Cyrus Townsend Brady

“ He can speak nobly of you," cried Fanny Glen, turning reproachfully to Sempland.
"I never said he was not a gentleman, could not be a gentleman, that is, when he was—when he wished to be one, that is, as well as a brave man. He has good blood in him, but that doesn't alter the case. He isn't a fit match for you, or for any woman. I am not speaking for myself. I know my case is hopeless—"
"Gad!" laughed Lacy, "you have tried then and lost? It's my turn then. Miss Glen, you have heard the worst of me this afternoon. I have been a drunkard, a scoundrel. I have fallen low, very low. ”

“ She had lost all—love, the ship, everything! Lacy, too, was gone. He had taken the boat out in Sempland's place. Why had she not thought of that possibility? And he had loved her, and he would never come back.
With a misery akin to Sempland's she heard the bombardment which proclaimed that something had happened. Had the flagship been blown up? Nothing was left to her. She would go to the general and tell the truth in the morning, and then—he would be free. They could punish her and she could die. Well, death would be welcome.
"Poor little Fanny Glen ... she had lost on every hand." ”

“ Yet if he could only see Fanny Glen again! Why did she not send some one to inquire as to his whereabouts? Surely she might ask after his welfare. She must know he was under arrest. Why could she not come herself? He was sacrificing himself for her, to preserve her freedom, ay, her honor and reputation. She might not love him, but at least she might have manifested a decent interest in his fate. The barest politeness ought to make a woman take some thought for a man who was about to be shot for her sake, he thought bitterly. ”

“ As I said, Miss Glen, it is a choice between us. Do not choose me, if you should be so fatuously inclined, because I happen to have had some chances for distinction, for I assure you, on my honor, all there is left of it, that if Sempland gets half a chance he'll do better than I. Choose because you love him—or me."
The girl stared from one to the other in indignant bewilderment. Lacy was an ideal lover. Sempland looked like a stern master, and she hated a master. She made a half step toward the handsomer and weaker man, and a half turn toward the homelier and stronger. ”

“ If we do get out alive, our country will reward us. If we do not, she will not forget us. Shake hands, now. Good-by, and God bless you. Put every pound of muscle you have into that crank when we get within one hundred yards of the frigate, and jump the boat into her. I'll give the signal. I want to strike her hard."
"Ay, ay, sir," replied the seamen as cheerfully as if there was only a frolic before them. "We'll do our best. Good-by, and God bless you, sir. We're proud to serve under you whatever comes."
"Thank you. All ready with the torpedo, Captain?"
"Yes, Major Lacy." ”

“ Few women have done more for the South than you, and there is still much to do. Work will assuage your grief," continued the general, laying his hand tenderly upon the bowed head. "You will always have the deathless memory of his heroism."
"Oh!" cried the woman, throwing back her head, "you are wrong. You do not know, you do not understand. I honored Major Lacy, I rejoiced in his courage, but I did not love him. It is not he that I think of. It is my father."
"Your father? What do you mean?"
"Admiral Vernon."
"What!"
"Yes, he is my father. My name is Fanny Glen Vernon." ”

“ Sempland bowed to the inevitable.
"You have said," he began, "that you did not believe I was a coward, nor a traitor. If you will not allow the stigma of either of these charges to rest upon me, I will bear with equanimity whatever punishment the court-martial may award."
"Even to loss of life?"
"Yes, sir."
"Very well," said the general, shrugging his shoulders, a trick of his French ancestry. "I have done my best, Mr. Sempland, for you. As to my personal beliefs, I can and will express them, but I cannot tell whether the court-martial will receive them or not. Will nothing move you?" ”

“ The awe-struck faces of the blacks peered into the room.
"Throw down your arms, here at my feet, you black hounds!" shouted Sempland. "Quick! Or I fire!"
Instantly knife, pistol, and bludgeon clattered on the floor at his feet.
"Out of the way now! Leave the hall! I want a clear passage!"
"Kill me! Kill me!" cried the girl, "and have done!"
He released her in a moment.
"You have dishonored me," he cried. "I fear it is too late. I wouldn't hurt a hair of your head. But I love you, I love you!"
He strained her to his breast, pressing a passionate, burning kiss upon her lips. ”

“ I thought if I could detain him a night—get some delay—I would come here in the morning and tell you the truth and ask you to spare my father."
"Miss Glen," said the little general, "I would not spare my own father if my duty demanded that he be sacrificed."
"I suppose so. You are a man, you cannot understand. I am a woman. There were but two I loved on earth. I was ashamed of my father, but I loved him. Four years of war have taught me other things. I am sorry that he did not go with the South, but it is not for me to judge him. ”

“ She was surprised that Sempland had not been immediately summoned to the general's presence when she had been put under guard. She supposed, however, that the delay was due to some military technicality, and she imagined that the next moment would see him called from the room in her presence. And she would be left alone, most miserably, forlornly alone to face her fate.
Being a martyr is certainly a fine thing, but the position loses half its charm unless people know it. To complete her melancholy satisfaction, he—and he considered himself the martyr, not she!—must recognize it. ”

“ Love, in its freshness, would make her a willing slave; for how long, events only could determine. For some women a lifetime, for others but an hour, can elapse before the chains turn from adornments to shackles.
The anger that Miss Fanny Glen felt at this particular moment gave her a temporary reassurance as to some questions which had agitated her—how much she cared, after all, for Lieutenant Rhett Sempland, and did she like him better than Major Harry Lacy? Both questions were instantly decided in the negative—for the time being. She hated Rhett Sempland ”

“ Fanny Glen sank back in the chair. She almost lost consciousness in her agony. She murmured strange and incoherent words. The general did not understand them, but he rose, came to her side, bent over her and took her hand, patting it softly.
"I know, I know, my dear child," he said gently, "how you must suffer. Many another woman has had to give up her heart's desire for our beloved country. ”

“ Tell me, and, by heavens, I'll make such an example of the traitor as will never be forgotten in South Carolina or the Confederacy!"
"I cannot, sir."
"Think! Your rank, your honor, it may be your life, all depend upon your reply. You are concealing something from me. You do not answer," continued Beauregard, keenly scanning the face of the young man standing before him in stubborn silence. "I see that you are shielding some one, sheltering some unworthy person. Who is it?"
Still no answer. The general's patience was gradually vanishing in the face of such obstinacy. ”

“ At the hospital, then, like Lacy, he too had fallen in love with Miss Fanny Glen.
By rights the hero—not of this story, perhaps, but the real hero—was much the handsomer of the two. It is always so in romances; and romances—good ones, that is—are the reflex of life. Such a combination of manly beauty with unshakable courage and reckless audacity was not often seen as Lacy exhibited. Sempland was homely. Lacy had French and Irish blood in him, and he showed it. Sempland was a mixture of sturdy Dutch and English stock. ”

“ Sempland," he began with impressive and deliberate gravity, carefully weighing his words that they might make the deeper impression upon the younger man, for whom he felt profound pity, "you bear one of the noblest names in the commonwealth. I knew your father and your grandfather. They were men of the highest courage and of unimpeachable honor. Their devotion to the South cannot be questioned. I grieve more than I can say to find you in so equivocal a position. I am convinced that there is some explanation for it, and I ask you, not as your general, but as your friend, to disclose it to me." ”

“ THE HOUR AND THE MAN
Lacy tore off his coat and vest, and threw them on the wharf, saluted the general and stepped into the boat. Some one in the group lifted a lantern. The flickering light fell on the pale faces of the determined men.
"Good-by, sir," said Beauregard. "You, at least, are an officer, a soldier of whom the South is proud. Remember the flagship is your game. She lies at anchor right off the Main Ship Channel. Good luck to you. A colonel's shoulder straps await you here if you come back. God bless you all!" ”

“ To have restrained him by force was an act of high treason. He could only explain himself by implicating the woman he loved. The consequences in either case were dreadful. Fanny Glen a traitor to the South? Beauregard was a stern, inexorable soldier. He would not condone such an offence as hers. That she had failed in her effort to prevent the expedition would mean nothing to the general. Fanny Glen, the pride of Charleston, the woman who had done more for the South than any other woman in the Carolinas, perhaps, to be disgraced, certainly to be punished, it might be—shot! ”

“ On the threshold stood General Beauregard himself, his visage charged with an unusual degree of solemnity. Back of him were grouped the members of his staff and others who had been on the wharf the night before. They were all in full uniform and made a most impressive sight. It was a highly dramatic moment, full of menace to the woman. As for Sempland, he scarcely comprehended it.
"The court-martial!" whispered Fanny Glen, fearfully, instinctively shrinking closer to Sempland as she spoke. ”

“ They found the torpedo boat with her nose pointed toward the hole she had torn in the side of the ship, about a hundred feet away from the wrecked sloop-of-war. She had been riddled with bullets and shattered by the explosion of her own torpedo. She was, of course, filled with water, and in her, at their stations, they found the bodies of her devoted crew, Lacy with his hand on the wheel.
Nothing in life had so become Lacy as the ending of it. It is a proverb that the good men do lies buried with them, the evil is long remembered. ”

“ THE CULPRIT IS ARRESTED
"General Beauregard," she whispered at last, "I am the traitor. He was detained by me."
"That doesn't excuse him," said the general, severely. "Any man who fails in his duty because he succumbs to a woman's wiles, even though that woman loves him, has no plea to urge in justification. He is a soldier. His duty to obey orders is first of all."
"But—but—you don't understand. I—I—kept him there by force, sir. Major Lacy told me of the expedition—he and Mr. Sempland had called upon me in the afternoon. ”

“ What did you say, Miss Glen?" continued Lacy, turning to that young woman.
"I told him it wasn't true!" burst out the girl, impetuously.
"Ah, but it is," said Lacy, softly. "I am all that he says, and more, too."
"But look at what you have done."
"But little, after all. I heard you reproaching Sempland for what he had not done when I came in. That isn't fair. No braver man lives than Rhett Sempland. Why, did it not take courage to defy me, to tell me to my face that I was a scoundrel, a blackguard? ”

“ I want some way to get out of this life with honor. I leave the field for you."
"She doesn't love—"
"You're a fool, Sempland—forgive me—about that woman. I know women better than you. Not so much the good as the bad, but in some things women are alike, a woman is a woman whatever she does. That girl loves the ground you walk on." ”

“ A STRIFE IN MAGNANIMITY
"Well, Sempland," said Lacy, with astonishing courtesy and forbearance under all the circumstances, as he overtook the other man plodding along the shaded street, "you don't seem to be in much greater favor with the young lady than I."
"Lacy," returned the other, "you did well this evening. You are not good enough for Miss Glen, I still think. Nobody is, for that matter, but you less than others. ”

“ Harry," went on the other man, unconsciously dropping into the familiar form of boyhood, which caused Lacy's face to flush with pleasure, "I am sure she loves you. I thought it was I, at first, but since this afternoon I have changed my mind. Why can't you be different? You are not a fit man to marry any honest woman now, and when I thought of your record I doubted that you ever would be. I was sure you would not, but—see here, old man! Throw the past aside! A fellow that's got it in him to do what you have done for the South—why can't you control yourself? ”

“ One officer is enough, and you could not do any good by going along. I should be in command—"
"Let me go in your place!"
"Nonsense! It's almost certain death."
"I don't care. It's my chance. I can run the thing as well as you."
"Oh, anybody can run the thing, for that matter."
"My life is of no more value to the South or to me than yours. Come! You have had your chances, and improved them; give this to me."
Lacy hesitated.
"Sempland, you're a fool, as I said before. You're running away from the woman who loves you. You're risking your life." ”