“Food I will give, but arms I have none,” replied Joseph.
“More shame for you!” roared the commander of the troop. “If you can’t do any thing more for your country than that, you may as well be killed at once, for a coward, as you are.”
He drew his sword, but Joseph did not wink at the flash of the glittering blade. He looked him calmly in the eye, and said, “If thou art willing to take the crime of murder on thy conscience, I cannot help it. I would not willingly do harm to thee, or to any man.”
The soldier turned away abashed, and putting his sword into the scabbard, he muttered, “Well, give us something to eat, will you?”
The hours that followed were frightful with the light of blazing houses, the crash of musketry, and the screams of women and children flying across the fields. Many took refuge in Joseph’s house, and he did all he could to soothe and strengthen them.
At sunset, he went forth with his serving-men to seek the wounded and the dead. Along the road and among the bushes, mangled bodies were lying in every direction. Those in whom life remained, they brought with all tenderness and consigned to the care of Rachel and Alice; and, as long as they could see, they gathered the dead for burial. In the evening, the captain of the Pikemen returned in great wrath. “This is rather too much,” he exclaimed. “We did’nt spare your house this morning to have it converted into a hospital for the damned Orangemen. Turn out every dog of ’em, or we will burn it down over your heads.”
“I cannot stay thy hand, if thou hast the heart to do it,” mildly replied Joseph. “But I will not desert my fellow-creatures in their great distress. If the time should come when thy party is routed, we will bury thy dead, and nurse thy wounded, as we have done for the Orangemen. I will do good to all parties, and harm to none. Here I take my stand, and thou mayest kill me if thou wilt.”
Again the soldier was arrested by a power he knew not how to resist. Joseph seeing his embarrassment, added: “I put the question to thee as a man of war: Is it manly to persecute women and children? Is it brave to torture the wounded and the dying? Wouldst thou feel easy to think of it in thy dying hour? Let us part in peace, and when thou hast need of a friend, come to me.”
After a brief hesitation, the soldier said, “It would be a happier world if all thought as you do.” Then, calling to his men, he said, “Let us be off, boys. There’s nothing to be done here.”
A fortnight after, triumphant Orangemen came with loud uproar to destroy the houses of the Catholics. It was scarcely day-break, when Alice was roused from uneasy slumbers by the discharge of musketry, and a lurid light on the walls of her room. Starting up, she beheld Colonel Campbell’s house in a blaze. The beautiful statues of the Madonna and the winged children were knocked to pieces, and crushed under the feet of an angry mob. Vines and flowers crisped under the crackling flames, and the beautiful birds from foreign climes fell suffocated in the smoke, or flew forth, frightened, into woods and fields, and perished by cruel hands. In the green lane, once so peaceful and pleasant, ferocious men were scuffling and trampling, shooting and stabbing. Everywhere the grass and the moss were dabbled with blood. Above all the din, were heard the shrill screams of women and children; and the mother of Camillo came flying into Joseph’s house, exclaiming, “Hide me, oh, hide me!” Alice received her in her arms, laid the throbbing head tenderly on her bosom, put back the hair that was falling in wild disorder over her face, and tried to calm her terror with gentle words. Others came pouring in, and no one was refused shelter. To the women of Colonel Campbell’s household Alice relinquished her own little bedroom, the only corner of the house that was not already filled to overflowing. She drew the curtain, that the afflicted ones need not witness the bloody skirmishing in the fields and lane below. But a loud shriek soon recalled her to their side. Mary Campbell had withdrawn the curtain, and seen her husband fall, thrust at by a dozen swords. Fainting-fits and hysterics succeeded each other in quick succession, while Alice and her mother laid her on the bed, and rubbed her hands and bathed her temples. Gradually the sounds of war died away in the distance. Then Joseph and his helpers went forth to gather up the wounded and the dead. Colonel Campbell was found utterly lifeless, and the brook where Camillo used to launch his little boats, was red with his father’s blood. They brought him in tenderly, washed the ghastly wounds, closed the glaring eyes, and left the widow and the household to mourn over him. Late in the night they persuaded her to go to rest; and, when all was still, the weary family fell asleep on the floor; for not a bed was unoccupied.