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

  CHAPTER XXIV.

  HE IS MY HUSBAND. OH, SPARE HIS LIFE.

  Irene soon discovered that her cries and her struggles were quiteuseless. The strong arm of Oleah held her firmly in the saddle, and thepowerful horse swept steadily on. Night was falling fast, and sheobserved that the country, through which she was passing, was entirelystrange to her; but, judging from their course, they would pass the TwinMountains before morning. Looking appealingly into the dark, determinedface, she said:

  "Even now it is not too late, Oleah; take me home."

  "Can you not trust me, Irene?" he answered, with a look of tendernessveiling the fire of his black eyes. "You are mine already, because youlove me. No, your lips have not said it, but your eyes have betrayedyou. I am fulfilling an oath, the violation of which would be perjuryand the eternal ruin of my soul."

  "What can you mean?" she cried. "Oh, you are mad, mad!"

  "I have been mad," he answered. "A fire has been raging in my breast,that had almost burned my life away. One word from you would end mytorture. What is the reason that locks your lips!"

  "Is it a proof of your love that you take me from my home to a soldiers'camp, bringing disgrace to me and grief to those to whom I owe more thanlife?"

  "I am taking you to no soldiers' camp. No rude gaze shall fall on yoursweet face, and no rude words reach your ear. You shall sleep safelyto-night within four walls, your companion gentle and kind, and men withstrong arms and brave hearts shall guard the door, each willing andready to lay down his life for yours."

  They rode on over hill and vale, crossed streams and passed throughgrand old forests.

  It was near midnight when they crossed a small, rocky stream andapproached two log cabins that stood at the foot of the Twin Mountains.The moon had risen, and the Autumn night was calm and peaceful. The cryof night birds or the rustling of leaves, stirred by the light breezes,were the only sounds that broke the stillness. The tall mountain peaksin the distance looked like giant sentinels keeping guard over asleeping world.

  A man stood in front of the most comfortable looking of the two cabins,apparently waiting for Oleah and his party. He was dressed in the grayuniform, had a very red head, red whiskers, red eyelashes, red eyebrows,and red freckles on his face. This Irene noticed as he came forward toassist her to alight. The next thing she noticed, was his musket leaningagainst the cabin wall.

  "Is every thing arranged, Jackson?" asked Oleah, as he sprang from thesaddle.

  "Every thing, captain; the cabin is as neat as a pin," and thered-headed soldier lifted his cap, blinking and nodding his head.

  "Did you bring your wife?"

  "Yes, sir; Mrs. Jackson is in the house, sir, and will wait on the younglady," again touching his cap, blinking and nodding his head.

  "You will stay here to-night, Irene," said Oleah.

  She knew that, for the present, she must yield; yet she determined toresist when the time should come. She found a neat, pleasant lookingwoman within the cabin, evidently a mountaineer's wife, and supper readylaid for her. But she was too much agitated to eat, only tasting a cupof fragrant coffee. She noticed that the cabin in which she was confinedbore evidence in more places than one of bullet marks, and rightlyconjectured that there had been a recent fight there, though she littledreamed that she was so near the spot where Crazy Joe had breathed hislast, and that she was beneath the roof that had so long sheltered himand Uncle Dan Martin, the hunter. It was nearly morning when she threwherself on the bed Mrs. Jackson had so carefully prepared for her, andin spite of her strange surroundings, her anxiety, her dark forebodings,she slept soundly.

  Morning came, and she ate Mrs. Jackson's carefully prepared breakfast,assiduously waited on by that pleasant-voiced woman. Irene noticed thatno man entered the room. Mr. Jackson came to the door occasionally, tobring wood or water for his wife, but never entered. From the sound ofvoices without, she knew that there must be a dozen or more men aboutthe house, yet she saw none save the red-headed Mr. Jackson, who wasevidently on his best behavior, and never approached the cabin doorwithout removing his cap.

  Though her comfort was carefully provided for, Irene saw that her everymovement was watched and guarded. There was no possible chance ofescape, surrounded by a guard so vigilant. About the middle of theafternoon, Oleah, who had evidently been away, returned, and with himcame a man dressed in citizen's garb, with a meek face and frightenedair, and the same four cavalrymen who had accompanied them the previousday. The man in citizen's garb, she was sure, must be a prisoner. Oleahapproached the door with the meek-looking, timid stranger, and bothentered. At a motion the four cavalrymen followed.

  "Irene," began Oleah, "it is necessary, in these troublesome times, thatI have the right to protect you. This is a clergyman. We will be marriednow."

  "I will never marry you, Oleah," said Irene, firmly, her beautiful hazeleyes flashing fire on her determined lover.

  Without another word, Oleah forcibly took her right hand in his, then heturned to the clergyman and said:

  "You know your duty, sir; proceed."

  "But, sir, if the young lady is unwilling--if she refuses----"

  "She will not--does not," said Oleah.

  "I do! I do! I do!" cried Irene, struggling to free her hand.

  "Go on, sir!" said Oleah, sternly.

  The four cavalrymen ranged themselves behind their master, and the poorclergyman cast about him one desperate glance, and then, in falteringtones, began the marriage ceremony. Oleah's responses came deep and low,but Irene's "No, no, never!" rang out loud and clear.

  At a sign from the young captain, one of the tall cavalrymen quicklystepped behind her and forced her to bow assent.

  The minister stopped, aghast.

  "Go on, sir; go on!" thundered Oleah, his eyes gleaming.

  The terrified clergyman concluded the ceremony, pronouncing them man andwife, and then, burying his face in his hands, burst into tears.

  Immediately upon conclusion of the marriage ceremony, Oleah obtained acertificate of marriage from the minister, who was then allowed todepart under the escort of the faithful four, and Mrs. Jackson followed,them from the room, leaving Oleah alone with his reluctant bride.

  "Irene, my Irene," said Oleah, in his low, thrilling tones, "this was myonly hope. In peaceful times I might have pressed my suit as othersdo--I might have wooed and waited; but to wait now was to lose you. Willnot my wife forgive me?" he cried, imploringly.

  "This is no marriage--I am not your wife!" said Irene, in a low, steadyvoice. "Leave me! You have forfeited even a brother's claim. No, no; Iwill not listen to you!" she cried desperately, as Oleah came a stepnearer. "You will not leave me, then! You will force me to defendmyself!" As she spoke she snatched a pistol from his belt and leveledthe weapon at his heart.

  Oleah folded his hands. "Fire if you wish," he said calmly. "Death atyour hands is preferable to life without your love."

  She lowered the pistol, the flush faded from her face, her eyes grewmisty with tears.

  "If to love you is a crime, deserving death, then, indeed, you shall bemy executioner; for never did mortal love as I love you."

  She hesitated a moment, then laid the revolver on the table, and sinkinginto a chair burst into tears.

  "Heaven forgive you!" she sobbed, "for the misery you have caused!"

  "It is your forgiveness I want, my darling," he said. "I will leave younow since you bid me. To-morrow you shall be returned to your home, andI will never come to you save at your bidding."

  She did not lift her bowed head. There was a moment's stillness, brokenonly by her sobs. Then Oleah took the pistol from the table, returned itto his belt, and left the room.

  It was scarcely daylight when Uncle Dan ordered every man to the saddle.The drowsy soldiers protested, declaring the music of the crowing cockmade them the more sleepy, but their leader was inexorable. Every manmust be prepared to mount in thirty minutes. Breakfast over, they filedout of the barnyard, while the darkness of the night still ho
vered inthe shadows of the thick forest. Uncle Dan had not deemed it prudent toreveal the interview of the night before, and none of the men knew whatdirection they were to take or what was to be their destination.

  When they had reached a clearing in the woods, the men were drawn up ina double circle, and the old scout rode in their midst, and, holding inhis hand his broad-brimmed hat (he would not wear the regimental cap),he addressed them:

  "Now, boys, we're gwine where there will likely be some powder burnt andsome lead scattered about loose. The gal, you heerd about last night, isup near the Twin Mountains, and we've got to get back home to-night. Butthe whole place is alive with guerrillas and bushwhackers and you maybet there'll be some hurting done. I want every man to be prepared andnot to be taken by surprise. Look out for a big bushwhack, and beprepared to shoot at half a second's notice. Keep yer guns in yer handand yer fingers near the locks. That's all, come on!"

  He led the way at a gallop, and the others followed, their horses' hoofsclattering on the frosty ground. The sun was just now rising over theeastern hills, and grass and leaves and bare brown twigs glitteredresplendent in its rays. The country, over which they were passing, wasrough and broken, with occasional bottom lands, covered with giganticforest trees, and the morning air was clear and chilly, as they swept soswiftly through it, close after their veteran commander, who was astriking figure mounted on his powerful bay horse, with the broad brimof his hat turned back from his earnest bronze face. He kept thebridle-rein in the same hand that held his trusty rifle on the pommel ofhis saddle, leaving the other free for any emergency--the emergencymost frequently arising now being the persistent flapping of hishat-brim. The sun was two hours high at least and was fast dissolvingthe crystal covering that glittered above the denuded vegetation, whenthey came to the creek that flowed by the mountain cabins. Just beyondthe creek rose the Twin Mountains, not more than a mile away, and thecabins were within a few hundred yards. They had traveled sixteen milesor thereabout that morning, and men and horses were weary with the roughriding. The creek was thickly fringed with timber, yet retaining theleaves, which the florist had turned from green to brown and gold. UncleDan paused, before the creek was reached, and urged his men to use theirutmost caution, the objects of their search were in two cabins justbeyond the stream.

  "One thing I want ye all to understand," he said, with great concern."That gal, what the rebels took in, is in one of them cabins, and noshot must be fired into 'em for fear o' hurting her. Remember, not ahair o' her head must be touched."

  They halted, and Uncle Dan, with twelve picked men, dismounted andproceeded ahead on foot, while the others remained under cover, until asignal should be given to surround the cabins.

  It happened, that the red-headed rebel, Jackson, had gone to the streamwith two pails to bring water for his wife. A thin skim of ice overlaidthe stream, which Mr. Jackson must break in order to get his water. Notfinding any stick or other implement at hand, he used the bottom of oneof his pails, and the thumping and splashing made so much noise that ourfriend did not hear the footsteps gradually approaching him, and, somuch engaged was he, that he did not observe two men in blue uniformstanding just behind him until he had filled his pails and turned to goto the house.

  Had two ghosts suddenly started up before him, he could not have droppedhis buckets more quickly.

  "Bless me!" gasped Jackson. "Where in the world did you come from?"

  Uncle Dan laid his hand on Jackson's shoulder telling him he was aprisoner.

  "Yes, I kinder expected that for some little time," he answered,looking about in blank astonishment, as the soldiers, one by one, stolenoiselessly from among the thick bushes.

  "Do you belong to that house?" said Uncle Dan, pointing in the directionof the cabins.

  "I did," replied Jackson, bowing politely to the veteran scout, "beforeyou took me in charge."

  "How many men are up there now!" asked Uncle Dan.

  "There are but seven, now, sir."

  "How many women?"

  "Two, sir."

  "Who are they?"

  "My wife, sir, and the wife of Captain Tompkins."

  "Wife of Captain Tompkins! When was he married?"

  "Yesterday, sir."

  "Is Oleah Tompkins your captain?"

  "He is, sir," with a polite bow.

  "Then, sir," said Uncle Dan with vehemence, "all I have to say is, thatyou have a d--d rascal for a captain."

  Mr. Jackson bowed in acknowledgment.

  "Where is Captain Tompkins now?"

  "He went back to the command, sir, but will be here in a few minuteswith more men."

  "The infernal scoundrel!"

  Mr. Jackson bowed politely.

  "Bang!" came a musket-shot, and the ball whistled over the heads of themen grouped on the banks of the stream. The shot came from the directionof the cabins.

  Uncle Dan gave the signal, and the thunder of twenty horses' feet comingdown the hill instantly followed.

  "Two of you stay and guard the prisoner, the rest follow me!" criedUncle Dan, as he started up the hill, closely followed by his entireforce, for every man was anxious to be in at the rescue, and every oneexpected that some one else would guard the prisoner, who, inconsequence, was not guarded at all. Finding himself wholly deserted bythe excited soldiery, Jackson hurried away down the stream. He lookedinjured and neglected, and slunk away, as in shame, from the men who soobstinately avoided his company.

  Uncle Dan never paused in his headlong pursuit of the flying enemyuntil he had reached the door of the cabin. Irene and Mrs. Jackson hadbeen both surprised and terrified by the shouting and the discharge offirearms, but it was not until Uncle Dan stood in the doorway thateither realized that Irene's rescue was the object of the attackingparty.

  With a wild cry, Irene sprang from the cabin into the arms of the oldscout.

  "Uncle Dan, Uncle Dan, take me home! Promise me you will take me home!"she cried as she clung to the veteran.

  "You bet I will, my little angel?" replied the old man, brushing thegathering moisture from his eyes. "How long have you been here?"

  "Night before last I was brought here."

  "Is there any one with you in the cabin?"

  "No one but a poor woman, who is frightened almost to death."

  "Well, wait here till I get my men together, and then I will hear allabout this rascally business."

  When Irene went back into the cabin, it was her turn to comfort hercompanion with assurance of safety, but Mrs. Jackson was in an agony ofdread as to the probable fate of her husband.

  Uncle Dan had no need to recall his men, for they were already returningfrom the useless pursuit of the flying Confederates, who were nowascending the mountain side a mile away.

  When he ordered them to bring up the prisoner, that had been captured atthe creek, the soldiers looked inquiringly one at another; every onedeclared it was the business of some one else to have remained on guard.

  It soon became evident that no one had been left behind to care for thered-headed rebel, and that he had resented this lack of attention bydeparting. Uncle Dan instructed his sergeant to make preparations forimmediate return to Snagtown and then went into the house.

  Mrs. Jackson met him with anxious inquiries if her husband had beenkilled.

  "What kinder man was he--red hair?"

  "Yes, oh yes! Is he dangerously wounded?"

  "And red eyebrows?"

  "Yes, yes, yes! Pray tell me the worst at once."

  "And red eyelashes--long and red?"

  "Yes, oh yes! Pray don't keep me in suspense."

  "And a red face?"

  "Yes, yes!"

  "And was carryin' two buckets for water?"

  "Oh, heavens! Yes. I know he is killed. Tell me where he lays that I mayfind him."

  "Madam," said Uncle Dan, gravely, "that red man made his escape, as wellas all the others."

  The look of blank confusion and joyful amaze that overspread Mrs.Jackson's face was singular to b
ehold. The old scout, having thussummarily disposed of Mrs. Jackson, turned to Irene and drew from herthe relation of all that had happened to her since the evening she hadleft. When she had concluded with her forced marriage, she burst intotears.

  "The rascal!" said Uncle Dan, with energy. "Both a rascal and a fool.Where did he go?" he asked, after a moment's pause.

  "I do not know," said Irene, weeping softly. "He left a few minutesafter, and I have not seen him since."

  "I don't know much about law," said Uncle Dan, after a few minutes'reflection, "but I know that ain't no wedding worth a cent."

  "I did not agree to it, I did not consent, but the clergyman pronouncedus man and wife," sobbed Irene.

  "I don't care if he did, I heard a lawyer once say that marriage was acivil contract, and if any one was induced to marry by fraud, or forcedto marry any one they did not want to, it was no good. Now, although Iaint a lawyer, I know you aint married, unless you want to be."

  Irene still sat sobbing before the fire by the broad fire-place, whichUncle Dan's own hands had built.

  At this moment a soldier looked in and said:

  "The rebs are comin' down the mountains re-enforced."

  "Be quiet, honey, an' I'll see you are protected. Don't leave the cabinunless I tell you to."

  Uncle Dan hastened out, snatching his rifle from the door, as he went,and looked up towards the mountains. Twenty-five or thirtyConfederates, headed by Oleah Tompkins, were riding at a gallop towardthem.

  "They mean business, Uncle Dan," said a young man, who stood by the oldman's side.

  "Yes, an' 'twouldn't s'prise me if some of them git business," repliedthe old man.

  "That is Oleah Tompkins at their head, Uncle Dan. You'll not shoot athim to hit?" said the youthful soldier.

  "I never thought the time would come when I would harm a hair o' hishead, but things air changed now, and as Randolph said about Clay, 'if Isee the devil in his eye, I'll shoot to kill,'" replied Uncle Dan,examining the priming of his rifle.

  "Fall in," commanded Uncle Dan.

  The line was formed.

  "Now wait till I fire an' then follor suit."

  Oleah presented a tempting mark for any rifle, as he approached sofearlessly with his revolver in his right hand. Uncle Dan, though notwithout a twinge of conscience at what he was doing, leveled his deadlyrifle at that head, which, when a child, had so often nestled on hisbreast.

  Uncle Dan was a certain shot at that range, and every step Oleah tookwas bringing him to surer death. Unconscious of his danger, or perfectlyreckless of consequences, the young Confederate urged his powerful blackhorse on. The old man held his heavy rifle in the palm of his righthand, the breech was balanced against his right shoulder, and his aimwas as steady and true as if he were sighting a deer, instead of a humanbeing he had known for years and loved from childhood.

  "The d--d rascal!" he hissed between his clenched teeth. "He's ruinedthe gal, and now he shall die."

  Just as his finger touched the trigger, Irene sprang from the doorwayand struck the rifle from its intended mark. The ball whizzled two feetabove the head of the Confederate captain.

  "What do you mean?" said the old man, turning, in sharp surprise.

  A roar of rifle-shots drowned any reply that Irene might have made.

  Oleah had escaped the deadly bullet of the old scout, but some of themany shots, that immediately followed, struck him. The revolver droppedfrom his hand, his horse reared and plunged in terror, and then bothrider and steed fell, a helpless mass, to the ground.

  Then all eyes were astonished at the sight of a slender figure, withloosened hair streaming in the wind, hastening through the deadly showerof balls to the fallen man's side; and all ears were astonished by herwild cry:

  "Spare, oh, spare his life! _He is my husband!_"