Appeal to Honor

"What’s going on?" he shouted above the pounding rain, jerking his horse to a halt.

"Dammit Colonel," Sergeant Ewald cried, grabbing the bridle of Mister Naps, "all hell’s te pay!"

"What are you talking about?" Nathan demanded, looking frantically about.

"‘Tis the MacKenzie carriage..."

"Colonel," Lieutenant Higgins shouted, sloshing hurriedly toward them through the mud. "I got here too late te warn her not te cross..."

"Damn it man!" Nathan cried, leaping from his horse, "Tell me she is..."

"Tom got the Mistress out, but the girl’s still in the coach. The water’s up too high and...hell, Colonel, ain’t nobody knows how te swim..."

Nathan struck off at a run in the direction of the creek. The rain was falling in a torrent so heavy he could hardly distinguish the black calash marred in the mud about midway across the rain-flooded creek. The horse had apparently broken out of its traces, and the raging muddy creek water splashing forcefully against the vehicle twisted it at a rakish angle. As Nathan stared, the calash tipped farther on its side, both nearside wheels coming nearly out of the water. Even in the gloom of twilight and pouring rain he could see the terror in Margaret’s large rounded eyes.

"Someone do something!" Mistress MacKenzie screamed hysterically, falling to her knees in the mud.

"Colonel, here’s a line!" one of his men shouted, thrusting a rope into his hands.

"Margaret, can you hear me?" Nathan yelled. She stared, wide-eyed. "Catch the rope!" he shouted. She gave a tentative nod of her head. "Tie the end to the carriage!" he ordered, and again she nodded.

It took three tries before she managed to grasp the line. Nathan watched her frantic efforts to secure the line and could only hope the knot was strong. He tugged on the rope, breathing a sigh of relief for it seemed securely fastened. Someone attached the line to a tree and Nathan began to wade out into the water, soon finding himself chest deep. The swift current swirled powerfully about him nearly sweeping his feet from under him, straining his grip on the rope. Muddy water splashed over his shoulders and head and branches carried by the current crashed into him bruising arms and shoulders. Finally his hand grasped one of the carriage wheels and shortly he was able to work his way to the door. Margaret, clung fiercely to the windowsill, the water inside the carriage came above her waist.

"Climb on my shoulders!" Nathan yelled. She only stared at him. "Come on!" he commanded, forcefully. "Listen to me! Get on my shoulders!"

This time she obeyed, reaching one hand cautiously toward him. Once her hand came in contact with his shoulder, she immediately, almost panicky, grabbed him with both hands, arms encircling his neck. Her sudden weight sent his head under water, and he pushed up spitting muddy water. In that instant, the carriage lurched and Nathan heard the sound of rending wood. The rope sprang taut, than slid through his hand shearing his palm. The carriage flipped onto its side and the force of the rushing water broke it in two sending the splintered halves twisting and tumbling with the current. Nathan clung frantically to the rope with both hands as muddy water washed over his shoulders and head. He lost his footing and was swept down stream. Margaret’s arms about his neck squeezed so tightly he could not breathe. For several panic-filled minutes he struggled to keep his hold on the rope and his head above water. For the first time in his life he had visions of himself dying and the thought came to him that Margaret’s life was in his hands. He didn’t want it to end this way.