# My Lady of the South/Chapter 32

CHAPTER XXXII
THE FIGHT IN THE CABIN
HAD we been given a minute more we would have made it. Running almost shoulder to shoulder, recklessly, not even pausing to glance backward, we were within a hundred feet of the weeds, when horsemen swept about the end of the big tobacco barn, firing as they came, and spurring their mounts desperately in an attempt to head us off. The impossibility of escape in that direction was instantly evident; capture seemed inevitable, yet the sound of those spitting carbines merely served to inspire me with the spirit of resistance. Undoubtedly the end would prove the same, but I meant to fight it out, to do all the damage possible.
"The first cabin, O'Brien! we can make that before they turn."
It was nip and tuck, the surprised troopers wheeling their horses as though on pivots, and digging in the spurs in a mad endeavor to get between us and our haven. O'Brien fell once, tripped, or shot, I know not, but was instantly upon his feet again. I was first over the threshold, stumbling as I made it, and falling forward on the puncheon floor. A rain of bullets crashed into the opposite wall, and, as I struggled to my knees, I caught a glimpse of the circling horsemen without, and of ​O'Brien crouching beside the door, hi, carbine working viciously. It was all instantaneous, and I rolled over, kicked the heavy oaken door shut, and dropped the bar into its socket. There was little doubt as to the end; hut now, at least, we had a breathing spell, a few moments of protection. A quick glance about gave me a plan of defence.
"That's a double door, O'Brien: loosen the upper half, and use your gun through the opening. Keep down so they can't get you. I'll dig a hole between the logs on the other side."
I turned, fishing a knife out of my pocket. It was a single-room cabin, its only window boarded up, so very little light found entrance. A few pieces of rude furniture were jumbled up at the farther end, but I barely noticed these, for, with my first step, I came face to face with a woman, fronting me with gun in hand. She was tall, angular, poorly dressed, her features sharp, her hair a wisp, her eyes burning into mine. The encounter was so sudden and unexpected that I recoiled, dropping my knife, and gripping at the revolver.
"Who be yer—Yanks?" The question seemed to come from between clinched teeth.
"Yes," I acknowledged, realizing the uselessness of denial "Who are you?"
"It don't make no difference who we-uns be. Who's them fellers after yer?"
"Rebs, of course."
"Donald's outfit?"
​"I expect so—either his guerillas, or Dunn's Cavalry."
"Thin ye kin count us in, Yank. Git out, Daniel, an' kiver thet winder."
A boy of thirteen, sallow and thin, with stooped shoulders, but firm-set jaw, crawled out from the bed, and, long rifle in hand, clambered up to where he could peer through between the boards. Quickly he pushed the brown barrel out, sighted along it, and pulled the trigger.
"Thet's one of 'em, ma," he said rather wearily, expectorating tobacco juice on the floor.
"Keep 'em a movin', Daniel. Benjamin, whar be ye?"
"Yere, ma."
"Wal, git out 'long with thet jigger et ther door. Gol dern yer, move!"
She caught him by one ear, a younger edition of the same lanky type, and landed him in the centre of the floor, where he stood rubbing his head with one hand, but clinging to a gun with the other. The woman's disgust burst all control.
"Wake up, you!" and she cuffed him. "Benjamin Daniels, ef I hev ter speak agin thar's goin' ter be trouble."
Rubbing his eyes with the sleeve of his shirt, the lad shuffled over toward O'Brien. His head barely topped the closed half of the door, across which he shoved his rifle barrel. I began to understand the ​situation, to appreciate these new recruits. Woman and children then had been brought up in the atmosphere of war, and were not to be despised as allies.
"You are Maria Daniels, I imagine?"
"I reckon I am, stranger," one hand on her hip, and chin advanced. "Do yer know Bill?"
"Yes, he belongs to my command, that's his scouting partner yonder."
"Thet red-headed little whiffet?"
I nodded, wondering at the sudden silence without.
"Say, Mister," she burst forth, "whar is Bill? We-uns ain't got no house no more, fer it's burnt down. One o' the Talcott boys said Bill was over this-a-way, an' so we hoofed it yere las' night, but I ain't seen nary thing but Johnnies since, till yer two hellions bust in. If Bill be 'round these yere parts he better be lookin' after me an' ther kids, or thar's a right smart chance o' his losin' us."
"Your husband is in the neighborhood somewhere, Mrs. Daniels," I hastened to say, eager to get busy on the defence of the cabin. "I saw him less than half an hour ago in the house yonder. He left by way of a secret passage. He had heard of your plight, and was seeking you. He even went to Donald to learn the truth."
"Bill did? Ter Jem Donald? Stranger, ye're a blame liar!"
I stepped back, the fierceness of her face startling me
"But, Mrs. Daniels—"
"They're a-coomin', sor!" sang out O'Brien, and ​there was a sharp barking of guns, the cabin filling with powder smoke. What followed was all confusion, only here and there a distinct impression remaining on my memory. I was at the door with one leap, staring out revolver in hand. Men were running toward us on foot, yelling and firing as they came. Amid the smoke clouds I could distinguish their forms, but not their faces, yet directly in front, were a number bunched together, and bearing, slung between them, a huge timber. Their purpose was evident: here was the battering-ram to break down the door; one blow from this would render further defence impossible.
"Those fellows with the log!" I cried. "Drop them! never mind the others."
We poured a volley directly into the bunch, and three fell, the front end of the timber striking the ground. From every side the fire aimed at the cabin converged to the opening where we stood. Bullets crashed into the lower half of the door, and whistled past us to find lodgment in the further wall. O'Brien swore, and went stumbling backward; Daniels's youngest had a livid mark across his forehead and sank to the floor, his face in his hands. Maria grabbed his gun and let drive beside me. I could hear the deep barks of the older lad's rifle through the crack in the window. To attempt resisting the force attacking us was madness; but, back beyond the halted rammers, I caught a glimpse of Dunn, urging the men forward. The sight of the fellow robbed me of all judgment, left me reckless and desperate. He was beyond range of my revolver, but I emptied it into the ​faces of those nearer. For the moment our concentrated fire staggered them, but there were too many out there to be held back long by so small a force. As we exhausted our loads, they sprang confidently forward, a dozen flinging aside their guns to grasp anew the fallen timber. Then, with a yell, they rushed us. Only half ready we fired blindly, scarcely able to see through the smoke. With a crash the end of the timber struck, splintering the boards and tearing the lower half of the door from its fastenings.
The woman was flung backward, her rifle discharging as she fell, and I sprang aside, tripping over the boy, and striking against something which rendered me for the instant helpless. Yet I managed to reach my knees, and fired twice at the dim figures leaping toward me through the smoke: then I went down, grappled by a dozen hands, but struggling desperately until pinned to the floor.
The hubbub ceased, the roar and shouting, the rattle of guns: the smoke blew out of the door in a cloud, and, although my eyes smarted painfully, I could yet perceive my surroundings. The elder Daniels boy was backed into a corner, the black muzzle of a gun at his breast; the younger lay on the floor apparently unconscious; O'Brien was just getting up, his clothes in rags from the fierce struggle, while Maria sat on the bed, gun still in hand, glaring about her, but without a shot left. A fellow struck my arm a numbing blow causing the revolver to drop to the floor. I had seen nothing of Dunn during that fierce rush, but now he stood ​fronting me, sword in hand, and eyes gleaming in triumph.
"Surrender, you dirty Yankee spy," he shouted. "We've got you this time."
In my excitement I laughed at the fellow, despising the cowardice of his words, and scarcely realizing the power he possessed.
"All right, Lieutenant," I returned, holding out my hands, "this happens to be your turn."
"Yes, it is, and I know how to take it. You'll not have another chance to get away. Munn, you and Corbett tie that fellow. He's caught red-handed, and it won't require even a court martial to condemn him."
The two cavalrymen strapped me up, until I lay like a log on the ﬂoor, yet the full significance of this did not burst upon me until their work had been accomplished, and I again caught sight of Dunn’s face.
"What does this mean?" I insisted indignantly. "Am I not to be treated as a prisoner of war?"
"You'll be treated for what you are. You've done the work of a spy, and you end as a spy."
"But I am not one, and you know it. I came here as a scout in uniform. I have made no attempt whatever to assume disguise: I am in uniform now."
He laughed sneeringly, turning contemptuously away.
"That might be accepted at headquarters if you ever got there, King, but I mean to see you don't have any opportunity to escape so easily. You've had your turn: now it's mine."
I shut my teeth tightly, not even yet believing him in ​earnest, but feeling the utter uselessness of resistance. If he was the senior officer present, as was quite probable, he, at least, possessed power to carry out his threat, and it would be an act of supreme foolishness to anger him further. That he was by disposition mean, spiteful, and cowardly I had ample reason to know; now he possessed means for revenge without danger to himself.
"Lieutenant Dunn," I called after him, "I might think you in earnest if you were not a soldier, but I cannot believe this of a Confederate officer. As you say, I have had my turn, and now it is yours, but surely, I have acted honorably, and have reason to expect the same honorable treatment from you."
He stood facing me, his lips parted so as to exhibit a row of teeth beneath the black moustache.
"Connors," he said sharply, making no pretence at replying to me, "any prisoners badly hurt?"
The man addressed, a Sergeant, straightened up from where he knelt on the floor.
"Only this boy, sir; I think he's got a fracture of the skull."
"Have them all put into the next cabin, and let Franklin dress their wounds; he knows something about surgery. Keep that fellow here under strong guard, and watch over him yourself. He's a Yankee spy, Connors, and we'll not trouble to take him back to camp."
Without even looking at me, he passed out through the door, and I lay there on my side, watching the Sergeant oversee the removal of the others. Maria and the older boy were apparently unhurt, but O'Brien had to ​be supported by two of the men, while the younger lad was swung in a blanket. After they had disappeared, five troopers remained, lounging in the doorway, with guns in hand, and the Sergeant took time to come over and examine my fastenings. He was a sturdy-looking fellow, with a coarse face, but rather pleasant eyes.
"Your Lieutenant is something of a joker, is n't he?" I questioned, still doubting the earnestness of the threat.
"Not that ever I heard about," he returned gruffly, "I've suspected him of most everything else, but never of that."
"You mean he really intends to hang me?"
"I reckon he does."
"But see here, Sergeant, I am no spy. I am here in uniform, and have fought you face to face. Surely you men will never take part in such a deed?"
He spat into one corner of the cabin, his face expressionless.
"We all are soldiers," he replie' finally, "an' I reckon what the Lieutenant says goes. Far as I'm consarned, stranger, a Yank's a Yank, and I'm willin' ter string 'em all up, if them's the orders. The boys mostly feels like that. If the Lieutenant is in airnest, an' I reckon he is, ye better be gittin' that last will an' testament o' yours fixed up, fer we're due back in camp by night-fall."