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My lady of the South. Randall Parrish
Читать онлайн.Название My lady of the South
Год выпуска 0
isbn 4064066063672
Автор произведения Randall Parrish
Жанр Документальная литература
Издательство Bookwire
"Oh, no, there is no goodness in it. I am simply accustomed to speaking the truth under all circumstances. It is an unpleasant habit acquired in childhood. You are nothing to me, and never can be; I would do everything in my power to thwart your present purpose; I believe I could shoot you down if I were still armed, and I know I would denounce you here and now, if there was any one at hand able to make you prisoner. We remain enemies, but—but, in some unaccountable way, I cannot personally hate you."
"You mean it is the Yankee, and not the man you war against?"
"I am certainly enlisted against your cause; nor have I any real reason to respect you otherwise."
"You consider me guilty then of deliberate treachery toward you?"
Her clear, accusing eyes were apparently gazing toward my shrouded face.
"Was it anything else?"
The blunt question came so swiftly that I stood hesitating. She was so frankly outspoken, so uncompromisingly direct, as to confuse me, yet in truth scarcely permitting any time for answer.
"What was it except treachery? You came to us falsely wearing that uniform which we respect; you came pretending to be another man; you obtained entrance to the sanctity of our home under an assumed name; you deliberately tricked me into a most unhappy and compromising position. Could any right-minded woman ever forgive all this? Is what you have done justified even by Yankee ethics?"
"No," I acknowledged gravely. "All the rest might be justified by the necessities of war, but not the personal injury which I have done you. Yet I am going to make that wrong as easy to remedy as I possibly can; I am going away now, the very moment I can feel assured you are in the care of friends. It is not at all probable we shall ever meet again, and any court will give you instant release. But first I desire to say this: Amid all the trials of to-night you have appealed to me, have won my deepest admiration and respect. I cannot bear to feel, however much it might be deserved, that you utterly despise me."
"I acknowledge I do not; I believe what you have told me, that you merely yielded to circumstances in the hope of saving yourself, and thus gaining opportunity to perform what you consider an imperative duty."
"I thank you from the bottom of my heart for saying that. Before we finally part would you accept my hand?"
I knew she straightened stiffly back in the saddle, her hands pressed against the pommel.
"Oh, no, I could not do that. You have no right to ask such a thing; not while you continue to wear falsely that uniform; not while you intend riding directly away from here planning to do injury to my people."
I bowed, and turned away, hat in hand, toward the steps. Her voice halted me.
"Be—before you knock," she questioned doubtfully, "would you tell me your name?"
"Certainly, you will need to know that; I had forgotten. I am Elbert King."
"An—an officer?"
"Not commissioned; merely a sergeant of artillery."
Whatever her secret thoughts might have been, they were securely hidden in silence and darkness. Young as she was in years she had already learned the lesson of control.
"I thank you; that was all."
I knocked twice before receiving any reply; then shuffling feet sounded within, and the voice of an aged man asked anxiously who was there.
"An officer of the Tenth Georgia Cavalry," I replied readily. "I have a lady with me who has been injured by a fall from her horse."
I heard him unbar the heavy door, opening it barely wide enough to peer cautiously forth. He had no light, yet I stood so close he doubtless was able to perceive my uniform. Before either of us could exchange words, the clear voice of the girl sounded from below.
"It is all right. Judge Dunn; I am Jean Denslow."
Our situation was explained in a few sentences, and, the Judge guiding me, I lifted her slender figure in my arms and bore her unresisting into the broad hallway. As he disappeared in a wheel chair propelled by a negro, seeking a light and assistance, I remained looking down to where I had deposited her on a comfortable haircloth couch.
"Is there anything more I can do?"
"No, nothing; I would much rather you would go before the others come."
"That will probably be best," reluctantly. "Yet I am beginning to wish I might come back again."
I heard the quick indrawing of her breath, but no spoken word.
"You will answer nothing?"
"Only that I wish to forget this night utterly, utterly. If you are indeed a gentleman you will understand, and go."
There was certainly nothing more to linger for, nothing more to be said. I heard the stiff rustle of a dress on the stair, and knew her friends were coming down. My own night's work yet remained unaccomplished, and was urgent. I passed swiftly out and down the steps.
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