"Never mind, Mr. Agent," broke in Harrod, impatiently; "when are they due?"
"Coffee"s ordered for 12.30. Reckon they"ll be along very soon," replied the nettled functionary.
"What say you, Brandon? Shall we try it?"
"Most a.s.suredly; and I think it can be done."
Four pairs of anxious, eager eyes watched that train of "damyankees" as it came rushing into the station sharp at 12.30. A crowd of sullen-looking "white trash" had gathered, a larger knot of curious and eager darkies, to see the sight. The engine whizzed past the platform; then two pa.s.senger-cars, from every window of which protruded blue-capped, dust-begrimed soldier heads; sentries stood at the doors, and only as the last car--a third pa.s.senger-car--came opposite us did the train stop. A sharp, business-like young fellow, in dust-covered fatigue dress with infantry shoulder-straps and cap, sprang out.
"That coffee ready?" he asked, bounding at the agent at once.
"Wall, I s"pose so," drawled the party addressed, as though desirous of giving all the annoyance he could.
"If you want your money you"d better know, and lively too. We"ve no time to waste. Tumble out here, Sergeant Triggs. Bring six men while this party is waking up."
Then as his men went into the kitchen to bring out the steaming caldrons, I asked if I could see the commanding officer on immediate and important business.
"Certainly, sir; rear car. Come this way."
We followed him, Harrod and I; found the forward half of the third car filled, as were the other two, with the rank and file. At the rear end were half a dozen sleepy, dusty, and disgusted-looking gentlemen.
"This is Major Williams, sir," said the business-like youngster, and in an instant he was out on the platform again.
A tall, dust-colored officer rose to meet my extended card and hand, mild surprise in his eyes. "Major," said I, "Major Vinton, of the cavalry, lies dangerously ill in New Orleans. He is engaged to the sister of my friend, Colonel Summers. No train leaves here until nine to-night, and in our eagerness to get to Vinton before it be too late we ask to be taken with you."
For an instant the commanding officer was staggered by my impetuous harangue, but "he rallied."
"Major Vinton, say you? I"m distressed to hear it. I know him well by reputation, though it has not been my good fortune to meet him. We--we must find some way----Excuse me, let me speak one instant with the quartermaster."
He quickly stepped to a bulky, stolid-looking youth, and addressed him in few rapid words. The whistle blew,--my heart stood still. He sprang to a window, stuck out his head, and shouted,--
"A--a--Mr. _Tur_pin. Stop the train. Don"t start till I tell you."
"All right, sir," came back in the quick, sharp tones we had heard before.
Again the major and the stolid youth met. We heard s.n.a.t.c.hes of the latter"s words,--"no precedent, no authority,"--and my heart again sank.
Like Mr. Perker of blessed memory, I was about to interpose with "But my dear sir, my _dear_ sir," when Mr. Turpin burst in like a thunder-clap at the rear door.
"Jupiter Ammon, fellows! Blow the dust from your eyes if you want to see the prettiest girl in the South!"
"Never mind precedent; we"ll make a precedent," broke in the major, impatiently. "Gentlemen,"--he turned to us,--"you see how forlorn are our surroundings, but you and yours are welcome." The whole thing took less time than it takes to read it.
Harrod sprang for his sister. Mr. Turpin sprang for Kitty. Eager hands seized the bags and traps, shoving them through windows, anywhere, anyhow; and half bewildered, all grateful, all surprise, Pauline and Kitty found themselves aboard, and we were spinning out of inhospitable Corinth.
"Pardon our great haste, ladies," I heard the major saying. "We _must_ be in New Orleans some time in the early morning." The "damyankees" were going to get us there twenty-four hours ahead of any other arrangement we could have made.
Shall I ever forget that almost breathless ride? "Be here to-morrow morning without fail" were the words of the dispatch Major Williams had received at the point where his train left the Louisville road and swung into the rails of the Mobile and Ohio. It was the "longer way round,"--that through Mobile,--but some late experiences had proved it the shorter way home; and, as the conductor presently explained to the major, on entering the car, "I"ve given the engineer orders to jump her for all she"s worth. We only stop for water and pa.s.sing one up-train.
Even the express has to side-track for us."
Then the conductor wiped his hot brow, and with infinite surprise looked first at the ladies just getting settled into the seats eager hands had been dusting and preparing for them, then at me. Then Harrod came quickly to us, and in him he recognized at once Colonel Summers of the Alabama cavalry of by-gone days. With the Free-masonry of old campaigners, they gripped hands before questions of any kind were put.
Harrod promptly explained the situation. "Thanks to these gentlemen, we are permitted to share their car. Of course we settle with you for the fare. But for their kindness we could not have reached New Orleans before late, perhaps too late, to-morrow night."
The conductor turned to the officers: "Major Williams, sir (yes, he did say "sah," and I liked to hear it), I want to thank you in the name of the road for your prompt courtesy to these friends of mine. I had to jump for the telegraph-office myself, and did not see them. You can just bet your life, sir, the Mobile and Ohio shall know of it, and they"ll thank you in a way I"m not empowered to."
And so, whizzing at forty-five miles an hour, Southron and Yank were drawing into the brotherhood of a common sympathy.
And so it went all through that grimy afternoon. With what unremitting thoughtfulness and care those fellows looked after our fair charges! The sanct.i.ty of her grief and anxiety rendered Miss Summers the object of the deepest respect and sympathy. Reclining at the rear of the car, her veil drawn over her face, none but Harrod ventured to approach her; but Kitty was the centre of incessant attention, and through her all manner of improvised delicacies were brought to Pauline. The dust was stifling, and indefatigable Mr. Turpin appeared from somewhere in front with a tin basin filled with cracked ice. The doctor came forward with a silver cup of delicious lemonade (he had levied on his pannier for lime-juice and powdered sugar) dexterously rendered soulful by a dash of Vini Gallici.
Kitty smiled her thanks to both, and a duplicate of the beverage was grateful to her silent cousin. We flew over the rattling rails, and the jarring was incessant. The doctor produced an air-pillow for Pauline"s head. We stopped somewhere for water, and the major disappeared. The ladies had brought luncheon in a large basket--but no appet.i.tes. The soldiers had rations and were filled. The officers had not had a mouthful since a breakfast at 3 A.M., and were hungry. No chance for a bite until 5 P.M., when, said the conductor, they might grab a sandwich at Ragsdale"s, at Meridian. "But we can"t stop three minutes, boys."
Kitty overheard it. She was in animated conversation with a tall subaltern, who claimed to be from Kentucky. They were sitting three seats ahead of Miss Summers, who was undisturbed by their chatter; all voices were subdued as far as was possible. Mr. Turpin, who was a man of few words but vast action, was hovering about, eager for a chance to do something. She knew it. They all seem to have infinite intuition that way.
"Oh, Mr. Turpin, would you please bring me our lunch-basket?" And Turpin was down upon us like his namesake of old, demanding the basket in a manner suggestive of "or your lives." Another second and it was deposited in front of her, and she bade him summon his brotherhood; and they went, even the stolid quartermaster, who felt sheepish apparently.
And there she sat like a little Lady Bountiful, dispensing to each and all (a Southern lunch-basket reminds me of the parable of the loaves and fishes), and they surrounded her, eating and adoring.
At five we rolled into Meridian, and Ragsdale"s sandwiches were forgotten. Major Williams sprang from the train.
"Yes, dear," I heard Harrod saying to his sister, "I will try and send a dispatch from here," and with that he rose. I went with him in search of the telegraph-office. At the door we met the major, some open dispatches in his hand.
"Have we time to send a despatch to New Orleans?" asked Harrod, eagerly.
"Hardly," said the major, with a quiet smile. "But won"t this do?" and he placed in Harrod"s hand one of the papers. The message read:
"Telegram received. a.s.sure Vinton"s friends that fever is less. He receives best care. We are hopeful now.
"REYNOLDS, A.A.G."
"Thank G.o.d!" I uttered.
Summers, with tears starting to his eyes, grasped the soldier"s hand.
"You are a very thoughtful man, sir."
"All aboard!" yelled the conductor. "Get those lamps lit now."
Somehow I was glad it was dusk in the car as we sprang aboard. Harrod, with quick, eager step, went directly to her. Something told her he had news, and she rose, throwing back her veil, and bent eagerly forward. He placed the paper in her hand, and, clutching it, she seemed to devour the contents. Kitty had turned quickly to look. Conversation somehow had ceased. Then we saw her glance one instant up in his face. Then his strong arms were round her, for, burying her face in his breast, she had burst into a pa.s.sion of almost hysterical weeping. Then we all turned away and shook hands. The whole car knew Vinton was better. One soldier up in front wanted to give three cheers, but was promptly suppressed.
Kitty"s own eyes were overflowing as she received the congratulations of the lately banquetted, and with a great load off our hearts we sped onward through the darkness.
Two sweet pictures remain in my memory of that strange night. First was that of Miss Summers and Major Williams. At her request Harrod brought him to her, that she might thank him for the thoughtfulness, the delicate attention he had shown. Her face was exquisite in the revival of hope, in the intensity of grat.i.tude.
The second was about 11 P.M. We had had to make some stops. Our run was now less impeded. It had grown chilly and raw. Coming in from the front, whither I had gone to smoke with the conductor, I found the inmates of the rear of our car apparently buried in slumber, except one figure. Mr.
Turpin, with his blouse collar turned up and his hands in his pockets, was sitting bolt upright. Two seats behind him, her fair hair curling about her rounded cheek, sleeping like a babe after all the fatigues and excitements of the day, but from neck to foot completely enveloped in a cloak of army blue, was Kitty Carrington, our rampant little rebel Kit.
CHAPTER IX.
Early in the morning, earlier even than I had supposed possible, the conductor"s voice was heard announcing to somebody that we would be in New Orleans in less than half an hour. I had been sleeping somewhat uneasily, curled up on one of the seats. I was dimly conscious of the fact that at some unknown hour in the night another telegram had been received referring to Vinton, and that Miss Summers was wide awake when it came. I remember Harrod"s bending over and kissing her, and hearing the words, "That is better yet." Then sleep again overpowered me. Now, at daybreak, I arose and gazed around the dimly-lighted car. Miss Summers, Harrod, and Major Williams were the only occupants apparently astir. The former was sitting near the opened window; the cool, salty breeze from the Gulf was playing with the ripples of fair hair that cl.u.s.tered about her forehead. She looked very white and wan in the uncertain light, but there was a womanly tenderness and sweetness about her face that made it inexpressibly lovely to me. She was gazing wistfully out over the sea of marsh and swamp, as though longing to bridge the distance that still separated us from the city, where he lay battling with that insidious enemy. Harrod and the major were in earnest conversation. Other occupants of the car were beginning to stir uneasily, as though warned that soon they must be up and doing; but Kitty still slept, and the cloak of army blue still covered her. Mr.