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La Belle Christiane

2011 copyright by Lyn Cote

All rights reserved

Chapter Eleven Scene 2

“The town jail is full up and we don’t have no proper military jail, my lord,” the young private said anxiously. “I’m sorry to have to bother you this late in the evenin’, sir.”

“Quite all right, private,” the major answered perfunctorily. “You say the prisoner was brought in this afternoon?”

“Yes, sir, seems he acted suspicious-like at a roadblock east of here.”

The major nodded absently. They were approaching the stables near the major’s quarters. He was wondering how he had gotten this duty tonight. Normally a captain or lieutenant would handle interrogating such an unimportant prisoner. Usually these prisoners were just young boys, full of the rebellion, no threat, just young and cocky. He would scare the hell out of this one and send him home to his mother.

At least, it was something different. How he hated going into winter quarters. It reminded him too much of Canada. The major entered the stable, followed closely by the private, who was carrying a lantern. The horses snorted and pranced a bit at their intrusion.

“There, there, good fellows,” the major said soothingly. He stroked a head here and there as he went down the center aisle between the stalls. They reached a small door at the end of the aisle. The private fumbled and jangled the keys in the dim light and then the old lock grated open. The private unlocked the door and the officer stepped in. A slight form lay still on the scattered hay.

“Here, boy, wake up,” the major said as he gently nudged the form with the toe of his boot. Only a soft moan answered him. “Private, was he hurt, do you know?”

“Sorry, sir, I don’t know. I didn’t see him brought in.”

The major motioned for the lantern as he bent one knee into the straw. Carefully he turned the body toward him and looked at the closed face. “There are bruises on his chin and forehead.”

“Yes, sir.”

“If he has been unconscious since this afternoon, it might be serious.”

“Yes, sir.”

The officer took the limp wrist to check for a heartbeat. “His pulse is very slow. And his skin is cool, very cool.”

“He’s only a prisoner, sir.”

“I know, but he’s just a boy. Look his cheek is as smooth as a girl’s.” Some mother is waiting up for this cub. “Private, go to the rear parlor. Dr. Justin is playing chess there. Bring him here. Tell him it’s urgent.”

The major stood, waiting in the darkness. He hoped the lad was not hurt badly. It would be pleasant to think that someone would be able to go home tonight. The minutes ticked by. He stomped his cold feet in the chill room. Another soft moan answered him. The nearby church bell rang ten times plus three-quarters. A few horses shuffled and neighed. Then the quiet closed in around him again and he longed to be back in his room, sleeping or reading by the fire. At last he heard the stable door opening and the footsteps he had waited for.

“Major, you called me away from a warm fire and a hot chess game for this cold barn.” the doctor’s brusque voice exploded in the confined area.

“Duty calls us all,” the major answered wryly.

“Which means if the conscientious major must freeze, so must I?”

“Something like that.”

“Well, what is it?” The doctor motioned for the lantern to come closer.

“You tell me.” The officer moved the lantern over the silent form atop the straw.

The doctor knelt by his patient. “How long has he been unconscious?”

“Possibly since this afternoon.”

“Don’t you know for certain?”

“No,” the major said, suddenly shivering.

“Wonderful.” The doctor tried the pulse. “Weak. Very weak.”

“He seems extremely cool to the touch.”

“Thinking of taking up medicine?” the doctor asked idly, then more seriously, “It isn’t good. Unconscious for this long in an unheated room. I don’t know whether it’s the initial impact or the cold that is the culprit.”

“What should we do?”

“We need to raise his body temperature. If the cold is the culprit, he should regain consciousness.” The doctor rubbed his own hands together.

“If not?” the major asked.

“If not, then it’s the serious blow to the head. Either way if we leave him out here all night, he might die or, at least, suffer severe frostbite.”

“Then let’s take him inside. What would be the quickest way to raise his body heat?”

” I suggest he be wrapped in blankets and set him by the fire.”

The major frowned, trying to think of where to take the lad, where his kindness would cause the least notice. “Let’s get him up to my room.” Having said this, he stooped and scooped up the boy’s limp form and then slung him on his broad left shoulder. “Private, give the good doctor the lantern. We won’t need you anymore tonight. Return to your quarters.”

The private saluted happily and was gone.

“All I can say is this boy is lucky to have drawn you. I can’t see another officer inviting a colonial lad to their room,” the doctor said, hurrying along.

The major gave no answer. They used the kitchen entrance and went up the back stairs and met no one till they entered the major’s large room on the second landing. The major’s man was waiting by the fire. “Alfred, we need to get this young lad warmed up. He’s been unconscious too long.”

“I see, my lord,” was all the seasoned valet said.

“Well, let’s get this over with,” the doctor urged, “my chess partner may have made his move and be waiting.”

“Not your partner. I saw whom you were playing. It takes him an hour for each move.”

The major deftly pulled off the lad’s fox tail cap, releasing two long braids.  A few hairpins pinged on the hardwood floor.

The valet, standing beside them, gave a muted gasp. Several minutes of silence passed while the men absorbed the shock. The unknown woman gave another small moan and visibly shivered.

“Let’s get her wrapped in those blankets and beside the fire right away,” the doctor directly in a low voice. The two men carefully lifted her and carried her to the fire, the only light in the room. Gently they lowered her beside the warmth.

“Well, we’ll see now if it was the cold that kept her from coming to,” the doctor continued to speak quietly.

As if to answer him, the woman moved slightly and moaned repeatedly. Then her eyelids began to flutter. Her eyes stared at them unfocused, and then they seemed to light on the major’s face. The stranger moaned again, seemingly unable to talk.

“Is she regaining consciousness?” the major asked.

“The warmth is helping. It’s good you acted so quickly. She might have died out there if left till morning. Wonder what she’s doing dressed like a boy?”

The men did not speak again as they chafed her hands and then her feet, bringing the blood back to them. Alfred waited a few steps from them. One hand resting against a solid maple post, the doctor stood at the foot of the bed, draped with thick bed curtains. The major was opposite him, holding the red fox cap, its tail touching the floor. Against the wall of the fire-lit room, their long shadows flickered. For a long while no one spoke.

At last the doctor broke the mesmerized silence. “Well, this is interesting, isn’t it?”

“Quite,” the major replied succinctly.

“Who do you think she is? More importantly why was she masquerading as a young boy?”

“I have no idea.” The major set the hat on back of a nearby upholstered armchair. The firelight illumined the gold thread in the fabric.

“What do you intend to do?”

“Wait until morning and question her,” the major said.

“That should be interesting.” The doctor sounded amused.

“Perhaps.” The major leaned against the carved mantel.

“Well, I’ll be getting back to my chess game. This story should liven it up.”

The major held up one hand. “Don’t.”

“What?”

“This may be very complicated and delicate. No one else should know about it till my interrogation is complete and I’ve reported to Colonel Mensing.”

“Mensing? Intelligence, you mean? A woman spy? That’s unheard of.”

“Not unheard of. Merely unusual.” The major took another step closer to the occupant of the  bed.

“Oh, well, I’ll still get to embellish the story tomorrow afternoon as one of the three eyewitnesses. Good night.”

Alfred escorted the doctor the short way to the door and closed it behind him. For a few moments the major and his man stood, surveying the situation.

“My lord, will you be wanting your night shirt?” Alfred inquired deferentially.

“No,” his lord answered, still distracted.

“Extra blankets?”

“Yes,” he answered a bit gruffly. “Then go to bed. It’s late.”

“Yes, my lord.” Alfred disappeared through a door to his bed in the dressing room, returned with blankets and then left with a quiet good night.

The major stood many more minutes, just staring down at the sleeping woman. The church bell chimed twelve o’clock. Suddenly his fatigue was crushing. He quickly undressed by the fire. He laid his uniform on the bed. Frost glistened on the windows in the firelight. He tossed a few logs from the wood box onto the low flames. Alfred must have been upset not to have attended to it before leaving for the night.

Again he stood at the hearth, gazing at the woman wrapped in quilts. In the darkened room, he couldn’t see her features. But she was young and her hair long and thick. He knew why the doctor had thought the situation–a woman in his room–humorous. He was well aware that the other officers thought him strange because he was not sampling every available strumpet in Philadelphia and its surrounding counties as they were. He had his reasons for behaving differently and they were his own business.

But still he knew if he left his quarters just because this woman was in his bed, he would be a laughingstock. And he was not willing to put himself in that extreme position. He glanced over at the solitary armchair by the hearth, fine for reading, but not for sleeping. However, he couldn’t bring himself to sleep in his bed with a stranger, a woman in his room on the floor by the fire. Disgruntled, he wrapped himself in the extra blankets and settled himself in the chair. Just as he began to relax, he was disturbed by a new thought. Scrambling up and over the icy floor, he locked the door from the inside.

Back by the fire, he put the key in his pocket. There. She would not be leaving without giving him a thorough explanation. He took the chair again. He fell asleep with a scowl on his face.

Well, what do you think about this?

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