Aladdin O'Brien/Chapter 26

by Gouverneur Morris

XXVI

HE girl borrowed Aladdin's pocket-knife and began whittling at a fragment of board. Then she tore several yards of ruffle from her white petticoat, cut his trouser leg off below the knee, cut the lacings of his boot, and bandaged his broken leg to the splint she had made. All that was against a series of most courteous protests, made in a tearful voice.

When she had done, Aladdin took her hand in his and kissed the fingers.

"They're the smallest sisters of mercy I ever saw," said he.

She made no attempt to withdraw her hand.

"It was stupid of me to fall through," she said.

"Isn't there any possible way of getting out?"

"No; the walls are stone."

"O Lord!" said Aladdin.

"I'm glad I repented before I fell through," said the girl.

"So am I," said Aladdin.

"What were you doing in our stable?" said the girl.

"I got lost, and came in for shelter."

"You came to the house first. I heard you knocking, and saw you from the window. But I wouldn't let you in, because my father and brother were away, and besides, I knew you were a Yankee."

"It was too dark to see my uniform."

"I could tell by the way you rode."

"Is it as bad as that?"

"No—but it's different."

The girl laid her hand on Aladdin's forehead.

"You've got fever," she said.

"It doesn't matter," said Aladdin, politely.

"Does your leg hurt awfully?"

"It doesn't matter."

"Did any one ever tell you that you were very civil for a Yankee?"

"It doesn't matter," said Aladdin.

She looked at him shrewdly, and saw that the light of reason had gone out of his eyes. She wetted her handkerchief with the cold, filthy water spread over the cellar floor and laid it on his forehead. Aladdin spoke ramblingly or kept silence. Every now and then the girl freshened the handkerchief, and presently Aladdin fell into a troubled sleep.

When he awoke his mind was quite clear. The lantern still burned, but faintly, for the air in the cellar was becoming heavy. Beside him on the straw the girl lay sleeping. And overhead footsteps sounded on the stable floor. He remembered what the girl had said about the people who would kill him if they found him, and blew out the lantern. Then, his hand over her mouth, he waked the girl.

"Don't make a noise," he said. "Listen."

The girl sat up on the straw.

"I'll call," she whispered presently, "and pretend you're not here."

"But the horse?"

"I'll lie about him."

She raised her voice.

"Who's there?" she called.

"It's I—Calvert. Where are you?"

"Listen," she answered; "I've fallen through the floor into the cellar. Don't you see where it's broken?"

The footsteps approached.

"You're not hurt, are you?"

"No; but don't come too close, don't try to look down; the floor's frightfully rickety. Isn't there a ladder there somewhere?"

A man laughed.

"Wait," he said. They heard his footsteps and laughter receding. Presently the bottom of a ladder appeared through the hole in the floor.

"Look out for your head," said the man.

The girl rose and guided the ladder clear of Aladdin's head.

"What have you done with the Yankee's horse?" she called.

"He's here."

"Where's the Yankee, do you suppose?"

"We think he must have run off into the woods."

"That's what I thought."

The girl began to mount the ladder.

"I'm coming up," she said.

She disappeared, and the ladder was withdrawn.

 

She came back after a long time, and there were men with her.

"It's all right, Yankee," she called down the hole. "They're your own men, and I'm the prisoner now."

The ladder reappeared, and two friendly men in blue came down into the cellar.

"Good God!" they said. "It's Aladdin O'Brien!"

Hannibal St. John and Beau Larch lifted Aladdin tenderly and took him out of his prison.

Outside, tents were being pitched in the dark, and there was a sound of axes. Fires glowed here and there through the woods and over the fields, and troops kept pouring into the plantation. They laid Aladdin on a heap of hay and went to bring a stretcher. The girl sat down beside him.

"You'll be all right now," she said.

"Yes," said Aladdin.

"And go home to your sweetheart."

"Yes," said Aladdin, and he thought of the tall violets on the banks of the Maine brooks, and the freshness of the sea.

"What is her name?" said the girl.

"Margaret," said Aladdin.

"Mine's Ellen," said the girl, and it seemed as if she sighed.

Aladdin took her hand.

"You've been very good to me," he said, and his voice grew tender, for she was very beautiful, "and I'll never forget you," he said.

"Oh, me!" said the girl, and there was a silence between them.

"I tried to help you," said the girl, faintly, "but I wasn't very good at it."

"You were an angel," said Aladdin.

"I don't suppose we'll ever see each other again, will we?" said the girl.

"I don't know," said Aladdin. "Perhaps I'll come back some day."

"It's very silly of me—" said the girl.

"What?" said Aladdin.

"Nothing."

He closed his eyes, for he was very weak. It seemed as if a great sweetness came close to his face, and he could have sworn that something wet and hot fell lightly on his forehead; but when he opened his eyes, the girl was sitting aloof, her face in the shadow.

"I dreamed just then," said Aladdin, "that something wonderful happened to me. Did it?"

"What would you consider wonderful?"

Aladdin laid a finger on his forehead; he drew it away and saw that the tip was wet.

"I couldn't very well say," he said.

The girl bent over him.

"It nearly happened," she said.

"You are very wonderful and beautiful," said Aladdin.

Her eyes were like stars, and she leaned closer.

"Are you going to go on fighting against my people?" she said.

Roses lay for a moment on his lips.

"Are you?"

He made no sign. If she had kissed him again he would have renounced his birthright and his love.

"God bless and keep you, Yankee," she said.

Tears rushed out of Aladdin's eyes.

"They're coming to take you away," she said. "Good-by."

"Kiss me again," said Aladdin, hoarsely.

She looked at him quietly for some moments.

"And your sweetheart?" she said.

Aladdin covered his face with his arm.

"Poor little traitor," said the girl, sadly. She rose and, without looking back, moved slowly up the road toward the house.

Nor did Aladdin ever see her again, but in after years the smell of box or roses would bring into his mind the wonderful face of her, and the music of her voice.

In the delirium which was upon him all that night, he harped to the surgeon of Ellen, and in the morning fell asleep.

"Haec olim meminisse juvabit," said the surgeon, as rain-clouded dawn rose whitely in the east.