Brother Against Brother; or, The Tompkins Mystery. Read online

  CHAPTER XXII.

  DIGGS GETS OUT OF HIS SCRAPE AGAIN.

  Mr. Diggs' views, in the cold, dark prison, and through iron bars, of asoldier's life, were very gloomy. The first night of his incarceration,for hours, he tossed about unable to sleep.

  "I am a failure," he moaned, "a miserable failure. I went into the army,intending to rise to be a general, and only got to be a corporal; thentaken prisoner, lost my office, retaken by my own company and treatedcoolly. No chance of promotion, only kicks, cuffs, and bumps all throughthis cruel world. Others have risen to higher positions. There's Abnerand Oleah, both captains. They were never taken prisoner, ducked in acreek, or thrown into a thorn bush; why should I? and now I am to betried by a court-martial as a deserter, and I know I shall be killed."

  "Shut up!" yelled half a dozen fellow prisoners. "Do you intend tosleep, or let any of us sleep to-night?"

  "We're all going to be led out and shot to-morrow," whined Diggs.

  "Well, is that any reason ye should be keepin' us awake all night?"replied one gruff fellow in an adjoining cell. The doors of all thecells were open.

  Diggs was awed into silence by the tones of his companions, and, whilewondering how these men could take their coming fate so coolly, fellasleep. He attributed his own emotions to the possession of finersensibilities than those of his companions.

  "What's to be done with us?" he asked next morning of the soldier whobrought their breakfast.

  "Don't know," was the reply, as that worthy set the breakfast on thestand and departed. Mr. Diggs did not have an excellent appetite.

  "Say, messmate," said a mischievous prisoner, "don't eat too much, forthese Yankees are cannibals, and, when they have fattened theirprisoners, they eat 'em."

  Poor Diggs pushed back his plate, sick at heart, and commenced pacingthe hall in front of his cell. Seeing a soldier on guard duty outside,he went to the grating and called to him:

  "Can I speak to you?"

  "I reckon you can," was the answer.

  "Do you know what's going to become of me?"

  "I think, sir," said the soldier, gravely, "that you will be in h--lbefore morning."

  "Oh! they do really intend to kill me," cried Diggs, and running back tohis cell, he fell upon his knees and tried to pray.

  "If ever I get out of this," he vowed, "I'll be a preacher. I was madefor a preacher."

  "Well, now, who cares if you are?" said a fellow prisoner, roughly, whowas playing cards with three others at the table. "You needn't bedisturbin' honest men, who hev no desire for sich things. Keep yer jawand yer preachin' to yerself!"

  "How can you be so wicked," said Diggs, "to carry on such unholy games,when you know that the judgment awaits you?"

  "Oh, dry up!--I'll pass," said one.

  "Remember, you wicked men, that you have souls to save!" cried Diggs,growing quite warm and earnest in this, his first exhortation.

  "Oh, hush up yer nonsense!--Order him up, Bill," said another.

  "You have souls," persisted Diggs.

  "We've got no such thing!--I'll order you up and play it alone," repliedthe one called Bill.

  "Remember, poor dying sinners, you have souls," Diggs went on.

  "Remember, sir, you have a head," said one of the players, "and if youdon't keep it closed, you'll get it punched."

  Abashed and crestfallen, Diggs again retired to a corner to pray, thistime in silence, and to wonder at the perverseness and wickedness ofthis generation.

  The day passed, the next, the next, and the next without any news fromthe outside world. Diggs asked the soldier, who brought their mealstwice a day, at each visit, what was to be done to him, the soldier oneach occasion answering that he did not know.

  Diggs had grown despondent; his round, red face had become pale andattenuated, and his little gray eyes had lost even their silly twinkle.He thought of all the imprisoned heroes and martyred saints he had everread of; finally he came to imagine himself a hero, and determined that,when he was released, he would write a book on prison life, relating hisown experience. As an author, he certainly would achieve fame. If onlyhe could have pen, ink and paper, he would at once begin the wonderfulproduction, which was to astonish the world. Mr. Diggs thought, if hehimself could not be a hero, he could portray heroes with life-likeeffect. He was half persuaded to become a novelist. He would be apreacher or lawyer, a novelist, any thing in the world but a soldier; hehad had enough of that. As he had not yet been ordered out and shot, Mr.Diggs' hopes began to rise in his breast, and already, he felt halfashamed of the weakness he had displayed.

  On the fifth day after his arrival at the prison, he was called to thedoor. It was not more than ten o'clock in the forenoon. Half a dozensoldiers, headed by a sergeant, were waiting outside the prison. He wasordered to come out, and once more stood in the open air. He was marchedat once to Colonel Holdfast's head-quarters in the Courthouse atSnagtown. Colonel Holdfast, two other Colonels, Major Fleming, andanother officer were sitting in the place, which was occupied by civiljudges in times of peace. An awful silence seemed to pervade thecourt-room, as Mr. Diggs was marched in. A number of soldiers werelounging about on the seats, and several officers were conferring inwhispers. What it meant Mr. Diggs was not long in conjecturing. It wasthe dreadful court-martial. His hopes sunk, his knees knocked together,and his head swam as he was placed before the terrible tribunal. Theorderly placed a seat for him in front of the officers, and he ratherfell into it than sat down.

  "Is your name Patrick Henry Diggs?" said Colonel Holdfast.

  "I--I believe it is," faintly gasped the terrified man.

  "You are charged with having deserted from our army and gone over to theenemy. What have you to say to the charge?" asked the colonel.

  There was no response. Diggs hung his head.

  "What do you say, sir?" demanded the colonel, sharply.

  "N--n--not guilty, your honor."

  "Here is your name on our rolls as having enlisted in my own Company B,Abner Tompkins, captain. Is that true?"

  "I--I--I reckon so."

  Corporal Grimm and Sergeant Swords were called, and both testified thatDiggs had been captured with other rebels in the late encounter; that,when taken, he was armed and fighting in the rebel cause. Uncle DanMartin also testified that he had been present at the capture of Diggs,and that he was in arms for the Southern cause.

  There was no jesting this time. Mr. Diggs found it all serious business.The officers were not long in arriving at a verdict. They retired intoanother room for a few moments' consultation, and returned with theirverdict, which Colonel Holdfast read. It was simply the terrible word:

  "Guilty!"

  "Stand up, prisoner, that sentence may be passed," said the Colonel.

  The prisoner did not move. He had fainted outright on hearing theverdict pronounced. The regimental surgeon was present and administeredrestoratives, and Diggs was held up by two strong soldiers.

  "In view," began the colonel, "of the accumulative and convincingcharacter of the evidence against you, proving you to be a spy, you arecondemned to death."

  "Oh, I knew, I always knew I should be killed!" interrupted Diggs, in afeeble voice.

  "Therefore," went on the colonel, slowly and solemnly, hoping his wordsmight have effect on the listeners and prevent other desertions, "youwill be taken from here to your place of confinement, and there keptuntil this day week, when you will be taken therefrom, led to the fieldnorth of this town, at the hour of ten o'clock in the forenoon, andthere shot until you are dead, and may the Lord have mercy on yoursoul."

  The colonel sat down, and Diggs, again fainting, was carried back,almost insensible, to his prison.

  When Abner heard of the trial and the decision of the court-martial, heendeavored to persuade the officers to reconsider the case, representingto them that Diggs was imbecile in mind and not actually responsible forhis deeds. Irene, hearing with horror that the poor fellow was awaitingexecution, which was hourly approaching, hastened to Snagto
wn to pleadwith the commanding officers in his behalf, and Uncle Dan used hisinfluence, too, for poor Diggs' fate, but argument and entreaty werealike unavailing, the officers declaring that the case was plain, andjustice must be done, and an example made.

  Irene visited poor Diggs in prison and found him on the verge ofdespair. He had wept until his eyes were swollen. He would not eat orsleep, and his abject terror, his want of food and sleep had made him apitiable-looking object. She remained only a few moments, but they werethe only moments of comfort he had known since his sentence was passed,for Irene came to tell him it had been arranged that Captain Tompkinsshould go to Washington to intercede with the President on his behalf.Almost daily Mrs. Williams and Mrs. Jones, who had known Diggs from hisbabyhood, came to visit him. They both had sons in the rebel army, andso could sympathize with poor Diggs. These were the only faces from theoutside world that he saw, except the guard, who were sometimeskind-hearted, allowing him all possible privileges, but often rough andsurly, adding to his misery by coarse taunts and harsh treatment.

  A man with a heart of stone might have felt compassion for Diggs. Thelittle fellow's vanity and boasting were gone. He was humble and meek,and he seldom spoke. Even his fellow prisoners treated him withconsideration, and endeavored to cheer and encourage him. CaptainTompkins obtained leave of absence, went to the Junction, and took thefirst train for Washington. He knew that if he could see the President,a pardon would be obtained, but to secure an interview with thePresident, when the country was in such a condition as it was at thattime, was no easy matter. Days and weeks might elapse and leave himstill waiting for an opportunity. The village pastor found in Diggs aready convert now, but while he professed to have found peace for hissoul, he was by no means anxious to quit this world. Hour after hourdragged slowly by, until the day was gone, and no news from CaptainTompkins. The next day and the next came and passed, the doomed manwaiting anxiously, hour by hour, the captain's return. He had heard ofJames Bird, the hero of Lake Erie, celebrated in song and story, how hehad been condemned to death and pardoned, and how the messenger camebearing the pardon a few seconds too late, even while the smoke of theexecutioner's gun yet hung in the air, and feared that this fate wouldbe his. It was now Wednesday, and the captain had not come and had sentno word. Diggs did nothing but pace his narrow cell--he was closelyconfined--bemoaning his fate and imploring every one, who came to seehim, to save him from his horrible fate, from being cut off in the primeof life. Thursday dawned, and the captain did not come. Even if he didreturn, he might not bring the pardon. It was a day of agony to poorDiggs. To-morrow, that dread to-morrow, he must die. The ministerremained with him most of the day, and Mrs. Jones and Mrs. Williamsstayed with him several hours. Singing and prayers were frequently heardfrom the cell of the condemned man, who, most of the time, crouched inthe corner with his face bowed in his hands.

  The fatal morning dawned. Poor Diggs! despair had seized him. His mostintimate friends would not have recognized that haggard, wild-lookingface. The minister, at his request, came early to his cell, also thesympathizing old ladies, who had passed so many weary hours with him.But the morning hours now seemed to fly. No message or messenger came.The minister looked at his watch. It was only a few minutes before ten.All was silence, save an occasional sob from the prisoner or the oldladies. No one dared speak. The minister sat silently holding his watch,noting the swift flying moments, his lips moving in silent prayer forthe soul of the man, who was soon to appear at the bar of God.

  Ten o'clock came. There was a rattling of keys, a sliding of iron boltsand bars, and the jailer called the name of

  "Patrick Henry Diggs!"

  The minister and all, in the doomed man's cell, bowed for a moment insilence, then the good man lifted up his voice to that God, whom all theuniverse worships, in a prayer for a soul about to take flight.

  Two soldiers entered and supported the prisoner beyond the prison walls,the minister following with the guard.

  The dread place was reached. Sergeant Swords and Corporal Grimm hadcharge of the execution. At the farther extremity of the field was afresh dug grave--a rude coffin beside it--and, standing in line beneathan oak tree, were twelve soldiers with muskets in their hands. The sightwas too much for Diggs and he again fainted. The regimental surgeonadministered restoratives, and the officers in charge advanced toprepare the prisoner for his fate.

  The minister approached Sergeant Swords, asking permission, before thiswas done, to offer a last prayer. It was granted.

  The prayer was long and earnest, appealing to the Ruler of the universe,in universal terms. The minister prayed for the prisoner, he prayed forhis executioners; he prayed for the officers who composed thecourt-martial; he prayed for the soldiers, who were to execute thesentence; he prayed for the army, for both armies, for all the armies inthe world, for all the armies that had been, and for all that might be.Having completely finished up the army business, the preacher commencedon civilians, and prayed, and prayed, and prayed, until both soldiersand officers looked at him and at each other in amazement.

  "Sergeant," whispered Corporal Grimm, "did you ever hear as long aprayer in your life?"

  "No," was the whispered reply. "There! I'll be hanged if he ain't goneback to Moses!"

  The prayer still went on, and on, and on; and the soldiers, tired ofstanding, kneeled; tired of kneeling, sat; tired of sitting, laydown--and still the prayer went on. It was long past high noon, beforethe faltering "Amen!" was pronounced.

  "Ready, fall in!" came the sharp order.

  The men rose from the grass and fell in line, and the sergeant led Diggsover to the coffin by the side of the grave; but Diggs, sobbingpiteously, clung to him with such tenacity that it was difficult for thesergeant to free himself. He finally succeeded, forced him to kneel byhis coffin, put the bandage over his eyes. Just as he stepped away, theclatter of hoofs were heard coming around the bend in the road.

  "Attention!" said the sergeant. "Ready!"

  A loud cry interrupted the order, and a horseman came dashing up thehill.

  "Hold!" said Sergeant Swords. "There comes the captain."

  On, on he came, waving a paper high over his head. The soldiers restedon their guns.

  Abner Tompkins was among them in a minute, and declared the prisonerfree by the authority of _Abraham Lincoln_.

  When released, Diggs sprang to his feet and, in his joy, embraced thepreacher, embraced the officers and would have embraced the soldiers,had not one threateningly pointed his bayonet at him.

  As they returned to the village, all pleased with the happy result,Corporal Grimm, approaching the minister, said:

  "I shall always hereafter be a believer in the saving power of prayer.Praying often and praying _long_, does the work."