I was leaning against the side wall, aware I had been wounded yet scarcely feeling the pain of it, an empty revolver in each hand, blue smoke curling from the muzzles. For the moment I could not comprehend what had actually occurred--that, for the second time, we had driven them; that we still held the house, now fairly encircled by dead bodies. Then the truth dawned, and I gazed almost blindly about on the ruck, and into the faces of the men nearest me. I hardly recognized them, blackened by powder, with here and there a blood stain showing ghastly. The door was crushed in, splintered by the heavy log, the end of which still projected through, and beneath it three men lay motionless. I saw others between where I stood and the stairs, one leaning against the wall, his blood dyeing the carpet, another outstretched upon the steps. All this came to me in a glance, my head reeling; I felt no power to move, no ability to think. Then Miles' voice at my very ear aroused me.
"Are you hurt, Lieutenant? Here, let me see."
I stared at him, and seemed to come back to life again with a start.
"No, nothing serious, Sergeant. The door must have struck me as it fell--my whole left side and arm are numb. We drove them, didn't we?"
"You can bet we did, sir, but my fellows got here just in time. They didn't make much of a fight along my side, so when I heard that door crash we come a-runnin'."
"Oh, it was you then. That's about the last I remember. Where is their reserve? Didn't they come in?"
"I guess not," peering out through the opening. "There's no signs of 'em, so far as I can see, but there ain't no air, an' the smoke hangs close to the ground."
As he said, it was useless endeavoring to perceive what was happening without, the powder smoke clinging to the earth, and hiding everything from view. Yet I realized what must have occurred; the dead bodies in sight proved how severely the assaulting column had suffered, and no doubt the entire force had been disorganized, and sent helter-skelter for safety. Yet they would come back--either they or others. This muss must be cleaned up; this opening closed. After that we could attend our dead and wounded. I gave a dozen swift orders, and Miles instantly took command. The imprisoned bodies were dragged out from underneath the door, the heavy log taken into the hall, the door itself torn from its remaining hinges and forced back into position, the log, one end resting against the stairs, being utilized as a brace. If anything it was now stronger than before for purposes of defence. We had barely completed this work when Mahoney came out into the hall, his head bound up with a blood-soaked rag.
"A foine, lively shindy, Leftenant," he said, grinning amiably. "Bedad, but Oi thought they had us that last toime--Oi did that." He glanced about curiously. "An' ye must hav' had it hot in here too."
"It was hand to hand, Sergeant, and we lost some men--four dead. How did you fare along your side of the house?"
"Three kilt, an' maybe a dozen wounded. Oi got chipped up myself, but only the skin av me. Those lads come up fierce, sorr, an' they'd 'a' made it too, only fer our ravolvers. We must have shot a dozen of 'em right in the winders."
"And the rest of the house--do you know how they came out?"
"Oi do, sorr; Oi've made the rounds. There's one man shot in the kitchen, but nobody got hurted up stairs."
"And our men?" I asked eagerly. "From those upper windows did you see any sign of troops down in the ravine?"
He shook his head.
"Not a domn thing, sorr."
I looked into the faces clustered around us--blackened, savage faces, still marked by the fierce animalism of battle--feeling to the full the desperation of our position.
"Well, lads," I said soberly, "there is no use hiding the truth from you. I know you'll fight to the end, and that won't be long coming, unless help gets here. We can never repulse another assault; we've got eight men killed, and more than that wounded now--the next time we'll all go. What do you say--shall we hold on, hoping?"
"Oi'm fer doin' it, sorr," broke in Mahoney, "an' Oi'm spakin' fer ivery Irishmon in H troop."
"And you, Miles?"
"I'm not so bloomin' fond of a fight, Lieutenant," he said, scratching his head, "but I like to stay fighting after I once get started. Ain't that about the size of it, boys?"
Several heads nodded, and one fellow growled,
"Hell! we kin giv' 'em the same dose a third time."
"I don't expect that, Sims," I returned. "But those other fellows ought to be up any minute now. Anyway we'll have a breathing spell, for the Johnnies must have had enough to last them a few minutes. How is the ammunition?"
"'Bout twenty rounds apiece left."
"Then get to work, men; load up and strengthen every weak spot. We'll put up the best show we can. What did you want, Foster?"
The man addressed, a slim, awkward fellow, his spindle legs conspicuous under the short cavalry jacket, jerked off his cap in embarrassment.
"Why nuthin' much, sir," he stammered. "I ain't no objections to goin' on with the fightin', only if we're so sartain to catch hell it don't seem exactly right fer us to keep that thar young gal here in the house. She ain't no combatant, sir, an' dern me if I don't think she ought to be got outside first."
"Girl! What girl?" I cried, believing I must have misunderstood. "What is it you are trying to say, man?"
The soldier jerked his thumb back over his shoulder.
"The one in thar behind the stairs," he explained slowly. "Tom Ragan he made her go thar when the rumpus begun, an' then Tom he got killed. Ain't that the way of it, Talbot?"
"Sure," chimed in the other. "It is the same one that was in the parlor last night, sir. She don't seem scared, ner nuthin' like that, only Ragan told her she'd got to stay thar. I heard 'em talkin', an' she said she wanted you."
"What did Ragan answer?" now thoroughly aroused to the knowledge this must be Billie.
"He only told her to git right back in thar, an' keep still. It was just as that whole caboodle come tearin' up this las' time, sir. It wan't no safe place fer a girl whar you was. Ragan he promised to tell you, only he got hit 'fore the fracas was done. That's why Foster chirked up, an' that's all of it."
The man had made it clear as far as he understood. There were no more questions to ask him, and I could only hope to uncover the mystery of her presence through the confession of her own lips. She had not gone over to the enemy then; had never left the house; instead, was seeking me. It was all so strange that I stood a moment bewildered, striving to reason the affair out, before attempting to approach the girl. What could have occurred? Where could she have hidden? Why, indeed, had she thus endeavored to conceal herself from both her father and myself? The troopers had scattered in obedience to orders, a few remaining at the openings watchful for any hostile movement without, before I ventured down the hall. It was dark behind the stairs, but she saw me instantly, greeting me with a little cry of delight and a quick outstretching of the hands.
"I am so glad you have come! I--I haven't known what to do."
"If I had supposed you still in the house," I explained, "I should have been with you before."
"But I sent word; I told the soldier it was most important."
"That was Ragan, Miss Billie--a big fellow, with red moustache?--he was killed."
"Killed! Oh, in the attack; yet--yet you still hold the house, do you not?"
"Yes, or I certainly should not be here with you. We have repulsed two assaults, but have lost heavily, and can scarcely hope to come safely through another. Before it is made I must get you away."
"Out of the house, you mean?"
"Yes, and at once. We have made such a spirited defence that when we are finally overpowered there will be little mercy shown. Not even your sex would protect you, even if you were fortunate enough to escape flying bullets. Your father is with Chambers, and, no doubt, the Confederate commander out yonder will forward you to his care. I will take you to him under a flag of truce."
We were out where the light shown upon us dimly, yet sufficiently to reveal expressions. Her face was colorless, but her eyes exhibited no fear.
"Wait, Lieutenant Galesworth," she insisted, still clinging to my hand. "I must understand better, and you must hear first what I have to tell. Why did father leave the house without me?"
"We both believed you had already gone."
"I? That was a strange supposition."
"Not at all; you had disappeared; we could discover no trace of you anywhere. Your father reported that you had overheard all that occurred in the hall below--the arrival of reinforcements, my orders to defend the house, the Federal plan of attack. Major Hardy told you his parole prevented him from reporting this discovery, yet no pledge of honor bound you. What else could I think, but that you had escaped into the Confederate lines with the news?"
She stared into my face, breathing heavily, yet without speaking. Then she released the clasp of my hand, and leaned back against the wall, shading her eyes.
"Do not misunderstand me, Billie," I urged anxiously. "I could never have blamed you. I sent that word to you through your father. You are a daughter of the South, and I honored your loyalty. There was no reason why you should not sacrifice me for the sake of the cause."
"Are you sorry I did not?"
"No, far from it, and--and, Billie, it is not the first time; does it mean--"
"It means nothing," she broke in, "except a strange combination of circumstances. I did think of all this; it came to me in a flash. I realized that it was undoubtedly my duty, and--and, perhaps I should have found courage to attempt the task. I went to my room tempted, my purpose swayed by the call of the South, and--and my friendship for you. I had to be disloyal somewhere, and--and it was so hard to choose. I am glad you do not blame me, but I believe I should have gone, just as you thought I did, except for what happened."
A shell exploded near the corner of the house, shaking the whole structure, the fragments tearing into the wood. She caught me by the arm, and I held her tightly, with face buried on my shoulder.
"We must be quick," I urged. "Those are Federal shells overshooting their mark, but one may strike the house at any moment. Tell me what it was that happened."
"It seems so unreal now," she faltered, her whole form trembling, "that I hardly know how to tell it--yet every word is true. I--I have captured the murderer of Captain Le Gaire."
"You have! Who was he?"
"I cannot tell; I--I haven't even seen the man's face, but--but he is one of your soldiers."
"Impossible! There is not one of our men unaccounted for. I could call every trooper of our first company here now to confront you, except two who have been killed. The fellow does not belong to us."
"Well, he wears your uniform," and she drew back indignantly, "even to having the buttons removed. You must believe me, for I can prove it; I can take you to where he is."
"Where?"
"Down cellar, in the place where you had the Confederate prisoners confined. He--he is locked in there; I held the door against him, and dropped the bar."
I looked at her in speechless wonder, a wonder not untinged by admiration and love. She was standing now, erect, facing me, her cheeks reddening under my direct gaze.
"I am going to make you believe," she insisted. "I will tell you how it happened, and then you shall take some men with you, and go down there, and bring the man up. No, I want to tell you about it first--- please, please listen."
"Would you mind if I call Miles, and then you can tell your story to both of us?" I asked. "The fellow is armed, is he not; and I shall need to take some one along with me?"
"Yes, the man has a revolver. You mean the sergeant? I do not mind telling him."
I hurried back to the front of the house, more anxious to be assured as to what was going on outside than to discover Miles. Yet there was nothing alarming, even the cavalry regiment having been withdrawn across the pike. Without a question the sergeant followed me back to where the girl waited.