I remained there, pressed into one corner, unable to move, scarcely venturing to breathe, her skirt brushing my leg, the strands of her hair, loosened by the night wind, almost in my face. She was gazing straight out into the night, utterly unconscious of my presence, so deeply buried in her own trouble that all else seemed as nothing. For a moment she remained motionless, silent; then her hands pressed against her forehead, and her lips gave utterance to a single exclamation:
"Oh, God! I can never, never stand it! What shall I do?"
Perhaps I moved, perhaps some sense of the occult revealed my presence, for she turned swiftly, with a sharp gasp of the breath, and looked straight into my eyes. The recognition was instant, bewildering, a shock which left her speechless, choking back the cry of alarm which rose into her throat. She gripped the rail and stared as though at a ghost.
"Don't cry out," I entreated quickly. "Surely you know whom I am."
"Yes, yes," struggling to regain her voice. "I--know; but why are you here? How long have you been here?"
"It is a story too complex to repeat," I said earnestly, "but I have been here since your father first came--don't blame me, for I couldn't get away."
"Then--then you heard--"
"Yes; I heard everything. I tried not to; I pledge you my word it was all an accident. I was here for another purpose, a military purpose. I did not even know this was your home. I am trapped on this balcony, and dare not attempt to get away--I had to listen. You will believe what I say?"
I was pleading so desperately that she stopped me, one hand grasping my sleeve.
"Yes, of course. I am sure you could never do that purposely. But I do not know what to say, how to explain. You must go at once. Can you not realize my position if you are discovered here? What--what Captain Le Gaire would say?"
"Very easily," my voice insensibly hardening at the memory, "and I should like to remain to meet him, if that were the only danger. No, please stand exactly where you are, Miss Hardy, so as to keep me in the shadow. Thank you. There is a man sitting on a bench yonder just within the orchard. He has been there for the last twenty minutes, and it is his presence which has made it impossible for me to get away. Can I escape in any manner through the house?"
She shook her head, her glance wandering from the lighted room out again into the night.
"No; there is only the one door."
"Who are here besides Le Gaire and your father?"
"A half-dozen officers, two from the Louisiana regiment, the rest belonging to the staff; they are just ending up a feast in the dining-room."
"And is the house under guard?"
She hesitated, looking me now squarely in the eyes, her face clearly revealed as the light from within fell upon it.
"Why do you ask?--for military reasons?"
"No; that is all passed and gone. We came hoping to capture General Johnston, as scouts informed us this was his headquarters for the night. But he is not here, and you will do your cause no harm by telling me all I ask."
"I do not think there are any guards posted," she answered, convinced that I spoke the truth. "I have not been out, but I am sure there are no soldiers about the place, except the officers' servants at the stable with the horses. The general departed before dark, and took his bodyguard with him."
She had no reason to deceive me, and her sincerity was beyond question. This was better than I had dared hope, and instantly a new plan leaped into my mind, the very audacity of which made me gasp. Yet it might work, carried out with sufficient boldness, although only to be resorted to as a last desperate necessity. As I stood there, revolving this new thought swiftly through my mind, the old fear seemed to return to her.
"Did--did you hear--everything?" she asked again.
"I am afraid I did," I confessed humbly, "but I am going to forget."
"No, that is not necessary. I am not sure I am altogether sorry that you overheard."
"But I am--at least, a part of what I overheard struck me rather hard."
"What was that?"
"Your reference to me. Billie, I had been dreaming dreams."
Her eyes dropped, the long lashes shading them.
"But I had previously warned you," she said at last, very soberly. "You knew how impossible such a thought was; you were aware of my engagement."
"Yes, and I also knew Le Gaire. All I hoped for was time, sufficient time for you to discover his character. He is no bug-a-boo to me any longer, nor shall any tie between you keep me from speaking. As I have told you I did not come here expecting to meet you--not even knowing this was your home--yet you have been in my mind all through the night, and what has occurred yonder between you and that fellow has set me free. Do you know what I mean to do?"
"No, of course not; only--"
"Only I must believe what you said about me to him; only I must continue to respect an agreement which has been wrung out of you by threat. I refuse to be bound. I know now the one thing I wanted most to know, Billie--that you do not love him. Oh, you can never make me think that again--"
"Stop!" and she was looking straight at me again. "I shall listen to you no longer, Lieutenant Galesworth. I cannot deny the truth of much which you have said, but it is not generous of you to thus take advantage of what was overheard. It was merely a quarrel, and not to be taken seriously. He is coming back, and--and I am going to marry him."
There was a little catch in her voice, yet she finished the sentence bravely enough, flinging the words at me in open defiance.
"When? To-night?"
"Yes, immediately, as soon as Captain Le Gaire can confer with my father."
I smiled, not wholly at ease, yet confident I knew her struggle.
"You might deceive some one else, Miss Billie," I said quietly, "and perhaps if I were not here this programme might indeed be carried out--I believe Le Gaire is cur enough to insist upon it. But I am here, and you are not going to marry him, unless you tell me with your own lips that you love the man."
She stared into my eyes, as though doubting my sanity.
"Will you consent to say that?"
"I deny your right to even ask."
"Yet I shall take silence as a negative, and act accordingly. No, you will not hate me for it; you may imagine you do for the moment, but the time will come when your heart will thank me for interference, for saving you from a foolish sacrifice. You do not love Le Gaire; you cannot look me in the eyes and say that you do."
"You are impertinent, ungentlemanly. I simply refuse to answer a question you have no right to ask."
"I assume the right in accordance with a law as old as man."
"What law?"
"The law of love," I returned earnestly, "the love of a man for the one woman."
I could see her slight form sway as the full significance of these words came to her; her cheeks flamed, but there was no shadowing of her eyes.
"I am going in, Lieutenant Galesworth," she said finally, drawing back to the open window. "You have forgotten yourself, forgotten the respect due me."
"But I have not, Billie," and in my earnestness I neglected all caution, stepping forward into the full glare of light. "The highest respect is the basis of true love, and, little girl, I love you."
She clung to the frame of the window, rendered speechless by my audacity, struggling with herself.
"Oh, don't say that! I cannot listen; I must not. Believe me, Lieutenant Galesworth, I do not altogether blame you, for I have been indiscreet, foolish. I--I have not meant to be; I merely endeavored to prove kind and friendly, never once dreaming it would come to this. Now it must end, absolutely end; even if you despise me for a heartless coquette, there is no other way. My path is laid out for me, and I must walk in it. It may not be altogether pleasant, but I made my choice, and it is too late now for retreat. I want you to help me, not make it any harder."
"By going away, you mean? By leaving you to be coerced?"
"I was not coerced; it was my own free choice."
We were both so interested as to forget everything except ourselves, utterly oblivious to the situation, or to what was occurring without. My eyes were upon her face, endeavoring to read the real truth, and I knew nothing of the two men at the edge of the orchard. Like a shot out of the night broke in a voice:
"Billie, who is that you have with you?"
I saw her reel against the side of the window, every trace of color deserting her face, her eyes staring down into the darkness. She gasped for breath, yet answered, before a thought flashed through my brain:
"Only a friend, papa. Did you suppose I would consent to remain alone long?"
"Le Gaire said he just left you."
She leaned out over the rail, half concealing me from view.
"Oh, that must have been fifteen minutes ago," and she laughed. "It is never safe to leave me as long as that. You know that, papa, and now I warn Captain Le Gaire."
The older man echoed her laugh, striking his companion lightly on the shoulder.
"I fear the little witch is right, Gerald," he said pleasantly. "Come, we'll go in, and uncover the whole conspiracy."
Their backs were toward us, and she straightened up, grasping me by the hand. She was shaking from head to foot, even her voice trembled.
"You must not be found here, and we have but a moment. Drop to the ground as soon as they turn the corner. Don't hesitate; don't compromise me."
"But what will you tell them?"
"Oh, I do not know--anything that comes into my head. Don't mind me, I'll take care of myself."
"But you will not; that is the whole trouble--if I go now I lose you forever. Billie, let me stay!"
She broke from me, stepping back into the room, yet there was a look in her eyes which made me desperate. She did not love Le Gaire, she despised him. I was certain of that, and more than half convinced her heart was already mine. Should I run from the fight like a coward, sneak away in the night, leaving her to be sacrificed? The very thought sickened me. Better to meet the issue squarely--and I believed I knew how it could be done. I grasped the curtain, drew it down twice in signal, and stepped into the room.
"I am going to take command here now, Billie," I said with new sternness. "All you need to do is obey orders."