CHAPTER XXIX. THE ALARM—THE MANUSCRIPT.
The fountain gleamed beneath the beams of the Southern moon, gentle ripples stirred the waves on the lake below, and the soft breezes wafted sweetest perfumes through the splendid gardens of Colonel Mortimer. Spring had come—Spring more than beautiful in this tropical clime.
Months had passed since last we saw Colonel Tompkins and his beautiful jailer, who now stand side by side by the splashing fountain. To him these months had seemed like a dream of heaven.
Never did he believe that such surpassing happiness could fall to the lot of any human being. Even now, at times, it did not seem real. When he paused to reflect, he thought it must be some delightful dream, that would pass and take with it all the brightness of life. Could there be on the face of this earth a being so lovely; a mansion, a village, a country so perfectly delightful? Was it not some wild imagination of some artist, that had turned his brain?
No, it was all real. Olivia was not paint and canvas, but flesh and blood; a living reality, though face and form were so beautiful; her voice was sweetest music, and her soul pure as her perfect face. Young as she was, Olivia had had many suitors, but the pale young officer from Virginia, with his handsome, melancholy face, had won her heart. Perhaps it was pity that first stirred her soul—pity for the poor prisoner so far from home and friends; pity for his former sufferings, and admiration for his brave record.
He had apparently succeeded in overcoming the mood that had held him silent and abashed in her presence, for now, as they stand in the pale moonlight and listen to the murmuring fountain, which seems, like their own hearts, to overflow for very gladness, the arm of the young colonel in blue clasps the yielding form of his jailer, and it is he who speaks, and she who listens in silence.
Darkness fell over the lake as they lingered. A light moved over the dark waters. The lovers saw it not. Another light and yet another appeared, first mere luminous points or stars, but gradually growing in size as they approached. No one, certainly not the inhabitants of Bay's End, would have dreamed of a floating battery of steamers crossing that shallow lake.
For days the Union forces had been busy damming up all the outlets of the lake, and the water had been gradually rising, occasioning considerable comment among the inhabitants.
Slowly the lights glided over the dark face of the waters. As they came nearer, they grew in size, and beneath them were defined the hulk of three monster gunboats, sweeping up towards the village. The sentry gave the alarm.
Simultaneously with the alarm came a great blinding flash from one of the monsters of the water; then a ball of fire circled through the air, and an explosion shook the village to its centre. Another, another, and another shell, hurled from the gunboats, came curving through the air and exploded in the streets of the village.
Abner cast a quick glance around, seeking some place of safety for the terrified Olivia. The stone fence that bounded the grounds seemed to offer the most inviting retreat at present. Scarcely had he placed the frightened girl on the opposite side of the wall than a shell exploded in the fountain, tearing the water nymphs to pieces and scattering fragments far and wide; then a solid shot struck the mansion.
At this moment a rocket shot up skyward, leaving a long red tail, from the palmetto and orange groves at the north of the village, and wild cheers went up from a land force on that side. The bombardment from the gunboats ceased.
"What is it, what is it?" cried the terrified girl.
"Don't be frightened," answered Abner. "You will be quite safe here."
"But what is that awful noise? Is the lake blowing up? Is an earthquake coming?"
"No, it is gunboats bombarding the town."
"Then, let us hasten to the house. We shall be killed here," she cried.
"No, no, Olivia, that would not do," he answered, "for they will make the house an especial mark, it being the largest building in the village. Here is the safest place we can find for the present."
The wild yells of land troops, as they advanced on the village, again rose on the air.
The poor girl looked questionably at her companion, speechless with terror.
"They are soldiers, who have come around by land, and are advancing on the village."
"Oh, let me go! I must go home, I must go to my father!"
She struggled wildly in Abner's grasp, for he held her fast.
"Just listen to me one moment, Olivia," he entreated. "Can you not trust me? I tell you truly that the most dangerous place in town is at your father's house. Already a cannon ball has struck it, and if the present sortie is repulsed the cannonade will be instantly resumed, and it will be battered down."
"But my father is there!"
"No, he is in the village, forming his men to meet the attack. This is the only place of safety for you. They will scarcely throw any shells over here, and the fight will be on the other hill."
Bay's End was in a state of confusion. Colonel Mortimer was aroused by the first cannon shot, and was making ready for the attack. The long roll of the drum and the trumpets sounded, and the half-dressed Confederates fell hastily into line. Colonel Mortimer had the three field pieces in his camp turned on the gunboats, and they belched forth fire and smoke at the monsters, making the very earth shake. But their most deadly foe now was the land force, which was coming down in a solid column.
From behind the stone wall Abner could see the old Confederate colonel leading his men to meet them.
The Union forces advanced up the hill with fixed bayonets.
"Fire!" cried Colonel Mortimer.
A roar of fire-arms shook the air, and for a moment caused the advancing line to waver. The fire had but little effect, however. One or two of the soldiers fell, but most of the leaden hail swept over their heads.
"Forward!" commanded a voice among that line of dark blue coats, and they rushed up the hill.
"Fire!" came Colonel Mortimer's command again.
Not more than a dozen guns responded. All had been emptied in the first volley, and the enemy was now almost upon them.
"Stand firm!" cried the brave old colonel, waving his sword in the air. "Don't give way an inch! Shoot them down as they come!"
Drawing his revolver, he commenced firing at the line, and several of his officers followed his example. His men, taking courage, began to reload. The Union forces halted and poured a raking fire into the Confederate ranks. Men fell to the left and to the right of the old colonel, but he was as yet unhurt. About two hundred of his men, having reloaded, poured a destructive fire on the approaching lines, which made them recoil for a moment; but, rallying, they advanced up the hill again and poured three volleys in quick succession into the ranks under the brave old colonel, which settled the fortunes of the day, or night rather, though the moon shone almost as bright as day.
The Confederates fled, pursued by the glittering bayonets of their foes. Colonel Mortimer, with a mere handful of his bravest men, fell back towards his mansion. A detachment of soldiers pursued them and hemmed them in.
"Oh, my father, my father! he will be killed!" cried Olivia, as she saw the soldiers leaping the wall and surrounding the house. She broke away from Abner's restraining hand and ran towards the place, where the two opposing forces had met with clashing and thrusting of bayonets. Abner followed her, but no bird was more fleet than she, as she skimmed over garden and lawn and disappeared behind the house, from whence came the sound of defiant voices and the discharge of fire-arms, but she heeded them not.
When Abner reached the scene of struggle, he found that Colonel Mortimer had been thrown to the ground, and a bayonet glittered at his breast; then he saw a small, white hand thrust the bayonet aside, and Olivia threw herself between the soldier and the prostrate man. Abner sprang to the side of Colonel Mortimer and thrust back the astonished soldier.
"Colonel Mortimer surrenders as a prisoner of war," he cried, in his firm, ringing tones.
"Hold on!" cried the soldier, looking at the newcomer, "I be hanged if here ain't our old colonel. Hurrah, boys, here's Colonel Tompkins!" and the excited soldier, who was no other than Corporal Grimm, took off his cap, and gave three cheers, that were joined in by a hundred more men, who had gathered round.
The village was in possession of the Union forces, and nearly all of Colonel Mortimer's command were prisoners.
It was Abner's own regiment which had stormed the village.
"Well, well, I do declare," said Corporal Grimm, "this finding the colonel is a little romantic, and with a purty girl, too! It reminds me of an incident in my experience with General Preston. Sergeant Swords, did I ever tell you my experience with General Preston?" and Grimm took the long suffering sergeant aside to relate it.
When Abner had told the story of the colonel's kindness toward him, the victors' politeness and kindness towards the old Confederate amply repaid him for the manner in which he had treated their colonel.
Abner was informed by Major Fleming that he was to take immediate command of the regiment.
He instantly ordered Colonel Mortimer paroled and given the freedom of the camp. He whispered to the beautiful, dark-eyed daughter that she need have no fear on her father's account, that he commanded the men, who held him prisoner. She clung to him and asked so sweetly for him to spare her papa that, had he been a monster, he could not have refused.
The night passed away, and daylight dawned before the dead and wounded had been gathered up. Some lay stark and stiff in some gully, ravine, or behind some trees, among the bushes and between the rocks, and it required time to find them.
The next morning a courier reached Abner, with an urgent message from a wounded man, who was dying and wished to see him.
"Who is he?" asked Abner.
"A steward of one of the sutlers, who came on this expedition as cook. He was a colored fellow," answered the messenger.
A look of intense interest came over Abner's face.
"Where is he?" he demanded.
"Follow me and I will show you," said the messenger.
Leaving the affairs, that were engaging his attention, to the management of Major Fleming, Colonel Tompkins hurried away. In one of the lowly huts of the village he found Yellow Steve, the strange negro, lying on a pallet. He had been wounded by a musket ball in the breast, and his life was fast ebbing away. He had but a few hours to live at most, for the wound was such the surgeon pronounced recovery impossible.
"I am dying, colonel," said the negro, "but I thank God that I have seen you at last to give you this." He put his hand in the breast-pocket of his blouse and drew forth a sealed package. "I could not have died without giving you this. I have hunted for you everywhere since you were captured. I have been in almost every camp in the South. I should have been satisfied to give it to your brother Oleah, had he not shown the same haughty spirit of one who has been the cause of his own ruin as well as mine."
Abner noticed that the packet had been much worn, as if it had been carried a long time in some one's pocket. It was addressed, in a very plain but evidently unknown hand, to himself.
"You will understand," said the negro, "the seal is not to be broken, nor the contents examined, until I am dead. I want no one, least of all you, to know my dark secret while there is yet life within this poor body. I have suffered enough during my miserable existence without having your curses heaped upon my dying head."
Abner assured him that the packet should not be opened while he lived, and left, promising to return.
His multifarious duties demanded his attention, and when he returned to the hut Yellow Steve was dead.
It was late that night when Abner found time to return to his head-quarters. He drew his chair close to a lighted lamp, and, breaking the seal of the packet, he drew forth the manuscript and read.