The girl sank into a chair and covered her burning face for an instant. Deep in her soul she divined who her rescuer was, yet in the midst of her hope she felt a certain consciousness of guilt and fear. Mr. Baron, Dr. Williams, and the ladies, half-paralyzed, yet drawn by a dreadful fascination, approached the open windows. Mad Whately now played a better part. He was in full uniform and his horse stood saddled without. He went to it, mounted with almost the swiftness of light, and was just in time to see the Federals sweep around the drive which led to the stables. Scoville had brought his little force by the familiar way of Aun' Jinkey's cabin. Furious at being forestalled, and in obedience to a headlong courage which none disputed, Whately's sabre flashed instantly in the rays of the sinking sun, and his command, "Charge!" rang clear, without a second's hesitancy.
The order echoed in the girl's heart and she felt that she had too much at stake not to witness the conflict. Her own high spirit also prompted the act, and in a moment she was out on the veranda. She saw her cousin spur directly toward the leader of the Federals, in whom she recognized the Union scout. His men came galloping after him, but seemed more inclined to envelop and surround the Confederates than to engage in hand-to-hand conflicts. The latter were experienced veterans and quickly recognized that they were being overpowered and that there was no use in throwing away their lives. Hasty shots were fired, a few sabres clashed, but the demand, "Surrender!" heard on all sides, was so well enforced by the aspect of the situation that compliance soon began. Scoville and Whately, with those immediately about them, maintained the conflict. The two young officers were evenly matched as swordsmen, although the Federal was the larger, stronger, and cooler man. As a result, their duel was quickly terminated by the loss of Whately's sabre, wrenched from his hand. Then the point of his foe's weapon threatened his throat, and the word "Surrender!" was thundered in his ears.
Instead of complying, he fell from his horse as if shot, lay still an instant, and then in the confusion of the melee glided through an adjacent basement door and disappeared. Seeing him fall, his mother uttered a wild shriek and gave way to almost hysterical grief. A backward glance revealed to Whately that the fight was lost, or rather that it had been hopeless from the first, and his one thought now was to escape and lead back a larger force for the purposes of both rescue and vengeance. Gaining a rear door, a bound took him to some shrubbery. A second later he was behind the kitchen. Aun' Suke saw him, threw up her hands, and uttered an inarticulate cry. A moment or two more and he was in the stable, leading out a horse. All attention was now so concentrated in front of the mansion that he was not observed. He took only time to slip on a bridle, then springing on the animal's bare back, he struck into a field behind a clump of trees. Putting the horse to a run, he was soon beyond successful pursuit. Some of his own men had seen him fall before they were driven back, and believed that he was either wounded or dead; thronging Federals, unaware of the circumstances, occupied the ground, and only Miss Lou, with an immense burden lifted from her heart, saw his ruse and flight. She wished him well sincerely if he would only leave her to herself. Hastening to Mrs. Whately she speedily restored the lady with assurances of her son's escape, then with her joined the group on the veranda. Mr. Baron, in the crisis of his affairs and as the head of the family, maintained a dignity and composure which of late had been lacking.
Scoville paid no heed to them until every vestige of resistance had ceased and the Confederates were disarmed and collected as prisoners. Then sitting on his horse in front of the piazza steps he rapidly gave his orders. His first act was to send a vedette down the avenue toward the main road; then he selected five men, saying, "Take charge of the stables, barn, and out-buildings. Keep them as they are and permit no one to approach without my written orders."
At this moment the field-hands, who had been surging nearer and nearer, sent forward a sort of improvised deputation. They approached bowing, with hats in hand and wistful looks in their eyes. Were these in truth the messengers of freedom of whom they had heard so much? Mr. Baron almost gnashed his teeth as he witnessed this action on the part of his property.
"Mars'r," said the spokesman, "I reck'n you got good news for we uns."
"Yes, good news. You are all free." His words rang out so that they were heard by every one. Shouts and cries of exultation followed like an echo, and ragged hats were tossed high in joy.
The young soldier raised his hand with a warning and repressive gesture. In the silence that ensued he added, "My men here are both free and white, yet they must obey orders. So must you. Go back to your quarters and prove yourselves worthy of freedom by quiet behavior and honesty. If I find any one, black or white, acting the part of a thief while I am in charge it will go hard with him. The general will be here to-morrow and he will advise you further."
His words found immediate acceptance, the negroes returning to the quarters, laughing and chatting joyously, not a few wiping tears of deep emotion from their eyes. The long-expected day had come. They little knew what the future had in store for them, but this was the beginning of a new era and the fulfilment of a great hope.
Scoville now dismounted and gave the reins to Chunk, who stood near with a droll assumption of soldier-like stiffness and oblivion to all the well-known faces. Mounting the steps, cap in hand, the young officer approached Mr. Baron, who was becoming a little assured that the orders thus far heard had not included a general application of the torch.