The Young Lieutenant Part 33

"But I shall wait for yer; and, if yer don't step along lively, I'll let yer know how this cheese-knife feels."

"Don't distress yourself to do anything of the sort," said De Banyan; and he hobbled along on his new-made cane.

A walk of a few rods brought them to the road, where the commander of the company was impatiently awaiting their arrival. He looked daggers at the travelers, and evidently intended to annihilate them by the fierceness of his visage.

"Give an account of yourself," said he.

"We're no account," replied De Banyan.

"I've seen you before," continued the cavalry commander, gazing intently at the captain.

"No; you saw me behind."

"That sounds like you. Why, really, it is Barney Marvel."

"Who?" demanded De Banyan with an expression of humor.

"Barney Marvel! Don't you know your own name? Give us your hand, Barney,"

added the officer, as he extended his own.

"Well, cap'n, perhaps I'm Barney what's-his-name; but, 'pon my word, I don't think I am;" and De Banyan wore a troubled expression, even to the eyes of his anxious companion.

"Don't be modest about it, Barney. You left us rather unceremoniously; but I hope you'll be able to show that it was all right."

"'Pon my word it was all right, though I haven't the least idea what you mean."

"Haven't you, indeed, Barney?" laughed the captain, who, in spite of his present happy manner, was evidently as much puzzled as the other party.

"'Pon my word, I haven't."

"Do you mean to say you are not Barney Marvel, formerly a lieutenant in the Third Tennessee?"

"Not if I know it."

"I suppose I understood your position, Barney; but I advise you not to deny facts."

"I never deny facts, captain; you haven't told me your name yet."

"No need of that. Now, be honest, Barney. Tell us all about it. There wasn't an officer in the regiment that didn't mourn you as a brother when you left us."

"I'm very much obliged to them," replied De Banyan lightly; but even Somers began to have some doubts in regard to his popular friend.

"How are Magenta, Solferino, and the Crimea, now-a-days?" demanded the officer.

"Never heard of such places. Don't know much about geography," answered the captain.

Somers was confounded when the officer repeated these words, which was proof positive that he was the man whom the captain represented him to be.

"Sergeant, dismount, and tell me if you find B. M. on that man's right arm."

The sergeant obeyed, and, with the a.s.sistance of another, bared the captain's arm, where they found, plainly marked in India ink, the initials B. M.

CHAPTER XXI

THE THIRD TENNESSEE

Probably there was no one in either party who was so thoroughly bewildered by the incident which had just transpired as Captain Somers.

The mystery of his companion's antecedents was in a fair way to be cleared up, though in a very unsatisfactory manner to those most intimately concerned. The conversation, and the verification of the rebel officer's statements, showed that De Banyan was not De Banyan; that the brave and brilliant Federal officer was not a Federal officer; that, of all he had been, only the "brave" and "brilliant" remained.

It was painfully evident that the bold and das.h.i.+ng captain was, or had been, a rebel officer. Somers was terribly shocked at the discovery, even while it was a satisfaction to have the mystery of his companion's previous life explained. For the time, he forgot the perils of his own situation in the interest he felt in the affairs of his friend. Perhaps De Banyan was a spy, who had been serving in the Union army for the purpose of conveying information to the enemy. He had been very glad of the opportunity to cross the river; and it seemed probable to our hero that he wished to return to his friends. It is true, the efficient services of the captain in the Army of the Potomac, his readiness at all times to fight the rebels, and especially his shooting down the enemy's pickets in the swamp, were not exactly consistent with such a record; but perhaps he had done these things to keep up appearances, and thus enable him the better to promote the objects of the rebellion.

He was anxious to hear the captain's explanation of these gross charges; but, of course, that was utterly impracticable at present. In the meantime, there was no room to doubt that the cavalry officer had all the truth on his side. He had hinted very strongly that De Banyan was a deserter; but he might have deserted for the purpose of performing the special duty which had been a.s.signed to him. Officers and soldiers, sent out as spies, had often incurred the odium of such a reputation, in order to keep their own counsels, and serve their country the more faithfully.

If Captain de Banyan was a deserter in appearance only, he would, of course, soon be able to make his fidelity and patriotism apparent to the rebel authorities; and being a patriot, in the traitor use of the word, he could not do less than denounce his companion as a Federal spy.

Whatever turn the affair might take, Somers felt that his own chances of escape were every moment becoming beautifully less. If De Banyan was a faithful rebel, there was proof positive that his companion was a spy; if not, he was in the company of a deserter, and would be subjected to all manner of suspicion.

De Banyan still held his head up, and did not lose his impudence, even after the letters had been found upon his arm. He did not appear to be at all confused by the discovery and the triumph of the cavalry officer's argument. He punched Somers in the side with his elbow; but the latter was unable to divine the significance of this movement.

"Well, Barney, I wish somebody else had caught you instead of me; for it is not pleasant to find an old friend under such circ.u.mstances."

"If you please, captain, I haven't the pleasure of knowing your name."

"Come, Barney, don't keep up this farce any longer."

"I was about to beg the favor, that you would not call me by that offensive name any longer."

"You seem to be changing your colors very rapidly," laughed the officer.

"When I first saw you, you were a rough-spoken fellow; but now you use the language of a polished gentleman. Barney, you and I were good friends in the Third Tennessee; and, though I am sorry to meet you under these circ.u.mstances, we must both make the best of it."

"I tell you, captain, you are entirely mistaken in your man. I never was in Tennessee in my life."

"Good! You were always celebrated for monstrous stories; and they are fully in keeping with your past history. Well, since you refuse to recognize an old friend, of course I shall be excused for any unpleasant measures to which I may be compelled to resort."

"Anything you please, captain, so long as you refrain from calling me Barney, which in my estimation is a low and vulgar cognomen, that I am unwilling to have applied to me."

"Who is the man with you?" demanded the officer in more business-like tones.

"His name is Tom Leathers; he's a pilot on the James. We refer you to Captain Osborn for evidence of our character. We came here to do a job for him."

"All right, then. Captain Osborn lodges at the next house on this road, and we will let him speak for the other man. He can't speak for you; for I know you better than he does, or any other man who has not served in the Third Tennessee. As you were going this way, you can walk along with us."

"Thank you for the polite invitation, and this is a handsome escort for a man of my humble pretensions."

The captain of the company ordered his men to keep back, and Somers and De Banyan walked by the side of his horse, a few yards in advance of the platoons. He had evidently adopted this method to draw out his prisoners; for as such our officers were compelled to regard themselves.