The Last Confederate (36 page)

“In all honesty, Thad—I don’t.” He shook his head sadly. “We’ve lost the best of our young men. The bravest and the best. They all went at the first call, and many of them are in graves on the battlefields.” Then he said quietly, “Thad, it’s almost nine o’clock. Only an hour left. Please, my boy! Let me pray for you!”

But Thad shook his head, and Boone was reduced to desperation. He talked steadily for thirty minutes, and suddenly jumped as the door bar was opened with a loud bang. Henry came in, followed by the rest of the guards.

“Is it time?” Thad asked.

“No.” Henry replied. “The lieutenant here says you’ve got to go back to the courtroom.”

“Hurry up, Novak,” the officer snapped impatiently. “I don’t know what’s up, but my orders are to get you there quick.”

Thad rose instantly and followed the lieutenant out of the building and across the yard. A huge crowd was there and quite a few of them yelled, “There he is!”

A large man with a red face blocked the way of the lieutenant. He screamed, “I wish they could kill you twenty times, Yankee!”

The lieutenant shoved him out of the way, saying, “Form on the prisoner!” At the command the guards stepped up to
march on each side of Thad and they proceeded to the steps, then went inside.

Thad saw nobody in the waiting room, but when he went inside the courtroom, he immediately noted that the entire court was assembled, including the prosecutor and Harry Duke. He was directed to Duke’s side, and stared at the face of the lawyer. The sleepy eyes were crackling with energy, and he said, “Hello, Thad. I—”

Then Colonel Andrews arose, irritation on his face. “We have been summoned to re-convene this court-martial by the order of the Vice President of the Confederate States.” He had been practically snatched out of his home an hour earlier by a pair of lieutenants with a note from Alex Stevens, ordering him to re-convene the court. The others, he had discovered, had been pulled in with no more ceremony. “I presume that you know something about this, Captain Duke?” Colonel Andrews remarked with heavy sarcasm.

“I am indeed guilty, sir,” Duke replied. “One more ‘antic’ for you to go through, I’m afraid.”

“Well, what is it?”

“I request that the court hear the testimony of one more witness.”

“Why was he not heard earlier?” Andrews demanded.

“He was on the field of battle, Colonel—at Manassas, to be more specific. It was no small accomplishment to get him here, I can assure you. At least two major generals had to sign his orders.”

“Well, bring him in,” Andrews growled.

“Call Captain Lowell Winslow,” Duke said, and stood there with a small smile on his face. He heard a gasp from Thad and whispered, “Here’s your miracle, Thad. A minor one, perhaps, in this large war—but it makes this sinner believe there’s a God looking out for you!”

The door opened, and as the guard came back, an audible gasp went up from several members of the court. For the
witness wore the dress uniform of a captain in the Army of the United States.

“By heaven! A Yankee!” Major Jason Stillwell exclaimed in a loud whisper.

“Yes, sir, I am a Yankee,” the tall captain confirmed. “And proud of it!”

Colonel Andrews stared at him, then said abruptly, “Swear Captain Winslow in.” He carefully searched the face of the officer for a moment before saying, “Your witness, Captain Duke.”

“Thank you, Colonel.” Never had Harry Duke enjoyed a moment in court more.
I’ve got all the aces,
he thought as he walked forward to stand before Winslow.
Poor old Aaron—looks like he’s swallowed a dozen lemons!

“Captain Winslow, will you relate to the court the incident that took place on Malvern Hill in which you took a Confederate soldier prisoner?”

Lowell Winslow was enjoying himself immensely. He looked across the courtroom at Novak, taking in the raven-black hair, the strong face, tapering from a broad forehead to a firm jaw. The steady black eyes, deep and wide set.

The events of the past few days flashed through his mind. He had relished his ride with Patience and Dooley. They had been stopped by Union soldiers at the sight of Dooley’s rebel garb, but had been speechless when presented a paper signed by
two
major generals—Sheridan and Kearny. But that had been
nothing
compared with the events that occurred when they crossed the line into Confederate territory. Winslow’s blue uniform had drawn almost half the patrols in the country. It had been almost comic to see their tough faces and harsh manner dissolve when they read the pass—and saw the name of Jefferson Davis at the bottom!

And he had been intrigued by the pair of rebels. He had never spoken to a Confederate before, except a few sullen prisoners, and Dooley Young had been a source of endless fascination to him. The little rider was tough as a boot, could
ride like a centaur, and shoot like Daniel Boone! He could live on a cup of boiled grits for a day, and if there was any fear in the man, it never showed itself. Winslow had wondered how the Union troops could be beaten again and again by beggars with poor arms; well, now he
knew!

And the girl was a wonder! She was more girl than woman, perhaps; but the entire journey, which was hard and demanding—and the second half for her!—never seemed to bother her. At nights she would sit around the fire talking with the two men. He would never forget her—he was sure of that! The sight of her large eyes regarding him across the campfire as she told him of her family and her life left a strong mark on him. He had never thought much of the citizens of the South as individuals. His vague notion of them was formed by lurid novels such as
Uncle Tom’s Cabin
and scurrilous articles in the eastern newspapers. By the time they made their last camp, he had heard of Belle and her two suitors; Mark, a lieutenant; Tom, a corporal in the infantry; and Dan, who was dying to get into it. Most of all, he thought he knew something about Thad Novak—for the girl was obviously in love with him.

Yes,
he thought as he looked at Thad,
he looks as if he might be worth her trouble!

Then Winslow began his story, and as he related the events, he saw that every officer at the table seemed relieved. Two of them were smiling broadly, and the others looked highly satisfied.

Winslow concluded by saying, “And when we got back from the patrol, I turned the prisoner over to the officer in charge of all our prisoners. Because of his connection with Sky Winslow, I intended to see him after the battle—but I was slightly wounded in the battle, and he was gone before I had the opportunity. I did write to my father and ask him to visit Novak, but he, too, was ill at that time and unable to do so.”

He stopped and looked at the court with a smile. “I hope my testimony has been of some use.”

“I think you may be assured it has,” Colonel Andrews responded instantly. Then he gave a hard look at Abraham, asking in a challenging tone, “Do you wish to question this witness, sir?”

Aaron Abraham smiled easily and replied, “I have no questions.”

Colonel Andrews said, “I will ask the members of this court to step outside.” They filed out, and Thad watched Harry Duke draw small animals on a sheet of paper for five minutes. Then the door opened, and the officers took their places. “We have reached a unanimous decision,” Andrews announced. “We have—”

“Colonel,” Lowell Winslow interrupted. “May I make one request?”

“Why, I suppose so,” Colonel Andrews replied. Then he smiled broadly, adding, “Any man that will wear that uniform on the streets of Richmond deserves some consideration.”

“Thank you, sir.” Winslow smiled. “I look forward to the day when it will be a common sight—but as to my request, there is one person who deserves to be in this courtroom to hear your decision.”

“And that is?”

“The most dedicated rebel I’ve met in this whole war, Colonel—Miss Patience Winslow.” He saw the eyes of Novak lift, and he told them how he had been practically kidnapped from the army of General Sheridan. “Anyone who can do that has my total admiration. I know she’s outside—and it would mean a great deal to her if she could hear your verdict.”

“Well, certainly!” Andrews responded at once. “Soldier, bring Miss Winslow into the courtroom.”

Every eye was on the door, and when Patience stepped inside, a murmur of admiration went up from at least some of the officers at the table. She was still dressed in her riding clothes, and her face was a little wan; but when she saw Thad, her eyes sparkled like diamonds, and her lips framed his name—
Thad!

“Miss Winslow, we are about to give our decision on this man—and since you have played a major part in it, we think it well that you should hear it.” There was just a trace of dramatics in Andrews, and he drew the moment out. Finally he said, “We are in total harmony in our decision—we find the defendant, Thaddeus Novak—not guilty!”

No military strictness of the court-martial could keep Patience Winslow from dashing across the room and throwing her arms around Thad’s neck. The court smiled and the avowed agnostic lawyer, Harrison Duke, tossed his papers into the air and hollered “Glory to God” with all the fervor of a Methodist evangelist. The Jewish lawyer, Aaron Abraham, joined Duke with equal enthusiasm, crying loudly, “Amen!” One by one the members of the court came down and shook hands with Private Thad Novak—at least
two
of them giving Patience a tender kiss on the cheek!

Later as the two lawyers celebrated the decision, Abraham said, “You are not a bad lawyer—for a
goyim.
But I feel sorry for you, so I will offer you a job in my law firm after the war!”

Duke stared at the fat man and retorted, “I wouldn’t be a member of any law firm that would have
me
on its staff! However,” he conceded, “I will permit you to join
my
firm. You can handle the unimportant cases while I do the big stuff.”

Their sentiments became maudlin after a time, and both wept openly for the young couple.

Thad and Pet had left the building as soon as Thad was released. A covered buggy had been brought to the back door, and the two jumped in and drove rapidly down the side street, coming soon to the outskirts of Richmond, and then to the open country.

Dark clouds were rolling up from the north, and a brisk wind began tossing them around. Thad stared at the sky. “Looks like a bad storm coming.”

“Yes.”

Both were stunned by the recent events and found it difficult to talk. The silence grew heavy as they sped down the road.
Soon they came to Cedar Creek, where Thad stopped the horses under the overhanging branches near the small bridge.

He sat quietly for a moment, then turned and murmured, “There’s nobody like you, Pet.” He took her hand and studied it. Holding it tightly in his hand, he looked up and smiled. “I heard once about a country where if you saved somebody’s life, that person belonged to you forever. So I guess you own at least one lowly private.”

“Oh . . . I don’t want to . . . own you,” she whispered. She lifted her eyes to his, her lips trembling and tears welling up again. She brushed them away, saying, “I can’t seem to stop crying, Thad!”

He looked down at her—so close, so sweet; then he bent his head and kissed her. It was a man’s kiss, not a boy’s, and all the tension and weight that he had labored under suddenly found expression as he pulled her to his chest roughly. She was shocked at the intensity of her own response, for her arms were around his neck, pulling him closer—and when he finally released her, she was throbbing from head to foot.

Her eyes sparkled and a smile curved her full lips. “I saw Mama this morning. She told me what you said to tell me—last night when she talked to you.”

Thad’s face flushed. “I was sure I wasn’t going to make it when I said all that.”

“I want to hear you say it again—to
me,
not to Mama and Papa.”

Thad swallowed hard—wanting her, yet not daring. “Pet—I’m nobody. You come from a good family and—”

“We’re talking about what you said about me last night,” Pet reminded him. She lifted her hand and grabbed his thick black hair, forcing his head around. Her gray eyes were soft, but there was a determined set to her mouth. “We’re going to sit here until you tell me, Thad Novak!”

A smile crept over his face and he reached up and stroked her cheek tenderly, his eyes caressing her. “I told your folks—that
I love you—and now I tell it to you, Pet. I’ve always loved you—and I guess I always will!”

Nodding slowly, she took a deep breath, and then pulled his head down for another kiss. When she drew back, her dimples appeared as she grinned playfully, “If you hadn’t said that, Thad Novak—I’d have gone back to the court and told them to shoot you, after all!”

They burst out laughing for pure joy, and all the way to Belle Maison they talked and giggled—exactly like a couple in love!

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

BELLE OF THE BALL

Belle Winslow’s answer to most problems was very simple—have a dress ball. Therefore, after Thad’s miraculous escape, everyone expected that Belle would arrange for a celebration. She did so by simply putting her arms around her father’s neck, looking up with pleading eyes, and whispering, “Please, Papa! Shelby will be taking the Richmond Blades to whip the Yankees any day—and Vance and I haven’t had much time together. Please!”

Sky had caved in, lamenting to Rebekah, “I wish I could handle politicians as well as that girl handles me!” Then he grinned and added, “But she’s right about it. Lee is rushing every man he can get to meet Pope. Nothing left in Richmond but a skeleton crew. Anyway, it will be a nice celebration for Thad.”

Sky’s motive was good, but at the ball, which took place at Belle Maison on the evening of August 22, Thad had never felt more uncomfortable in his whole life. The ball was in full swing when he arrived, and after greeting Rebekah and Sky, he sought out the most obscure place he could find—an offset space created by the massive fireplace and a large china cabinet. Thad picked up a cup of punch and squeezed himself back against the wall, but he did not remain hidden for long. Pet spotted the recluse and came to stand before him.