The Coward: A Novel of Society and the Field in 1863 Page 3

  CHAPTER II.

  THE COMING OF CARLTON BRAND--ALMOST A PALADIN OF BALAKLAVA--BROTHER AND SISTER--A SPASM OF SHAME--THE CONFESSION--THE COWARD--HOW MARGARET HAYLEY HEARD MANY WORDS NOT INTENDED FOR HER--THE RUPTURE AND THE SEPARATION.

  Not long was the young girl, left at the close of the last chapter bodilyensconced in an easy-chair on the broad piazza, and mentally absorbed inthe attractions of one of the choicest books in Margaret Hayley'scollection, allowed to pursue her reading undisturbed. Not two minutes hadelapsed when a horseman, riding a chestnut horse of handsome appearance andfine action, came rapidly up from the direction of the city, dismountedwith the same practised grace that he had shown when in the saddle, threwthe rein of his horse over one of the posts standing near the gate, openedthat gate and came up the walk, without attracting the attention of theyoung lady on the piazza, or that of any other occupant of the house he wasapproaching.

  Lifting from his brow, as he approached the house, to wipe away the slightmoisture which had gathered there even in riding, the broad-brimmed andlow-crowned hat of light gray, which so well accorded with his loose butwell-fitting suit of the same color, he gave an opportunity for studyingthe whole man, which could not well have been attained under othercircumstances; and both narrator and reader may be excused for stopping himmomentarily in that position, while due examination is made of his moststriking outward peculiarities.

  He was at least five feet eleven inches in height, with a figure ratherslight than stout, but singularly erect, sinewy, and elastic, everymovement giving evidence that the body could not well be set to a taskbeyond its power of endurance. The foot was not very small, butwell-shaped, and the ungloved hand which held his riding-whip was almostfaultless in shape and color. The hat removed, a brow rather broad thanhigh was seen, with a head well balanced in all the intellectual and moralrequirements, densely covered with light, curling hair, of that peculiarshade which the poetical designate as "blonde" and the practical as"sandy." The complexion, though the cheeks were a little browned by thesummer sun, was very fair, and that of the brow as stainless as any pettedgirl's could be. The features were nearly faultless in the Greek severityof their outline, the nose straight and well cut, the mouth small but withfull curved lips, the eyes of hazel, widely set. The lower part of his facewas effectually concealed by a luxuriant full beard and moustache, a fewshades darker than his hair, and showing a propensity to curl on slightprovocation. He was a decidedly handsome man of twenty-eight to thirty,erect, gentlemanly, dignified, and with something in his general appearanceirresistibly reminding the spectator of the traditional appearance of thoseblonde Englishmen of good birth, who seem made to dawdle life away withoutexhibiting one of the sterner qualities of human nature, until deadlydanger shows them to have that cool recklessness of life which charged twohundred years ago with Prince Rupert and ten years ago with poor Nolan. Yetthis was the idea more likely to be formed of him and his capabilities, bystrangers and those who lacked opportunity to examine his face and mannerclosely, than by those intimately acquainted with both; for there was anoccasional nervousness in the movement of the hands, and even of the wholefigure, that to a close observer would have belied the first-assumedself-confidence; and a something drooping, tremulous, and undecided in thelower lip at the corners, was so well matched by a sad and even troubledexpression that often rested like a cloud over the eyes, that the whole manseemed to be made into another self by them.

  Such was Carlton Brand, the brother of Elsie, about whom the tongues of thetwo young girls had wagged so unreservedly but a few minutes before. Suchwas his appearance, to the outward eye, as, hat still in hand, heapproached the piazza. Elsie was sufficiently absorbed in her book, not tofeel his presence; and it was not until he was close upon her that theyoung girl saw him, flung down the costly illustrated volume in her chairwith less care than might have pleased the less impulsive owner, sprang tothe step and seized both the occupied hands of the new-comer, with a warmththat showed how cordial was the affection between brother and sister, sowidely different in appearance and indication of character.

  "How did you come here, pet?" the brother asked, as soon as his mouth wasfree from the kiss his sister tendered.

  "Oh, ran across the fields half an hour ago, and intended to be back homeby this time, only that Margaret was alone and wished me to stay; andbesides----"

  "Well--besides what?"

  "Besides, I almost knew that you would stop _here_ before you went home,and I should see more of you before you went away, by remaining."

  Could the young girl but have seen the quick spasm of agony that just thenpassed over the face of Carlton Brand--the agitation and trembling whichseized upon lip and hands--she might have been wiser the next moment, butshe certainly would not have been happier. Just for that one moment thereseemed to be lack-lustre vacancy in the eyes, total want of self-assertionin face and figure, and the handsome, noble-looking man actually seemed tohave collapsed, bowed, and sunk within himself, so that he was more anobject of pity than of envy. But the sister's eyes were fortunately turnedaway at that instant, and she saw nothing. When she looked at him again,the spasm, whatever it might have been, was gone, and she only saw hisusual self. He did not reply to her last suggestion, but asked, after aninstant of hesitation:

  "Where is Margaret?"

  "Gone down into the kitchen for a few moments, to look after a new Dutchcook, but she will soon return. And so you are really going away, brother,and I shall be so lonesome!" and the hand of the sister sought that of thedearly-loved brother again, as if every moment lost without some touch ofone who was so soon to leave her, was lost indeed.

  Even to this the brother gave no reply, but made a remark with reference tothe rapid ripening of the grain in the wheat-fields that skirted the roadbeyond. A duller wit than that of Elsie Brand might have become aware thathe was avoiding an unpleasant subject; and the young girl recognized thefact, but gave it an entirely erroneous explanation, believing that he musthave heard some peculiarly threatening news from the scene of the invasion,making the peril of the troops about to leave more deadly than it wouldhave been under ordinary circumstances, and that he dreaded to enter uponthe theme at all, for fear of alarming her. As a consequence, her nextwords were a disclaimer of her own fears.

  "Oh, Carlton, you need not be afraid to speak of it to me. Much as I havedreaded your going away, I know, now, that it is your duty, when your ownState is invaded; and I have made up my mind to bear the separation, andeven to think of you, my own dear brother, as in danger, without saying oneword to hold you back."

  "Have you?" That spasm was again upon his face, and the words were hoarse;but again the eye and the ear of the sister missed the recognition of anything unusual.

  "Yes; and so has Margaret."

  "Has she?" The spasm had not gone off his face, and the second question wasasked even more hoarsely than the first. For some reason that the younggirl could not understand, he turned away from her, walked down to the endof the piazza, and stood looking off. What he was suffering at that moment,with three or four of the most powerful passions known to humanity tearingat his heart-strings at once, none may know who have not passed through thesame terrible ordeal which he was then enduring. There were only the fayswho may have been playing among the green grass, and the dryads yetlingering among the whispering leaves of the maples, looking in at the endof the piazza upon his face: had they been human eyes, what of wrestlingand struggle might they not have seen! When he turned to walk back towardsthe spot where his sister was standing in surprise not unmingled withalarm, his face was again calm, but it would have shown, to the observanteye, a calmness like that of despair. His words, too, were forced when theycame:

  "You and Margaret both, Elsie, love me so well, I know, that you would giveup almost any thing to please me; but I do not intend to task either of youtoo far. I am not going--that is, business detains me so that I cannot--Iam not going to Harrisburgh."

  "Business!" Els
ie Brand had never before, in her whole young life, uttereda word so hardly or in a tone so nearly approaching to a sneer, as shespoke the single word at that moment. Were the words of Margaret Hayleyringing in her ear, and did she find some terrible confirmation, now, ofwhat had before been so impossible to believe? "Business!--what business,Carlton, _can_ be sufficient to keep you at home when they seem to need youso much?"

  "What do _you_ know about it?" and _his_ tones were harsh and almostmenacing. "Do we ask you women to decide what we shall do, where we shallgo, and where we shall stay?"

  "Oh, Carlton!" and the cry seemed to come from the very heart of the younggirl. It was perhaps the first harsh word that had ever fallen on her ear,aimed at her from the lips of the brother she so adored. God only knew theagony under which that harsh word had been wrung out, as only he could knowthe agony it might cause! The cry instantly melted the heart to which itappealed. Carlton Brand took the hand of his sister in his own, kissed hertenderly, and said:

  "Forgive me, Elsie, if I spoke as I should never speak to _you_! But you donot know, sometimes, what moves men to harshness which they afterwardsbitterly repent."

  "But you are not going with the regiment?" again she asked.

  "No!--I have told you I was not, Elsie!" and the tone came very near tobeing a harsh one, once more.

  "I am sorry--very sorry, Carlton!"

  "Sorry?" and the often-recurring spasm which again passed over hisfeatures, could not have been unobserved by the young girl, for her ownface seemed to reflect it. "Sorry? Are you indeed sorry that I am not goinginto--that I am not going to be absent from you?"

  "Oh, no, Carlton! heaven knows I am not!" said Elsie, and the merry blueeyes were filled with tears. "But I think you ought to go; and you do notknow, Carlton, how much may hang upon it. Do you love Margaret--really andtruly love her?"

  "Love her? as my own soul!" answered Carlton Brand. He did not say "as hisown _life_"! "Why do you ask, after all that you have known of ourattachment and our engagement?"

  "Because, Carlton"--and the young girl, weeping the while under an impulseof feeling that she could scarcely herself understand, caught him by thearm and drew down his head towards her--"because I believe that if you donot go with the Reserves, Margaret will think that you do not do sobecause--oh, I cannot speak the word!"

  "Because what? Speak it out!" and he seemed to be nerving himself to meetsome shock that was likely to need all his energies.

  "Because"--in a voice very low and broken--"because you are afraid togo--because you are a _coward_!"

  "Has she said as much?" and the eyes of the speaker, very sad, troubled,and almost wild, seemed still to have power to read the very soul of theyoung girl before him. Elsie could not speak at first, but she noddedtwice, and never death-bell of a condemned criminal rung out more clearlyor more frightfully on the startled air, tolling the knell of a last hope,than the whisper that came at last from her lips:

  "Yes!"

  "Then God help me!" came from those of the strong man, in such amanifestation of agony as was painful to behold, while his hands for onemoment clasped themselves together as if he would wring them in womanishweakness, then went up to his face and spread themselves as if they wouldshut it away forever from human sight. "God help me!--and you, Elsie,despise me if you will, but, oh, help me to keep it from _her_. I dare notgo! I _am_ a coward! If I should go into battle I should disgrace myselfthere forever, by running away at the first fire, and that would break ourpoor old father's heart!"

  "Carlton! Carlton! my poor brother!" and the hands of the young girl closedaround one of her brother's, with so warm a pressure as proved that she didnot think of any shame, disgrace or fault in the connection, but only asthe announcement of some great misfortune.

  "Yes, Elsie, you have wrung from me the confession that I hoped never to beobliged to make to any one but my God. I have made it to Him, oh, how manytimes, and I almost feel that he has forgiven me, as my fellow-men willnever do. I have been a coward, I suppose, from my very cradle and heavenonly knows how I have managed to conceal the terrible truth from you, allthis while! The very sight of blood sickens me, even when it is only theblood of beeves in a slaughter-house. One spirt from the arm of a man whenhe is being bled sets every nerve to trembling, and sometimes sends mefainting to the floor. One moment among the horrible sights of battle--thegroans, and shrieks, and crashing bullets and spouting blood ofcarnage--would drive me mad or send me flying away with the curses of mywhole race ringing in my ears."

  "Oh, Carlton! my poor brother!" repeated once more, and in the same tone ofheart-broken sympathy, was all that Elsie Brand could answer to thishumiliation of the one to whom, perhaps, next to God, she had ever lookedup as to His noblest human manifestation of greatness in creative power.

  "Do you see what a poor miserable wretch I am?" he went on, apparentlyforgetful that any one besides his sister might be within hearing, and sheso absorbed in the grief and shame of the revelation that she possessed nomore forethought. "Think of me as an officer in my regiment, and know withwhat a reddened face I must have walked the streets when we paraded,conscious that if suddenly called to duty--even the quelling of a mob atthe street-corner--I should be obliged to disgrace myself at once andforever! Think what I have suffered since the war broke out!--commissionafter commission offered me--loving my country as I believe man never lovedit before--and yet not daring to strike one blow in its behalf. Obliged tomake slight excuses when others have inquired why I did not go to thewar--obliged to wear a double face, a mask, everywhere and at alltimes--dreading detection every day, and in that detection perhaps the lossof my proud father's life and of the love that has made the only hope of myown--cursing the omen that unwittingly gave me the brand of the coward inmy very name--racked and tortured thus, and yet obliged to hold anhonorable place among my fellow-men--it has been too hard, Elsie, too hard!And now to lose all! If _she_ has learned to suspect me--I know her braveheart and her proud nature--I shall lose her, the richest, noblest thing onearth, half grasped, to be mourned for as never man yet mourned for woman!Do help me, Elsie! Help me to conceal my shame--to deceive her, yes--Godhelp me!--to deceive _her_ before whom my very soul should be laid bare--sothat she will not know me for the miserable wretch and coward that I am!"

  And all this while his face was wrought and contorted, at short intervals,by those fearful spasms of shame and mental suffering; and ever and anonhis hands locked together and seemed to wring themselves even beyond hisown volition. How different he looked, at that moment, from the handsome,noble man, in the full pride of mature adolescence, who had stepped uponthat piazza but a few moments before!

  "I would do any thing in the world to help you, Carlton; but what _can_ Ido?" faltered the young girl, who saw no light beyond the thick, blackcloud of shame and ruin slowly settling down on the head of her belovedbrother.

  "Help me to conceal the truth"--he went on--"to enforce any excuse for notleaving the city at this moment! I know it is base and contemptible, but itis for a good purpose, Elsie--to save a heart that is already distracted,and a life that must be wrecked without it. We may never be placed in thesame circumstances again--the war may soon be ended--if she can only bekept from knowing this, I may never be placed in the same peril again, andmy whole life shall be one long proof that I am not otherwise unworthy ofthe woman I love so madly."

  "It does not need, Carlton Brand!" sounded a voice from within--a voicethat both recognized but too well; and out of the hall came the figure ofMargaret Hayley.

  Her words and her manner alike proved that she had heard all, or at leastenough; for there was an expression of withering contempt flashing out ofher dark eye and curling her proud lip, not easily to be borne by anyperson towards whom they were directed. There did not seem, for the moment,to be any thing like pity in her composition; and if there had been lovewithin her heart, it appeared to have been so crushed out by one stunningblow that it could never bloom again any more than the wild flower groundbeneath the
heel of the wayfarer. Her head was proud, erect, haughty,disdainful; and one who had leisure to examine her closely would have seenthat the nostril was opening and shutting convulsively, as if overwhelmingpassion was only suppressed by the physical act of holding the breath.Elsie Brand was too much dizzied and confused to be quite aware what hadhappened or what was about to happen. She merely uttered a cry of agitationand fright, and shrunk back alike from her brother and the woman who hadcome to be his judge. Carlton Brand saw more, with the quick eye of thelawyer and the sharpened perception of the lover. He realized that MargaretHayley had heard his agonized and unmanly confession--that anger and scornhad driven away from her face the love which had so often and so pleasantlybeamed upon him--that his doom was sealed.

  With the knowledge came back to him that manliness in demeanor of which hehad been so sorely in need a moment before. In the presence only of hissister, and when pleading with her to assist in rescuing him from the pitof grief and shame into which he felt himself to be sinking, he had beenhumble, abject, even cowering. Now, and in the presence of the woman forwhose softened opinion he would have given the world and almost barteredhis hopes of heaven,--he stood erect, and if the spasm of pain did notentirely pass away from his face, at least it changed in its character sothat he was a man once more.

  "I understand you, Miss Hayley," were the first words he spoke. "You haveheard some words not intended for your ear. You have been _listening_."

  "If you merely mean that I have heard what was not intended for my ear, youcertainly speak the truth, Mr. Brand," she replied, catching the formalityof his address at once. "But if you mean that I have listened meanly, oreven voluntarily, to words intended to be confidential, you wrong yourself,equally with me, in saying so. You have spoken so loudly that not only Ibut even the servants in the house could not well avoid hearing you; andthere is not much 'listening' in hearing words almost brawled on a piazza."

  Her words were very bitter--they beseemed the lips from which they flowed.A man who loved her less or, who had fewer of the natural impulses of thegentleman than Carlton Brand, might only have thought of the taunt conveyedand forgotten its justice. He did not do so, but bowed at once with an airof respectful humility, and said:

  "I beg ten thousand pardons for my hasty speech. I was mad when I made it.Certainly you have heard nothing but what you had a right to hear." Andthen he stood erect but silent.

  Poor little Elsie Brand could contain herself no longer. How she loved herbrother, only the angels knew. How easily we pardon, in those of ourkindred, what would be indelible disgrace in the characters of others, allclose observers of humanity know too well. Little Elsie Brand was onlyacting the part of nature in espousing the cause of her own blood, andsaying, before time enough had elapsed for any additional words between thetwo principals:

  "Margaret Hayley, I say that you are too hard with Carlton! If you had everloved him, as you pretended, you would not be so! There, you have not askedmy opinion, but you have it!"

  The words, though kindly meant, were ill-advised. Not even her brother, whohad but a few moments before been imploring her assistance, thanked herfor what she had then spoken. At least he silenced her for the time with--

  "You can do no good now by speaking, Elsie. It is too late. Miss Hayley hassomething more to say to me, no doubt, after what she has accidently heard;and I am prepared to hear it." He stood almost coolly, then, the bared headbent only a very little, and the face almost as calm as it wasinexpressibly mournful. So might a convicted criminal stand, feelinghimself innocent of wrong in intent, beaten down under a combination ofcircumstances too strong to combat, awaiting the words of his sentence, andyet determined that there should be something more of dignity in hisreception of the last blow than there had ever been in any previous actionof his life.

  Twice Margaret Hayley essayed to speak, and twice she failed in the effort.If she had been calmly indignant the moment before, Nature had alreadybegun to take its revenge, and she was the woman again. Her proud head wasbent a little lower, and there was a dewy moisture in the dark eyes, thatcould never be so well dried up as in being kissed away. Who knows that theproud woman was not really relenting--letting the old love come back in oneoverwhelming tide and sweep away all the barriers erected by indignationand contempt? Who knows how much of change might possibly have beenwrought, had the next words of Carlton Brand been such as indicated hisbelief that the chain between them was not yet severed utterly? Who knows,indeed?--for his words were very different.

  "Miss Hayley, I have waited for you to speak what I feel that you have tosay. You have heard words that no betrothed woman, I suppose, can hear fromher promised husband and yet retain that respect for him which should bethe very foundation of the marriage-bond."

  "I have." The words came from her lips in tones much lower than those inwhich she had before spoken, and she did not even look at him as sheanswered.

  "You have heard me declare myself--I know by the face you wore but a momentsince, that you have heard all this--what you hold to be the lowest andmost contemptible thing on God's footstool--a _coward_."

  "I have. I would rather have died on the spot than heard those words fromthe lips of the man I have--have loved!" The words still low, and somehesitation in those which concluded the sentence. One would almost havebelieved, at that moment, that of the two the culprit was the down-lookingand low-voiced woman, instead of the man whose godlike presence socontradicted the dastardly vice he was confessing.

  "I have no defence to offer," the speaker went on. "If you have heard allthat I believe, no further explanation is necessary. You know the worst;and as a proud woman, with honor unspotted and beyond suspicion, you have aright to pass what sentence you choose upon my--my shame, my crime, if youwill!"

  Perfect silence for an instant, then a broken sob from Elsie, whose facewas streaming with tears denied to both the others, and who was leaning herforehead against the sharp corner of one of the columns of the piazza,apparently that the slight physical pain thus inflicted might do somethingto still the mental agony that raged within. Then Margaret Hayley, as ifshe had passed through a long struggle but conquered at last with a triumphslaying her own soul, raised her head, drew in a hard breath, shook backone of the tresses of her dark hair which had fallen over her brow, andspoke:

  "Do you know, Carlton Brand--I cannot call you _Mr._ Brand again, for thataddress is mockery after what we have been to each other--do you know whatthat sentence must be, in justice to myself and to you?"

  "I can guess it, Margaret Hayley," was the answer, the prefix changed againin imitation of her, just as she a moment before had changed it inimitating him. The incident was a mere nothing, and yet suggestive asshowing how closely the two seemed to study each other, and how much ofreal sympathy there must after all have been between them. "I can guess it,and I will try to bear it."

  "You can guess it--you do guess it--separation!" said Margaret in a lowvoice that she could not quite render firm.

  "I was not mistaken--I supposed as much," he answered. "You are a proudwoman, Margaret, and you could not marry a man for whom you failed toentertain respect--"

  "I _am_ a proud woman, but a woman still," said Margaret. "You whom I haveloved so truly, can best guess the depth of my woman's nature. But I cannotand will not marry a man to whom I cannot look up and say: 'This man hasthe courage and the will to protect me in every peril!'"

  "Have you ever had reason to believe that I could not and would not protectyou, if need came, against all the world?" and his eyes momentarilyflashed, at that thought, with a light which should not have shone in theorbs of a coward.

  "Words are idle, Carlton Brand!" said Margaret. "There is no protection sosacredly due as that of a strong man to his country. You know it, and Iknow it as well. The man who knows his duty to his country and dares not doit, through sheer bodily fear, could not be trusted in any relation. Hiswife would not dare trust him, if she knew it; and you have opened my eyesbut too painfully. And so, in
mercy to both, all must be over between us--"

  "Oh, do not say that, Margaret, sister!" broke out Elsie, in a morefaltering voice than she had ever used in pleading for herself since theearliest day of childhood. Margaret did not heed her, if she heard, butwent on from the point at which she had been interrupted:

  "All is over between us, Carlton Brand, at once and forever, unless----"

  "Unless?--what is the possibility you would yet hold out to me?" and thespeaker showed more agitation, at that one renewed glimpse of hope, than hehad done when battling against utter despair.

  "Unless you will yet obey the summons that has called you with every othertrue son of Pennsylvania to the field, and prove to me that you did notknow yourself or that you were endeavoring to play a cruel part indeceiving your sister and me!"

  The face of Carlton Brand had been comparatively calm, ever since thecoming out of Margaret. Suffer as he might, most of the suffering had beenhidden. Now that face assumed an aspect that was really fearful to behold.The veins on his forehead swelled as if they would burst, his lip set hard,his eyes glared as if one touch might have made him a maniac, and his handsworked convulsively. All the symptoms of extreme terror and of a repugnancewhich no effort could overcome, were imminent in every glance and motion;and something of those phenomena was exhibited which we may suppose theHighland seer of old time to have shown, when he was carried beyond himselfby the invisible powers, and saw battle, defeat and horrible death forhimself or others, slowly unrolling before his spiritual sight. Elsie Brandshuddered and drew back to the column which had before sheltered her.Margaret Hayley still stood erect, though she was evidently laboring undersuppressed excitement, and none could say what the end of this scene mightbe. It was quite a moment before Carlton Brand could command himselfsufficiently to speak, and then he said in a low, broken voice:

  "No--I cannot. I cannot kill my poor gray-haired old father with thespectacle of the flight and disgrace of his only son."

  "And you have decided well," said Margaret. "It is a bitter thing to say,but I am glad that you have marked out my course as you have done.Think--oh heaven!" and she seemed indeed to be for the moment addressingthe powers above instead of those regnant upon the earth--"think how near Icame to being this man's wife and the possible mother of his children, eachone marked with the curse set upon them by their father!" No human earcould have heard the whisper which followed: "Enough of disgracesdescending from parents--oh, heaven!"

  "You are right, Margaret Hayley--right!" spoke Carlton Brand, his voicelower, more hoarse and broken than it had been at any part of the longinterview. "You have reminded me well of your duty and mine. The day maycome when you will be sorry for every word that has fallen from your lips;but it may not. To-day you are doing right--let the future take care ofitself. Good-bye!"

  He took the long, slender white fingers in his, and looked upon them aminute, the tears at last gathering in his eyes. Then, when through thethickening drops he could scarcely see them longer, he raised them to hislips, pressed a kiss upon them, dropped the hand and strode off the piazzaand away, never once looking back as he passed down the path towards thegate.

  Margaret Hayley had been overstraining both heart and brain, and thepenalty asserted itself very soon. Her discarded lover was scarcely halfway down the path when the revulsion came, and pride for the moment brokedown before her terrible sorrow. The proud neck bent, she stretched out herarms after the retreating figure, the single word, "Carlton!" came halfwhispered and half groaned through her lips, her eyes closed, and she sunkfainting into the arms of Elsie.

  Carlton Brand did not hear the call. A moment, and still without anotherglance at the house where he was leaving behind the happiness of a life, hehad unloosed the splendid chestnut pawing at the gate, swung himself intothe saddle and ridden away westward. He reeled a little in his seat as herode, as a drunken man might have done--that was all the apparentdifference between the man with a hope who had arrived half an hour beforeand the man who now departed without one.