CHAPTER VI.

_The Gunpowder Plot and the Conspirator._ _The Mystery Unfolding._

JUST as the fading twilight was yielding to darkness, and before Lieutenant Wells had been removed from his cell by request of Alibamo, a scene occurred to which we must revert.

The room in which Wells was placed was in the wing of a log-house, just in the rear of the brick school-house to which we have alluded. Two doors led from this apartment, one opening into the garden, the other into the main building. This latter door had been firmly secured. Near that opening into the garden, was a small window, the only one in the apartment. As the guard was stationed at the door, escape from the room was impossible. Surrounding this garden were a number of hedges running in various directions, some of them forming the street fence, while others ornamented the winding gravel walks.

As soon as it was quite dark, a person closely enveloped and disguised, emerged from among the tents, and passed cautiously along in the still intenser darkness of the hedge shadow. Ever and anon he would pause and listen. Finally he reached the further hedge, remote from the camp. He paused a moment, and then gave a low and peculiar whistle. It was immediately answered, and two men joined the first comer.

“Are you ready?”

“No!” was the answer.

“And why not?”

“Because we have not received our pay.”

“Is that the _only_ reason?”

“The only reason after you have given us full instructions.”

“Where is your powder?”

“In the upper part of the garden, under the hedge. We have secured eight twelve pound shells which we took from that battery over yonder. Powder enough to blow a mountain to the devil.”

“Well, here is a hundred apiece. When the job is done, you will find as much more in the hollow log that I pointed out last night. Be careful and make sure work!”

“Well, your instructions!”

“You will follow the outer hedge. Creep along with great caution, and make no noise. There will be no danger, as the guard are not on the north side of the camp. When you reach the log-building in the rear of the brick school-house, you will observe a small wing, or addition, extending to the rear. At the back of this wing you will find an excavation under the house sufficiently large for your shells. Place them in it, lay your train, and then apply the torch. But you must do this with great caution, as a guard is stationed upon the opposite side.”

“Don’t be alarmed. Any one near that old log-shanty will go to kingdom come before to-morrow morning.”

The trio then separated.

* * * * *

When Captain Walker was seized and chained by the soldiers, he made a desperate resistance, but in vain. He soon occupied the little room vacated by Lieutenant Wells. The door closed; he heard the clanking of the heavy chains which secured it, and left him in utter darkness. He stamped, and raved and cursed. Suddenly starting, and wildly clutching his throat, as if some terrible thought had crossed his mind, he groaned and sunk upon the floor.

“Fool! oh! fool that I was! I thought if I _pretended_ friendship, and offered to assist in his escape, all suspicion of this night’s work would be diverted from me. But now—oh! my God! What is the hour? Hark! I hear them working under the building! No! it is not the men yet. It is too early. I dare not tell the guard, for an acknowledgment of any suspicion of such a plot would be a confession of _my_ guilt. Let me search for some mode of escape!”

Walker crawled cautiously around the floor, but not a crevice could be found. Finally, exhausted, he sunk down, giving way to his utter despair. An hour—two hours—dragged slowly by, which appeared an age of misery to the wretched man.

“If I give the alarm, even saying that a peculiar sound attracted my attention, the ruffians who are to do the work, will recognize me, and I shall, thus implicated, suffer an ignominious death! What is that? Great God! they are at work! But they are making so much noise that the guard will hear them, and I shall yet be saved!”

“Don’t make quite so much noise in there, if you please!” exclaimed the guard, as he knocked upon the door where he was stationed.

“It is not me!” yelled the frantic man. “Some one is at the rear of the building, trying to dig through—they want to kill me!”

“We will see about that!” replied the guard, as he left his post, and walked toward the spot indicated.

Walker fell upon his knees and exclaimed:

“Oh! I am saved—saved that dreadful death!”

He bent down, and applying his ear to a small crevice between the logs, where the mud-mortar had fallen out, he listened. He could distinctly hear the words spoken.

“Have you silenced that d—d guard?” was asked.

“Yes, cut his wizzen. No danger. Hurry with the train of powder!”

“Gentlemen!” yelled Walker, “don’t go any further. I am not the man!”

“Quick—fire the train!” exclaimed a voice outside.

A flash was seen, and then another said:

“Curse it, the train has failed. Throw the torch among the shells, and then run!”

Walker waited to hear no more, but throwing himself with all his violence against the door, he set up a series of yells, which made the camp ring. In a moment steps were heard, the door was thrown open, and Walker, livid with fear, and frantic, staggered into the open air, gasping for breath. When he had sufficiently recovered his fright to listen, the commander of the squad said:

“The powder-plot has been discovered, sir. There is no further danger on that head. But you will return to your cell!”

This order Walker was compelled to obey, and he was again left in darkness, with feelings better imagined than described.

* * * * *

The night wore slowly away. Lieutenant Wells had retired to his own tent. His calmness of demeanor certainly did not indicate a guilty mind. Alibamo, too, was wakeful, and strove by every possible kindness to sustain the heart and hopes of her suffering companion. Miss Nettie Morton, who had so recently joined their society, was occupying a tent in company with Miss Sally Long, near that of Mrs. Hinton. They also, were watchful—anxious for the morrow. But, perhaps, the most wretched person in that camp was Captain Hugh Walker. No officer would have dared to place irons upon him and confine him in a rough cell, upon any slight pretext. Was it not possible that something of a serious character had been discovered against him? This surmise seemed to haunt him, for he acted in a manner to indicate the wildest apprehensions of danger.

Morning came at last, and slowly the day advanced. A guard brought Walker his breakfast, but the man refused to answer any question. During the afternoon he heard the beating of the drums, and the bugle-blast, which he well understood was calling the division together for some important purpose. He felt satisfied that one object was the reading of the finding of the court-martial in the case of Lieutenant Wells. But, what part was _he_ to play in the scene? This was the question which caused his heart to beat with violence, as the chains fell from the door of his prison, and he was called forth.

He accompanied the guard in silence, and soon entered the hollow square formed by the three brigades of the division. Walker glanced eagerly around, and there, standing beside the commanding General, was Lieutenant Wells, with Miss Hayward leaning upon his arm, and near them were their female friends. But a few paces distant were the two ruffians who had been engaged in the powder-plot. All was silent. The General advanced and said:

“Preliminary to other proceedings, I wish to ask Captain Walker if he ever before saw these two men?”

The ruffians advanced, rattling their chains. But Walker drew back, and with forced calmness he replied:

“I never have!” He dropped his head, gazing upon the ground.

The adjutant who held the sealed orders of the court-martial by which Lieutenant Wells had been tried, then advanced, and was about to commence reading the document in his hand, when a series of yells were heard, and in the distance was seen the grotesque form of Nettleton, as he came bounding along and bellowing:

“Stop the shootin’! Stop the shootin’!”

It was well known throughout the army that Nettleton had remained behind in search of Captain Hayward. As he approached, the most intense excitement was manifest. Lieutenant Wells could scarcely control his feelings, and would have rushed forward to meet Nettleton, had not Mrs. Hinton gently laid her hand upon his arm, begging him to be calm. Miss Hayward clung closer to her lover, as she hoped the news about to be brought by her brother’s friend would relieve her agony of suspense. A half-suppressed cheer broke from the soldiers, as Nettleton burst into the square.

He paused for a moment, his breast heaving, and his eyes glaring wildly. But an instant was sufficient for him to discover that Wells was yet alive, and that the object of his suspicion also lived. He sprung forward, and, without uttering a word, seized Walker by the foot, which he at once drew under his arm; then he as suddenly bounded for the spot where the commandant was standing, dragging the foot along with him.

Of course this sudden movement on the part of Nettleton had thrown Walker violently upon his head, and, although he kicked, and squirmed and cursed, he was dragged along as if he had been a child.

When Nettleton reached the commander, he held the foot of Walker within a few inches of that officer’s face, and yelled:

“Look! look! General—see them boots!”

Notwithstanding the intense anxiety felt for the result of Nettleton’s search, the ridiculous figure he presented in his eagerness, and that of Walker who was twisting and struggling to escape, a general laugh ran through the division, which was joined in by the commander. Even Wells could not suppress a smile.

“And what about those boots?” asked the commander, after silence had been restored.

“Why, I’ve blacked them!” yelled Nettleton.

Another laugh was heard along the line.

“No doubt you have blacked them. But what of this?”

“Why, General, don’t you see them _two hearts_ made with nails, on the sole of that boot?”

“Certainly I see them. And what then?”

Walker was now permitted to resume his upright position, and he stood trembling with fear and rage, as Nettleton went on to relate his first suspicions of Walker, his search for the body of Captain Hayward, his finding the impression of the footprints standing side by side in the mud, at the edge of the stream, with the marks of _two hearts_ in the sole of each boot; and then the finding of the handkerchief in the water, which Nettleton then produced.

The officer took the white linen witness, examining it closely, and then said:

“Here is the name of ‘Walker,’ in the corner. William, did you find this _near_ the place where the murder was committed?”

“Right by the spot where them two boots stood!” replied Nettleton, pointing to Walker’s feet.

“I can explain this,” exclaimed Walker. “I went to the river that day to wash, and I stood upon the bank to do so. I presume I left the impression of my boots there at that time. If I did not, was I not also present in the morning to examine the spot where the murder had been committed? And is it a wonder that the impression of my boots should be left behind?”

“That is certainly true,” replied the General. “But of the handkerchief?”

“It fell from my hands as I was washing, and I did not take the trouble to recover it.”

“It is very probable!” replied the General.

“So you perceive,” replied Walker, as he appeared to gain courage, “your trumped up evidence has fallen to the ground! I did not expect a combination of both officers and men against me, but I find it so. And they wish to see _me_ suffer for the bloody deed done by that coward. The only reason I can assign for this persecution is, that he is in favor with the _ladies_, and you, sycophants that you are, hope, through him, to gain favor with his fair companions. No doubt some bargain to that effect already has been effected!”

Captain Walker had by this time become eloquent, and defiant. Nettleton, with his too eager perceptions, had failed to foresee the possible fallacy of his proofs, for hope and prejudice together had prevented any calm examination of his evidence. With a sorrowful and troubled look, he turned away. This gave Walker greater confidence, and, in a loud but hoarse voice he cried:

“And now I demand justice!”

“Which you shall have,” replied the General. “But first answer me; how did this handkerchief, which bears your name, and which you confess to having used in the stream, become _bloody_?”

That was another point of interest, and Nettleton paused to listen attentively.

“I had a bleeding at the nose, and the reason I threw the dirty thing away, was, I did not think it worth washing!”

“Then some person must have recovered it, washed it very carefully, and thrown it into the stream again, for _there is_ NO _blood upon it_!”

Walker attempted a reply, but his utterance failed. The General enjoined silence, and then stepping forward he said, in a voice sufficiently loud to be heard by all present:

“Captain Walker, I must sum up, before you, the evidence of crimes you have committed, which have no parallel in the history of the army, or of crimes which have ever been, or attempted to be committed in any civilized country. I would give you the benefit of a court-martial, were there any doubt of your guilt, and even _now_ may _order_ a trial, but it will only be a formal one. You had better confess your guilt, here, before all—ask their pardon—make reparation to those you have most injured, and die repentant!”

“I have nothing to confess!” responded Walker, bitterly.

“Have you no fear of the revelations of these two soldiers?” asked the General, pointing to the chained ruffians.

“I have no fear! No doubt they have been bribed to conspire with you! But, vent your spite! Go on!”

“Then, Captain Walker, I will briefly enumerate the circumstances which have been developed, as well as the _facts_. The morning we left Grand Prairie you were in command of the squad which escorted the prisoner, Lieutenant Edward Wells. You had not proceeded far when you were overtaken by two men. It was a very easy matter to secure an audience with you as you were in the rear of the division. They suggested that you should deliver Lieutenant Wells to them, as their commander had an especial spite against him, and wished to secure his person. You asked these men (I refer to the two ruffians now in chains and standing by your side,) how they dared to approach you on such a subject, and they replied that they had _witnessed your act_ the evening previous, and that you need not put on airs with them! You then requested these fellows to meet you the next evening at the upper hedge. You instructed them to secure a number of pounds of powder for some purpose, which you would then explain. You met them the next evening. You gave them instructions. They were about to act upon them, when your outcries from the cell in which _you_ had been placed, and which Lieutenant Wells had left only a short time previously, attracted the attention of the guard, and you were rescued. Prior to this you had offered to assist Lieutenant Wells to escape, but you wished him to return to his cell and remain until two or three o’clock. The fiendish act was to be committed between twelve and one. You _pretended_ friendship, that all suspicion of the act might be diverted from you. Have I spoken correctly, sir?”

“No doubt you have spoken according to the story of those ruffians!” replied Walker. “You can not bring against me any _respectable_ proof. I look to a court for the justice which I have no reason to expect here.”

“Look!”

Walker, who had been shaking like a guilty wretch during the speech of the commander, turned in the direction indicated. The rough garb had fallen from the ruffians; their chains were thrown aside, and, to his astonishment and horror, there stood two of the regimental Union officers, ADJUTANT HINTON, the husband of Alibamo, and his friend, CAPTAIN CLARK!

Walker, who now saw how he had been entrapped, and detected in his infamy, for a moment was utterly unmanned. But, his resolute nature soon triumphed over his fear. Well realizing that penitence could not save him, he sprung to his feet and said:

“This is all a miserable, contemptible conspiracy—an effort to make out a case against me to shield that woman’s pet from the consequences of his clearly proven crime. Hayward is dead, and can not be made to answer, else—”

“You lie, you dirty, nasty, murderin’ skunk!”

“What!” exclaimed a dozen voices.

“He lies! the coward that stabs a man in the dark! Hayward is not dead, but lives, and will soon by his evidence send this murderer to kingdom come!”

With a shriek Miss Hayward bounded forward, and fell at the feet of Nettleton, grasping his hands. Wells, who had borne bravely up until this moment, covered his face, and wept tears of joy and of relief from the imputation of crime. Sally Long sprung to the side of Nettleton, and, throwing her arms around his neck she gave him a hearty kiss, which caused him to roll up his green eyes, and appear in almost as much agony as if he had been struck in the stomach with a cannon-ball. The word was soon passed, and the soldiers, catching the fire, made the very welkin ring with their shouts, while the band chimed in with the stirring strain: “Hail to the Chief!”