Read Ebook: Trotwood's Monthly Vol. I No. 2 November 1905 by Various Moore John Trotwood Editor

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Ebook has 552 lines and 43279 words, and 12 pages

That was all open--seen of all men. But secretly, silently, painfully--in the depths of his great soul something stirred within him that he told to no man, for he knew not what it was. What it did he knew: "God, it lifts me out o' the clay o' myse'f!"

Never had he been so happy. Ride? He could ride Ajax over a whole regiment. He could lick Johnston's whole army. "An' the cu'is part, Solomon--yer fool--you are wantin' to fight outwardly, but in'ardly you are cryin' all the time."

It hurt him when he saw her. He was sorry when she brought him his meals; he got behind a tree and wept when she left, and in this state he stopped one day and turned white: "God, mebbe it's that thar blin' staggers I've got--that I heur'n so o' fo'ks havin' in the rich valleys." The dreadful blind staggers he had heard of all his life--that never came to those high up in the pure air of the mountain! He was sure they had him.

It was the third day and twilight, and when she came out, bringing his supper, the red ribbon in the white of her gown, her dark eyes above, made him think of the tiger lilies that grew by Telulah. He pretended not to see her and when she blocked his path with a pretty smile and salute, he feigned astonishment:

"Law, but I thort the moon had riz!"

"Oh, you are a poet, Solomon, and a dreadful flatterer," but she laughed in so pleased a way that Solomon swelled up in his great chest and blew deep and long, snorting it out, to loosen the great hurting feeling that was there. Then, too, he had seen Ajax do it with the thunder of battle in his nostrils.

She sat on the stump before him, kicking her slippered heels against the rough bark and watching him so keenly with measuring, wistful eyes.

"Solomon, I have been thinking, and mother and I want you to come in the house and hear my music. You have been so good to us and we are so fond of you." She jumped down, took his hand and led him. It burned him--it made him gasp for breath, yet all he could do was to follow.

And the house--never before had he seen splendor. They had trouble persuading him to step on the rugs and to walk on the carpets. But the sweet-faced, white-haired lady came graciously forward and shook his hand which made him feel better. Then the Angel sat down before something Solomon had never seen and--

They both stood over him ten minutes afterwards, for he was sitting on a sofa weeping:

"'Scuse me--no--no, 'taint my wounded arm--it's that'r thing over thar that's waked up the cat birds in the roderdendrums at home, an' I heurd the water failin' over Telulah an' the wind at midnight in Devil's Gorge, an' I nurver knowed befo' whut little Dinah Mariah had missed bein' a deef-mute an'--so--it sot me ter bellerin' this away."

They were very gentle with him after that, and more gracious, and when the Angel played another piece full of dash and jig and rosened-bow and thunder, he stood it until the blood began to boil under his hair and they found him again in the middle of the floor shouting:

"Hurrah, boys! Lord, but can't he run? Come home, Ajax!" "'Scuse me--'scuse me--Mrs.--Mrs.--Angul--" after he came to himself--"but--but--she plays that thing 'zactly like Ajax runs."

It was the greatest day that had ever come into his life, and when he left to go back to his beat he proclaimed exultingly to the White-haired one that it was "Christmas, an' hog-killin' an' heav'n all rolled into one."

It was twilight when she came out on the lawn, dressed in white with ribbons in her hair. When he turned she had perched herself on her favorite stump and was beckoning him to sit by her. Trembling, weak he obeyed, his great arm touching hers, which thrilled him so that pains shot into his wounds. She was silent, looking at him with the same wistful, doubting eyes of the morning. He had seen them before, in camp, when the boys gambled and their month's pay was at stake, holding a card aloft uncertain whether to cast or not. And how they held him--those eyes of hers with the tragedy in them!

"Whut--like that'r Judas I onct heurn of the time I went to meetin'?" She nodded. It hurt him. "I can't betray--It ain't in me," he said simply.

"So he'p me God, I'll nurver pester him!"

"And when he is ready to go--to try to escape, oh, Solomon, you will stand by us--with Ajax ready?"

He started--he jumped from his seat. "Not Ajax--any critter we got but Ajax."

"Oh, Solomon, they cannot run--it's--it's--Ajax or death for him."

She was weeping, her head on his great shoulder, clinging to his arm, the perfume of her hair going into the soul of him like the odor of wild grape blossoms after the spring rains in Dingley Dell. "Will you--will you, Solomon; oh, save him for me!"

"So he'p me God, I will--he bein' yo' brother--my brother."

"You are my brother, Solomon--the Brother of Nobility."

Silence. He sat holding her hand as he would Dinah Mariah's. "Will you--er--kiss yo' brother--when he gits here?"

She blushed. "Don't we always kiss our brothers, Solomon?"

He scratched his head thoughtfully. "Awhile ago you made a remark cal'k'lated ter sorter sot me to 'sposin' thet mebbe I mou't also be yo' brother--"

There was a ripple from Telulah Falls, the pressure of lips on his cheek, a whiff of wild grape blossoms in the Dell, a rustle of skirts up the path, and Solomon sat breathing hard in silence.

"Wal, ef lightnin' 'ud only give us notice when an' whur it's goin' ter strike!"

In camp he heard news--strange news. The whole army would strike next day, for they had Johnston with his flank wide open; would bag him if that scout didn't get back through the lines--Captain Coleman, the daring rebel scout. They had him surrounded now in a thicket by the creek, the man they would give a brigade for--he was theirs if the pickets were careful.

Then it all came over Solomon and with it a blow that brought the great strange man to dumbness. "I swore not to betray her--not to be her Judas--oh, God, enny body but thet white-livered, snivelin'--" He heard the flag rustling in the night air. He walked over, crept under the folds, pressing it to his hot cheeks, kissing and fondling it. "Judas! Judas!--oh, my country's colors." He looked across the night to the hills where a thousand camp-fires twinkled in unbroken lines of starry sentinels.

"Ye've got so menny to defen' ye," he said to the flag, "so menny twixt you an' death. An' she--jes' me--jes' me!" He sang low the song that had taken the camp.

"I've seed him in the camp fires of a hunder'd circlin' camps, They have builded him an altar in the evenin' dews an' damps--"

He stopped and looks at the living scene before him--it was all so true. Then lower still:

"He has sounded forth the trumpet thet shall nurver know retreat, He is siftin' out the souls o' men--"

He sprang up with a pain in his heart. "Siftin' out the Judases, an', oh God, I'm a Judas arry way you fix it! Why did you fling me in this heah pit among the wolves o' war--away from my mount'in home--from little Dinah Mariah?"

When Solomon went back to his beat he had slipped out Ajax, saddled, and held him in the clump of orchard trees, near the sweet window where the faint light came out, that he knew shone also over her and her brother. He held his Deckerd proudly, for was he not all that stood between her and death? He swelled with the pride of it and that queer sullen feeling that came over him at times--that savage feeling he could not understand--that made him willing to kill--kill if--

"They'd better not pester her," he growled as he heard the pickets go out for their night's duty.

He heard them moving in the room. Her brother was preparing to go. He peeped and turned away his head. "Somehow it riles me to see her brother kiss her that away." He tapped on the blind saying softly: "Ready--ready."

"O, Solomon," joyfully in a whisper, "bless you; bless you!"

"No Judas in mine, Angul."

He turned, for Ajax had thrust his head over his keeper's shoulder and the man laid his cheek against it and his lips had parted for the pet words which he never uttered; for there was a noise in the dark behind him and two soldiers tried to rush by to the door of the room.

Solomon stopped them with his great Deckerd at port. "Halt fus' an' give the countersign," he said, and he heard the scream of a woman, the hurrying of feet within.

"Stand back, you fool, we are men of the Tenth and we've got Coleman in there."

"Stan' back yerse'f--he's her brother--my brother."

There was a rush at him, into arms which made them think of a mountain bear, for he gathered them to his heart, and the breath of them went out. In the glare of the wide open door a girl stood white-faced with tragedy. A man leaped to the back of a horse and the swaying, struggling group were baptized in a shower of flying gravel. Shots and shouts behind and the scud of a flying horse into the night.

"You damned traitor!" Solomon dropped the two men in the paralysis of the bayonet thrust that sank into his back.

He quivered to the death stroke and turned beseechingly to the man: "Shoot me, quick, brother--in the heart--in the breast--I'm no traitor, no Judas--she'll say I ain't." The man cocked his rifle but the great head with the shock of long hair had gone down and the girl stood between them.

"No--no--not Judas--she'll swear I ain't."

She did not seem to notice them--her beautiful head was turned side-wise listening to the vanishing rhythm of flying hoof beats. "O, Solomon, Solomon; will they catch him?"

"Whut--an' him on Ajax? Ho-ho-oh," and the great chest, schooled to the mountain halloo, echoed it for the last time, like the sound of thunder among the hollow gorges of the hills.

Then joy, great, radiant joy in her face, and with the returning glory of it all--tenderness--tenderness and sorrow for him. "Can I--O, Solomon--can I do anything for you?" She sat by him, her hand on the sweat-damp brow.

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