to settle with those howling furies outside.”

Thus urged, Justin followed Captain Bannister, who conducted him through the back door into a back yard, where they mounted two horses that stood ready saddled and bridled; and thence they rode through the garden and the orchard, and round where the edge of the woods skirted the old field, and by that covered path to the ferry, where they were challenged by the sentinel on duty.

Bannister gave the countersign, and passed with his companion.

The old ferryman came out of his house at the captain’s summons, and got his boat ready. And in a few minutes Justin was safely landed on the other side of the river. His guard, however, did not leave him until they had passed all the pickets, and reached the extreme outposts of the guerrillas’ encampment.

Then Captain Bannister took from his pocket the paper that Monck had given him, and handed it to Justin, saying:

“In case you should meet with any scouts of our band, you have only to show them this paper, and you will pass unmolested.”

Justin took the paper with a bow, and then thanked Captain Bannister for all his courtesy.

“You will follow this path through the wood until you reach the turnpike road leading to W.—the same road upon which our men first surprised you,” said Captain Bannister.

“Thanks! All right. I shall find the way,” answered Justin.

And the two men parted—Captain Bannister returning towards the camp and Colonel Rosenthal proceeding on his way.

It was the same dark and narrow path, through the thick, impenetrable forest, that he had travelled as a prisoner on the night previous. And his progress was of course as slow and difficult now as it had been then.

His soul was troubled, too, for the boys he had left behind. He was somewhat comforted by the assurance of Monck that their lives should be safe, and he was cheered by the recollection of Wing’s words; but still he was most anxious to get on to W., that he might at once see to the exchange of the prisoners.

Two hours of slow riding brought him to the high road, upon which he emerged just as the moon was rising, and flooding all the valley with light.

Here, where there was no obstruction, he put spurs to his horse, and flew along at a furious rate of speed for several miles, when suddenly his horse fell lame.

He dismounted, and examined the creature’s feet, hoping that he should find a pebble, or some transient irritation of that sort, the removal of which should restore the horse to the free use of his limbs. But he found nothing, and was at length forced to give up the search in the belief that the cause of lameness was something more serious and permanent than he had supposed. Justin was as merciful as he was courageous. He did not mount again; but, taking the bridle in his hand, walked on, leading the steed after him.

In this manner he had progressed slowly over another mile of the road, when he suddenly heard the clatter of horse’s hoofs behind, and the next moment Wing rode up, and drew rein beside him.

“Wing!” he joyfully exclaimed.

“Yes, my Colonel, Wing. I am like the bad penny, always coming back to you,” said the lad gayly, as he dismounted, and leading his horse, walked by his colonel’s side.

“Oh, my dear boy! I am so delighted to see you safe! But how does it happen that you are here?”

“My Colonel, it is easily explained. After I had given you that hint—”

—“Ah, yes—that hint, my boy! It saved my life. And that is the third time you have come between me and certain death, my child,” said Justin, earnestly.

“I was going to say that after I left the room, the guards, obeying orders that had been given them, no doubt, took me up into a back attic and locked me in.”

“Humph!”

“It was a place of utter darkness, and at first I could not see my hand before me. But gradually as my eyes became accustomed to the scene, I made out the form of a dormer window. While I was straining my eyes towards that square of thinner darkness, for it was no more, I heard a scraping and scratching on the outside of the window.”

“Well?”

“I went to see what it meant. I found that the noise proceeded from the branch of a tall elm tree that was blown by the wind across the window. Then a means of escape suggested itself to me. I tried the window and found that I could hoist it. Then I peered out and perceived that with a little dexterity I might seize the branch of the elm and swing myself into the body of the tree, from whence I could easily get down to the ground.”

“A dangerous experiment.”

“But I had no other alternative, than to try it. I turned back into the room and felt my way along the wall until I came to the door. I felt up and down the door to find whether there was any fastening by which I could secure it on the inside. I found a strong iron bolt. And I immediately bolted it, so that if any one should come, they should not at once discover my flight.”

“Your old precaution, Wing.”

“Yes, sir. Then I went to the window, got out upon the sill, seized the branches of the elm and swung myself into the body of the tree, from which I climbed down to the ground. The back part of the encampment is not strongly guarded, you know. By creeping and crawling through the bushes and keeping in the deep shadows, I reached at last a path skirting the wood. I came along under the shadow of the wood until I heard a horseman galloping towards me. Then I took out the little revolver that I had carried safely in my bosom through all my adventures, and I cocked it to have it in readiness.”

“Ah!”

“The horseman came on, saw me and ordered me to halt. I replied with my revolver. And he dropped from his saddle. I went up and seized the horse by the bridle while I disengaged the foot of the rider from the stirrup. Then, still holding the horse by the bridle with one hand, I rifled the pockets of the rider with the other. I took from them nothing but a box of wax matches and a written paper which I found contained the countersign. Then I mounted the horse and rode down to the ferry, gave the countersign to the sleepy sentinel and to the tipsy ferryman, and was put across the river without difficulty. I made the best of my way through the forest, giving the countersign wherever challenged, until I passed beyond Monck’s lines and reached the high road. And here I am.”

“Wing, I have heard of a charmed life, but you seem to possess a charmed liberty. There is no such thing as keeping you a prisoner. But this rider whom you shot from his horse. Do you know who he was, my boy?” inquired Justin, uneasily.

“Yes, sir. Captain Bannister.”

“Oh, Wing, what a fatal necessity! I am so sorry! He was a gallant fellow, if he was a guerrilla. And he was returning from seeing me safe through the lines!”

“I am sorry too, sir, but it couldn’t be helped. And if the thing was to be done over again, I should have to do it over again,” said Wing with a sigh.

“Where is your comrade? Where is Hay?” inquired Colonel Rosenthal.

“I do not know, sir. I have not seen him since we ate our supper together this evening, but I presume he is still in the guerrilla camp. But what is the matter with your horse, sir?”

“He has fallen lame, Wing.”

“A pebble in his shoe, perhaps?”

“No; I have examined carefully; there is nothing of the kind.”

“Will you let me look, sir?”

“Certainly, if you like,” said the colonel, taking the bridles of both horses in his hands so as to leave Wing at liberty to make the examination he wished.

“See here, sir. It was not a pebble, but it was something worse,” said the boy, drawing a thorn from the horse’s foot, and holding it up to view.

“Now, then, why couldn’t I have seen that?” exclaimed Justin, in some surprise and impatience.

“Because it was not easy to be seen, sir. I did not see it. I felt it with the ends of my fingers.”

“You have a very delicate touch, Wing—as delicate as a woman’s.”

“I think you can mount your horse now, sir. I think he will go without trouble,” said the boy.

And Colonel Rosenthal got into his saddle and rode on towards W., followed by his favorite orderly.

Day was breaking when they rode into the town.

They went immediately to the head quarters of General W., to whom Colonel Rosenthal reported.

Active preparations were set on foot in W. for an expedition against the guerrilla bands who were now ascertained to have joined forces at the Black Bear’s Pass, from which point they were preparing to make a descent upon Maryland.

And now it is time to return to Elfie, and see how she fares with her wild lover.