A Little Traitor to the South | Page 9

as she entered the room, "that I was forced to override your desires."
"Is it about the subject that we--I--talked about this afternoon? If so--"
"It is not. I shall say no more on that score. I had my answer then."
"I am very sorry," continued the girl. "I admire you, respect you, but--but--I do not--"
"I understand. Never mind that. You said that Sempland had never done anything to distinguish himself. Well, he's going to do it to-night."
"What is he going to do?" asked the girl, all the listlessness instantly going out of her manner.
"He is going to take out the David."
"Yes?"
"And blow up the Wabash."
Her hand went to her heart. Her face turned whiter than the frock she wore.
"My God!" she whispered, "Admiral Vernon's ship!"
"She loves him! She loves him!" flashed into Lacy's mind, and for the moment he suffered agonies of jealous pain.
"But," continued the girl, "why should they--"
"In the first place," went on Lacy, "if the venture succeeds, we sink a noble ship and put out of the way a most determined enemy, and we hope to let the blockaded cotton ships get to sea."
"But the David!" said the girl, who knew the sinister story of the crazy submarine torpedo boat as did every one in Charleston. "It is sure death!"
"It is dangerous," said Lacy, softly, "but General Beauregard has ordered Sempland to keep her on the surface. That ought to give them a chance. Glassell escaped, you remember, when he tried the New Ironsides."
"He will be killed! He will be killed!" she cried piteously, "and--Admiral Vernon!"
"What is the Yankee admiral to you, to any of us?" Lacy asked, curiously interested to know the meaning of her remark.
"Why do you tell me of all this?" she asked, failing to notice his question in her anxiety and alarm.
"Because I want you to know Sempland as the hero he is, and because--forgive my frankness--I believe that you love him. So I want him to hear you say it before he goes out. It will double his chances of escape if he has your love to think of. You will inspire him to come back. As it is now, I am afraid he does not especially care to. He's too good a man to lose, if we--if you--can save him, Miss Fanny."
"And this man abused you to me this afternoon!" murmured the girl.
"He said what was true. I honor him for it. I love you, Miss Fanny. I am proving it to you now as I proved it to him when I gave him my place at his earnest entreaty. The detail was mine."
"Why did you do it?"
"For his sake, for yours. It's his solitary chance. I've had so many, you know."
"And he is going to blow up the Wabash, the admiral's ship, did you say?"
"Yes, if he can."
Fanny Glen was a picture of terror plainly apparent in spite of her valiant effort to conceal her feelings. Her agitation was so overwhelming, her anxiety so pronounced, that even on the hypothesis of an ardent affection for Sempland, Lacy was completely at loss to account for her condition. What could it mean? But he had no time to speculate upon it. The minutes were flying by.
"Come, Miss Glen," he said at last, "it isn't so bad as all that."
"But those men on the ship, the--the admiral! They won't have a chance for their lives. It is appalling to think of! I cannot bear it! I--"
"Let them lift the blockade then," coolly returned the young officer; "it is a chance of war. Don't waste your sympathy on them. Bestow it nearer at hand. Sempland starts in half an hour. Won't you see him before he goes?"
"Yes," whispered the girl, "if you will send him to me."
"There is no time to lose. I will have him here in a few moments."
As he turned away the girl stretched out her hand to him.
"You have been very good--very brave--very noble," she faltered. "I wish--I--I loved you more than--than I do."
He stooped over her and kissed her bended head. She was a little woman and so appealing. He breathed a prayer over her and tore himself away.
"Thank you," he said, "you have rewarded me. Good-by."
CHAPTER V
WHAT HAPPENED IN THE STRONG ROOM
As she heard his departing footstep on the porch the poor girl threw herself down upon her knees and lifted her hands.
"The South and--and--he, mistaken, but still--ah, where is my duty? The ship and Rhett Sempland! I love him. I cannot let him go! It would be wicked. God pity me! But how, how to prevent it? If I can only delay him until to-morrow, I can tell the general everything, and--is there a way, is there a way, O God?"
She thought deeply, every atom in her being concentrated on the problem which tore her between love and duty,