# My Lady of the South/Chapter 18

CHAPTER XVIII
AT THE FIREPLACE
THERE was no time to organize for defence, or hesitate as to action. I saw that mob of frightened men crowding the hall, some armed, others weaponless, their laces blanched with terror, not a few bleeding from wounds. Bullets crashed into the door; there were veils without, and the sound of feet on the porch.
"Into the rooms, men, and return the fire from the windows," I commanded sharply. "Lively now, but lie low, so as not to get hit. We can beat them back before they break in. O'Brien, take charge at the right—take a squad with you. Here, you fellows, come with me."
They were veteran soldiers, and the decisive voice of command was all they needed. I saw O'Brien dive into the black parlor, a dozen troopers following, and I leaped through the open library door, blowing out the light upon the table, then flinging myself on the floor as I crept to the front windows. How many were with me I was unable to determine, yet I could hear them as they stumbled forward through the darkness. Nor were we in position a moment too soon, already hands without were wrenching at the shutter, and the butt of a carbine sent a shower of shattered glass into my face. There was a dim figure visible and I fired, the fellow ​staggering back with an oath, his gun clattering on the porch. There followed a sharp spitting of carbines on either side, the fellows shooting recklessly, the light of discharge revealing retreating figures without, the heavy smoke choking us in the ill-ventilated room. I made myself heard above the uproar.
"Hold your fire, men; they have left the porch."
I peered out through the broken glass, but could perceive nothing except a dead body.
"How many rounds have you?"
"Forty, sir," a voice answered to my right.
"Good enough; keep your carbines loaded, and watch sharp, but don't fire unless you see something to shoot at. Any non-com here?"
"I am a corporal, sir."
"What name?"
"Masterson, Troop D, Third Ohio."
"Crawl around and post two men at each window; send the others to me in the hall. You remain here and take command, while I look after the rest of the house. You understand, Corporal?"
"Yes, sir; you men sing out your names."
The responses came through the darkness, and the Corporal made choice instantly: "I'll keep Pratt, Stevens, Williamson, Craig, Jones, and Watt. You other men go with the Leftenant."
They were still firing in the parlor, the flashes of the guns giving me a glimpse of the room as I peered in through the door, but the smoke was so thick I could distinguish little.
​"Are you there, O'Brien?"
"I am, sor."
"What are you firing at?"
"Damn if I know, sor, only there was a heap of Johnnies outside whin we begun the racket. Wan or two of the boys got hit, sor."
"Sorry to hear that; have the wounded brought out into the hall; but first make your men stop shooting until they see something to aim at. We may need all our ammunition before we're done with this job. How large is your squad?"
"About a dozen, I reckon."
Keep six of them, and post two at each window. If they see anything move, fire at it. Send the others to me."
An occasional shot, fired apparently from some distance, chugged against the front door, but as this was of solid oak, little damage was being done, and there was no need for extinguishing the dim light still burning at the rear of the hall. I found just inside the door the bodies of two dead soldiers, and four men wounded, one so seriously so as to be helpless. As their comrades crawled forth from the rooms on either side, I counted fourteen fit for duty. This number should prove sufficient for the defence of the lower story, and I hastily assigned them, two by two, to points where it seemed to me they might prove most useful, giving them careful instruction, and making them realize their lives depended on vigilance. The house stood high above the ground that few of the windows were accessible from ​without, and, if those engaged in the defence kept close to the floor, they were in little danger of being struck by stray bullets.
Satisfied at last that every point of vantage was occupied, I returned to the front hall, and, encouraged by the stillness without, detailed Masterson and O'Brien at attending to the wounded, with whatever materials they could find at hand. For the first time since the crash of that opening volley, I now had a moment for reflection, and sat down on the stairs, my mind busied in an endeavor to comprehend the situation. Those who had attacked us would be either Dunn's squad of Confederates, or Donald's irregulars, perhaps both. If the two commands were united they might be in sufficient force to keep us busy; anyway a sortie would be impracticable before daylight. Dunn, of course, would have merely a handful of men with him, as he anticipated no more serious duty than the guarding of a single prisoner; but the number of Donald's guerillas in the neighborhood could not be guessed, and, if they had rallied in any numbers, our besiegers might easily outnumber us two to one. Besides, they would be seasoned fighters, familiar with the ground, knowing all the tricks of night raiding. To be sure a delay until daylight might greatly increase the number of the enemy, as the scattered irregulars were drawn in, yet my own men would work with greater confidence when they could see the force opposing them. Besides, we were well protected here, with sufficient ammunition for a stubborn defence, and doubtless good enough in the house to sustain us for a day or two.
​If Dunn was in command without I did not anticipate anything in the nature of a reckless attack. Nothing I had yet seen of Calvert Dunn had impressed me with either his courage or his capacity; and the almost total cessation of firing told of weakness either in numbers or command. It seemed to me an energetic leadership would have stormed the house before we could have arranged for its defence. I drew my breath quickly, suddenly possessed by a new fear. What about Big Donald? What about the secret passage? If he had escaped, got safe away, it would put a new face on everything. There would be no question as to the fierceness of the fighting if he commanded yonder. He was a different stamp of man from the Staff Lieutenant. What would he do first? Try a flank movement, endeavoring to take us in the rear, by means of the secret passage? The silence without, the sudden cessation of open attack in front, immediately became ominous, as this thought occurred to me. Here was the real danger, the important point for defence. But where could I seek? My only scrap of knowledge was that Donald had entered by way of the second story, and he had departed up the stairs. The entrance, then, must be above. There was a light still burning at the head of the circular staircase, but I could distinguish no sound, no indication of movement. Yet a moment of delay might cost us dear.
"O'Brien!"
He was wrapping a strip of cloth tightly about a wounded arm, but he stopped, glancing back at me across his shoulder.
​"Yis, sor."
"Who did you leave in command in the parlor?"
"A young fellow be the name of Summers, sor; he seemed to loike foightin'."
"Well, let Masterson finish that nursing job, and come with me. Bring your gun along."
We mounted to the top of the staircase, seeing and hearing nothing. Both back and front of the upper hallway were in shadow, and I paused a moment while briefly explaining to my companion the nature of our errand. His keen eyes peered back and forth as he listened.
"It's most loikely to be connected with the foireplace yonder, sor," he volunteered, pointing straight ahead.
"So it seems to me," I admitted, "but we shall have to go over every inch of this floor to be certain. You go back there and stand guard while I rummage through the rooms."
It was not a pleasant task, the doors all being tightly closed, and the rooms in darkness. Besides, the two young women were probably in hiding there somewhere, unless Miss Jean had accompanied Donald and escaped from the house. Yet I hardly thought that probable, for the latter had ample time to enter the passage before the girl had left me in the lower hall. However, the thought of her caused me to rap at each door before venturing to open it, although such warning added to my own peril if any armed enemy was lurking within. And as to that I could not know. Donald might still be in the house, yet I had less fear of his resistance than of sudden, murderous attack by the mysterious assassin who ​had already taken two lives and escaped unseen. Yet, revolver in hand, determined to search every nook and corner. I began with the front chambers, sounding their walls, testing their ﬂoors, and feeling my way about until convinced I had left no inch unexplored. Miss Dunn was in the third room visited, calling out in hysterical voice to my rap, begging to know what I wanted, yet urging me to leave her alone. She was so thoroughly frightened that, after ﬁnding her door locked, I endeavored to reassure her through the keyhole, but heard nothing in return but the girl's sobs. Satisfied that she was alone, I left her to her misery.
I searched two other rooms, including the one wherein I had found Navarre's body. This I knew was Jean's chamber, yet I was in no way surprised at not discovering her there, as the memory of the murder would be sufficient to keep her from venturing within. Yet everything I touched reminded me of her, especially the various accessories to a lady’s toilet on the dressing table, and the numerous garments hanging in the closet. However, I found nothing disturbed, and no evidence that any one had been there since the removal of the Lieutenant's body. My heart was beating rapidly as I came forth once more into the hall, and tried the door of the apartment opposite. It was locked, and I rapped softly. There was a rustle within, and Jean's voice:
"Who is it?"
"Lieutenant King. Will you speak with me a moment?"
I heard the lock turn, the door open creakingly, and ​she stood before me, her face calm, but her eyes troubled. Scarcely knowing what to say, I hesitated, and she broke out with a swift question:
"What is it? What has happened? You have been fighting below?"
"Yes, Miss Denslow, but nothing which need alarm you. Affairs have changed very rapidly, but you can remain here in perfect safety. The Federal troop of cavalry which came to my assistance were suddenly fired on by parties concealed in the shrubbery. We lost a number of men, but the survivors succeeded in getting into the house, and have driven their assailants back. Just now it is quiet on both sides, but the truce is probably not lasting."
"What soldiers came to aid you?"
"A troop of Ohio Cavalry, under guidance of one of my scouts."
"Not—not Bill Daniels?" Her eyes were dark with horror, and for the first time I realized that she shared with me the belief that this man was responsible for the many horrors of the night.
"No, he was not with them," I assured her, clasping her hand in sudden desire to give comfort. "He is now in the Federal lines, and has not been here at all. Whoever the murderer may be, he is not Daniels."
"Are you sure?"
"Absolutely so; my other scout, O'Brien, who is on guard yonder, asserts that Daniels was never out of his sight until after they returned to camp. He is a simple-hearted Irish lad, and, I believe, speaks the truth."
​She looked from my face down in the hall to where the lad was barely visible amid the far shadows, her hand still within mine, as if she clung to me unconsciously. Then her eyes came back questioningly to my own.
"What—what is he doing there?"
"Merely watching the hall while I search the rooms."
I could see the doubt in the blue-gray depths of her eyes, while her hand dropped from mine, and the lines of her mouth hardened.
"Search the rooms? Why should you search the rooms?"
"Because we cannot afford to be taken by surprise from the rear. I am hunting for the secret passage."
"Is—is that why you stationed him way back there?"
The question was innocent enough, natural enough, yet it instantly awoke my suspicion. She knew now where that entrance was. She may not have known before, but now she did. Donald must have still been in the hall when she came up stairs, and he had been compelled to reveal to her his means of escape from the house. And we must have guessed right, for it was O'Brien's position which alarmed her. Perhaps I could surprise the girl into a partial confession.
"I stationed him there," I said quietly, "because I believe that fireplace hides the secret. And now we are going to find out."
An instant I thought the shot had carried home, but only an instant. Then her eyes smiled, almost mockingly.
​"That is very bright of you, I am sure, but really I think you are mistaken. Have you searched all the rooms?"
"All except those to the rear."
"I have never looked into those myself," she confessed. "May I go with you? Truly, I am as anxious to uncover this mysterious passage as you are."
She laid her hand upon my sleeve, yet I clung to my first suspicion, determined now to be satisfied with nothing less than a thorough examination of the fireplace.
"Certainly, you may go with me," I answered carelessly. "But the rooms can wait; that big chimney looks to me the more promising."
Convinced by the expression on her face, not only that she knew the truth but that I was upon the right trail, I started toward the rear of the hall, never glancing behind, yet aware that Miss Jean was following. In appearance it was a strange, old-fashioned fireplace, nothing more; large enough to contain a great back log, and overshadowed by a huge mantel. The opening was concealed by an iron fire-screen, leaving nothing visible to arouse suspicion, yet the apparent size of the chimney, and that such a fireplace should be located here upon the second floor, appeared sufficiently odd to merit close attention.
"Have you heard or seen anything, O'Brien?" I asked, as I came up.
"Not a thing, sor," his eyes on the girl, "only the wind. There's a powerful dhraft blowin' up the chimney."
​"No doubt; it is large enough to contain a hurricane. Lay hold of the screen, and let us see what it looks like inside."
He leaned his carbine against the wall, and grasped what appeared to be the handle of the iron sheet. It failed to yield to his effort, and I laid hold with him, thinking it was probably caught in some manner. We tugged together, but the thing was immovable. Surprised, I bent forward, striving in the dim light to discover the cause, and running my hand along the edge. Instantly I comprehended; the screen was bolted fast. I stepped back, convinced we had at last uncovered the secret, and turned my face toward Miss Denslow. She stood motionless covering us both with O'Brien's levelled carbine.