A GREY SLEEVE
I
"It looks as if it might rain this afternoon," remarked the lieutenant
of artillery.
"So it does," the infantry captain assented. He glanced casually at the
sky. When his eyes had lowered to the green-shadowed landscape before
him, he said fretfully: "I wish those fellows out yonder would quit
pelting at us. They've been at it since noon."
At the edge of a grove of maples, across wide fields, there
occasionally appeared little puffs of smoke of a dull hue in this gloom
of sky which expressed an impending rain. The long wave of blue and
steel in the field moved uneasily at the eternal barking of the far-away
sharpshooters, and the men, leaning upon their rifles, stared at the
grove of maples. Once a private turned to borrow some tobacco from a
comrade in the rear rank, but, with his hand still stretched out, he
continued to twist his head and glance at the distant trees. He was
afraid the enemy would shoot him at a time when he was not looking.
Suddenly the artillery officer said: "See what's coming!"
Along the rear of the brigade of infantry a column of cavalry was
sweeping at a hard gallop. A lieutenant, riding some yards to the right
of the column, bawled furiously at the four troopers just at the rear of
the colours. They had lost distance and made a little gap, but at the
shouts of the lieutenant they urged their horses forward. The bugler,
careering along behind the captain of the troop, fought and tugged like
a wrestler to keep his frantic animal from bolting far ahead of the
column.
On the springy turf the innumerable hoofs thundered in a swift storm of
sound. In the brown faces of the troopers their eyes were set like bits
of flashing steel.
The long line of the infantry regiments standing at ease underwent a
sudden movement at the rush of the passing squadron. The foot soldiers
turned their heads to gaze at the torrent of horses and men.
The yellow folds of the flag fluttered back in silken, shuddering
waves, as if it were a reluctant thing. Occasionally a giant spring of a
charger would rear the firm and sturdy figure of a soldier suddenly head
and shoulders above his comrades. Over the noise of the scudding hoofs
could be heard the creaking of leather trappings, the jingle and clank
of steel, and the tense, low-toned commands or appeals of the men to
their horses; and the horses were mad with the headlong sweep of this
movement. Powerful under jaws bent back and straightened, so that the
bits were clamped as rigidly as vices upon the teeth, and glistening
necks arched in desperate resistance to the hands at the bridles.
Swinging their heads in rage at the granite laws of their lives, which
compelled even their angers and their ardours to chosen directions and
chosen faces, their flight was as a flight of harnessed demons.
The captain's bay kept its pace at the head of the squadron with the
lithe bounds of a thoroughbred, and this horse was proud as a chief at
the roaring trample of his fellows behind him. The captain's glance was
calmly upon the grove of maples whence the sharpshooters of the enemy
had been picking at the blue line. He seemed to be reflecting. He
stolidly rose and fell with the plunges of his horse in all the
indifference of a deacon's figure seated plumply in church. And it
occurred to many of the watching infantry to wonder why this officer
could remain imperturbable and reflective when his squadron was
thundering and swarming behind him like the rushing of a flood.
The column swung in a sabre-curve toward a break in a fence, and dashed
into a roadway. Once a little plank bridge was encountered, and the
sound of the hoofs upon it was like the long roll of many drums. An old
captain in the infantry turned to his first lieutenant and made a
remark, which was a compound of bitter disparagement of cavalry in
general and soldierly admiration of this particular troop.
Suddenly the bugle sounded, and the column halted with a jolting
upheaval amid sharp, brief cries. A moment later the men had tumbled
from their horses, and, carbines in hand, were running in a swarm toward
the grove of maples. In the road one of every four of the troopers was
standing with braced legs, and pulling and hauling at the bridles of
four frenzied horses.
The captain was running awkwardly in his boots. He held his sabre low,
so that the point often threatened to catch in the turf. His yellow hair
ruffled out from under his faded cap. "Go in hard now!" he roared, in a
voice of hoarse fury. His face was violently red.
The troopers threw themselves upon the grove like wolves upon a great
animal. Along the whole front of woods there was the dry crackling of
musketry, with bitter, swift flashes and smoke that writhed like stung
phantoms. The troopers yelled shrilly and spanged bullets low into the
foliage.
For a moment, when near the woods, the line almost halted. The men
struggled and fought for a time like swimmers encountering a powerful
current. Then with a supreme effort they went on again. They dashed
madly at the grove, whose foliage from the high light of the field was
as inscrutable as a wall.
Then suddenly each detail of the calm trees became apparent, and with a
few more frantic leaps the men were in the cool gloom of the woods.
There was a heavy odour as from burned paper. Wisps of grey smoke wound
upward. The men halted and, grimy, perspiring, and puffing, they
searched the recesses of the woods with eager, fierce glances. Figures
could be seen flitting afar off. A dozen carbines rattled at them in an
angry volley.
During this pause the captain strode along the line, his face lit with
a broad smile of contentment. "When he sends this crowd to do anything,
I guess he'll find we do it pretty sharp," he said to the grinning
lieutenant.
"Say, they didn't stand that rush a minute, did they?" said the
subaltern. Both officers were profoundly dusty in their uniforms, and
their faces were soiled like those of two urchins.
Out in the grass behind them were three tumbled and silent forms.
Presently the line moved forward again. The men went from tree to tree
like hunters stalking game. Some at the left of the line fired
occasionally, and those at the right gazed curiously in that direction.
The men still breathed heavily from their scramble across the field.
Of a sudden a trooper halted and said: "Hello! there's a house!" Every
one paused. The men turned to look at their leader.
The captain stretched his neck and swung his head from side to side.
"By George, it is a house!" he said.
Through the wealth of leaves there vaguely loomed the form of a large
white house. These troopers, brown-faced from many days of campaigning,
each feature of them telling of their placid confidence and courage,
were stopped abruptly by the appearance of this house. There was some
subtle suggestion--some tale of an unknown thing--which watched them
from they knew not what part of it.
A rail fence girded a wide lawn of tangled grass. Seven pines stood
along a drive-way which led from two distant posts of a vanished gate.
The blue-clothed troopers moved forward until they stood at the fence
peering over it.
The captain put one hand on the top rail and seemed to be about to
climb the fence, when suddenly he hesitated, and said in a low voice:
"Watson, what do you think of it?"
The lieutenant stared at the house. "Derned if I know!" he replied.
The captain pondered. It happened that the whole company had turned a
gaze of profound awe and doubt upon this edifice which confronted them.
The men were very silent.
At last the captain swore and said: "We are certainly a pack of fools.
Derned old deserted house halting a company of Union cavalry, and making
us gape like babies!"
"Yes, but there's something--something----" insisted the subaltern in a
half stammer.
"Well, if there's 'something--something' in there, I'll get it out,"
said the captain. "Send Sharpe clean around to the other side with about
twelve men, so we will sure bag your 'something--something,' and I'll
take a few of the boys and find out what's in the d----d old thing!"
He chose the nearest eight men for his "storming party," as the
lieutenant called it. After he had waited some minutes for the others to
get into position, he said "Come ahead" to his eight men, and climbed
the fence.
The brighter light of the tangled lawn made him suddenly feel
tremendously apparent, and he wondered if there could be some mystic
thing in the house which was regarding this approach. His men trudged
silently at his back. They stared at the windows and lost themselves in
deep speculations as to the probability of there being, perhaps, eyes
behind the blinds--malignant eyes, piercing eyes.
Suddenly a corporal in the party gave vent to a startled exclamation,
and half threw his carbine into position. The captain turned quickly,
and the corporal said: "I saw an arm move the blinds--an arm with a grey
sleeve!"
"Don't be a fool, Jones, now," said the captain sharply.
"I swear t'--" began the corporal, but the captain silenced him.
When they arrived at the front of the house, the troopers paused, while
the captain went softly up the front steps. He stood before the large
front door and studied it. Some crickets chirped in the long grass, and
the nearest pine could be heard in its endless sighs. One of the
privates moved uneasily, and his foot crunched the gravel. Suddenly the
captain swore angrily and kicked the door with a loud crash. It flew open.
