<h2 id="V">CHAPTER V.<br/>A CHANGE OF SITUATIONS.</h2></div>
<p>Crothers as usual brought me my
meals, and in that respect I was well
treated. The night passed without event,
and the next morning I was allowed to
take a walk around the fort between
Crothers and another soldier, but I saw
nothing of either the colonel or his
daughter. I tried to pump Crothers,
but he was proof against my most skilful
questions, and when I returned to
my room I could boast no increase of
knowledge. Yet I was not much depressed.
I comforted myself with the
old reflection that it was the year of
peace 1896, and I would not become
really alarmed until I stood up before<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[112]</SPAN></span>
a file of the colonel's men and looked
into the muzzles of their rifles.</p>
<p>I received a visit the next morning
from the colonel himself. His manner
was still of a piece with that he had
shown on the return march from the
mountains, marked by a certain haughtiness
and reserve differing much from the
fiery temperament characteristic of him.</p>
<p>"Well, am I to be shot to-day, colonel?"
I asked, and I think I asked it
cheerfully, for, mark you, I had returned
to my old state of incredulity.</p>
<p>"Not to-day," he said. "I have decided
to postpone it until I find out
where the treason in my garrison lies.
You can see that your death might be
in the way of my investigation."</p>
<p>I could see it with ease, and I was
glad that it was so.</p>
<p>He asked me a lot of questions which
he intended to be adroit, but I saw their
drift clearly enough, and led him further
astray. When he was through he knew<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[113]</SPAN></span>
less than ever about my rescuer, and I let
him think it was one of his men.</p>
<p>"I shall discover the man by to-morrow,"
he said, with a show of confidence
which was but a show, "and his fate
shall be severe enough to put a stop to
any leanings others may have the same
way."</p>
<p>Three days more passed in this manner.
I was permitted to take two walks
daily around the fort in the company of
Crothers and another man, but, as before,
I could obtain no information from
them, and I remained in ignorance of
the colonel's progress or lack of progress
with his secret service.</p>
<p>On the fourth day my door was abruptly
thrown open, and Grace Hetherill
entered. Her face showed great excitement.
The door was not closed behind
her, but stood wide open, and I noticed
that no sentry was in the hall. I was
convinced that something of importance
had happened.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[114]</SPAN></span></p>
<p>"Mr. West," she said, "we need your
help."</p>
<p>"My help," I exclaimed, involuntarily.
"How can I, who need it so much
myself, give anybody help?"</p>
<p>"But you can," she cried. "There is
trouble in Fort Defiance."</p>
<p>Then, her first flush of excitement
over, she told me the story calmly. She
was not long in the telling.</p>
<p>Her hint to her father that Dr. Ambrose
might have been the man who
assisted in my escape had produced
greater results than she expected. The
old colonel had watched the doctor
closely, and at last had accused him of
treason to the Confederate government.
Thereupon the doctor, who was superior
in intelligence and information to the
other men, and knew what was passing
in the world, had advised him to free me,
and to haul down the stars and bars, as
the cause was lost beyond the hope of
revival.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[115]</SPAN></span></p>
<p>"My father flew into a terrible rage,"
said Grace. "He ordered that Dr. Ambrose
be locked up at once, and it is his
intention to have him shot when he
shoots you."</p>
<p>"Miss Hetherill," I said, "you must
tell your father that Dr. Ambrose had
nothing to do with my escape."</p>
<p>"That would do no good now," she
said, "and might do harm. It would
not help Dr. Ambrose, for my father
regards his proposition to surrender as
the worst treason of all, and if I were to
say that it was I and not the doctor who
helped you, he would not believe me."</p>
<p>This put a new phase on the matter.
I felt very sorry for the doctor, who had
got himself into trouble on my account.
I did not know what to say, but Miss
Hetherill interpreted my look.</p>
<p>"Do not fear for Dr. Ambrose," she
said. "Some of the men have begun
to be of his way of thinking, and my
father will not be able to carry out his<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[116]</SPAN></span>
sentence against either the doctor or
you."</p>
<p>I understood at once. A revolt was
threatened in the camp, and her fear was
neither for the doctor nor for me, but for
her father. I felt rather cheap.</p>
<p>"I will help you all I can, Miss
Hetherill," I said, a little stiffly, "but I
fail to see anything that I can do. As
you know, I am a prisoner here."</p>
<p>"But you are not as strictly guarded
as you were," she said. "My father's
rage against Dr. Ambrose has withdrawn
his attention from you, and within a day
you may have another chance to escape.
He wants you to come now and testify
against Dr. Ambrose."</p>
<p>"I cannot do that," I said.</p>
<p>"I do not want you to do so," she
said, quickly. "You must say that you
made your escape without help, that you
picked the lock of your door,—or anything
else you choose to say."</p>
<p>It was a falsehood she asked me to<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[117]</SPAN></span>
tell, but I was willing to tell it, since the
interests of four persons were involved
in it,—hers, the doctor's, mine, and, not
least of all, the colonel's. Truly my
coming had aroused a mighty commotion
in the house of Colonel Hetherill,
C.S.A., and perhaps too had opened it to
new ideas. It had never occurred to me
before that I was such an important personage.</p>
<p>I followed Miss Hetherill to the second
sitting of the military court in the
trial-room, though this time as a witness
and not as the accused.</p>
<p>The colonel was majestic at the head
of the table. He was in a splendid gray
uniform, gay with gold lace, as if he
deemed the occasion worthy of his best
appearance. Crothers had taken the
place of Dr. Ambrose as secretary, and
the doctor himself was at the foot of the
table.</p>
<p>The examination was brief, and to the
colonel very unsatisfactory. I made a<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[118]</SPAN></span>
poor witness. I denied that any one had
helped me, and the doctor with equal
emphasis denied complicity. The colonel
frowned at me, but the doctor received
the larger share of his attention,
and I was of the opinion that the colonel
considered him a greater villain than
myself, as I was an enemy by birth,
while the doctor was a household traitor.</p>
<p>"You do not deny making to me the
proposition that we surrender to the Federal
government?" finally said the colonel.</p>
<p>"Not at all," said the doctor, firmly.
"That was my suggestion, and I repeat
it. We alone are holding out. What
chance have we ever to carry our cause
through to success?"</p>
<p>Colonel Hetherill looked around at
his men as if he feared the effect of those
words upon them. They were impassive,
though I inferred from what Grace had
said that several were beginning to share
the doctor's way of thinking.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[119]</SPAN></span></p>
<p>"Your answer," said the colonel to
Dr. Ambrose, "is sufficient proof of
treasonable designs. The answer itself
I consider treason. I will hear no more."</p>
<p>He promptly dissolved the court, ordered
Dr. Ambrose and myself to be
locked up again, and refused to listen to
anything his daughter wished to say.
What further steps he took I did not
know then, for under escort I passed on
to my room and was out of sight and
hearing.</p>
<p>That evening Grace came to my room
again, and, as before, she was visibly
under the influence of strong emotion.</p>
<p>"You must escape again to-night,"
she said, "and this time you must not be
overtaken. I have arranged everything,
and it will be easy enough for you to
reach the mountains."</p>
<p>"What will become of Dr. Ambrose?"
I asked.</p>
<p>"We will save him, too, though I do
not yet know how," she said.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[120]</SPAN></span></p>
<p>The doctor had taken his risk partly
on my account, and I did not feel like
abandoning him in danger. I am willing
to admit also that I wanted to see how
events at Fort Defiance would culminate.
So I refused to leave the fort. My refusal
greatly disturbed Grace, and she
begged me to go. Her cheeks were
flushed, her eyes luminous, and she
looked very beautiful.</p>
<p>"Would you have me think of myself
alone?" I asked. "It is true that I
seem to have brought trouble here, but I
can't cure it by slipping away to-night.
I mean to stay."</p>
<p>She had nothing more to say, but one
look she gave me seemed to approve of
my decision. She left the room hastily,
and I did not hear the key turn in the
lock. I tried the door, and found that
it was not locked. Through neglect or
intention, I was free to go about Fort
Defiance, and I inferred that the colonel's
affairs in truth were in a critical state, if<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[121]</SPAN></span>
so little attention was paid to me. I
looked out in the hall, but saw no one.
I walked lightly to the top of the stair-case,
but, hearing voices below, concluded
it would be best to return to my
room. From the window I saw that the
drawbridge was up, and I doubted the
chances of escape, even had I wished
it.</p>
<p>I remained there an hour or so, trying
to decide upon the wisest course. Unable
to come to any decision, I went
into the hall again for lack of something
better to do. From the top of the stair-case
I heard voices in loud and excited
conversation. I crept half-way down
the steps. I stopped there to listen further,
and feeling sure that some event
of great importance had happened, I
walked boldly all the way down.</p>
<p>The front door, which looked out
upon the little brass cannon, was wide
open. Grace and Crothers stood near it,
talking in hurried and excited tones. A<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_122" id="Page_122">[122]</SPAN></span>
half-dozen soldiers were about them, and
occasionally they said something as if by
way of suggestion. They paid no attention
to me until I came so close that
Grace herself could not help noticing
me.</p>
<p>"Oh, Mr. West!" she cried. "We
are so glad you are here now!"</p>
<p>Naturally I was full of interest and
curiosity, and asked the cause of the
trouble. Then they told me that Dr.
Ambrose had escaped, by the connivance
of some one, I guessed, and had fled to
the mountains. The colonel, discovering
his escape, had called upon his men
to pursue him, and if necessary shoot
him on sight. They had refused unanimously
to go, and the colonel in his
rage had taken his old army rifle and
had gone alone.</p>
<p>Here in truth was a pretty muddle.
The colonel's state of mind was such
that without doubt he would shoot the
doctor if he found an opportunity,<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[123]</SPAN></span>
which would be a double tragedy to all
the people of Fort Defiance.</p>
<p>"The colonel must be pursued and
overtaken," I said.</p>
<p>"At once," said Grace, with an emphasis
that showed I had only seconded
her own argument.</p>
<p>Crothers and all the others looked at
me as if waiting for a suggestion. I
seemed by an easy transition to change
from the prisoner of Fort Defiance to its
chief. Since they looked upon me as
such, that I decided to be.</p>
<p>"What road did the colonel take?"
I asked of Crothers.</p>
<p>"There is only one passable way out
of the mountains," replied Crothers;
"the one you followed. We know that
both the doctor and the colonel took it."</p>
<p>I saw a look of intelligence pass between
him and Grace, and I wondered
no longer at the doctor's escape or his
destination. Our duty and the method
of doing it were plainly before us.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[124]</SPAN></span></p>
<p>It required but a few minutes for me
to organize our search and rescue expedition.
I made Crothers my lieutenant,
and took all but four men, leaving these
to care for the house. Food enough
for several days and blankets for the
night were collected hastily, and then we
were ready. Miss Hetherill approached
cloaked and hooded. To my protest
she replied with much firmness that she
was going with us.</p>
<p>"But the road over these mountains
is not fit for a lady to travel," I said.</p>
<p>"I have been over that road often,
and I know these mountains much better
than you, Mr. West," she replied.</p>
<p>I could not dispute her assertion, and
moreover her presence would be useful
to us in certain contingencies. She was
a strong, active girl; and I made no further
objection. We left the house; the
drawbridge was lowered to let us pass,
and when we had crossed was raised
again.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[125]</SPAN></span></p>
<p>In a few minutes we were out of the
valley and in the mountains, following
the old road. As it was my second
journey, I saw how easy it was for the
colonel and his men to pursue and overtake
me. It was the only real road
through the mountains, and one followed
it as naturally as the waters of a brook
flow down its channel.</p>
<p>"How long a start of us has the colonel?"
I asked.</p>
<p>"Not more than an hour," replied
Crothers; "but he is strong, in spite of
his age, and a good mountaineer. I
guess he can go faster than we can."</p>
<p>It is true that one man, other things
being equal, can travel faster than half a
dozen who stick together, and in it lay
the danger that the colonel would out-foot
us. But there was consolation in
the thought that Dr. Ambrose had the
same advantage.</p>
<p>It was an indifferent night, neither very
clear nor very dark. There was light<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[126]</SPAN></span>
enough to show the peaks and the
ravines, but only to distort them. I let
Crothers, who knew the way, take the
lead, and I dropped back by the side of
Miss Hetherill. We were silent for
some time; then I made a lame apology
for blundering upon Fort Defiance and
bringing such trouble to its inmates.</p>
<p>"It is not your fault that you came,
Mr. West," she said, "and even if you
had come by intention we would have
no right to complain. Something of
the kind was bound to happen some
day."</p>
<p>I was glad that she admitted the
abnormal conditions of Fort Defiance.
That she knew them was obvious, for
she had passed but little of her life there
and knew the swing of the world.</p>
<p>We made speed, despite the roughness
of the way. Some mists or fine clouds
sifted before the moon, and the visible
world became small. But we went on
without uncertainty. The fugitive could<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[127]</SPAN></span>
not well turn from the path, nor could
the pursuer.</p>
<p>I saw Crothers looking up at the
white, silky clouds: once he shook his
head doubtfully, but I did not ask him
his thought. With plenty of company,
the mountains did not impress or awe
me as on the night of my flight. Once
our course dipped into a little valley down
which a brook trickled. In the soft
earth on either side of it the vigilant
Crothers saw footsteps which he said
were those of two men. We knew the
two men must be the doctor and the
colonel.</p>
<p>"I should judge from those footprints,
though I can't tell precisely," said
Crothers, "that we haven't gained anything
on them."</p>
<p>This was somewhat discouraging, and
our enthusiasm did not grow when the
path, after leaving the valley, or rather
slit in the hills, led up a very steep and
long slope. Our muscles relaxed under<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[128]</SPAN></span>
the strain, and the breath came in irregular
puffs. I was very tired, but I was
not willing to own it, especially as I saw
Grace walking with still vigorous step.
She had told the truth when she said she
was a better mountaineer than I.</p>
<p>The mists thickened. The moon was
but a faint glimmer through them, and
they drifted like lazy clouds. Our world
narrowed again, and instinctively we
walked very close together. It was like
a fog at sea; the damp of it carried a
raw penetrating chill. There was no
wind to moan or sing through the
ravines; the mountains were silent save
for ourselves. Crothers suggested a
light, and produced from under his coat
the torch with which he had provided
himself in view of such emergency. It
was a long stick, soaked in some compound
of tar and turpentine, and when
he lighted one end and held it aloft it
burned with energy, casting a bright,
cheerful light.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[129]</SPAN></span></p>
<p>Nevertheless we shivered in our
clothes; the chill in the air was insistent,
and the mist was soaking into the
ground and the autumn foliage. All
the world seemed to be a-sweat, and,
poor woodsman as I was, I knew that
this had its perils. Pneumonia is not
picturesque, but it is very dangerous.</p>
<p>Crothers looked at me several times
as if he expected me to make a suggestion,
but, though by common consent
I was the leader of the party, I waited
for him to make it, as he knew more
about mountains and forests than I.
But we plodded on for a long time before
he spoke. Then he announced that
we must stop for a while and build a
fire.</p>
<p>"If we don't," he said, "we'll be
soaked through and through with the
cold mist, and in another hour some of
us will be shaking with the chills and
fever."</p>
<p>Grace protested against stopping.<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_130" id="Page_130">[130]</SPAN></span>
She was in the greatest alarm lest a
tragedy should happen ahead of us, but,
while we felt the same fear, we recognized
also the truth of the old maxim
about the futility of too much haste.
I pointed out the dangers to her, and
urged that her father probably had
sought shelter somewhere before this.
She was compelled to yield, not to my
arguments necessarily, but to her own
judgment. I often think what a jolly
world this would be if our judgment
and our wishes were always agreed.</p>
<p>We chose a somewhat sheltered spot,
which was not difficult to find in a region
of hill on hill, criss-crossed with ravines
and gullies, and gathered heaps of brushwood.
The fire was much more difficult
to light than on the night when I
was the colonel's prisoner, but we set it
to burning at last, and glad we were
when the flames rose high up in the chilly
darkness.</p>
<p>We refreshed ourselves with a little<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[131]</SPAN></span>
supper. Then Crothers insisted that
some of us, and especially Miss Hetherill,
should get a little sleep. Again she
showed herself a wise girl by trying to
obey, despite her wishes. We made her
a bed of blankets between the fire and a
cliff, and, though she said she would not
be able to sleep, in half an hour she
slept. As she lay there with a bit of
her pale, weary face showing above the
blankets, I felt very sorry for her, far
sorrier than I had ever felt for myself,
even when under sentence of death; I
could see the reality of her trouble, and
I had never believed fully in mine.</p>
<p>All the men except Crothers and I
and a third rolled themselves in their
blankets and slept. I sat by the fire,
wondering what the outcome of it all
would be. I noticed that Crothers continued
to look up uneasily at the skies
and the clouded moon, and at last I
asked him what he might have on his
mind.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_132" id="Page_132">[132]</SPAN></span></p>
<p>"Bad weather," he replied, briefly.</p>
<p>"We have that already," I said, pointing
to the cliffs soaking in the wet mist.</p>
<p>"More coming," he said, putting on a
very weatherwise look.</p>
<p>"What do you expect?" I asked.</p>
<p>"Maybe snow, but more likely sleet,
and that, too, before morning," he replied.
"It's early for such things, but
all the signs point that way."</p>
<p>I asked him no more. This was most
unpromising, and gave full warrant for
his grave looks. The mists were lifting,
though very slowly, and were gathering
in clouds above us. The peaks were
ghostly gray, and the moon narrowed to
a half-rim of steel and then disappeared
altogether. The dampness remained in
the air, but the cold was too great for
rain. As Crothers said, either snow or
sleet would come.</p>
<p>I suggested to Crothers that we make
some sort of protection for Miss Hetherill.
We built up little walls of brush<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[133]</SPAN></span>
on three sides of her and covered them
over with the same material. She slept
so heavily from exhaustion, poor girl,
that she never awakened to our noise,
and when we finished our improvised
hut our satisfaction was all the greater
because we had not disturbed her at
all.</p>
<p>Then we built up the fires and waited
for what might come. I dozed awhile,
and awoke to find that the clouds had
thickened. All the peaks were hidden
by them, and there was some wind, just
enough to make a subdued moan.
Crothers said it lacked about two hours
of day. I noticed that he had put the
men at work again, and they had gathered
brushwood sufficient to make the
camp-fire of a regiment.</p>
<p>"The clouds will do what they are
going to do very soon," said Crothers;
and he was right. Presently we heard a
patter upon the dry leaves like the falling
of dust-shot. Little white kernels re<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[134]</SPAN></span>bounded
and fell again. One lodged in
my eye, and I winked until I got it
out. The patter increased; the dust-shot
turned to bird-shot.</p>
<p>"Hail," said Crothers. "We're in for
it."</p>
<p>We woke all the men and made shelter
for ourselves as best we could in the
lee of the cliff. Another blanket spread
over the top of Grace's rude bower was
sufficient protection for her. Soon we
had a fine downpour of hail. It was
like a white bombardment, from which
we were safe within our works. I would
have been content to watch it, had it not
put such obstacles in the way of our
pursuit. The ground whitened quickly
under the fall of the hail, and by and by,
when the wind shifted to the south, the
clouds discharged rain instead of hail.
This was no improvement, and in fact
its probable sequel was what we dreaded
most. The shift of the wind came again,
and then happened what often happens<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_135" id="Page_135">[135]</SPAN></span>
in our fickle climate: the rain which
covered everything turned to ice under
the wind from the north, and in an hour
the earth was clad in a complete suit of
white armor.</p>
<p>The sun was just rising above the last
peaks. Every cloud had gone from the
sky, and the day, hidden before by the
wall of mountains, seemed to come all
at once. Every ray of the sun was
caught up by the sheet of white and
gleaming ice and reflected back. Our
eyes were dazzled by the brilliancy of the
morning, for the ice covered everything.
Every leaf, every twig, was encrusted
with it. It was all very beautiful, and
all very dangerous. Mountain-climbing
on sheets of ice is a slippery business.</p>
<p>As usual, I turned to Crothers for
advice.</p>
<p>"We'll have to creep along as best we
can," he said. "But, while we can't go
fast, neither can the doctor nor the colonel."</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_136" id="Page_136">[136]</SPAN></span></p>
<p>This was the one redeeming point of
the situation. Whatever affected us affected
both the pursued, and we remained
on an equal footing. We awoke Grace,
who was astonished and dismayed at the
sight of the earth cased in ice. Then
we had a little breakfast, and prepared to
resume our dangerous pursuit.</p>
<p>I had heard of Alpine climbing, and,
though I had never done any of it, the
virtues of an alpenstock were not unknown
to me. We selected slender but
stout sticks from the brushwood, sharpened
the ends, and, having hardened
them in the fire, made our start, each
thus provided. It was treacherous work,
and our falls were many, but we were
satisfied to escape with mere bruises, for
one might easily pitch over a precipice
or tumble down a long, steep-hill
slope and become a mere bag of broken
bones.</p>
<p>The sun shone in splendor, but the
rays were without warmth. They were<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[137]</SPAN></span>
white, not yellow, and a white light is
always cold. The brilliant reflection
from the ice-fields forced us to keep our
eyes half closed, if we did not want to
be blinded.</p>
<hr class="chap" />
<p class="p6"><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[138]</SPAN></span></p>
<div style="break-after:column;"></div><br />