the next day naught of interest would baynell detail of his venture into the storm centre. his invitation to the house of judge roscoe, somewhat noted for the vigor of his rebellious sentiments, resentful, implacable, even heady in the assumptions of his age, had roused the curiosity of baynell's two most intimate friends concerning the traits of that secluded inner exclusive circle which only the accident of ancient association had enabled him to penetrate. in the tedium of camp routine even slight matters were of interest, and it was the habit of the three to compare notes and relate for mutual entertainment their varied experiences since last they had met.
the battery of six pieces which baynell commanded enjoyed a certain renown as a crack corps, and spectators were gathering to witness the gun-drill,—a number of soldiers from the adjoining cavalry and infantry camps, a few of the railroad hands from the repair work on a neighboring track, and a contingent of freedmen, jubilantly idle. standing a little apart from these was a group, chiefly mounted, consisting of several officers of the different arms of the service,[pg 18] military experts, critically observant, among whom was colonel vertnor ashley, who commanded a volunteer regiment of horse, and a younger man, lieutenant seymour of the infantry.
it was a fine fresh morning, with white clouds scudding across a densely blue sky chased by the wind, the grass springing into richer verdure, the buds bourgeoning, with almost the effect of leaflets already, in the great oak and tulip trees of the grove. daffodils were blooming here and there, scattered throughout the sward,—even beneath the carriages of the guns a score perhaps, untrampled still, reared aloft the golden "candlesticks" with an illuminating effect. the warm sun was flashing with an embellishing glitter on the rows of the white tents of the army on the hills around the little city as far as the eye could reach. the deep, broad river, here and there dazzling with lustrous stretches of ripples, was full of craft,—coal-barges, skiffs, gunboats, the ordinary steam-packets, flatboats, and rafts; the peculiar dull roar of a railway train heavily laden, transporting troops, came to the ear as the engine, shrieking like a monster, rushed upon the bridge with its great consignment of crowded humanity in the long line of box cars, an additional locomotive assisting the speed of the transit.
"come here, ashley, and see if you can make anything of baynell," said the infantry lieutenant, whose regiment lay in camp a little to[pg 19] the west, as the colonel reined in his horse under the tree where seymour was hanging on to baynell's stirrup-leather. "he hasn't a syllable to say. i want to know what is the name of that pretty girl at judge roscoe's."
ashley came riding up with his inimitable pompous swagger, half the result of jocose bravado, half of genuine and justifiable vanity. it went very well with the suggestions of his high cavalry boots, his clanking sword, and his jingling spurs. his somewhat broad ruddy face had the merit of a sidelong glance of great archness, delivered from a pair of vivacious hazel eyes, and he twirled his handsome, long, dark mustache with the air of a conqueror at the very mention of a pretty girl.
"i can tell you more about judge roscoe's family than fluellen baynell ever will," ashley declared gayly. "so ask me what you want to know, mark, and don't intrude on nellie's finical delicacy."
throughout the campaign colonel ashley's squadrons had coöperated with baynell's artillery. the officers had come to know and respect each other well in the stress of danger and mutual dependence. it may be doubted whether any other man alive could with impunity have called fluellen baynell "nellie."
baynell was in full uniform, splendidly mounted, awaiting the hour appointed, and now and again casting his eye on the camp "street" at some[pg 20] distance, the stable precincts all a turmoil of hurrying drivers and artillerymen harnessing horses and adjusting accoutrements, while a continuous hum of voices, jangling of metal, and tramping of steeds came on the air. he withdrew his attention with an effort.
"why, what do you want me to tell?" he demanded sarcastically;—"what they had for supper?"
"no—no—but just be neighborly. for sheer curiosity i want to know his daughter's name," persisted the lieutenant of infantry.
"judge roscoe has no daughter," replied baynell.
"his granddaughter, then."
"his granddaughters are children—i have forgotten their names."
"well, who is that young lady there?—a beauty of beauties. i caught a glimpse of her at the window the day we pitched our camp in the peach orchard over there."
"she is the most beautiful girl i have ever seen," solemnly declared ashley, who had artistic proclivities. "i never saw a face like that—such chiselling, so perfect—unless it were some fine antique cameo. it has the contour, the lines, the dignity, of a diana! and her hair is really exquisite! who is she, fluellen?"
baynell was conscious of the constraint very perceptible in his voice as he replied, "she is judge roscoe's niece, mrs. gwynn."
[pg 21]ashley stared. "mrs.! why, she doesn't look twenty years old!" then, with sudden illumination, "why—that must be the 'widder 'oman!'" with an unctuous imitation of old ephraim's elocution. "i am surprised. mrs. gwynn! 'de widder 'oman!'" he broke off to laugh at a sudden recollection.
"i wish you could have heard old janus's account of his effort to clean the knives to suit her. she seems to be in command of the commissariat up there. the old darkey came into camp, searching for the methods of polishing metals that the soldiers use for their accoutrements. 'brilliancy without labor,' was uncle ephraim's desideratum. i gave him some rotten-stone. his sketch of how the judgment day would overtake him still polishing knives for the 'widder 'oman' was worth hearing."
baynell would not have so considered it—thus far apart were the friends in prejudice and temperament. yet there was no derogation in the simple gossip. to the campaigners the roscoe household was but the temporary incident of the mental landscape, and the confidential bit of criticism and comment served only to make conversation and pass the time.
all of vertnor ashley's traits were on a broad scale, genial and open. he had the best opinion imaginable of himself, and somehow the world shared it—so ingratiating was his joviality. his very defects were obviated and went for[pg 22] naught. although, being only of middle height, his tendency to portliness threatened the grace of his proportions, he was esteemed a fine figure and a handsome man. he made a brave show in the saddle, and was a magnificent presentment of a horseman. he was a poor drill; his discipline was lax, for he dearly loved popularity and fostered this incense to his vanity. he was adored in his regiment, and he never put foot in stirrup to ride in or out of camp that even this casual appearance was not cheered to the echo. "that must be vert ashley, or a rabbit!" was a usual speculation upon the sound of sudden shouting, for the opportunity to chase a rabbit was a precious break in the monotony of the life of the rank and file.
baynell's coming and going, on the contrary, was greeted with no demonstration. he was a rigid disciplinarian. he exacted every capacity for work that the men possessed, and his battery was one of the most efficient of the horse artillery in the service. but when it came to the test of battle, the cannoneers could not shout loud and long enough. they were sure of fine execution and yet of careful avoidance of the reckless sacrifice of their lives and the capture of their guns, often returning, indeed, from action, covered with glory, having lost not one man, not so much as a sponge-staff. so fine an officer could well dispense with the arts that fostered popularity and ministered to vanity.[pg 23] thus the slightest peccadillo made the offender and the wooden horse acquaint.
none of baynell's qualities were of the jovial order. he was a martinet, a technical expert in the science of gunnery, a stern and martial leader of men. his mind was an orderly assimilation of valuable information, his consciousness a repelling exclusive assortment of sensitive fibres. he had a high and exacting moral sense, and his pride of many various kinds passed all bounds. he listened with aghast dismay to the story of mrs. gwynn's unhappy married life that ashley rehearsed,—the ordinary gossip of the day, to be heard everywhere,—and then a discussion took place as to whether or not the horse that killed her husband were the vicious charger now ridden by the colonel of a certain regiment.
"it couldn't be," said ashley, "that happened nearly a year ago."
this talk hung on for a long time, as it seemed to baynell. yet he did not welcome its conclusion, for a greater source of irritation was to come.
"but now that you have a footing there, fluellen, i want you to introduce me," said colonel ashley, who was a person of consideration in high and select circles at home, and spoke easily from the vantage-ground of an acknowledged social position. "i should be glad to meet mrs. gwynn. i never saw any one whose appearance so impressed me."
[pg 24]"take me with you when you two call," the lieutenant, all unprescient, interjected casually. the next moment he was flushing angrily, for, impossible as it seemed, baynell was declining in set terms.
"my footing there would not justify me in asking to introduce my friends," he said. "i should be afraid of a refusal."
ashley, too, cast a swift, indignant glance upon him. then, "i'll risk it," he said easily; for ill-humor with him was "about face" so suddenly that it was hardly to be recognized.
baynell showed a stiff distaste for the persistence, but maintained his position.
"judge roscoe made it plain that it was only for the sake of his friendship with my father that he offered any civility to me—no concession politically. my status as an officer of the 'yankee army' is an offence and a stumbling-block to him."
"bless his fire-eating soul! i don't want to convert him from his treason. i desire only to call on the lady."
"i myself could not call on mrs. gwynn," protested baynell. "she hardly spoke a word to me."
"it will be quite sufficient for her to listen to me," laughed ashley.
"she took only the most casual notice of my presence—barely to give me a cup of tea."
"now, baynell," said the lieutenant, exceedingly[pg 25] wroth. "i want you to understand that i take this very ill of you."
he was a tall, spare young fellow, with light, straight brown hair, a light-brown mustache, and a keen, excitable blue eye, which showed well-opened and alert from under the dark brim of his cap as he looked upward, still standing at the side of baynell's restive horse. "i think it a very poor return for similar courtesy. i took you with me to call on miss fisher—and—"
"this is a very different case. i, personally, am not on terms with mrs. gwynn. besides, she is very different from miss fisher, who entertains general society. mrs. gwynn is a widow—in deep mourning."
"but it is told in gath that widows are not usually inconsolable," suggested ashley, with a brightening of his arch eyes, and still laughing it off.
"i am much affronted, captain baynell," declared the irascible lieutenant. "i consider this personal. and i will get even with you for this!"
"and i will get an introduction to mrs. gwynn without your kind offices," declared ashley, with a jocular imitation of their young friend's indignant manner.
"i shall be very happy if you can meet her in any appropriate way. it is not appropriate for me, cognizant of their ardent rebel sympathies and intense antagonism to the union cause and[pg 26] antipathy to all its supporters, to ask to introduce my friends of the invading 'yankee army,'" baynell replied with stiff hauteur.
just then the bugle sang out, its mandatory, clear, golden tones lifting into the sunshine with such a full buoyant effect that it was like the very spirit of martial courage transmuted into sound. baynell instantly put his horse into motion, and rode off through the brilliant air and the sparse shadows of the budding trees. his blond hair and mustache, gilded by the sunlight, had as decorative an effect as his gold lace; his blue eyes glittered with a stern, vigilant light; his face was flushed, something unusual, for he was wont to be pale, and his erect, imposing, soldierly figure sat his spirited young charger with the firmness of a centaur. the eyes of all the group followed him, several commenting on his handsome appearance, his fine bearing, his splendid horse, and his great value as an officer.
"he is an admirable fellow," declared dr. grindley, a surgeon on his way to the hospital hard by. he had paused at a little distance, and had not heard the conversation.
"if he were not such a prig," ashley assented dubiously. "such an uncompromising stickler on trifles! any other man in the world would have slurred the matter over, and never kept the promise of the introduction. if inconvenient or undesirable, he might have postponed the call indefinitely."
[pg 27]"he is a most confounded prig," said lieutenant seymour, in great irritation.
"baynell must have everything out—to the bitter end," said ashley.
"i'd like to break his head! i'd like to break his face—with my fist," exclaimed the lieutenant, petulantly, clenching his hand again and again. he detailed the tenor of the conversation to the surgeon as the group watched the manœuvring battery. "isn't that a dog-in-the-manger-ish trick, dr. grindley? he wants to keep his roscoes to himself. mrs. gwynn won't speak to him, and so he wants nobody else to go there whom she might speak to!"
baynell, still uncomfortably conscious of the rancor he had roused, had taken his position in the centre, just the regulation twelve paces in front of the leading horses, with the music four paces distant from the right of the first gun. as the sound blared out gayly on the crisp, clear, vernal breeze, the glittering ranks, every soldier mounted on a strong, fresh steed, moved forward swiftly, with the gun-carriages and caissons each drawn by a team of six horses. the air was full of the tramp of hoofs and the clangor of heavy, revolving wheels, ever and anon punctuated by the sharp monition, "obstacle!" as one of the giant oaks of the grove intervened and the direction of the march of a piece was obliqued. the efficiency of the battery was very evident. the drill was almost perfect, despite the difficulty of[pg 28] manœuvring among the trees. but when the ranks passed from the grove they swept like a whirlwind over the open spaces of the adjoining pasture-lands, the whole battery swinging here and there in sharp turns, never losing the prescribed intervals of the relative distance of squads, and guns, and caissons—all like some single intricate piece of connected mechanism, impossible of disassociation in its several parts. ever and anon the clear tenor tones of the captain rang out with a trumpet-like effect, and the refrain of the subalterns and non-commissioned officers commanding the sections followed in their various clamors, while the great whirling congeries of horses and men and wheels and guns obeyed the sound like some automatic creation of the ingenuity of man. once the surgeon bent an attentive ear.
"by sections—break from the right to march to left!" called the commander, with a sudden "catch" in the tones.
"caissons forward! trot! march!" came from a different voice.
"section forward, guide left!" thundered a basso profundo.
"march!" cried the captain, sharply.
"march!" came the subaltern's echo.
as the moving panorama turned and wheeled and shifted, the surgeon commented in a spirit of forecast:—
"if that fellow doesn't pay some attention to[pg 29] his bronchial tubes, they will pay some attention to him, and that promptly."
so promptly indeed was this prophecy verified that within the next few days old ephraim, who purveyed all the news of the period to the remote secluded country house, informed judge roscoe that captain baynell was seriously ill with bronchitis and threatened with pneumonia. in order to have indoor protection and treatment he was to be removed as soon as possible to the hospital near the town. judge roscoe verified this rumor upon hastening to camp, and with hospitable warmth he invited the son of his old schoolmate to sojourn instead in his house; for in the college days to which he was fond of recurring he had been taken into the home of the elder fluellen baynell, and nursed by his friend's mother through a typhoid attack. to repay the obligation thus was peculiarly acceptable to a man of his type. but baynell hardly heeded the detail of the hospitable precedent. he needed no persuasion, and thereafter he seemed more than ever lapsed in the serenities of the storm centre, ensconced in one of the great square upper bedrooms, with the spare furnishing of heavy mahogany that gave an idea of so much space, the order of the day when the plethora of decoration, the "cosy corner," the wall pocket, the "art drapery," the crowded knickknackery, did not obtain. for more than a week baynell could not rise; the surgeon visited him at regular intervals, and judge roscoe[pg 30] appeared unfailingly each morning in the sick room; but the rest of the family remained invisible, and held unsympathetically aloof.
this was a shrewd loss to ashley, for although he had called at first with genuine anxiety as to his friend's state, the humors of the situation appealed to him as time wore on, and he recollected with the enhanced interest of enforced idleness his boast that he would compass an introduction to mrs. gwynn, despite baynell's stiff refusal. seymour still resented the circumstance so seriously that he had withheld all manifestations of sympathy or concern, and this, the kind ashley considered, carried the matter much too far. he thought it might effect a general reconciliation if he should meet mrs. gwynn by accident, when he fancied he would not fear to introduce any one whom he considered fit for good society. thus, after he had ceased to be apprehensive concerning baynell's condition, he called on him again and again, but hearing never a light footfall on the stair or the flutter of flounces that might promise a realization of his quest. he was all unconscious that his project had an unwitting ally in judge roscoe himself. for more than once judge roscoe was uncomfortably visited by hospitable monitions.
"i should have liked to ask colonel ashley to dine with us," he said tentatively to mrs. gwynn. "he was leaving the house just as the meal was being served. old ephraim—confound the old[pg 31] fellow—has no sort of tact. he brought in the soup to captain baynell with colonel ashley sitting by the bedside! it was indeed a hint to beat a retreat. i was—i was mortified. i was really mortified not to ask him to stay."
"heavens, uncle gerald!—what are you dreaming about? ask people to dine, and no trained servant to wait on the table—and this china—and the ladies in their pinafores!" and mrs. gwynn glanced scoffingly around the domestic board, for the place had once been famous for the elegance of its entertainments; but the balls, the "wine suppers," the formal late dinners of many courses, had come to an end with the conclusion of the period of prosperity, and the perfectly trained service had vanished with the vanishing butler and his corps of assistants whom he himself had rigorously drilled in the school of the pantry, in strict accordance with old traditions.
"well, we have better china," said the judge, inexorably. "and the pinafores don't grow on the ladies; we have excellent precedent for believing they can be dispensed with."
mrs. gwynn fixed him with a resolute eye. "i don't intend to have the ladies taken from their studies in the forenoon to dress for company and distract their minds with fascinating gentlemen. besides it is too great a compliment to receive an absolute stranger informally, as one of ourselves,—as we treat captain baynell,—and it is almost[pg 32] impossible to entertain colonel ashley otherwise. you forget that we have no trained servants. and i am not going to trust the handling of my aunt's beautiful old sèvres dinner set to our inexperienced factotum—oh, the idea! it makes me shudder to think of the nicks and smashings. it ought to be kept intact for julius's wife when he takes one, or for clarence's if he should ever marry again. a stray yankee officer isn't sufficient justification for risking it."
"he has called so often, and has been so kind to captain baynell."
"well, so have i been kind to captain baynell, and here am i eating on the everyday china—no sèvres for me! and i am going to be kinder still, for he is allowed to have some dessert to-day, and i have spread this tray with mine own hands."
she touched a call-bell, and, as old janus appeared, "take this tray upstairs to captain baynell," she said, as she transferred it, "be careful—don't tilt it so!" then, as the old servant left the room, she resumed, addressing judge roscoe: "you can sentimentalize about your precious captain baynell, if you like, on the score of old friendship. i can appreciate the claims of old friendship, especially as he has been so ill, and possibly was better off here than at the hospital. but to go in generally for entertaining yankee officers,—and all our near and dear out yonder in those cold wet trenches, half[pg 33] starved, and ragged, and wounded, and dying,—indeed, no! for my own part, i couldn't be induced to spread a board for another one, except at the point of the bayonet."
"colonel ashley don't wear no bayonet," interposed adelaide, glibly.
"he's got him a sword," acceded geraldine.
"a long sword, clickety-clank," suggested the first "lady."
"clickety, clickety-clank," echoed the other, with brightening eyes.
"don't eat with your fingers—nor the spoon; take the fork." mrs. gwynn's admonitory aside was hardly an interruption.
"that is a very narrow view, leonora," the judge contended. "there can be no parity between the fervor of convictions on the issues of a great national question and merely human predilections as between individuals. patriotism is not license for rancor. i have shown my devotion to the southern cause. i have risked the lives of my dear, dear sons. i have expended much in its interests; i have endangered and lost my fortune. the future of all i hold dear is in jeopardy in many aspects. but i do not feel bound for that reason to hate individually every fellow-creature who has opposite convictions, to which he has a right, and takes up arms to sustain them."
"well—i do! being a woman, and having no reasoning capacities, there is no necessity for[pg 34] me to be logical on the subject. i feel what i feel, without qualification. and i know what i know without either legal proof or ocular demonstration. you are welcome to your intellect, uncle gerald! much good may it do you! intuition is enough for me. meantime the sèvres is safe on the shelves."
beaten from the field as judge roscoe must needs be when his vaunted ratiocination was no available weapon, he held stanchly nevertheless to his own opinion, helpless though he was in the domestic administration. he adopted such measures as were practicable to comport with his own view. flattered by ashley's interest in baynell and recognizant of the frequency of his visits, never dreaming that a glimpse of mrs. gwynn was their ultimate object, he took occasion to offer him such slight courtesies as opportunity presented.
one day when they were descending the stairs judge roscoe chanced to comment on the fine bouquet of a certain choice old wine. he still hoarded a few costly bottles of an ancient importation, and with a sudden thought he insisted on pausing in the library to take a glass and finish a discussion happily begun by the invalid's bedside. the room was vacant, as the colonel's keen glance swiftly assured him, and the judge's order for wine was inaugurated through the bell-cord, which jangling summons old ephraim answered somewhat procrastinatingly.[pg 35] the expression of surprise in the old darkey's eyes, even admonitory dissuasion, as he hearkened to the demand, very definitely nettled the judge and secretly amused ashley, who divined the old servitor's doubts as to gaining the permission of "de widder 'oman." the host was more relieved than he cared to acknowledge to himself when the factotum presently reappeared, bearing a tray, with the old-fashioned red-and-white bohemian wine-glasses and decanter which contained the rare vintage, and he felt with a sigh that he was still supreme in his own house, despite the sway of mrs. gwynn. he recognized the more gratefully, however, her influence in the perfection of the service and the solemnly careful, preternaturally watchful step of old ephraim, as he bore about the delicate glass with all the effect of treading on eggs,—finally depositing it on the table and withdrawing at his habitual plunging gait.
although ashley dawdled as he listened and sipped his wine languorously, no rustle of draperies rewarded his attentive ear, no graceful presence gladdened his expectant eye. and when at last he could linger no longer, he took up his hope even as he had laid it down, in the expectation of a luckier day.
"come again, my dear sir, whenever you can. i am always glad to see you, and your presence cheers captain baynell. his father was my dearest friend. i felt his death as if he had been[pg 36] a brother. i have grown greatly attached to his son, who closely resembles him. anything you can do for captain baynell i appreciate as a personal favor. come again! come again soon!"
perhaps if colonel ashley had not been so bereft of the normal interests of life, in this interval of inactivity, his curiosity as to that fleeting glimpse of a beautiful woman might not have maintained its whetted edge. perhaps constantly recurrent disappointment roused his persistence. he came again and yet again, and still he saw no member of the family save judge roscoe. even the surgeon commented. "there is a considerable feminine garrison up there," he said one day; "i often hear mention of the ladies, but they never make a sally. i suspect the old judge is more of a fire-eater than he shows nowadays, for his womenfolks are evidently straight-out 'secesh'!"
