William Keener - Pearl and the Nigger

Andy reached out his hand to her, and Molly gently grasped it in her hand and sat down on the side of the bed once again as Andy was saying, “Was you that saved me, Molly. You saved me. I heard the pistol shot as if it was a dream—afar off. Why—why you little rebel, it was you that saved me from my own comrades.”

“But you saved me first,” she said. “But I didn’t know that until I got Toney off me and I got off the bed and found you there lying on the floor.”

“Yes, I remember. It was Toney who shot me, and I shot him. I remember he fell on top of you on the bed.”

Andy again coughed lightly, and hot pain once again ran through his breast, and a slight hemorrhage warned him of the seriousness of his wound.

Molly administered medical techniques to him with all the skill of a well-trained nurse.

“You’ve had training as a nurse?” he questioned.

“Yes, last summer in Richmond while visiting my aunt. You are not to talk,” she warned him. “If you want to hear the balance of the story, shut up, or I leave you by yourself.”

Even though it was exceedingly painful, Andy smiled and said, “Impossible, Molly, with you it’s—”

“Shut up—stop it!” she commanded, slamming her foot down onto the floor with a thud. “I’m in command here.”

He smiled again. “Molly, you saved me. Your friendship is” was all Andy got to say.

“Hush,” she commanded. “Quiet now, and I will see if Nanny has your breakfast ready.” She turned and left the room.

A minute and she was back. “What time is it?” he asked.

“Almost noon,” she replied. “I asked Nanny to prepare you dinner. But let’s get one thing straight. I told you I am in command here inside.”

He interrupted, “What do you mean in command inside?”

Nanny entered the room, bearing a tray, and the appetizing aroma of chicken soup and steaming coffee filled the room.

“You got up so late, you missed breakfast,” Molly said, trying to be cheerful.

Andy smiled in response to her attempt to be cheerful, but he was anxious to hear more of the details and what had come as an aftermath of the fight. Again, in spite of Molly’s previous warnings, he asked, “How did they learn about it at camp? What do you mean you are in command inside?”

He reached for her hand. She tenderly stopped it and placed it under the cover. She tiptoed out of the room and peeped down the hallway toward the front of the house. In returning to his bedside, she said, “I told you I am in command inside. Your dragoon friends have guards on the outside. We’re both prisoners. You cannot leave this house. You could not leave even if you were well enough. They’re going to court-martial both of us when you are able to be taken to your headquarters. Anyway, that is some time off. Lots of things can happen before that.”

He heard her leave the room and out to the back porch.

Andy lay there talking to himself. “Prisoners awaiting court-martial! How could that be? How can they court-martial Molly? I guess I would have faced court-martial today. It’s worse now. Wonder what the reports say. I’ll send for Captain Bloome. He stands for justice. He will listen to the truth.”

The door opened, and Molly came into the room, saying, “Nanny forgot the bread for the soup.”

With her assistance, he was raised to a half-sitting position in the bed. And Molly placed the pillows behind his back and began feeding him the well-prepared soup.

“Well, Sergeant, it looks like the only way I can shut you up is to keep poking this spoonful of soup in your mouth,” she said as she kept feeding him.

“Molly, how did they learn about the fight at camp?” he asked.

“Sergeant, when you decide to quit talking, calm down, and listen, maybe I will tell you what I know,” she replied, with sternness in her voice.

Andy said no more. He finished his soup and lay back in the bed as Molly began to speak. “Now, if you’ll not talk anymore, I’ll tell you about it or all I know.

“When I shot Millbaugh, Nanny and Rubin came rushing into the room. Nanny had an ax in her hands and Rubin with a scythe in his. Nanny, seeing the four of you lying there, cried out, ‘Lawdy, Ms. Molly, what is you done?’ After calming Nanny down, I sent Rubin up to the old inn to bring help. They had heard the shots, or some of the pickets did, and when Rubin arrived at the camp, the dragoons were here in less than half an hour. By the time they were here, Nanny and I carried you here and put you in this bed.

“They wanted to take you back to camp, but I convinced them that I could nurse you back to health here. Lieutenant Ambroy bandaged up your wound and finally consented to let you stay.

“I told him the whole story, but I do not feel that he believed me. He said he hoped you recovered because you had a lot of things to explain. They left, taking the others back to camp with them.

“Yesterday morning, Dr. Brown, or Surgeon Brown, came down and redressed your wound and left those bottles of medicine and instructions to keep you quiet and not let you talk. With Surgeon Brown came four guards. Two were placed out back. Two are stationed in front. One of the guards told me this morning that LaCrosse is still living and will recover. From what the guard says, he is telling a story different from what happened. A made-up bunch of lies from start to finish. Trying to save his own hide.”

“What’s—what’s he telling,” he mumbled.

“Don’t worry about that now. Your concern is to get well. We are prisoners as a result of his story. When you are well, we’ll have a reckoning. A way will be provided.”

There was a knock at the door. Dr. Brown had arrived to administer to Andy’s wound.

It was near on two weeks before Andy was able to talk and sit up some in bed. Surgeon Brown, finding Andy in a good frame of mind and strength returned, questioned him and Molly about the tragic affair that happened at the cabin.

Molly and the young dragoon told their story. They told every detail. They told it convincingly and well, and the surgeon listened intently.

When they had finished, Dr. Brown replied, “A good story. Sounds well, and it might be true.” He shook his head. “But you’ll have trouble convincing anyone at camp that it is true.”

“So what do you mean?” asked Andy.

“Treason,” replied the surgeon.

“Treason!” exclaimed Andy.

“Yes, I said treason! Now, let me tell the both of you. The evidence is against you—Molly as an enemy spy and you for collaborating with the enemy. Both of you are not only charged with treason, but with murder. You and this girl are charged with murdering two of your comrades in cold blood and an attempt on the life of another.”

“I don’t understand, Dr. Brown,” Andy started to speak.

“Shut up! Wait a minute now! Give me a little time to explain!” Andy was interrupted by a harsh command from Surgeon Brown. “This girl is a brazen little rebel. She carries information to General Lee. Everyone at camp knows it, has known it for some time, and you knew it yourself. Forgive me, ma’am,” he said as he turned toward Molly. “She’s charming, a regular little beauty, a heart smasher, and you were weak enough to be enticed by her. I grant you she is all of these and more, but these are times of war, and in war you enlisted taking an oath under the flag to uphold your country first and above everything else. As a soldier, you should have kept in a soldier’s place.”

“I don’t understand what you’re talking about,” impatiently Andy broke in. “Haven’t I done this? Haven’t I?”

“Wait a minute. Will you wait a minute?” thundered the doctor.

“Hell no! I will not wait. I’m not going to be charged with disloyalty and tried for treason when I’ve done nothing but my simple duty. I am not a traitor. I have not been untrue to the Union, the flag, or the dragoons. All I have done is defend a helpless girl, be she friend or foe, against three unrestrained, drunken brutes with animal passions.”