Activate Javascript or update your browser for the full Digital Library experience.
Previous Page
–
Next Page
OCR
.
12
THE WAR LIBRARY.
desire to fight once more for the Union
Yet, that was not all, general,.as' I freely
confess. I was desperate, and went to
Gettysburg hoping to be killed there.”
“That would not have established your
innocence.” :
“Tt would have made me forever uncon-,
scious of the disgrace attached to my
name.’ a
- “Did you not think of Canada, my boy?”
asked Warfield.
* General, Canada is the refuge of cowards
and guilty-men.”’ .
“And youare neither, I'll swear!” cried
the previous speaker, emphatically.
© P Certainly am uot guilty; as for the
cowardice part—’"’
“You led the most heroic charge of
Gettysburg!” his old friend declared.
General Meade frowned a little. He wish-
ed Wartield’s confidence was substantiated
by facts, but all the proof was on the other
>
side.
Yet, what was he to think of this puz-
zling case? It was, indeed, deeply mys-
terious. * : )
“*Major,” he said, earnestly, “answer
one question frankly, Is your name Robert
Bridewell?”
‘General, upon my word of honor, itis
not. lam named Walter Spencer.”
Clearly, calmly, decisively the mysterious
major made his statement.
“Yet, General Messenger, Major Wendel)
and others declare emphatically that you
are not Walter Spencer. Have you any
reason to believe they are speaking falsely
through any motive whatever?”
“T cannot see why they should. General
Messenger, who was my old colonel, was al-
ways kind to me,and Tom Wendell and I
shared the same tknt for weeks. He was a
good friend and a true friend,” -~
*“ And be ought to know whether you are
his old courrade or not, hadn’t he?”
“flecertainly ought, but he don’t seem
to,’? Spencer replied, with a puzzled air.
“How did it happen, if you were old
friends, that zolong a time passed without
your meeting each other?” .
“‘T wasiu the hospital a long time after
Bull Run, and when I recovered, I met
General Wartield, was transferred to his
staff, and by the frequent changes which all
knew took place in my old regiment, did
not sgain meet any of its members.”
The examination went on, but it only
served to make perplexity more perplexing.
It did not serve to explain away the dark,
points in the major’s case, though all were
impressed by his air of seeming sincerity,
and Warfield took occasion to comment on
his heroic record from the time he first
joined bis staff to the charge at Gettysburg.
That a traitor and branded spy, menaced
by a violent and ignominious death, should
deliberately return to his prison, instead of
striking out for Lee’s army, or to Canada,
seemed beyond the bounds of reason.
Yet, this map, who seemed _ proven a trai-
tor and spy, had insisted on being retained
a prisoner. . .
“By George!” said one gray-headed vet-
-eran, ‘he ought to be pardoned, anyhow,
for his heroism at Gettysburg.”
But General Meade resolved to test the
worth of the suggestion that: the major
might be wrong mentally, and five accom-
lished surgeons were sent for to pronounce
Judgment ou that important point.
CHAPTER X.*
BREDWICK IS DENIED!
Spencer treated the new suggestion with
a quiet smile of amusement.
“The idea isa good one,” said he, “and I
would like to suggest, general, that you
don’t stop with me, It would uot bea bad
idea fora commission in lunacy, or what-
_ever you callit, togive a little time to these
men who assert that I am not myself.”
“We will test you first.’’
They did so.
The surgeons came, and were informed
that, two years before, the prisoner had
been wounded in the head. The question
for them to solve was to decide whether he
had fully recovered from that injury, or
was then mentally deranged in any way.
The surgeons looked at the major, and the
major looked at them.
is quiet smile was amused, cool and ra-
tional. They noticed this, and mentally de-
cided that he was as well balanced mentally
as any one in the room.
But they examined his head. They found
ascar—the mark of an ugly wound—but it
appeared to have in no way injured brain or
8
ull.
wz
At present it seemed as harmless as a cut
on one of his fingers. While working, they
took closer notice of his actions. He jested
with Wartield, und spoke coherently and to
the point.
He did not grow restless under their in-
vestigations, and his shapely hands scarcely
moved. No nervousness-there.
‘General Meade,” said one of the sur-
geons, at the conclusion, ‘‘not twenty-five
per cent. of the men of your army have the
well-balanced head and coolness of this gen-
tleman. After this wound once healed it
amounted to nothing. The major is per-
fectly sane.” —~ .
The verdict had been expected by all, but
it left the ease more puzzling than ever, and
the major was sent back to® jail, while the
officers considered his affair further, and be-
come more confused than before.
Like a good angel came to their troubled
eyes the setret service detective who had
hunted Spencer down.
“*General,”’ he said, addressing Meade, “I
have just learned that we have, among our
risoners, Colonel Bredwick, of the ——
south Carolina regiment. He was in Vir-
ginia for several years previous to the war,
and was intimate with both theSpencer and
Bridewell families. Rumor has it he was
concerned with Robert Bridewell in a dis-
reputable affair just before the war. I sug-
gest that without any hint to either men,
‘ve place him and our major, the soi disant
Spencer, inthe same room, and that we be
concealed. where we can witness their meet-
ing. Bredwick knew both Spencer and
Bridewell, andin hissurprise, and unwarned
by any one, he is sure to call the other by
his correct name.” :
The idea seemed to be a brilliant one, and
General Meade caught at it at once.
rrangements were immediately made,
The cell occupied by the mysterious major
was of such a nature that two or three men
could watch through a barred window and,
themselves concealed by the branches and
leaves of a tree, hear and see all.
Meade, Warfield and the detective were
soon there,and Bredwick was escorted to
the jail.
He had not changed greatly since Bull
Run, when We met him at Adam’s cottage,
except wind, sun and wine had colored his
face somewhat darker, and he was still‘the
pompous fellow who drank up all Adam’s
vine. i
While being escorted to the jail he swag-
gered and held his head very‘high, and
probably thought that the despised Union-
ists ‘gazed on him as on alion bound,’ as
the poem has it. ;
Singularly enough, he frightened nobody,
however. SOR foes
Unconscious of the test awaiting him, the
frajor gotin his celland read a paper with
bp unconcerned air, ON i
He was the coolest prisoner, probabl
tWat was ever in the place, yet hid case wis
one of the most desperate. ~~: ee *
The key clicked in the lock, the bolt shot
back, the door opened, and some one en-
ered. BO i
Spencer looked up, and the door closed
with aclang. MwA.
8 o men, the major and Bredwick,
stood facing each other, the only occupants
of the cell. Va be
‘or 8 moment they looked in silence. ;
the watchers saw that both were surprised,
but over the major’s face there stole a hard,
reatening expression, and then Bri :
burst out in his usual fashion. eawick
reat Pompey! am I dreaming, or is th
you, Rob Bridewell? Egad! v thought
you'd been dead these two years—{ swear I
ia—-
The big fellow was advancing.with ex-
tended hand, joy beaming on his biotehed
face, but the major drew himself erect and
put up one hand threateningly,
“ Stand back you scoundrel! or I'll knock
you throug e door owd
me Rab Briqewell!”” Ww Gare you call
7 at the dickens should I cal ”
cried Bred wick, in seeming surprice were
rou 2 general now and want your title?
‘gad! why, you've got on a Yank uniform,
What the plzes does that mean?
e major looked an, and dis
he was sas eool as usta Busted, but
. redwick,”’ he replied, “chance or
sign—it may ‘be the lattes, now I think tt
ver—” -
a
°
“Keen as a briar, isn’t bh "7
Warfeld, at the window, 0? whispered
* Has made us occupants of th
continued the major. “"Now, we know eth
other of old, and hate each other cordially,
and I should be pleased under other circum.
stances to wring the neck of such a consum-
mate scoundrel, but since we are together +
here, I suggest a truce. So, don’t call me
Rob Bridewellagain. My name is Spencer,
as I'll trouble you to remember.” .
“Eb! Wha’ our name Spencer?” cried
Bredwick, his face the picture of amaze-
ment.
“Certainly it is, you——”
_“ Ah! I see. You’re sailing under false
colors.” « -
“What do you mean?”’\ |
“Tt'somehow gets through my head,” said
Bredwick, ** that, knowing Walt Spencer. is
in Libby Prison, you have assumed his name
and identity, and are now a: flourishing
Yank pro tem.”*
*“Oh! I understand; they bave ‘seen’
you,” observed the major with a scornful
curl of his lip. : . .
“Eh! Who’sseen me?” <
“That's just what I want to know. Bred-
wick, tell me who sent you here to act this
part and I'll abandon my vendetta against
you. Weare old enemies, and I d sworn
to shoot you, but I'll let upif you will put
me on the track.”
There was a touch of eagerness’in the
speaker’s voice, but Bredwick dropped into
a chair and looked at him helplessly.
‘¢Am I mad, foolish, drunk, or dreaming?”
he demanded in a hopeless voice. ‘* Of course
if you want to shake me, that is your priv-
ilege, but I can’t see the sense in all this rig-
marole. You are Rob Bridewell, and it isn’t
likely Ican forget a man I have known all
my life.” |
be major sat gown, once more perfectly
cool. .
‘It is as I suspected,” he steadily replied,
‘you have been bribed.” ye.
“So has your grandfather,” retorted
Bredwick, ‘*Do you suppose I'd let.an in-
fernal Yankee bribé me? Not by a blamed
sight! Zounds! I wouldn’t affiliate with
them for any money. See here, Rob, we
are companions in misfortune, at least, I
judge so, though I don’t understand why
you have on a. Yankee uniform, and we
ought to pull together, hadn’t we?”
“You insist that Iam Robert Bridewell?”
““Why, of course I do.”
“And you say Walter Spencer is in Libby
Prison ?”
“Yes, I saw him there not*two months
ago.’ . LS -
“« How long has he been there?” >
“He has been a prisoner ever since Bull
Run in one place and snother. He got
separated from the other Yanks when they
retreated, and his career as a Yank was
nipped in the bud.”’ .
.. “Allow me to ask what became of Bride-
wellafter Bull Run?” ,
‘* You were supposed to be killed, though
your body was never found.”
“Very likely,’’ was the sarcastic com-
ment. ‘I usually take care of my body
myself. And vou still persist that I am
‘Bridewell?”
’ The Confeuerate’seyes grew unnaturally
large. : .
“Why, hang it, what are youdriving at?” ,
hedemanded. ‘I would as soon forget my
own nameas your face. Haven’t I known
you all my life?”
“Yes, and I’ve known you,” replied the
major, sharply. “I’ve known you so well
that this new turn don’t surpriseme. You
are capable of any rascality, and I see that
my enemies have bribed you. Well, 80 be
it, Bredwick, but you cannot expect me to
play into your hands. Scoundrel, only that
the war separated us I would have made
you smart before this for your share in rob-
ing Glendora Marchmont of her money.”
**Didn’t you put me up to it?”
“1? ‘No, sir, I did not.” -
“Who gave me charge of the case?’ —
“Oh! I perceive that you still insist that
Iam Bridewell. Very well, Bredwick, ’m
going to show you that I am not the man
you take me to be. Bridewell was you
ally, your principal. your fellow knave. I,
Walter Spencer, hate both him and you.
may never be able to get square with him,
but you, Bredwick, you=— Will you con-
fess you have lied about me?” ~
light in the
There was a threatening ~
Major’s eyes and an ominous.ring to b
voice, and the fat rebel looked‘ discon-
cel : , -
“Why, hang it, Ihaven’t lied, you know,”
he said, anxious to keep peace in the Figen
“Sir, I demand that you retract your
statement that I am Robert Bridewell?”
Bredwick brushed his big hands across
hig eyes.
“The devill” he ejaculated. “What are
~