Jasper County Democrat, Volume 15, Number 49, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 21 September 1912 — My Lady of the North [ARTICLE+ILLUSTRATION]

My Lady of the North

Tiff lOVE STORY OF A GRAY JACKET

By RANDALL PARRISH

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CHAPTER VII. > . A Disciple of Sir Walter Even as I gazed upon her, my admiration deeper than my pain, the arch expression of her face changed; there came a sudden rush of pity, of anxiety into those clear, challenging eyes, and with one quick step she drew nearer and bent above me. “Oh, Captain Wayne;” she cried, her warm, womanly heart conquering all prejudice, “you are badly hurt and bleeding. Why did you not tell me? Please let me aid you.” “I fear I must,” I replied grimly. “I would gladly spare you, for indeed I do not believe my injury sufficiently serious to cause alarm, but I find I have only one arm I can use at present; the brute got his teeth Into the other.”

“Oh, believe me, I can do it.” She spoke bravely, a sturdy ring of confidence in the voice, although at the thought her face paled. “I have been in the hospitals at Baltimore, and taken care of wounded soldiers. If there was only some water here!” She glanced about, dreading the possibility of having to go forth into the night alone in search of a spring or well.

“I think yon will find a pail on the bench yonder,” I said, for from where I leaned against the wall I could see out into the shed. “It was doubtless left for the dog to drink from.” She came back with it, tearing down a cloth from off a peg in the wall as she passed, and then, wearing a resolute air of authority, knelt beside me, and with rapid fingers, flung back my jacket, unfastening the rough armj shirt, and laid bare, so far as was possible, the lacerated shoulder.

“Forgive me,,” she said anxiously, “but I fear I can never dress it in this way. We must remove your jacket and cut away the sleeve of your shirt.”

At last the disagreeable task was accomplished, the wounded shoulder completely bared. Her face was deathly white now, and she shielded her eyes with her hand.

“Oh, what a horrible wound!” she exclaimed, almost sobbing. “How that great brute must have hurt you!” “The wound is not so serious as it appears,” I replied reassuringly, and glad myself to feel that I spoke the truth, “but I confess the pain is intense, and makes me feel somewhat faint. It was not so much the mere bite of the dog, but unfortunately he got his teeth into an old wound and tore it open.” “An old wound?"

“Yes; I received a Minie ball there at Gettysburg, and although the bullet was extracted, the wound never properly healed.” She performed her disagreeable task with all the tenderness of a sympathetic woman, and as she worked swiftly and deftly, made no attempt to conceal the tears clinging | to her long lashes. Skilfully the deep, jagged gash was bathed out, 1 and then as carefully bound up with j the softest cloths she cmild find at hand. The relief was great, and I felt, as I moved the shoulder, that saving the soreness it would probably not greatly bother me. “Now you must lie back and rest,” she said commandingly, as I attempted to thank her. “As your nurse I command absolute quiet,” striving to speak gaily. “See, the daylight is already here, and I mean to discover if this lone cabin contains anything which human beings can eat; I confess -that I am nearly famished.” “A most excellent symptom, and I Imagine your quest will not be wholly vain. To my eye that greatly resembles a slab of bacon hanging beside the chimney.” “It indeed is,” she exclaimed, “and I feel as a shipwrecked seaman must on first beholding land.” However my naturally energetic spirit at inactivity, for the time being my faintness precluded any thought of doing other than obeying her orders, and I lay there silent, propped up against the logs, my eager eyes following her rapid, graceful movements with a constantly increasing interest. As she worked, the reflection of the red flames became mingled with the gray dawn, until the bare and cheerless interior grew more and more visible. Her search was far from unsuccessful, While her resourcefulness astonished me, old campaigner as I was; for it was scarcely more than full daylight before she had me at the table, and I was doing full justice to such coarse food as the larder furnished.

The eating helped me greatly; hut for some time so busy were we that neither of us spoke. On my own part I experienced a strange hesitancy in addressing her upon terms of equality. Ordinarily not easily embarrassed in feminine society, I felt In this instance a definite barrier between us, which prevented my feeling at ease. Now and then as w? sat opposite each other, eating amid a silence most un-

pleasant, I would catch her eyes glancing across at me, but they were lowered instantly whenever I ventured to meet them. Finally I broke the stillness with a commonplace remark: “I presume your people will be greatly worried by this time over your mysterious disappearance.” A flush swept her throat and cheeks, but she did not lift her eyes from the plate. "Yes,” she answered slowly, “Frank js doubtless searching for me long before this.”

“Frank?” I asked, feeling glad of this opportunity to learn more of her relationships. "You forget, possibly, that your friends are strange to me. You refer to the gentleman who expected to meet you on the road?” “To Major Brennan, yes.” There was nothing about the tone of her reply that invited me to press the inquiry further. One thing, however, was reasonably certain, —the man she called “Frank” could not be her father. I longed to ask if he was a brother, but the restraint of her whole manner repelled the suggestion. “Did I understand that you have nursed in the Federal hospitals at Baltimore?” I questioned, more to continue the conversation than from any deep interest. “Merely as a volunteer, and when the regular nurses were especially busy. Major Brennan was stationed there for some time when I first visited him, and I felt it my duty as a loyal woman to aid the poor fellows.”

I remained silent, striving vainly to frame some innocent question which should solve for me the problem of who and what she was. Suddenly she spoke softly: "Captain Wayne, I feel I owe you an apology for my unwarranted and unladylike conduct last night. I am very sure now that you are a gentleman, and will appreciate how bitterly I was tried, how deeply I have ever since regretted it.” It hurt her pride to say even this much, as I could tell by her downcast eyes and heaving bosom, and I hastened to relieve her embarrassment.

“You have nothing whatever to ask forgiveness for," I said earnestly. “Rather such a request should come from me. I only trust, Miss Brennan, that you will excuse my part in this extremely unfortunate affair.”

She sat looking down upon her plate, her fingers nervously crumbling a bit of corn bread.

“You do not even known who I am,” she said slowly. “I am not Miss, but Mrs. Brennan.”

I felt as if a dash of cold water had been suddenly thrown in my face. “Indeed?” I stammered, scarcely knowing what I said. “You appear so young a girl that I never once thought of you as being a married woman.” "I was married very early; indeed, before I was seventeen. My husband—”

What she was about to add I could but conjecture, for a quick change in the expression of her face startled me. “What is it?” I questioned, half rising to my feet, and glancing over my shoulder toward the wall where her eyes were riveted.

“Something resembling a hand pushed aside the coat hanging yonder,” she explained in low trembling tone, “and I thought I saw a face.” Believing it to be merely her overwrought nerves which were at fault, I sought to soothe her. “It was probably no more than a shadow,” I said, crossing to her side of the table, to enable her better to feel the influence of my presence. "Let us be content to sit here by the door, for we should be taking too great a risk of discovery if we ventured into the open.” I had barely spoken these words and placed my fingers on her hand to lead her forward when the small door which opened into the shed was thrown back noisily, and two great shaggy dogs, the evident mates of the dead brute at our feet, leaped fiercely in. She shrank toward me with a sob of terror; but even as I drew a revolver from my belt, a man and a woman appeared almost simultaneously in that same opening. “Down, Douglas! down, Roderick! Ha! ‘There lies Red Murdock, stark and stiff!’ —down, you brutes; you’ll be dead yourselves sometime." The man strode forward as he spoke, clubbing the frenzied brutes with the stock of the long rifle he carried.

"‘Yelled on the view the opening pack,’ ” he quoted, as he distributed his blows impartially to right and left; “‘rock, glen, and cavern paid them back.’ Them thar be Scott’s words, stranger, an’ I reckon as how ol’ Sii Walter knew whut he wus writin’ ’bout. Stop thet blame youlin’, you Roderick, er I’ll take t’other end o’ this gun ter ye.” He redoubled his efforts for peace, finally driving the rebellious beasts back into , one corner, where they sat upon their haunches and eyed us wistfully. “ ‘Two dogs of black Saint Hubert’s

breed, unmatched lor courage, bream, and speed,’ ” he exclaimed, wiping the perspiration from his face with the back of one hand and staring at us, ’specially the breath.” He was a fierce-looking little fellow, scarcely more than a half-grown bey in size, with round, red face full of strange wrinkles, and head as oddly peak-shaped as I ever looked upon. It went up exactly like the apex of a pea*, while the upper portion was utterly bald. He formed a most remarkable contrast to the tall, rawboned, angular female who loomed uplike a small mountain just behind him. ‘T reckon as how you unshed quite a bit of a scrap afore ye laid thet thar dorg out, stranger,” he said, a half-angry tone lurking in his deep voice. “ ‘The fleetest hound in all the North,’ an’ I’m durned if I jist likes ther wav you uns makes yerselves et hum in this yere cabin.”

“Shet up, Jed Bungay,” cut in his better-half, sharply, and as she spoke stfie caught the little man unceremoniously by one arm, and thrusting him roughly to one side strode heavily forward until she paused in the centre of the room facing us with her arms akimbo.

“Now I’d jist like ter know,” she said sa\*fcjely, “who you uns be, a breakin’ into a hour*:, and a killin’ a dorg, an’ a eatin’ up everything we uns got without so much as a sayin’ ‘by yer leave’ er nuthin’. I reckon as how you uns don’t take this yere cabin fer no tavern?”

“Madam,” I said with a low bow, “it is misfortune, not desire, which has caused us to trespass upon your hospitality. We will very gladly pay you liberally for any damage done. I am an officer in the Confederate service, and the breaking down of our horses compelled us to take refuge here in order that this lady might not be exposed to danger from roving gangs of guerillas. The dog attacked us in the dark, and we killed him in order to save our lives.”

“ ‘The deep-mouthed bloodhound’s heavy bay resounded up the rocky way,’ ” ejaculated Bungay with dancing eyes.

“Drat yer potry, Jed Bungay! ye dew make me tired fer suah.” She turned back to us, and from her first words it was plainly evident she had been impressed with but one sentence of my labored explanation. “Did you uns say as how ye’d pay fer whut ye et and fer thet truck ye busted?” she asked doubtfully. “Certainly, madam, and I took some money from my pocket as evidence of good faith. “What would you consider due you?” The grim, set face relaxed slightly, while she permitted her husband to edge his way a little more into the foreground. “Wal, stranger, I sorter reckon as how ’bout four bits ’ill squar’ things—dorgs is mighty dura cheap hereabout enyhow. Give me ther four bits, mister, an’ I reckon as how it ’ll be all right."

I glanced at Mrs. Brennan, and the amused twinkle in her eyes led me to say heartily, “We had not entirely completed our meal, but imagined we saw ghosts.”

“Ghosts!” He glanced around apprehensively,— “ ‘On Heaven and on thy lady call, and enter the enchanted hall!’ Wus ther ghosts ye saw over thar?” And he pointed toward the wall opposite. I nodded. “Then I sorter reckon as how Mariar and me wus them ghosts,” he continued, grinning. “We sorter reckoned as how we wanted ter see who wus yere afore we come in. ‘l’ll listen till my fancy hears the clang of swords, the crash of spears.’ These yere is tough times, stranger, in these parts, an’ a man whut has ter pertect a lovely female hes got ter keep his eye skinned.”

Marla sniffed contemptuously. “Ye’re no great shakes at a pertectin’ o’ me, Jed Bungay. Now you sit down thar an’ begin ter fill up. I reckon as how ther Cap an’ his gal will kinder jine with us fer manners.”

She seated Jed with such extreme vigor that I looked for the chair to collapse bfc-it *Tm as he came down, but the i. —an, not in the least daunted, pickt_ Ms knife and fork with a sigh of "‘0 woman! in our hours of ease uncertain, coy, and hard to please,’ ” he murmured. “Come, sit down, stranger; ‘sit down an’ share a soldier’s couch, a soldier’s fare.’ Not as I’m a sojer,” he hastened to explain, “but tbet’s how It is in ther book. Say, old woman, kint ye kinder sker up some coffee fer we uns—leastwise whut us Confeds call coffee?” • •»

Without much difficulty I induced Mrs. Brennan to draw her chair once more to the table, and I sat down beside her.

"You are Confederate, then?” I asked, curious to know upon which side his sympathies were enlisted in the struggle. He glanced warily at my gray jacket, then his 'shrewd, shifty eyes wandered to the blue and yellow cavalry cloak lying on the floor.

“Wal, I jist don’t know, Cap,” he said cautiously, continuing to eat as he talked, “as I’m much o’ enything in this yere row. First ther durned gray-backs they come snoopin’ up yere, an’ run off all my horgs; then ther blame blue-bellies come ’long an’ cut down every lick o’ my corn fodder, so thet I’ll be cussed If I ain’t 'bout ready ter fight either side. Anyhow I ain’t did no fightin’ yit worth talkin’ ’bout, fer Mariar is pow’ful feared I’d get hurt.” Maria regarded him scornfully. "Hiding out, I suppose?” “Wal, ’t ain’t very healthful fer us ter be stayin’ et hum much o’

ther time, long with tnat Char Red Lowrie, an’ Jim Hale, an’ the rest o’ thet cattle ’round yere.” “Guerillas pretty thick now in the mountains?”

‘Wal, I dunno; I heerd as they wus doin’ somethin’ down by ther brick church, but thar’s no great shakes of ’em jist ’round yere. I reckon as how they knows ’nough ter keep ’way from Jed Bungay—l’d pitch ’em ‘far as ever peasant pitched a bar.’ ”

“You have no fear of them, then?” “Whut, me?” The little man sat bolt upright, and glared fiercely across the table as though he would resent an insult. “I jist tell ye. Cap, I reckon thar ain’t no guerilla a goin’ ter poke his nose ’round yere ’less he’s a lookin’ fer sudden death; thar’s mighty few o’ ’em ain’t heerd o’ Jed Bungay— Whut in thunder's ther matter with yer gal?” He stopped suddenly, and stared at her; but before I could turn about in my chair one of the great dogs began to growl savagely, and Maria sprang forward and cuffed the surly brute into rebellious silence.

“It’s hosses,” she said harshly. “Likely as not it’s Red’s gang. Now, Jed Bungay, yere’s two lovely females fer veter perfect.” As I hastily sprang to my feet I caught a fleeting glimpse out of the Partially opened door. Down the steep of the hill road there was slowly moving toward us on foot a small party of perhaps a dozen men, so variously clothed as to make it evident they were irregulars. Just ahead of them, but on horseback, two others were even then turning into the narrow path that led to the house, attracted probably by the smoke which streamed from the chimney-top. (.To be Continued.)