CHAPTER X
WITH JEAN DENSLOW
I SAW her first, yet with no opportunity to escape, for almost instantly she perceived my presence, and flung up one hand, her eyes filled with apprehension. Fearful lest she should scream I remained motionless, but managed to say, "Do not be alarmed; I am not here to do injury."
I heard the quick breath hiss from between her lips; the uplifted hand grasped at a bar of the trellis.
"But what are you doing here? You—you are a Yankee!"
I bowed, lifting my hat, wondering if she had caught even a glimpse of me during our night's ride together, which would now serve to awaken her suspicion. But there was no look of recognition in the blue-gray eyes gazing so directly at me full of doubt, aversion, distrust.
"I command a scouting detachment back in the hills," I explained, "and came down here seeking information I thought might be gained from your negroes."
"Oh!" her lips setting more firmly over the white teeth. "What information? Perhaps you would like to question me?"
"I would indeed, but should have doubt as to the result."
"You mean I would deceive you?"
"No, not with those eyes. I should rather expect you would refuse to answer."
She was silent a long moment, her gaze on my face, evidently endeavoring to control her nerves, and formulate some plan of action. Then her lips smiled, her eyes softening.
"Oh, no; that would be discourtesy even to an enemy. Your clothes appear rough; you have been riding all night, yet you have the face of a gentleman. I may not like the color you wear, but I would much rather lie to you than refuse an answer."
"Then I will test you. Where can I find Big Donald?"
She took a single step backward, still clutching at the trellis rail, the smile vanishing from her face, which had perceptibly whitened.
"Who?"
"Big Donald—that is the name he is known by in our army; the guerilla leader who holds a Confederate commission."
"But why should I know him? Why should I be able to tell you where he is?"
"Because he operates in this neighborhood, and because the people in this house are his assistants."
"And if I did know, do you suppose I would ever tell you?"
"You said you would—or else lie."
"Then I will lie; I know nothing of Big Donald."
I could see the flush spring to her cheeks, the swift rising and falling of her bosom, but her unflinching eyes were upon mine.
"Where are your men?" she questioned suddenly.
Just across the valley."
"Are you hunting this—this man you call Big Donald?"
"We should like to find him."
"For what purpose?"
"Suppose I should say an exchange of prisoners?"
The blue-gray eyes hardened, and she stood more erect, her hand dropping to her side.
"Then I should say you lied also," she returned coldly. "But we only play at cross-purposes; if you really wish to question me, why not begin?"
"I have begun, but with no very encouraging results. However I will attempt an advance from another direction. Whose house is this?"
"You know already—it is Judge Dunn's plantation, 'Fairview.'"
"Are you his daughter?"
"No; merely a guest."
"Of whom does the family consist?"
She hesitated, biting her lips.
"Why do you ask all this? Are you gallantly contemplating an attack on the house?"
"No," I said, "we are soldiers, not guerillas. I confess it is curiosity more than anything else, and—because I like to talk with you."
"With me, indeed! You have the insolence of the North."
"Have you met the same trait before, then?"
The bright color swept to her hair, her direct gaze faltering for the first time.
"What few Yankees I have had the misfortune to meet," she said quickly, "have not been greatly troubled with modesty. I hoped you might prove a new species."
"And I disappoint you. I fear the color of the uniform, even the birthplace, makes little difference in the hearts of men: a young and pretty woman attracts us all alike."
"Do not attempt compliment."
"That would be impossible; my eyes speak the truth."
Perhaps some tone of my voice sounded familiar, woke some vague memory, for she leaned forward.
"Who are you?"
"A lieutenant on the staff of General Rosecrans."
"What is your name?"
"King."
She drew a quick, startled breath, her hands clasping tightly.
"King—how—how strange! Do you know an Elbert King, of your army? A—a sergeant of artillery?"
I waited as if thinking, endeavoring to determine which would be best, to deceive her, or confess the truth outright. Something in her face forced me to the falsehood.
"Yes, Reynolds's Battery; he was reported killed in our last battle. Did you know him?"
"No, not really; indeed I have never even seen his face: I wondered if you could be the same," her voice faltering over the words.
"That sounds strange, that you should know his name, and all about him, yet never have seen his face."
"He was not killed, only wounded. He came to our plantation in the night endeavoring to escape into your lives. I—I aided him."
"Then you surely don't hate all Yankees," I exclaimed, almost eagerly. "You are willing to grant some of us worth knowing?"
"You mistake," with dignity. "He was nothing to me. I assisted him unintentionally, not even knowing he was a Yankee."
"If you had known would you have betrayed him?"
"Not merely as a fugitive, perhaps: but as a bearer of important news to our enemies I would."
"And me?"
She looked at me, her eyes almost angry in their gray depths, her lips pressed closely together.
"We are enemies, not friends," she returned calmly. "I am a Confederate."
"Yet what necessity is there for war between us now?" I insisted. "We are on neutral ground, between the lines."
The girl hesitated, studying my face intently, evidently finding therein some qualities which appealed to her better nature. There was even a faint suggestion of cordiality in the voice that finally answered.
"If your mission is one of peace, Lieutenant King, I can greet you as a gentleman. I could not truthfully say you are welcome to this house in that uniform, but we are not boors. Is your mission peace?"
Deep in my heart I wished it were, as I looked down into the clear depths of those frankly questioning eyes, but she was a hard girl to lie to, and I felt no real temptation to disguise my purpose.
"So far as this house is concerned I come in peace, but I come seeking the man Donald."
"He is our friend."
"And that leaves us enemies still, does it?"
"I will certainly do all I can to prevent his being found."
"Is he concealed in the house?"
"Not to my knowledge."
"If I return with my men, and search the premises—"
"We could not prevent such an outrage," she broke in swiftly, "but it will be needless to call your force; the house is open; you may make the search yourself."
Had I been older, more experienced, and had the invitation come from some other than this quick-witted girl, I might easily have questioned its honesty. Yet such a suspicion never occurred to me then; her words merely conveyed the natural indignation she felt at my suggestion of forcibly entering this home.
"You mean you will act as my guide? Who are within?"
"Judge Dunn, his daughter Lucille, and a few house servants; no one you need fear," a touch of sarcasm in the low tone.
"And you are—?"
"Jean Denslow, at your service," dropping me a curtsey, her eyes sparkling behind the fringe of lashes.
I was armed and I believed her. I had not the faintest conception that the interior of the house concealed the man we were searching after, or indeed any others than those she had named. It was not even to assure myself in this respect that I instantly determined to go with her—it was the charm of the girl which made me captive. I would go merely to remain in her presence, to prolong our conversation, to increase, if possible, the memory of our acquaintance. This was an adventure of love, not war, and I was blind to all but the impulse to linger. My heart throbbed fast, yet I managed to say gravely,
"Very well. Miss Denslow, it you can satisfy me that no guerillas are harbored here, I will see that you are left undisturbed in the future."
She turned without a word, and I followed, quickening my steps, until we walked nearly side by side. I could observe the contour of her face against the green leaves, but the expression of her eyes was securely veiled by the long lashes. I hardly remarked the house at all, endeavoring to think of something I might say to renew our conversation, when we came to the end of the grape-arbor, and fronted a door standing slightly ajar. A negro, working in the garden, straightened up, and stared at us curiously, but as he grasped his hoe, and took a threatening step forward, the girl shook her head, and he came to a pause, evidently greatly puzzled. Inside the door, which the girl closed behind us, the lock clicking sharply, a dozen carpeted steps led upward to the level of the first floor, and the drapery of a portière permitted egress into the broad hall extending the entire length of the main house. At a glance I was impressed by the height of ceiling, the air of elegant comfort displayed in furnishing and decoration. Wealth, combined with excellent taste, was in evidence everywhere. Several doors opened to right and left; a broad, carpeted stairway ran curving upward to the second story, and in the recess behind were a sewing table and two rockers. A colored maid occupied one of these, busily engaged with her needle, but rose instantly at our appearance, her eyes opening wide as she stared at my uniform.
"Has the Judge come down yet, Tillie?" Miss Denslow questioned.
"Deed he has, Miss," her teeth showing in a sudden smile. "Alphonse helped him into de library 'bout twenty minutes ago."
"I wonder Alphonse escaped from you so soon."
"Oh, go way," coquettishly, "de Jedge sent him after some hot water."
We went forward to a door which opened to the left of the stairs, and the girl knocked lightly. A deep voice answered, and I followed as she instantly stepped within. The two windows were to the west, the curtains partially drawn so as to leave the large apartment in shadow. For a moment I could perceive little except a heavily carved library table, and rows of books along the wall. Then I saw, still dimly, the motionless figure of a man sitting opposite, and directly facing us. I could distinguish merely the face and the upper portion of the body, but these were sufficient to divert my attention. The shoulders were broad, Herculean, the head large, massive, crowned by a shaggy mass of iron-gray hair, the eyes looking out from cavernous depths. He must have observed my uniform with the first glance, for he burst out in a gruff, snapping voice,
"What's that Yank doing here?"
My fair guide was by his side in an instant, her hand on his uplifted arm.
"Wait, Judge," she exclaimed hurriedly. "It is all right; he is alone, and has entered on my invitation. This is Lieutenant King, of General Rosecrans's staff."
There was an awkward pause, during which I could hear the heavy breathing of the man, and observe his deep-set eyes wander from me to the face of the girl.
"Oh, indeed," he growled finally; "then I suppose whatever you do I must endorse. You are the first Yankee who ever put foot in my house, sir, and I hope you'll be the last. What do you want?"
She permitted me no opportunity for reply, standing almost directly between us.
"Lieutenant King has a force of men back in the hills hunting after Big Donald. He came here alone, and I volunteered to let him search the house."
"What the dev—"
"Yes," interrupting quickly, "I thought you would prefer having it done by one alone rather than by a lot of rough soldiers. Lieutenant King is a gentleman, and I am sure will be as considerate as possible."
The Judge choked in his throat, his great hands gripping each other on the table. He was evidently struggling with a temper hard to control.
"It will be merely a matter of form," I endeavored to explain. "We know of your sympathy with this outlaw, and I shall be only too glad to relieve you of all suspicion of harboring him."
"Oh, you do know that, do you, you young whipper-snapper. If I could use my legs I'd throw you out that window." He stopped suddenly, glaring about as though in search of some weapon; then gazed helplessly into the face of the young girl.
"I'm an old man—an old man," he confessed slowly, his voice rumbling. "I could have fought you once, but not now. Go on, and search the house; you are safe enough alone, with only a paralytic and two women to oppose you. Lord! but I wish Donald was here."
The girl stepped back, her cheeks flushed from excitement, and touched my sleeve with her hand.
"Come," she said softly, "he will only become more irritable if we remain, and the sooner your search is completed the better."
In the hall without I endeavored to read her eyes, but she avoided looking at me, apparently merely eager to finish, as soon as possible, a disagreeable task.
"Miss Lucille has not left her room yet. Lieutenant, but I have sent her word, and the upper portion of the house will be prepared for your inspection by the time we have finished the lower. With the exception of the library, where you have already been, these rooms are all unoccupied, the doors unfastened. Please examine them for yourself."
"I feel quite ashamed of thus intruding—" I began, conscious of the growing restraint in her manner.
"It is unnecessary to apologize. I have long since learned this part of the incivility of war. My own home has been searched often enough by your soldiery. It is to save this house from such outrage that I have asked you to act in person."
"And I shall perform my duty with all respect."
I felt the swift glance of her veiled eyes was full of thanks, but the long lashes drooped so quickly that I gained barely a glimpse of the blue-gray depths. Yet even this set my heart throbbing as I opened the door nearest my hand. It was the front parlor, the furniture covered with linen protectors, a large, but gloomy apartment, with all the curtains closely drawn to shut out the sunlight. A single glance revealed its emptiness. In similar manner I examined the music room, the family sitting-room, the private chamber of the Judge, and a dining-room of regal proportions. To most of these I devoted no more than a cursory glance, but wherever doors appeared I entered and made certain of what they concealed, although Miss Denslow did not leave the hall, or endeavor, in any way, to accompany me. By this time we were beyond the foot of the stairs, nearly at the rear end of the great hall, and, as I emerged from the dining-room, she pointed to a small door farthest to the left.
"This is being utilized as a store room, and the key is kept in the kitchen. If you care to look inside I will get it for you."
"Now I have begun I should like to make a thorough job."
"Very well."
She was back in a moment, inserting the key in the lock. The room was dark, and I took a single step within, feeling in my pocket as I stood there for a match case. I had it open in my hand, still peering curiously into the black shadows, when the door crashed behind me, and I heard the sharp click of the key in the lock. An instant I balanced there, helpless from sudden surprise; then I hurled my body against the unyielding wood.