Mohun; Or, the Last Days of Lee and His Paladins Part 38

"_Her cousin_! That was not bad, you see. She had gained access, as I ascertained from some words of their conversation, by representing herself as my cousin. I was a member of her family who had 'gone astray' and embraced the cause of the rebellion, but was still dear to her! Womanly heart! clinging affection! not even the sin of the prodigal cousin could sever the tender chord of her love! I had wandered from the right path--fed on husks with the Confederate swine; but I was wounded--had come back; should the fatted calf remain unbutchered, and the loving welcome be withheld?

"'_You can give yourself no further uneasiness about your cousin, madam_!'

"Such was the a.s.surance of the surgeon, and he turned away to other patients, of whom there were, however, very few in the hospital, and none near me. As he turned his back, madam looked at me. Her face was really diabolical, and I thought at the moment that she was a nightmare--that I _dreamed her_! Closing my eyes to shut out the vision, I kept them thus shut for some moments. When I reopened them she was gone.

"Well, the surgeon's predictions did not seem likely to be verified. My fever returned. Throughout the succeeding day I turned and tossed on my couch; as night came, I had some hideous dreams. A storm was raging without, and the rain falling in torrents. The building trembled, the windows rattled--it was a night of nights for some devil's work; and I remember laughing in my fever, and muttering, 'Now is the time for delirium, bad dreams, and ugly shapes, to flock around me!'

"I fell into a doze at last, and had, as I thought, a decidedly bad dream--for I felt certain that I was dreaming, and that what I witnessed was the sport of my fancy. What I saw, or seemed to see, was this: the door opened slowly--a head was thrust in, and remained motionless for an instant; then the head moved, a body followed; madam, the lady of the dark eyes, glided stealthily toward my cot. It was enough to make one shudder, Surry, to have seen the stealthy movement of that phantom. I gazed at it through my half-closed eyelids--saw the midnight eyes burning in the white face half covered by a shawl thrown over the head--and, under that covering, the right hand of the phantom grasped something which I could not make out.

"In three quick steps _it_ was beside me. I say _it_, for the figure resembled that of a ghost, or some horrible _thing_. From the eyes two flames seemed to dart, the lips opened, and I heard, in a low mutter:--

"'Ah! he is going to recover, then!'

"As the words left the phantom's lips, it reached my cot at a bound; something gleamed aloft, and I started back only in time to avoid the sharp point of a poniard, which grazed my head and nearly buried itself in the pillow on which I lay.

"Well, I started up and endeavored to seize my a.s.sailant; but she suddenly broke away from me, still clutching her weapon. Her clothing was torn from her person--she recoiled toward the door--and I leaped from my couch to rush after and arrest her. I had not the strength to do so, however. I had scarcely taken three steps when I began to stagger.

"'Murderess!' I exclaimed, extending my arms to arrest her flight.

"It was useless. A few feet further I reeled--my head seemed turning round--and again shouting 'Murderess!' I fell at full length on the floor, at the moment when the woman disappeared.

"That was curious, was it not? It would have been a tragical dream--it was more tragical in being no dream at all, but a reality. What had taken place was simple, and easy to understand. That woman had come thither, on this stormy night, to murder me; and she had very nearly succeeded. Had she found me asleep, I should never have waked.

Fortunately, I was awake. Some noise frightened her, and she disappeared. A moment afterward one of the nurses came, and finally the surgeon.

"When I told him what had taken place, he laughed.

"'Well, colonel, go back to bed,' he said, 'such dreams r.e.t.a.r.d your recovery more than every thing else.'

"I obeyed, without taking the trouble to contradict him. My breast was bleeding again, and I did not get over the excitement for some days.

The phantom did not return. I slowly recovered, and was taken in due time to Fort Delaware--the rest you know.

"I forgot to tell you one thing. The surgeon almost persuaded me that I had been the victim of nightmare. Unfortunately, however, for the theory of the worthy, I found a deep hole in my pillow, where the poniard had entered.

"So you see it was madam, and not her ghost, who had done me the honor of a visit, Surry."

XXIII.

THE GRAVE OF ACHMED.

An hour afterward I had dined with Mohun at his head-quarters, in the woods; mounted our horses; and were making our way toward the Rapidan to inspect the pickets.

This consumed two hours. We found nothing stirring. As sunset approached, we retraced our steps toward Chancellorsville. I had accepted Mohun's invitation to spend the night with him.

As I rode on, the country seemed strangely familiar. All at once I recognized here a tree, there a stump--we were pa.s.sing over the road which I had followed first in April, 1861, and again in August, 1862, when I came so unexpectedly upon Fenwick, and heard his singular revelation.

We had been speaking of Mordaunt, to whose brigade Mohun's regiment belonged, and the young officer had grown enthusiastic, extolling Mordaunt as 'one of the greatest soldiers of the army, under whom it was an honor to serve.'

"Well," I said, "there is a spot near here which he knows well, and where a strange scene pa.s.sed on a night of May, 1863."

"Ah! you know the country, then?" said Mohun.

"Perfectly well."

"What are you looking at?"

"That hill yonder, shut in by a thicket. There is a house there."

And I spurred on, followed by Mohun. In five minutes we reached the brush-fence; our horses easily cleared it, and we rode up the hill toward the desolate-looking mansion.

I surveyed it intently. It was unchanged, save that the porch seemed rotting away, and the window-shutters about to fall--that on the window to the right hung by a single hinge. It was the one through which I had looked in August, 1862. There was the same door through which I had burst in upon Fenwick and his companion.

I dismounted, threw my bridle over a stunted shrub, and approached the house. Suddenly I stopped.

At ten paces from me, in a little group of cedars, a man was kneeling on a grave, covered with tangled gra.s.s. At the rattle of my sabre he rose, turned round--it was Mordaunt.

In a moment we had exchanged a pressure of the hand; and then turning to the grave:--

"That is the last resting-place of poor Achmed," he said; adding, in his deep, grave voice:--

"You know how he loved me, Surry."

"And how you loved _him_, Mordaunt. I can understand your presence at his grave, my dear friend."

Mordaunt sighed, then saluted Mohun, who approached.

"This spot," he said, "is well known to Colonel Surry and myself, Mohun."

Then turning to me, he added:--

"I found a melancholy spectacle awaiting me here."

"Other than Achmed's grave?"

"Yes; come, and I will show you."

And he led the way into the house. As I entered the squalid and miserable mansion, the sight which greeted me made me recoil.

On a wretched bed lay the corpse of a woman; and at a glance, I recognized the woman Parkins, who had played so tragic a part in the history of Mordaunt. The face was hideously attenuated; the eyes were open and staring; the lower jaw had fallen. In the rigid and bony hand was a dry and musty crust of bread.

"She must have starved to death here," said Mordaunt, gazing at the corpse. And, approaching it, he took the crust from the fingers. As he did so, the teeth seemed grinning at him.

"Poor creature!" he said; "this crust was probably all that remained to her of the price of her many crimes! I pardon her, and will have her buried!"