“Kin you bar smotherin’ for a spell? If you kin, git under de ole straw tick, and lie right still and flat, and you, Hal, buckle into marsr’s place, as if ’twas you who’ve been lyin’ here all the time.”
Tom did not hesitate a moment, and had just straightened himself under the straw bed, and drawn a long breath as he felt Harry’s body settling down above him, when steps were heard coming down the path, and a young man’s voice asked of Hetty if she had any strangers there—“any Yankees, you know; because if you have—” the young man paused a moment and peered out into the night to make sure that no one was listening, then, in a whisper, he added, “Keep them safe, and remember, Fleetfoot knows all the passes of the mountains between here and Tennessee.”
A suppressed “thank God!” might almost have been heard beneath the straw bed, while old Hetty exclaimed,
“The Lord bless Mars’r Arthur, and Miss Maude, too! I know it is her doins.”
And Hetty was right, for Tom Carleton owed his escape from that great peril, to Maude De Vere rather than to Lieutenant Arthur. “When the order was given to search the negro quarters, Arthur had seen that in Maude’s face which constrained him to follow her when she beckoned to him to come out upon the piazza.
“Arthur,” she said, putting her lips to his ear, “remember the kind treatment you received from your enemies, and be merciful. Don’t let them find him, for there is a Yankee soldier down in Hetty’s cabin. She told me to-night. Search her house yourself. Throw them off the track. Anything to mislead them. Be merciful. Do it, Arthur, for my sake.”
Always beautiful, Maude De Vere was dazzlingly so now, as she stood before the young officer pleading for Tom Carleton, and Arthur Tunbridge was more influenced by her beauty, than by any party feelings. Assuming a fierce, determined manner, he went back to the pursuers and said,
“It’s perfectly preposterous that one of those Unionists should come here for protection, when it is well known what we are. Still it may be. There’s no piece of effrontery they are not capable of. I know them well, just as I knew every nook and corner of the negro cabins. Stay here, gentlemen, and take some refreshment while I search the quarters myself.”
Arthur Tunbridge wore a lieutenant’s uniform. He had been in the army from the very first; he had fought in many a battle; had been a prisoner for four months, while his father was known to be a staunch secessionist, who was ready to sacrifice all he had for the success of the cause he believed to be so just and righteous. There could be no cheating in such a family as this, and so, while Maude De Vere wore her most winning smile, and with her own hands served cake and coffee to the soldiers, Lieutenant Arthur went on his tour of investigation, and brought back word that not a trace of a runaway had he found, notwithstanding that every cabin on the premises had been visited. A savage oath was the answer to this report, but something in Maude’s eyes kept the soldiers in check and made them tolerably civil, as they mounted their horses, and with a respectful good-night, rode off in an opposite direction.
With a feeling of security after hearing from Hetty of Maude De Vere, Tom came out from his hiding-place and ventured to the open door of the cabin, where he stood looking at the “big house” on the hill, from which the guests were just departing. He could hear their voices as they said good night, and fancied he could detect the clear, well-bred tones of Maude De Vere, in whom he began to feel so deeply interested. He could see the flutter of her white dress as she stood against a pillar of the piazza, with Arthur at her side, but her back was toward him, and he could only see her well shaped head, which sat so erect and proudly upon her shoulders. She was very tall, Tom thought, comparing her with Mary, Annie, and petite Rose as she walked across the piazza with Arthur, who, from comparison seemed the shorter of the two. Profoundly grateful to her as his probable deliverer, Tom went back into the cabin and began to question Hetty with regard to the young lady. Who was she, and where did she live, and how came she so strong a Unionist?