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diff --git a/old/14362-8.txt b/old/14362-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..0000e9e --- /dev/null +++ b/old/14362-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11074 @@ +The Project Gutenberg eBook, The Way of a Man, by Emerson Hough + + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + + + + +Title: The Way of a Man + +Author: Emerson Hough + +Release Date: December 15, 2004 [eBook #14362] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + + +***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE WAY OF A MAN*** + + +E-text prepared by Suzanne Lybarger, Josephine Paolucci, Joshua +Hutchinson, and the Project Gutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading Team + + + +Note: Project Gutenberg also has an HTML version of this + file which includes the original illustrations. + See 14362-h.htm or 14362-h.zip: + (https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/1/4/3/6/14362/14362-h/14362-h.htm) + or + (https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/1/4/3/6/14362/14362-h.zip) + + + + + +THE WAY OF A MAN + +by + +EMERSON HOUGH + +Author of _The Covered Wagon_, etc. + +Illustrated with Scenes from the Photoplay, _The Way of A Man_, +A Pathé Picture + +Grosset & Dunlap +Publishers New York + +1907 + + + + + + + +[Illustration: GRACE SHOWS A LACK OF SYMPATHY.] + + + +CONTENTS + +CHAPTER + + I THE KISSING OF MISS GRACE SHERATON + II THE MEETING OF GORDON ORME + III THE ART OF THE ORIENT + IV WARS AND RUMORS OF WAR + V THE MADNESS OF MUCH KISSING + VI A SAD LOVER + VII WHAT COMETH IN THE NIGHT + VIII BEGINNING ADVENTURES IN NEW LANDS + IX THE GIRL WITH THE HEART + X THE SUPREME COURT + XI THE MORNING AFTER + XII THE WRECK ON THE RIVER + XIII THE FACE IN THE FIRELIGHT + XIV AU LARGE + XV HER INFINITE VARIETY + XVI BUFFALO + XVII SIOUX! + XVIII THE TEST + XIX THE QUALITY OF MERCY + XX GORDON ORME, MAGICIAN + XXI TWO IN THE DESERT + XXII MANDY MCGOVERN ON MARRIAGE + XXIII ISSUE JOINED + XXIV FORSAKING ALL OTHERS + XXV CLEAVING ONLY UNTO HER + XXVI IN SICKNESS AND IN HEALTH + XXVII WITH ALL MY WORLDLY GOODS I THEE ENDOW + XXVIII TILL DEATH DO PART + XXIX THE GARDEN + XXX THEY TWAIN + XXXI THE BETROTHAL + XXXII THE COVENANT + XXXIII THE FLAMING SWORD + XXXIV THE LOSS OF PARADISE + XXXV THE YOKE + XXXVI THE GOAD + XXXVII THE FURROW +XXXVIII HEARTS HYPOTHECATED + XXXIX THE UNCOVERING OF GORDON ORME + XL A CONFUSION IN COVENANTS + XLI ELLEN OR GRACE + XLII FACE TO FACE + XLIII THE RECKONING + XLIV THIS INDENTURE WITNESSETH + XLV ELLEN + + + + + +CHAPTER I + +THE KISSING OF MISS GRACE SHERATON + + +I admit I kissed her. + +Perhaps I should not have done so. Perhaps I would not do so again. Had +I known what was to come I could not have done so. Nevertheless I did. + +After all, it was not strange. All things about us conspired to be +accessory and incendiary. The air of the Virginia morning was so soft +and warm, the honeysuckles along the wall were so languid sweet, the +bees and the hollyhocks up to the walk so fat and lazy, the smell of the +orchard was so rich, the south wind from the fields was so wanton! +Moreover, I was only twenty-six. As it chances, I was this sort of a +man: thick in the arm and neck, deep through, just short of six feet +tall, and wide as a door, my mother said; strong as one man out of a +thousand, my father said. And then--the girl was there. + +So this was how it happened that I threw the reins of Satan, my black +horse, over the hooked iron of the gate at Dixiana Farm and strode up to +the side of the stone pillar where Grace Sheraton stood, shading her +eyes with her hand, watching me approach through the deep trough road +that flattened there, near the Sheraton lane. So I laughed and strode +up--and kept my promise. I had promised myself that I would kiss her the +first time that seemed feasible. I had even promised her--when she came +home from Philadelphia so lofty and superior for her stopping a brace of +years with Miss Carey at her Allendale Academy for Young Ladies--that if +she mitigated not something of her haughtiness, I would kiss her fair, +as if she were but a girl of the country. Of these latter I may guiltily +confess, though with no names, I had known many who rebelled little more +than formally. + +She stood in the shade of the stone pillar, where the ivy made a deep +green, and held back her light blue skirt daintily, in her high-bred +way; for never was a girl Sheraton who was not high-bred or other than +fair to look upon in the Sheraton way--slender, rather tall, long +cheeked, with very much dark hair and a deep color under the skin, and +something of long curves withal. They were ladies, every one, these +Sheraton girls; and as Miss Grace presently advised me, no milkmaids +wandering and waiting in lanes for lovers. + +When I sprang down from Satan Miss Grace was but a pace or so away. I +put out a hand on either side of her as she stood in the shade, and so +prisoned her against the pillar. She flushed at this, and caught at my +arm with both hands, which made me smile, for few men in that country +could have put away my arms from the stone until I liked. Then I bent +and kissed her fair, and took what revenge was due our girls for her +Philadelphia manners. + +When she boxed my ears I kissed her once more. Had she not at that +smiled at me a little, I should have been a boor, I admit. As she +did--and as I in my innocence supposed all girls did--I presume I may be +called but a man as men go. Miss Grace grew very rosy for a Sheraton, +but her eyes were bright. So I threw my hat on the grass by the side of +the gate and bowed her to be seated. We sat and looked up the lane which +wound on to the big Sheraton house, and up the red road which led from +their farm over toward our lands, the John Cowles farm, which had been +three generations in our family as against four on the part of the +Sheratons' holdings; a fact which I think always ranked us in the +Sheraton soul a trifle lower than themselves. + +We were neighbors, Miss Grace and I, and as I lazily looked out over the +red road unoccupied at the time by even the wobbling wheel of some +negro's cart, I said to her some word of our being neighbors, and of its +being no sin for neighbors to exchange the courtesy of a greeting when +they met upon such a morning. This seemed not to please her; indeed I +opine that the best way of a man with a maid is to make no manner of +speech whatever before or after any such incident as this. + +"I was just wandering down the lane," she said, "to see if Jerry had +found my horse, Fanny." + +"Old Jerry's a mile back up the road," said I, "fast asleep under the +hedge." + +"The black rascal!" + +"He is my friend," said I, smiling. + +"You do indeed take me for some common person," said she; "as though I +had been looking for--" + +"No, I take you only for the sweetest Sheraton that ever came to meet a +Cowles from the farm yonder." Which was coming rather close home, for +our families, though neighbors, had once had trouble over some such +meeting as this two generations back; though of that I do not now speak. + +"Cannot a girl walk down her own carriage road of a morning, after +hollyhocks for the windows, without--" + +"She cannot!" I answered. I would have put out an arm for further +mistreatment, but all at once I pulled up. What was I coming to, I, John +Cowles, this morning when the bees droned fat and the flowers made +fragrant all the air? I was no boy, but a man grown; and ruthless as I +was, I had all the breeding the land could give me, full Virginia +training as to what a gentleman should be. And a gentleman, unless he +may travel all a road, does not set foot too far into it when he sees +that he is taken at what seems his wish. So now I said how glad I was +that she had come back from school, though a fine lady now, and no doubt +forgetful of her friends, of myself, who once caught young rabbits and +birds for her, and made pens for the little pink pigs at the orchard +edge, and all of that. But she had no mind, it seemed to me, to talk of +these old days; and though now some sort of wall seemed to me to arise +between us as we sat there on the bank blowing at dandelions and pulling +loose grass blades, and humming a bit of tune now and then as young +persons will, still, thickheaded as I was, it was in some way made +apparent to me that I was quite as willing the wall should be there as +she herself was willing. + +My mother had mentioned Miss Grace Sheraton to me before. My father had +never opposed my riding over now and then to the Sheraton gates. There +were no better families in our county than these two. There was no +reason why I should feel troubled. Yet as I looked out into the haze of +the hilltops where the red road appeared to leap off sheer to meet the +distant rim of the Blue Ridge, I seemed to hear some whispered warning. +I was young, and wild as any deer in those hills beyond. Had it been +any enterprise scorning settled ways; had it been merely a breaking of +orders and a following of my own will, I suppose I might have gone on. +But there are ever two things which govern an adventure for one of my +sex. He may be a man; but he must also be a gentleman. I suppose books +might be written about the war between those two things. He may be a +gentleman sometimes and have credit for being a soft-headed fool, with +no daring to approach the very woman who has contempt for him; whereas +she may not know his reasons for restraint. So much for civilization, +which at times I hated because it brought such problems. Yet these +problems never cease, at least while youth lasts, and no community is +free from them, even so quiet a one as ours there in the valley of the +old Blue Ridge, before the wars had rolled across it and made all the +young people old. + +I was of no mind to end my wildness and my roaming just yet; and still, +seeing that I was, by gentleness of my Quaker mother and by sternness of +my Virginia father, set in the class of gentlemen, I had no wish +dishonorably to engage a woman's heart. Alas, I was not the first to +learn that kissing is a most difficult art to practice! + +When one reflects, the matter seems most intricate. Life to the young is +barren without kissing; yet a kiss with too much warmth may mean +overmuch, whereas a kiss with no warmth to it is not worth the pains. +The kiss which comes precisely at the moment when it should, in quite +sufficient warmth and yet not of complicating fervor, working no harm +and but joy to both involved--those kisses, now that one pauses to think +it over, are relatively few. + +As for me, I thought it was time for me to be going. + + + + +CHAPTER II + +THE MEETING OF GORDON ORME + + +I had enough to do when it came to mounting my horse Satan. Few cared to +ride Satan, since it meant a battle each time he was mounted. He was a +splendid brute, black and clean, with abundant bone in the head and a +brilliant eye--blood all over, that was easy to see. Yet he was a +murderer at heart. I have known him to bite the backbone out of a +yearling pig that came under his manger, and no other horse on our farm +would stand before him a moment when he came on, mouth open and ears +laid back. He would fight man, dog, or devil, and fear was not in him, +nor any real submission. He was no harder to sit than many horses I have +ridden. I have seen Arabians and Barbary horses and English hunters that +would buck-jump now and then. Satan contented himself with rearing high +and whirling sharply, and lunging with a low head; so that to ride him +was a matter of strength as well as skill. The greatest danger was in +coming near his mouth or heels. My father always told me that this horse +was not fit to ride; but since my father rode him--as he would any horse +that offered--nothing would serve me but I must ride Satan also, and so +I made him my private saddler on occasion. + +I ought to speak of my father, that very brave and kindly gentleman from +whom I got what daring I ever had, I suppose. He was a clean-cut man, +five-eleven in his stockings, and few men in all that country had a +handsomer body. His shoulders sloped--an excellent configuration for +strength--as a study of no less a man than George Washington will +prove--his arms were round, his skin white as milk, his hair, like my +own, a sandy red, and his eyes blue and very quiet. There was a balance +in his nature that I have ever lacked. I rejoice even now in his love of +justice. Fair play meant with him something more than fair play for the +sake of sport--it meant as well fair play for the sake of justice. +Temperate to the point of caring always for his body's welfare, as +regular in his habits as he was in his promises and their fulfillments, +kindling readily enough at any risk, though never boasting--I always +admired him, and trust I may be pardoned for saying so. I fear that at +the time I mention now I admired him most for his strength and courage. + +Thus as I swung leg over Satan that morning I resolved to handle him as +I had seen my father do, and I felt strong enough for that. I +remembered, in the proud way a boy will have, the time when my father +and I, riding through the muddy streets of Leesburg town together, saw a +farmer's wagon stuck midway of a crossing. "Come, Jack," my father +called me, "we must send Bill Yarnley home to his family." Then we two +dismounted, and stooping in the mud got our two shoulders under the axle +of the wagon, before we were done with it, our blood getting up at the +laughter of the townsfolk. When we heaved together, out came Bill +Yarnley's wagon from the mud, and the laughter ended. It was like +him--he would not stop when once he started. Why, it was so he married +my mother, that very sweet Quakeress from the foot of old Catoctin. He +told me she said him no many times, not liking his wild ways, so +contrary to the manner of the Society of Friends; and she only +consented after binding him to go with her once each week to the little +stone church at Wallingford village, near our farm, provided he should +be at home and able to attend. My mother I think during her life had not +missed a half dozen meetings at the little stone church. Twice a week, +and once each Sunday, and once each month, and four times each year, and +also annually, the Society of Friends met there at Wallingford, and have +done so for over one hundred and thirty-five years. Thither went my +mother, quiet, brown-haired, gentle, as good a soul as ever lived, and +with her my father, tall, strong as a tree, keeping his promise until at +length by sheer force of this kept promise, he himself became half +Quaker and all gentle, since he saw what it meant to her. + +As I have paused in my horsemanship to speak thus of my father, I ought +also to speak of my mother. It was she who in those troublous times just +before the Civil War was the first to raise the voice in the Quaker +Meeting which said that the Friends ought to free their slaves, law or +no law; and so started what was called later the Unionist sentiment in +that part of old Virginia. It was my mother did that. Then she asked my +father to manumit all his slaves; and he thought for an hour, and then +raised his head and said it should be done; after which the servants +lived on as before, and gave less in return, at which my father made wry +faces, but said nothing in regret. After us others also set free their +people, and presently this part of Virginia was a sort of Mecca for +escaped blacks. It was my mother did that; and I believe that it was her +influence which had much to do with the position of East Virginia on the +question of the war. And this also in time had much to do with this +strange story of mine, and much to do with the presence thereabout of +the man whom I was to meet that very morning; although when I started to +mount my horse Satan I did not know that such a man as Gordon Orme +existed in the world. + +When I approached Satan he lunged at me, but I caught him by the cheek +strap of the bridle and swung his head close up, feeling for the saddle +front as he reached for me with open mouth. Then as he reared I swung up +with him into place, and so felt safe, for once I clamped a horse fair +there was an end of his throwing me. I laughed when Miss Grace Sheraton +called out in alarm, and so wheeled Satan around a few times and rode on +down the road, past the fields where the blacks were busy as blacks ever +are, and so on to our own red pillared-gates. + +Then, since the morning was still young, and since the air seemed to me +like wine, and since I wanted something to subdue and Satan offered, I +spurred him back from the gate and rode him hard down toward +Wallingford. Of course he picked up a stone en route. Two of us held his +head while Billings the blacksmith fished out the stone and tapped the +shoe nails tight. After that I had time to look around. + +As I did so I saw approaching a gentleman who was looking with interest +at my mount. He was one of the most striking men I have ever seen, a +stranger as I could see, for I knew each family on both sides the Blue +Ridge as far up the valley as White Sulphur. + +"A grand animal you have there, sir," said he, accosting Me. "I did not +know his like existed in this country." + +"As well in this as in any country," said I tartly. He smiled at this. + +"You know his breeding?" + +"Klingwalla out of Bonnie Waters." + +"No wonder he's vicious," said the stranger, calmly. + +"Ah, you know something of the English strains," said I. He shrugged his +shoulders. "As much as that," he commented indifferently. + +There was something about him I did not fancy, a sort of condescension, +as though he were better than those about him. They say that we +Virginians have a way of reserving that right to ourselves; and I +suppose that a family of clean strain may perhaps become proud after +generations of independence and comfort and freedom from care. None the +less I was forced to admit this newcomer to the class of gentlemen. He +stood as a gentleman, with no resting or bracing with an arm, or +crossing of legs or hitching about, but balanced on his legs +easily--like a fencer or boxer or fighting man, or gentleman, in short. +His face, as I now perceived, was long and thin, his chin square, +although somewhat narrow. His mouth, too, was narrow, and his teeth were +narrow, one of the upper teeth at each side like the tooth of a +carnivore, longer than its fellows. His hair was thick and close cut to +his head, dark, and if the least bit gray about the edges, requiring +close scrutiny to prove it so. In color his skin was dark, sunburned +beyond tan, almost to parchment dryness. His eyes were gray, the most +remarkable eyes that I have ever seen--calm, emotionless, direct, the +most fearless eyes I have ever seen in mortal head, and I have looked +into many men's eyes in my time. He was taller than most men, I think +above the six feet line. His figure was thin, his limbs thin, his hands +and feet slender. He did not look one-tenth his strength. He was simply +dressed, dressed indeed as a gentleman. He stood as one, spoke as one, +and assumed that all the world accepted him as one. His voice was warmer +in accent than even our Virginia speech. I saw him to be an Englishman. + +"He is a bit nasty, that one"; he nodded his head toward Satan. + +I grinned. "I know of only two men in Fairfax County I'd back to ride +him." + +"Yourself and--" + +"My father." + +"By Jove! How old is your father, my good fellow?" + +"Sixty, my good fellow," I replied. He laughed. + +"Well," said he, "there's a third in Fairfax can ride him." + +"Meaning yourself?" + +He nodded carelessly. I did not share his confidence. "He's not a +saddler in any sense," said I. "We keep him for the farms." + +"Oh, I say, my friend," he rejoined--"my name's Orme, Gordon Orme--I'm +just stopping here at the inn for a time, and I'm deucedly bored. I've +not had leg over a decent mount since I've been here, and if I might +ride this beggar, I'd be awfully obliged." + +My jaw may have dropped at his words; I am not sure. It was not that he +called our little tavern an "inn." It was the name he gave me which +caused me to start. + +"Orme," said I, "Mr. Gordon Orme? That was the name of the speaker the +other evening here at the church of the Methodists." + +He nodded, smiling. "Don't let that trouble you," said he. + +None the less it did trouble me; for the truth was that word had gone +about to the effect that a new minister from some place not stated had +spoken from the pulpit on that evening upon no less a topic than the +ever present one of Southern slavery. Now, I could not clear it to my +mind how a minister of the gospel might take so keen and swift an +interest in a stranger in the street, and that stranger's horse. I +expressed to him something of my surprise. + +"It's of no importance," said he again. "What seems to me of most +importance just at present is that here's a son of old Klingwalla, and +that I want to ride him." + +"Just for the sake of saying you have done so?" I inquired. + +His face changed swiftly as he answered: "We owned Klingwalla ourselves +back home. He broke a leg for my father, and was near killing him." + +"Sir," I said to him, catching his thought quickly, "we could not afford +to have the horse injured, but if you wish to ride him fair or be beaten +by him fair, you are welcome to the chance." + +His eye kindled at this. "You're a sportsman, sir," he exclaimed, and he +advanced at once toward Satan. + +I saw in him something which awakened a responsive chord in my nature. +He was a man to take a risk and welcome it for the risk's sake. +Moreover, he was a horseman; as I saw by his quick glance over Satan's +furniture. He caught the cheek strap of the bridle, and motioned us away +as we would have helped him at the horse's head. Then ensued as pretty a +fight between man and horse as one could ask to see. The black brute +reared and fairly took him from the ground, fairly chased him about the +street, as a great dog would a rat. But never did the iron hold on the +bridle loosen, and the man was light on his feet as a boy. Finally he +had his chance, and with the lightest spring I ever saw at a saddle +skirt, up he went and nailed old Satan fair, with a grip which ridged +his legs out. I saw then that he was a rider. His head was bare, his hat +having fallen off; his hair was tumbled, but his color scarcely +heightened. As the horse lunged and bolted about the street, Orme sat +him in perfect confidence. He kept his hands low, his knees a little +more up and forward than we use in our style of riding, and his weight a +trifle further back; but I saw from the lines of his limbs that he had +the horse in a steel grip. He gazed down contemplatively, with a half +serious look, master of himself and of the horse as well. Then presently +he turned him up the road and went off at a gallop, with the brute under +perfect control. I do not know what art he used; all I can say is that +in a half hour he brought Satan back in a canter. + +This was my first acquaintance with Gordon Orme, that strange +personality with whom I was later to have much to do. This was my first +witnessing of that half uncanny power by which he seemed to win all +things to his purposes. I admired him, yet did not like him, when he +swung carelessly down and handed me the reins. + +"He's a grand one," he said easily, "but not so difficult to ride as old +Klingwalla. Not that I would discount your own skill in riding him, sir, +for I doubt not you have taken a lot out of him before now." + +At least this was generous, and as I later learned, it was like him to +give full credit to the performance of any able adversary. + + + + +CHAPTER III + +THE ART OF THE ORIENT + + +"Come," said Orme to me, "let us go into the shade, for I find your +Virginia morning warm." + +We stepped over to the gallery of the little tavern, where the shade was +deep and the chairs were wide and the honeysuckles sweet. I threw myself +rather discontentedly into a chair. Orme seated himself quietly in +another, his slender legs crossed easily, his hands meeting above his +elbows supported on the chair rails, as he gazed somewhat meditatively +at his finger tips. + +"So you did not hear my little effort the other night?" he remarked, +smiling. + +"I was not so fortunate as to hear you speak. But I will only say I will +back you against any minister of the gospel I ever knew when it comes to +riding horses." + +"Oh, well," he deprecated, "I'm just passing through on my way to +Albemarle County across the mountains. You couldn't blame me for wanting +something to do--speaking or riding, or what not. One must be occupied, +you know. But shall we not have them bring us one of these juleps of the +country? I find them most agreeable, I declare." + +I did not criticise his conduct as a wearer of the cloth, but declined +his hospitality on the ground that it was early in the day for me. He +urged me so little and was so much the gentleman that I explained. + +"Awhile ago," I said, "my father came to me and said, 'I see, Jack, that +thee is trying to do three things--to farm, hunt foxes, and drink +juleps. Does thee think thee can handle all three of these activities in +combination?' You see, my mother is a Quakeress, and when my father +wished to reprove me he uses the plain speech. Well, sir, I thought it +over, and for the most part I dropped the other two, and took up more +farming." + +"Your father is Mr. John Cowles, of Cowles' Farms?" + +"The same." + +"No doubt your family know every one in this part of the country?" + +"Oh, yes, very well." + +"These are troublous times," he ventured, after a time. "I mean in +regard to this talk of secession of the Southern States." + +I was studying this man. What was he doing here in our quiet country +community? What was his errand? What business had a julep-drinking, +horse-riding parson speaking in a Virginia pulpit where only the gospel +was known, and that from exponents worth the name? + +"You are from Washington?" I said at length. + +He nodded. + +"The country is going into deep water one way or the other," said I. +"Virginia is going to divide on slavery. It is not for me, nor for any +of us, to hasten that time. Trouble will come fast enough without our +help." + +"I infer you did not wholly approve of my little effort the other +evening. I was simply looking at the matter from a logical standpoint. +It is perfectly clear that the old world must have cotton, that the +Southern States must supply that cotton, and that slavery alone makes +cotton possible for the world. It is a question of geography rather than +of politics; yet your Northern men make it a question of politics. Your +Congress is full of rotten tariff legislation, which will make a few of +your Northern men rich--and which will bring on this war quite as much +as anything the South may do. Moreover, this tariff disgusts England, +very naturally. Where will England side when the break comes? And what +will be the result when the South, plus England, fights these tariff +makers over here? I have no doubt that you, sir, know the complexion of +all these neighborhood families in these matters. I should be most happy +if you could find it possible for me to meet your father and his +neighbors, for in truth I am interested in these matters, merely as a +student. And I have heard much of the kindness of this country toward +strangers." + +It was not our way in Virginia to allow persons of any breeding to put +up at public taverns. We took them to our homes. I have seen a hundred +horses around my father's barns during the Quarterly Meetings of the +Society of Friends. Perhaps we did not scrutinize all our guests +over-closely, but that was the way of the place. I had no hesitation in +saying to Mr. Orme that we should be glad to entertain him at Cowles' +Farms. He was just beginning to thank me for this when we were suddenly +interrupted. + +We were sitting some paces from the room where landlord Sanderson kept +his bar, so that we heard only occasionally the sound of loud talk which +came through the windows. But now came footsteps and confused words in +voices, one of which I seemed to know. There staggered through the door +a friend of mine, Harry Singleton, a young planter of our neighborhood, +who had not taken my father's advice, but continued to divide his favor +between farming, hunting and drinking. He stood there leaning against +the wall, his face more flushed than one likes to see a friend's face +before midday. + +"Hullo, ol' fel," he croaked at me. "Hurrah for C'fedrate States of +America!" + +"Very well," I said to him, "suppose we do hurrah for the Confederate +States of America. But let us wait until there is such a thing." + +He glowered at me. "Also," he said, solemnly, "Hurrah for Miss Grace +Sheraton, the pretties' girl in whole C'federate States America!" + +"Harry," I cried, "stop! You're drunk, man. Come on, I'll take you +home." + +He waved at me an uncertain hand. "Go 'way, slight man!" he muttered. +"Grace Sheraton pretties' girl in whole C'federate States America." + +According to our creed it was not permissible for a gentleman, drunk or +sober, to mention a lady's name in a place like that. I rose and put my +hand across Harry's mouth, unwilling that a stranger should hear a +girl's name mentioned in the place. No doubt I should have done quite as +much for any girl of our country whose name came up in that way. But to +my surprise Harry Singleton was just sufficiently intoxicated to resent +the act of his best friend. With no word of warning he drew back his +hand and struck me in the face with all his force, the blow making a +smart crack which brought all the others running from within. Still, I +reflected, that this was not the act of Harry Singleton, but only that +of a drunken man who to-morrow would not remember what had been done. + +"That will be quite enough, Harry," said I. "Come, now, I'll take you +home. Sanderson, go get his horse or wagon, or whatever brought him +here." + +"Not home!" cried Harry. "First inflict punishment on you for denyin' +Miss Gracie Sheraton pretties' girl whole C'fedrate States America. +Girls like John Cowles too much! Must mash John Cowles! Must mash John +Cowles sake of Gracie Sheraton, pretties' girl in whole wide worl'!" + +He came toward me as best he might, his hands clenched. I caught him by +the wrist, and as he stumbled past, I turned and had his arm over my +shoulder. I admit I threw him rather cruelly hard, for I thought he +needed it. He was entirely quiet when we carried him into the room and +placed him on the leather lounge. + +"By Jove!" I heard a voice at my elbow. "That was handsomely +done--handsomely done all around." + +I turned to meet the outstretched hand of my new friend, Gordon Orme. + +"Where did you learn the trick?" he asked. + +"The trick of being a gentleman," I answered him slowly, my face red +with anger at Singleton's foolishness, "I never learned at all. But to +toss a poor drunken fool like that over one's head any boy might learn +at school." + +"No," said my quasi-minister of the gospel, emphatically, "I differ with +you. Your time was perfect. You made him do the work, not yourself. Tell +me, are you a skilled wrestler?" + +I was nettled now at all these things which were coming to puzzle and +perturb an honest fellow out for a morning ride. + +"Yes," I answered him, "since you are anxious to know, I'll say I can +throw any man in Fairfax except one." + +"And he?" + +"My father. He's sixty, as I told you, but he can always beat me." + +"There are two in Fairfax you cannot throw," said Orme, smiling. + +My blood was up just enough to resent this challenge. There came to me +what old Dr. Hallowell at Alexandria calls the "_gaudium certaminis_." +In a moment I was little more than a full-blooded fighting animal, and +had forgotten all the influences of my Quaker home. + +"Sir," I said to him hotly, "I propose taking you home with me. But +before I do that, and since you seem to wish it, I am going to lay you +on your back here in the road. Frankly, there are some things about you +I do not like, and if that will remedy your conceit, I'm going to do it +for you--for any sort of wager you like." + +"Money against your horse?" he inquired, stripping to his ruffled shirt +as he spoke. "A hundred guineas, five hundred?" + +"Yes, for the horse," I said. "He's worth ten thousand. But if you've +two or three hundred to pay for my soiling the shoulders of your shirt, +I'm willing to let the odds stand so." + +He smiled at me simply--I swear almost winningly, such was the quality +of the man. + +"I like you," he said simply. "If all the men of this country resembled +you, all the world could not beat it." + +I was stripped by this time myself, and so, without pausing to consider +the propriety on either side of our meeting in this sudden encounter in +a public street, we went at it as though we had made a rendezvous there +for that express purpose, with no more hesitation and no more fitness +than two game cocks which might fall fighting in a church in case they +met there. + +Orme came to me with no hurry and no anxiety, light on his feet as a +skilled fencer. As he passed he struck for my shoulder, and his grip, +although it did not hold, was like the cutting of a hawk's talons. He +branded me red with his fingers wherever he touched me, although the +stroke of his hand was half tentative rather than aggressive. I went to +him with head low, and he caught me at the back of the neck with a +stroke like that of a smiting bar; but I flung him off, and so we +stepped about, hands extended, waiting for a hold. He grew eager, and +allowed me to catch him by the wrist. I drew him toward me, but he +braced with his free arm bent against my throat, and the more I pulled, +the more I choked. Then by sheer strength I drew his arm over my +shoulder as I had that of Harry Singleton. He glided into this as though +it had been his own purpose, and true as I speak I think he aided me in +throwing him over my head, for he went light as a feather, and fell on +his feet when I freed him. I was puzzled not a little, for the like of +this I had not seen in all my meetings with good men. + +As we stepped about cautiously, seeking to engage again, his eye was +fixed on mine curiously, half contemplatively, but utterly without +concern or fear of any kind. I never saw an eye like his. It gave me not +fear, but horror! The more I encountered him, the more uncanny he +appeared. The lock of the arm at the back of the neck, those holds known +as the Nelson and the half-Nelson, and the ancient "hip lock," and the +ineffectual schoolboy "grapevine"--he would none of things so crude, and +slipped out of them like a snake. Continually I felt his hands, and +where he touched there was pain--on my forehead, at the edge of the eye +sockets, at the sides of my neck, in the middle of my back--whenever we +locked and broke I felt pain, and I knew that such assault upon the +nerve centers of a man's body might well disable him, no matter how +strong he was. But, as for him, he did not breathe the faster. It was +system with him. I say, I felt not fear only but a horror of him. + +By chance I found myself with both hands on his arms, and I knew that no +man could break that hold when once set, for vast strength of forearm +and wrist was one of the inheritances of all men of the Cowles family. I +drew him steadily to me, pulled his head against my chest, and upended +him fair, throwing him this time at length across my shoulder. I was +sure I had him then, for he fell on his side. But even as he fell he +rose, and I felt a grip like steel on each ankle. Then there was a +snake-like bend on his part, and before I had time to think I was on my +face. His knees were astride my body, and gradually I felt them pushing +my arms up toward my neck. I felt a slight blow on the back of my head, +as though by the edge of the hand--light, delicate, gentle, but dreamy +in its results. Then I was half conscious of a hand pushing down my +head, of another hand reaching for my right wrist. It occurred to me in +a distant way that I was about to be beaten, subdued--I, John Cowles! + +This had been done, as he had said of my own work with Singleton, as +much by the momentum of my own fall as by any great effort on his part. +As he had said regarding my own simple trick, the time of this was +perfect, though how far more difficult than mine, only those who have +wrestled with able men can understand. + +For the first time in my life I found myself about to be mastered by +another man. Had he been more careful he certainly would have had the +victory over me. But the morning was warm, and we had worked for some +moments. My man stopped for a moment in his calm pinioning of my arms, +and perhaps raised his hand to brush his face or push back his hair. At +that moment luck came to my aid. He did not repeat the strange gentle +blow at the back of my head--one which I think would have left +unconscious a man with a neck less stiff--and as his pressure on my +twisted arm relaxed, I suddenly got back my faculties. At once I used my +whole body as a spring, and so straightened enough to turn and put my +arm power against his own, which was all I wanted. + +He laughed when I turned, and with perfect good nature freed my arm and +sprang to his feet, bowing with hand upreached to me. His eye had lost +its peculiar stare, and shone now with what seemed genuine interest and +admiration. He seemed ready to call me a sportsman, and a good rival, +and much as I disliked to do so, I was obliged to say as much for him in +my own heart. + +"By the Lord! sir," he said--with a certain looseness of speech, as it +seemed to me, for a minister of the gospel to employ, "you're the first +I ever knew to break it." + +"'Twas no credit to me," I owned. "You let go your hand. The horse is +yours." + +"Not in the least," he responded, "not in the least. If I felt I had won +him I'd take him, and not leave you feeling as though you had been given +a present. But if you like I'll draw my own little wager as well. You're +the best man I ever met in any country. By the Lord! man, you broke the +hold that I once saw an ex-guardsman killed at Singapore for +resisting--broke his arm short off, and he died on the table. I've seen +it at Tokio and Nagasaki--why, man, it's the yellow policeman's hold, +the secret trick of the Orient. Done in proper time, and the little +gentleman is the match of any size, yellow or white." + +I did not understand him then, but later I knew that I had for my first +time seen the Oriental art of wrestling put in practice. I do not want +to meet a master in it again. I shook Orme by the hand. + +"If you like to call it a draw," said I, "it would suit me mighty well. +You're the best man I ever took off coat to in my life. And I'll never +wrestle you again unless"--I fear I blushed a little--"well, unless you +want it." + +"Game! Game!" he cried, laughing, and dusting off his knees. "I swear +you Virginians are fellows after my own heart. But come, I think your +friend wants you now." + +We turned toward the room where poor Harry was mumbling to himself, and +presently I loaded him into the wagon and told the negro man to drive +him home. + +For myself, I mounted Satan and rode off up the street of Wallingford +toward Cowles' Farms with my head dropped in thought; for certainly, +when I came to review the incidents of the morning, I had had enough to +give me reason for reflection. + + + + +CHAPTER IV + +WARS AND RUMORS OF WAR + + +We sent our carriage down to Wallingford that evening and had my new +friend, Mr. Orme, out to Cowles' Farms for that night. He was a stranger +in the land, and that was enough. I often think to-day how ready we were +to welcome any who came, and how easily we might have been deceived as +to the nature of such chance guests. + +Yet Orme so finely conducted himself that none might criticise him, and +indeed both my father and mother appeared fairly to form a liking for +him. This was the more surprising on the part of both, since they were +fully advised of the nature of his recent speech, or sermon, or what you +choose to call it, at the Methodist church, the sentiments of which +scarce jumped with their own. Both my parents accepted Orme for what he +purported to be, a minister of the gospel; and any singularity of his +conduct which they may have noticed they ascribed to his education in +communities different from our own quiet one. I remember no acrimonious +speech during his visit with us, although the doctrine which he had +pronounced and which now and again, in one form or another, he renewed, +was not in accord with ours. I recall very well the discussions they +had, and remember how formally my mother would begin her little +arguments: "Friend, I am moved to say to thee"; and then she would go +on to tell him gently that all men should be brothers, and that there +should be peace on earth, and that no man should oppress his brother in +any way, and that slavery ought not to exist. + +"What! madam," Orme would exclaim, "this manner of thought in a Southern +family!" And so he in turn would go on repeating his old argument of +geography, and saying how England must side with the South, and how the +South must soon break with the North. "This man Lincoln, if elected," +said he, "will confiscate every slave in the Southern States. He will +cripple and ruin the South, mark my words. He will cost the South +millions that never will be repaid. I cannot see how any Virginian can +fail to stand with all his Southern brothers, front to front against the +North on these vital questions." + +"I do not think the South would fight the North over slavery alone. The +South loves the flag, because she helped create it as much or more than +the North. She will not bear treason to the flag." Thus my father. + +"It would be no treason," affirmed Orme, "but duty, if that flag became +the flag of oppression. The Anglo-Saxon has from King John down refused +to be governed unjustly and oppressively." + +And so they went on, hour after hour, not bitterly, but hotly, as was +the fashion all over the land at that time. My father remained a Whig, +which put him in line, sometimes, with the Northern men then coming into +prominence, such as Morrill of New England, and young Sherman from +across the mountains, who believed in the tariff in spite of what +England might say to us. This set him against the Jefferson clans of our +state, who feared not a war with the North so much as one with Europe. +Already England was pronouncing her course; yet those were not days of +triumphant conclusions, but of doubtful weighing and hard judgment, as +we in old Virginia could have told you, who saw neighbors set against +each other, and even families divided among themselves. + +For six years the war talk had been growing stronger. Those of the South +recoiled from the word treason--it had a hateful sound to them--nor have +they to this day justified its application to themselves. I myself +believe to-day that that war was much one of geography and of lack of +transportation. Not all the common folk of the North or of the South +then knew that it was never so much a war of principle, as they were +taught to think, but rather a war of self-interest between two clashing +commercial parties. We did not know that the unscrupulous kings of the +cotton world, here and abroad, were making deliberate propaganda of +secession all over the South; that secession was not a thing voluntary +and spontaneous, but an idea nourished to wrong growth by a secret and +shrewd commercial campaign, whose nature and extent few dreamed, either +then or afterward. It was not these rich and arrogant planters of the +South, even, men like our kin in the Carolinas, men like those of the +Sheraton family, who were the pillars of the Confederacy, or rather, of +the secession idea. Back of them, enshrouded forever in darkness--then +in mystery, and now in oblivion which cannot be broken--were certain +great figures of the commercial world in this land and in other lands. +These made a victim of our country at that time, even as a few great +commercial figures seek to do to-day, and we, poor innocent fools, flew +at each other's throats, and fought, and slew, and laid waste a land, +for no real principle and to no gain to ourselves. Nothing is so easy to +deceive, to hoodwink, to blind and betray, as a great and innocent +people that in its heart loves justice and fair play. + +I fear, however, that while much of this talk was going on upon the +galleries at Cowles' Farms, I myself was busier with the training of my +pointer than I was with matters of politics. I was not displeased when +my mother came to me presently that afternoon and suggested that we +should all make a visit to Dixiana Farm, to call upon our neighbors, the +Sheratons. + +"Mr. Orme says he would like to meet Colonel Sheraton," she explained, +"and thee knows that we have not been to see our neighbors for some time +now. I thought that perhaps Colonel Sheraton might be moved to listen to +me as well as to Mr. Orme, if I should speak of peace--not in argument, +as thee knows, but as his neighbor." + +She looked at me a moment, her hand dusting at my coat. "Thee knows the +Sheratons and the Cowles have sometimes been friends and sometimes +enemies--I would rather we were friends. And, Jack, Miss Grace is quite +thy equal--it any may be the equal of my boy. And some day thee must be +thinking, thee knows--" + +"I was already thinking, mother," said I gravely; and so, indeed, I was, +though perhaps not quite as she imagined. + +At least that is how we happened to ride to the Sheratons that +afternoon, in our greater carriage, my father and Mr. Orme by the side +of my mother, and I alongside on horseback. In some way the visit seemed +to have a formal nature. + +Colonel Sheraton met us at his lawn, and as the day was somewhat warm, +asked us to be seated in the chairs beneath the oaks. Here Miss Grace +joined us presently, and Orme was presented to her, as well as to Mrs. +Sheraton, tall, dark, and lace-draped, who also joined us in response to +Colonel Sheraton's request. I could not fail to notice the quick glance +with which Orme took in the face and figure of Grace Sheraton; and, +indeed he had been a critical man who would not have called her fair to +look upon. + +The elder members of the party fell to conversing in their +rocking-chairs there on the lawn, and I was selfish enough to withdraw +Miss Grace to the gallery steps, where we sat for a time, laughing and +talking, while I pulled the ears of their hunting dog, and rolled under +foot a puppy or two, which were my friends. I say, none could have +failed to call Grace Sheraton fair. It pleased me better to sit there on +the gallery steps and talk with her than to listen once more to the +arguments over slavery and secession. I could hear Colonel Sheraton's +deep voice every now and then emphatically coinciding with some +statement made by Orme. I could see the clean-cut features of the +latter, and his gestures, strongly but not flamboyantly made. + +As for us two, the language that goes without speech between a young man +and a maid passed between us. I rejoiced to mock at her, always, and did +so now, declaring again my purpose to treat her simply as my neighbor +and not as a young lady finished at the best schools of Philadelphia. +But presently in some way, I scarce can say by whose first motion, we +arose and strolled together around the corner of the house and out into +the orchard. + + + + +CHAPTER V + +THE MADNESS OF MUCH KISSING + + +"That was a very noble thing of you," Miss Grace Sheraton was saying to +me, as we passed slowly among the big trees of the Sheraton apple +orchard. Her eyes were rather soft and a slight color lay upon her +cheeks, whose ivory hue was rarely heightened in this way. + +"I am in ignorance, Miss Grace," I said to her. + +"Fie! You know very well what I mean--about yesterday." + +"Oh, that," said I, and went rather red of the face, for I thought she +meant my salutation at the gate. + +She, redder now than myself, needed no explanation as to what I meant. +"No, not that," she began hastily, "that was not noble, but vile of you! +I mean at the tavern, where you took my part--" + +So then I saw that word in some way had come to her of the little brawl +between Harry Singleton and myself. Then indeed my face grew scarlet. +"It was nothing," said I, "simply nothing at all." But to this she would +not listen. + +"To protect an absent woman is always manly," she said. (It was the +women of the South who set us all foolish about chivalry.) "I thank you +for caring for my name." + +Now, I should have grown warmer in the face and in the heart at this, +but the very truth is that I felt a chill come over me, as though I +were getting deeper into cold water. I guessed her mind. Now, how was I, +who had kissed her at the lane, who had defended her when absent, who +called now in state with his father and mother in the family +carriage--how was I to say I was not of the same mind as she? I pulled +the ears of the hunting dog until he yelped in pain. + +We were deep in the great Sheraton orchard, across the fence which +divided it from the house grounds, so far that only the great chimney of +the house showed above the trees. The shade was gracious, the fragrance +alluring. At a distance the voices of singing negroes came to us. +Presently we came to a fallen apple tree, a giant perhaps planted there +generations before. We seated ourselves here, and we should have been +happy, for we were young, and all about us was sweet and comforting. +Yet, on my honor, I would rather at that moment have been talking to my +mother than to Grace Sheraton. I did not know why. + +For some time we sat there, pulling at apple blossoms and grass stems, +and talking of many things quite beside the real question; but at last +there came an interruption. I heard the sound of a low, rumbling bellow +approaching through the trees, and as I looked up I saw, coming forward +with a certain confidence, Sir Jonas, the red Sheraton bull, with a ring +in his nose, and in his carriage an intense haughtiness for one so +young. I knew all about Sir Jonas, for we had bred him on our farm, and +sold him not long since to the Sheratons. + +Miss Grace gathered her skirts for instant flight, but I quickly pushed +her down. I knew the nature of Sir Jonas very well, and saw that flight +would mean disaster long before she could reach any place of safety. + +"Keep quiet," I said to her in a low voice. "Don't make any quick +motions, or he'll charge. Come with me, slowly now." + +Very pale, and with eyes staring at the intruder, she arose as I bade +her and slowly moved toward the tree which I had in mind. "Now--quick!" +I said, and catching her beneath the arms I swung her up into the low +branches. Her light lawn gown caught on a knotty limb, somewhat to her +perturbation, and ere I could adjust it and get her safe aloft Sir Jonas +had made up his mind. He came on with head down, in a short, savage +rush, and his horn missed my trouser leg by no more than an inch as I +dodged around the tree. At this I laughed, but Miss Grace screamed, +until between my hasty actions I called to her to keep quiet. + +Sir Jonas seemed to have forgotten my voice, and though I commanded him +to be gone, he only shook his curly front and came again with head low +and short legs working very fast. Once more he nearly caught me with a +side lunge of his wicked horns as he whirled. He tossed up his head then +and bolted for the tree where Miss Grace had her refuge. Then I saw it +was the red lining of her Parisian parasol which had enraged him. "Throw +it down!" I called out to her. She could not find it in her heart to +toss it straight down to Sir Jonas, who would have trampled it at once, +so she cast it sidelong toward me, and inch by inch I beat Sir Jonas in +the race to it. Then I resolved that he should not have it at all, and +so tossed it into the branches of another tree as I ran. + +"Come," called the girl to me, "jump! Get up into a tree. He can't catch +you there." + +But I was in no mind to take to a tree, and wait for some inglorious +discovery by a rescue party from the house. I found my fighting blood +rising, and became of the mind to show Sir Jonas who was his master, +regardless of who might be his owner. + +His youth kept him in good wind still, and he charged me again and +again, keeping me hard put to it to find trees enough, even in an +orchard full of trees. Once he ripped the bark half off a big trunk as I +sprang behind it, and he stood with his head still pressed there, not +two feet from where I was, with my hand against the tree, braced for a +sudden spring. His front foot dug in the sod, his eyes were red, and +between his grumbles his breath came in puffs and snorts of anger. +Evidently he meant me ill, and this thought offended me. + +Near by me on the ground lay a ragged limb, cut from some tree by the +pruners, now dry, tough and not ill-shaped for a club. I reached back +with my foot and pulled it within reach, then stooped quickly and got it +in hand, breaking off a few of the lesser branches with one foot, as we +still stood there eying each other. "Now, sir," said I to Sir Jonas at +last, "I shall show you that no little bull two years old can make me a +laughing stock." Then I sprang out and carried the war into Africa +forthwith. + +Sir Jonas was surprised when I came from behind the tree and swung a +hard blow to the side of his tender nose; and as I repeated this, he +grunted, blew out his breath and turned his head to one side with closed +eyes, raising his muzzle aloft in pain. Once more I struck him fair on +the muzzle, and this time he bawled loudly in surprise and anguish, and +so turned to run. This act of his offered me fair hold upon his tail, +and so affixed to him, I followed smiting him upon the back with blows +which I think cut through his hide where the pointed knots struck. Thus +with loud orders and with a voice which he ought better to have +remembered, I brought him to his senses and pursued him entirely out of +the orchard, so that he had no mind whatever to return. After which, +with what dignity I could summon, I returned to the tree where Grace +Sheraton was still perched aloft. Drawing my riding gloves from my +pocket I reached up my hands, somewhat soiled with the encounter, and so +helped her down to earth once more. And once more her gaze, soft and not +easily to be mistaken, rested upon me. + +"Tell me, Jack Cowles," she said, "is there anything in the world you +are afraid to do?" + +"At least I'm not afraid to give a lesson to any little Sir Jonas that +has forgot his manners," I replied. "But I hope you are not hurt in any +way?" She shook her head, smoothing out her gown, and again raised her +eyes to mine. + +We seated ourselves again upon our fallen apple tree. Her hand fell upon +my coat sleeve. We raised our eyes. They met. Our lips met also--I do +not know how. + +I do not hold myself either guilty or guiltless. I am only a man now. I +was only a boy then. But even then I had my notions, right or wrong, as +to what a gentleman should be and do. At least this is how Grace +Sheraton and I became engaged. + + + + +CHAPTER VI + +A SAD LOVER + + +I shall never forget the scene there under the oak of the Sheraton front +yard, which met my gaze when Miss Grace and I came about the corner of +the house. + +Before us, and facing each other, stood my father and Colonel Sheraton, +the former standing straight and tall, Colonel Sheraton with tightly +clenched hand resting on his stick, his white hair thrown back, his +shaggy brows contracted. My mother sat in the low rocker which had been +brought to her, and opposite her, leaning forward, was Mrs. Sheraton, +tall, thin, her black eyes fixed upon the men. Orme, also standing, his +hands behind him, regarded the troubled men intently. Near at hand was +the Sheratons' Jim, his face also fixed upon them; and such was his own +emotion that he had tipped his silver tray and dropped one of the +Sheraton cut glass julep glasses to the sod. + +It was mid-afternoon, or evening, as we call it in Virginia, and the +light was still frank and strong, though the wind was softening among +the great oaks, and the flowers were sweet all about. It was a scene of +peace; but it was not peace which occupied those who made its central +figures. + +"I tell you, Cowles," said Colonel Sheraton, grinding his stick into the +turf, "you do not talk like a Virginian. If the North keeps on this +course, then we Southerners must start a country of our own. Look, +man--" He swept about him an arm which included his own wide acres and +ours, lying there shimmering clear to the thin line of the old Blue +Ridge--"We must fight for these homes!" + +My mother stirred in her chair, but she made no speech, only looked at +my father. + +"You forget, Colonel," said my father in his low, deep voice, "that this +man Lincoln has not yet been elected, and that even if elected he may +prove a greater figure than we think. He has not yet had chance to learn +the South." + +Orme had been standing silent, his face indifferent or faintly lighted +with an habitual cynicism. Now he broke in. "He will never be elected," +he said emphatically. "It would ruin the entire industry of the South. I +tell you Lincoln is thinking of his own political advancement and caring +nothing for this country. The South _must_ secede, gentlemen--if you +will allow me as a stranger to venture an opinion." + +My mother turned her gaze to him, but it was Sheraton who spoke. + +"It goes back to the old Articles of Federation, our first compact," he +said. "From the very first the makers of this country saw that by reason +of diverse industries the South was separated from the North. This +secession has been written in the sky from the beginning of the world." + +"Nay, brother Sheraton," broke in my mother eagerly "it was the union of +brothership that was written first in the sky." + +He turned to her with the bow of a gentleman. "It is you ladies who knit +the world together with kindness," he said. "Alas, that men must rend it +with fighting." + +"Alas!" whispered she. + +Sheraton's own face was sad as he went on with the old justification. +"Jefferson would turn over in his grave if he saw Virginia divided as it +is. Why, Cowles, we've all the world we need here. We can live alone +here, each on his own acres, a gentleman, and all he needs of government +is protection and fair laws. Calhoun was right. Better give us two +peaceful countries, each living happily and content, than one at war +with itself. Clay was a great man, but both he and Webster were fighting +against the inevitable." + +"That is true," interrupted Orme; "unquestionably true. Texas came near +becoming a colony of England because this country would not take her. +She declared for slavery, and had that right. The Spaniards had made +California a slave state, but the gold seekers by vote declared her +free. They had that right to govern themselves. As to the new lands +coming in, it is their right also to vote upon the question of slavery, +each new state for itself." + +"The war has already begun on the border," said my father. "My friend +and partner, Colonel Meriwether of Albemarle, who is with the Army in +the West, says that white men are killing white men all across the lands +west of the Missouri." + +"At least, Cowles," said Colonel Sheraton, pacing a short way apart, his +hands behind his back, "we can wait until after this election." + +"But if the Government takes action?" suggested Orme. + +Sheraton whirled quickly, "Then war! war!" he cried, "War till each +Virginian is dead on his doorstep, and each woman starved at her +fireside. John Cowles, you and I will fight--I _know_ that you will +fight." + +"Yes," said my father, "I will fight." + +"And with us!" + +"No," said my father, sighing; "no, my friend, against you!" I saw my +mother look at him and sink back in her chair. I saw Orme also gaze at +him sharply, with a peculiar look upon his face. + +But so, at least, this argument ended for the time. The two men, old +neighbors, took each other solemnly by the hand, and presently, after +talk of more pleasant sort on lesser matters, the servants brought our +carriage and we started back for Cowles' Farms. + +There had been no opportunity for me to mention to Colonel and Mrs. +Sheraton something that was upon my mind. I had small chance for +farewell to Miss Grace, and if I shall admit the truth, this pleased me +quite as well as not. + +We rode in silence for a time, my father musing, my mother silent also. +It was Orme who was the first I heard to speak. + +"By the way, Mr. Cowles," he said, "you spoke of Colonel Meriwether of +Albemarle County. Is he away in the West? It chances that I have letters +to him, and I was purposing going into that country before long." + +"Indeed, sir?" replied my father. "I am delighted to know that you are +to meet my friend. As it chances, he is my associate in a considerable +business enterprise--a splendid man, a splendid man, Meriwether. I will, +if you do not mind, add my letter to others you may have, and I trust +you will carry him our best wishes from this side of the mountains." + +That was like my father--innocent, unsuspicious, ever ready to accept +other men as worthy of his trust, and ever ready to help a stranger as +he might. For myself, I confess I was more suspicious. Something about +Orme set me on edge, I knew not what. I heard them speaking further +about Meriwether's being somewhere in the West, and heard Orme also say +carelessly that he must in any case run over to Albemarle and call upon +some men whom he was to meet at the University of Virginia. We did not +ask his errand, and none of us suspected the purpose of his systematic +visiting among the more influential centers of that country. But if you +will go now to that white-domed building planned by Thomas Jefferson at +Charlottesville, and read the names on the brazen tablets by the doors, +names of boys who left school there to enter a harder school, then you +will see the results of the visit there of Gordon Orme. + +My little personal affairs were at that time so close to me that they +obscured clear vision of larger ones. I did not hear all the talk in the +carriage, but pulled my horse in behind and so rode on moodily, gazing +out across the pleasant lands to the foot of old Catoctin and the dim +Blue Ridge. A sudden discontent assailed me. Must I live here +always--must I settle down and be simply a farmer forever? I wanted to +ride over there, over the Rock Fish Gap, where once King Charles' men +broke a bottle in honor of the king, and took possession of all the +lands west of the Pacific. The West--the word in some way thrilled in my +blood--I knew not why. I was a boy. I had not learned to question any +emotion, and introspection troubled me no more than it did my pointer +dog. + +Before we had separated at the door of our house, I motioned to my +mother, and we drew apart and seated ourselves beneath our own oaks in +the front yard of Cowles' Farms. Then I told her what had happened +between Miss Grace and myself, and asked her if she was pleased. + +"I am very content with thee," she answered, slowly, musingly. "Thee +must think of settling, Jack, and Miss Grace is a worthy girl. I hope it +will bring peace between our families always." I saw a film cross her +clear, dark eye. "Peace!" she whispered to herself. "I wish that it +might be." + +But peace was not in my heart. Leaving her presently, I once more swung +leg over saddle and rode off across our fields, as sad a lover as ever +closed the first day of his engagement to be wed. + + + + +CHAPTER VII + +WHAT COMETH IN THE NIGHT + + +When I rode up our lane in the dusk, I found my father and mother +sitting in the cool of the front gallery, and giving my rein to one of +our boys, I flung myself down on the steps near by, and now and again +joined in their conversation. + +I was much surprised to learn that our whilom guest, Gordon Orme, had +taken sudden departure during my absence, he having been summoned by a +messenger from the village, who he stated brought him word that he must +forthwith be on his way to Albemarle. He had asked my father if he cared +to sell the black horse, Satan, to which he had taken a fancy, but this +had been declined. Then it seems there had come up something of our late +meeting at the village, and Orme, laughing, had told of our horse +breaking and wrestling in a way which it seemed had not detracted from +my standing in my parents' eyes. None of us three was willing to +criticise our guest, yet I doubt if any one of us failed to entertain a +certain wonder, not to say suspicion, regarding him. At least he was +gone. + +Our talk now gradually resolved itself to one on business matters. I +ought to have said that my father was an ambitious man and one of wide +plans. I think that even then he foresaw the day when the +half-patriarchial life of our State would pass away before one of wider +horizons of commercial sort. He was anxious to hand down his family +fortune much increased, and foreseeing troublous times ahead as to the +institution of slavery in the South, he had of late been taking large +risks to assure success in spite of any change of times. Now, moved by +some strange reasons which he himself perhaps did not recognize, he +began for the first time, contrary to his usual reticence, to explain to +my mother and me something of these matters. He told us that in +connection with his friend, Colonel William Meriwether, of Albemarle, he +had invested heavily in coal lands in the western part of the State, in +what is now West Virginia. This requiring very large sums of money, he +for his part had encumbered not only the lands themselves, but these +lands of Cowles' Farms to secure the payment. The holder of these +mortgages was a banking firm in Fredericksburg. The interest was one +which in these times would be considered a cruel one, and indeed the +whole enterprise was one which required a sanguine courage, precisely as +his; for I have said that risk he always held as challenge and +invitation. + +"Does thee think that in these times thee should go so deeply in debt," +asked my mother of him. + +"Elizabeth," he said, "that is why I have gone in debt. Two years from +now, and the value of these lands here may have been cut in half. Ten +years from now the coal lands yonder will be worth ten times what they +are to-day." + +"John," she said to him suddenly, "sell those coal lands, or a part of +them." + +"Now, that I could not do," he answered, "for half their value. The +country now is fuller of war than of investment. But come peace, come +war, there lies a fortune for us all. For my share there remains but one +heavy payment; and to-morrow I ride to raise funds for that among our +tenants and elsewhere. I admit that my bankers are shrewd and severe--in +fact, I think they would rather see the payments forfeited than not. As +Meriwether is away, it is with me to attend to this business now." + +And so, with this prelude, I may as well tell without more delay what +evil fortune was in store for us. + +That coming day my father rode abroad as he had planned, taking black +Satan for his mount, since he needed to travel far. He had collected +from various sources, as his account book later showed, a sum of over +five thousand dollars, which he must have had in gold and negotiable +papers in his saddle-bags. During his return home, he came down the deep +trough road which ran in front of the Sheraton farms and ours. He passed +near to a certain clump of bushes at the roadside. And there that +happened which brought to a sudden end all the peace and comfort of our +lives, and which made me old before my time. + +I heard the horse Satan whinny at our lane gate, wildly, as though in +fright; and even as I went out my heart stopped with sudden fear. He had +leaped the gate at the lower end of the lane. His bridle rein was +broken, and caught at his feet as he moved about, throwing up his head +in fright as much as viciousness. I hastily looked at the saddle, but it +bore no mark of anything unusual. Not pausing to look farther, I caught +the broken reins in my hand, and sprung into the saddle, spurring the +horse down the lane and over the gate again, and back up the road which +I knew my father must have taken. + +There, at the side of the road, near the clump of blackberry vines and +sumac growth, lay my father, a long dark blot, motionless, awesome, as +I could see by the light of the moon, now just rising in a gap of the +distant mountains. I sprang down and ran to him, lifted his head, called +to him in a voice so hoarse I did not recognize it. I told him that it +was his son had come to him, and that he must speak. So at last, as +though by sheer will he had held on to this time, he turned his gray +face toward me, and as a dead man, spoke. + +"Tell your mother," he said; "Tell Meriwether--must protect--good-by." + +Then he said "Lizzie!" and opened wide his arms. + +Presently he said, "Jack, lay my head down, please." I did so. He was +dead, there in the moon. + +I straightened him, and put my coat across his face, and spurred back +down the road again and over the gate. But my mother already knew. She +met me at the hall, and her face was white. + +"Jack," she said, "I know!" + +Then the servants came, and we brought him home, and laid him in his own +great room, as the master of the house should lie when the end comes, +and arrayed him like the gentleman he was. + +Now came that old wire-hair, Doctor Bond, his mane standing stiff and +gray over a gray face, down which tears rolled the first time known of +any man. He sent my mother away and called me to him. And then he told +me that in my father's back were three or four pierced wounds, no doubt +received from the sharp stubs of underbrushes when he fell. But this, he +said, could hardly have been the cause of death. He admitted that the +matter seemed mysterious to him. + +Up to this time we had not thought of the cause of this disaster, nor +pondered upon motives, were it worse than accident. Now we began to +think. Doctor Bond felt in the pockets of my father's coat; and so for +the first time we found his account book and his wallets. Doctor Bond +and I at once went out and searched the saddle pockets my father had +carried. They were quite empty. + +All this, of course, proved nothing to us. The most that we could argue +was that the horse in some way had thrown his rider, and that the fall +had proved fatal; and that perhaps some wandering negro had committed +the theft. These conclusions were the next day bad for the horse Satan, +whom I whipped and spurred, and rode till he trembled, meting out to him +what had been given old Klingwalla, his sire, for another murdering deed +like this. In my brutal rage I hated all the world. Like the savage I +was, I must be avenged on something. I could not believe that my father +was gone, the man who had been my model, my friend, my companion all my +life. + +But in time we laid him away in the sunny little graveyard of the +Society of Friends, back of the little stone church at Wallingford. We +put a small, narrow, rough little slab of sandstone at his head, and cut +into it his name and the dates of his birth and death; this being all +that the simple manners of the Society of Friends thought fit. "His +temple is in my heart," said my mother; and from that day to her death +she offered tribute to him. + +Thus, I say, it was that I changed from a boy into a man. But not the +man my father had been. Life and business matters had hitherto been much +a sealed book for me. I was seized of consternation when a man came +riding over from the little Wallingford bank, asking attention to word +from Abrams & Halliday, bankers of Fredericksburg. I understood vaguely +of notes overdue, and somewhat of mortgages on our lands, our house, our +crops. I explained our present troubles and confusion; but the messenger +shook his head with a coldness on his face I had not been accustomed to +see worn by any at Cowles' Farms. Sweat stood on my face when I saw that +we owed over fifteen thousand dollars--a large sum in those simple +days--and that more would presently follow, remainder of a purchase +price of over a hundred thousand dollars for lands I had never seen. I +looked about me at the great house of Cowles' Farms, and a coldness came +upon my heart as I realized for the first time that perhaps this home +was not ours, but another's. Anger again possessed me at this thought, +and with small adieu I ordered the man from the place, and told him I +would horsewhip him if he lingered but a moment. Then, too late, I +thought of more business-like action, and of following the advice my +father had given me, at once to see his associate, Colonel Meriwether. +Thereafter I consulted my mother. + +In the chaotic state of affairs then existing, with the excitement of a +turbulent election approaching, it may be supposed that all commercial +matters were much unsettled. None knew what might be the condition of +the country after the fall elections; but all agreed that now was no +time to advance money upon any sort of credit. As to further pledges, +with a view to raising these sums now due, I found the matter hopeless. + +Colonel Sheraton might, perhaps, have aided us, but him I would not ask. +Before this time I had acquainted him of my intentions in regard to his +daughter; and now I went to him and placed the matter before him, +explaining to him the nature of our affairs and announcing my intention +to make a quick journey to the West, in order to obtain assistance from +Colonel Meriwether, of whom I hoped to find instant solution of the +financial problems, at least. It seemed wise for me to place before Miss +Grace's father the question of advisability of allowing her to remain +pledged to a man whose fortunes were in so sad a state. I asked him what +was right for me to do. His face was very grave as he pondered, but he +said, "If my girl's word has been passed, we will wait. We will wait, +sir." And that was all I knew when I made my hurried preparations for +the longest journey I had at that time ever known. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + +BEGINNING ADVENTURES IN NEW LANDS + + +In those days travel was not so easy as it is now. I went by carriage to +Washington, and thence by stage to the village of York in Pennsylvania, +and again by stage thence to Carlisle Barracks, a good road offering +thence into the western countries. In spite of all my grief I was a +young man, and I was conscious of a keen exhilaration in these my +earliest travels. I was to go toward that great West, which then was on +the tongue of all the South, and indeed all the East. I found +Pennsylvania old for a hundred years. The men of Western Pennsylvania, +Ohio and New York were passing westward in swarms like feeding pigeons. +Illinois and Iowa were filling up, and men from Kentucky were passing +north across the Ohio. The great rivers of the West were then leading +out their thousands of settlers. Presently I was to see those great +trains of white-topped west-bound wagons which at that time made a +distinguishing feature of American life. + +At this Army post, which then was used as a drilling ground for the +cavalry arm, one caught the full flavor of the Western lands, heard the +talk of officers who had been beyond the frontier, and saw troops +passing out for the Western service. Here I heard also, and to my +consternation, quiet conversation among some of the officers, regarding +affairs at our National capital. Buchanan, it seems, was shipping arms +and ordnance and supplies to all the posts in the South. Disaffection, +fomented by some secret, unknown cause, was spreading among the officers +of the Army. I was young; this was my first journey; yet none the less +these matters left my mind uneasy. I was eager to be back in Virginia, +for by every sign and token there certainly was trouble ahead for all +who dwelt near the Potomac. + +Next I went on to Harrisburg, and thence took rail up the beautiful +Susquehanna valley, deep into and over the mountains. At Pittsburg I, +poor provincial, learned that all this country too was very old, and +that adventures must be sought more than a thousand miles to the +westward, yet a continual stir and bustle existed at this river point. A +great military party was embarking here for the West--two companies of +dragoons, their officers and mounts. I managed to get passage on this +boat to Louisville, and thence to the city of St. Louis. Thus, finally, +we pushed in at the vast busy levee of this western military capital. + +At that time Jefferson Barracks made the central depot of Army +operations in the West. Here recruits and supplies were received and +readjusted to the needs of the scattered outposts in the Indian lands. +Still I was not in the West, for St. Louis also was old, almost as old +as our pleasant valley back in Virginia. I heard of lands still more +remote, a thousand miles still to the West, heard of great rivers +leading to the mountains, and of the vast, mysterious plains, of which +even yet men spoke in awe. Shall I admit it--in spite of grief and +trouble, my heart leaped at these thoughts. I wished nothing so much as +that I might properly and fitly join this eager, hurrying, keen-faced +throng of the west-bound Americans. It seemed to me I heard the voice of +youth and life beyond, and that youth was blotted out behind me in the +blue Virginia hills. + +I inquired for Colonel Meriwether about my hotel in the city, but was +unable to get definite word regarding his whereabouts, although the +impression was that he was somewhere in the farther West. This made it +necessary for me to ride at once to Jefferson Barracks. I had at least +one acquaintance there, Captain Martin Stevenson of the Sixth Cavalry, a +Maryland man whom we formerly met frequently when he was paying suit to +Kitty Dillingham, of the Shenandoah country. After their marriage they +had been stationed practically all of the time in Western posts. + +I made my compliments at Number 16 of Officers' Row, their present +quarters at Jefferson. I found Kitty quite as she had been in her youth +at home, as careless and wild, as disorderly and as full of +good-heartedness. Even my story, sad as it was, failed to trouble her +long, and as was her fashion, she set about comforting me, upon her +usual principle that, whatever threatened, it were best be blithe +to-day. + +"Come," she said, "we'll put you up with us, right here. Johnson, take +Mr. Cowles' things; and go down to the city at once for his bags." + +"But, my dear Mrs. Kitty," I protested, "I can't. I really must be +getting on. I'm here on business with Colonel Meriwether." + +"Never mind about Colonel Meriwether," rejoined my hostess, "we'll find +him later--he's up the river somewhere. Always take care of the +important things first. The most important thing in the whole world just +now is the officers' ball to-night. Don't you see them fixing up the +dancing platform on Parade? It's just as well the K.O.'s away, because +to-night the mice certainly are going to play." + +It seemed good to hear the voice of friends again, and I was nothing +loath to put aside business matters for the time and listen to Kitty +Stevenson's chatter. So, while I hesitated, Johnson had my hat and +stick. + +The city of St. Louis, I repeat, was then the richest and gayest capital +of the West, the center of the commercial and social life of West and +South alike. Some of the most beautiful women of the world dwelt there, +and never, I imagine, had belles bolder suitors than these who passed +through or tarried with the Army. What wonder the saying that no Army +man ever passed St. Louis without leaving a heart, or taking one with +him? What wonder that these gay young beauties emptied many an Army +pocket for flowers and gems, and only filled many an Army heart with +despondency in return? Sackcloth lay beyond, on the frontier. Ball +followed ball, one packed reception another. Dinings and sendings of +flowers, and evening love-makings--these for the time seemed the main +business of Jefferson Barracks. Social exemptions are always made for +Army men, ever more gallant than affluent, and St. Louis entertained +these gentlemen mightily with no expectation of equivalent; yet +occasionally the sons of Mars gave return entertainments to the limits, +or more than the limits, of their purses. The officers' balls at these +barracks were the envy of all the Army; and I doubt if any regimental +bands in the service had reason for more proficiency in waltz time. + +Of some of these things my hostess advised me as we sat, for the sake of +the shade, on the gallery of Number 16, where Stevenson's man of all +work had brought a glass-topped table and some glasses. Here Captain +Stevenson presently joined us, and after that escape was impossible. + +"Do you suppose Mr. Cowles is engaged?" asked Kitty of her husband +impersonally, and apropos of nothing that I could see. + +"I don't think so. He looks too deuced comfortable," drawled Stevenson. +I smiled. + +"If he isn't engaged he will be before morning," remarked Kitty, smiling +at me. + +"Indeed, and to whom, pray?" I inquired. + +"How should I know? Indeed, how should you know? Any one of a +dozen--first one you see--first one who sees you; because you are tall, +and can dance." + +"I hardly think I should dance." + +"Of course you will dance. If you refuse you will be put in irons and +taken out to-morrow and shot. It will do you no good to sit and think, +poor boy." + +"I have no clothes," I protested. + +"Johnson will have your boxes out in time. But you don't want your own +clothes. This is _bal masque_, of course, and you want some sort of +disguise, I think you'd look well in one of Matt's uniforms." + +"That's so," said Stevenson, "we're about of a size. Good disguise, too, +especially since you've never been here. They'll wonder who the new +officer is, and where he comes from. I say, Kitty, what an awfully good +joke it would be to put him up against two or three of those heartless +flirts you call your friends--Ellen, for instance." + +"There won't be a button left on the uniform by morning," said Kitty +contemplatively. "To-night the Army entertains." + +"And conquers," I suggested. + +"Sometimes. But at the officers' ball it mostly surrenders. The casualty +list, after one of these balls, is something awful. After all, Jack, all +these modern improvements in arms have not superceded the old bow and +arrow." She smiled at me with white teeth and lazy eyes. A handsome +woman, Kitty. + +"And who is that dangerous flirt you were talking about a moment ago?" I +asked her, interested in spite of myself. + +"I lose my mess number if I dare to tell. Oh, they'll all be here +to-night, both Army and civilians. There's Sadie Galloway of the Eighth, +and Toodie Devlin of Kentucky, and the Evans girl from up North, and +Mrs. Willie Weiland--" + +"And Mrs. Matthew Stevenson." + +"Yes, myself, of course; and then besides, Ellen." + +"Ellen who?" + +"Never mind. She is the most dangerous creature now at large in the +Western country. Avoid her! Pass not by her! She stalketh by night. +She'll get you sure, my son. She has a string of hearts at her will as +long as from here to the red barn." + +"I shall dance to-night," I said. "If you please, I will dance with her, +the first waltz." + +"Yes?" She raised her eyebrows. "You've a nice conceit, at least. But, +then, I don't like modest men." + +"Listen to that," chuckled Stevenson, "and yet she married me! But what +she says is true, Cowles. It will be worse than Chapultepec in the crowd +anywhere around Ellen to-night. You might lose a leg or an arm in the +crush, and if you got through, you'd only lose your heart. Better leave +her alone." + +"Lord, what a night it'll be for the ball," said Kitty, sweeping an idle +arm toward Parade, which was now filling up with strings of carriages +from the city. We could see men now putting down the dancing floor. The +sun was sinking. From somewhere came the faint sound of band music, +muffled behind the buildings. + +"Evening gun!" said Stevenson presently, and we arose and saluted as the +jet of smoke burst from a field piece and the roar of the report brought +the flag fluttering down. Then came strains of a regimental band, +breaking out into the national air; after which the music slid into a +hurrying medley, and presently closed in the sweet refrain of "Robin +Adair," crooning in brass and reeds as though miles away. Twilight began +to fall, and the lamps winked out here and there. The sound of wheels +and hoofs upon the gravel came more often. Here and there a bird +twittered gently in the trees along the walks; and after a time music +came again and again, for four bands now were stationed at the four +corners of the Parade. (And always the music began of war and deeds, and +always it ended in some soft love strain.) Groups gathered now upon the +balconies near the marquees which rose upon the Parade. Couples strolled +arm in arm. The scene spoke little enough of war's alarms or of life's +battles and its sadness. + +A carriage passed with two gentlemen, and drew up at the Officers' Club. +"Billy Williams, adjutant," commented Captain Stevenson lazily. "Who's +the other?" + +"Yes, who's the tall one?" asked Kitty, as the gentlemen descended from +the carriage. "Good figure, anyhow; wonder if he dances." + +"Coming over, I believe," said Stevenson, for now the two turned our +way. Stevenson rose to greet his fellow officer, and as the latter +approached our stoop, I caught a glance at his companion. + +It was Gordon Orme! + +Orme was as much surprised on his own part. After the presentations all +around he turned to me with Kitty Stevenson. "My dear Madam," he said, +"you have given me the great pleasure of meeting again my shadow, Mr. +Cowles, of Virginia. There is where I supposed him now, back home in +Virginia." + +"I should expect to meet Mr. Orme if I landed on the moon," I replied. + +"Er--Captain Orme," murmured Adjutant Williams to me gently. + +So then my preacher had turned captain since I saw him last! + +"You see, Stevenson," went on Williams easily, "Captain Orme was +formerly with the British Army. He is traveling in this country for a +little sport, but the old ways hang to him. He brings letters to our +Colonel, who's off up river, and meantime. I'm trying to show him what I +can of our service." + +"So good of you to bring Captain Orme here, Major. I'm sure he will join +us to-night?" Kitty motioned toward the dancing pavilion, now well under +way. Orme smiled and bowed, and declared himself most happy. Thus in a +few moments he was of our party. I could not avoid the feeling that it +was some strange fate which continually brought us two together. + +"The Army's rotten for want of service," grumbled Williams, following +out his own pet hobby. "Nothing in the world to do for our fellows here. +Sport? Why, Captain Orme, we couldn't show you a horse race where I'd +advise you to bet a dollar. The fishing doesn't carry, and the shooting +is pretty much gone, even if it were the season. Outside of a pigeon +match or so, this Post is stagnant. We dance, and that's all. Bah!" + +"Why, Major, you old ingrate," reproved Kitty Stevenson. "If you talk +that way we'll not let you on the floor to-night." + +"You spoke of pigeon shooting," said Orme lazily, "Blue rocks, I +imagine?" + +"No," said Williams, "Natives--we use the wild birds. Thousands of them +around here, you know. Ever do anything at it?" + +"Not in this country," replied Orme. "Sometimes I have taken on a match +at Hurlingham; and we found the Egyptian pigeons around Cairo not bad." + +"Would you like to have a little match at our birds?" + +"I shouldn't mind." + +"Oh, you'll be welcome! We'll take your money away from you. There is +Bardine--or say, Major Westover. Haskins of the Sixth got eighty-five +out of his last hundred. Once he made it ninety-two, but that's above +average, of course." + +"You interest me," said Orme, still lazily. "For the honor of my country +I shouldn't mind a go with one of your gentlemen. Make it at a hundred, +for what wagers you like." + +"And when?" + +"To-morrow afternoon, if you say; I'm not stopping long, I am afraid. +I'm off up river soon." + +"Let's see," mused Williams. "Haskins is away, and I doubt if Westover +could come, for he's Officer of the Day, also bottle-washer. And--" + +"How about my friend Mr. Cowles?" asked Orme. "My acquaintance with him +makes me think he'd take on any sort of sporting proposition. Do you +shoot, sir?" + +"All Virginians do," I answered. And so I did in the field, although I +had never shot or seen a pigeon match in all my life. + +"Precisely. Mrs. Stevenson, will you allow this sort of talk?" + +"Go on, go on," said Kitty. "I'll have something up myself on Mr. +Cowles." ("Don't let him scare you, Jack," she whispered to me aside.) + +That was a foolish speech of hers, and a foolish act of mine. But for my +part, I continually found myself doing things I should not do. + +Orme passed his cigarette case. "In view of my possibly greater +experience," he said, "I'd allow Mr. Cowles six in the hundred." + +"I am not looking for matches," said I, my blood kindling at his +accustomed insolence; "but if I shot it would be both men at scratch." + +"Oh, very well," smiled Orme. "And should we make a little wager about +it--I ask your consent, Mrs. Stevenson?" + +"America forever!" said Kitty. + +What could I do after that? But all at once I thought of my scanty purse +and of the many troubles that beset me, and the strange unfitness in one +of my present situation engaging in any such talk. In spite of that, my +stubborn blood had its way as usual. + +"My war chest is light," I answered, "as I am farther away from home +than I had planned. But you know my black horse, Mr. Orme, that you +fancied?" + +"Oh, by Jove! I'll stake you anything you like against him--a thousand +pounds, if you like." + +"The odds must be even," I said, "and the only question is as to the +worth of the horse. That you may not think I overvalue him, however, +make it half that sum, or less, if these gentlemen think the horse has +not that value." + +"A son of old Klingwalla is worth three times that," insisted Orme. "If +you don't mind, and care to close it, we'll shoot to-morrow, if Major +Williams will arrange it." + +"Certainly," said that gentleman. + +"Very well," I said. + +"And we will be so discourteous to the stranger within our gates," said +the vivacious Kitty, "as to give you a jolly good beating, Captain Orme. +We'll turn out the Post to see the match. But now we must be making +ready for the serious matters of the evening. Mr. Orme, you dance, of +course. Are you a married man--but what a question for me to ask--of +course you're not!" + +Orme smiled, showing his long, narrow teeth. "I've been a bit busy for +that," he said; "but perhaps my time has come." + +"It surely has," said Kitty Stevenson. "I've offered to wager Mr. Cowles +anything he liked that he'd be engaged before twelve o'clock. Look, +isn't it nicely done?" + +We now turned toward the big square of the Parade, which had by this +time wholly been taken over for the purposes of military occupation. A +vast canopy covered the dancing floor. Innumerable tents for +refreshments and wide flapped marquees with chairs were springing up, +men were placing the decorations of flags, and roping about the dancing +floor with braided ribbons and post rosettes. Throngs now filled the +open spaces, and more carriages continually came. The quarters of every +officer by this time were packed, and a babel of chatter came from every +balcony party. Now and again breathed the soft music from the distant +military bands. It was a gay scene, one for youth and life, and not for +melancholy. + +"Now, I wonder who is this Ellen?" mused I to myself. + +[Illustration: GORDON ORME LAUGHS AT ELLEN'S ACCUSATION OF HIS +TREACHERY] + + + + +CHAPTER IX + +THE GIRL WITH THE HEART + + +Captain Stevenson left us soon after dinner, he being one of the +officers' committee on preparations for the ball, so that I spent a +little time alone at his quarters, Orme and Major Williams having gone +over to the Officers' Club at the conclusion of their call. I was +aroused from the brown study into which I had fallen by the sound of a +loud voice at the rear of Number 16, and presently heard also Kitty's +summons for me to come. I found her undertaking to remove from the hands +of Annie, her ponderous black cook, a musket which the latter was +attempting to rest over the window sill of the kitchen. + +"Thar he goes now, the brack rascal!" cried Annie, down whose sable +countenance large tears were coursing. "Lemme get one good shot at him. +I can shore hit him that clost." + +"Be silent! Annie," commanded Kitty, "and give me this gun. If I hear of +your shooting at Benjie any more I'll certainly discharge you. + +"You see," explained Kitty to me, "Annie used to be married to Benjie +Martin, who works for Colonel Meriwether, at the house just beyond the +trees there." + +"I'se married to him _yit_," said Annie, between sobs. "Heap more'n that +taller-faced yaller girl he done taken up with now." + +"I think myself," said Kitty, judicially, "that Benjie might at least +bow to his former wife when he passes by." + +"That'd be all I _wanted_," said Annie; "but I kaint stand them horty +ways. Why, I mended the very shirt he's got on his back right now; and I +_bought_ them shoes fer him." + +"Annie's _such_ a poor shot!" explained Kitty. "She has taken a pot-shot +at Benjie I don't know how many times, but she always misses. Colonel +Meriwether sent a file down to see what was going on, the first time, +but when I explained it was my cook, he said it was all right, and that +if she missed Benjie it harmed no one, and if she happened to kill him +it would be only what he deserved. Annie's the best cook in the Army, +and the Colonel knows it. Aren't you, Annie?" + +"Ef I could only shoot as good as I ken cook," remarked Annie, "it would +be a powerful sight o' res' to my soul. I shorely will git that nigger +yet." + +"Of course you will," said Kitty. "Just wait till to-morrow morning, +Annie, and when he starts around in the yard, you take a rest over the +window sill. You see," she resumed to me, "we try to do everything in +the world to keep our servants happy and comfortable, Mr. Cowles. + +"But now, as to you, sir, it is time you were getting ready for the +serious business of the evening. Go into Matt's room, there, and Johnson +will bring you your disguise." + +So finally I got into Captain Stevenson's uniform, which I did not +dislike, although the coat was a trifle tight across the back. At the +domino mask they fetched I hesitated, for anything like mummery of this +sort was always repugnant to me. Not to comply with the order of the +day, however, would now have made me seem rather churlish, so presently, +although with mental reservations, I placed myself in the hands of my +hostess, who joined me in full ball costume, mask and all. + +"You may know me," said Kitty, "by the pink flowers on my gown. They're +printed on the silk, I suspect. When Matt and I are a major, we'll have +them hand embroidered; but a captain's pay day doesn't come half often +enough for real hand embroidery." + +"I should know you anywhere, Mrs. Kitty," I said. "But now as to this +Ellen? How shall I know _her_?" + +"You will not know her at all." + +"Couldn't you tell me something of how she will look?" + +"No, I've not the slightest idea. Ellen doesn't repeat herself. There'll +be a row of a dozen beauties, the most dangerous girls in all St. Louis. +You shall meet them all, and have your guess as to which is Ellen." + +"And shall I never know, in all the world?" + +"Never in all the world. But grieve not. To-night joy is to be +unconfined, and there is no to-morrow." + +"And one may make mad love to any?" + +"To any whom one madly loves, of course; not to twelve at once. But we +must go. See, isn't it fine?" + +Indeed the scene on Parade was now gayer than ever. Laughter and chatter +came from the crowded galleries all about the square, whose houses +seemed literally full to overflowing. Music mingled with the sound of +merry voices, and forsooth now and again we heard the faint popping of +corks along Officers' Row. The Army entertained. + +At once, from somewhere on Parade, there came the clear note of a bugle, +which seemed to draw the attention of all. We could see, ascending the +great flagstaff at the end of its halyard, the broad folds of the flag. +Following this was hoisted a hoop or rim of torches, which paused in +such position that the folds of the flag were well illuminated. A +moment of silence came at that, and then a clapping of hands from all +about the Parade as the banner floated out, and the voices of men, deep +throated, greeting the flag. Again the bands broke into the strains of +the national anthem; but immediately they swung into a rollicking +cavalry air. As they played, all four of the bands marched toward the +center of the Parade, and halted at the dancing pavilion, where the +lighter instruments selected for the orchestra took their places at the +head of the floor. + +The throngs at the galleries began to lessen, and from every available +roof of the Post there poured out incredible numbers of gayly-dressed +ladies and men in uniform or evening garb, each one masked, and all +given over fully to the spirit of the hour. + +"To-night," said Kitty to me, "one may be faithless, and be shriven by +the morning sun. Isn't it funny how these things go? Such a lot of fuss +is made in the world by ignoring the great fact that man is by nature +both gregarious and polygamous. Believe me, there is much in this +doctrine of the Mormons, out there in the West!" + +"Yes, look at Benjie, for instance," I answered. "It is the spell of new +faces." + +"You see a face on the street, in the church, passing you, to be gone +the next instant forever," she mused. "Once I did myself. I was mad to +follow the man. I saw him again, and was yet madder. I saw him yet +again, and made love to him madly, and then--" + +"You married him," said I, knowing perfectly well the devotion of these +two. + +"Yes," said Mrs. Kitty, sighing contentedly, "it was Matt, of course. +There's something in that 'Whom God hath joined together.' But it ought +to be God, and not man, that does the joining." + +"Suppose we talk philosophy rather than dance." + +"Not I! We are here to-night to be young. After all, Jack, you are +young, and so is--" + +"Ellen?" + +"Yes, and so is Ellen." + +The floor now was beginning to fill with dancers. There moved before us +a kaleidoscope of gay colors, over which breathed the fragrance of soft +music. A subtle charm emanated from these surroundings. Music, the sight +and odor of sweet flowers, the sound of pleasant waters, the presence of +things beautiful--these have ever had their effect on me. So now I felt +come upon me a sort of soft content, and I was no longer moved to talk +philosophy. + +Sighing, I said to myself that I was young. I turned to speak to my +hostess, but she was gone on business of her own. So there I stood for +half an hour, biting my thumb. I had as yet seen nothing of the +mysterious Ellen, although many a score of eyes, in license of the +carnival, had flashed through their masks at me, and many others as +their owners passed by in the dance or promenade near where I stood. +Presently I felt a tug at my sleeve. + +"Come with me," whispered a voice. + +It was Kitty. We passed to the opposite side of the dancing floor, and +halted at the front of a wide marquee, whose flaps were spread to cover +a long row of seats. + +"Count them," whispered Kitty hoarsely. "There are twelve!" + +And so indeed there were, twelve beautiful young girls, as one might +pronounce, even though all were masked with half-face dominos. Half of +them were dressed in white and half in black, and thus they alternated +down the row. Twelve hands handled divers fans. Twelve pairs of eyes +looked out, eyes merry, or challenging, or mysterious, one could not +tell. About these young belles gathered the densest throng of all the +crowd. Some gentlemen appeared to know certain of the beauties, but +these had hard work to keep their places, for continually others came, +and one after another was introduced in turn, all down the line, as +presently it was to be my fortune to be. + +"Is she here, Mrs. Kitty?" I whispered. + +"You shall guess. Come." And so, as occasion offered, I was put through +this ordeal, by no means an easy one. At each fair charmer, as I bowed, +I looked with what directness I dared, to see if I might penetrate the +mask and so foil Kitty in her amiable intentions. This occupation caused +me promptly to forget most of the names which I heard, and which I doubt +not were all fictitious. As we passed out at the foot of the row I +recalled that I had not heard the name of Ellen. + +"Now then, which one is she?" I queried of my hostess. + +"Silly, do you want me to put your hand in hers? You are now on your own +resources. Play the game." And the next moment she again was gone. + +I had opportunity, without rudeness, the crowd so pressing in behind me, +to glance once more up the line. I saw, or thought I saw, just a chance +glance toward where I stood, near the foot of the Row of Mystery, as +they called it. I looked a second time, and then all doubt whatever +vanished. + +If this girl in the black laces, with the gold comb in her hair, and the +gold-shot little shoes just showing at the edge of her gown, and the +red rose at her hair, held down by the comb--half hidden by the pile of +locks caught up by the ribbon of the mask--if this girl were not the +mysterious Ellen, then indeed must Ellen look well to her laurels, for +here, indeed, was a rival for her! + +I began to edge through the ranks of young men who gathered there, +laughing, beseeching, imploring, claiming. The sparkle of the scene was +in my veins. The breath of the human herd assembled, sex and sex, each +challenging the other, gregarious, polygamous. + +I did not walk; the music carried me before her. And so I bowed and +murmured, "I have waited hours for my hostess to present me to Miss +Ellen." (I mumbled the rest of some imaginary name, since I had heard +none.) + +The girl pressed the tip of her fan against her teeth and looked at me +meditatively. + +"And ours, of course, is _this_ dance," I went on. + +"If I could only remember all the names--" she began hesitatingly. + +"I was introduced as Jack C., of Virginia." + +"Yes? And in what arm?" + +"Cavalry," I replied promptly. "Do you not see the yellow?" I gestured +toward the facings. "You who belong to the Army ought to know." + +"Why do you think I belong to the Army?" she asked, in a voice whose low +sweetness was enough to impel any man to catch the mask from her face +and throw it down the nearest well. + +"You belong to the Army, and to Virginia," I said, "because you asked me +what is my arm of the service; and because your voice could come from +nowhere but Virginia. Now since I have come so far to see you and have +found you out so soon, why do you not confess that you are Miss Ellen? +Tell me your name, so that I may not be awkward!" + +"We have no names to-night," she answered. "But I was just thinking; +there is no Jack C. in the _Gazette_ who comes from Virginia and who +wears a captain's straps. I do not know who you are." + +"At least the game then is fair," said I, disappointed. "But I promise +you that some time I shall see you face to face, and without masks. +To-morrow--" + +"Tut, tut!" she reproved. "There is no to-morrow!" + +I looked down on her as I stood, and a certain madness of youth seized +hold upon me. I knew that when she rose she would be just tall enough; +that she would be round, full, perfect woman in every line of her +figure; that her hair would be some sort of dark brown in the daylight; +that her eyes would also be of some sort of darkness, I knew not what, +for I could not see them fully through the domino. I could see the hair +piled back from the nape of as lovely a neck as ever caught a kiss. I +could see at the edge of the mask that her ear was small and close to +the head; could see that her nose must be straight, and that it sprang +from the brow strongly, with no weak indentation. The sweep of a strong, +clean chin was not to be disguised, and at the edge of the mask I caught +now and then the gleam of white, even teeth, and the mocking smile of +red, strongly curved lips, hid by her fan at the very moment when I was +about to fix them in my memory, so that I might see them again and know. +I suspect she hid a smile, but her eyes looked up at me grandly and +darkly. Nineteen, perhaps twenty, I considered her age to be; gentle, +and yet strong, with character and yet with tenderness, I made estimate +that she must be; and that she had more brains than to be merely a lay +figure I held sure, because there was something, that indefinable +magnetism, what you like to call it, which is not to be denied, which +assured me that here indeed was a woman not lightly to accept, nor +lightly to be forgotten. Ah, now I was seized and swept on in a swift +madness. Still the music sang on. + +"My hostess said it would be a lottery to-night in this Row of Mystery," +I went on, "but I do not find it so." + +"All life is lottery," she said in answer. + +"And lotteries are lawful when one wins the capital prize. One stretches +out his hand in the dark. But some one must win. I win now. The game of +masks is a fine one. I am vastly pleased with it. Some day I shall see +you without any mask. Come. We must dance. I could talk better if we +were more alone." + +As I live, she rose and put her hand upon my arm with no further +argument; why, I cannot say, perhaps because I had allowed no other man +to stand thus near her. + +We stepped out upon the crowded floor. I was swept away by it all, by +the waltz, by the stars above, by the moon, by the breath of women and +the scent of their hair, and the perfume of roses, by the passion of +living, by youth, youth! Ah, God! ah, God!--I say to you, it was sweet. +Whatever life brings to us of age and sorrow, let us remember our youth, +and say it was worth the while. Had I never lived but that one night, it +had been worth while. + +She danced as she stood, with the grace of a perfect young creature, and +the ease of a perfect culture as well. I was of no mind to look further. +If this was not Ellen, then there was no Ellen there for me! + +Around and around we passed, borne on the limpid shining stream of the +waltz music, as melancholy as it was joyous; music that was young; for +youth is ever full of melancholy and wonder and mystery. We danced. Now +and again I saw her little feet peep out. I felt her weight rest light +against my arm. I caught the indescribable fragrance of her hair. A gem +in the gold comb now and then flashed out; and now and again I saw her +eyes half raised, less often now, as though the music made her dream. +But yet I could have sworn I saw a dimple in her cheek through the mask, +and a smile of mockery on her lips. + +I have said that her gown was dark, black laces draping over a close +fitted under bodice; and there was no relief to this somberness +excepting that in the front of the bodice were many folds of lacy lawn, +falling in many sheer pleats, edge to edge, gathered at the waist by a +girdle confined by a simple buckle of gold. Now as I danced, myself +absorbed so fully that I sought little analysis of impressions so +pleasing, I became conscious dimly of a faint outline of some figure in +color, deep in these folds of lacy lawn, an evanescent spot or blur of +red, which, to my imagination, assumed the outline of a veritable heart, +as though indeed the girl's heart quite shone through! If this were a +trick I could not say, but for a long time I resisted it. Meantime, as +chance offered in the dance--to which she resigned herself utterly--I +went on with such foolish words as men employ. + +"Ah, nonsense!" she flashed back at me at last. "Discover something new. +If men but knew how utterly transparent they are! I say that to-night we +girls are but spirits, to be forgot to-morrow. Do not teach us to forget +before to-morrow comes." + +"I shall not forget," I insisted. + +"Then so much the worse." + +"I cannot." + +"But you must." + +"I will not. I shall not allow--" + +"How obstinate a brute a man can be," she remonstrated. + +"If you are not nice I shall go at once." + +"I dreamed I saw a red heart," said I. "But that cannot have been, for I +see you have no heart." + +"No," she laughed. "It was only a dream." + +"To-night, then, we only dream." + +She was silent at this. "I knew you from the very first," I reiterated. + +"What, has Kitty talked?" + +It was my turn to laugh. "Ah, ha!" I said. "I thought no names were to +be mentioned! At least, if Kitty has talked, I shall not betray her. But +I knew you directly, as the most beautiful girl in all the city. Kitty +said that much." + +"Oh, thank thee, kind sir!" + +"Then you knew I was a Quaker? Kitty has talked again? I had forgotten +it to-night, and indeed forgotten that Quakers do not dance. I said I +ought not to come here to-night, but now I see Fate said I must. I would +not have lived all my life otherwise. To-night I hardly know who I am." + +"Officer and gentleman," she smiled. + +The chance compliment came to me like a blow. I was not an officer. I +was masking, mumming, I, John Cowles, who had no right. Once more, +whither was my folly carrying me? Suddenly I felt saddened. + +"I shall call you The Sorrowful Knight," chided my fair companion." + +"Quite as well as any name, my very good friend." + +"I am not your friend." + +"No, and indeed, perhaps, never may be." + +Her spirit caught the chill of this, and at once she motioned the edge +of the floor. + +"Now I must go," she said. "There are very many to whom I am promised." +I looked at her and could very well believe the truth of that. Many +things revolved in my mind. I wondered whether if after all Kitty had +had her way; wondered if this was the mysterious Ellen, and if after all +she had also had her way! Ah, I had fallen easily! + +"Sir Sorrowful," she said, "take me back." She extended a little hand +and a round arm, whose beauty I could fully catch. The long +mousquetaires of later days were then not known, but her hands stood +perfectly the trying test of white kids that ended short at the wrist. + +Reluctantly I moved away with her from the merry throng upon the +pavilion floor. At the edge of the better lighted circle she paused for +a moment, standing straight and drawing a full, deep breath. If that +were coquetry it was perfect. I swear that now I caught the full outline +of a red, red heart upon her corsage! + +"Mademoiselle," I said, as I left her, "you are Ellen, and you have a +heart! At half past ten I shall come again. Some day I shall take away +your mask and your heart." + +"Oh, thank thee!" she mocked again. + +At half past ten I had kept my word, and I stood once more at the Row of +Mystery. The chairs were vacant, for the blue coats had wrought havoc +there! A little apart sat a blonde beauty of petite figure, who talked +in a deep contralto voice, astonishing for one so slight, with a young +lieutenant who leaned close to her. I selected her for Tudie Devlin of +Kentucky. She whom I fancied to be the "Evans girl from up North," was +just promenading away with a young man in evening dress. A brunette whom +I imagined to be Sadie Galloway of the Ninth was leaning on the back of +a chair and conversing with a man whom I could not see, hidden in the +shade of a tent fold. I looked behind me and saw a row of disgruntled +gentlemen, nervously pacing up and down. At least there were others +disappointed! + +I searched the dancing floor and presently wished I had not done so. I +saw her once more--dancing with a tall, slender man in uniform. At least +he offered no disguise to me. In my heart I resented seeing him wear the +blue of our government. And certainly it gave me some pang to which I +was not entitled, which I did not stop to analyze, some feeling of +wretchedness, to see this girl dancing with none less than Gordon Orme, +minister of the Gospel, captain of the English Army, and what other +inconsistent things I knew not! + +"Buck up, Jack," I heard a voice at my side. "Did she run away from +you?" + +I feigned ignorance to Kitty. "They are all alike," said I, +indifferently. "All dressed alike--" + +"And I doubt not all acted alike." + +"I saw but one," I admitted, "the one with a red heart on her corsage." + +Kitty laughed a merry peal. "There were twelve red hearts," she said. +"All there, and all offered to any who might take them. Silly, silly! +Now, I wonder if indeed you did meet Ellen? Come, I'll introduce you to +a hundred more, the nicest girls you ever saw." + +"Then it was Ellen?" + +"How should I know? I did not see you. I was too busy flirting with my +husband--for after awhile I found that it was Matt, of course! It seems +some sort of fate that I never see a handsome man who doesn't turn out +to be Matt." + +"I must have one more dance," I said. + +"Then select some other partner. It is too late to find Ellen now, or to +get a word with her if we did. The last I saw of her she was simply +persecuted by Larry Belknap of the Ninth Dragoons--all the Army knows +that he's awfully gone over Ellen." + +"But we'll find her somewhere--" + +"No, Jack, you'd better banish Ellen, and all the rest. Take my advice +and run over home and go to bed. You forget you've the match on for +to-morrow; and I must say, not wanting to disturb you in the least, I +believe you're going to need all your nerve. There's Scotch on the +sideboard, but don't drink champagne." + +The scene had lost interest to me. The lights had paled, the music was +less sweet. + +Presently I strolled over to Number 16 and got Johnson to show me my +little room. But I did very little at the business of sleeping; and when +at last I slept I saw a long row of figures in alternate black and +white; and of these one wore a red rose and a gold comb with a jewel in +it, and her hair was very fragrant. I did not see Grace Sheraton in my +dreams. Clearly I reasoned it out to myself as I lay awake, that if I +had seen Ellen once, then indeed it were best for me I should never see +Ellen again! + + + + +CHAPTER X + +THE SUPREME COURT + + +If remorse, mental or physical, affected any of the dwellers at +Jefferson Barracks on the morning following the officers' ball, at least +neither was in evidence. By noon all traces of the late festivities had +been removed from the parade ground, and the routine of the Post went on +with the usual mechanical precision. The Army had entertained, it now +labored. In a few hours it would again be ready to be entertained; the +next little event of interest being the pigeon match between Orme and +myself, which swift rumor seemed to have magnified into an importance +not wholly welcome to myself. + +We had a late breakfast at Number 16, and my friend Stevenson, who was +to handle me in the match, saw to it that I had a hard tubbing before +breakfast and a good run afterward, and later a hearty luncheon with no +heavy wines. I was surprised at these business-like proceedings, which +were all new to me, and I reflected with no satisfaction that my +hot-headedness in accepting Orme's challenge might result in no glory to +myself, and worse than that, let in my friends for loss; for Stevenson +informed me that in spite of the fact that I had never shot in a race, a +number of wagers were backing me against the Englishman. I reasoned, +however, that these responsibilities should not be considered by one who +needed perfect command of himself. Moreover, although I had never shot +at trapped birds, I reasoned that a bird in the air was a flying bird +after all, whether from trap or tree. Then, again, I was offended at +Orme's air of superiority. Lastly, though it might be the fault of the +Cowles' blood to accept any sort of challenge, it was not our way to +regret that so soon as the day following. + +The grounds for the match had been arranged at the usual place, near to +the edge of the military reservation, and here, a half hour before the +time set, there began to gather practically all of the young officers +about the Post, all the enlisted men who could get leave, with cooks, +strikers, laundresses, and other scattered personnel of the barracks. +There came as well many civilians from the city, and I was surprised to +see a line of carriages, with many ladies, drawn up back of the score. +Evidently our little matter was to be made a semi-fashionable affair, +and used as another expedient to while away ennui-ridden Army time. + +My opponent, accompanied by Major Williams, arrived at about the same +time that our party reached the grounds. Orme shook hands with me, and +declared that he was feeling well, although Williams laughingly +announced that he had not been able to make his man go to bed for more +than an hour that morning, or to keep him from eating and drinking +everything he could lay his hands upon. Yet now his eye was bright, his +skin firm, his step light and easy. That the man had a superb +constitution was evident, and I knew that my work was cut out for me, +for Orme, whatever his profession, was an old one at the game of speedy +going. As a man I disliked and now suspected him. As an opponent at any +game one was obliged to take account of him. + +"What boundary do we use, gentlemen?" Orme asked, as he looked out over +the field. This question showed his acquaintance, but none the less his +confidence and his courtesy as well, for in closely made matches all +details are carefully weighed before the issue is joined. "I am more +used to the Monaco bounds of eighteen yards," he added, "but whatever is +your custom here will please me. I only want to have a notion of your +sport." + +"Our races here have usually been shot at fifty yards bounds," said +Stevenson. + +"As you like," said Orme, "if that pleases Mr. Cowles." + +"Perfectly," said I, who indeed knew little about the matter. + +Orme stepped over to the coops where the birds were kept--splendid, +iridescent creatures, with long tails, clean, gamy heads and all the +colors of the rainbow on their breasts. "By Jove!" he said, "they're +rippers for looks, and they should fly a bit, I'm thinking. I have never +seen them before, much less shot a race at them." + +"Still your advantage," said I, laughing, "for I never shot a race at +any sort in my life." + +"And yet you match against me? My dear fellow, I hardly like--" + +"The match is made, Captain Orme, and I am sure Mr. Cowles would not ask +for any readjustment," commented Stevenson stiffly. + +"Don't understand me to wish to urge anything," said Orme. "I only wish +it so we shall all have a chance at revenge. Is there any one who wishes +to back me, perhaps, or to back Mr. Cowles? Sometimes in England we +shoot at a guinea a bird or five, or ten." Stevenson shook his head. +"Too gaited for me at this time of the month," he said; "but I'll lay +you a hundred dollars on the issue." + +"Five if you like, on the Virginian, sir," said young Belknap of the +Ninth to Orme. + +"Done, and done, gentlemen. Let it be dollars and not guineas if you +like. Would any one else like to lay a little something? You see, I'm a +stranger here, but I wish to do what will make it interesting for any of +you who care to wager something." + +A few more wagers were laid, and the civilian element began to plunge a +bit on Orme, word having passed that he was an old hand at the game, +whereas I was but a novice. Orme took some of these wagers carelessly. + +"Now as to our referee, Captain," said Stevenson. "You are, as you say, +something of a stranger among us, and we wish your acquaintance were +greater, so that you might name some one who would suit you." + +"I'm indifferent," said Orme politely. "Any one Mr. Cowles may name will +please me." + +His conduct was handsome throughout, and his sporting attitude made him +many friends among us. I suspect some Army money went on him, quietly, +although little betting was now done in our presence. + +"I see Judge Reeves, of the Supreme Court of the State, over there in a +carriage," suggested Major Williams. "I've very much a notion to go and +ask him to act as our referee." + +"God bless my soul!" said Orme, "this is an extraordinary country! +What--a judge of the Supreme Court?" + +Williams laughed. "You don't know this country, Captain, and you don't +know Judge Reeves. He's a trifle old, but game as a fighting cock, and +not to mention a few duels in his time, he knows more even about guns +and dogs to-day than he does about law. He'll not be offended if I ask +him, and here goes." + +He edged off through the crowd, and we saw him engaged in earnest +conversation with the judge. To our surprise and amusement we observed +the judge climb hastily down out of his carriage and take Major +Williams' arm. + +Judge Reeves was a tall, thin man, whose long hair and beard were +silvery white, yet his stature was erect and vigorous. It was always +said of him that he was the most dignified man in the State of Missouri, +and that he carried this formality into every detail of his daily life. +The story ran that each night, when he and his aged consort retired, +they stood, each with candle in hand, on either side of the great bed +which all their married life they had occupied in harmony. She, formally +bowing to him across the bed, said "Good-night, Judge Reeves"; whereat +he, bowing with yet greater formality, replied, "Good-night, Mrs. +Reeves." Each then blew out the candle, and so retired! I cannot vouch +as to the truth of this story, or of the further report that they +carried out their ceremony when seating themselves at table, each meal +of the day; but I will say that the appearance of this gentleman would +have given such stories likelihood. + +We uncovered as the judge approached us, and he shook hands with us in +the most solemn way, his own wide black hat in his hand. "A--a--hem, +gentlemen," he said, "a somewhat unusual situation for one on the +bench--most unusual, I may say. But the Court can see no harm in it, +since no law of the land is violated. Neither does the Court hold it +beneath the dignity of its office to witness this little trial of skill +between gentlemen. Further speaking, the Court does not here pass upon +questions of law, but sits rather as jury in matters of ocular evidence, +with the simple duty of determining whether certain flying objects fall +upon this or the other side of that certain line marked out as the +boundaries. Gentlemen, I am, a--hem, yours with great pleasure." If +there was a twinkle in his eye it was a very solemn one. I venture to +say he would have lost no votes at the next election were he up for +office. + +"Is the case ready for argument?" presently asked the judge, benignly. +Williams and Stevenson both replied "All ready." + +"I suggest that the gentlemen place their ammunition and loading tools +upon the head of the cask at my right," said the judge. "I presume it to +be understood that each may employ such charge as he prefers, and that +each shall load his own piece?" The seconds assented to this. Of course, +in those days only muzzle loaders were used, although we had cut-felt +wads and all the improvements in gunnery known at that time. My weapon +was supplied me by Captain Stevenson--a good Manton, somewhat battered +up from much use, but of excellent even pattern. Orme shot a Pope-made +gun of London, with the customary straight hand and slight drop of the +English makes. I think he had brought this with him on his travels. + +"Shall the firing be with the single barrel, or with both barrels?" +inquired our referee. In those days many American matches were shot from +plunge traps, and with the single barrel. + +"I'm more used to the use of both barrels," suggested Orme, "but I do +not insist." + +"It is the same to me," I said. So finally we decided that the rise +should be at twenty-eight yards, the use of both barrels allowed, and +the boundary at fifty yards--such rules as came to be later more +generally accepted in this country. + +"Gentlemen, I suggest that you agree each bird to be gathered fairly by +the hand, each of you to select a gatherer. Each gentleman may +remunerate his gatherer, but the said remuneration shall in each case +remain the same. Is that satisfactory?" We agreed, and each tossed a +silver dollar to a grinning darky boy. + +"Now, then, gentlemen, the Court is informed that this match is to be +for the sum of twenty-five hundred dollars, wagered by Captain Orme, +against a certain black stallion horse, the same not introduced in +evidence, but stated by Mr. Cowles to be of the value of twenty-five +hundred dollars in the open market. As the match is stated to be on even +terms, the said John Cowles guarantees this certain horse to be of such +value, or agrees to make good any deficit in that value. Is that +understood, gentlemen?" + +"I did not ask any guarantee," said Orme. "I know the horse, and he is +worth more than twice that sum. You are using me very handsomely, +gentlemen." + +"Judge Reeves is right," said I. "The match is to be even." We bowed to +each other. + +The judge felt in his pockets. "Ahem, gentlemen," he resumed. "The Court +being, as it were, broke, will some one be so good as to lend the Court +a silver coin? Thank you," to Williams, "and now, gentlemen, will you +toss for the order of precedence?" + +We threw the coin, and I lost the toss. Orme sent me to the score first, +with the purpose, as I knew, of studying his man. + +I loaded at the open bowls, and adjusted the caps as I stepped to the +score. I was perhaps a bit too tense and eager, although my health and +youth had never allowed me to be a victim of what is known as +nervousness. Our birds were to be flown by hand from behind a screen, +and my first bird started off a trifle low, but fast, and I knew I was +not on with the first barrel, the hang of Stevenson's gun being not +quite the same as my own. I killed it with the second, but it struggled +over the tape. + +"Lost bird!" called out Judge Reeves sharply and distinctly; and it was +evident that now he would be as decisive as he had hitherto been +deliberate. + +Under the etiquette of the game no comment was made on my mishap, and my +second, Stevenson, did not make the mistake of commiserating me. No one +spoke a word as Orme stepped to the score. He killed his bird as clean +as though he had done nothing else all his life, and indeed, I think he +was half turned about from the score before the bird was down. "Dead +bird!" called the referee, with jaw closing like a steel trap. + +Stevenson whispered to me this time. "Get full on with your first," he +said. "They're lead-packers--old ones, every one, and a picked lot." + +I was a trifle angry with myself by this time, but it only left me well +keyed. My bird fell dead inside of Orme's. A murmur of applause ran down +the line. "Silence in the court," thundered Judge Reeves. + +We shot along for ten birds, and Orme was straight, to my nine killed. +Stevenson whispered to me once more. "Take it easy, and don't be worried +about it. It's a long road to a hundred. Don't think about your next +bird, and don't worry whether he kills his or not. Just you kill 'em +one at a time and kill each one dead. You mustn't think of anything on +earth but that one bird before you." + +This was excellent advice in the game, and I nodded to him. Whatever the +cause, I was by this time perfectly calm. I was now accustomed to my +gun, and had confidence in it. I knew I could shoot to the top of my +skill, and if I were beaten it would be through no fault of my own +nerves and muscles, but through the luck of the birds or the greater +skill of the other man. + +Orme went on as though he could kill a hundred straight. His time was +perfect, and his style at the trap beautiful. He shot carelessly, but +with absolute confidence, and more than half the time he did not use his +second barrel. + +"Old Virginia never tires," whispered Stevenson. "He'll come back to you +before long, never fear." + +But Orme made it twenty straight before he came back. Then he caught a +strong right-quarterer, which escaped altogether, apparently very +lightly hit. No one spoke a word of sympathy or exultation, but I caught +the glint of Stevenson's eye. Orme seemed not in the least disturbed. + +We were now tied, but luck ran against us both for a time, since out of +the next five I missed three and Orme two, and the odds again were +against me. It stood the same at thirty, and at thirty-five. At forty +the fortune of war once more favored me, for although Orme shot like a +machine, with a grace and beauty of delivery I have never seen +surpassed, he lost one bird stone dead over the line, carried out by a +slant of the rising wind, which blew from left to right across the +field. Five birds farther on, yet another struggled over for him, and at +sixty-five I had him back of me two birds. The interest all along the +line was now intense. Stevenson later told me that they had never seen +such shooting as we were doing. For myself, it did not seem that I could +miss. I doubt not that eventually I must have won, for fate does not so +favor two men at the same hour. + +We went on slowly, as such a match must, occasionally pausing to cool +our barrels, and taking full time with the loading. Following my +second's instructions perfectly, I looked neither to the right nor to +the left, not even watching Orme. I heard the confusion of low talk back +of us, and knew that a large crowd had assembled, but I did not look +toward the row of carriages, nor pay attention to the new arrivals which +constantly came in. We shot on steadily, and presently I lost a bird, +which came in sharply to the left. + +The heap of dead birds, some of them still fluttering in their last +gasps, now grew larger at the side of the referee, and the negro boys +were perhaps less careful to wring the necks of the birds as they +gathered them. Occasionally a bird was tossed in such a way as to leave +a fluttering wing. Wild pigeons decoy readily to any such sign, and I +noticed that several birds, rising in such position that they headed +toward the score, were incomers, and very fast. My seventieth bird was +such, and it came straight and swift as an arrow, swooping down and +curving about with the great speed of these birds when fairly on the +wing. I covered it, lost sight of it, then suddenly realized that I must +fire quickly if I was to reach it before it crossed the score. It was so +close when I fired that the charge cut away the quills of a wing. It +fell, just inside the line, with its head up, and my gatherer pounced +upon it like a cat. The decision of the referee was prompt, but even +so, it was almost lost in the sudden stir and murmur which arose behind +us. + +Some one came pushing through the crowd, evidently having sprung down +from one of the carriages. I turned to see a young girl, clad in white +lawn, a thin silver-gray veil drawn tight under her chin, who now pushed +forward through the men, and ran up to the black boy who stood with the +bird in his hand, hanging by one wing. She caught it from him, and held +it against her breast, where its blood drabbled her gown and hands. I +remember I saw one drop of blood at its beak, and remember how glad I +was that the bird was in effect dead, so that a trying scene would soon +be ended. + +"Stop this at once!" cried the girl, raising an imperative hand. "Aren't +you ashamed, all of you? Look, look at this!" She held out the dying +bird in her hand. "Judge Reeves," she cried, "what are you doing there?" + +Our decisive referee grew suddenly abashed. "Ah--ah, my dear young +lady--my very dear young lady," he began. + +"Captain Stevenson," exclaimed the girl, whirling suddenly on my second, +"stop this at once! I'm ashamed of you." + +"Now, now, my dear Miss Ellen," began Stevenson, "can't you be a good +fellow and run back home? We're off the reservation, and really--this, +you see, is a judge of the Supreme Court! We're doing nothing unlawful." +He motioned toward Judge Reeves, who looked suddenly uncomfortable. + +Major Williams added his counsel. "It is a little sport between Captain +Orme and Mr. Cowles, Miss Ellen." + +"Sport, great sport, isn't it?" cried the girl, holding out her drabbled +hands. "Look there"--she pointed toward the pile of dead +birds--"hundreds of these killed, for money, for sport. It _isn't_ +sport. You had all these birds once, you owned them." + +And there she hit a large truth, with a woman's guess, although none of +us had paused to consider it so before. + +"The law, Miss Ellen," began Judge Reeves, clearing his throat, "allows +the reducing to possession of animals _feroe naturoe_, that is to say, +of wild nature, and ancient custom sanctions it." + +"They were already _reduced_" she flashed. "The sport was in getting +them the first time, not in butchering them afterward." + +Stevenson and Williams rubbed their chins and looked at each other. As +for me, I was looking at the girl; for it seemed to me that never in my +life had I seen one so beautiful. + +Her hair, reddish brown in the sunlight, was massed up by the binding +veil, which she pushed back now from her face. Her eyes, wide and dark, +were as sad as they were angry. Tears streamed from them down her cheek, +which she did not dry. Fearless, eager, she had, without thought, +intruded where the average woman would not have ventured, and she stood +now courageously intent only upon having the way of what she felt was +right and justice. There came to me as I looked at her a curious sense +that I and all my friends were very insignificant creatures; and it was +so, I think, in sooth, she held us. + +"Captain Orme," said I to my opponent, "you observe the actual Supreme +Court of America!" He bowed to me, with a questioning raising of his +eyebrows, as though he did not like to go on under the circumstances. + +"I am unfortunate to lead by a bird," said I, tentatively. For some +reason the sport had lost its zest to me. + +"And I being the loser as it stands," replied Orme, "do not see how I +can beg off." Yet I thought him as little eager to go on as I myself. + +"Miss Ellen," said Judge Reeves, removing the hat from his white hair, +"these gentlemen desire to be sportsmen as among themselves, but of +course always gentlemen as regards the wish of ladies. Certain financial +considerations are involved, so that both feel a delicacy in regard to +making any motion looking to the altering of the original conditions of +this contract. Under these circumstances, then, appeal is taken from +this lower Court"--and he bowed very low--"to what my young friend very +justly calls the Supreme Court of the United States. Miss Ellen, it is +for you to say whether we shall resume or discontinue." + +The girl bowed to Judge Reeves, and then swept a sudden hand toward +Stevenson and Williams. "Go home, all of you!" she said. + +And so, in sooth, much shamefaced, we did go home, Judge of the Supreme +Court, officers of the Army, and all, vaguely feeling we had been caught +doing some ignoble thing. For my part, although I hope mawkishness no +more marks me than another, and although I made neither then nor at any +time a resolution to discontinue sports of the field, I have never since +then shot in a pigeon match, nor cared to see others do so, for it has +never again seemed to me as actual sport. I think the intuitive dictum +of the Army girl was right. + +"Now _wasn't_ that like Ellen!" exclaimed Kitty, when finally we found +ourselves at her carriage--"just _like_ that girl. Just _wasn't_ it +_like_ that _girl_! To fly in the face of the Supreme Court of the +State, and all the laws of sport as well! Jack, I was keeping count," +she held out her ivory tablets. "You'd have beaten him sure, and I +wanted to see you do it. You were one ahead, and would have made it +better in the next twenty-five. Oh, won't I talk to that girl when I see +her!" + +"So that was Ellen!" I said to Kitty. + +"The very same. Now you've seen her. What you think I don't know, but +what she thinks of you is pretty evident." + +"You were right, Mrs. Kitty," said I. "She's desperately good looking. +But that isn't the girl I danced with last night. In the name of +Providence, let me get away from this country, for I know not what may +happen to me! No man is safe in this neighborhood of beauties." + +"Let's all go home and get a bite to eat," said Stevenson, with much +common sense. "You've got glory enough just the way it stands." + +So that was Ellen! And it moreover was none less than Ellen Meriwether, +daughter of my father's friend and business associate, whom I had +traveled thus far to see, and whom, as I now determined, I must meet at +the very first possible opportunity. Perhaps, then, it might very +naturally come about that--but I dismissed this very rational +supposition as swiftly as I was able. + + + + +CHAPTER XI + +THE MORNING AFTER + + +Events had somewhat hurried me in the two days since my arrival at +Jefferson Barracks, but on the morning following the awkward ending of +my match with Orme I had both opportunity and occasion to take stock of +myself and of my plans. The mails brought me two letters, posted at +Wallingford soon after my departure; one from Grace Sheraton and one +from my mother. The first one was--what shall I say? Better perhaps that +I should say nothing, save that it was like Grace Sheraton herself, +formal, correct and cold. It was the first written word I had ever +received from my fiancée, and I had expected--I do not know what. At +least I had thought to be warmed, comforted, consoled in these times of +my adversity. It seemed to my judgment, perhaps warped by sudden +misfortune, that possibly my fiancée regretted her hasty promise, rued +an engagement to one whose affairs had suddenly taken an attitude of so +little promise. I was a poor man now, and worse than poor, because +lately I had been rich, as things went in my surroundings. In this +letter, I say, I had expected--I do not know what. But certainly I had +not expected to see sitting on the page written in my fiancée's hand, +the face of another woman. I hated myself for it. + +The second letter was from my mother, and it left me still more +disconcerted and sad. "Jack," it said, "I grieve unspeakably. I am sad +beyond all imaginings of sadness. I need thee. Come back the first day +thee can to thy mother." + +There was indeed need for me at home. Yet here was I with my errand not +yet well begun; for Captain Stevenson told me this morning that the Post +Adjutant had received word from Colonel Meriwether saying that he would +be gone for some days or weeks on the upper frontier. Rumor passed about +that a new man, Sherman, was possibly to come on to assume charge of +Jefferson, a man reported to be a martinet fit to stamp out any +demonstration in a locality where secession sentiment was waxing strong. +Meriwether, a Virginian, and hence suspected of Southern sympathy, was +like many other Army officers at the time, shifted to points where his +influence would be less felt, President Buchanan to the contrary +notwithstanding. The sum of all which was that if I wished to meet +Colonel Meriwether and lay before him my own personal request, I would +be obliged to seek for him far to the West, in all likelihood at Fort +Leavenworth, if not at the lower settlements around the old town of +Independence. Therefore I wrote at once both to my fiancée and to my +mother that it would be impossible for me to return at the time, nor at +any positive future time then determinable. I bade a hasty good-by to my +host and hostess, and before noon was off for the city. That night I +took passage on the _River Belle_, a boat bound up the Missouri. + +Thus, somewhat against my will, I found myself a part of that motley +throng of keen-faced, fearless American life then pushing out over the +frontiers. About me were men bound for Oregon, for California, for the +Plains, and not a few whose purpose I took to be partisanship in the +border fighting between slavery and free soil. It was in the West, and +on the new soils, that the question of slavery was really to be debated +and settled finally. + +The intenseness, the eagerness, the compelling confidence of all this +west-bound population did not fail to make the utmost impression upon my +own heart, hitherto limited by the horizon of our Virginia hills. I say +that I had entered upon this journey against my will. Our churning +wheels had hardly reached the turbid flood of the Missouri before the +spell of the frontier had caught me. In spite of sadness, trouble, +doubt, I would now only with reluctance have resigned my advance into +that country which offered to all men, young and old, a zest of deeds +bold enough to banish sadness, doubt and grief. + + + + +CHAPTER XII + +THE WRECK ON THE RIVER + + +I made friends with many of these strange travelers, and was attracted +especially by one, a reticent man of perhaps sixty odd years, in Western +garb, full of beard and with long hair reaching to his shoulders. He had +the face of an old Teuton war chief I had once seen depicted in a canvas +showing a raid in some European forest in years long before a Christian +civilization was known--a face fierce and eager, aquiline in nose, blue +of eye; a figure stalwart, muscular, whose every movement spoke courage +and self-confidence. Auberry was his name, and as I talked with him he +told me of days passed with my heroes--Fremont, Carson, Ashley, Bill +Williams, Jim Bridger, even the negro ruffian Beckwourth--all men of the +border of whose deeds I had read. Auberry had trapped from the St. +Mary's to the sources of the Red, and his tales, told in simple and +matter-of-fact terms, set my very blood atingle. He was bound, as he +informed me, for Laramie; always provided that the Sioux, now grown +exceedingly restless over the many wagon-trains pushing up the Platte to +all the swiftly-opening West, had not by this time swooped down and +closed all the trails entirely. I wished nothing then so much as that +occasion might permit me to join him in a journey across the Plains. + +Among all these west-bound travelers the savage and the half-civilized +seemed to me to preponderate; this not to say that they were so much +coarse and crude as they were fierce, absorbed, self-centered. Each man +depended upon himself and needed to do so. The crew on the decks were +relics from keel-boat days, surly and ugly of temper. The captain was an +ex-pilot of the lower river, taciturn and surly of disposition. Our +pilot had been drunk for a week at the levee of St. Louis and I misdoubt +that all snags and sandbars looked alike to him. + +Among the skin-clad trappers, hunters and long-haired plainsmen, I saw +but one woman, and she certainly was fit to bear them company. I should +say that she was at least sixty years of age, and nearly six feet in +height, thin, angular, wrinkled and sinewy. She wore a sunbonnet of +enormous projection, dipped snuff vigorously each few moments, and never +allowed from her hands the long squirrel rifle which made a part of her +equipage. She was accompanied by her son, a tall, thin, ague-smitten +youth of perhaps seventeen years and of a height about as great as her +own. Of the two the mother was evidently the controlling spirit, and in +her case all motherly love seemed to have been replaced by a vast +contempt for the inefficiency and general lack of male qualities in her +offspring. When I first saw them she was driving her son before her to a +spot where an opening offered near the bow of the boat, in full sight of +all the passengers, of whose attention she was quite oblivious. + +"Git up, there, Andy Jackson!" she said. "Stan' up!" + +The boy, his long legs braiding under him, and his peaked face still +more pale, did as he was bid. He had no sooner taken his position than +to my surprise I saw his mother cover him with the long barrel of a +dragoon revolver. + +"Pull your gun, you low-down coward," she commanded, in tones that might +have been heard half the length of the boat. Reluctantly the boy +complied, his own revolver trembling in his unready hand. + +"Now, whut'd you do if a man was to kivver you like I'm a-doin' now?" +demanded his mother. + +"G-g-g-Gawd, Maw, I dunno! I think I'd j-j-j-jump off in the river," +confessed the boy. + +"Shore you would, and good luck if you'd git plumb drownded, you +white-livered son of misery. Whatever in Gawd A'mighty's world you was +borned for certainly is more'n I can tell--and I your Maw at that, that +orto know if anybody could." + +"Madam," I interrupted, astonished at this discourse, "what do you mean +by such talk to your son--for I presume he is your son. Why do you abuse +him in this way?" I was sorry for the shivering wretch whom she had made +the object of her wrath. + +"Shut up, and mind yore own business," answered the virago, swiftly +turning the barrel of her weapon upon me. "Whut business is this here of +yores?" + +"None, madam," I bowed, "but I was only curious." + +"You keep your own cur'osity to yourself ef you'r goin' to travel in +these parts. That's a mighty good thing for you to learn." + +"Very true, madam," said I, gently disengaging the revolver barrel from +the line of my waist, "but won't you tell me why you do these things +with your son?" + +"It's none of your damned business," she answered, "but I don't mind +tellin' you. I'm tryin' to make a man out'n him." + +"Ah, and this is part of the drill?" + +"Part of it. You, Andrew Jackson, stick yore pistol up agin your head +the way I tol' you. Now snap it, damn you! Keep _on_ a-snappin'! Quit +that jumpin', I tell you! Snap, it till you git through bein' scared of +it. Do it now, or by Gawd, I'll chase you over the side of the boat and +feed you to the catfish, you low-down imertation of a he-thing. Mister," +she turned to me again, "will you please tell me how come me to be the +mother of a thing like this--me, a woman of ole Missoury; and me a +cousin of ole Simon Kenton of Kentucky beside?" + +"My good woman," said I, somewhat amused by her methods of action and +speech, "do you mind telling me what is your name?" + +"Name's Mandy McGovern; and I come from Pike," she answered, almost +before the words were out of my mouth. "I've been merried three times +and my first two husbands died a-fightin, like gentlemen, in +diffikilties with friends. Then along come this Danny Calkins, that +taken up some land nigh to me in the bottoms--low-downest coward of a, +man that ever disgraced the sile of yearth--and then I merried _him_." + +"Is he dead, too, my dear woman?" I asked. + +"Don't you 'dear woman' me--I ain't free to merry agin yit," said she. +"Naw, he ain't dead, and I ain't deevorced either. I just done left him. +Why, every man in Pike has whupped Danny Calkins one time or other. When +a man couldn't git no reputation any other way, he'd come erlong and +whupped my husband. I got right tired of it." + +"I should think you might." + +"Yes, and me the wife of two real men befo' then. If ever a woman had +hard luck the same is me," she went on. "I had eight chillen by my two +husbands that was real men, and every one of them died, or got killed +like a man, or went West like a man--exceptin' this thing here, the son +of that there Danny Calkins. Why, he's afraid to go coon huntin' at +night for fear the cats'll get him. He don't like to melk a keow for +fear she'll kick him. He's afraid to court a gal. He kaint shoot, he +kaint chop, he kaint do nothin'. I'm takin' him out West to begin over +again where the plowin's easier; and whiles we go along, I'm givin' him +a 'casional dose of immanuel trainin', to see if I can't make him part +way intoe a man. I dunno!" Mrs. McGovern dipped snuff vigorously. + +Thereafter she looked at me carefully. "Say, mister," said she, "how +tall are you?" + +"About six feet, I think." + +"Hum! That's just about how tall my first husband was. You look some +like him in the face, too. Say, he was the fightin'est man in Pike. How +come him to get killed was a diffikilty with his brother-in-law, a +Dutchman that kept a saloon and couldn't talk English. Jim, he went in +there to get a bite to eat and asked this Dutchman what he could set up. +Paul--that was the Dutchman's name--he says, 'Well, we got dawg--mallard +dawg, and red head dawg, and canvas back dawg--what's the kind of dawg +you like, Chim?' + +"My husband thought he was pokin' fun at him, talkin' about eatin' +dawg--not knowin' the Dutchman was tryin' to say 'duck,' and couldn't. +'I might have a piece of duck,' said Jim, 'bit I ain't eatin' no dawg.' + +"'I _said_ dawg,' says Paul, still a-tryin' to say 'duck.' + +"'I know you did,' says Jim, and then they clinched. Jim He broke his +knife off, and the Dutchman soaked him with a beer mallet. 'But Mandy,' +says Jim to me, jest before he shet his eyes, 'I die content. That +there fellow was the sweetest cuttin' man I ever did cut in all my +life--he was jest like a ripe pumpkin.' Say, there was a man for you, +was Jim--you look some like him." She dipped snuff again vigorously. + +"You compliment me very much, Mrs. McGovern," I said. + +"Say," she responded, "I got two thousand head o' hawgs runnin' around +in the timber down there in Pike." + +At the moment I did not see the veiled tenderness of this speech, but +thought of nothing better than to tell her that I was going no further +up the river than Fort Leavenworth. + +"Um-hum!" she said. "Say, mister, mebbe that's yore wife back there in +the kebbin in the middle of the boat?" + +"No, indeed. In fact I did not know there was any other lady on the boat +besides yourself. I am not much interested in young ladies, as it +happens." + +"You lie," said Mrs. McGovern promptly, "there ain't nothin' in the +whole world you are ez much interested in as young wimmin. I'm a merried +woman, and I know the signs. If I had a deevorce I might be a leetle +jealous o' that gal in there. She's the best lookin' gal I ever did see +in all my time. If I was merried to you I dunno but I'd be a leetle bit +jealous o' you. Say, I may be a widder almost any day now. Somebody'll +shore kill Danny Calkins 'fore long." + +"And, according to you, I may be a married man almost any day," I +replied, smiling. + +"But you ain't merried yit." + +"No, not yet," I answered. + +"Well, if you git a chanct you take a look at that gal back there in the +kebbin." + +Opportunity did not offer, however, to accept Mrs. McGovern's kindly +counsel, and, occupied with my own somewhat unhappy reflections, I +resigned myself to the monotony of the voyage up the Missouri River. We +plowed along steadily, although laboriously, all night, all the next day +and the next night, passing through regions rich in forest growth, +marked here and there by the many clearings of the advancing settlers. +We were by this time far above the junction of the Missouri River with +the Mississippi--a point traceable by a long line of discolored water +stained with the erosion of the mountains and plains far up the +Missouri. As the boat advanced, hour after hour, finally approaching the +prairie country beyond the Missouri forests, I found little in the +surroundings to occupy my mind; and so far as my communings with myself +were concerned, they offered little satisfaction. A sort of shuddering +self-reproach overcame me. I wondered whether or not I was less coarse, +less a thing polygamous than these crowding Mormons hurrying out to +their sodden temples in the West, because now (since I have volunteered +in these pages to tell the truth regarding one man's heart), I must +admit that in the hours of dusk I found myself dreaming not of my +fiancée back in old Virginia, but of other women seen more recently. As +to the girl of the masked ball, I admitted that she was becoming a +fading memory; but this young girl who had thrust through the crowd and +broken up our proceedings the other day--the girl with the white lawn +gown and the silver gray veil and the tear-stained eyes--in some way, as +I was angrily obliged to admit, her face seemed annoyingly to thrust +itself again into my consciousness. I sat near a deck lamp. Grace +Sheraton's letter was in my pocket. I did not draw it out to read it +and re-read it. I contented myself with watching the masked shadows on +the shores. I contented myself with dreams, dreams which I stigmatized +as unwarranted and wrong. + +We were running that night in the dark, before the rising of the moon, a +thing which cautious steamboat men would not have ventured, although our +pilot was confident that no harm could come to him. Against assurance +such as this the dangerous Missouri with its bars and snags purposed a +present revenge. Our whistle awakened the echoes along the shores as we +plowed on up the yellow flood, hour after hour. Then, some time toward +midnight, while most of the passengers were attempting some sort of +rest, wrapped in their blankets along the deck, there came a slight +shock, a grating slide, and a rasping crash of wood. With a forward +churning of her paddles which sent water high along the rail, the _River +Belle_ shuddered and lay still, her engines throbbing and groaning. + +In an instant every one on the boat was on his feet and running to the +side. I joined the rush to the bows, and leaning over, saw that we were +hard aground at the lower end of a sand bar. Imbedded in this bar was a +long white snag, a tree trunk whose naked arms, thrusting far down +stream, had literally impaled us. The upper woodwork of the boat was +pierced quite through; and for all that one could tell at the moment, +the hull below the line was in all likelihood similarly crushed. We hung +and gently swung, apparently at the mercy of the tawny flood of old +Missouri. + + + + +CHAPTER XIII + +THE FACE IN THE FIRELIGHT + + +Sudden disaster usually brings sudden calm, the pause before resolution +or resignation. For the first instant after the shock of the boat upon +the impaling snag I stood irresolute; the next, I was busy with plans +for escape. Running down the companionway, I found myself among a crowd +of excited deck hands, most of whom, with many of the passengers, were +pushing toward the starboard rail, whence could be seen the gloom of the +forest along shore. The gangway door on the opposite side of the boat +was open, and as I looked out I could see the long white arms of the +giant snag reaching alongside. Without much plan or premeditation I +sprang out, and making good my hold upon the nearest limb as I plunged, +found myself, to my surprise, standing in not more than four feet of +water, the foot of the bar evidently running down well under the boat. + +Just as I turned to call to others I saw the tall figure of my +plainsman, Auberry, appear at the doorway, and he also, with scarcely a +moment's deliberation, took a flying leap and joined me on the snag. +"It's better here than there," he said, "if she sinks or busts, and +they're allus likely to do both." + +As we pulled ourselves up into the fork of the long naked branch we +heard a voice, and saw the face of a woman leaning over the rail of the +upper deck. I recognized my whilom friend, Mandy McGovern. "Whut you all +doin' down there?" she called. "Wait a minute; I'm comin', too." A +moment later she appeared at the opening of the lower deck and craned +out her long neck. I then saw at her side the figure of a young woman, +her hair fallen from its coils, her feet bare, her body wrapped +apparently only in some light silken dressing to be thrown above her +nightwear. She, too, looked out into the darkness, but shrank back. + +"Here, you," called out Mandy McGovern, "git hold of the end of this +rope." + +She tossed to me the end of the gang-plank rope, by which the sliding +stage was drawn out and in at the boat landings. I caught this and +passed it over a projection on the snag. + +"Now, haul it out," commanded she; and as we pulled, she pushed, so that +presently indeed we found that the end reached the edge of the limb on +which we sat. Without any concern, Mrs. McGovern stepped out on the +swaying bridge, sunbonnet hanging down her back, her long rifle under +one arm, while by the other hand she dragged her tall son, Andrew +Jackson, who was blubbering in terror. + +This bridge, however, proved insecure, for as Mandy gave Andrew Jackson +a final yank at its farther end, the latter stumbled, and in his +struggles to lay hold upon the snag, pushed the end of the planks off +their support. His mother's sinewy arm thrust him into safety, and she +herself clambered up, very wet and very voluble in her imprecations on +his clumsiness. + +"Thar, now, look what ye did, ye low-down coward," she said. "Like to +'a' drownded both of us, and left the gal back there on the boat!" + +The gang plank, confined by the rope, swung in the current alongside the +snag, but it seemed useless to undertake to restore it to its position. +The girl cowered against the side of the deck opening, undecided. +"Wait," I called out to her; and slipping down into the water again, I +waded as close as I could to the door, the water then catching me close +to the shoulders. + +"Jump!" I said to her, holding out my arms. + +"I can't--I'm afraid," she said, in a voice hardly above a whisper. + +"Do as I tell you!" I roared, in no gentle tones, I fear. "Jump at +once!" She stooped, and sprang, and as I caught her weight with my arms +under hers, she was for the moment almost immersed; but I staggered +backwards and managed to hold my footing till Auberry's arms reached us +from the snag, up which we clambered, the girl dripping wet and catching +her breath in terror. + +"That's right," said Mandy McGovern, calmly, "now here we be, all of us. +Now, you men, git hold of this here rope an' haul up them boards, an' +make a seat for us." + +Auberry and I found it difficult to execute this order, for the current +of old Missouri, thrusting against so large an object, was incredibly +strong; but at last, little by little edging the heavy staging up over +the limb of the snag, we got its end upon another fork and so made a +ticklish support, half in and half out of the water. + +"That's better," said Mandy, climbing upon it. "Now come here, you pore +child. You're powerful cold." She gathered the girl between her knees as +she sat. "Here, you man, give me your coat," she said to me; and I +complied, wishing it were not so wet. + +None on the boat seemed to have any notion of what was going on upon our +side of the vessel. We heard many shouts and orders, much trampling of +feet, but for the most part on the opposite part of the boat. Then at +once we heard the engines reverse, and were nearly swept from our +insecure hold upon the snag by the surges kicked up under the wheel. The +current caught the long underbody of the boat as she swung. We heard +something rip and splinter and grate; and then the boat, backing free +from the snag, gradually slipped down from the bar and swept into the +current under steam again. + +Not so lucky ourselves, for this wrenching free of the boat had torn +loose the long imbedded roots of the giant snag, and the plowing current +getting under the vast flat back of matted roots, now slowly forced it, +grinding and shuddering, down from the toe of the bar. With a sullen +roll it settled down into new lines as it reached the deeper water. Then +the hiss of the water among the branches ceased. Rolling and swaying, we +were going with the current, fully afloat on the yellow flood of the +Missouri! + +I held my breath for a moment, fearing lest the snag might roll over +entirely; but no concern seemed to reach the mind of our friend Mrs. +McGovern. "It's all right," said she, calmly. "No use gittin' skeered +till the time comes. Boat's left us, so I reckon we'd better be gittin' +somewhere for ourselves. You, Andrew Jackson, dem yer fool soul, if you +don't quit snivelin' I'll throw you off into the worter." + +Looking across the stream I could see the lights of the _River Belle_ +swing gradually into a longer line, and presently heard the clanging of +her bells as she came to a full stop, apparently tied up along shore. +From that direction the current seemed to come toward us with a long +slant, so that as we dropped down stream, we also edged away. + +We had traveled perhaps three quarters of a mile, when I noticed the dim +loom of trees on our side of the stream, and saw that we were +approaching a long point which ran out below us. This should have been +the deep side of the river, but no one can account for the vagaries of +the Missouri. When we were within a hundred yards or so of the point, we +felt a long shuddering scrape under us, and after a series of slips and +jerks, our old snag came to anchor again, its roots having once more +laid hold upon a bar. The sand-wash seemed to have been deflected by the +projecting mass of a heap of driftwood which I now saw opposite to us, +its long white arms reaching out toward those of our floating craft. +Once more the hissing of the water began among the buried limbs, and +once more the snag rolled ominously, and then lay still, its giant, +naked trunk, white and half submerged, reaching up stream fifty feet +above us. We were apparently as far from safety as ever, although almost +within touch of shore. + +It occurred to me that as I had been able to touch bottom on the other +bar, I might do so here. I crawled back along the trunk of the snag to a +place as near the roots as I could reach, and letting myself down +gently, found that I could keep my footing on the sand. + +"Look out there! boy," cried Auberry to me. "This river's dangerous. If +it takes you down, swim for the shore. Don't try to get back here." We +could see that the set of the current below ran close inshore, although +doubtless the water there was very deep. + +Little by little I edged up the stream, and found presently that the +water shoaled toward the heap of driftwood. It dropped off, I know not +how deep, between the edge of the bar and the piled drift; but standing +no more than waist deep; I could reach the outer limbs of the drift and +saw that they would support my weight. After that I waded back to the +snag carefully, and once more ordered the young woman to come to me. + +She came back along the naked and slippery trunk of the snag, pulling +herself along by her hands, her bare feet and limbs deep in the water +alongside. I could hear the sob of her intaken breath, and saw that she +trembled in fright. + +"Come," I said, as she finally reached the mass of the roots. And more +dead than alive, it seemed to me, she fell once more into my arms. I +felt her grasp tighten about my neck, and her firm body crowd against me +as we both sank down for an instant. Then I caught my feet and +straightened, and was really the steadier for the added weight, as any +one knows who has waded in fast water. Little by little I edged up on +the bar, quite conscious of her very gracious weight, but sure we should +thus reach safety. + +"Put me down," she said at length, as she saw the water shoaling. It was +hip deep to me, but waist deep to her; and I felt her shudder as she +caught its chill. Her little hand gripped tight to mine. + +By this time the others had also descended from the snag. I saw old +Auberry plunging methodically along, at his side Mrs. McGovern, clasping +the hand of her son. "Come on here, you boy," she said. "What ye skeered +of? Tall as you air, you could wade the whole Missouri without your hair +gettin' wet. Come along!" + +"Get up, Auberry," I said to him as he approached, and motioned to the +long, overhanging branches from the driftwood. He swung up, breaking off +the more insecure boughs, and was of the belief that we could get across +in that way. As he reached down, I swung the young woman up to him, and +she clambered on as best she could. Thus, I scarce know how, we all +managed to reach the solid drift, and so presently found ourselves +ashore, on a narrow, sandy beach, hedged on the back by a heavy growth +of willows. + +"Now then, you men," ordered Mandy McGovern, "get some wood out and +start a fire, right away. This here girl is shaking the teeth plumb +out'n her head." + +Auberry and I had dragged some wood from the edge of the drift and +pulled it into a heap near by, before we realized that neither of us had +matches. + +"Humph!" snorted our leader, feeling in her pockets. She drew forth two +flasks, each stoppered with a bit of corncob. The one held sulphur +matches, thus kept quite dry, and this she passed to me. The other she +handed to the young woman. + +"Here," said she, "take a drink of that. It'll do you good." + +I heard the girl gasp and choke as she obeyed this injunction; and then +Mandy applied the bottle gurglingly to her own lips. + +"I've got a gallon of that back there on the boat," said Auberry +ruefully. + +"Heap of good it'll do you there," remarked Mandy. "Looks to me like you +all never did travel much. Fer me, I always go heeled. Wherever I gits +throwed, there my rifle, and my matches, and my licker gits throwed +_too_! Now I'll show you how to, light a fire." + +Presently we had a roaring blaze started, which added much to the +comfort of all, for the chill of night was over the river, despite the +fact that this was in the springtime. Mandy seated herself comfortably +upon a log, and producing a corncob pipe and a quantity of natural leaf +tobacco, proceeded to enjoy herself in her own fashion. "This here's all +right," she remarked. "We might be a heap worse off'n we air." + +I could not help pitying the young woman who crouched near her at the +fireside, still shivering; she seemed so young and helpless and so out +of place in such surroundings. As presently the heat of the flame made +her more comfortable, she began to tuck back the tumbled locks of her +hair, which I could see was thick and dark. The firelight showed in +silhouette the outlines of her face. It seemed to me I had never seen +one more beautiful. I remembered the round firmness of her body in my +arms, the clasp of her hands about my neck, her hair blown across my +cheek, and I reflected that since fortune had elected me to be a +rescuer, it was not ill that so fair an object had been there for the +rescuing. + +Perhaps she felt my gaze, for presently she turned and said to me, in as +pleasant a speaking voice as I had ever heard, "Indeed, it might be +worse. I thank you so much. It was very brave of you." + +"Listen at that!" grunted Mandy McGovern. "What'd them men have to do +with it? Where'd you all be now if it wasn't for me?" + +"You'd be much better off," I ventured, "if I hadn't done any rescuing +at all, and if we'd all stayed over there on the boat." I pointed to the +lights of the _River Belle_, lying on the opposite shore, something like +a mile above us. + +"We're all right now," said old Auberry after a time. "If we can't get +across to the boat, it's only four or five miles up to the settlements +on this side, opposite the old Independence landing." + +"I couldn't walk," said the girl. She shyly looked down at the edge of +her thin wrapper, and I saw the outline of an uncovered toe. + +"Here, ma'am," said Auberry, unknotting from his neck a heavy bandana. +"This is the best I can do. You and the woman see if you can tie up your +feet somehow." + +The girl hesitated, laughed, and took the kerchief. She and Mandy bent +apart, and I heard the ripping of the handkerchief torn across. The girl +turned back to the fire and put out a little foot for us to see, muffled +now in the red folds of the kerchief. Her thin garments by this time +were becoming dry, and her spirits now became more gay. She fell into a +ready comradeship with us. + +As she stood at the fire, innocent of its defining light, I saw that she +was a beautiful creature, apparently about twenty years of age. Given +proper surroundings, I fancied, here was a girl who might make trouble +for a man. Eyes like hers, I imagined, had before this set some man's +heart astir; and one so fair as she never waited long in this world for +admirers. + +She stooped and spread out her hands before the flames. I could see that +her hands were small and well formed, could see the firelight shine pink +at the inner edges of her fingers. On one finger, as I could not avoid +noticing, was a curious ring of plain gold. The setting, also of gold, +was deeply cut into the figure of a rose. I recalled that I had never +seen a ring just similar. Indeed, it seemed to me, as I stole a furtive +glance at her now and then, I had never seen a girl just similar. + +[Illustration: THEY FOUGHT FURIOUSLY THE YELLING CHARGING REDSKIN +WARRIORS] + +[Illustration: THE WAGONS DRAW INTO A DEFENSIVE CIRCLE] + +We had waited perhaps not over an hour at our fireside, undecided what +to do, when Auberry raised a hand. "Listen," he said. "There's a boat +coming"; and presently we all heard the splash of oars. Our fire had +been seen by one of the boats of the _River Belle_, out picking up such +stragglers as could be found. + +"Hello, there!" called a rough voice to us, as the boat grated at our +beach. Auberry and I walked over and found that it was the mate of the +boat, with a pair of oarsmen in a narrow river skiff. + +"How many's there of you?" asked the mate--"Five?--I can't take you +all." + +"All right," said Auberry, "this gentleman and I will walk up to the +town on this side. You take the women and the boy. We'll send down for +our things in the morning, if you don't come up." + +So our little bivouac on the beach came to an end. A moment later the +passengers were embarked, and Auberry and I, standing at the bow, were +about to push off the boat for them. + +"A moment, sir," exclaimed our friend of the fireside, rising and +stepping toward me as I stood alongside the boat. "You are forgetting +your coat." + +She would have taken it from her shoulders, but I forbade it. She +hesitated, and finally said, "I thank you so much"; holding out her +hand. + +I took it. It was a small hand, with round fingers, firm of clasp. I +hate a hard-handed woman, or one with mushy fingers, but this, as it +seemed to me, was a hand excellently good to clasp--warm now, and no +longer trembling in the terrors of the night. + +"I do not know your name, sir," she said, "but I should like my father +to thank you some day." + +"All ready!" cried the mate. + +"My name is Cowles," I began, "and sometime, perhaps--" + +"All aboard!" cried the mate; and so the oars gave way. + +So I did not get the name of the girl I had seen there in the firelight. +What did remain--and that not wholly to my pleasure, so distinct it +seemed--was the picture of her high-bred profile, shown in chiaroscuro +at the fireside, the line of her chin and neck, the tumbled masses of +her hair. These were things I did not care to remember; and I hated +myself as a soft-hearted fool, seeing that I did so. + +"Son," said old Auberry to me, after a time, as we trudged along up the +bank, stumbling over roots and braided grasses, "that was a almighty +fine lookin' gal we brung along with us there." + +"I didn't notice," said I. + +"No," said Auberry, solemnly, "I noticed you didn't take no notice; so +you can just take my judgment on it, which I allow is safe. Are you a +married man?" + +"Not yet," I said. + +"You might do a heap worse than that gal," said Auberry. + +"I suppose you're married yourself," I suggested. + +"Some," said Auberry, chuckling in the dark. "In fact, a good deal, I +reckon. My present woman's a Shoshone--we're livin' up Horse Creek, +below Laramie. Them Shoshones make about the best dressers of 'em all." + +"I don't quite understand--" + +"I meant hides. They can make the best buckskin of any tribe I know." He +walked on ahead in the dark for some time, before he added irrelevantly, +"Well, after all, in some ways, women is women, my son, and men is men; +that bein' the way this world is made just at these here present times. +As I was sayin', that's a powerful nice lookin' gal." + +I shuddered in my soul. I glanced up at the heavens, studded thick with +stars. It seemed to me that I saw gazing down directly at me one cold, +bright, reproving star, staring straight into my soul, and accusing me +of being nothing more than a savage, nothing better than a man. + + + + +CHAPTER XIV + +AU LARGE + + +At our little village on the following morning, Auberry and I learned +that the _River Bell_ would lie up indefinitely for repairs, and that at +least one, perhaps several days would elapse before she resumed her +journey up stream. This suited neither of us, so we sent a negro down +with a skiff, and had him bring up our rifles, Auberry's bedding, my +portmanteaus, etc., it being our intention to take the stage up to +Leavenworth. By noon our plans were changed again, for a young Army +officer came down from that Post with the information that Colonel +Meriwether was not there. He had been ordered out to the Posts up the +Platte River, had been gone for three weeks; and no one could tell what +time he would return. The Indians were reported very bad along the +Platte. Possibly Colonel Meriwether might be back at Leavenworth within +the week, possibly not for a month or more! + +This was desperate news for me, for I knew that I ought to be starting +home at that very time. Still, since I had come hither as a last resort, +it would do no good for me to go back unsuccessful. Should I wait here, +or at Leavenworth; or should I go on still farther west? Auberry decided +that for me. + +"I tell you what we can do," he said. "We can outfit here, and take the +Cut-off trail to the Platte, across the Kaw and the Big and Little +Blue--that'll bring us in far enough east to catch the Colonel if he's +comin' down the valley. You'd just as well be travelin' as loafin', and +that's like enough the quickest way to find him." + +The counsel seemed good. I sat down and wrote two more letters home, +once more stating that I was not starting east, but going still farther +west. This done, I tried to persuade myself to feel no further +uneasiness, and to content my mind with the sense of duty done. + +Auberry, as it chanced, fell in with a party bound for Denver, five men +who had two wagons, a heavy Conestoga freight wagon, or prairie +schooner, and a lighter vehicle without a cover. We arranged with these +men, and their cook as to our share in the mess box, and so threw in our +dunnage with theirs, Auberry and I purchasing us a good horse apiece. By +noon of the next day we were on our way westward, Auberry himself now +much content. + +"The settlements for them that likes 'em," said he. "For me, there's +nothing like the time when I start west, with a horse under me, and run +_au large_, as the French traders say. You'll get a chance now to see +the Plains, my son." + +At first we saw rather the prairies than the Plains proper. We were +following a plainly marked trail, which wound in and out among low +rolling hills; and for two days we remained in touch with the scattered +huts of the squalid, half-civilized Indians and squaw men who still hung +around the upper reservations. Bleached bones of the buffalo we saw here +and there, but there was no game. The buffalo had long years since been +driven far to the westward. We took some fine fish in the clear waters +of the forks of the Blue, which with some difficulty we were able to +ford. Gradually shaking down into better organization, we fared on and +on day after day, until the grass grew shorter and the hills flatter. At +last we approached the valley of the Platte. + +We were coming now indeed into the great Plains, of which I had heard +all my youth. A new atmosphere seemed to invest the world. The talk of +my companions was of things new and wild and strange to me. All my old +life seemed to be slipping back of me, into a far oblivion. A feeling of +rest, of confidence and of uplift came to me. It was difficult to be +sad. The days were calm, the nights were full of peace. Nature seemed to +be loftily above all notice of small frettings. Many things became more +clear to me, as I rode and reflected. In some way, I know not how, it +seemed to me that I was growing older. + +We had been out more than two weeks when finally we reached the great +valley along which lay the western highway of the old Oregon trail, now +worn deep and dusty by countless wheels. Our progress had not been very +rapid, and we had lost time on two occasions in hunting up strayed +animals. But, here at last, I saw the road of the old fur traders, of +Ashley and Sublette and Bridger, of Carson and Fremont, later of +Kearney, Sibley, Marcy, one knew not how many Army men, who had for +years been fighting back the tribes and making ready this country for +white occupation. As I looked at this wild, wide region, treeless, +fruitless, it seemed to me that none could want it. The next thought was +the impression that, no matter how many might covet it, it was +exhaustless, and would last forever. This land, this West, seemed to all +then unbelievably large and limitless. + +We pushed up the main trail of the Platte but a short distance that +night, keeping out an eye for grazing ground for our horses. Auberry +knew the country perfectly. "About five or six miles above here," he +said, "there's a stage station, if the company's still running through +here now. Used to be two or three fellers and some horses stayed there." + +We looked forward to meeting human faces with some pleasure; but an hour +or so later, as we rode on, I saw Auberry pull up his horse, with a +strange tightening of his lips. "Boys," said he, "there's where it +_was!_" His pointing finger showed nothing more than a low line of +ruins, bits of broken fencing, a heap of half-charred timbers. + +"They've been here," said Auberry, grimly. "Who'd have thought the Sioux +would be this far east?" + +He circled his horse out across the valley, riding with his head bent +down. "Four days ago at least," he said, "and a bunch of fifty or more +of them. Come on, men." + +We rode up to the station, guessing what we would see. The buildings lay +waste and white in ashes. The front of the dugout was torn down, the +wood of its doors and windows burned. The door of the larger dugout, +where the horses had been stabled, was also torn away. Five dead horses +lay near by, a part of the stage stock kept there. We kept our eyes as +long as we could from what we knew must next be seen--the bodies of the +agent and his two stablemen, mutilated and half consumed, under the +burned-out timbers. I say the bodies, for the lower limbs of all three +had been dismembered and cast in a heap near where the bodies of the +horses lay. We were on the scene of one of the brutal massacres of the +savage Indian tribes. It seemed strange these things should be in a spot +so silent and peaceful, under a sky so blue and gentle. + +"Sioux!" said Auberry, looking down as he leaned on his long rifle. +"Not a wheel has crossed their trail, and I reckon the trail's blocked +both east and west. But the boys put up a fight." He led us here and +there and showed dried blotches on the soil, half buried now in the +shifting sand; showed us the bodies of a half-dozen ponies, killed a +couple of hundred yards from the door of the dugout. + +"They must have shot in at the front till they killed the boys," he +added. "And they was so mad they stabbed the horses for revenge, the way +they do sometimes. Yes, the boys paid their way when they went, I +reckon." + +We stood now in a silent group, and what was best to be done none at +first could tell. Two of our party were for turning back down the +valley, but Auberry said he could see no advantage in that. + +"Which way they've gone above here no one can tell," he said. "They're +less likely to come here now, so it seems to me the best thing we can do +is to lay up here and wait for some teams comin' west. There'll be news +of some kind along one way or the other, before so very long." + +So now we, the living, took up our places almost upon the bodies of the +dead, after giving these the best interment possible. We hobbled and +side-lined our horses, and kept our guards both day and night; and so we +lay here for three days. + +The third day passed until the sun sank toward the sand dunes, and cast +a long path of light across the rippling shallows among the sand bars of +the Platte; but still we saw no signs of newcomers. Evening was +approaching when we heard the sound of a distant shot, and turning saw +our horse-guard, who had been stationed at the top of a bluff near by, +start down the slope, running toward the camp. As he approached he +pointed, and we looked down the valley toward the east. + +Surely enough, we saw a faint cloud of dust coming toward us, whether of +vehicles or horsemen we could not tell. Auberry thought that it was +perhaps some west-bound emigrant or freight wagon, or perhaps a stage +with belated mails. + +"Stay here, boys," he said, "and I'll ride down and see." He galloped +off, half a mile or so, and then we saw him pause, throw up his hand, +and ride forward at full speed. By that time the travelers were topping +a slight rise in the floor of the valley, and we could see that they +were horsemen, perhaps thirty or forty in all. Following them came the +dust-whitened top of an Army ambulance, and several camp wagons, to the +best of our figuring at that distance. We hesitated no longer and +quickly mounting our horses rode full speed toward them. Auberry met us, +coming back. + +"Troop of dragoons, bound for Laramie," he said. "No Indians back of +them, but orders are out for all of the wagons and stages to hole up +till further orders. This party's going through. I told them to camp +down there," he said to me aside, "because they've got women with 'em, +and I didn't want them to see what's happened up here. We'll move our +camp down to theirs to-night, and like enough go on with them +to-morrow." + +By the time I was ready to approach these new arrivals, they had their +plans for encampment under way with the celerity of old campaigners. +Their horses were hobbled, their cook-fires of buffalo "chips" were lit, +their wagons backed into a rude stockade. Guards were moving out with +the horses to the grazing ground. They were a seasoned lot of Harney's +frontier fighters, grimed and grizzled, their hats, boots and clothing +gray with dust, but their weapons bright. Their leader was a young +lieutenant, who approached me when I rode up. It seemed to me I +remembered his blue eyes and his light mustaches, curled upward at the +points. + +"Lieutenant Belknap!" I exclaimed. "Do you remember meeting me down at +Jefferson?" + +"Why, Mr. Cowles!" he exclaimed. "How on earth did you get here? Of +course I remember you." + +"Yes, but how did you get here yourself--you were not on my boat?" + +"I was ordered up the day after you left Jefferson Barracks," he said, +"and took the _Asia_. We got into St. Joe the same day with the _River +Belle_, and heard about your accident down river. I suppose you came out +on the old Cut-off trail." + +"Yes; and of course you took the main trail west from Leavenworth." + +He nodded. "Orders to take this detachment out to Laramie," he said, +"and meet Colonel Meriwether there." + +"He'll not be back?" I exclaimed in consternation. "I was hoping to meet +him coming east." + +"No," said Belknap, "you'll have to go on with us if you wish to see +him. I'm afraid the Sioux are bad on beyond. Horrible thing your man +tells me about up there," he motioned toward the ruined station. "I'm +taking his advice and going into camp here, for I imagine it isn't a +nice thing for a woman to see." + +He turned toward the ambulance, and I glanced that way. There stood near +it a tall, angular figure, head enshrouded in an enormous sunbonnet; a +personality which it seemed to me I recognized. + +"Why, that's my friend, Mandy McGovern," said I. "I met her on the boat. +Came out from Leavenworth with you, I suppose?" + +"That isn't the one," said Belknap. "No, I don't fancy that sister +McGovern would cut up much worse than the rest of us over that matter up +there; but the other one--" + +At that moment, descending at the rear of the ambulance, I saw the other +one. + + + + +CHAPTER XV + +HER INFINITE VARIETY + + +It was a young woman who left the step of the ambulance and stood for a +moment shading her eyes with her hand and looking out over the +shimmering expanse of the broad river. All at once the entire landscape +was changed. It was not the desert, but civilization which swept about +us. A transfiguration had been wrought by one figure, fair to look upon. + +I could see that this was no newcomer in the world of the out-of-doors, +however. She was turned out in what one might have called workmanlike +fashion, although neat and wholly feminine. Her skirt was short, of good +gray cloth, and she wore a rather mannish coat over a blue woolen shirt +or blouse. Her hands were covered with long gauntlets, and her hat was a +soft gray felt, tied under the chin with a leather string, while a soft +gray veil was knotted carelessly about her neck as kerchief. Her face +for the time was turned from us, but I could see that her hair was dark +and heavy, could see, in spite of its loose garb, that her figure was +straight, round and slender. The swift versatility of my soul was upon +the point of calling this as fine a figure of young womanhood as I had +ever seen. Now, indeed, the gray desert had blossomed as a rose. + +I was about to ask some questions of Belknap, when all at once I saw +something which utterly changed my pleasant frame of mind. The tall +figure of a man came from beyond the line of wagons--a man clad in +well-fitting tweeds cut for riding. His gloves seemed neat, his boots +equally neat, his general appearance immaculate as that of the young +lady whom he approached. I imagine it was the same swift male jealousy +which affected both Belknap and myself as we saw Gordon Orme! + +"Yes, there is your friend, the Englishman," said Belknap rather +bitterly. + +"I meet him everywhere," I answered. "The thing is simply uncanny. What +is he doing out here?" + +"We are taking him out to Laramie with us. He has letters to Colonel +Meriwether, it seems. Cowles, what do you know about that man?" + +"Nothing," said I, "except that he purports to come from the English +Army." + +"I wish that he had stayed in the English Army, and not come bothering +about ours. He's prowling about every military Post he can get into." + +"With a special reference to Army officers born in the South?" I looked +Belknap full in the eye. + +"There's something in that," he replied. "I don't like the look of it. +These are good times for every man to attend to his own business." + +As Orme stood chatting with the young woman, both Belknap and I turned +away. A moment later I ran across my former friend, Mandy McGovern. In +her surprise she stopped chewing tobacco, when her eyes fell on me, but +she quickly came to shake me by the hand. + +"Well, I dee-clare to gracious!" she began, "if here ain't the man I met +on the boat! How'd you git away out here ahead of us? Have you saw airy +buffeler? I'm gettin' plumb wolfish fer something to shoot at. Where all +you goin', anyhow? An' whut you doin' out here?" + +What I was doing at that precise moment, as I must confess, was taking a +half unconscious look once more toward the tail of the ambulance, where +Orme and the young woman stood chatting. But it was at this time that +Orme first saw or seemed to see me. He left the ambulance and came +rapidly forward. + +"By Jove!" he said, "here you are again! Am I your shadow, Mr. Cowles, +or are you mine? It is really singular how we meet. I'm awfully glad to +meet you, although I don't in the least see how you've managed to get +here ahead of us." + +Belknap by this time had turned away about his duties, and Orme and I +spoke for a few minutes. I explained to him the changes of my plans +which had been brought about by the accident to the _River Belle_. +"Lieutenant Belknap tells me that you are going through to Laramie with +him," I added. "As it chances, we have the same errand--it is my purpose +also to call on Colonel Meriwether there, in case we do not meet him +coming down." + +"How extraordinary! Then we'll be fellow travelers for a time, and I +hope have a little sport together. Fine young fellow, Belknap. And I +must say that his men, although an uncommonly ragged looking lot and +very far from smart as soldiers, have rather a workmanlike way about +them, after all." + +"Yes, I think they would fight," I remarked, coolly. "And from the look +of things, they may have need to." I told him then of what he had +discovered at the station house near by, and added the caution not to +mention it about the camp. Orme's eyes merely brightened with interest. +Anything like danger or adventure had appeal to him. I said to him that +he seemed to me more soldier than preacher, but he only laughed and +evaded. + +"You'll eat at our mess to-night, of course" said he. "That's our fire +just over there, and I'm thinking the cook is nearly ready. There comes +Belknap now." + +Thus, it may be seen, the confusion of these varied meetings had kept me +from learning the name or identity of the late passenger of the +ambulance. I presume both Orme and Belknap supposed that the young lady +and I had met before we took our places on the ground at the edge of the +blanket which served as a table. She was seated as I finally approached, +and her face was turned aside as she spoke to the camp cook, with whom +she seemed on the best of terms. "Hurry, Daniels," she called out. "I'm +absolutely starved to death!" + +There was something in her voice which sounded familiar to me, and I +sought a glance at her face, which the next instant was hid by the rim +of her hat as she looked down, removing her long gloves. At least I saw +her hands--small hands, sun-browned now. On one finger was a plain gold +ring, with a peculiar setting--the figure of a rose, carved deep into +the gold! + +"After all," thought I to myself, "there are some things which can not +be duplicated. Among these, hair like this, a profile like this, a +figure like this." I gazed in wonder, then in certainty. + +No there was no escaping the conclusion. This was not another girl, but +the same girl seen again. A moment's reflection showed how possible and +indeed natural this might be. My chance companion in the river accident +had simply gone on up the river a little farther and then started west +precisely as Mandy McGovern had explained. + +Belknap caught the slight restraint as the girl and I both raised our +eyes. "Oh, I say, why--what in the world--Mr. Cowles, didn't you--that +is, haven't you--" + +"No," said I, "I haven't and didn't, I think. But I think also--" + +The girl's face was a trifle flushed, but her eyes were merry. "Yes," +said she, "I think Mr. Cowles and I have met once before." She slightly +emphasized the word "once," as I noticed. + +"But still I may remind you all, gentlemen," said I, "that I have not +yet heard this lady's name, and am only guessing, of course, that it is +Miss Meriwether, whom you are taking out to Laramie." + +"Why, of course," said Belknap, and "of course," echoed everybody else. +My fair _vis-a-vis_ looked me now full in the face and smiled, so that a +dimple in her right cheek was plainly visible. + +"Yes," said she, "I'm going on out to join my father on the front. This +is my second time across, though. Is it your first, Mr. Cowles?" + +"My first; and I am very lucky. You know, I also am going out to meet +your father, Miss Meriwether." + +"How singular!" She put down her tin cup of coffee on the blanket. + +"My father was an associate of Colonel Meriwether in some business +matters back in Virginia--" + +"Oh, I know--it's about the coal lands, that are going to make us all +rich some day. Yes, I know about that; though I think your father rarely +came over into Albemarle." + +Under the circumstances I did not care to intrude my personal matters, +so I did not mention the cause or explain the nature of my mission in +the West. "I suppose that you rarely came into our county either, but +went down the Shenandoah when you journeyed to Washington?" I said +simply, "I myself have never met Colonel Meriwether." + +All this sudden acquaintance and somewhat intimate relation between us +two seemed to afford no real pleasure either to Belknap or Orme. For my +part, with no clear reason in the world, it seemed to me that both +Belknap and Orme were very detestable persons. Had the framing of this +scene been left utterly to me, I should have had none present at the +fireside save myself and Ellen Meriwether. All these wide gray plains, +faintly tinged in the hollows with green, and all this sweeping sky of +blue, and all this sparkling river, should have been just for ourselves +and no one else. + +But my opportunity came in due course, after all. As we rose from the +ground at the conclusion of our meal, the girl dropped one of her +gloves. I hastened to pick it up, walking with her a few paces +afterward. + +"The next time we are shipwrecked together," said I, "I shall leave you +on the boat. You do not know your friends!" + +"Why do you say that?" + +"And yet I knew you at once. I saw the ring on your hand, and recognized +it--it is the same I saw in the firelight on the river bank, the night +we left the _Belle_." + +"How brilliant of you! At least you can remember a ring." + +"I remember seeing the veil you wear once before--at a certain little +meeting between Mr. Orme and myself." + +"You seem to have been a haberdasher in your time, Mr. Cowles! Your +memory of a lady's wearing apparel is very exact. I should feel very +much nattered." None the less I saw the dimple come in her cheek. + +She was pulling on her glove as she spoke. I saw embroidered on the +gauntlet the figure of a red heart. + +"My memory is still more exact in the matter of apparel," said I. "Miss +Meriwether, is this your emblem indeed--this red heart? It seems to me I +have also seen _it_ somewhere before!" + +The dimple deepened. "When Columbus found America," she answered, "it is +said that the savages looked up and remarked to him, 'Ah, we see we are +discovered!'" + +"Yes," said I, "you are fully discovered--each of you--all of you, all +three or four of you, Miss _Ellen Meriwether_." + +"But you did not know it until now--until this very moment. You did not +know me--could not remember me--not even when the masks were off! Ah, it +was good as a play!" + +"I have done nothing else but remember you." + +"How much I should value your acquaintance, Mr. Cowles of Virginia! How +rare an opportunity you have given me of seeing on the inside of a man's +heart." She spoke half bitterly, and I saw that in one way or other she +meant revenge. + +"I do not understand you," I rejoined. + +"No, I suppose you men are all alike--that any one of you would do the +same. It is only the last girl, the nearest girl, that is remembered. Is +it not so?" + +"It is not so," I answered. + +"How long will you remember me this time--me or my clothes, Mr. Cowles? +Until you meet another?" + +"All my life," I said; "and until I meet you again, in some other +infinite variety. Each last time that I see you makes me forget all the +others; but never once have I forgotten _you_." + +"In my experience," commented the girl, sagely, "all men talk very much +alike." + +"Yes, I told you at the masked ball," said I, "that sometime I would see +you, masks off. Was it not true? I did not at first know you when you +broke up my match with Orme, but I swore that sometime I would know you. +And when I saw you that night on the river, it seemed to me I certainly +must have met you before--have known you always--and now--" + +"You had to study my rings and clothing to identify me with myself!" + +"But you flatter me when you say that you knew me each time," I +ventured. "I am glad that I have given you no occasion to prove the +truth of your own statement, that I, like other men, am interested only +in the last girl, the nearest girl. You have had no reason--" + +"My experience with men," went on this sage young person, "leads me to +believe that they are the stupidest of all created creatures. There was +never once, there is never once, when a girl does not notice a man who +is--well, who is taking notice!" + +"Very well, then," I broke out, "I admit it! I did take notice of four +different girls, one after the other--but it was because each of them +was fit to wipe out the image of all the others--and of all the others +in the world." + +This was going far. I was a young man. I urge no more excuse. I am +setting down simply the truth, as I have promised. + +The girl looked about, gladly, I thought, at the sound of a shuffling +step approaching. "You, Aunt Mandy?" she called out. And to me, "I must +say good-night, sir." + +I turned away moodily, and found the embers of the fire at my own camp. +Not far away I could hear the stamp of horses, the occasional sound of +low voices and of laughter, where some of the enlisted men were grouped +upon the ground. The black blur made by the wagon stockade and a tent or +so was visible against the lighter line of the waterway of the Platte. +Night came down, brooding with its million stars. I could hear the +voices of the wolves calling here and there. It was a scene wild and +appealing. I was indeed, it seemed to me, in a strange new world, where +all was young, where everything was beginning. Where was the old world I +had left behind me? + +I rolled into my blankets, but I could not sleep. The stars were too +bright, the wind too full of words, the sweep of the sky too strong. I +shifted the saddle under my head, and turned and turned, but I could not +rest. I looked up again into the eye of my cold, reproving star. + +But now, to my surprise and horror, when I looked into the eye of my +monitor, my own eye would not waver nor admit subjection! I rebelled at +my own conscience. I, John Cowles, had all my life been a strong man. I +had wrestled with any who came, fought with any who asked it, matched +with any man on any terms he named. Conflict was in my blood, and always +I had fought blithely. But never with sweat like this on my forehead! +Never with fear catching at my heart! Never with the agony of +self-reproach assailing me! Now, to-night, I was meeting the strongest +antagonist of all my life, the only one I had ever feared. + +It was none other than I myself, that other John Cowles, young man, and +now loose in the vast, free, garden of living. + +Yet I fought with myself. I tried to banish her face from my heart--with +all my might, and all my conscience, and all my remaining principles, I +did try. I called up to mind my promises, my duties, my honor. But none +of these would put her face away. I tried to forget the softness of her +voice, the fragrance of her hair, the sweetness of her body once held in +my arms, all the vague charm of woman, the enigma, the sphinx, the +mystery-magnet of the world, the charm that has no analysis, that knows +no formula; but I could not forget. A rage filled me against all the +other men in the world. I have said I would set down the truth. The +truth is that I longed to rise and roar in my throat, challenging all +the other men in the world. In truth it was my wish to stride over +there, just beyond, into the darkness, to take this woman by the +shoulders and tell her what was in my blood and in my heart--even though +I must tell her even in bitterness and self-reproach. + +It was not the girl to whom I was pledged and plighted, not she to whom +I was bound in honor--that was not the one with the fragrant hair and +the eyes of night, and the clear-cut face, and the graciously +deep-bosomed figure--that was not the one. It was another, of infinite +variety, one more irresistible with each change, that had set on this +combat between me and my own self. + +I beat my fists upon the earth. All that I could say to myself was that +she was sweet, sweet, and wonderful--here in the mystery of this wide, +calm, inscrutable desert that lay all about, in a world young and strong +and full of the primeval lusts of man. + + + + +CHAPTER XVI + +BUFFALO! + + +Before dawn had broken, the clear bugle notes of reveille sounded and +set the camp astir. Presently the smokes of the cook fires arose, and in +the gray light we could see the horse-guards bringing in the mounts. By +the time the sun was faintly tinging the edge of the valley we were +drawn up for hot coffee and the plain fare of the prairies. A half hour +later the wagon masters called "Roll out! Roll out!" The bugles again +sounded for the troopers to take saddle, and we were under way once +more. + +Thus far we had seen very little game in our westward journeying, a few +antelope and occasional wolves, but none of the herds of buffalo which +then roamed the Western plains. The monotony of our travel was to be +broken now. We had hardly gone five miles beyond the ruined station +house--which we passed at a trot, so that none might know what had +happened there--when we saw our advance men pull up and raise their +hands. We caught it also--the sound of approaching hoofs, and all joined +in the cry, "Buffalo! Buffalo!" In an instant every horseman was +pressing forward. + +The thunderous rolling sound approached, heavy as that of artillery +going into action. We saw dust arise from the mouth of a little draw on +the left, running down toward the valley, and even as we turned there +came rolling from its mouth, with the noise of a tornado and the might +of a mountain torrent, a vast, confused, dark mass, which rapidly +spilled out across the valley ahead of us. Half hid in the dust of their +going, we could see great dark bulks rolling and tossing. Thus it was, +and close at hand, that I saw for the first time in my life these huge +creatures whose mission seemed to have been to support an uncivilized +people, and to make possible the holding by another race of those lands +late held as savage harvest grounds. + +We were almost at the flanks of the herd before they reached the river +bank. We were among them when they paused stupidly, for some reason not +wishing to cross the stream. The front ranks rolled back upon those +behind, which, crowded from the rear, resisted. The whole front of the +mass wrinkled up mightily, dark humps arising in some places two or +three deep. Then the entire mass sensed the danger all at once, and with +as much unanimity as they had lacked concert in their late confusion, +they wheeled front and rear, and rolled off up the valley, still +enveloped in a cloud of white, biting dust. + +In such a chase speed and courage of one's horse are the main +essentials. My horse, luckily for me, was able to lay me alongside my +game within a few hundred yards. I coursed close to a big black bull +and, obeying injunctions old Auberry had often given me, did not touch +the trigger until I found I was holding well forward and rather low. I +could scarcely hear the crack of the rifle, such was the noise of hoofs, +but I saw the bull switch his tail and push on as though unhurt, in +spite of the trickle of red which sprung on his flank. As I followed +on, fumbling for a pistol at my holster, the bull suddenly turned, head +down and tail stiffly erect, his mane bristling. My horse sprang aside, +and the herd passed on. The old bull, his head lowered, presently +stopped, deliberately eying us, and a moment later he deliberately lay +down, presently sinking lower, and at length rolled over dead. + +I got down, fastening my horse to one of the horns of the dead bull. As +I looked up the valley, I could see others dismounted, and many vast +dark blotches on the gray. Here and there, where the pursuers still hung +on, blue smoke was cutting through the white. Certainly we would have +meat that day, enough and far more than enough. The valley was full of +carcasses, product of the wasteful white man's hunting. Later I learned +that old Mandy, riding a mule astride, had made the run and killed a +buffalo with her own rifle! + +I found the great weight of the bull difficult to turn, but at length I +hooked one horn into the ground, and laying hold of the lower hind leg, +I actually turned the carcass on its back. I was busy skinning when my +old friend Auberry rode up. + +"That's the first time I ever saw a bull die on his back," said he. + +"He did not die on his back," I replied. "I turned him over." + +"You did--and alone? It's rarely a single man could do that, nor have I +seen it done in all my life with so big a bull." + +I laughed at him. "It was easy. My father and I once lifted a loaded +wagon out of the mud." + +"The Indians," said Auberry, "don't bother to turn a bull over. They +split the hide down the back, and skin both ways. The best meat is on +top, anyhow"; and then he gave me lessons in buffalo values, which later +I remembered. + +We had taken some meat from my bull, since I insisted upon it in spite +of better beef from a young cow Auberry had killed not far above, when +suddenly I heard the sound of a bugle, sharp and clear, and recognized +the notes of the "recall." The sergeant of our troop, with a small +number who did not care to hunt, had been left behind by Belknap's +hurried orders. Again and again we heard the bugle call, and now at once +saw coming down the valley the men of our little command. + +"What's up?" inquired Auberry, as we pulled up our galloping horses near +the wagon line. + +"Indians!" was the answer. "Fall in!" In a moment most of our men were +gathered at the wagon line, and like magic the scene changed. + +We could all now see coming down from a little flattened coulee to the +left, a head of a line of mounted men, who doubtless had been the cause +of the buffalo stampede which had crossed in front of us. The shouts of +teamsters and the crack of whips punctuated the crunch of wheels as our +wagons swiftly swung again into stockade. The ambulance was hurriedly +driven into the center of the heavier wagons, which formed in a rude +half circle. + +After all, there seemed no immediate danger. The column of the tribesmen +came on toward us fearlessly, as though they neither dreaded us nor +indeed recognized us. They made a long calvacade, two hundred horses or +more, with many travaux and dogs trailing on behind. They were all clad +in their native finery, seemingly hearty and well fed, and each as +arrogant as a king. They passed us contemptuously, with not a sidelong +glance. + +In advance of the head men who rode foremost in the column were three or +four young women, bearing long lance shafts decorated with feathers and +locks of human hair, the steel tips shining gray in the sun. These young +women, perhaps not squires or heralds of the tribe, but wives of one or +more of the head men, were decorated with brass and beads and shining +things, their hair covered with gauds, their black eyes shining too, +though directed straight ahead. Their garb was of tanned leather, the +tunics or dresses were of elk skin, and the white leggins of antelope +hide or that of mountain sheep. Their buffalo hide moccasins were +handsomely beaded and stained. As they passed, followed by the long +train of stalwart savage figures, they made a spectacle strange and +savage, but surely not less than impressive. + +Not a word was spoken on either side. The course of their column took +them to the edge of the water a short distance above us. They drove +their horses down to drink scrambled up the bank again, and then +presently, in answer to some sort of signal, quietly rode on a quarter +of a mile or so and pulled up at the side of the valley. They saw +abundance of meat lying there already killed, and perhaps guessed that +we could not use all of it. + +"Auberry," said Belknap, "we must go talk to these people, and see +what's up." + +"They're Sioux!" said Auberry. "Like enough the very devils that cleaned +out the station down there. But come on; they don't mean fight right +now." + +Belknap and Auberry took with them the sergeant and a dozen troopers. I +pushed in with these, and saw Orme at my side; and Belknap did not send +us back. We four rode on together presently. Two or three hundred yards +from the place where the Indians halted, Auberry told Belknap to halt +his men. We four, with one private to hold our horses, rode forward a +hundred yards farther, halted and raised our hands in sign of peace. +There rode out to us four of the head men of the Sioux, beautifully +dressed, each a stalwart man. We dismounted, laid down our weapons on +the ground, and approached each other. + +"Watch them close, boys," whispered Auberry. "They've got plenty of +irons around them somewhere, and plenty of scalps, too, maybe." + +"Talk to them, Auberry," said Belknap; and as the former was the only +one of us who understood the Sioux tongue, he acted as interpreter. + +"What are the Sioux doing so far east?" he asked of their spokesman, +sternly. + +"Hunting," answered the Sioux, as Auberry informed us. "The white +soldiers drive away our buffalo. The white men kill too many. Let them +go. This is our country." It seemed to me I could see the black eyes of +the Sioux boring straight through every one of us, glittering, not in +the least afraid. + +"Go back to the north and west, where you belong," said Auberry. "You +have no business here on the wagon trails." + +"The Sioux hunt where they please," was the grim answer. "But you see we +have our women and children with us, the same as you have--and he +pointed toward our camp, doubtless knowing the personnel of our party as +well as we did ourselves. + +"Where are you going?" asked our interpreter. + +The Sioux waved his arm vaguely. "Heap hunt," he said, in broken English +now. "Where you go?" he asked, in return. + +Auberry was also a diplomat, and answered that we were going a half +sleep to the west, to meet a big war party coming down the Platte, the +white men from Laramie. + +The Indian looked grave at this. "Is that so?" he asked, calmly. "I had +not any word from my young men about a war party coming down the river. +Many white tepees on wheels going up the river; no soldiers coming down +this way." + +"We are going on up to meet our soldiers," said Auberry, sternly. "The +Sioux have killed some of our men below here. We shall meet our soldiers +and come and wipe the Sioux off the land if they come into the valley +where our great road runs west." + +"That is good," said the Sioux. "As for us, we harm no white man. We +hunt where we please. White men go!" + +Auberry now turned to us. "I don't think they mean trouble, Lieutenant," +he said, "and I think the best thing we can do is to let them alone and +go on up the valley. Let's go on and pull on straight by them, the way +they did us, and call it a draw all around." + +Belknap nodded, and Auberry turned again to the four Sioux, who stood +tall and motionless, looking at us with the same fixed, glittering eyes. +I shall remember the actors in that little scene so long as I live. + +"We have spoken," said Auberry. "That is all we have to say." + +Both parties turned and went back to their companions. Belknap, Auberry +and I had nearly reached our waiting troopers, when we missed Orme, and +turned back to see where he was. He was standing close to the four +chiefs, who had by this time reached their horses. Orme was leading by +the bridle his own horse, which was slightly lame from a strain received +in the hunt. + +"Some buck'll slip an arrer into him, if he don't look out," said +Auberry. "He's got no business out there." + +We saw Orme making some sort of gestures, pointing to his horse and the +others. + +"Wonder if he wants to trade horses!" mused Auberry, chuckling. Then in +the same breath he called, "Look out! By God! Look!" + +We all saw it. Orme's arm shot out straight, tipped by a blue puff of +smoke, and we heard the crack of the dragoon pistol. One of the Sioux, +the chief who by this time had mounted his horse, threw his hand against +his chest and leaned slightly back, then straightened up slightly as he +sat. As he fell, or before he fell, Orme pushed his body clear from the +saddle, and with a leap was in the dead man's place and riding swiftly +toward us, leading his own horse by the rein! + +It seemed that it was the Sioux who had kept faith after all; for none +of the remaining three could find a weapon. Orme rode up laughing and +unconcerned. "The beggar wouldn't trade with me at all," he said. "By +Jove, I believe he'd have got me if he'd had any sort of tools for it." + +"You broke treaty!" ejaculated Belknap--"you broke the council word." + +"Did that man make the first break at you?" Auberry blazed at him. + +"How can I tell?" answered Orme, coolly. "It's well to be a trifle ahead +in such matters." He seemed utterly unconcerned. He could kill a man as +lightly as a rabbit, and think no more about it. + +Within the instant the entire party of the Sioux was in confusion. We +saw them running about, mounting, heard them shouting and wailing. + +"It's fight now!" said Auberry. "Back to the wagons now and get your men +ready, Lieutenant. As soon as the Sioux can get shut of their women, +they'll come on, and come a boilin', too. You damned fool!" he said to +Orme. "You murdered that man!" + +"What's that, my good fellow?" said Orme, sharply. "Now I advise you to +keep a civil tongue in your head, or I'll teach you some manners." + +Even as we swung and rode back, Auberry pushed alongside Orme, his rifle +at ready. "By God! man, if you want to teach _me_ any manners, begin it +now. You make your break," he cried. + +Belknap spurred in between them. "Here, you men," he commanded with +swift sternness. "Into your places. I'm in command here, and I'll shoot +the first man who raises a hand. Mr. Orme, take your place at the +wagons. Auberry, keep with me. We'll have fighting enough without +anything of this." + +"He murdered that Sioux, Lieutenant," reiterated Auberry. + +"Damn it, sir, I know he did, but this is no time to argue about that. +Look there!" + +A long, ragged, parti-colored line, made up of the squaws and children +of the party, was whipping up the sides of the rough bluffs on the left +of the valley. We heard wailing, the barking of dogs, the crying of +children. We saw the Sioux separate thus into two bands, the men +remaining behind riding back and forth, whooping and holding aloft their +weapons. We heard the note of a dull war drum beating the clacking of +their rattles and the shrill notes of their war whistles. + +"They'll fight," said Auberry. "Look at 'em!" + +"Here they come," said Belknap, coolly. "Get down, men." + +[Illustration: AT EVERY TURN FORCED TO HIDE THEIR TRACKS] + + + + +CHAPTER XVII + +SIOUX! + + +The record of this part of my life comes to me sometimes as a series of +vivid pictures. I can see this picture now--the wide gray of the flat +valley, edged with green at the coulee mouths; the sandy spots where the +wind had worked at the foot of the banks; the dotted islands out in the +shimmering, shallow river. I can see again, under the clear, sweet, +quiet sky, the picture of those painted men--their waving lances, their +swaying bodies as they reached for the quivers across their shoulders. I +can see the loose ropes trailing at the horses' noses, and see the light +leaning forward of the red and yellow and ghastly white-striped and +black-stained bodies, and the barred black of the war paint on their +faces. I feel again, so much almost that my body swings in unison, the +gathering stride of the ponies cutting the dust into clouds. I see the +color and the swiftness of it all, and feel its thrill, the strength and +tenseness of it all. And again I feel, as though it were to-day, the +high, keen, pleasant resolution which came to me. We had women with us. +Whether this young woman was now to die or not, none of us men would see +it happen. + +They came on, massed as I have said, to within about two hundred and +fifty yards, then swung out around us, their horse line rippling up over +the broken ground apparently as easily as it had gone on the level floor +of the valley. Still we made no volley fire. I rejoiced to see the cool +pallor of Belknap's face, and saw him brave and angry to the core. Our +plainsmen, too, were grim, though eager; and our little band of cavalry, +hired fighters, rose above that station and became not mongrel private +soldiers, but Anglo-Saxons each. They lay or knelt or stood back of the +wagon line, imperturbable as wooden men, and waited for the order to +fire, though meantime two of them dropped, hit by chance bullets from +the wavering line of horsemen that now encircled us. + +"Tell us when to fire, Auberry," I heard Belknap say, for he had +practically given over the situation to the old plainsman. At last I +heard the voice of Auberry, changed from that of an old man into the +quick, clear accents of youth, sounding hard and clear. "Ready now! Each +fellow pick his own man, and kill him, d'ye hear, _kill_ him!" + +We had no further tactics. Our fire began to patter and crackle. Our +troopers were armed with the worthless old Spencer carbines, and I doubt +if these did much execution; but there were some good old Hawkin rifles +and old big-bored Yagers and more modern Sharps' rifles and other +buffalo guns of one sort or another with us, among the plainsmen and +teamsters; and when these spoke there came breaks in the flaunting line +that sought to hedge us. The Sioux dropped behind their horses' bodies, +firing as they rode, some with rifles, more with bows and arrows. Most +of our work was done as they topped the rough ground close on our left, +and we saw here a half-dozen bodies lying limp, flat and ragged, though +presently other riders came and dragged them away. + +The bow and arrow is no match for the rifle behind barricades; but when +the Sioux got behind us they saw that our barricade was open in the +rear, and at this they whooped and rode in closer. At a hundred yards +their arrows fell extraordinarily close to the mark, and time and again +they spiked our mules and horses with these hissing shafts that quivered +where they struck. They came near breaking our rear in this way, for our +men fell into confusion, the horses and mules plunging and trying to +break away. There were now men leaning on their elbows, blood dripping +from their mouths. There were cries, sounding far away, inconsequent to +us still standing. The whir of many arrows came, and we could hear them +chuck into the woodwork of the wagons, into the leather of saddle and +harness, and now and again into something that gave out a softer, +different sound. + +I was crowding a ball down my rifle with its hickory rod when I felt a +shove at my arm and heard a voice at my ear. "Git out of the way, +man--how can I see how to shoot if you bob your head acrost my sights +all the time?" + +There stood old Mandy McGovern, her long brown rifle half raised, her +finger lying sophisticatedly along the trigger guard, that she might not +touch the hair trigger. She was as cool as any man in the line, and as +deadly. As I finished reloading, I saw her hard, gray face drop as she +crooked her elbow and settled to the sights--saw her swing as though she +were following a running deer; and then at the crack of her piece I saw +a Sioux drop out of his high-peaked saddle. Mandy turned to the rear. + +"Git in here, git in here, son!" I heard her cry. And to my wonder now I +saw the long, lean figure of Andrew Jackson McGovern come forward, a +carbine clutched in his hand, while from his mouth came some sort of +eerie screech of incipient courage, which seemed to give wondrous +comfort to his fierce dam. At about this moment one of the Sioux, +mortally wounded by our fire, turned his horse and ran straight toward +us hard as he could go. He knew that he must die, and this was his +way--ah, those red men knew how to die. He got within forty yards, +reeling and swaying, but still trying to fit an arrow to the string, and +as none of us would fire on him now, seeing that he was dying, for a +moment it looked as though he would ride directly into us, and perhaps +do some harm. Then I heard the boom of the boy's carbine, and almost at +the instant, whether by accident or not I could not tell, I saw the red +man drop out of the forks of his saddle and roll on the ground with his +arms spread out. + +Perhaps never was metamorphosis more complete than that which now took +place. Shaking off detaining hands, Andrew Jackson sprang from our line, +ran up to the fallen foe and in a frenzy of rage began to belabor and +kick his body, winding up by catching him by the hair and actually +dragging him some paces toward our firing line! An expression of +absolute beatitude spread over the countenance of Mandy McGovern. She +called out as though he were a young dog at his first fight. "Whoopee! +Git to him, boy, git to him! Take him, boy! Whoopee!" + +We got Andrew Jackson back into the ranks. His mother stepped to him and +took him by the hand, as though for the first time she recognized him as +a man. + +"Now, boy, _that's_ somethin' _like_." Presently she turned to me. "Some +says it's in the Paw," she remarked. "I reckon it's some in the Maw; an' +a leetle in the trainin'." + +Cut up badly by our fire, the Sioux scattered and hugged the shelter of +the river bank, beyond which they rode along the sand or in the shallow +water, scrambling up the bank after they had gotten out of fire. Our men +were firing less, frequently at the last of the line, who came swiftly +down from the bluff and charged across behind us, sending in a +scattering flight of arrows as they rode. + +I looked about me now at the interior of our barricade. I saw Ellen +Meriwether on her knees, lifting the shoulders of a wounded man who lay +back, his hair dropping from his forehead, now gone bluish gray. She +pulled him to the shelter of a wagon, where there had been drawn four +others of the wounded. I saw tears falling from her eyes--saw the same +pity on her face which I had noted once before when a wounded creature +lay in her hands. I had been proud of Mandy McGovern. I was proud of +Ellen Meriwether now. They were two generations of our women, the women +of America, whom may God ever have in his keeping. + +I say I had turned my head; but almost as I did so I felt a sudden jar +as though some one had taken a board and struck me over the head with +all his might. Then, as I slowly became aware, my head was utterly and +entirely detached from my body, and went sailing off, deliberately, in +front of me. I could see it going distinctly, and yet, oddly enough, I +could also see a sudden change come on the face of the girl who was +stooping before me, and who at the moment raised her eyes. + +"It is strange," thought I, "but my head, thus detached, is going to +pass directly above her, right there!" + +Then I ceased to take interest in anything, and sank back into the arms +of that from which we come, calmly taking bold of the hand of Mystery. + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII + +THE TEST + + +I awoke, I knew not how much later, into a world which at first had a +certain warm comfort and languid luxury about it. Then I felt a sharp +wrenching and a great pain in my neck, to which it seemed my departed +head had, after all, returned. Stimulated by this pain, I turned and +looked up into the face of Auberry. He stood frowning, holding in his +hand a feathered arrow shaft of willow, grooved along its sides to let +the blood run free, sinew-wrapped to hold its feathers tight--a typical +arrow of the buffalo tribes. But, as I joined Auberry's gaze, I saw the +arrow was headless! Dully I argued that, therefore, this head must be +somewhere in my neck. I also saw that the sun was bright. I realized +that there must have been a fight of some sort, but did not trouble to +know whence the arrow had come to me, for my mind could grasp nothing +more than simple things. + +Thus I felt that my head was not uncomfortable, after all. I looked +again, and saw that it rested on Ellen Meriwether's knees. She sat on +the sand, gently stroking my forehead, pushing back the hair. She had +turned my head so that the wound would not be pressed. It seemed to me +that her voice sounded very far away and quiet. + +"We are thinking," said she to me. I nodded as best I could. "Has +anything happened?" I asked. + +"They have gone," said she. "We whipped them." Her hand again lightly +pressed my forehead. + +I heard some one else say, behind me, "But we have nothing in the +world--not even opium." + +"True," said another voice, which I recognized as that of Orme; "but +that's his one chance." + +"What do you know about surgery?" asked the first voice, which I knew +now was Belknap's. + +"More than most doctors," was the answer, with a laugh. Their voices +grew less distinguishable, but presently I heard Orme say, "Yes, I'm +game to do it, if the man says so." Then he came and stooped down beside +me. + +"Mr. Cowles," said he, "you're rather badly off. That arrow head ought +to come out, but the risk of going after it is very great. I am willing +to do what you say. If you decide that you would like me to operate for +it, I will do so. It's only right for me to tell you that it lies very +close to the carotid artery, and that it will be an extraordinarily nice +operation to get it out without--well, you know--" + +I looked up into his face, that strange face which I was now beginning +so well to know--the face of my enemy. I knew it was the face of a +murderer, a man who would have no compunction at taking a human life. + +My mind then was strangely clear. I saw his glance at the girl. I saw, +as clearly as though he had told me, that this man was as deeply in love +with Ellen Meriwether as I myself; that he would win her if he could; +that his chance was as good as mine, even if we were both at our best. I +knew there was nothing at which he would hesitate, unless some strange +freak in his nature might influence him, such freaks as come to the +lightning, to the wild beast slaying, changes for no reason ever known. +Remorse, mercy, pity, I knew did not exist for him. But with a flash it +came to my mind that this was all the better, if he must now serve as my +surgeon. + +He looked into my eye, and I returned his gaze, scorning to ask him not +to take advantage of me, now that I was fallen. His own eye changed. It +asked of me, as though he spoke: "Are you, then, game to the core? Shall +I admire you and give you another chance, or shall I kill you now?" I +say that I saw, felt, read all this in his mind. I looked up into his +face, and said: + +"You cannot kill me. I am not going to die. Go on. Soon, then." + +A sort of sigh broke from his lips, as though he felt content. I do not +think it was because he found his foe a worthy one. I do not think he +considered me either as his foe or his friend or his patient. He was +simply about to do something which would test his own nerve, his own +resources, something which, if successful, would allow him to approve +his own belief in himself. I say that this was merely sport for him. I +knew he would not turn his hand to save my life; but also I knew that he +would not cost it if that could be avoided, for that would mean +disappointment to himself. What he did he did well. I said then to +myself that I would pay him if he brought me through--pay him in some +way. + +Presently I heard them on the sand again, and I saw him come again and +bend over me. All the instruments they could find had been a razor and a +keen penknife; and all they could secure to staunch the blood was some +water, nearly boiling. For forceps Orme had a pair of bullet molds, and +these he cleansed as best he could by dipping them into the hot water. + +"Cowles," he said, in a matter-of-fact voice, "I'm going after it. But +now I tell you one thing frankly, it's life or death, and if you move +your head it may mean death at once. That iron's lying against the big +carotid artery. If it hasn't broken the artery wall, there's a ghost of +a chance we can get it out safely, in which case you would probably pull +through. I've got to open the neck and reach in. I'll do it as fast as I +can. Now, I'm not going to think of you, and, gad!--if you can help +it--please don't think of me." + +Ellen Meriwether had not spoken. She still held my head in her lap. + +"Are you game--can you do this, Miss Meriwether?" I heard Orme ask. She +made no answer that I could hear, but must have nodded. I felt her hands +press my head more tightly. I turned my face down and kissed her hand. +"I will not move," I said. + +I saw Orme's slender, naked wrist pass to my face and gently turn me +into the position desired, with my face down and a little at one side, +resting in her lap above her knees. Her skirt was already wet with the +blood of the wound, and where my head lay it was damp with blood. +Belknap took my hands and pulled them above my head, squatting beyond +me. Between Orme's legs as he stooped I could see the dead body of a +mule, I remember, and back of that the blue sky I and the sand dunes. +Unknown to her, I kissed the hem of her garment; and then I said a short +appeal to the Mystery. + +I felt the entrance of the knife or razor blade, felt keenly the pain +when the edge lifted and stretched the skin tight before the tough hide +of my neck parted smoothly in a long line. Then I felt something warm +settle under my cheek as I lay, and I felt a low shiver, whether of my +body or that of the girl who held me I could not tell; but her hands +were steady. I felt about me an infinite kindness and carefulness and +pitying--oh, then I learned that life, after all, is not wholly +war--that there is such a thing as fellow-suffering and loving kindness +and a wish to aid others to survive in this hard fight of living; I knew +that very well. But I did not gain it from the touch of my surgeon's +hands. + +The immediate pain of this long cutting which laid open my neck for some +inches through the side muscles was less after the point of the blade +went through and ceased to push forward. Deeper down I did not feel so +much, until finally a gentle searching movement produced a jar strangely +large, something which grated, and nearly sent all the world black +again. I knew then that the knife was on the base of the arrow head; +then I could feel it move softly and gently along the side of the arrow +head--I could almost see it creep along in this delicate part of the +work. + +Then, all at once, I felt one hand removed from my neck. Orme, half +rising from his stooping posture, but with the fingers of his left hand +still at the wound, said: "Belknap, let go one of his hands. Just put +your hand on this knife-blade, and feel that artery throb! Isn't it +curious?" + +I heard some muttered answer, but the grasp at my wrists did not relax. +"Oh, it's all right now," calmly went on Orme, again stooping. "I +thought you might be interested. It's all over now but pulling out the +head." + +I felt again a shiver run through the limbs of the girl. Perhaps she +turned away her head, I do not know. I felt Orme's fingers spreading +widely the sides of the wound along the neck, and the boring of the big +headed bullet molds as they went down after a grip, their impact +softened by the finger extended along the blade knife. + +The throbbing artery whose location this man knew so well was protected. +Gently feeling down, the tips of the mold got their grip at last, and an +instant later I felt release from a certain stiff pressure which I had +experienced in my neck. Relief came, then a dizziness and much pain. A +hand patted me twice on the back of the neck. + +"All right, my man," said Orme. "All over; and jolly well done, too, if +I do say it myself!" + +Belknap put his arm about me and helped me to sit up. I saw Orme holding +out the stained arrow head, long and thin, in his fingers. + +"Would you like it?" he said. + +"Yes," said I, grinning. And I confess I have it now somewhere about my +house. I doubt if few souvenirs exist to remind one of a scene exactly +similar. + +The girl now kept cloths wrung from the hot water on my neck. I thanked +them all as best I could. "I say, you men," remarked Mandy McGovern, +coming up with a cob-stoppered flask in her hand, half filled with a +pale yellow-white fluid, "ain't it about time for some of that thar +anarthestic I heerd you all talking about a while ago?" + +"I shouldn't wonder," said Orme. "The stitching hurts about as much as +anything. Auberry, can't you find me a bit of sinew somewhere, and +perhaps a needle of some sort?" + + + + +CHAPTER XIX + +THE QUALITY OF MERCY + + +A vast dizziness and a throbbing of the head remained after they were +quite done with me, but something of this left me when finally I sat +leaning back against the wagon body and looked about me. There were +straight, motionless figures lying under the blankets in the shade, and +under other blankets were men who writhed and moaned. Belknap passed +about the place, graver and apparently years older than at the beginning +of this, his first experience in the field. He put out burial parties at +once. A few of the Sioux, including the one on whom Andrew Jackson +McGovern had vented his new-found spleen, were covered scantily where +they lay. Our own dead were removed to the edge of the bluff; and so +more headstones, simple and rude, went to line the great pathway into +the West. + +Again Ellen Meriwether came and sat by me. She had now removed the gray +traveling gown, for reasons which I could guess, and her costume might +have been taken from a collector's chest rather than a woman's wardrobe. +All at once we seemed, all of us, to be blending with these +surroundings, becoming savage as these other savages. It might almost +have been a savage woman who came to me. + +Her skirt was short; made of white tanned antelope leather. Above it +fell the ragged edges of a native tunic or shirt of yellow buck, +ornamented with elk teeth, embroidered in stained quills. Her feet still +wore a white woman's shoes, although the short skirt was enforced by +native leggins, beaded and becylindered in metals so that she tinkled as +the walked. Her hair, now becoming yellower and more sunburned at the +ends, was piled under her felt hat, and the modishness of long +cylindrical curls was quite forgot. The brown of her cheeks, already +strongly sunburned, showed in strange contrast to the snowy white of her +neck, now exposed by the low neck aperture of the Indian tunic. Her +gloves, still fairly fresh, she wore tucked through her belt, army +fashion. I could see the red heart still, embroidered on the cuff! + +She came and sat down beside me on the ground, I say, and spoke to me. I +could not help reflecting how she was reverting, becoming savage. I +thought this--but in my heart I knew she was not savage as myself. + +"How are you coming on?" she said. "You sit up nicely--" + +"Yes, and can stand, or walk, or ride," I added. + +Her brown eyes were turned full on me. In the sunlight I could see the +dark specks in their depths. I could see every shade of tan on her face. + +"You are not to be foolish," she said. + +"You stand all this nobly," I commented presently. + +"Ah, you men--I love you, you men!" She said it suddenly and with +perfect sincerity. "I love you all--you are so strong, so full of the +desire to live, to win. It is wonderful, wonderful! Just look at those +poor boys there--some of them are dying, almost, but they won't whimper. +It is wonderful." + +"It is the Plains," I said. "They have simply learned how little a thing +is life." + +"Yet it is sweet," she said. + +"But for you, I see that you have changed again." + +She spread her leather skirt down with her hands, as though to make it +longer, and looked contemplatively at the fringed leggins below. + +"You were four different women," I mused, "and now you are another, +quite another." + +At this she frowned a bit, and rose. "You are not to talk," she said, +"nor to think that you are well; because you are not. I must go and see +the others." + +I lay back against the wagon bed, wondering in which garb she had been +most beautiful--the filmy ball dress and the mocking mask, the gray gown +and veil of the day after, the thin drapery of her hasty flight in the +night, her half conventional costume of the day before--or this, the +garb of some primeval woman. I knew I could never forget her again. The +thought gave me pain, and perhaps this showed on my face, for my eyes +followed her so that presently she turned and came back to me. + +"Does the wound hurt you?" she asked. "Are you in pain?" + +"Yes, Ellen Meriwether," I said, "I am in pain. I am in very great +pain." + +"Oh," she cried, "I am sorry! What can we do? What do you wish? But +perhaps it will not be so bad after a while--it will be over soon." + +"No, Ellen Meriwether," I said, "it will not be over soon. It will not +go away at all." + + + + +CHAPTER XX + +GORDON ORME, MAGICIAN + + +We lay in our hot camp on the sandy valley for some days, and buried two +more of our men who finally succumbed to their wounds. Gloom sat on us +all, for fever now raged among our wounded. Pests of flies by day and +mosquitoes by night became almost unbearable. The sun blistered us, the +night froze us. Still not a sign of any white-topped wagon from the +east, nor any dust-cloud of troopers from the west served to break the +monotony of the shimmering waste that lay about us on every hand. We +were growing gaunt now and haggard; but still we lay, waiting for our +men to grow strong enough to travel, or to lose all strength and so be +laid away. + +We had no touch with the civilization of the outer world. At that time +the first threads of the white man's occupancy were just beginning to +cross the midway deserts. Near by our camp ran the recently erected line +of telegraph, its shining cedar poles, stripped of their bark, offering +wonder for savage and civilized man alike, for hundreds of miles across +an uninhabited country. We could see the poles rubbed smooth at their +base by the shoulders of the buffalo. Here and there a little tuft of +hair clung to some untrimmed knot. High up in some of the naked poles we +could see still sticking, the iron shod arrows of contemptuous +tribesmen, who had thus sought to assail the "great medicine" of the +white man. We heard the wires above us humming mysteriously in the wind, +but if they bore messages east or west, we might not read them, nor +might we send any message of our own. + +At times old Auberry growled at this new feature of the landscape. "That +was not here when I first came West," he said, "and I don't like its +looks. The old ways were good enough. Now they are even talkin' of +runnin' a railroad up the valley--as though horses couldn't carry in +everything the West needs or bring out everything the East may want. No, +the old ways were good enough for me." + +Orme smiled at the old man. + +"None the less," said he, "you will see the day before long, when not +one railroad, but many, will cross these plains. As for the telegraph, +if only we had a way of tapping these wires, we might find it extremely +useful to us all right now." + +"The old ways were good enough," insisted Auberry. "As fur telegraphin', +it ain't new on these plains. The Injuns could always telegraph, and +they didn't need no poles nor wires. The Sioux may be at both ends of +this bend, for all we know. They may have cleaned up all the wagons +coming west. They have planned for a general wipin' out of the whites, +and you can be plumb certain that what has happened here is knowed all +acrost this country to-day, clean to the big bend of the Missouri, and +on the Yellowstone, and west to the Rockies." + +"How could that be?" asked Orme, suddenly, with interest. "You talk as +if there were something in this country like the old 'secret mail' of +East India, where I once lived." + +"I don't know what you mean by that," said Auberry, "but I do know that +the Injuns in this country have ways of talkin' at long range. Why, +onct a bunch of us had five men killed up on the Powder River by the +Crows. That was ten o'clock in the morning. By two in the afternoon +everyone in the Crow village, two hundred miles away, knowed all about +the fight--how many whites was killed, how many Injuns--the whole +shootin'-match. How they done it, I don't know, but they shore done it. +Any Western man knows that much about Injun ways." + +"That is rather extraordinary," commented Orme. + +"Nothin' extraordinary about it," said Auberry, "it's just common. Maybe +they done it by lookin'-glasses and smokes--fact is, I know that's one +way they use a heap. But they've got other ways of talkin'. Looks like a +Injun could set right down on a hill, and think good and hard, and some +other Injun a hundred miles away'd know what he was thinkin' about. You +talk about a prairie fire runnin' fast--it ain't nothin' to the way news +travels amongst the tribes." + +Belknap expressed his contempt for all this sort of thing, but the old +man assured him he would know more of this sort of thing when he had +been longer in the West. "I know they do telegraph," reiterated the +plainsman. + +"I can well believe that," remarked Orme, quietly. + +"Whether you do or not," said Auberry, "Injuns is strange critters. A +few of us has married among Injuns and lived among them, and we have +seen things you wouldn't believe if I told you." + +"Tell some of them," said Orme. "I, for one, might believe them." + +"Well, now," said the plainsman, "I will tell you some things I have +seen their medicine men do, and ye can believe me or not, the way ye +feel about it." + +"I have seen 'em hold a pow-wow for two or three days at a time, some of +'em settin' 'round, dreamin', as they call it all of 'em starvin', whole +camp howlin', everybody eatin' medicine herbs. Then after while, they +all come and set down just like it was right out here in the open. +Somebody pulls a naked Injun boy right out in the middle of them. Old +Mr. Medicine Man, he stands up in the plain daylight, and he draws his +bow and shoots a arrer plum through that boy. Boy squirms a heap and Mr. +Medicine Man socks another arrer through him, cool as you please--I have +seen that done. Then the medicine man steps up, cuts off the boy's head +with his knife--holds it up plain, so everybody can see it. That looked +pretty hard to me first time I ever seen it. But now the old medicine +man takes a blanket and throws it over this dead boy. He lifts up a +corner of the blanket, chucks the boy's head under it, and pulls down +the edges of the blanket and puts rocks on them. Then he begins to sing, +and the whole bunch gets up and dances 'round the blanket. After while, +say a few minutes, medicine man pulls off the blanket--and thar gets up +the boy, good as new, his head growed on good and tight as ever, and not +a sign of an arrer on him 'cept the scars where the wounds has plumb +healed up!" + +Belknap laughed long and hard at this old trapper's yarn, and weak as I +was myself, I was disposed to join him. Orme was the only one who did +not ridicule the story. Auberry himself was disgusted at the merriment. +"I knowed you wouldn't believe it," he said. "There is no use tellin' a +passel of tenderfeet anything they hain't seed for theirselves. But I +could tell you a heap more things. Why, I have seen their buffalo +callers call a thousand buffalo right in from the plains, and over the +edge of a cut bank, where they'd pitch down and bust theirselves to +pieces. I can show you bones Of a hundred such places. Buffalo don't do +that when they are alone--thay have got to be _called_, I tell you. + +"Injuns can talk with other animals--they can call them others, too. I +have seed an old medicine man, right out on the plain ground in the +middle of the village, go to dancin', and I have seed him call three +full-sized beavers right up out'n the ground--seed them with my own +_eyes_, I tell you! Yes, and I have seed them three old beavers standin' +right there, turn into full-growed old men, gray haired. I have seed 'em +sit down at a fire and smoke, too, and finally get up when they got +through, and clean out--just disappear back into the ground. Now, how +you all explain them there things, I don't pretend to say; but there +can't no man call me a liar, fur I seed 'em and seed 'em unmistakable." + +Belknap and the others only smiled, but Orme turned soberly toward +Auberry. "I don't call you a liar, my man," said he. "On the contrary, +what you say is very interesting. I quite believe it, although I never +knew before that your natives in this country were possessed of these +powers." + +"It ain't all of 'em can do it," said Auberry, "only a few men of a few +tribes can do them things; but them that can shore can, and that's all I +know about it." + +"Quite so," said Orme. "Now, as it chances, I have traveled a bit in my +time in the old countries of the East. I have seen some wonderful things +done there." + +"I have read about the East Indian jugglers," said Belknap, interested. +"Tell me, have you seen those feats? are they feats, or simply lies?" + +"They are actual occurrences," said Orme. "I have seen them with my own +eyes, just as Auberry has seen the things he describes; and it is no +more right to accuse the one than the other of us of untruthfulness. + +"For instance, I have seen an Indian juggler take a plain bowl, such as +they use for rice, and hold it out in his hand in the open sunlight; and +then I have seen a little bamboo tree start in it and grow two feet +high, right in the middle of the bowl, within the space of a minute or +so. + +"You talk about the old story of 'Jack and the Bean Stalk'; I have seen +an old fakir take a bamboo stick, no thicker than his finger, and thrust +it down in the ground and start and climb up it, as if it were a tree, +and keep on climbing till he was out of sight; and then there would come +falling down out of the sky, legs and arms, his head, pieces of his +body. When these struck the ground, they would reassemble and make the +man all over again--just like Auberry's dead boy, you know. + +"These tricks are so common in Asia that they do not excite any wonder. +As to tribal telegraph, they have got it there. Time and again, when our +forces were marching against the hill tribes of northwestern India, we +found they knew all of our plans a hundred miles ahead of us--how, none +of us could tell--only the fact was there, plain and unmistakable." + +"They never do tell," broke in Auberry. "You couldn't get a red to +explain any of this to you--not even a squaw you have lived with for +years. They certainly do stand pat for keeps." + +"Yet once in a while," smiled Orme, in his easy way, "a white man does +pick up some of these tricks. I believe I could do a few of them myself, +if I liked--in fact, I have sometimes learned some of the simpler ones +for my own amusement." + +General exclamations of surprise and doubt greeted him from our little +circle, and this seemed to nettle him somewhat. "By Jove!" he went on, +"if you doubt it, I don't mind trying a hand at it right now. Perhaps I +have forgotten something of my old skill, but we'll see. Come, hen." + +All arose now and gathered about him on the ground there in the full +sunlight. He evinced no uneasiness or surprise, and he employed no +mechanism or deception which we could detect. + +"My good man," said he to Auberry, "let me take your knife." Auberry +loosed the long hunting-knife at his belt and handed it to him. Taking +it, Orme seated himself cross-legged on a white blanket, which he spread +out on the sandy soil. + +All at once Orme looked up with an expression of surprise on his face. +"This was not the knife I wanted," he said. "I asked for a plain +American hunting-knife, not this one. See, you have given me a Malay +kris! I have not the slightest idea where you got it." + +We all looked intently at him. There, held up in his hand, was full +proof of what he had said--a long blade of wavy steel, with a little +crooked, carved handle. From what I had read, I saw this to be a kris, a +wavy bladed knife of the Malays. It did not shine or gleam in the sun, +but threw back a dull reflection from its gray steel, as though lead and +silver mingled in its make. The blade was about thirty inches long, +whereas that of Auberry's knife could not have exceeded eight inches at +the most. + +"We did not know you had that thing around you!" exclaimed Belknap. +"That is only sleight of hand." + +"Is it, indeed?" said Orme, smiling. "I tell you, I did not have it with +me. After all, you see it is the same knife." + +We all gaped curiously, and there, as I am a living man, we saw that +wavy kris, extended in his hand, turn back into the form of the +plainsman's hunting-knife! A gasp of wonder and half terror came from +the circle. Some of the men drew back. I heard an Irish private swear +and saw him cross himself. I do not explain these things, I only say I +saw them. + +"I was mistaken," said Orme, politely, "in offering so simple a test as +this; but now, if you still think I had the kris in my clothing--how +that could be, I don't know, I'm sure--and if you still wish to call my +little performance sleight of hand, then I'll do something to prove what +I have said, and make it quite plain that all my friend here has said is +true and more than true. Watch now, and you will see blood drip from the +point of this blade--every drop of blood it ever drew, of man or animal. +Look, now--watch it closely." + +We looked, and again, as I am a living man, and an honest one, I hope, I +saw, as the others did, running from the point of the steel blade, a +little trickling stream of red blood! It dropped in a stream, I say, and +fell on the white blanket upon which Orme was sitting. It stained the +blanket entirely red. At this sight the entire group broke apart, only a +few remaining to witness the rest of the scene. + +I do not attempt to explain this illusion, or whatever it was. I do not +know how long it lasted; but presently, as I may testify, I saw Orme +rise and kick at the wetted, bloodstained blanket. He lifted it, heavy +with dripping blood. I saw the blood fall from its corners upon the +ground. + +"Ah," he remarked, calmly, "it's getting dry now. Here is your knife, my +good fellow." + +I looked about me, almost disposed to rub my eyes, as were, perhaps, the +others of our party. The same great plains were there, the same wide +shimmering stream, rippling in the sunlight, the same groups of animals +grazing on the bluff, the same sentinels outlined against the sky. Over +all shone the blinding light of the Western mid-day sun. Yet, as Orme +straightened out this blanket, it was white as it had been before! +Auberry looked at his knife blade as though he would have preferred to +throw it away, but he sheathed it and it fitted the sheath as before. + +Orme smiled at us all pleasantly. "Do you believe in the Indian +telegraph now?" he inquired. + +I have told you many things of this strange man, Gordon Orme, and I +shall need to tell yet others. Sometimes my friends smile at me even yet +over these things. But since that day, I have not doubted the tales old +Auberry told me of our own Indians. Since then, too, I have better +understood Gordon Orme and his strange personality, the like of which I +never knew in any land. + + + + +CHAPTER XXI + +TWO IN THE DESERT + + +How long it was I hardly knew, for I had slink into a sort of dull +apathy in which one day was much like another; but at last we gathered +our crippled party together and broke camp, our wounded men in the +wagons, and so slowly passed on westward, up the trail. We supposed, +what later proved to be true, that the Sioux had raided in the valley on +both sides of us, and that the scattered portions of the army had all +they could do, while the freight trains were held back until the road +was clear. + +I wearied of the monotony of wagon travel, and without council with any, +finally, weak as I was, called for my horse and rode on slowly with the +walking teams. I had gone for some distance before I heard hoofs on the +sand behind me. + +"Guess who it is," called a voice. "Don't turn your head." + +"I can't turn," I answered; "but I know who it is." + +She rode up alongside, where I could see her; and fair enough she was to +look upon, and glad enough I was to look. She was thinner now with this +prairie life, and browner, and the ends of her hair were still +yellowing, like that of outdoors men. She still was booted and gloved +after the fashion of civilization, and still elsewise garbed in the +aboriginal costume, which she filled and honored graciously. The metal +cylinders on her leggins rattled as she rode. + +"You ought not to ride," she said. "You are pale." + +"You are beautiful," said I; "and I ride because you are beautiful." + +Her eyes were busy with her gloves, but I saw a sidelong glance. "I do +not understand you," she said, demurely. + +"I could not sit back there in the wagon and think," said I. "I knew +that you would be riding before long, and I guessed I might, perhaps, +talk with you." + +She bit her lip and half pulled up her horse as if to fall back. "That +will depend," was her comment. But we rode on, side by side, knee to +knee. + +Many things I had studied before then, for certain mysteries had come to +me, as to many men, who wish logically to know the causes of great +phenomena. From boyhood I had pondered many things. I had lain on my +back and looked up at the stars and wondered how far they were, and how +far the farthest thing beyond them was. I had wondered at that +indeterminate quotient in my sums, where the same figure came, always +the same, running on and on. I used to wonder what was my soul, and I +fancied that it was a pale, blue flaming oblate, somewhere near my back +and in the middle of my body--such was my boyish guess of what they told +me was a real thing. I had pondered on that compass of the skies by +which the wild fowl guide themselves. I had wondered, as a child, how +far the mountains ran. As I had grown older I had read the law, read of +the birth of civilization, pondered on laws and customs. Declaring that +I must know their reasons, I had read of marriages in many lands, and +many times had studied into the questions of dowry and bride-price, and +consent of parents, and consent of the bride--studied marriage as a +covenant, a contract, as a human and a so-called divine thing. I had +questioned the cause of the old myth that makes Cupid blind. I had +delved deep as I might in law, and history and literature, seeking to +solve, as I might--what? + +Ah, witless! it was to solve this very riddle that rode by my side now, +to answer the question of the Sphinx. What had come of all my studies? +Not so much as I was learning now, here in the open, with this sweet +savage woman whose leggins tinkled as she rode, whose tunic swelled +softly, whose jaw was clean and brown. How weak the precepts of the +social covenant seemed. How feeble and far away the old world we too had +known. And how infinitely sweet, how compellingly necessary now seemed +to me this new, sweet world that swept around us now. + +We rode on, side by side, knee to knee. Her garments rustled and +tinkled. + +Her voice awoke me from my brooding. "I wish, Mr. Cowles," said she, +"that if you are strong enough and can do so without discomfort, you +would ride with me each day when I ride." + +"Why?" I asked. That was the wish in my own mind; but I knew her reason +was not the same as mine. + +"Because," she said. She looked at me, but would not answer farther. + +"You ought to tell me," I said quietly. + +"Because it is prescribed for you." + +"Not by my doctor." I shook my head. "Why, then?" + +"Stupid--oh, very stupid officer and gentleman!" she aid, smiling +slowly. "Lieutenant Belknap has his duties to look after; and as for Mr. +Orme, I am not sure he is either officer or gentleman." + +She spoke quietly but positively. I looked on straight up the valley and +pondered. Then I put out a hand and touched the fringe of her sleeve. + +"I am going to try to be a gentleman," said I. "But I wish some fate +would tell me why it is a gentleman can be made from nothing but a man." + + + + +CHAPTER XXII + +MANDY McGOVERN ON MARRIAGE + + +Our slow travel finally brought us near to the historic forks of the +Platte where that shallow stream stretches out two arms, one running to +the mountains far to the south, the other still reaching westward for a +time. Between these two ran the Oregon Trail, pointing the way to the +Pacific, and on this trail, somewhere to the west, lay Laramie. Before +us now lay two alternatives. We could go up the beaten road to Laramie, +or we could cross here and take an old trail on the north side of the +river for a time. Auberry thought this latter would give better feed and +water, and perhaps be safer as to Indians, so we held a little council +over it. + +The Platte even here was a wide, treacherous stream, its sandy bottom +continuously shifting. At night the melted floods from the mountains +came down and rendered it deeper than during the day, when for the most +part it was scarcely more than knee deep. Yet here and there at any +time, undiscoverable to the eye, were watery pitfalls where the sand was +washed out, and in places there was shifting quicksand, dangerous for +man or animal. + +"We'll have to boat across," said Auberry finally. "We couldn't get the +wagons over loaded." Wherefore we presently resorted to the old Plains +makeshift of calking the wagon bodies and turning them into boats, it +being thought probable that two or three days would be required to make +the crossing in this way. By noon of the following day our rude boats +were ready and our work began. + +I was not yet strong enough to be of much assistance, so I sat on the +bank watching the busy scene. Our men were stripped to the skin, some of +the mountaineers brown almost as Indians, for even in those days white +hunters often rode with no covering but the blanket, and not that when +the sun was warm. They were now in, now out of the water, straining at +the lines which steadied the rude boxes that bore our goods, pulling at +the heads of the horses and mules, shouting, steadying, encouraging, +always getting forward. It took them nearly an hour to make the first +crossing, and presently we could see the fire of their farther camp, now +occupied by some of those not engaged in the work. + +As I sat thus I was joined by Mandy McGovern, who pulled out her +contemplative pipe. "Did you see my boy, Andy Jackson?" she asked. "He +went acrost with the first bunch--nary stitch of clothes on to him. He +ain't much thicker'n a straw, but say--he was a-rastlin' them mules and +a-swearin' like a full-growed man! I certainly have got hopes that boy's +goin' to come out all right. Say, I heerd him tell the cook this mornin' +he wasn't goin' to take no more sass off n him. I has hopes--I certainly +has hopes, that Andrew Jackson '11 kill a man some time yit; and like +enough it'll be right soon." + +I gave my assent to this amiable hope, and presently Mandy went on. + +"But say, man, you and me has got to get that girl acrost somehow, +between us. You know her and me--and sometimes that Englishman--travels +along in the amberlanch. She's allowed to me quiet that when the time +come for her to go acrost, she'd ruther you and me went along. She's all +ready now, if you air." + +"Very good," said I, "we'll go now--they've got a fire there, and are +cooking, I suppose." + +Mandy left me, and I went for my own horse. Presently we three, all +mounted, met at the bank. Taking the girl between us, Mandy and I +started, and the three horses plunged down the bank. As it chanced, we +struck a deep channel at the send-off, and the horses were at once +separated. The girl was swept out of her saddle, but before I could +render any assistance she called out not to be alarmed. I saw that she +was swimming, down stream from the horse, with one hand on the pommel. +Without much concern, she reached footing on the bar at which the horse +scrambled up. + +"Now I'm good and wet," laughed she. "It won't make any difference after +this. I see now how the squaws do." + +We plunged on across the stream, keeping our saddles for most of the +way, sometimes in shallow water, sometimes on dry, sandy bars, and now +and again in swift, swirling channels; but at last we got over and fell +upon the steaks of buffalo and the hot coffee which we found at the +fire. The girl presently left us to make such changes in her apparel as +she might. Mandy and I were left alone once more. + +"It seems to me like it certainly is too bad," said she bitterly, over +her pipe stem, "that there don't seem to be no real man around nowhere +fittin' to marry a real woman. That gal's good enough for a real man, +like my first husband was." + +"What could he do?" I asked her, smiling. + +"Snuff a candle at fifty yards, or drive a nail at forty. He nach'elly +scorned to bring home a squirrel shot back of the ears. He killed four +men in fair knife fightin', an' each time come free in co'te. He was six +foot in the clean, could hug like a bar, and he wa'n't skeered of +anything that drawed the breath of life." + +"Tell me, Aunt Mandy," I said, "tell me how he came courting you, +anyway." + +"He never did no great at co'tin'," said she, grinning. "He just come +along, an' he sot eyes on me. Then he sot eyes on me again. I sot eyes +on him, too." + +"Yes?" + +"One evenin', says he, 'Mandy, gal, I'm goin' to marry you all right +soon.' + +"Says I, '_No_, you ain't!' + +"Says he, '_Yes_, I air!' I jest laughed at him then and started to run +away, but he jumped and ketched me--I told you he could hug like a bar. +Mebbe I wasn't hard to ketch. Then he holds me right tight, an' says +he,' Gal, quit this here foolin'. I'm goin' to marry you, you +hear!--then maybe he kisses me--law! I dunno! Whut business is it o' +yourn, anyhow? That's about all there was to it. I didn't seem to keer. +But that," she concluded, "was a real _man_. He shore had my other two +men plumb faded." + +"What became of your last husband, Mandy?" I asked, willing to be amused +for a time. "Did he die?" + +"Nope, didn't die." + +"Divorced, eh?" + +"Deevorced, hell! No, I tole you, I up an' left him." + +"Didn't God join you in holy wedlock, Mandy?" + +"No, it was the Jestice of the Peace." + +"Ah?" + +"Yep. And them ain't holy none--leastways in Missouri. But say, man, +look yere, it ain't God that marries folks, and it ain't Jestices of the +Peace--it's _theirselves_." + +I pondered for a moment. "But your vow--your promise?" + +"My promise? Whut's the word of a woman to a man? Whut's the word of a +man to a woman? It ain't words, man, it's _feelin's_." + +"In sickness or in health?" I quoted. + +"That's all right, if your _feelin's_ is all right. The Church is all +right, too. I ain't got no kick. All I'm sayin' to you is, folks marries +_theirselves_." + +I pondered yet further. "Mandy," said I, "suppose you were a man, and +your word was given to a girl, and you met another girl and couldn't get +her out of your head, or out of your heart--you loved the new one most +and knew you always would--what would you do?" + +But the Sphinx of womanhood may lie under linsey-woolsey as well as +silk. "Man," said she, rising and knocking her pipe against her bony +knee, "you talk like a fool. If my first husband was alive, he might +maybe answer that for you." + + + + +CHAPTER XXIII + +ISSUE JOINED + + +Later in the evening, Mandy McGovern having left me, perhaps for the +purpose of assisting her protégée in the somewhat difficult art of +drying buckskin clothing, I was again alone on the river bank, idly +watching the men out on the bars, struggling with their teams and box +boats. Orme had crossed the river some time earlier, and now he joined +me at the edge of our disordered camp. + +"How is the patient getting along?" he inquired. I replied, somewhat +surlily, I fear, that I was doing very well, and thenceforth intended to +ride horseback and to comport myself as though nothing had happened. + +"I am somewhat sorry to hear that," said he, still smiling in his own +way. "I was in hopes that you would be disposed to turn back down the +river, if Belknap would spare you an escort east." + +I looked at him in surprise. "I don't in the least understand why I +should be going east, when my business lies in precisely the opposite +direction," I remarked, coolly. + +"Very well, then, I will make myself plain," he went on, seating himself +beside me. "Granted that you will get well directly--which is very +likely, for the equal of this Plains air for surgery does not exist in +the world--I may perhaps point out to you that at least your injury +might serve as an explanation--as an excuse--you might put it that +way--for your going back home. I thought perhaps that your duty lay +there as well." + +"You become somewhat interested in my affairs, Mr. Orme?" + +"Very much so, if you force me to say it." + +"I think they need trouble you no farther." + +"I thought that possibly you might be sensible of a certain obligation +to me," he began. + +"I am deeply sensible of it. Are you pleased to tell me what will settle +this debt between us?" + +He turned squarely toward me and looked me keenly in the eye. "I have +told you. Turn about and go home. That is all." + +"I do not understand you." + +"But I understand your position perfectly." + +"Meaning?" + +"That your affections are engaged with a highly respectable young lady +back at your home in Virginia. Wait--" he raised his hand as I turned +toward him. "Meaning also," he went on, "that your affections are +apparently also somewhat engaged with an equally respectable young lady +who is not back home in Virginia. Therefore--" + +He caught my wrist in a grip of steel as I would have struck him. I saw +then that I still was weak. + +"Wait," he said, smiling coldly. "Wait till you are stronger." + +"You are right," I said, "but we shall settle these matters." + +"That, of course. But in the meantime, I have only suggested to you that +could you agree with me in my point of view our obligation as it stands +would be settled." + +"Orme," said I, suddenly, "your love is a disgrace to any woman." + +"Usually," he admitted, calmly, "but not in this case. I propose to +marry Miss Meriwether; and I tell you frankly, I do not propose to have +anything stand in my way." + +"Then, by God!" I cried, "take her. Why barter and dicker over any woman +with another man? The field is open. Do what you can. I know that is the +way I'd do." + +"Oh, certainly; but one needs all his chances even in an open field, in +a matter so doubtful as this. I thought that I would place it before +you--knowing your situation back in Virginia--and ask you--" + +"Orme," said I, "one question--Why did you not kill me the other day +when you could? Your tracks would have been covered. As it is, I may +later have to uncover some tracks for you." + +"I preferred it the other way," he remarked, still smiling his +inscrutable smile. + +"You surely had no scruples about it." + +"Not in the least. I'd as soon have killed you as to have taken a drink +of water. But I simply love to play any kind of game that tests me, +tries me, puts me to my utmost mettle. I played that game in my own +way." + +"I was never very subtle," I said to him simply. + +"No, on the contrary, you are rather dull. I dared not kill you--it +would have been a mistake in the game. It would have cost me her +sympathy at once. Since I did not, and since, therefore, you owe me +something for that fact, what do you say about it yourself, my friend?" + +I thought for a long time, my head between my hands, before I answered +him. "That I shall pay you some day Orme, but not in any such way as you +suggest." + +"Then it is to be war?" he asked, quietly. + +I shrugged my shoulders. "You heard me." + +"Very well!" he replied, calmly, after a while. "But listen. I don't +forget. If I do not have my pay voluntarily in the way I ask, I shall +some day collect it in my own fashion." + +"As you like. But we Cowles men borrow no fears very far in advance." + +Orme rose and stood beside me, his slender figure resembling less that +of a man than of some fierce creature, animated by some uncanny spirit, +whose motives did not parallel those of human beings. "Then, Mr. Cowles, +you do not care to go back down the valley, and to return to the girl in +Virginia?" + +"You are a coward to make any such request." + +His long white teeth showed as he answered. "Very well," he said. "It is +the game. Let the best man win. Shall it then be war?" + +"Let the best man win," I answered. "It is war." + +We both smiled, each into the other's face. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIV + +FORSAKING ALL OTHERS + + +When finally our entire party had been gotten across the Platte, and we +had resumed our westward journey, the routine of travel was, for the +time, broken, and our line of march became somewhat scattered across the +low, hilly country to which we presently came. For my own part, our +progress seemed too slow, and mounting my horse, I pushed on in advance +of the column, careless of what risk this might mean in an Indian +country. I wished to be alone; and yet I wished to be not alone. I hoped +that might occur which presently actually did happen. + +It was early in the afternoon when I heard her horse's feet coming up +behind me as I rode. She passed me at a gallop; laughing back as though +in challenge, and so we raced on for a time, until we quite left out of +sight behind us the remainder of our party. Ellen Meriwether was a +Virginia girl with Western experience, and it goes without saying that +she rode well--of course in the cavalry saddle and with the cross seat. +Her costume still was composed of the somewhat shriveled and wrinkled +buckskins which had been so thoroughly wetted in crossing the river. I +noticed that she had now even discarded her shoes, and wore the +aboriginal costume almost in full, moccasins and all, her gloves and hat +alone remaining to distinguish her in appearance at a distance from a +native woman of the Plains. The voluminous and beruffled skirts of the +period, and that feminine monstrosity of the day, the wide spreading +crinoline, she had left far behind her at the Missouri River. Again the +long curls, which civilization at that time decreed, had been forgotten. +Her hair at the front and sides half-waved naturally, but now, instead +of neck curls or the low dressing of the hair which in those days partly +covered the fashionable forehead, she had, like a native woman, arranged +her hair in two long braids. Her hat, no longer the flat straw or the +flaring, rose-laden bonnet of the city, was now simply a man's cavalry +hat, and almost her only mark of coquetry was the rakish cockade which +confined it at one side. Long, heavy-hooped earrings such as women at +that time wore, and which heretofore I had never known her to employ, +she now disported. Brown as her face was now becoming, one might indeed, +at a little distance, have suspected her to be rather a daughter of the +Plains than a belle of civilization. I made some comment on this. She +responded by sitting the more erect in her saddle and drawing a long, +deep breath. + +"I think I shall throw away my gloves," she said, "and hunt up some +brass bracelets. I grow more Indian every day. Isn't it glorious, here +on the Plains? Isn't it _glorious_!" + +It so seemed to me, and I so advised her, saying I wished the western +journey might be twice as long. + +"But Mr. Orme was saying that he rather thought you might take an escort +and go back down the river." + +"I wish Mr. Orme no disrespect," I answered, "but neither he nor any one +else regulates my travel. I have already told you how necessary it was +for me to see your father, Colonel Meriwether." + +"Yes, I remember. But tell me, why did not your father himself come +out?" + +I did not answer her for a time. "My father is dead," I replied finally. + +I saw her face flush in quick trouble and embarrassment. "Why did you +not tell me? I am so sorry! I beg your pardon." + +"No," I answered quietly, "we Quakers never wish to intrude our own +griefs, or make any show of them. I should have told you, but there were +many other things that prevented for the time." Then, briefly, I +reviewed the happenings that had led to my journey into the West. Her +sympathy was sweet to me. + +"So now, you see, I ought indeed to return," I concluded, "but I can +not. We shall be at Laramie now very soon. After that errand I shall go +back to Virginia." + +"And that will be your home?" + +"Yes," I said bitterly. "I shall settle down and become a staid old +farmer. I shall be utterly cheerless." + +"You must not speak so. You are young." + +"But you," I ventured, "will always live with the Army?" + +"Why, our home is in Virginia, too, over in old Albemarle, though we +don't often see it. I have been West since I came out of school, pretty +much all the time, and unless there should be a war I suppose I shall +stay always out here with my father. My mother died when I was very +young." + +"And you will never come back to quiet old Virginia, where plodding +farmers go on as their fathers did a hundred years ago?" + +She made no immediate answer, and when she did, apparently mused on +other things. "The Plains," she said, "how big--how endless they are! +Is it not all wild and free?" + +Always she came back to that same word "free." Always she spoke of +wildness, of freedom. + +"For all one could tell, there might be lions and tigers and camels and +gazelles out there." She gestured vaguely toward the wide horizon. "It +is the desert." + +We rode on for a time, silent, and I began to hum to myself the rest of +the words of an old song, then commonly heard: + + "O come with me, and be my love, + For thee the jungle's depths I'll rove. + I'll chase the antelope over the plain, + And the tiger's cub I'll bind with a chain, + And the wild gazelle with the silvery feet + I'll give to thee for a playmate sweet." + +"Poets," said I, "can very well sing about such things, but perhaps they +could not practice all they sing. They always--" + +"Hush!" she whispered, drawing her horse gently down to a walk, and +finally to a pause. "Look! Over there is one of the wild gazelles." + +I followed the direction of her eyes and saw, peering curiously down at +us from beyond the top of a little ridge, something like a hundred yards +away, the head, horns, and neck of a prong-horn buck, standing facing +us, and seeming not much thicker than a knife blade. Her keen eyes +caught this first; my own, I fancy, being busy elsewhere. At once I +slipped out of my saddle and freed the long, heavy rifle from its sling. +I heard her voice, hard now with eagerness. I caught a glance at her +face, brown between her braids. She was a savage woman! + +"Quick!" she whispered. "He'll run." + +Eager as she, but deliberately, I raised the long barrel to line and +touched the trigger. I heard the thud of the ball against the antelope's +shoulder, and had no doubt that we should pick it up dead, for it +disappeared, apparently end over end, at the moment of the shot. +Springing into the saddle, I raced with my companion to the top of the +ridge. But, lo! there was the antelope two hundred yards away, and going +as fast on three legs as our horses were on four. + +"Ride!" she called. "Hurry!" And she spurred off at breakneck speed in +pursuit, myself following, both of us now forgetting poesy, and quite +become creatures of the chase. + +The prong-horn, carrying lead as only the prong-horn can, kept ahead of +us, ridge after ridge, farther and farther away, mile after mile, until +our horses began to blow heavily, and our own faces were covered with +perspiration. Still we raced on, neck and neck, she riding with hands +low and weight slightly forward, workmanlike as a jockey. Now and again +I heard her call out in eagerness. + +We should perhaps have continued this chase until one or the other of +the horses dropped, but now her horse picked up a pebble and went +somewhat lame. She pulled up and told me to ride on alone. After a pause +I slowly approached the top of the next ridge, and there, as I more than +half suspected, I saw the antelope lying down, its head turned back. +Eager to finish the chase, I sprang down, carelessly neglecting to throw +the bridle rein over my horse's head. Dropping flat, I rested on my +elbow and fired carefully once more. This time the animal rolled over +dead. I rose, throwing up my hat with a shout of victory, and I heard, +shrilling to me across the distance, her own cry of exultation, as that +of some native woman applauding a red hunter. + +Alas for our joy of victory! Our success was our undoing. The very +motion of my throwing up my hat, boyish as it was, gave fright to my +horse, already startled by the shot. He flung up his head high, snorted, +and was off, fast as he could go. I followed him on foot, rapidly as I +could, but he would none of that, and was all for keeping away from me +at a safe distance. This the girl saw, and she rode up now, springing +down and offering me her horse. + +"Stay here," I called to her as I mounted. "I'll be back directly"; and +then with such speed as I could spur out of my new mount, I started +again after the fugitive. + +It was useless. Her horse, already lame and weary, and further +handicapped by my weight, could not close with the free animal, and +without a rope to aid me in the capture, it would have been almost +impossible to have stopped him, even had I been able to come alongside. +I headed him time and again, and turned him, but it was to no purpose. +At last I suddenly realized that I had no idea how far I had gone or in +what direction. I must now think of my companion. Never was more welcome +sight than when I saw her on a distant ridge, waving her hat. I gave up +the chase and returned to her, finding that in her fatigue she had sunk +to the ground exhausted. She herself had run far away from the spot +where I had left 'her. + +"I was afraid," she panted. "I followed. Can't you catch him?" + +"No," said I, "he's gone. He probably will go back to the trail." + +"No," she said, "they run wild, sometimes. But now what shall we do?" + +I looked at her in anxiety. I had read all my life of being afoot on the +Plains. Here was the reality. + +"But you are hurt," she cried. "Look, your wound is bleeding." + +I had not known it, but my neck was wet with blood. + +"Get up and ride," she said. "We must be going." But I held the stirrup +for her instead, smiling. + +"Mount!" I said, and so I put her up. + +"Shall we go back to camp?" she asked in some perturbation, apparently +forgetting that there was no camp, and that by this time the wagons +would be far to the west. For reasons of my own I thought it better to +go back to the dead antelope, and so I told her. + +"It is over there," she said, pointing in the direction from which she +thought she had come. I differed with her, remembering I had ridden with +the sun in my face when following it, and remembering the shape of the +hilltop near by. Finally my guess proved correct, and we found the dead +animal, nearly a mile from where she had waited for me. I hurried with +the butchering, cutting the loin well forward, and rolling it all tight +in the hide, bound the meat behind the saddle. + +"Now, shall we go back?" she asked. "If we rode opposite to the sun, we +might strike the trail. These hills look all alike." + +"The river runs east and west," I said, "so we might perhaps better +strike to the southward." + +"But I heard them say that the river bends far to the south not far from +where we crossed. We might parallel the river if we went straight +south." + +"But does not the trail cut off the bend, and run straight west?" I +rejoined. Neither of us knew that the course of the north fork ran +thence far to the northwest and quite away from the trail to Laramie. + +Evidently our council was of little avail. We started southwest as +nearly as we could determine it, and I admit that grave anxiety had now +settled upon me. In that monotonous country only the sun and the stars +might guide one. Now, hard as it was to admit the thought, I realized +that we would be most fortunate if we saw the wagons again that night. I +had my watch with me, and with this I made the traveler's compass, using +the dial and the noon mark to orient myself; but this was of small +assistance, for we were not certain of the direction of the compass in +which the trail lay. As a matter of fact, it is probable that we went +rather west than southwest, and so paralleled both the trail and the +river for more than a dozen miles that afternoon. The girl's face was +very grave, and now and again she watched me walking or trotting +alongside at such speed as I could muster. My clothing was covered with +blood from my wound. + +I looked always for some little rivulet which I knew must lead us to the +Platte, but we struck no running water until late that evening, and then +could not be sure that we had found an actual water course. There were +some pools of water standing in a coulee, at whose head grew a clump of +wild plum trees and other straggly growth. At least here was water and +some sort of shelter. I dared go no farther. + +Over in the west I saw rising a low, black bank of clouds. A film was +coming across the sky. Any way I looked I could see no break, no +landmark, no trend of the land which could offer any sort of guidance. +I wished myself all places in the world but there, and reproached myself +bitterly that through my clumsiness I had brought the girl into such a +situation. + +"Miss Meriwether," I said to her finally, putting my hand on the pommel +of her saddle as we halted, "it's no use. We might as well admit it; we +are lost." + + + + +CHAPTER XXV + +CLEAVING ONLY UNTO HER. + + +She made no great outcry. I saw her bend her face forward into her +hands. + +"What shall we do?" she asked at length. + +"I do not know," said I to her soberly; "but since there is water here +and a little shelter, it is my belief that we ought to stop here for the +night." + +She looked out across the gray monotony that surrounded us, toward the +horizon now grown implacable and ominous. Her eyes were wide, and +evidently she was pondering matters in her mind. At last she turned to +me and held out her hands for me to assist her in dismounting. + +"John Cowles, _of Virginia_," she said, "I am sorry we are lost." + +I could make no answer, save to vow silently that if I lived she must be +returned safely to her home, unhurt body and soul. I dared not ponder on +conventions in a case so desperate as I knew ours yet might be. Silently +I unsaddled the horse and hobbled it securely as I might with the bridle +rein. Then I spread the saddle blanket for her to sit upon, and hurried +about for Plains fuel. Water we drank from my hat, and were somewhat +refreshed. Now we had food and water. We needed fire. But this, when I +came to fumble in my pockets, seemed at first impossible, for I found +not a match. + +"I was afraid of that," she said, catching the meaning of my look. "What +shall we do? We shall starve!" + +"Not in the least," said I, stoutly. "We are good Indians enough to make +a fire, I hope." + +In my sheath was a heavy hunting knife; and now, searching about us on +the side of the coulee bank, I found several flints, hard and white. +Then I tore out a bit of my coat lining and moistened it a trifle, and +saturated it with powder from my flask, rubbed in until it all was dry. +This niter-soaked fabric I thought might serve as tinder for the spark. +So then I struck flint and steel, and got the strange spark, hidden in +the cold stone ages and ages there on the Plains; and presently the +spark was a little flame, and then a good fire, and so we were more +comfortable. + +We roasted meat now, flat on the coals, the best we might, and so we +ate, with no salt to aid us. The girl became a trifle more cheerful, +though still distant and quiet. If I rose to leave the fire for an +instant, I saw her eyes following me all the time. I knew her fears, +though she did not complain. + +Man is the most needful of all the animals, albeit the most resourceful. +We needed shelter, and we had none. Night came on. The great gray +wolves, haunters of the buffalo herds, roared their wild salute to us, +savage enough to strike terror to any woman's soul. The girl edged close +to me as the dark came down. We spoke but little. Our dangers had not +yet made us other than conventional. + +Now, worst of all, the dark bank of cloud arose and blotted out all the +map of the stars. The sun scarce had sunk before a cold breath, silent, +with no motion in its coming, swept across or settled down upon the +Plains. The little grasses no longer stirred in the wind. The +temperature mysteriously fell more and more, until it was cold, very +cold. And those pale, heatless flames, icy as serpent tongues played +along the darkening heavens, and mocked at us who craved warmth and +shelter. I felt my own body shiver. She looked at me startled. + +"You are cold," said she. + +"No," I answered, "only angry because I am so weak." We sat silent for +very long intervals. At length she raised her hand and pointed. + +Even as dusk sank upon us, all the lower sky went black. An advancing +roar came upon our ears. And then a blinding wave of rain drove across +the surface of the earth, wiping out the day, beating down with +remorseless strength and volume as though it would smother and drown us +twain in its deluge--us, the last two human creatures of the world! + +It caught us, that wave of damp and darkness, and rolled over us and +crushed us down as we cowered. I caught up the blanket from the ground +and pulled it around the girl's shoulders. I drew her tight to me as I +lay with my own back to the storm, and pulled the saddle over her head, +with this and my own body keeping out the tempest from her as much as I +could. There was no other fence for her, and but for this she might +perhaps have died; I do not know. I felt her strain at my arms first, +then settle back and sink her head under the saddle flap and cower close +like some little schoolfellow, all the curves of her body craving +shelter, comfort, warmth. She shivered terribly. I heard her gasp and +sob. Ah, how I pitied her that hour! + +[Illustration: COLONEL MERIWEATHER EXPRESSES HIS THANKS FOR THE RESCUE +OF HIS DAUGHTER] + +[Illustration: ORME TESTIFIES THAT HE HEARD JOHN AND THE COLONEL +QUARRELING] + +Our fire was gone at the first sweep of the storm, which raged +thunderously by, with heavy feet, over the echoing floor of the world. +There came other fires, such blazes and explosions of pale balls of +electricity as I had never dreamed might be, with these detonations of +pent-up elemental wrath such as I never conceived might have existence +under any sky. Night, death, storm, the strength of the elements, all +the primeval factors of the world and life were upon us, testing us, +seeking to destroy us, beating upon us, freezing, choking, blinding us, +leaving us scarce animate. + +Yet not destroying us. Still, somewhere under the huddle and draggle of +it all burned on the human soul. The steel in my belt was cold, but it +had held its fire. The ice in the flints about us held fire also in its +depths. Fire was in our bodies, the fire of life--indomitable, +yearning--in our two bodies. So that which made the storm test us and +try us and seek to slay us, must perhaps have smiled grimly as it howled +on and at length disappeared, baffled by the final success of the +immutable and imperishable scheme. The fire in our two bodies still was +there. + +As the rain lessened, and the cold increased, I knew that rigors would +soon come upon us. "We must walk," I said. "You shiver, you freeze." + +"You tremble," she said. "You are cold. You are very cold." + +"Walk, or we die," I gasped; and so I led her at last lower down the +side of the ravine, where the wind was not so strong. + +"We must run," I said, "or we shall die." I staggered as I ran. With all +my soul I challenged my weakness, summoning to my aid that reserve of +strength I had always known each hour in my life. Strangely I felt--how +I cannot explain--that she must be saved, that she was I. Strange +phrases ran through my brain. I remembered only one, "Cleaving only +unto her"; and this, in my weakened frame of body and mind, I could not +separate from my stern prayer to my own strength, once so ready, now so +strangely departed from me. + +We ran as we might, back and forward on the slippery mud, scrambled up +and down, panting, until at length our hearts began to beat more +quickly, and the love of life came back strongly, and the unknown, +mysterious fire deep down somewhere, inscrutable, elemental, began to +flicker up once more, and we were saved--saved, we two savages, we two +primitive human beings, the only ones left alive after the deluge which +had flooded all the earth--left alive to begin the world all over again. + + + + +CHAPTER XXVI + +IN SICKNESS AND IN HEALTH + + +To the delirious or the perishing man, time has no measuring. I do not +know how we spent the night, or how long it was. Some time it became +morning, if morning might be called this gray and cheerless lifting of +the gloom, revealing to us the sodden landscape, overcast with still +drizzling skies which blotted out each ray of sunlight. + +Search what way I might, I could find nothing to relieve our plight. I +knew that Auberry would before this time have gone back to follow our +trail, perhaps starting after us even before night had approached; but +now the rain had blotted out all manner of trails, so rescue from that +source was not to be expected. Not even we ourselves could tell where we +had wandered, nor could we, using the best of our wits as we then had +them, do more than vaguely guess where our fellow travelers by that time +might be. Neither did we know distance nor direction of any settlement. +What geography we thought right was altogether wrong. The desert, the +wilderness, had us in its grip. + +We sat, draggled and weary, at the shoulder of the little ravine, +haggard and worn by the long strain. Her skin garments, again wet +through, clung tight to her figure, uncomfortably. Now and again I could +see a tremor running through her body from the chill. Yet as I looked at +her I could not withhold my homage to her spirit. She was a splendid +creature, so my soul swore to me, thoroughbred as any in all the world. +Her chin was high, not drawn down in defeat. I caught sight of her small +ear, flat to the head, pink with cold, but the ear of a game creature. +Her nose, not aquiline, not masculine, still was not weak. Her chin, as +I remember I noted even then, was strong, but lean and not over-laden +with flesh. Her mouth, not thin-lipped and cold, yet not too loose and +easy, was now plaintive as it was sweet in its full, red Cupid bow. +Round and soft and gentle she seemed, yet all the lines of her figure, +all the features of her face, betokened bone and breeding. The low-cut +Indian shirt left her neck bare. I could see the brick red line of the +sunburn creeping down; but most I noted, since ever it was my delight to +trace good lineage in any creature, the splendid curve of her neck, not +long and weak, not short and animal, but round and strong--perfect, I +was willing to call that and every other thing about her. + +She turned to me after a time and smiled wanly. "I am hungry," she said. + +"We shall make a fire," I answered. "But first I must wait until my coat +dries. The lining is wet, and we have no tinder. The bark is wet on the +little trees; each spear of grass is wet." + +Then I bethought me of an old expedient my father had once shown me. At +the bandolier across my shoulder swung my bullet pouch and powder flask, +in the former also some bits of tow along with the cleaning worm. I made +a loose wad of the tow kept thus dry in the shelter of the pouch, and +pushed this down the rifle barrel, after I had with some difficulty +discharged the load already there. Then I rubbed a little more powder +into another loose wad of tow, and fired the rifle into this. As luck +would have it, some sparks still smoldered in the tow, and thus I was +able once more to nurse up a tiny flame. I never knew before how +comforting a fire might be. So now again we ate, and once more, as the +hours advanced, we felt strength coming to us. Yet, in spite of the +food, I was obliged to admit a strange aching in my head, and a hot +fever burning in my bones. + +"See the poor horse," she said, and pointed to our single steed, humped +up in the wind, one hip high, his head low, all dejection. + +"He must eat," said I, and so started to loosen his hobble. Thus engaged +I thought to push on toward the top of the next ridge to see what might +be beyond. What I saw was the worst thing that could have met my eyes. I +sank down almost in despair. + +There, on a flat valley nearly a mile away in its slow descent, stood +the peaked tops of more than a score of Indian tepees. Horses were +scattered all about. From the tops of the lodges little dribbles of +smoke were coming. The wet of the morning kept the occupants within, but +here and there a robed figure stalked among the horses. + +I gazed through the fringe of grasses at the top of the ridge, feeling +that now indeed our cup of danger well-nigh was full. For some moments I +lay examining the camp, seeking to divine the intent of these people, +whom I supposed to be Sioux. The size of the encampment disposed me to +think that it was a hunting party and not an expedition out for war. I +saw meat scaffolds, as I supposed, and strips of meat hanging over ropes +strung here and there; although of this I could not be sure. + +I turned as I heard a whisper at my shoulder. "What is it?" she asked +me; and then the next moment, gazing as I did over the ridge, she saw. I +felt her cower close to me in her instant terror. "My God!" she +murmured, "what shall we do? They will find us; they will kill us!" + +"Wait, now," said I. "They have not yet seen us. They may go away in +quite the other direction. Do not be alarmed." + +We lay there looking at this unwelcome sight for some moments, but at +last I saw something which pleased me better. + +The men among the horses stopped, looked, and began to hurry about, +began to lead up their horses, to gesticulate. Then, far off upon the +other side, I saw a blanket waving. + +"It is the buffalo signal," I said to her. "They are going to hunt, and +their hunt will be in the opposite direction from us. That is good." + +We crept back from the top of the ridge, and I asked her to bring me the +saddle blanket while I held the horse. This I bound fast around the +horse's head. + +"Why do you blind the poor fellow?" she inquired, "He cannot eat, he +will starve. Besides, we ought to be getting away from here as fast as +we can." + +"I tie up his head so that he cannot see, or smell, and so fall to +neighing to the other horses," I explained to her. "As to getting away, +our trail would show plainly on this wet ground. All the trail we left +yesterday has been wiped out; so that here is our very safest place, if +they do not happen to run across the head of this little draw. Besides, +we can still eat; and besides again--" perhaps I staggered a little as I +stood. + +"You are weak!" she exclaimed. "You are ill!" + +"I must admit," said I, "that I could probably not travel far. If I +dared tell you to go on alone and leave me, I would command you to do +so." + +Her face was pale. "What is wrong?" she asked. "Is it a fever? Is it +your wound again?" + +"It is fever," I answered thickly. "My head is bad. I do not see +distinctly. If you please, I think I will lie down for a time." + +I staggered blindly now as I walked. I felt her arm under mine. She led +me to our little fireside, knelt on the wet ground beside me as I sat, +my head hanging dully. I remember that her hands were clasped. I recall +the agony on her face. + +The day grew warmer as the sun arose. The clouds hung low and moved +rapidly under the rising airs. Now and again I heard faint sounds, +muffled, far off. "They are firing," I muttered. "They are among the +buffalo. That is good. Soon they will go away." + +I do not remember much of what I said after that, and recall only that +my head throbbed heavily, and that I wanted to lie down and rest. And +so, some time during that morning, I suppose, I did lie down, and once +more laid hold upon the hand of Mystery. + +I do not wish to speak of what followed after that. For me, a, merciful +ignorance came; but what that poor girl must have suffered, hour after +hour, night after night, day after day, alone, without shelter, almost +without food, in such agony of terror as might have been natural even +had her solitary protector been possessed of all his faculties--I say I +cannot dwell upon that, because it makes the cold sweat stand on my +face even now to think of it. So I will say only that one time I awoke. +She told me later that she did not know whether it was two or three days +we had been there thus. She told me that now and then she left me and +crept to the top of the ridge to watch the Indian camp. She saw them +come in from the chase, their horses loaded with meat. Then, as the sun +came out, they went to drying meat, and the squaws began to scrape the +hides. As they had abundant food they did not hunt more than that one +day, and no one rode in our direction. Our horse she kept concealed and +blindfolded until dark, when she allowed him to feed. This morning she +had removed the blanket from his head, because now, as she told me with +exultation, the Indians had broken camp, mounted and driven away, all of +them, far off toward the west. She had cut and dried the remainder of +our antelope meat, taking this hint from what we saw the Indians doing, +and so most of our remaining meat had been saved. + +I looked at her now, idly, dully. I saw that her belt was drawn tighter +about a thinner waist. Her face was much thinner and browner, her eyes +more sunken. The white strip of her lower neck was now brick red. I +dared not ask her how she had gotten through the nights, because she had +used the blanket to blindfold the horse. She had hollowed out a place +for my hips to lie more easily, and pulled grasses for my bed. In all +ways thoughtfulness and unselfishness had been hers. As I realized this, +I put my hands over my face and groaned aloud. Then I felt her hand on +my head. + +"How did you eat?" I asked her. "You have no fire." "Once I had a fire," +she said. "I made it with flint and steel as I saw you do. See," she +added, and pointed to a ring of ashes, where there were bits of twigs +and other fuel. + +"Now you must eat," she said. "You are like a shadow. See, I have made +you broth." + +"Broth?" said I. "How?" + +"In your hat," she said. "My father told me how the Indians boil water +with hot stones. I tried it in my own hat first, but it is gone. A hot +stone burned it through." Then I noticed that she was bareheaded. I lay +still for a time, pondering feebly, as best I could, on the courage and +resource of this girl, who now no doubt had saved my life, unworthy as +it seemed to me. At last I looked up to her. + +"After all, I may get well," I said. "Go now to the thicket at the head +of the ravine, and see if there are any little cotton-wood trees. +Auberry told me that the inner bark is bitter. It may act like quinine, +and break the fever." + +So presently she came back with my knife and her hands full of soft +green bark which she had found. "It is bitter," said she, "but if I boil +it it will spoil your broth." I drank of the crude preparation as best I +might, and ate feebly as I might at some of the more tender meat thus +softened. And then we boiled the bitter bark, and I drank that water, +the only medicine we might have. Alas! it was our last use of my hat as +a kettle, for now it, too, gave way. + +"Now," she said to me, "I must leave you for a time. I am going over to +the Indian camp to see what I can find." + +She put my head in the saddle for a pillow, and gave me the remnant of +her hat for a shade. I saw her go away, clad like an Indian woman, her +long braids down her back, her head bare, her face brown, her moccasined +feet slipping softly over the grasses, the metals of her leggins +tinkling. My eyes followed her as long as she remained visible, and it +seemed to me hours before she returned. I missed her. + +She came back laughing and joyful. "See!" she exclaimed. "Many things! I +have found a knife, and I have found a broken kettle; and here is an awl +made from a bone; and here is something which I think their women use in +scraping hides." She showed me all these things, last the saw-edged +bone, or scraping hoe of the squaws, used for dressing hides, as she had +thought. + +"Now I am a squaw," she said, smiling oddly. She stood thoughtfully +looking at these things for a time. "Yes," she said, "we are savages +now." + +I looked at her, but could see no despair on her face. "I do not believe +you are afraid," I said to her. "You are a splendid creature. You are +brave." + +She looked down at me at length as I lay. "Have courage, John Cowles," +she said. "Get well now soon, so that we may go and hunt. Our meat is +nearly gone." + +"But you do not despair," said I, wondering. She shook her head. + +"Not yet. Are we not as well off as those?" she pointed toward the old +encampment of the Indians. A faint tinge came to her cheeks. "It is +strange," said she, "I feel as if the world had absolutely come to an +end, and yet--" + +"It is just beginning," said I to her. "We are alone. This is the first +garden of the world. You are the first woman; I am the first cave man, +and all the world depends on us. See," I said--perhaps still a trifle +confused in my mind--"all the arts and letters of the future, all the +paintings, all the money and goods of all the world; all the peace and +war, and all the happiness and content of the world rest with us, just +us two. We are the world, you and I." + +She sat thoughtful and silent for a time, a faint pink, as I said, just +showing on her cheeks. + +"John Cowles, of Virginia," she said simply, "now tell me, how shall I +mend this broken kettle?" + + + + +CHAPTER XXVII + +WITH ALL MY WORLDLY GOODS I THEE ENDOW + + +Poor, indeed, in worldly goods must be those to whom the discarded +refuse of an abandoned Indian camp seems wealth. Yet such was the case +with us, two representatives of the higher civilization, thus removed +from that civilization by no more than a few days' span. As soon as I +was able to stand we removed our little encampment to the ground lately +occupied by the Indian village. + +We must have food, and I could not yet hunt. Here at the camp we found +some bits of dried meat. We found a ragged and half-hairless robe, +discarded by some squaw, and to us it seemed priceless, for now we had a +house by day and a bed by night. A half-dozen broken lodge poles seemed +riches to us. We hoarded some broken moccasins which had been thrown +away. Like jackals we prowled around the filth and refuse of this savage +encampment---we, so lately used to all the comforts that civilization +could give. + +In the minds of us both came a thought new to both--a desire for food. +Never before had we known how urgent is this desire. How few, indeed, +ever really know what hunger is! If our great men, those who shape the +destinies of a people, could know what hunger means, how different would +be their acts! The trail of the lodge poles of these departing savages +showed where they had gone farther in their own senseless pursuit of +food, food. We also must eat. After that might begin all the deeds of +the world. The surplus beyond the necessary provender of the hour is +what constitutes the world's progress, its philosophy, its art, all its +stored material gains. We who sat there under the shade of our ragged +hide, gaunt, browned by the sun, hatless, ill-clad, animals freed from +the yoke of society, none the less were not free from the yet more +perpetual yoke of savagery. + +For myself, weakened by sickness, such food as we had was of little +service. I knew that I was starving, and feared that she was doing +little better. I looked at her that morning, after we had propped up our +little canopy of hide to break the sun. Her face was clean drawn now +into hard lines of muscle. Her limbs lay straight and clean before her +as she sat, her hands lying in her lap as she looked out across the +plains. Her eyes were still brown and clear, her figure still was that +of woman; she was still sweet to look upon, but her cheeks were growing +hollow. I said to myself that she suffered, that she needed food. Upon +us rested the fate of the earth, as it seemed to me. Unless presently I +could arise and kill meat for her, then must the world roll void through +the ether, unpeopled ever more. + +It was at that time useless for us to think of making our way to any +settlements or any human aid. The immediate burden of life was first to +be supported. And yet we were unable to go out in search of food. I know +not what thoughts came to her mind as we sat looking out on the pictures +o; the mirage which the sun was painting on the desert landscape. But, +finally, as we gazed, there seemed, among these weird images, one +colossal tragic shape which moved, advanced, changed definitely. Now It +stood in giant stature, and now dwindled, but always it came nearer. At +last it darkened and denned and so disappeared beyond a blue ridge not +half a mile away from us. We realized at last that it was a solitary +buffalo bull, no doubt coming down to water at a little coulee just +beyond us. I turned to look at her, and saw her eyes growing fierce. She +reached back for my rifle, and I arose. + +"Come," I said, and so we started. We dared not use the horse in +stalking our game. + +I could stand, I could walk a short way, but the weight of this great +rifle, sixteen pounds or more, which I had never felt before, now seemed +to crush me down. I saw that I was starved, that the sap was gone from +my muscles. I could stagger but a few yards before I was obliged to stop +and put down the rifle. She came and put her arm about me firmly, her +face frowning and eager. But a tall man can ill be aided by a woman of +her stature. + +"Can you go?" she said. + +"No," said I, "I cannot; but I must and I shall." I put away her arm +from me, but in turn she caught up the rifle. Even for this I was still +too proud. "No," said I, "I have always carried my own weapons thus +far." + +"Come, then," she said, "this way"; and so caught the muzzle of the +heavy barrel and walked on, leaving me the stock to support for my share +of the weight. Thus we carried the great rifle between us, and so +stumbled on, until at length the sun grew too warm for me, and I +dropped, overcome with fatigue. Patiently she waited for me, and so we +two, partners, mates, a man and a woman, primitive, the first, went on +little by little. + +I knew that the bull would in all likelihood stop near the rivulet, for +his progress seemed to indicate that he was very old or else wounded. +Finally I could see his huge black hump standing less than a quarter of +a mile away from the ridge where I last paused. I motioned to her, and +she crept to my side, like some desert creature. We were hunting animals +now, the two sexes of Man--nothing more. + +"Go," said I, motioning toward the rifle. "I am too weak. I might miss. +I can get no farther." + +She caught up the rifle barrel at its balancing point, looked to the +lock as a man might have done, and leaned forward, eager as any man for +the chase. There was no fear in her eye. + +"Where shall I shoot it?" she whispered to me, as though it might +overhear her. + +"At the life, at the bare spot where his shoulder rubs, very low down," +I said to her. "And when you shoot, drop and He still. He will soon lie +down." + +Lithe, brown, sinuous, she crept rapidly away, and presently was hid +where the grass grew taller in the flat beyond. The bull moved forward a +little also, and I lost sight of both for what seemed to me an +unconscionable time. She told me later that she crept close to the water +hole and waited there for the bull to come, but that he stood back and +stared ahead stupidly and would not move. She said she trembled when at +last he approached, so savage was his look. Even a man might be smitten +with terror at the fierce aspect of one of these animals. + +But at last I heard the bitter crack of the rifle and, raising my head, +I saw her spring up and then drop down again. Then, staggering a short +way up the opposite slope, I saw the slow bulk of the great black bull. +He turned and looked back, his head low, his eyes straight ahead. Then +slowly he kneeled down, and so died, with his forefeet doubled under +him. + +She came running back to me, full of savage joy at her Success, and put +her arm under my shoulder and told me to come. Slowly, fast as I could, +I went with her to our prey. + +We butchered our buffalo as Auberry had showed me, from the backbone +down, as he sat dead on his forearms, splitting the skin along the +spine, and laying it out for the meat to rest upon. Again I made a fire +by shooting a tow wad into such tinder as we could arrange from my coat +lining, having dried this almost into flame by a burning-glass I made +out of a watch crystal filled with water, not in the least a weak sort +of lens. She ran for fuel, and for water, and now we cooked and ate, the +fresh meat seeming excellent to me. Once more now we moved our camp, the +girl returning for the horse and our scanty belongings. + +Always now we ate, haggling out the hump ribs, the tongue, the rich back +fat; so almost immediately we began to gain In strength. All the next +day we worked as we could at drying the meat, and taking the things we +needed from the carcass. We got loose one horn, drying one side of the +head in the fire. I saved carefully all the sinews of the back, knowing +we might need them. Then between us we scraped At the two halves of the +hide, drying it in the sun, fleshing it with our little Indian hoe, and +presently rubbing into it brains from the head of the carcass, as the +hide grew drier in the sun. We were not yet skilled in tanning as the +Indian women are, but we saw that now we would have a house and a bed +apiece, and food, food. We broiled the ribs at our fire, boiled the +broken leg bones in our little kettle. We made fillets of hide to shade +our eyes, she thus binding back the long braids of her hair. We rested +and were comforted. Each hour, it seemed to me, she rounded and became +more beautiful, supple, young, strong--there, in the beginning of the +world. We were rich in these, our belongings, which we shared. + + + + +CHAPTER XXVIII + +TILL DEATH DO PART + + +Hitherto, while I was weak, exhausted, and unable to reason beyond the +vague factors of anxiety and dread, she had cared for me simply, as +though she were a young boy and I an older man. The small details of our +daily life she had assumed, because she still was the stronger. Without +plot or plan, and simply through the stern command of necessity, our +interests had been identical, our plans covered us both as one. At +night, for the sake of warmth, we had slept closely, side by side, both +too weary and worn out to reason regarding that or any other thing. +Once, in the night, I know I felt her arm across my face, upon my head +her hand--she still sleeping, and millions of miles away among the +stars. I would not have waked her. + +But now, behold the strange story of man's advance in what he calls +civilization. Behold what property means in regard to what we call laws. +We were rich now. We had two pieces of robe instead of one. We might be +two creatures now, a man and a woman, a wall between, instead of two +suffering, perishing animals, with but one common need, that of +self-preservation. There were two houses now, two beds; because this +might be and still allow us to survive. Our table was common, and that +was all. + +I grew stronger rapidly. In spite of my wish, my eyes rested upon her; +and thus I noticed that she had changed. My little boy was no longer a +little boy, but some strange creature--I knew hot what--like to nothing +I had ever seen or known; like no woman of the towns, and no savage of +the plains, but better than both and different from either, inscrutable, +sweet, yes, and very sad. Often I saw tears in her eyes. + +During that first night when we slept apart, the wolves came very close +to our meat heaps and set up their usual roaring chorus. The terror of +this she could not endure, and so she came creeping with her half robe +to my side where I lay. That was necessary. Later that night when she +awoke under the shelter of her half hide, she found me sitting awake, +near the opening. But she would not have me put over her my portion of +the robe. She made of our party two individuals, and that I must +understand. I must understand now that society was beginning again, and +law, and custom. My playfellow was gone. I liked scarce so well this new +creature, with the face of a Sphinx, the form of a woman, the eyes of +something hurt, that wept--that wept, because of these results of my own +awkwardness and misfortunes. + +I say that I was growing stronger. At night, in front of her poor +shelter, I sat and thought, and looked out at the stars. The stars said +to me that life and desire were one, that the world must go on, that all +the future of the world rested with us two. But at this I rebelled. "Ah, +prurient stars!" I cried, "and evil of mind! What matters it that you +suffer or that I suffer? Let the world end, yes, let the world end +before this strange new companion, gained in want, and poverty, and +suffering, and now lost by reason of comforts and health, shall shed one +tear of suffering!" + +But sometimes, worn out by watching, I, too, must lie down. Again, in +her sleep, I felt her arm rest upon my neck. Now, God give me what He +listeth, but may not this thing come to me again. + +For now, day by day, night by night, against all my will and wish, +against all my mind and resolution, I knew that I was loving this new +being with all my heart and all my soul, forsaking all others, and that +this would be until death should us part. I knew that neither here nor +elsewhere in the world was anything which could make me whole of +this--no principles of duty or honor, no wish nor inclination nor +resolve! + +I had eaten. I loved. I saw what life is. + +I saw the great deceit of Nature. I saw her plan, her wish, her +merciless, pitiless desire; and seeing this, I smiled slowly in the dark +at the mockery of what we call civilization, its fuss and flurry, its +pretense, its misery. Indeed, we are small, but life is not small. We +are small, but love is very large and strong, born as it is of the great +necessity that man shall not forget the world, that woman shall not rob +the race. + +For myself, I accepted my station in this plan, saying nothing beyond my +own soul. None the less, I said there to my own soul, that this must be +now, till death should come to part us twain. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIX + +THE GARDEN + + +Soon now we would be able to travel; but whither, and for what purpose? +I began to shrink from the thought of change. This wild world was enough +for me. So long as we might eat and sleep thus, and so long as I might +not lose sight of her, it seemed to me I could not anywhere gain in +happiness and content. Elsewhere I must lose both. + +None the less we must travel. We had been absent now from civilization +some three weeks, and must have been given up long since. Our party must +have passed far to the westward, and by this time our story was known at +Laramie and elsewhere. Parties were no doubt in search of us at that +time. But where should these search in that wilderness of the unknown +Plains. How should it be known that we were almost within touch of the +great highway of the West, now again thronging with wagon trains? By +force of these strange circumstances which I have related we were +utterly gone, blotted out; our old world no longer existed for us, nor +we for it. + +As I argued to myself again and again, the laws and customs of that +forgotten world no longer belonged to us. We must build laws again, laws +for the good of the greatest number. I can promise, who have been in +place to know, that in one month's time civilization shall utterly fade +away from the human heart, that a new state of life shall within that +space enforce itself, so close lies the savage in us always to the skin. +This vast scheme of organized selfishness, which is called civilization, +shall within three weeks be forgot and found useless, be rescinded as a +contract between remaining units of society. This vast fabric of waste +and ruin known as wealth shall be swept away at a breath within one +month. Then shall endure only the great things of life. Above those +shall stand two things--a woman and a man. Without these society is not, +these two, a woman and a man. + +So I would sit at night, nodding under the stars, and vaguely dreaming +of these matters, and things came to me sweetly, things unknown in our +ignorance and evil of mind, as we live in what we call civilization. +They would become clear underneath the stars; and then the dawn would +come, and she would come and sit by me, looking out over the Plains at +the shimmering pictures. "What do you see?" she would ask of me. + +"I see the ruins of that dome known as the capitol of our nation," I +said to her, "where they make laws. See, it is in ruins, and what I see +beyond is better." + +"Then what more do you see," she would ask. + +"I see the ruins of tall buildings of brick and iron, prisons where +souls are racked, and deeds of evil are done, and iron sunk into human +hearts, and vice and crime, and oppression and wrong of life and love +are wrought. These are in ruins, and what I see beyond is better." +Humoring me, she would ask that I would tell her further what I saw. + +"I see the ruins of tall spires, where the truth was offered by bold +assertion. I see the ruins of religion, corrupt because done for gain. + +"I see houses also, much crowded, where much traffic and bartering and +evil was done, much sale of flesh and blood and love and happiness, +ruin, unhappiness. And what I see now is far better than all that." + +"And then--" she whispered faintly, her hand upon my sleeve, and looking +out with me over the Plains, where the mirage was wavering. + +"I see there," I said, and pointed it out to her, "only a Garden, a +vast, sweet Garden. And there arises a Tree---one Tree." + +This was my world. But she, looking out over the Plains, still saw with +the eye of yesterday. Upon woman the artificial imprint of heredity is +set more deeply than with man. The commands of society are wrought into +her soul. + + + + +CHAPTER XXX + +THEY TWAIN + + +Even as we were putting together our small belongings for the resumption +of our journey, I looked up and saw what I took to be a wolf, stalking +along in the grass near the edge of our encampment. I would have shot +it, but reflected that I must not waste a shot on wolves. Advancing +closer toward it, as something about its motions attracted me, I saw it +was a dog. It would not allow me to approach, but as Ellen came it lay +down in the grass, and she got close to it. + +"It is sick," she said, "or hurt," and she tossed it a bone. + +"Quick," I called out to her, "get it! Tame it. It is worth more than +riches to us, that dog." + +So she, coaxing it, at last got her hands upon its head, though it would +not wag its tail or make any sign of friendship. It was a wolfish +mongrel Indian dog. One side of its head was cut or crushed, and it +seemed that possibly some squaw had struck it, with intent perhaps to +put it into the kettle, but with aim so bad that the victim had escaped. + +To savage man, a dog is of nearly as much use as a horse. Now we had a +horse and a dog, and food, and weapons, and shelter. It was time we +should depart, and we now were well equipped to travel. But whither? + +"It seems to me," said I, "that our safest plan is to keep away from the +Platte, where the Indians are more apt to be. If we keep west until we +reach the mountains, we certainly will be above Laramie, and then if we +follow south along the mountains, we must strike the Platte again, and +so find Laramie, if we do not meet any one before that time." It may be +seen how vague was my geography in regard to a region then little known +to any. + +"My father will have out the whole Army looking for us," said Ellen +Meriwether to me. "We may be found any day." + +But for many a day we were not found. We traveled westward day after +day, she upon the horse, I walking with the dog. We had a rude travois, +which we forced our horse to draw, and our little belongings we carried +in a leathern bag, slung between two lodge poles. The dog we did not yet +load, although the rubbed hair on his shoulders showed that he was used +to harness. + +At times on these high rolling plains we saw the buffalo, and when our +dried meat ran low I paused for food, not daring to risk waste of our +scanty ammunition at such hard game as antelope. Once I lay at a path +near a water hole in the pocket of a half-dried stream, and killed two +buffalo cows. Here was abundant work for more than two days, cutting, +drying, scraping, feasting. Life began to run keen in our veins, in +spite of all. I heard her sing, that day, saw her smile. Now our worldly +goods were increasing, so I cut down two lodge poles and made a little +travois for the dog. We had hides enough now for a small tent, needing +only sufficient poles. + +"Soon," said she to me, "we will be at Laramie." + +"Pray God," said I to myself, "that we never may see Laramie!" I have +said that I would set down the truth. And this is the truth; I was +becoming a savage. I truly wanted nothing better. I think this might +happen to many a man, at least of that day. + +We forded several streams, one a large one, which I now think must have +been the North Platte; but no river ran as we fancied the Platte must +run. So we kept on, until we came one day to a spot whence we saw +something low and unmoving and purple, far off in the northwest. This we +studied, and so at length saw that it was the mountains. At last our +journeying would change, at least, perhaps terminate ere long. A few +more days would bring us within touch of this distant range, which, as I +suppose now, might possibly have been a spur of what then were still +called the Black Hills, a name which applied to several ranges far to +the west and south of the mountains now so called. Or perhaps these were +peaks of the mountains later called the Laramie Range. + +Then came a thing hard for us to bear. Our horse, hobbled as usual for +the night, and, moreover, picketed on a long rope I had made from +buffalo hides, managed some time in the night to break his hobbles and +in some way to pull loose the picket pin. When we saw that he was gone +we looked at each other blankly. + +"What shall we do?" she asked me in horror. For the first time I saw her +sit down in despair. "We are lost! What shall we do?" she wailed. + +I trailed the missing horse for many miles, but could only tell he was +going steadily, lined out for some distant point. I dared not pursue him +farther and leave her behind. An hour after noon I returned and sullenly +threw myself on the ground beside her at our little bivouac. I could +not bear to think of her being reduced to foot travel over all these +cruel miles. Yet, indeed, it now must come to that. + +"We have the dog," said I at length. "We can carry a robe and a little +meat, and walk slowly. I can carry a hundred pound pack if need be, and +the dog can take twenty-five--" + +"And I can carry something," she said, rising with her old courage. "It +is my part." I made her a pack of ten pounds, and soon seeing that it +was too heavy, I took it from her and threw it on my own. + +"At least I shall carry the belt," she said. And so she took my belt, +with its flask and bullet pouch, the latter now all too scantily filled. + +Thus, sore at heart, and somewhat weary, we struggled on through that +afternoon, and sank down beside a little water hole. And that night, +when I reached to her for my belt that we might again make our fire, she +went pale and cried aloud that she had lost it, and that now indeed we +must die! + +I could hardly comfort her by telling her that on the morrow I would +certainly find it. I knew that in case I did not our plight indeed was +serious. She wept that night, wept like a child, starting and moaning +often in her sleep. That night, for the first time, I took her in my +arms and tried to comfort her. I, being now a savage, prayed to the +Great Spirit, the Mystery, that my own blood might not be as water, that +my heart might be strong--the old savage prayers of primitive man +brought face to face with nature. + +When morning came I told her I must go back on the trail. "See, now, +what this dog has done for us," I said. "The scratches on the ground of +his little travois poles will make a trail easy to be followed. I must +take him with me and run back the trail. For you, stay here by the water +and no matter what your fears, do not move from here in any case, even +if I should not be back by night." + +"But what if you should not come back!" she said, her terror showing in +her eyes. + +"But I will come back," I replied. "I will never leave you. I would rise +from my grave to come back to you. But the time has not yet come to lie +down and die. Be strong. We shall yet be safe." + +So I was obliged to turn and leave her sitting alone there, the gray +sweep of the merciless Plains all about her. Another woman would have +gone mad. + +But it was as I said. This dog was our savior. Without his nose I could +not have traced out the little travois trail; but he, seeing what was +needed, and finding me nosing along and doubling back and seeking on the +hard ground, seemed to know what was required, or perhaps himself +thought to go back to some old camp for food. So presently he trotted +along, his ears up, his nose straight ahead; and I, a savage, depended +upon a creature still a little lower in the order of life, and that +creature proved a faithful servant. + +We went on at a swinging walk, or trot, or lope, as the ground said, and +ate up the distance at twice the speed we had used the day before. In a +couple of hours I was close to where she had taken the belt, and so at +last I saw the dog drop his nose and sniff. There were the missing +riches, priceless beyond gold--the little leaden balls, the powder, dry +in its horn, the little rolls of tow, the knife swung at the girdle! I +knelt down there on the sand, I, John Cowles, once civilized and now +heathen, and I raised my frayed and ragged hands toward the Mystery, and +begged that I might be forever free of the great crime of thanklessness. +Then, laughing at the dog, and loping on tireless as when I was a boy, I +ran as though sickness and weakness had never been mine, and presently +came back to the place where I had left her. + +She saw me coming. She ran out to meet me, holding out her arms.... I +say she came, holding out her arms to me. + +"Sit down here by my side," I commanded her. "I must talk to you. I +will--I will." + +"Do not," she implored of me, seeing what was in my mind. "Ah, what +shall I do! You are not fair!" + +But I took her hands in mine. "I can endure it no longer," I said. "I +will not endure it." + +She looked at me with her eyes wide--looked me full in the face with +such a gaze as I have never seen on any woman's face. + +"I love you," I said to her. "I have never loved any one else. I can +never love any one again but you." I say that I, John Cowles, had at +that moment utterly forgotten all of life and all of the world except +this, then and there. "I love you!" I said, over and over again to her. + +She pushed away my arm. "They are all the same," she said, as though to +herself. + +"Yes, all the same," I said. "There is no man who would not love you, +here or anywhere." + +"To how many have you said that?" she asked me, frowning, as though +absorbed, studious, intent on some problem. + +"To some," I said to her, honestly. "But it was never thus." + +She curled her lip, scorning the truth which she had asked now that she +had it. "And if any other woman were here it would be the same. It is +because I am here, because we are alone, because I am a woman--ah, that +is neither wise nor brave nor good of you!" + +"That is not true! Were it any other woman, yes, what you say might be +true in one way. But I love you not because you are a woman. It is +because you are Ellen. You would be the only woman in the world, no +matter where we were nor how many were about us. Though I could choose +from all the world, it would be the same!" + +She listened with her eyes far away, thinking, thinking. "It is the old +story," she sighed. + +"Yes, the old story," I said. "It is the same story, the old one. There +are the witnesses, the hills, the sky." + +"You seem to have thought of such things," she said to me, slowly. "I +have not thought. I have simply lived along, enjoying life, not +thinking. Do we love because we are but creatures? I cannot be loved +so--I will not be! I will not submit that what I have sometimes dreamed +shall be so narrow as this. John Cowles, a woman must be loved for +herself, not for her sex, by some one who is a man, but who is beside--" + +"Oh, I have said all that. I loved you the first time I saw you--the +first time, there at the dance." + +"And forgot, and cared for another girl the next day.' She argued that +all over again. + +"That other girl was you," I once more reiterated. + +"And again you forgot me." + +"And again what made me forget you was yourself! Each time you were that +other girl, that other woman. Each time I have seen you you have been +different, and each time I have loved you over again. Each day I see you +now you are different, Ellen, and each day I love you more. How many +times shall I solve this same problem, and come to the same answer. I +tell you, the thing is ended and done for me." + +"It is easy to think so here, with only the hills and skies to see and +hear." + +"No, it would be the same," I said. "It is not because of that." + +"It is not because I am in your power?" she said. She turned and faced +me, her hands on my shoulders, looking me full in the eye. The act a +brave one. + +"Because I am in your power, John Cowles?" she asked. "Because by +accident you have learned that I am a comely woman, as you are a strong +man, normal, because I am fit to love, not ill to look at? Because a +cruel accident has put me where my name is jeopardized forever--in a +situation out of which I can never, never come clean again--is _that_ +why? Do you figure that I am a woman because you are a man? Is that why? +Is it because you know I am human, and young, and fit for love? Ah, I +know that as well as you. But I am in your hands--I am in your power. +That is why I say, John Cowles, that you must try to think, that you +must do nothing which shall make me hate you or make you hate yourself." + +"I thought you missed me when I was gone," I murmured faintly. + +"I did miss you," she said. "The world seemed ended for me. I needed +you, I wanted you--" I turned toward her swiftly. "Wanted me?" + +"I was glad to see you come back. While you were gone I thought. Yes, +you have been brave and you have been kind, and you have been strong. +Now I am only asking you still to be brave, and kind, and strong." + +"But do you love me, will you love me--can you--" + +"Because we are here," she said, "I will not answer. What is right, John +Cowles, that we should do." + +Woman is strongest when armored in her own weakness. My hands fell to +the ground beside me. The heats vanished from my blood. I shuddered. I +could not smile without my mouth going crooked, I fear. But at last I +smiled as best I could, and I said to her, "Ellen! Ellen!" That was all +I could find to say. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXI + +THE BETROTHAL + + +Strength came to us as we had need, and gradually even the weaker of us +two became able to complete the day's journey without the exhaustion it +at first had cost her. Summer was now upon us, and the heat at midday +was intense, although the nights, as usual, were cold. Deprived of all +pack animals, except our dog, we were perforce reduced to the lightest +of gear, and discomfort was our continual lot. Food, however, we could +still secure, abundant meat, and sometimes the roots of plants which I +dug up and tested, though I scarce knew what they were. + +We moved steadily on toward the west and northwest, but although we +crossed many old Indian trails, we saw no more of these travelers of the +Plains. At that time the country which we were traversing had no white +population, although the valley of the Platte had long been part of a +dusty transcontinental highway. It was on this highway that the savages +were that summer hanging, and even had we been certain of its exact +location, I should have feared to enter the Platte valley, lest we +should meet red men rather than white. + +At times we lost the buffalo for days, more especially as we approached +the foothills of the mountains, and although antelope became more +numerous there, they were far more difficult to kill, and apt to cost us +more of our precious ammunition. I planned to myself that if we did not +presently escape I would see what might be done toward making a bow and +arrows for use on small game, which we could not afford to purchase at +the cost of precious powder and ball. + +I was glad, therefore, when we saw the first timber of the foothills; +still gladder, for many reasons, when I found that we were entering the +winding course of a flattened, broken stream, which presently ran back +into a shingly valley, hedged in by ranks of noble mountains, snow white +on their peaks. Here life should prove easier to us for the time, the +country offering abundant shelter and fuel, perhaps game, and certainly +change from the monotony of the Plains. + +Here, I said to myself, our westward journey must end. It would be +bootless to pass beyond Laramie into the mountains, and our next course, +I thought, must be toward the south. I did not know that we were then +perhaps a hundred miles or more northwest of Laramie, deep in a mountain +range far north of the transcontinental trail. For the time, however, it +seemed wise to tarry here for rest and recruiting. I threw down the +pack. "Now," said I to her, "we rest." + +"Yes," she replied, turning her face to the south, "Laramie is that way +now. If we stop here my father will come and find us. But then, how +could he find us, little as we are, in this big country? Our trail would +not be different from that of Indians, even if they found it fresh +enough to read. Suppose they _never_ found us!" + +"Then," said I, "we should have to live here, forever and ever." + +She looked at me curiously. "Could we?" she asked. + +"Until I was too old to hunt, you too weak to sew the robes or cook the +food." + +"What would happen then?" + +"We would die," said I. "The world would end, would have to begin all +over again and wait twice ten million years until man again was evolved +from the amoeba, the reptile, the ape. When we died, this dog here would +be the only hope of the world." + +She looked at the eternal hills in their snow, and made no answer. +Presently we turned to our duties about the camp. + +It was understood that we should stay here for at least two days, to +mend our clothing and prepare food for the southern journey. I have said +I was not happy at the thought of turning toward that world which I had +missed so little. Could the wild freedom of this life have worked a +similar spell on her? The next day she came to me as I sat by our meager +fireside. Without leading of mine she began a manner of speech until now +foreign to her. + +"What is marriage, John Cowles?" she asked of me, abruptly, with no +preface. + +"It is the Plan," I answered, apathetically. She pondered for a time. + +"Are we, then, only creatures, puppets, toys?" + +"Yes," I said to her. "A man is a toy. Love was born before man was +created, before animals or plants. Atom, ran to atom, seeking. It was +love." She pondered yet a while. + +"And what is it, then, John Cowles, that women call 'wrong'?" + +"Very often what is right," I said to her, apathetically. "When two love +the crime is that they shall not wed. When they do not love, the crime +is when they do wed." + +"But without marriage," she hesitated, "the home--" + +"It is the old question," I said. "The home is built on woman's virtue; +but virtue is not the same where there is no tome, no property, where +there is no society--it is an artificial thing, born of compromise, and +grown stronger by custom of the ages of property-owning man." + +I saw a horror come across her eyes. + +"What do you say to me, John Cowles? That what a woman prizes is not +right, is not good? No, that I shall _not_ think!" She drew apart from +me. + +"Because you think just as you do, I love you," I said. + +"Yet you say so many things. I have taken life as it came, just as other +girls do, not thinking. It is not nice, it is not _clean_, that girls +should study over these things. That is not right." + +"No, that is not right," said I, dully. + +"Then tell me, what is marriage--that one thing a girl dreams of all her +life. Is it of the church?" + +"It is not of the church," I said. + +"Then it is the law." + +"It is not the law," I said. + +"Then what is it?" she asked. "John Cowles, tell me, what makes a +wedding between two who really and truly love. Can marriage be of but +two?" + +"Yes," said I. + +"But there must be witnesses--there must be ceremony--else there is no +marriage," she went on. Her woman's brain clung to the safe, sane groove +which alone can guide progress and civilization and society--that great, +cruel, kind, imperative compromise of marriage, without which all the +advancement of the world would be as naught. I loved her for it. But for +me, I say I had gone savage. I was at the beginning of all this, whereas +it remained with her as she had left it. + +"Witnesses?" I said. "Look at those!" I pointed to the mountains. +"Marriages, many of them, have been made with no better witnesses than +those." + +My heart stopped when I saw how far she had jumped to her next speech. + +"Then we two are all the people left in the world, John Cowles? When I +am old, will you cast me off? When another woman comes into this valley, +when I am bent and old, and cannot see, will you cast me off, and, being +stronger than I am, will you go and leave me?" + +I could not speak at first. "We have talked too much," I said to her +presently. But now it was she who would not desist. + +"You see, with a woman it is for better, for worse--but with a man--" + +"With a Saxon man," I said, "it is also for better, for worse. It is one +woman." + +She sat and thought for a long time. "Suppose," she said, "that no one +ever came." + +Now with swift remorse I could see that in her own courage she was +feeling her way, haltingly, slowly, toward solution of problems which +most women take ready solved from others. But, as I thank God, a filmy +veil, softening, refining, always lay between her and reality. In her +intentness she laid hold upon my arm, her two hands clasping. + +"Suppose two were here, a man and a woman, and he swore before those +eternal witnesses that he would not go away any time until she was dead +and laid away up in the trees, to dry away and blow off into the air, +and go back--" + +"Into the flowers," I added, choking. + +"Yes, into the trees and the flowers--so that when she was dead and he +was dead, and they were both gone back into the flowers, they would +still know each other for ever and ever and never be ashamed--would that +be a marriage before God, John Cowles?" + +What had I brought to this girl's creed of life, heretofore always so +sweet and usual? I did not answer. She shook at my arm. "Tell me!" she +said. But I would not tell her. + +"Suppose they did not come," she said once more. "It is true, they may +not find us. Suppose we two were to live here alone, all this +winter--just as we are now--none of my people or yours near us. Could we +go on?" + +"God! Woman, have you no mercy!" + +She sat and pondered for yet a time, as though seriously weighing some +question in her mind. + +"But you have taught me to think, John Cowles. It is you who have begun +my thinking, so now I must think. I know we cannot tell what may happen. +I ask you, 'John Cowles, if we were brought to that state which we both +know might happen--if we were here all alone and no one came, and if you +loved me--ah, then would you promise, forever and forever, to love me +till death did us part--till I was gone back into the flowers? I +remember what they say at weddings. They cling one to the other, +forsaking all others, till death do them part. Could you promise me--in +that way? Could you promise me, clean and solemn? Because, I would not +promise you unless it was solemn, and clean, and unless it was forever." + +Strange, indeed, these few days in the desert, which had so drawn apart +the veil of things and left us both ready to see so far. She had not +seen so far as I, but, womanlike, had reasoned more quickly. + +As for me, it seemed that I saw into her heart. I dropped my hands from +my eyes and looked at her strangely, my own brain in a whirl, my logic +gone. All I knew was that then or elsewhere, whether or not rescue ever +came for us, whether we died now or later, there or anywhere in all the +world, I would, indeed, love her and her only, forsaking all others +until, indeed, we were gone back into the sky and flowers, until we +whispered again in the trees, one unto the other! Marriage or no +marriage, together or apart, in sickness or in health--so there came to +me the stern conviction--love could knock no more at my heart, where +once she had stood in her courage and her cleanness. Reverence, I say, +was now the one thing left in my heart. Still we sat, and watched the +sun shine on the distant white-topped peaks. I turned to her slowly at +length. + +"Ellen," I said, "do you indeed love me?" + +"How can I help it, John Cowles," she answered bravely. My heart stopped +short, then raced on, bursting all control. It was long before I could +be calm as she. + +"You have helped it very long," I said at last, quietly. "But now I must +know--would you love me anywhere, in any circumstances, in spite of all? +I love you because you are You, not because you are here. I must be +loved in the same way, always." + +She looked at me now silently, and I leaned and kissed her full on the +mouth. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXII + +THE COVENANT + + +She did not rebel or draw away, but there was that on her face, I say, +which left me only reverent. Her hand fell into mine. We sat there, +plighted, plighted in our rags and misery and want and solitude. Though +I should live twice the allotted span of man, never should I forget what +came into my soul that hour. + +After a time I turned from her, and from the hills, and from the sky, +and looked about us at the poor belongings with which we were to begin +our world. All at once my eye fell upon one of our lighter robes, now +fairly white with much working. I drew it toward me, and with her still +leaning against my shoulder, I took up a charred stick, and so, +laboriously, I wrote upon the surface of the hide, these words of our +covenant: + +"_I, John Cowles, take thee, Ellen Meriwether, to be my lawful, wedded +wife, in sickness, and in health, for better of for worse, till death do +us part._" + +And I signed it; and made a seal after my name. + +"Write," said I to her. "Write as I have written." + +She took a fresh brand, blackened at the end, and in lesser characters +wrote slowly, letter by letter: + +"_I, Ellen Meriwether, take thee, John Cowles, to be my lawful, wedded +husband_--" She paused, but I would not urge her, and it was moments +before she resumed--"_in sickness and in health, for better or for +worse_--" Again she paused, thinking, thinking--and so concluded, "_till +death do us part_." + +"It means," she said to me, simply as a child, "until we have both gone +back into the flowers and the trees." + +I took her hand in mine. Mayhap book and bell and organ peal and +vestured choir and high ceremony of the church may be more solemn; but +I, who speak the truth from this very knowledge, think it could not be. + +"When you have signed that, Ellen," I said to her at last, "we two are +man and wife, now and forever, here and any place in the world. That is +a binding ceremony, and it endows you with your share of all my +property, small or large as that may be. It is a legal wedding, and it +holds us with all the powers the law can have. It is a contract." + +"Do not talk to me of contracts," she said. "I am thinking of nothing +but our--wedding." + +Still mystical, still enigma, still woman, she would have it that the +stars, the mountains---the witnesses--and not ourselves, made the +wedding. I left it so, sure of nothing so much as that, whatever her way +of thought might be, it was better than my own. + +"But if I do not sign this?" she asked at length. + +"Then we are not married." + +She sighed and laid down the pen. "Then I shall not sign it--yet," she +said. + +I caught up her hand as though I would write for her. + +"No," she said, "it shall be only our engagement, our troth between us. +This will be our way. I have not yet been sufficiently wooed, John +Cowles!" + +I looked into her eyes and it seemed to me I saw there something of the +same light I had seen when she was the masked coquette of the Army +ball--the yearning, the melancholy, the mysticism, the challenge, the +invitation and the doubting--ah, who shall say what there is in a +woman's eye! But I saw also what had been in her eyes each time I had +seen her since that hour. I left it so, knowing that her way would be +best. + +"When we have escaped," she went on, "if ever we do escape, then this +will still be our troth, will it not, John Cowles?" + +"Yes, and our marriage, when you have signed, now or any other time." + +"But if you had ever signed words like these with any _other_ woman, +then it would not be our marriage nor our troth, would it, John Cowles?" + +"No," I said. _And, then I felt my face grow ashy cold and pale in one +sudden breath!_ + +"But why do you look so sad?" she asked of me, suddenly. "Is it not well +to wait?" + +"Yes, it is well to wait," I said. She was so absorbed that she did not +look at me closely at that instant. + +Again she took up the charred stick in her little hand, and hesitated. +"See," she said, "I shall sign one letter of my name each week, until +all my name is written! Till that last letter we shall be engaged. After +the last letter, when I have signed it of my own free will, and clean, +and solemn--clean and solemn, John Cowles--then we will be--Oh, take me +home--take me to my father, John Cowles! This is a hard place for a girl +to be." + +Suddenly she dropped her face into her hands, sobbing. + +She hid her head on my breast, sore distressed now. She was glad that +she might now be more free, needing some manner of friend; but she was +still--what? Still woman! Poor Saxon I must have been had I not sworn to +love her fiercely and singly all my life. But yet-- + +I looked at the robe, now fallen loose upon the ground, and saw that she +had affixed one letter of her name and stopped. She smiled wanly. "Your +name would be shorter to sign a little at a time," she said; "but a girl +must have time. She must wait. And see," she said, "I have no ring. A +girl always has a ring." + +This lack I could not solve, for I had none. + +"Take mine," she said, removing the ring with the rose seal. "Put it on +the other finger--the--the right one." + +I did so; and I kissed her. But yet-- + +She was weary and strained now. A pathetic droop came to the corners of +her mouth. The palm of her little hand turned up loosely, as though she +had been tired and now was resting. "We must wait," she said, as though +to herself. + +But what of me that night? When I had taken my own house and bed beyond +a little thicket, that she might be alone, that night I found myself +breathing hard in terror and dread, gazing up at the stars in agony, +beating my hands on the ground at the thought of the ruin I had wrought, +the crime that I had done in gaining this I had sought. + +I had written covenants before! I have said that I would tell simply the +truth in these pages, and this is the truth, the only extenuation I may +claim. The strength and sweetness of all this strange new life with her +had utterly wiped out my past, had put away, as though forever, the +world I once had known. Until the moment Ellen Meriwether began the +signing of her name, I swear I had forgotten that ever in the world was +another by name of Grace Sheraton! I may not be believed--I ought not to +be believed; but this is the truth and the truth by what measure my love +for Ellen Meriwether was bright and fixed, as much as my promise to the +other had been ill-advised and wrong. + +A forsworn man, I lay there, thinking of her, sweet, simple, serious and +trusting, who had promised to love me, an utterly unworthy man, until we +two should go back into the flowers. + +Far rather had I been beneath the sod that moment; for I knew, since I +loved Ellen Meriwether, _she must not complete the signing of her name +upon the scroll of our covenant!_ + + + + +CHAPTER XXXIII + +THE FLAMING SWORD + + +The question of food ever arose for settlement, and early the next +morning I set out upon a short exploring expedition through our new +country, to learn what I might of its resources. There were trout in our +little mountain stream, and although we had no hooks or lines I managed +to take a few of these in my hands, chasing them under the stones. Also +I found many berries now beginning to ripen, and as the forest growth +offered us new supplies, I gathered certain barks, thinking that we +might make some sort of drink, medicinal if not pleasant. Tracks of deer +were abundant; I saw a few antelope, and supposed that possibly these +bolder slopes might hold mountain sheep. None of these smaller animals +was so useful to us as the buffalo, for each would cost as much +expenditure of precious ammunition, and yield less return in bulk. I +shook the bullet pouch at my belt, and found it light. We had barely two +dozen bullets left; and few hunters would promise themselves over a +dozen head of big game for twice as many shots. + +I cast about me in search of red cedar that I might make a bow. I +searched the willow thicket for arrow shafts, and prowled among little +flints and pointed stones on the shores of our stream, seeking arrow +points. It finally appeared to me that we might rest here for a time and +be fairly safe to make a living in some way. Then, as I was obliged to +admit, we would need to hurry on to the southward. + +But again fate had its way with us, setting aside all plans. When I +returned to our encampment, instead of seeing Ellen come out to meet me +as I expected, I found her lying in the shade of the little tepee. + +"You are hurt!" I cried. "What has happened?" + +"My foot," said she, "I think it is broken!" She was unable to stand. + +As she could, catching her breath, she told me how this accident had +happened. Walking along the stony creek bank, she had slipped, and her +moccasined foot, caught in the narrow crack between two rocks, had been +held fast as she fell forward. It pained her now almost unbearably. +Tears stood in her eyes. + +So now it was my term to be surgeon. Tenderly as I might, I examined the +foot, now badly swollen and rapidly becoming discolored. In spite of her +protest--although I know it hurt me more than herself--I flexed the +joints and found the ankle at least safe. Alas! a little grating in the +smaller bones, just below the instep, told me of a fracture. + +"Ellen," said I to her, "the foot is broken here--two bones, I think, +are gone." + +She sank back upon her robe with an exclamation as much of horror as +pain. + +"What shall we do!" she murmured. "I shall be crippled! I cannot +walk--we shall perish!" + +"No," I said to her, "we shall mend it. In time you will not know it has +happened." Thus we gave courage to each other. + +All that morning I poured water from a little height upon the bared +foot, so that presently the inflammation and the pain lessened. Then I +set out to secure flat splints and some soft bark, and so presently +splintered and bound the foot, skillfully as I knew how; and this must +have brought the broken bones in good juxtaposition, for at least I know +that eventually nature was kind enough to heal this hurt and leave no +trace of it. + +Now, when she was thus helpless and suffering, needing all her strength, +how could I find it in my heart to tell her that secret which it was my +duty to tell? How could I inflict upon her a still more poignant +suffering than this physical one? Each morning I said to myself, +"To-day, if she is better, I will tell her of Grace Sheraton; she must +know." But each time I saw her face I could not tell her. + +Each day she placed a clean white pebble in a little pile at her side. +Presently there were seven. + +"John Cowles," she said to me that morning, "bring me our writing, and +bring me my pen. To-day I must sign another letter." And, smiling, she +did so, looking up into my face with love showing on her own. Had the +charcoal been living flame, and had she written on my bare heart, she +could not have hurt me more. + +Of course, all the simple duties of our life now devolved upon myself. I +must hunt, and keep the camp, and cook, and bring the fuel; so that much +of the time I was by necessity away from her. Feverishly I explored all +our little valley and exulted that here nature was so kind to us. I +trapped hares in little runways. I made me a bow and some arrows, and +very often I killed stupid grouse with these or even with stones or +sticks, as they sat in the trees; and in bark baskets that I made I +brought home many berries, now beginning to ripen fully. Roots and +bulbs as I found them I experimented with, though not with much success. +Occasionally I found fungi which made food. Flowers also I brought to +her, flowers of the early autumn, because now the snows were beginning +to come down lower on the mountains. In two months winter would be upon +us. In one month we would have snow in the valley. + +The little pile of white stones at her side again grew, slowly, slowly. +Letter by letter her name grew invisible form on the scroll of our +covenant--her name, already written, and more deeply, on my heart. On +the fifth week she called once more for her charcoal pen, and signed the +last letter of her Christian name! + +"See, there," she said, "it is all my girl name, E-l-l-e-n." I looked at +it, her hand in mine. + +"'Ellen!'" I murmured. "It is signature enough, because you are the only +Ellen in the world." But she put away my hand gently and said, "Wait." + +She asked me now to get her some sort of cut branch for a crutch, saying +she was going to walk. And walk she did, though resting her foot very +little on the ground. After that, daily she went farther and farther, +watched me as I guddled for trout in the stream, aided me as I picked +berries in the thickets, helped me with the deer I brought into camp. + +"You are very good to me," she said, "and you hunt well. You work. You +are a man, John Cowles. I love you." + +[Illustration: 'OUT THAR IN CALIFORNY THE HILLS ARE FULL OF GOLD'] + +But hearing words so sweet as these to me, still I did not tell her what +secret was in my soul. Each day I said to myself that presently she +would be strong enough to bear it, and that then I would tell her. Each +day that other world seemed vaguer and farther away. But each day passed +and I could not speak. Each day it seemed less worth while to speak. Now +I could not endure the thought of losing her. I say that I could not. +Let none judge me too harshly who have not known the full measure of +this world and that. + +There was much sign of bears in our thickets, and I warned her not to go +out alone after berries where these long-footed beasts now fed +regularly. Sometimes we went there together, with our vessels of bark, +and filled them slowly, as she hobbled along. Our little dog was now +always with us, having become far more tamed and docile with us than is +ever the case of an Indian dog in savagery. One day we wandered in a +dense berry thicket, out of which rose here and there chokecherry trees, +and we began to gather some of these sour fruits for use in the pemmican +which we planned to manufacture. All at once we came to a spot where the +cherry trees were torn down, pulled over, ripped up by the roots. The +torn earth was very fresh, and I knew that the bear that had done the +work could not be far away. + +All at once our dog began to growl and erect his hair, sniffing not at +the foot scent, but looking directly into the thicket just ahead. He +began then to bark, and as he did so there rose, with a sullen sort of +grunt and a champing of jaws like a great hog, a vast yellow-gray +object, whose head topped the bushes that grew densely all about. The +girl at my side uttered a cry of terror and turned to run as best she +might, but she fell, and lay there cowering. + +The grizzly stood looking at me vindictively with little eyes, its ears +back, its jaws working, its paws swinging loosely at its side, the claws +white at the lower end, as though newly sharpened for slaughtering. I +saw then that it was angered by the sight of the dog, and would not +leave us. Each moment I expected to hear it crash through the bush in +its charge. Once down in the brush, there would be small chance of +delivering a fatal shot; whereas now, as it swung its broad head +slightly to one side, the best possible opportunity for killing it +presented itself immediately. Without hesitation I swung up the heavy +barrel, and drew the small silver bead directly on the base of the ear, +where the side bones of a bear's head are flatter and thinner, directly +alongside the brain. The vicious crack of the rifle sounded loud there +in the thicket; but there came no answer in response to it save a +crashing and slipping and a breaking down of the bushes as the vast +carcass fell at full length. The little ball had done its work and found +the brain. + +I knew the bear was dead, but for a time did not venture closely. I +looked about and saw the girl slowly rising on her elbow, her face +uncovered now, but white in terror. I motioned for her to lie still, and +having reloaded, I pushed quietly through the undergrowth. I saw a vast +gray, grizzled heap lying there, shapeless, motionless. Then I shouted +aloud and went back and picked her up and carried her through the broken +thicket, and placed her on the dead body of the grizzly, seating myself +at her side. + +We were two savages, successful now in the chase--successful, indeed, in +winning the capital prize of all savages; for few Indians will attack +the grizzly if it can be avoided. She laid her hand wonderingly upon the +barrel of the rifle, looking at it curiously, that it had been so deadly +as to slay a creature so vast as this. Then she leaned contentedly +against my side, and so we sat there for a time. "John Cowles," she +said, "you are brave. You are very much a man. I am not afraid when you +are with me." I put my arm about her. The world seemed wild and fair and +sweet to me. Life, savage, stern, swept through all my veins. + +The skinning of the bear was a task of some moment, and as we did this +we exulted that we would now have so fine a robe. The coarse meat we +could not use, but the fat I took off in flakes and strips, and hung +upon the bushes around us for later carrying into camp. In this work she +assisted me, hobbling about as best she might. + +We were busy at this, both of us greasy and bloody to our elbows, when +all at once we stopped and looked at each other in silence. We had heard +a sound. To me it sounded like a rifle shot. We listened. It came again, +with others. There was a volley of several shots, sounds certain beyond +any manner of question. + +My heart stopped. She looked at me, some strange thought written upon +her face. It was not joy, nor exultation, nor relief. Her eyes were +large and startled. There was no smile on her face. These things I +noted. I caught her bloody hand in my bloody one, and for an instant I +believed we both meditated flight deeper into the wilderness. Yet I +reasoned that since these shots were fired on our trail, we must be in +all likelihood found in any case, even were these chance hunters coming +into our valley, and not a party searching for us. + +"It may not be any one we know," I said. "It may be Indians." + +"No," said she, "it is my father. They have found us. We must go! +John"--she turned toward me and put her hands on my breast--"John!" I +saw terror, and regret, and resolve look out of her eyes, but not joy +at this deliverance. No, it was not joy that shone in her eyes. None the +less, the ancient yoke of society being offered, we bowed our necks +again, fools and slaves, surrendering freedom, joy, content, as though +that were our duty. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXIV + +THE LOSS OF PARADISE + + +Silently we made our way toward the edge of the thicket where it faced +upon the open valley. All about me I could hear the tinkling and +crashing of fairy crystal walls, the ruins of that vision house I had +builded in my soul. At the edge of the thicket we crouched low, waiting +and looking out over the valley, two savages, laired, suspicious. + +Almost as we paused I saw coming forward the stooping figure of an +Indian trailer, half naked, beleggined, moccasined, following our fresh +tracks at a trot. I covered him with the little silver bead, minded to +end his quest. But before I could estimate his errand, or prepare to +receive him, closely in case he proved an enemy, I saw approaching +around a little point of timber other men, white men, a half dozen of +them, one a tall man in dusty garments, with boots, and hat, and gloves. + +And then I saw her, my promised wife, leave my side, and limp and +stagger forward, her arms outstretched. I saw the yoke of submission, +the covenant of society, once more accepted. + +"Father!" she cried. + +They gathered about us. I saw him look down at her with half horror on +his face. Then I noticed that she was, clad in fringed skins, that her +head covering was a bit of hide, that her hair was burned yellow at the +ends, that her foot coverings were uncouth, that her hands and arms were +brown, where not stained red by the blood in which they had dabbled. I +looked down also at myself, and saw then that I was tall, brown, gaunt, +bearded, ragged, my clothing of wool well-nigh gone, my limbs wound in +puttee bands of hide, my hands large, horny, blackened, rough. I reeked +with grime. I was a savage new drawn from my cave. I dragged behind me +the great grizzled hide of the dead bear, clutched in one hairy hand. +And somber and sullen as any savage, brutal and silent in resentment at +being disturbed, I stared at them. + +"Who are you?" demanded the tall man of me sternly; but still I did not +answer. The girl's hands tugged at his shoulders. "It is my friend," she +said. "He saved me. It is Mr. John Cowles, father, of the Virginia +Cowles family. He has come to see you--" But he did not hear her, or +show that he heard. His arm about her, supporting her as she limped, he +turned back down the valley, and we others followed slowly. + +Presently he came to the rude shelter which had been our home. Without +speaking he walked about the camp, pushed open the door of the little +ragged tepee and looked within. The floor was very narrow. There was one +meager bed of hides. There was one fire. + +"Come with me," he said at length to me. And so I followed him apart, +where a little thicket gave us more privacy. + +His was a strong face, keen under heavy gray brows, with hair that rose +stiff and gray over a high forehead, so that he seemed like some Osage +chief, taller by a third than most men, and naturally a commander among +others. + +"You are John Cowles, sir, then?" he said to me at length, quietly. +"Lieutenant Belknap told me something of this when he came in with his +men from the East." I nodded and waited. + +"Are you aware, sir, of the seriousness of what you have done?" he broke +out. "Why did you not come on to the settlements? What reason was there +for you not coming back at once to the valley of the Platte--here you +are, a hundred miles out of your way, where a man of any intelligence, +it seems to me, would naturally have turned back to the great trail. +Hundreds of wagons pass there every day. There is a stage line with +daily coaches, stations, houses. A telegraph line runs from one end of +the valley to the other. You could not have missed all this had you +struck south. A fool would have known that. But you took my girl--" he +choked up, and pointed to me, ragged and uncouth. + +"Good God! Colonel Meriwether," I cried out at length, "you are not +regretting that I brought her through?" + +"Almost, sir," he said, setting his lips together. "Almost!" + +"Do you regret then that she brought me through--that I owe my life to +her?" + +"Almost, sir," he repeated. "I almost regret it." + +"Then go back--leave us--report us dead!" I broke out, savagely. It was +moments before I could accept this old life again offered me. + +"She is a splendid girl, a noble being," I said to him, slowly, at last. +"She saved me when I was sick and unable to travel. There is nothing I +could do that would pay the debt I owe to her. She is a noble woman, a +princess among women, body and soul." + +"She is like her mother," said he, quietly. "She was too good for this. +Sir, you have done my family a grievous wrong. You have ruined my +daughter's life." + +Now at last I could talk. I struck my hand hard on his shoulder and +looked him full in the eye. "Colonel Meriwether," I said to him, "I am +ashamed of you." + +"What do you mean?" He frowned sternly and shook off my hand. + +"I brought her through," I said, "and if it would do any good, I would +lie down here and die for her. If what I say is not true, draw up your +men for a firing squad and let us end it. I don't care to go back to +Laramie." + +"What good would that do?" said he. "It's the girl's _name_ that's +compromised, man! Why, the news of this is all over the country--the +wires have carried it both sides of the mountains; the papers are full +of it in the East. You have been gone nearly three months together, and +all the world knows it. Don't you suppose all the world will _talk_? Did +I not see--" he motioned his hand toward our encampment. + +He babbled of such things, small, unimportant, to me, late from large +things in life. I interrupted long enough to tell him briefly of our +journey, of our hardships, of what we had gone through, of how my +sickness had rendered it impossible for us to return at once, of how we +had wandered, with what little judgment remained to us, how we had lived +in the meantime. + +He shook his head. "I know men," said he. + +"Yes," said I, "I would have been no man worth the name had I not loved +your daughter. And I admit to you that I shall never love another woman, +not in all my life." + +In answer he flung down on the ground in front of me something that he +carried--the scroll of our covenant, signed by my name and in part by +hers. + +"What does this mean?" he asked. + +"It means," said I, "what it says; that here or anywhere, in sickness or +in health, in adversity or prosperity, until I lie down to die and she +beside me in her time, we two are in the eye of God married; and in the +eye of man would have been, here or wherever else we might be." + +I saw his face pale; but a somber flame came into his eyes. "And you say +this--you, _after all I know regarding you_!" + +Again I felt that old chill of terror and self-reproach strike to my +heart. I saw my guilt once more, horrible as though an actual presence. +I remembered what Ellen Meriwether had said to me regarding any other or +earlier covenant. I recalled my troth, plighted earlier, before I had +ever seen her,--my faith, pledged in another world. So, seeing myself +utterly ruined in my own sight and his and hers, I turned to him at +length, with no pride in my bearing. + +"So I presume Gordon Orme has told you," I said to him. "You know of +Grace Sheraton, back there?" + +His lips but closed the tighter. "Have you told her--have you told this +to my girl?" he asked, finally. + +"Draw up your file!" I cried, springing to my feet. "Execute me! I +deserve it. No, I have not told her. I planned to do so--I should never +have allowed her to sign her name there before I had told her +everything--been fair to her as I could. But her accident left her +weak--I could not tell her--a thousand things delayed it. Yes, it was my +fault." + +He looked me over with contempt. "You are not fit to touch the shoe on +my girl's foot," he said slowly. "But now, since this thing has begun, +since you have thus involved her and compromised her, and as I imagine +in some foul way have engaged her affections--now, I say, it must go on. +When we get to Laramie, by God! sir, you shall marry that girl. And then +out you go, and never see her face again. She is too good for you, but +where you can be of use to her, for this reason, you shall be used." + +I seated myself, my head in my hands, and pondered. He was commanding me +to do that which was my dearest wish in life. But he was commanding me +to complete my own folly. "Colonel Meriwether," said I to him, finally, +"if it would do her any good I would give up my life for her. But her +father can neither tell me how nor when my marriage ceremony runs; nor +can he tell me when to leave the side of the woman who is my wife. I am +subject to the orders of no man in the world." + +"You refuse to do what you have planned to do? Sir, that shows you as +you are. You proposed to--to live with her here, but not be bound to her +elsewhere!" + +"It is not true!" I said to him in somber anger. "I proposed to put +before her the fact of my own weakness, of my own self-deception, which +also was deception of her. I propose to do that now." + +"If you did, she would refuse to look at you again." + +"I know it, but it must be done. I must take my chances." + +"And your chances mean this alternative--either that my girl's +reputation shall be ruined all over the country--all through the Army, +where she is known and loved--or else that her heart must be broken. +This is what it means, Mr. Cowles. This is what you have brought to my +family." + +"Yes," I said to him, slowly, "this is what I have brought." + +"Then which do you choose, sir?" he demanded of me. + +"I choose to break her heart!" I answered. "Because that is the truth, +and that is right. I only know one way to ride, and that is straight." + +He smiled at me coldly in his frosty beard. "That sounds well from you!" +he said bitterly. "Ellen!" he raised his voice. "Ellen, I say, come here +at once!" + +It was my ear which first heard the rustling of her footsteps at the +edge of the thicket as she approached. She came before us slowly, +halting, leaning on her crutch. A soft flush shone through the brown +upon her cheeks. + +I shall not forget in all my life the picture of her as she stood. +Neither shall I forget the change which came across her face as she saw +us sitting there silent, cold, staring at her. Then, lovable in her +rags, beautiful in her savagery, the gentleness of generations of +culture in all her mien in spite of her rude surroundings, she stepped +up and laid her hand upon her father's shoulder, one finger half +pointing at the ragged scroll of hide which lay upon the ground before +us. I loved her--ah, how I loved her then! + +"I signed that, father," she said gently. "I was going to sign it, +little by little, a letter each week. We were engaged--nothing more. But +here or anywhere, some time, I intend to marry Mr. Cowles. This I have +promised of my own free will. He has been both man and gentleman, +father. I love him." + +I heard the groan which came from his throat. She sprang back. "What is +it?" she said. The old fire of her disposition again broke out. + +"What!" she cried. "You object? Listen, I will sign my name now--I will +finish it--give me--give me--" She sought about on the ground for +something which would leave a mark. "I say I have not been his, but will +be, father--as I like, when I like--now, this very night if I +choose--forever! He has done everything for me--I trust him--I know he +is a man of honor, that he--" Her voice broke as she looked at my face. + +"But what--what _is_ it?" she demanded, brokenly, in her own eyes +something of the horror which sat in mine. I say I see her picture now, +tall, straight, sweet, her hands on her lifting bosom, eagerness and +anxiety fighting on her face. + +"Ellen, child, Mr. Cowles has something to tell you." + +Then some one, in a voice which sounded like mine, but was not mine, +told her--told her the truth, which sounded so like a lie. Some one, +myself, yet not myself, went on, cruelly, blackening all the sweet blue +sky for her. Some one--I suppose it was myself, late free--felt the damp +of an iron yoke upon his neck. + +I saw her knees sink beneath her, but she shrank back when I would have +reached out an arm as of old. + +"I hate that woman!" she blazed. "Suppose she does love you--do I not +love you more? Let her lose--some one must lose!" But at the next moment +her anger had changed to doubt, to horror. I saw her face change, saw +her hand drop to her side. + +"It is not that you loved another girl," she whispered, "but that you +have deceived _me_--here, when I was in your power. Oh, it was not +right! How could you! Oh, how could you!" + +Then once more she changed. The flame of her thoroughbred soul came back +to her. Her courage saved her from shame. Her face flushed, she stood +straight. "I hate _you!_" she cried to me. "Go! I will never see you any +more." + +Still the bright sun shone on. A little bird trilled in the thicket +near. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXV + +THE YOKE + + +When we started to the south on the following morning, I rode far at the +rear, under guard. I recall little of our journey toward Laramie, save +that after a day or two we swung out from the foothills into a short +grass country, and so finally struck the steady upward sweep of a valley +along which lay the great transcontinental trail. I do not know whether +we traveled two days, or three, or four, since all the days seemed night +to me, and all the nights were uniform in torture. Finally, we drove +down into a dusty plain, and so presently came to the old frontier fort. +Here, then, was civilization--the stage coach, the new telegraph wire, +men and women, weekly or daily touch with the world, that prying +curiosity regarding the affairs of others which we call news. To me it +seemed tawdry, sordid, worthless, after that which I had left. The noise +seemed insupportable, the food distasteful. I could tolerate no roof, +and in my own ragged robes slept on the ground within the old stockade. + +I was still guarded as a prisoner; I was approached by none and had +conversation with none until evening of the day after my arrival. When I +ate, it was at no gentleman's table, but in the barracks. I resented +judgment, sentence and punishment, thus executed in one. + +Evening gun had sounded, and the flag had been furled on my second day +at Laramie, when finally Colonel Meriwether sent for me to come to his +office quarters. He got swiftly enough to the matters on his mind. + +"Mr. Cowles," said he, "it is time now that you and I had a talk. +Presently you will be leaving Laramie. I can not try you by court +martial, for you are a civilian. In short, all I can say to you is to +go, with the hope that you may never again cross our lives." + +I looked at him a time, silently, hating not him personally as much as I +hated all the world. But presently I asked him, "Have you no word for me +from her?" + +"Miss Meriwether has no word for you," he answered, sternly, "nor ever +will have. You are no longer necessary in her plans." + +"Ah, then," said I, "you have changed your own mind mightily." + +He set his lips together in his grim fashion. "Yes," said he, "I have +changed my mind absolutely. I have just come from a very trying +interview. It is not necessary for me to explain to you the full nature +of it--" + +"Then she has sent for me?" + +"She will never send for you, I have said." + +"But listen. At least, I have brought her back to you safe and sound. +Setting aside all my own acts in other matters, why can you not remember +at least so much as that? Yet you treat me like a dog. I tell you, I +shall not leave without word from her, and when I leave I shall make no +promises as to when I shall or shall not come back. So long as one +chance remains--" + +"I tell you that there is no longer any chance, no longer the ghost of a +chance. It is my duty to inform you, sir, that a proper suitor long ago +applied for my daughter's hand, that he has renewed his suit, and that +now she has accepted him." + +For a time I sat staring stupidly at him. "You need speak nothing but +the truth with me," I said at last. "Colonel Meriwether, I have never +given bonds to be gentle when abused." + +"I am telling you the truth," he said. "By God, sir! Miss Meriwether is +engaged to Lieutenant Lawrence Belknap of the Ninth Dragoons! You feel +your honor too deeply touched? Perhaps at a later time Lieutenant +Belknap will do himself the disgrace of accommodating you." + +All these things seemed to dull and stupefy me rather than excite. I +could not understand. + +"If I killed him," said I, finally, "how would it better her case? +Moreover, before I could take any more risk, I must go back to Virginia. +My mother needs me there most sadly." + +"Yes, and Miss Grace Sheraton needs you there sadly, as well," he +retorted. "Go back, then, and mend your promises, and do some of those +duties which you now begin to remember. You have proved yourself a man +of no honor. I stigmatize you now as a coward." + +There seemed no tinder left in my spirit to flame at this spark. "You +speak freely to your prisoner, Colonel Meriwether," I said, slowly, at +length. "There is time yet for many risks--chances for many things. But +now I think you owe it to me to tell me how this matter was arranged." + +"Very well, then. Belknap asked me for permission to try his chance long +ago--before I came west to Laramie. I assigned him to bring her through +to me. He was distracted at his failure to do so. He has been out with +parties all the summer, searching for you both, and has not been back +at Laramie more than ten days. Oh, we all knew why you did not come back +to the settlements. When we came in he guessed all that you know. He +knew that all the world would talk. And like a man he asked the right to +silence all that talk forever." + +"And she agreed? Ellen Meriwether accepted him on such terms?" + +"It is arranged," said he, not answering me directly, "and it removes at +once all necessity for any other arrangement. As for you, you disappear. +It will be announced all through the Army that she and Lieutenant +Belknap were married at Leavenworth before they started West, and that +it was they two, and not you and my daughter, who were lost." + +"And Belknap was content to do this?" I mused. "He would do this after +Ellen told him that she loved me--" + +"Stop!" thundered Colonel Meriwether. "I have told you all that is +necessary. I will add that he said to me, like the gentleman he is, that +in case my daughter asked it, _he_ would marry her and leave her at +once, until she of her own free will asked him to return. There is +abundant opportunity for swift changes in the Army. What seems to you +absurd will work out in perfectly practical fashion." + +"Yes," said I, "in fashion perfectly practical for the ruin of her life. +You may leave mine out of the question." + +"I do, sir," was his icy reply. "She told you to your face, and in my +hearing, that you had deceived her, that you must go." + +"Yes," I said, dully, "I did deceive her, and there is no punishment on +earth great enough to give me for that--except to have no word from +her!" + +"You are to go at once. I put it beyond you to understand Belknap's +conduct in this matter." + +"He is a gentleman," I said, "and fit to love her. I think none of us +needs praise or blame for that." + +He choked up. "She's my girl," he said. "Yes, all my boys in the Army +love her--there isn't one of them that wouldn't be proud to marry her on +any terms she would lay down. And there isn't a man in the Army, married +or single, that wouldn't challenge you if you breathed a word of what +has gone between you and her." + +I looked at him and made no motion. It seemed to me go unspeakably sad, +so incredible, that one should be so unbelievably underestimated. + +"Now, finally," resumed Colonel Meriwether, after a time, ceasing his +walking up and down, "I must close up what remains between you and me. +My daughter said to me that you wanted to see me on some business +matter. Of course you had some reason for coming out here." + +"That was my only reason for coming," I rejoined. "I wanted to see you +upon an important business matter. I was sent here by the last message +my father gave any one--by the last words he spoke in his life. He told +me I should come to you." + +"Well, well, if you have any favor to ask of me, out with it, and let us +end it all at one sitting." + +"Sir," I said, "I would see you damned in hell before I would ask a +crust or a cup of water of you, though I were starving and burning. I +have heard enough." + +"Orderly!" he called out. "Show this man to the gate." + + + + +CHAPTER XXXVI + +THE GOAD + + +It was at last borne in upon me that I must leave without any word from +Ellen. She was hedged about by all the stern and cold machinery of an +Army Post, out of whose calculations I was left as much as though I +belonged to a different world. I cannot express what this meant for me. +For weeks now, for months, indeed, we two had been together each hour of +the day. I had come to expect her greeting in the morning, to turn to +her a thousand times in the day with some query or answer. I had made no +plan from which she was absent. I had come to accept myself, with her, +as fit part of an appointed and happy scheme. Now, in a twinkling, all +that had been subverted. I was robbed of her exquisite dependence upon +me, of those tender defects of nature that rendered her most dear. I was +to miss now her fineness, her weakness and trustfulness, which had been +a continual delight. I could no longer see her eyes nor touch her hands, +nor sit silent at her feet, dreaming of days to come. Her voice was gone +from my listening ears. Always I waited to hear her footstep, but it +came no longer, rustling in the grasses. It seemed to me that by some +hard decree I had been deprived of all my senses; for not one was left +which did not crave and cry aloud for her. + +It was thus that I, dulled, bereft; I, having lived, now dead; I, late +free, now bound again, turned away sullenly, and began my journey back +to the life I had known before I met her. + +As I passed East by the Denver stage, I met hurrying throngs always +coming westward, a wavelike migration of population now even denser than +it had been the preceding spring. It was as Colonel Meriwether said, the +wagons almost touched from the Platte to the Rockies. They came on, a +vast, continuous stream of hope, confidence and youth. I, who stemmed +that current, alone was unlike it in all ways. + +One thing only quickened my laggard heart, and that was the all +prevalent talk of war. The debates of Lincoln and Douglas, the +consequences of Lincoln's possible election, the growing dissensions in +the Army over Buchanan's practically overt acts of war--these made the +sole topics of conversation. I heard my own section, my own State, +criticised bitterly, and all Southerners called traitors to that flag I +had seen flying over the frontiers of the West. At times, I say, these +things caused my blood to stir once more, though perhaps it was not all +through patriotism. + +At last, after weeks of travel across a disturbed country, I finally +reached the angry hive of political dissension at Washington. Here I was +near home, but did not tarry, and passed thence by stage to Leesburg, in +Virginia; and so finally came back into our little valley and the quiet +town of Wallingford. I had gone away the victim of misfortune; I +returned home with a broken word and an unfinished promise and a shaken +heart. That was my return. + +I got me a horse at Wallingford barns, and rode out to Cowles' Farms. At +the gate I halted and looked in over the wide lawns. It seemed to me I +noted a change in them as in myself. The grass was unkempt, the flower +beds showed little attention. The very seats upon the distant gallery +seemed unfamiliar, as though arranged by some careless hand. I opened +the gate for myself, rode up to the old stoop and dismounted, for the +first time in my life there without a boy to take my horse. I walked +slowly up the steps to the great front door of the old house. No servant +came to meet me, grinning. I, grandson of the man who built that house, +my father's home and mine, lifted the brazen knocker of the door and +heard no footstep anticipate my knock. The place sounded empty. + +Finally there came a shuffling footfall and the door was opened, but +there stood before me no one that I recognized. It was a smallish, +oldish, grayish man who opened the door and smiled in query at me. + +"I am John Cowles, sir," I said, hesitating. "Yourself I do not seem to +know--" + +"My name is Halliday, Mr. Cowles," he replied. A flush of humiliation +came to my face. + +"I should know you. You were my father's creditor." + +"Yes, sir, my firm was the holder of certain obligations at the time of +your father's death. You have been gone very long without word to us. +Meantime, pending any action--" + +"You have moved in!" + +"I have ventured to take possession, Mr. Cowles. That was as your mother +wished. She waived all her rights and surrendered everything, said all +the debts must be paid--" + +"Of course--" + +"And all we could prevail upon her to do was to take up her quarters +there in one of the little houses." + +He pointed with this euphemism toward our old servants' quarters. So +there was my mother, a woman gently reared, tenderly cared for all her +life, living in a cabin where once slaves had lived. And I had come back +to her, to tell a story such as mine! + +"I hope," said he, hesitating, "that all these matters may presently be +adjusted. But first I ask you to influence your mother to come back into +the place and take up her residence." + +I smiled slowly. "You hardly understand her," I said. "I doubt if my +influence will suffice for that. But I shall meet you again." I was +turning away. + +"Your mother, I believe, is not here--she went over to Wallingford. I +think it is the day when she goes to the little church--" + +"Yes, I know. If you will excuse me I shall ride over to see if I can +find her." He bowed. Presently I was hurrying down the road again. It +seemed to me that I could never tolerate the sight of a stranger as +master at Cowles' Farms. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXVII + +THE FURROW + + +I Found her at the churchyard of the old meetinghouse. She was just +turning toward the gate in the low sandstone wall which surrounded the +burying ground and separated it from the space immediately about the +little stone church. It was a beautiful spot, here where the sun came +through the great oaks that had never known an ax, resting upon blue +grass that had never known a plow--a spot virgin as it was before old +Lord Fairfax ever claimed it hi his loose ownership. Everything about it +spoke of quiet and gentleness. + +I knew what it was that she looked upon as she turned back toward that +spot--it was one more low mound, simple, unpretentious, added to the +many which had been placed there this last century and a half; one more +little gray sandstone head-mark, cut simply with the name and dates of +him who rested there, last in a long roll of our others. The slight +figure in the dove-colored gown looked back lingeringly. It gave a new +ache to my heart to see her there. + +She did not notice me as I slipped down from my saddle and fastened my +horse at the long rack. But when I called she turned and came to me with +open arms. + +"Jack!" she cried. "My son, how I have missed thee! Now thee has come +back to thy mother." She put her forehead on my shoulder, but presently +took up a mother's scrutiny. Her hand stroked my hair, my unshaven +beard, took in each line of my face. + +"Thee has a button from thy coat," she said, reprovingly. "And what is +this scar on thy neck--thee did not tell me when thee wrote, Jack, what +ails thee?" She looked at me closely. "Thee is changed. Thee is +older--what has come to thee, my son?" + +"Come," I said to her at length, and led her toward the steps of the +little church. + +Then I broke out bitterly and railed against our ill-fortune, and cursed +at the man who would allow her to live in servants' quarters--indeed, +railed at all of life. + +"Thee must learn to subdue thyself, my son," she said. "It is only so +that strength comes to us--when we bend the back to the furrow God sets +for us. I am quite content in my little rooms. I have made them very +clean; and I have with me a few things of my own--a few, not many." + +"But your neighbors, mother, the Sheratons--" + +"Oh, certainly, they asked me to live with them. But I was not moved to +do that. You see, I know each rose bush and each apple tree on our old +place. I did not like to leave them. + +"Besides, as to the Sheratons, Jack," she began again--"I do not wish to +say one word to hurt thy feelings, but Miss Grace--" + +"What about Miss Grace?" + +"Mr. Orme, the gentleman who once stopped with us a few days--" + +"Oh, Orme! Is he here again? He was all through the West with me--I met +him everywhere there. Now I meet him here!" + +"He returned last summer, and for most of his time has been living at +the Sheratons'. He and Colonel Sheraton agree very well. And he and Miss +Grace--I do not like to say these things to thee, my son, but they also +seem to agree." + +"Go on," I demanded, bitterly. + +"Whether Miss Grace's fancy has changed, I do not know, but thy mother +ought to tell thee this, so that if she should jilt thee, why, then--" + +"Yes," said I, slowly, "it would be hard for me to speak the first word +as to a release." + +"But if she does not love thee, surely she will speak that word. So then +say good-by to her and set about thy business." + +I could not at that moment find it in my heart to speak further. We rose +and walked down to the street of the little town, and at the tavern barn +I secured a conveyance which took us both back to what had once been our +home. It was my mother's hands which, at a blackened old fireplace, in a +former slave's cabin, prepared what we ate that evening. Then, as the +sun sank in a warm glow beyond the old Blue Ridge, and our little valley +lay there warm and peaceful as of old, I drew her to the rude porch of +the whitewashed cabin, and we looked out, and talked of things which +must be mentioned. I told her--told her all my sad and bitter story, +from end to end. + +"This, then," I concluded, more than an hour after I had begun, "is what +I have brought back to you--failure, failure, nothing but failure." + +We sat in silence, looking out into the starry night, how long I do not +know. Then I heard her pray, openly, as was not the custom of her +people. "Lord, this is not my will. Is this Thy will?" + +After a time she put her hand upon mine. "My son, now let us reason what +is the law. From the law no man may escape. Let us see who is the +criminal. And if that be thee, then let my son have his punishment." + +I allowed the edge of her gentle words to bite into my soul, but I could +not speak. + +"But one thing I know," she concluded, "thee is John Cowles, the son of +my husband, John; and thee at the last will do what is right, what thy +heart says to thee is right." + +She kissed me on the cheek and so arose. All that night I felt her +prayers. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXVIII + +HEARTS HYPOTHECATED + + +The next morning at the proper hour I started for the Sheraton mansion. +This time it was not my old horse Satan that I rode. My mother told me +that Satan had been given over under the blanket chattel mortgage, and +sold at the town livery stable to some purchaser, whom she did not know, +who had taken the horse out of the country. I reflected bitterly upon +the changes in my fortunes since the last time I rode this way. + +At least I was not so much coward as to turn about. So presently I rode +up the little pitch from the trough road and pulled the gate latch with +my riding crop. And then, as though it were by appointment, precisely as +I saw her that morning last spring--a hundred years ago it seemed to +me--I saw Grace Sheraton coming down the walk toward me, tall, thin. +Alas! she did not fill my eye. She was elegantly clad, as usual. I had +liefer seen dress of skins. Her dainty boots clicked on the gravel. A +moccasin would not. + +I threw my rein over the hook at the iron arm of the stone gate pillar +and, hat in hand, I went to meet her. I was an older man now. I was done +with roystering and fighting, and the kissing of country girls all +across the land. I did not prison Grace Sheraton against the stone gate +pillar now, and kiss her against her will until she became willing. All +I did was to lift her hand and kiss her finger tips. + +She was changed. I felt that rather than saw it. If anything, she was +thinner, her face had a deeper olive tint, her eyes were darker. Her +expression was gay, feverish, yet not natural, as she approached. What +was it that sat upon her face--melancholy, or fear, or sorrow, or +resentment? I was never very bright of mind. I do not know. + +"I am glad to see you," she said to me at length, awkwardly. + +"And I to see you, of course." I misdoubt we both lied. + +"It is very sad, your home-coming thus," she added; at which clue I +caught gladly. + +"Yes, matters could hardly be worse for us." + +"Your mother would not come to us. We asked her. We feel deeply +mortified. But now--we hope you both will come." + +"We are beggars now, Miss Grace," I said. "I need time to look around, +to hit upon some plan of life. I must make another home for myself, and +for--" + +"For me?" She faced me squarely now, eye to eye. A smile was on her +lips, and it seemed to me a bitter one, but I could not guess what was +hidden in her mind. I saw her cheek flush slowly, deeper than was usual +with a Sheraton girl. + +"For my wife, as soon as that may be," I answered, as red as she. + +"I learn that you did not see Colonel Meriwether," she went on politely. + +"How did you know it?" + +"Through Captain Orme." + +"Yes," said I, quietly, "I have heard of Captain Orme--much of him--very +much." Still I could not read her face. + +"He was with us a long time this summer," she resumed, presently. "Some +two weeks ago he left, for Charleston, I think. He has much business +about the country." + +"Much business," I assented, "in many parts of the country. But most of +all with men of the Army. So Captain Orme--since we must call him +Captain and not minister--was so good as to inform you of my private +matters." + +"Yes." Again she looked at me squarely, with defiance. "I know all about +it. I know all about that girl." + +So there it was! But I kept myself under whip hand still. "I am very +glad. It will save me telling you of myself. It is not always that one +has the good fortune of such early messengers." + +"Go on," she said bitterly, "tell me about her." + +"I have no praises to sound for her. I do not wish to speak of this, if +you prefer to hear it from others than myself." + +She only smiled enigmatically, her mouth crooking in some confidence she +held with herself, but not with me. "It was natural," she said at last, +slowly. "Doubtless I would have done as she did. Doubtless any other man +would have done precisely as you did. That is the way with men. After +all, I suppose the world is the world, and that we are as we are. The +girl who is closest to a man has the best chance with him. Opportunity +is much, very much. Secrecy is everything." + +I found nothing which suited me to say; but presently she went on, again +leaning on the ivy-covered stone pillar of the gate, her hat held by its +strings at her side, her body not imprisoned by my arms. + +"Why should you not both have done so?" she resumed, bitterly. "We are +all human." + +"Why should we not have done what--what is it that you mean?" I demanded +of her. + +"Why, there was she, engaged to Mr. Belknap, as I am told; and there +were you, engaged to a certain young lady by the name of Grace Sheraton, +very far away. And you were conveniently lost--very conveniently--and +you found each other's society agreeable. You kept away for some weeks +or months, both of you forgetting. It was idyllic--ideal. You were not +precisely babes in the woods. You were a man and a woman. I presume you +enjoyed yourselves, after a very possible little fashion--I do not blame +you--I say I might have done the same. I should like to know it for a +time myself--freedom! I do not blame you. Only," she said slowly, "in +society we do not have freedom. Here it is different. I suppose +different laws apply, different customs!" + +"Miss Grace," said I, "I do not in the least understand you. You are not +the same girl I left." + +"No, I am not. But that is not my fault. Can not a woman be free as much +as a man? Have I not right as much as you? Have you not been free?" + +"One thing only I want to say," I rejoined, "and it is this, which I +ought not to say at all. If you mean anything regarding Ellen +Meriwether, I have to tell you, or any one, that she is clean--mind, +body, soul, heart--as clean as when I saw her first." + +"Do you know, I like you for saying that!" she retorted. "I would never +marry a man who knew nothing of other women--I don't want a milksop; and +I would not marry a man who would not lie for the sake of a sweetheart. +You lie beautifully! Do you know, Jack, I believe you are a bit of a +gentleman, after all! + +"But tell me, when is the wedding to be?" This last with obvious effort. + +"You have not advised me." + +"Oh, I beg your pardon. I meant your marriage with Ellen Meriwether. I +supposed of course you had quite forgotten me!" + +"Ellen Meriwether is already married," I said to her, with a calmness +which surprised myself. But what surprised me most was the change which +came upon her face at the words--the flush--the gleam of triumph, of +satisfaction. I guessed this much and no more--that she had had certain +plans, and that now she had other plans, changed with lightning +swiftness, and by reason of my words. + +"Lieutenant Lawrence Belknap and Miss Ellen Meriwether were married, I +presume, some time after I started for the East," I went on. "But they +were never engaged before our return to the settlements. It was all very +suddenly arranged." + +"How like a story-book! So he forgot her little incidents with you--all +summer--side by side--day and night! How romantic! I don't know that I +could have done so much, had I been a man, and myself not guilty of the +same incidents. At least, he kept his promise." + +"There had never been any promise at all between them." + +"Then Captain Orme was quite mistaken?" + +"Captain Orme does not trouble himself always to be accurate." + +"At least, then, you are unmarried, Jack?" + +"Yes, and likely to be for some years." + +Now her face changed once more. Whether by plan of her own or not, I +cannot say, but it softened to a more gentle--shall I say a more +beseeching look? Was it that I again was at her side, that old +associations awakened? Or was it because she was keen, shrewd and in +control of herself, able to make plans to her own advantage? I cannot +tell as to that. But I saw her face soften, and her voice was gentle +when she spoke. + +"What do you mean, Jack?" she asked. + +If there was not love and caress in her tones, then I could not detect +the counterfeit. I reiterate, if I should live a thousand years, I +should know nothing of women, nothing. We men are but toys with them. As +in life and in sex man is in nature's plan no master, no chooser, but +merely an incident; so, indeed, I believe that he is thus always with a +woman--only an incident. With women we are toys. They play with us. We +never read them. They are the mystery of the world. When they would +deceive us it is beyond all our art to read them. Never shall man, even +the wisest, fathom the shallowest depths of a woman's heart. Their +superiors? God! we are their slaves, and the stronger we are as men, the +more are we enslaved. + +Had it been left to my judgment to pronounce, I should have called her +emotion now a genuine one. Mocking, cynical, contemptuous she might have +been, and it would have suited my own mood. But what was it now on the +face of Grace Sheraton, girl of a proud family, woman I once had kissed +here at this very place until she blushed--kissed until she +warmed--until she-- + +But now I know she changed once again, and I know that this time I read +her look aright. It was pathos on her face, and terror. Her eye was that +of the stricken antelope in dread of the pursuer. + +"Jack," she whispered, "don't leave me! Jack, _I shall need you!_" + +Before I could resolve any questions in my mind, I heard behind us the +sound of approaching hoofs, and there rode up to the gate her brother, +Harry Sheraton, who dismounted and hitched his horse near mine, saluting +me as he pushed open the great gate. It was the first time I had seen +him since my return. + +"Am I intruding?" he asked. "I'm awfully glad to see you, Cowles--I +heard below you were home. You've had a long journey." + +"Yes," I answered, "longer than I had planned, by many weeks. And now I +am glad to be back once more. No--" in answer to his turning toward his +horse as though he would leave us. "You are looking well, Harry. Indeed, +everything in old Virginia is good to see again." + +"Wish I could be as polite with you. Have you been sick? And, I say, you +did meet the savages, didn't you?" + +I knew he meant the scar on the side of my neck, which still was rather +evident, but I did not care to repeat the old story again. "Yes," I +answered a bit shortly, "rather a near thing of it. I presume Captain +Orme told you?" I turned to Miss Grace, who then admitted that she had +heard something of the surgery which had thus left its mark. Harry +seemed puzzled, so I saw it was news to him. Miss Grace relieved the +situation somewhat by turning toward the house. + +"I am sure you will want to talk with Jack," she said to him. "And +listen, Harry, you must have him and Mrs. Cowles over here this very +evening--we cannot think of her living alone at the old place. I shall +send Cato down with, the carriage directly, and you may drive over after +Mrs. Cowles." She held out her hand to me. "At dinner to-night, then?" + +I bowed, saying that we would be very happy, by which I meant that we +would be very miserable. + +This, then, was all that had been determined by my visit. I was still an +engaged man. Evidently nothing otherwise had been discussed in the +Sheraton family councils, if any such had been held. If never suitor in +Old Virginia rode up in sorrier case than mine that morning, as I came +to call upon my fiancée, certainly did never one depart in more +uncertain frame of mind than mine at this very moment. I presume that +young Sheraton felt something of this, for he began awkwardly to speak +of matters related thereto. + +"It's awfully hard," he began, "to see strangers there in your own +house--I know it must be hard. But I say, your father must have plunged +heavily on those lands over West in the mountains. I've heard they're +very rich in coal, and that all that was necessary was simply cash or +credit enough to tide the deal over till next year's crops." + +"My father always said there was a great fortune in the lands," I +replied. "Yes, I think another year would have seen him through; but +that year was not to come for him." + +"But couldn't funds be raised somehow, even yet?" + +I shook my head. "It is going to be hard in these times to raise funds +in any way. Values are bad now, and if the Republican party elects +Lincoln next month, there will be no such things as values left in +Virginia. I don't see how anything can save our property." + +"Well, I'm not so sure," he went on, embarrassed. "My father and I have +been talking over these matters, and we concluded to ask you if we might +not take a hand in this. At least, we have agreed all along that--in +this case you know--you and my sister--we have planned definitely that +you should live in your old place. We're going to take that over. The +redemption time has plenty of margin, and we can't allow those people to +come in here and steal one of the old Virginia places in that way. We +are going to arrange to hold that for you and my sister, and we thought +that perhaps in time something could be worked out of the rest of the +property in the same way. That is, unless Colonel Meriwether, your +father's partner, shall offer some better solution. I suppose you talked +it over with him?" + +"I did not talk with him about it at all," said I, dully. For many +reasons I did not care to repeat all of my story to him. I had told it +often enough already. "None the less, it seems very generous of you and +your father to take this interest in me. It would be very churlish of me +if I did not appreciate it. But I trust nothing has been done as yet--" + +"You trust not? Why, Cowles, you speak as though you did not want us to +do it." + +"I do not," said I. + +"Oh, then--" + +"You know our family well enough." + +"That's true. But you won't be offended if I suggest to you that there +are two sides to this, and two prides. All the country knows of your +engagement, and now that you have returned, it will be expected that my +sister will set the day before long. Of course, we shouldn't want my +sister to begin too far down--oh, damn it, Cowles, you know what I +mean." + +"I presume so," said I to him, slowly. "But suppose that your sister +should offer to her friends the explanation that the change in my +fortunes no longer leaves desirable this alliance with my family?" + +"Do you suggest that?" + +"I have not done so." + +"Has she suggested it?" + +"We have not talked of it, yet it might be hard for your sister to share +a lot so humble and so uncertain." + +"That I presume will be for her to decide," he said slowly. "I admit it +is a hard question all around. But, of course, in a matter of this kind, +the man has to carry the heavy end of the log if there is one. If that +falls to you, we know you will not complain." + +"No," said I, "I hope not." + +His forehead still remained furrowed with the old Sheraton wrinkles. He +seemed uneasy. "By Jove," he broke out at length, flushing as he turned +to me, "it is hard for a fellow to tell sometimes what's right, isn't +it? Jack, you remember Jennie Williams, across under Catoctin?" + +I nodded. "I thought you two were going to make a match of it sometime," +I said. + +"Prettiest girl in the valley," he assented; "but her family is hardly +what we would call the best, you know." I looked at him very hard. + +"Then why did you go there so often all last year?" I asked him. "Might +she not think--" + +He flushed still more, his mouth twitching now. "Jack," he said, "it's +all through. I want to ask you. I ought to marry Jennie Williams, but--" + +Now I looked at him full and hard, and guessed. Perhaps my face was +grave. I was beginning to wonder whether there was one clean thing in +all the world. + +"Oh, she can marry," went on Harry. "No difficulty about that. She has +another beau who loves her to distraction, and who doesn't in the least +suspect--a decent sort of a fellow, a young farmer of her own class." + +"And, in your belief, that wedding should go on?" + +He shifted uneasily. + +"When is this wedding to be?" I asked. + +"Oh, naturally, very soon," he answered. "I am doing as handsome a thing +as I know how by her. Sometimes it's mighty hard to do the handsome +thing--even mighty hard to know what is the handsome thing itself." + +"Yes," said I. But who was I that I should judge him? + +"If you were just where I am," asked Harry Sheraton, slowly, "what would +you do? I'd like to do what is right, you know." + +"Oh no, you don't, Harry," I broke out. "You want to do what is easiest. +If you wanted to do what is right, you'd never ask me nor any one else. +Don't ask me, because I don't know. Suppose you were in the case of that +other young man who loves her? Suppose he did not know--or suppose he +_did_ know. What would be right for him?" + +"Heavy end of the log for him," admitted he, grimly. "That's true, sure +as you're born." + +"When one does not love a girl, and sees no happiness in the thought of +living with her all his life, what squares that, Harry, in your +opinion?" + +"I've just asked you," he rejoined. "Why do you ask me? You say one +ought to know what is right in his own case without any such asking, and +I say that isn't always true. Oh, damn it all, anyway. Why are we made +the way we are?" + +"If only the girl in each case would be content by having the handsome +thing done by her!" said I, bitterly. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXIX + +THE UNCOVERING OF GORDON ORME + + +It is not necessary for me to state that dinner in the Sheraton hall, +with its dull mahogany and its shining silver and glass, was barely +better than a nightmare to me, who should have been most happy. At least +there remained the topic of politics and war; and never was I more glad +to plunge into such matters than upon that evening. In some way the +dinner hour passed. Miss Grace pleaded a headache and left us; my mother +asked leave; and presently our hostess and host departed. Harry and I +remained to stare at each other moodily. I admit I was glad when finally +he announced his intention of retiring. + +A servant showed me my own room, and some time before midnight I went +up, hoping that I might sleep. My long life in the open air had made all +rooms and roofs seem confining and distasteful to me, and I slept badly +in the best of beds. Now my restlessness so grew upon me that, some time +past midnight, not having made any attempt to prepare for sleep, I +arose, went quietly down the stair and out at the front door, to see if +I could find more peace in the open air. I sat down on the grass with my +back against one of the big oaks, and so continued brooding moodily over +my affairs, confused as they had now become. + +By this time every one of the household had retired. I was surprised, +therefore, when I saw a faint streak of light from one of the windows +flash out across the lawn. Not wishing to intrude, I rose quietly and +changed my position, passing around the tree. Almost at that instant I +saw the figure of a man appear from the shrubbery and walk directly +toward the house, apparently headed for the window from which emerged +the light. + +I watched him advance, and when I saw him reach the heavily barred +trellis which ran up to the second gallery, I felt confirmed in my +suspicion that he was a burglar. Approaching carefully in the shadow, I +made a rapid run at him, and as his head was turned at the time, managed +to catch him about the neck by an arm. His face, thus thrown back, was +illuminated by the flare of light. I saw him plainly. It was Gordon +Orme! + +The light disappeared. There was no cry from above. The great house, +lying dark and silent, heard no alarm. I did not stop to reason about +this, but tightened my grip upon him in so fell a fashion that all his +arts in wrestling could avail him nothing. I had caught him from behind, +and now I held him with a hand on each of his arms above the elbow. No +man could escape me when I had that hold. + +He did not speak, but struggled silently with all his power. At length +he relaxed a trifle. I stood close to him, slipped my left arm under his +left along his back, and caught his right arm in my left hand. Then I +took from his pocket a pistol, which I put into my own. I felt in his +clothing, and finally discovered a knife, hidden in a scabbard at the +back of his neck. I drew it out--a long-bladed, ivory thing I found it +later, with gold let into the hilt and woven into the steel. + +He eased himself in my grip as much as he could, waiting; as I knew, +for his chance to twist and grapple with me. I could feel him breathing +deeply and easily, resting, waiting for his time, using his brains to +aid his body with perfect deliberation. + +"It's no use, Orme," I said to him, finally. "I can wring your neck, or +break your back, or twist your arms off, and by God! I've a notion to do +them all. If you make any attempt to get away I'm going to kill you. Now +come along." + +I shoved him ahead of me, his arms pinioned, until we found a seat far +away in a dark portion of the great front yard. Here I pushed him down +and took the other end of the seat, covering him with his own pistol. + +"Now," I demanded, "tell me what you are doing here." + +"You have your privilege at guessing," he sneered, in his easy, mocking +way. "Have you never taken a little adventure of this sort yourself?" + +"Ah, some servant girl--at your host's house. Excellent adventure. But +this is your last one," I said to him. + +"Is it so," he sneered. "Then let me make my prayers!" He mocked at me, +and had no fear of me whatever. + +"In Virginia we keep the shotgun for men who prowl around houses at +night. What are you doing here?" + +"You have no right to ask. It is not your house." + +"There was a light," said I. "For that reason I have a right to ask. I +am a guest, and a guest has duties as well as a host." + +A certain change in mood seized him. "If I give you parole," he asked, +"will you believe me, and let us talk freely?" + +"Yes," said I at length, slowly. "You are a liar; but I do not think you +will break parole." + +"You gauge me with perfect accuracy," he answered. "That is why I wish +to talk." + +I threw the pistol on the seat between us. "What is it you want to +know," I asked. "And again I ask you, why are you here, when you are +supposed to be in South Carolina?" + +"I have business here. You cost me my chance out there in the West," he +answered, slowly. "In turn I cost you your chance there. I shall cost +you other things here. I said you should pay my debt." He motioned +toward my neck with his slim finger. + +"Yes, you saved my life," I said, "and I have hated you for that ever +since." + +"Will you make me one promise?" he asked. + +"Perhaps, but not in advance." + +"And will you keep it?" + +"If I make it." + +"Will you promise me to do one thing you have already promised to do?" + +"Orme, I am in no mood to sit here and gossip like an old woman." + +"Oh, don't cut up ugly. You're done out of it all around, in any case. +Belknap, it seems, was to beat both you and me. Then why should not you +and I try to forget? But now as to this little promise. I was only going +to ask you to do as much as Belknap, or less." + +"Very well, then." + +"I want you to promise to marry Grace Sheraton." + +I laughed in his face. "I thought you knew me better than that, Orme. +I'll attend to my own matters for myself. I shall not even ask you why +you want so puerile a promise. I am much of a mind to shoot you. Tell +me, who are you, and what are you, and what are you doing in this +country?" + +"Do you really want to know?" he smiled. + +"Assuredly I do. I demand it." + +"I believe I will tell you, then," he said quietly. He mused for a time +before he raised his head and went on. + +"I am Charles Gordon Orme, Marquis of Bute and Rayne. Once I lived in +England. For good reasons I have since lived elsewhere. I am what is +known as a black sheep--a very, very black one." + +"Yes, you are a retrograde, a renegade, a blackguard and a murderer," I +said to him, calmly. + +"All of those things, and much more," he admitted, cheerfully and +calmly. "I am two persons, or more than two. I can't in the least make +all this plain to you in your grade of intelligence. Perhaps you have +heard of exchangeable personalities?" + +"I have heard of double personalities, and double lives," I said, "but I +have never admired them." + +"We will waive your admiration. Let me say that I can exchange my +personality. The Jews used to say that men of certain mentality were +possessed of a devil. I only say that I was a student in India. One +phrase is good as another. The Swami Hamadata was my teacher." + +"It would have been far better for you had you never known him, and +better for many others," was my answer to his astonishing discourse. + +"Perhaps; but I am only explaining as you have requested. I am a Raja +Yogi. I have taken the eight mystic steps. For years, even here in this +country, I have kept up the sacred exercises of breath, of posture, of +thought." + +"All that means nothing to me," I admitted simply. + +"No, it means nothing for me to tell you that I have learned Yama, +Niyama, Asana, Pranayama, Pratyahara, Dharana, Dyhana and Samadhi! Yes, +I was something of an adept once. I learned calm, meditation, +contemplation, introspection, super-conscious reasoning--how to cast my +own mind to a distance, how to bring other minds close up to me. +But,"--he smiled with all his old mockery--"mostly I failed on +Pratyahara, which says the senses must be quelled, subdued and set +aside! All religions are alike to me, but they must not intrude on my +own religion. I'd liefer die than not enjoy. My religion, I say, is to +play the great games--to adventure, and above all, to enjoy! That is why +I am in this country, also why I am in these grounds to-night." + +"You are playing some deeper game than I know?" + +"I always am! How could you be expected to understand what it took me +years to learn? But I suppose in your case you need a few practical and +concrete proofs. Let me show you a few things. Here, put your hand on my +heart." + +I obeyed. "You feel it beat?" he said. "Now it stops beating, does it +not?" And as I live, it _had slopped_! + +"Feel on the opposite side," he commanded. I did so, and there was his +heart, clear across his body, and beating as before! "Now I shall stop +it again," he remarked, calmly. And I swear it did stop, and resumed +when he liked! + +"Put your hand upon my abdomen," he said. I did so. All at once his body +seemed thin and empty, as a spent cocoon. + +"I draw all the organs into the thorax," he explained. "When one has +studied under the Swami, as I have, he gains control over all his +different muscles, voluntary and involuntary. He can, to a great extent, +cut off or increase the nerve force in any muscle. Simple tricks in +magic become easy to him. He gains, as you may suppose, a certain +influence over men, and more especially over women, if that be a part of +his religion. It was not with the Swami. It is with me!" + +"You are a strange man, Orme," I said, drawing a long breath. "The most +dangerous man, the most singular, the most immoral I ever knew." + +"No," he said, reaching for his cigar case, "I was only born without +what you call morals. They are not necessary in abstruse thought. Yet in +some ways I retain the old influences of my own country. For instance, I +lie as readily as I speak the truth, because it is more convenient; but +though I am a liar, I do not break my word of honor. I am a renegade, +but I am still an English officer! You have caught that distinction." + +"Yes, I would trust you," I said, "if you gave me your word of honor." + +He turned full upon me. "By Jove, old chap," he said, with a queer note +in his voice, "you touch me awfully close. You're like men of my own +family--you stir something in me that I used to know. The word of a +fighting man--that's the same for yours and mine; and that's why I've +always admired you. That's the sort of man that wins with the best sort +of women." + +"You were not worth the best sort of woman," I said to him. "You had no +chance with Ellen Meriwether." + +"No, but at least every fellow is worth his own fight with himself. I +wanted to be a gentleman once more. Oh, a man may mate with a woman of +any color--he does, all over the world. He may find a mistress in any +nationality of his own color, or a wife in any class similar to his +own--he does, all over the world. But a sweetheart, and a wife, and a +woman--when a fellow even like myself finds himself honestly gone like +that--when he begins to fight inside himself, old India against old +England, renegade against gentleman--say, that's awfully bitter--when he +sees the other fellow win. You won--" + +"No," said I, "I did not win. You know that perfectly well. There is no +way in the world that I can win. All I can do is to keep parole--well, +with myself, I suppose." + +"You touch me awfully close," he mused again. "You play big and fair. +You're a fighting man and a gentleman and--excuse me, but it's true--an +awful ass all in one. You're such an ass I almost hesitate to play the +game with you." + +"Thank you," said I. "But now take a very stupid fellow's advice. Leave +this country, and don't be seen about here again, for if so, you will be +killed." + +"Precisely," he admitted. "In fact, I was just intending to arrange a +permanent departure. That was why I was asking you to promise me to--in +short, to keep your own promise. There's going to be war next spring. +The dreams of this strange new man Lincoln, out in the West, are going +to come true--there will be catastrophies here. That is why I am here. +War, one of the great games, is something that one must sometimes cross +the globe to play. I will be here to have a hand in this one." + +"You have had much of a hand in it already," I hazarded. He smiled +frankly. + +"Yes," he said, "one must live. I admit I have been what you call a +secret agent. There is much money behind me, big politics, big +commercial interests. I love the big games, and my game and my task--my +duty to my masters, has been to split this country along a clean line +from east to west, from ocean to ocean--to make two countries of it! You +will see that happen, my friend." + +"No one will ever see it happen," I said to him, soberly. + +"Under which flag, then, for you?" he asked quickly. + +"The flag you saw on the frontier, Orme," I answered him. "That is the +flag of America, and will be. The frontier is free. It will make America +free forever." + +"Oh, well," he said, "the argument will be obvious enough by next +spring--in April, I should guess. And whatever you or I may think, the +game will be big, very big--the biggest until you have your real war +between black and white, and your yet bigger one between yellow and +white. I imagine old England will be in that with you, or with one of +you, if you make two countries here. But I may be a wandering Jew on +some other planet before that time." + +He sat for a time, his chin dropped on his breast. Finally he reached me +his hand. + +"Let me go," he said. "I promise you to leave." + +"To leave the State?" + +"No, I will not promise that." + +"To leave the County?" + +"Yes, unless war should bring me here in the course of my duty. But I +will promise to leave this town, this residence--this girl--in short, I +must do that. And you are such an ass that I was going to ask you to +promise to keep your promise--up there." He motioned toward the window +where the light lately had been. + +"You do not ask that now?" I queried. + +"You are a fighting man," he said, suddenly. "Let all these questions +answer themselves when their time comes. After all, I suppose a woman is +a woman in the greatest of the Barnes, and one takes one's chances. +Suppose we leave the debt unsettled until we meet some time? You know, +you may be claiming debt of me." + +"Will you be ready?" I asked him. + +"Always. You know that. Now, may I go? Is my parole ended?" + +"It ends at the gate," I said to him, and handed him his pistol. The +knife I retained, forgetfully; but when I turned to offer it to him he +was gone. + + + + +CHAPTER XL + +A CONFUSION IN COVENANTS + + +During the next morning Harry Sheraton galloped down to the village +after the morning's mail. On his return he handed me two letters. One +was from Captain Matthew Stevenson, dated at Fort Henry, and informed me +that he had been transferred to the East from Jefferson Barracks, in +company with other officers. He hinted at many changes in the +disposition of the Army of late. His present purpose in writing, as he +explained, was to promise us that, in case he came our way, he would +certainly look us up. + +This letter I put aside quickly, for the other seemed to me to have a +more immediate importance. I glanced it over, and presently found +occasion to request a word or so with Colonel Sheraton. We withdrew to +his library, and then I handed him the letter. + +"This," I explained, "is from Jennings & Jennings, my father's agents at +Huntington, on whose advice he went into his coal speculations." + +"I see. Their advice seems to have been rather disastrous." + +"At first it seemed so," I answered, "but now they advise me by no means +to allow foreclosure to be completed if it can be avoided. The lands are +worth many times the price paid for them." + +"I see--and they have some sort of an offer as well--eh?" + +"A half loaf is better than no bread," I assented. "I think I ought to +go out there and examine all this in detail." + +"But one thing I don't understand about this," began Colonel Sheraton, +"your father's partner, Colonel Meriwether, was on joint paper with him. +What did he say to you when you saw him?" + +"Nothing," I replied. "We did not discuss the matter." + +"What? That was the sole reason why you went out to see him!" + +"Other matters came up," said I. "This was not brought up at all between +us." + +Colonel Sheraton looked at me keenly. "I must admit, Mr. Cowles," said +he, slowly weighing his words, that of late certain things have seemed +more than a little strange to me. If you will allow me so to express +myself, there is in my own house, since you came, a sort of atmosphere +of indefiniteness. Now, why was it you did not take up these matters +with Colonel Meriwether? Certainly they were important to you; and under +the circumstances they have a certain interest to myself. What are you +trying to cover up?" + +"Nothing from you of a business nature, sir; and nothing from Miss Grace +of any nature which I think she ought to know." + +He turned on me swiftly. "Young man, what do you propose to do in regard +to my daughter? I confess I have contemplated certain plans in your +benefit. I feel it is time to mention these matters with you." + +[Illustration: ON HIS WAY BACK HOME JOHN FINDS HIS MOTHER AND GRACE, WHO +HAVE COME TO MEET HIM] + +[Illustration: JOHN'S MOTHER HEARS THAT HIS MISSION HAS BEEN A FAILURE +"I'VE FAILED. MOTHER!"] + +"It is time," I answered. "But if you please, it seems to me Miss Grace +and I should first take them up together. Has she spoken to you in any +way that might lead you to think she would prefer our engagement to be +broken?" + +"No, sir. There has only been a vagueness and indefiniteness which I did +not like." + +"Had my affairs not mended, Colonel Sheraton, I could not have blamed +any of you for breaking the engagement. If conditions prove to be +practically the same now as then, it is she who must decide her course +and mine." + +"That is perfectly honorable. I have no criticism to offer. I have only +her happiness at heart." + +"Then, if you please, sir, since I am rather awkwardly situated here, I +should like very much to see Miss Grace this morning." + +He bowed in his lofty way and left me. Within a half hour a servant +brought me word that Miss Grace would see me in the drawing-room. + +She was seated in a wide, low chair near the sunny window, half hid by +the leafy plants that grew in the boxes there. She was clad in loose +morning wear over ample crinoline, her dark hair drawn in broad bands +over the temples, half confined by a broad gold comb, save two long +curls which hung down her neck at either side. It seemed to me she was +very thin--thinner and darker than ever. Under her wide eyes were heavy +circles. She held out her hand to me, and it lay cold and lifeless in my +own. I made some pleasant talk of small matters as I might, and soon as +I could arrived at the business of the letter I had received. + +"Perhaps I have been a little hurried, after all, in classing myself as +an absolute pauper," I explained as she read. "You see, I must go out +there and look into these things." + +"Going away again?" She looked up at me, startled. + +"For a couple of weeks. And when I come back, Miss Grace--" + +So now I was up to the verge of that same old, definite question. + +She sat up in the chair as though pulling herself together in some +sudden resolve, and looked me straight in the face. + +"Jack," she said, "why should we wait?" + +"To be sure," said I. "Only I do not want you to marry a pauper if any +act of my own can make him better than a pauper in the meantime." + +"You temporize," she said, bitterly. "You are not glad. Yet you came to +me only last spring, and you--" + +"I come to you now, Miss Grace," I said. + +"Ah, what a difference between then and now!" she sighed. + +For a time we could find nothing fit to say. At last I was forced to +bring up one thing I did not like to mention. + +"Miss Grace," said I, seating myself beside her, "last night, or rather +this morning, after midnight, I found a man prowling around in the +yard." + +She sprang up as though shocked, her face gray, her eyes full of terror. + +"You have told!" she exclaimed, "My father knows that Captain Orme--" + +It was my own turn to feel surprise, which perhaps I showed. + +"I have told no one. It seemed to me that first I ought to come to you +and ask you about this. Why was Orme there?" + +She stared at me. "He told me he would come back some time," she +admitted at length. All the while she was fighting with herself, +striving, exactly as Orme had done, to husband her powers for an +impending struggle. "You see," she added, "he has secret business all +over the country--I will own I believe him to be in the secret service +of the inner circle of a number of Southern congressmen and business +men. He is in with the Southern circle--of New Orleans, of +Charleston--Washington. For this reason he could not always choose his +hours of going and coming." + +"Does your father know of his peculiar hours?" + +"I presume so, of course." + +"I saw a light at a window," I began, "whose window I do not know, +doubtless some servant's. It could not have been a signal?" + +"A _signal_? What do you mean? Do you suspect me of putting out a beacon +light for a cheap night adventure with some man? Do you expect me to +tolerate that sort of thing from you?" + +"I ask you to tolerate nothing," I said. "I am not in the habit of +suspecting ladies. But I ask you if you can explain the light on that +side of the house." + +"Jack," she said, flinging out a hand, "forgive me. I admit that Captain +Orme and I carried on a bit of a flirtation, after he came back--after +he had told me about you. But why should that--why, he did not know you +were here." + +"No," said I, dryly, "I don't think he did. I am glad to know that you +found something to amuse you in my absence." + +"Let us not speak of amusements in the absence of each other," she said +bitterly. "Think of your own. But when you came back, it was all as it +was last spring. I could love no other man but you, Jack, and you know +it. After all, if we are quits, let us stay quits, and forgive, and +forget--let us forget, Jack." + +I sat looking at her as she turned to me, pleading, imploring in her +face, her gesture. + +"Jack," she went on, "a woman needs some one to take care of her, to +love her. I want you to take care of me--you wouldn't throw me over for +just a little thing--when all the time you yourself--" + +"The light shone for miles across the valley," said I. + +"Precisely, and that was how he happened to come up, I do not doubt. He +thought we were still up about the place. My father has always told him +to make this his home, and not to go to the tavern. They are friends +politically, in many ways, as you know." + +"The light then was that of some servant?" + +"Certainly it was. I know nothing of it. It was an accident, and yet you +blame me as though--why, it was all accident that you met Captain Orme. +Tell me, Jack, did you quarrel? What did he tell you?" + +"Many things. He is no fit man for you to know, nor for any woman." + +"Do I not know that? I will never see him again." + +"No, he will never come back here again, that is fairly sure. He has +promised that; and he asked me to promise one thing, by the way." + +"What was that?" + +"To keep my promise with you. He asked me to marry you! Why?" + +Infinite wit of woman! What chance have we men against such weapons? It +was coquetry she forced to her face, and nothing else, when she +answered: "So, then, he was hard hit, after all! I did not know that. +How tender of him, to wish me married to another than himself! The +conceit of you men is something wondrous." + +"Mr. Orme was so kind as to inform me that I was a gentleman, and +likewise a very great ass." + +"Did you promise him to keep your promise, Jack?" She put both her hands +on mine as it lay on the chair arm. Her eyes looked into mine straight +and full. It would have taken more imagination than mine to suspect the +slightest flickering in their lids. "Jack," she murmured over and over +again. "I love you! I have never loved any other man." + +"So now," I resumed, "I have come to you to tell you of all these +things, and to decide definitely and finally in regard to our next +plans." + +"But you believe me, Jack? You do promise to keep your promise? You do +love me?" + +"I doubt no woman whom I wed," I answered. "I shall be gone for two or +three weeks. As matters are at this moment it would be folly for either +of us to do more than let everything stand precisely as it is until we +have had time to think. I shall come back, Miss Grace, and I shall ask +your answer." + +"Jack, I'm sure of that," she murmured. "It is a grand thing for a woman +to have the promise of a man who knows what a promise is." + +I winced at this, as I had winced a thousand times at similar thrusts +unconsciously delivered by so many. "No," said I, "I think Orme is +right. I am only a very stupid ass." + +She reached out her hand. I felt her fingers close cold and hard on +mine, as though loth to let me go. I kissed her fingers and withdrew, +myself at least very glad to be away. + +I retired presently to my room to arrange my portmanteaus for an early +journey. And there, filling up one-half of the greater valise, was a +roll of hide, ragged about its edge. I drew it out, and spread it flat +upon the bed before me, whitened and roughened with bone, reddened with +blood, written on with rude stylus, bearing certain words which all the +time, day and night, rang, yes, and sang, in my brain. + +"_I, John Cowles--I, Ellen Meriwether--take thee, for better, for +worse--till death--_" I saw her name, _E-l-l-e-n._ + + + + +CHAPTER XLI + +ELLEN OR GRACE + + +Presently once more I departed. My mother also ended her visit at +Dixiana, preferring to return to the quiet of her two little whitewashed +rooms, and the old fireplace, and the sooty pot-hooks which our people's +slaves had used for two generations in the past. + +As to what I learned at Huntington, which place I reached after some +days of travel, I need say no more than that I began to see fully +verified my father's daring and his foresight. The matter of the coal +land speculation was proved perfectly feasible. Indeed, my conference +with our agents made it clear that little remained excepting the +questions of a partition of interests, or of joint action between +Colonel Meriwether and my father's estate. The right of redemption still +remained, and there offered a definite alternative of selling a part of +the lands and retaining the remainder clear of incumbrance. We wrote +Colonel Meriwether all these facts from Huntington, requesting his +immediate attention. After this, I set out for home, not ill-pleased +with the outlook of my material affairs. + +All these details of surveying and locating lands, of measuring shafts +and drifts, and estimating cubic yards in coal, and determining the +status of tenures and fees, had occupied me longer than I had +anticipated. I had been gone two days beyond a month, when finally, +somewhat wearied with stage travel, I pulled up at Wallingford. + +As I approached the little tavern I heard much laughing, talking, +footfalls, hurrying, as men came or went on one errand or another. A +large party had evidently arrived on a conveyance earlier than my own. I +leaned against the front rail of the tavern gallery and waited for some +stable-boy to come. The postmaster carried away his mail sack, the +loungers at the stoop gradually disappeared, and so presently I began to +look about me. I found my eyes resting upon a long figure at the farther +end of the gallery, sitting in the shade of the steep hill which came +down, almost sharp as a house roof, back of the tavern, and so cut off +the evening sun. It was apparently a woman, tall and thin, clad in a +loose, stayless gown, her face hid in an extraordinarily long, green +sun-bonnet. Her arms were folded, and she was motionless. But now and +then there came a puff of smoke from within the caverns of the +sun-bonnet, accompanied with the fragrant odor of natural leaf, whose +presence brooked no debate by the human nose. I looked at this stranger +again and yet again, then slowly walked up and held out my hand. No one +in all the world who could counterfeit Mandy McGovern, even so far away, +and under conditions seemingly impossible for her presence! + +Mandy's pipe well-nigh fell from her lips. "Well, good God A'mighty! If +it ain't you, son!" she exclaimed. + +"Yes," I smiled. + +"They told me you-all lived somewheres around here." + +"Aunt Mandy," I interrupted. "Tell me, what in the world are you doing +here?" + +"Why, me and the folks just come down to look around. Her and her Pa was +comin', and I come, too." + +"_Who_ came with you, Aunt Mandy?" + +"Still askin' fool questions like you didn't know! Why, you know who it +was. The Colonel's ordered to jine his rigiment at Fort Henry. Gal come +along o' him, o' course. I come along with the gal, o' course. My boy +and my husband come along with me, o' course." + +"Your son, Andrew Jackson?" + +"Uh-huh. He's somewheres 'round, I reckon. I see him lickin' a nigger a +few minutes ago. Say, that boy's come out to be the fightenest feller I +ever did see. Him allowin' he got that there Injun, day we had the fight +down on the Platte, it just made a new man out'n him. 'Fore long he +whupped a teamster that got sassy with him. Then he taken a rock and +lammed the cook 'cause he looked like he was laffin' at him. Not long +atter that, he killed a Injun he 'lowed was crawlin' 'round our +place--done kilt him and taken his skulp 'fore I had time to explain to +him that like enough that Injun was plum peaceful, and only comin' in to +get a loaf o' bread." + +"Bread? Aunt Mandy, where was all this?" + +"Where d'ye suppose it was unlessen at our _ho_tel? My man and me seen +there was a good openin' there on the trail this side o' the south fork, +and we set up a hotel in a dugout. Them _emigrants_ would give you +anything you aste for a piece o' pie, or a real baked loaf o' bread. We +may go back there some time. We could make our pile in a couple o' +years. I got over three hundred dollars right here in my pocket." + +"But I don't quite understand about the man--your husband--" + +"Yep, my lastest one. Didn't you know I married ole man Auberry? He's +'round here somewheres, lookin' fer a drink o' licker, I reckon. +Colonel Meriwether 'lowed there'd be some fightin' 'round these parts +afore long. My man and my son 'lowed the West was gettin' right quiet +for them, and they'd just take a chanct down here, to see a little life +in other parts." + +"I hadn't heard of this last marriage of yours, Aunt Mandy," I ventured. + +"Oh, yes, me and him hooked up right soon atter you and the gal got +lost. Don't see how you missed our place when you come East. We done +took at least six bits off'n every other man, woman or child that come +through there, east or west, all summer long. You see I was tired of +that lazy husband o' mine back home, and Auberry he couldn't see nothin' +to that woman o' his'n atter he found out how I could bake pie and +bread. So we both seem' the chanct there was there on the trail, we done +set up in business. Say, I didn't know there was so many people in the +whole world as they was of them emi_grants_. Preacher come along in a +wagon one day--broke, like most preachers is. We kep' him overnight, +free, and he merried us next mornin' for nothin'. Turn about's fair +play, I reckon." + +I scarcely heard her querulous confidences. "Where is Colonel +Meriwether?" I asked her at last. + +"Inside," she motioned with her pipe. "Him and the gal, too. But say, +who's that a-comin' down the street there in that little sawed-off +wagon?" + +I looked. It was my fiancée, Grace Sheraton! + +By her side was my friend, Captain Stevenson, and at the other end of +the seat was a fluttering and animated figure that could be no one else +but Kitty. So then I guessed that Stevenson and his wife had come on +during my absence and were visiting at Dixiana. No doubt they had +driven down now for the evening mail. + +Could anything have lacked now to set in worse snarl my already tangled +skein of evil fortune! Out of all the thousand ways in which we several +actors in this human comedy might have gone without crossing each +other's paths, why should Fate have chosen the only one to bring us thus +together? + +Kitty seemed first to spy me, and greeted me with an enthusiastic waving +of her gloves, parasol, veil and handkerchief, all held confusedly, +after her fashion, in one hand. "P-r-r-r-t!" she trilled, +school-girl-like, to attract my attention meanwhile. "Howdy, you man! If +it isn't John Cowles I'm a sinner. Matt, look at him, isn't he old, and +sour, and solemn?" + +Stevenson jumped out and came up to me, smiling, as I passed down the +steps. I assisted his vivacious helpmeet to alight. I knew that all this +tangle would presently force itself one way or the other. So I only +smiled, and urged her and her husband rapidly as I might up the steps +and in at the door, where I knew they would immediately be surprised and +fully occupied. Then again I approached Grace Sheraton where she still +sat, somewhat discomfited at not being included in these plans, yet not +unwilling to have a word with me alone. + +"You sent me no word," began she, hurriedly. "I was not expecting you +to-day; but you have been gone more than two weeks longer than you said +you would be." The reproach of her voice was not lost to me. + +Stevenson had run on into the tavern after his first greeting to me, and +presently I heard his voice raised in surprise, and Kitty's excited +chatter. I heard Colonel Meriwether's voice answering. I heard another +voice. + +"Who is in there?" asked Grace Sheraton of me, curiously. I looked her +slowly and fully in the face. + +"It is Colonel Meriwether," I answered. "He has come on unexpectedly +from the West. His daughter is there also, I think. I have not yet seen +her." + +"That woman!" breathed Grace Sheraton, sinking back upon her seat. Her +eye glittered as she turned to me. "Oh, I see it all now--you have been +with them--_you have met her again!_ My God! I could kill you both--I +could--I say I could!" + +"Listen," I whispered to her, putting a hand on her wrist firmly. "You +are out of your head. Pull up at once. I have not seen or heard from +either of them. I did not know they were coming, I tell you." + +"Oh, I say, Cowles," sang out Stevenson, at that moment running out, +flushed and laughing. "What do you think, here's my Colonel come and +caught me at my leave of absence! He's going across the mountains, over +to his home in Albemarle. We're all to be at Henry together. But I +suppose you met them--" + +"No, not yet," I said. "I've just got in myself." + +We both turned to the girl sitting pale and limp upon the seat of the +wagonette. I was glad for her sake that the twilight was coming. + +The courage of her family did not forsake Grace Sheraton. I saw her +force her lips to smile, compel her face to brighten as she spoke to +Captain Stevenson. + +"I have never met any of the Meriwethers. Will you gentlemen present +me?" + +I assisted her to alight, and at that time a servant came and stood at +the horse's head. Stevenson stepped back to the door, not having as yet +mentioned my presence there. + +There came out upon the gallery as he entered that other whose presence +I had for some moments known, whom I knew within the moment I must +meet--Ellen! + +Her eyes fell upon me. She stepped back with a faint exclamation, +leaning against the wall, her hands at her cheeks as she stared. I do +not know after that who or what our spectators were. I presume Stevenson +went on into the house to talk with Colonel Meriwether, whom I did not +see at all at that time. + +The first to speak was Grace Sheraton. Tall, thin, darker than ever, it +seemed to me, and now with eyes which flickered and glittered as I had +never seen them, she approached the girl who stood there shrinking. "It +is Miss Meriwether? I believe I should know you," she began, holding out +her hand. + +"This is Miss Grace Sheraton," I said to Ellen, and stopped. Then I drew +them both away from the door and from the gallery, walking to the +shadows of the long row of elms which shaded the street, where we would +be less observed. + +For the first time in my life I saw the two together and might compare +them. Without my will or wish I found my eyes resting upon Ellen. +Without my will or wish, fate, nature, love, I know not what, made +selection. + +Ellen had not as yet spoken. "Miss Sheraton," I repeated to her finally, +"is the lady to whom I am engaged to be married." + +The vicious Sheraton temper broke bounds. There was more than half a +sneer on my fiancée's face. "I should easily know who this lady is," she +said. + +Ellen, flushed, perturbed, would have returned to the gallery, but I +raised my hand. Grace Sheraton went on. "An engagement is little. You +and he, I am advised, lived as man and wife, forgetting that he and I +were already pledged as man and wife." + +"That is not true!" broke in Ellen, her voice low and even. She at least +had herself in hand and would tolerate no vulgar scene. + +"I could not blame either of you for denying it." + +"It was Gordon Orme that told her," I said to Ellen. + +She would not speak or commit herself, except to shake her head, and to +beat her hands softly together as I had seen her do before when in +distress. + +"A gentleman must lie like a gentleman," went on Grace Sheraton, +mercilessly. "I am here to congratulate you both." + +I saw a drop of blood spring from Ellen's bitten lip. + +"What she says is true," I went on to Ellen. "It is just as Gordon Orme +told your father, and as I admitted to you. I was engaged to be married +to Miss Sheraton, and I am still so engaged." + +Still her small hands beat together softly, but she would not cry out, +she would not exclaim, protest, accuse. I went on with the accusation +against myself. + +"I did not tell you. I had and have no excuse except that I loved you. I +am here now for my punishment. You two shall decide it." + +At last Ellen spoke to my fiancée. "It is true," said she. "I thought +myself engaged to Mr. Cowles. I did not know of you--did not know that +he had deceived me, too. But fortunately, my father found us before it +was too late." + +"Let us spare ourselves details," rejoined Grace Sheraton. "He has +wronged both of us." + +"Yes, he has done wrong," I heard Ellen say. "Perhaps all men do--I do +not want to know. Perhaps they are not always to blame--I do not want to +know." + +The measure of the two women was there in those words, and I felt it. + +"Could you want such a man?" asked Grace Sheraton, bitterly. I saw Ellen +shake her head slowly. I heard her lips answer slowly. "No," she said. +"Could you?" + +I looked to Grace Sheraton for her answer, and as I looked I saw a +strange and ghastly change come over her face. "My God!" she exclaimed, +reaching out a hand against a tree trunk to steady herself, "Your +leavings? No! But what is to become of me!" + +"You wish him?" asked Ellen. "You are entirely free. But now, if you +please, I see no reason why I should trouble you both. Please, now, I +shall go." + +But Grace Sheraton sprang to her side as she turned. I was amazed at her +look. It was entreaty on her face, not anger! She held out her hands to +Ellen, her face strangely distorted. And then I saw Ellen's face also +change. She put out her hand in turn. + +"There," she said, "time mends very much. Let us hope--" Then I saw her +throat work oddly, and her words stop. + +No man may know the speech with which women exchange thought. I saw the +two pass a few paces apart, saw Grace Sheraton stoop and whisper +something. + +It was her last desperate resource, a hazard handsomely taken. It won, +as courage should, or at least as much as a lie may win at any time; for +it was a bitter, daring, desperate shaming lie she whispered to Ellen. + +As Ellen's face turned toward me again I saw a slow, deep scorn invade +it. "If I were free," she said to me, "if you were the last man on +earth, I would not look at you again. You deceived me--but that was only +a broken word, and not a broken life! This girl--indeed she may ask what +will become of her!" + +"I am tired of all these riddles," I broke out, my own anger now +arising, and myself not caring to be made thus sport of petticoats. + +"Your duty is clear," went on my new accuser, flashing out at me. "If +you have a trace of manhood left, then let the marriage be at +once--to-morrow. How dare you delay so long!" She choked in her own +anger, humiliation, scorn--I know not what, blushed in her own shame. + +Orme was right. I have always been a stupid ass. It took me moments to +grasp the amazing truth, to understand the daring stroke by which Grace +Sheraton had won her game. It had cost her much. I saw her standing +there trembling, tearful, suffering, her eyes wet. She turned to me, +waiting for me to save her or leave her damned. + +I would not do it. All the world will say that I was a fool, that I was +in no way bound to any abhorrent compact, that last that any man could +tolerate. Most will say that I should have turned and walked away from +both. But I, who have always been simple and slow of wit, I fear, and +perhaps foolish as to certain principles, now felt ice pass through all +my veins as my resolution came to me. + +I could not declare against the woman who had thus sworn against me. +With horror I saw what grotesque injustice was done to me. I broke out +into a horrible laughter. + +I had said that I had come for my punishment, and here it was for me to +take. I had told Orme that one day I would pay him for my life. Here now +was Orme's price to be paid! If this girl had not sinned with me, she +had done so by reason of me. It was my fault; and a gentleman pays for +his fault in one way or another. There seemed to me, I say, but one way +in which I could pay, I being ever simple and slow of wit. I, John +Cowles, without thinking so far as the swift consequences, must now act +as the shield of the girl who stood there trembling, the girl who had +confessed to her rival her own bitter sin, but who had lied as to her +accomplice in her sin! + +"It is true," I said, turning to Ellen. "I am guilty. I told you I +deserved no mercy, and I ask none. I have not asked Miss Sheraton to +release me from my engagement. I shall feel honored if she will now +accept my hand. I shall be glad if she will set the date early as may +be." + +Night was now coming swiftly from the hills. + +Ellen turned to pass back toward the door. "Your pardon!" I exclaimed to +Grace Sheraton, and sprang after Ellen. + +"Good-by," I said, and held out my hand to her. "Let us end all these +heroics, and do our best. Where is your husband? I want to congratulate +him." + +"My husband!" she said in wonder. "What do you mean?" + +Night, I say, was dropping quickly, like a shroud spread by a mighty +hand. + +"Belknap--" I began. + +"Ah," she said bitterly. "You rate me low--as low as I do you!" + +"But your father told me himself you two were to be married," I broke +out, surprise, wonder, dread, rebellion now in every fiber of my body +and soul. + +"My father loves me dearly," she replied slowly. "But he cannot marry me +until I wish. No, I am not married, and I never will be. Good-by." + +Again I heard my own horrible laughter. + +Night had fallen thick and heavy from the mountains, like a dark, black +shroud. + + + + +CHAPTER XLII + +FACE TO FACE + + +I did not see Colonel Meriwether. He passed on through to his seat in +Albemarle without stopping in our valley longer than over night. Part of +the next morning I spent in writing a letter to my agents at Huntington, +with the request that they should inform Colonel Meriwether at once on +the business situation, since now he was in touch by mail. The +alternative was offered him of taking over my father's interests through +these creditors, accepting them as partners, or purchasing their rights; +or of doing what my father had planned to do for him, which was to care +individually for the joint account, and then to allot each partner a +dividend interest, carrying a clear title. + +All these matters I explained to my mother. Then I told her fully what +had occurred at the village the night previous between Ellen Meriwether +and my fiancée. She sat silent. + +"In any case," I concluded, "it would suit me better if you and I could +leave this place forever, and begin again somewhere else." + +She looked out of the little window across our pleasant valley to its +edge, where lay the little church of the Society of Friends. Then she +turned to me slowly, with a smile upon her face. "Whatever thee says," +was her answer. "I shall not ask thee to try to mend what cannot be +mended. Thee is like thy father," she said. "I shall not try to change +thee. Go, then, thy own way. Only hear me, thee cannot mend the +unmendable by such a wrongful marriage." + +But I went; and under my arm I bore a certain roll of crinkled, hairy +parchment. + +This was on the morning of Wednesday, in November, the day following the +national election in the year 1860. News traveled more slowly then, but +we in our valley might expect word from Washington by noon of that day. +If Lincoln won, then the South would secede. Two nations would +inevitably be formed, and if necessary, issue would be joined between +them as soon as the leaders could formulate their plans for war. This +much was generally conceded; and it was conceded also that the South +would start in, if war should come, with an army well supplied with +munitions of war and led by the ablest men who ever served under the old +flag--men such as Lee, Jackson, Early, Smith, Stuart--scores and +hundreds trained in arms at West Point or at the Virginia Military +Institute at Lexington--men who would be loyal to their States and to +the South at any cost. + +Our State was divided, our valley especially so, peace sentiment there +being strong. The entire country was a magazine needing but a spark to +cause explosion. It was conceded that by noon we should know whether or +not this explosion was to come. Few of us there, whether Unionists or +not, had much better than contempt for the uncouth man from the West, +Lincoln, that most pathetic figure of our history, later loved by North +and South alike as greatest of our great men. We did not know him in our +valley. All of us there, Unionists or Secessionists, for peace or for +war, dreaded to hear of his election. + +Colonel Sheraton met me at the door, his face flushed, his brow +frowning. He was all politics. "Have you any news?" he demanded. "Have +you heard from Leesburg, Washington?" + +"Not as yet," I answered, "but there should be messages from Leesburg +within the next few hours." We had no telegraph in our valley at that +time. + +"I have arranged with the postmaster to let us all know up here, the +instant he gets word," said Sheraton. "If that black abolitionist, +Lincoln, wins, they're going to fire one anvil shot in the street, and +we can hear it up this valley this far. If the South wins, then two +anvils, as fast as they can load. So, Mr. Cowles, if we hear a single +shot, it is war--_war_, I tell you! + +"But come in," he added hastily. "I keep you waiting. I am glad to see +you this morning, sir. From my daughter I learn that you have returned +from a somewhat successful journey--that matters seem to mend for you. +We are all pleased to learn it. I offer you my hand, sir. My daughter +has advised me of her decision and your own. Your conduct throughout, +Mr. Cowles, has been most manly, quite above reproach. I could want no +better son to join my family." His words, spoken in ignorance, cut me +unbearably. + +"Colonel Sheraton," I said to him, "there is but one way for a man to +ride, and that is straight. I say to you; my conduct has not been in the +least above reproach, and your daughter has not told you all that she +ought to have told." + +We had entered the great dining room as we talked, and he was drawing me +to his great sideboard, with hospitable intent to which at that moment I +could not yield. Now, however, we were interrupted. + +A door opened at the side of the room, where a narrow stairway ran down +from the second floor, and there appeared the short, stocky figure, the +iron gray mane, of our friend, Dr. Samuel Bond, physician for two +counties thereabout, bachelor, benefactor, man of charity, despite his +lancet, his quinine and his calomel. + +"Ah, Doctor," began Colonel Sheraton, "here is our young friend back +from his travels again. I'm going to tell you now, as I think I may +without much risk, that there is every hope the Cowles family will win +in this legal tangle which has threatened them lately--win handsomely, +too. We shall not lose our neighbors, after all, nor have any strangers +breaking in where they don't belong. Old Virginia, as she was, and +forever, gentlemen! Join us, Doctor. You see, Mr. Cowles," he added to +me, "Doctor Bond has stopped in as he passed by, for a look at my +daughter. Miss Grace seems just a trifle indisposed this +morning--nothing in the least serious, of course." + +We all turned again, as the front door opened. Harry Sheraton entered. + +"Come, son," exclaimed his father. "Draw up, draw up with us. Pour us a +drink around, son, for the success of our two families. You, Doctor, are +glad as I am, that I know." + +We stood now where we had slowly advanced toward the sideboard. But +Doctor Bond did not seem glad. He paused, looking strangely at me and at +our host. "Harry," said he, "suppose you go look in the hall for my +saddle-bags--I have left my medicine case." + +The young man turned, but for no reason apparently, stopped at the door, +and presently joined us again. + +"May I ask for Miss Grace this morning, Doctor," I began, politely. + +"Yes," interjected Colonel Sheraton. "How's the girl? She ought to be +with us this minute--a moment like this, you know." + +Doctor Bond looked at us still gravely. He turned from me to Colonel +Sheraton, and again to Harry Sheraton. "Harry," said he, sternly. +"Didn't you hear me? Get out!" + +We three were left alone. "Jack, I must see you a moment alone," said +Doctor Bond to me. + +"What's up," demanded Colonel Sheraton. "What's the mystery? It seems to +me I'm interested in everything proper here. What's wrong, Doctor? Is my +girl sick?" + +"Yes," said the physician. + +"What's wrong?" + +"She needs aid," said the old wire-hair slowly. + +"Can you not give it, then? Isn't that your business?" + +"No, sir. It belongs to another profession," said Doctor. Bond, dryly, +taking snuff and brushing his nose with his immense red kerchief. + +Colonel Sheraton looked at him for the space of a full minute, but got +no further word. "Damn your soul, sir!" he thundered, "explain yourself, +or I'll make you wish you had. What do you mean?" He turned fiercely +upon me. + +"By God, sir, there's only one meaning that I can guess. You, sir, +what's wrong? _Are you to blame_?" + +I faced him fairly now. "I am so accused by her," I answered slowly. + +"What! _What_!" He stood as though frozen. + +"I shall not lie about it. It is not necessary for me to accuse a girl +of falsehood. I only say, let us have this wedding, and have it soon. I +so agreed with Miss Grace last night." + +The old man sprang at me like a maddened tiger now, his eyes glaring +about the room for a weapon. He saw it--a long knife with ivory handle +and inlaid blade, lying on the ledge where I myself had placed it when I +last was there. Doctor Bond sprang between him and the knife. I also +caught Colonel Sheraton and held him fast. + +"Wait," I said. "Wait! Let us have it all understood plainly. Then let +us take it up in any way you Sheratons prefer." + +"Stop, I say," cried the stern-faced doctor--as honest a man, I think, +as ever drew the breath of life. He hurled his sinewy form against +Colonel Sheraton again as I released him. "That boy is lying to us both, +I tell you. I say he's not to blame, and I know it. I _know_ it, I say. +I'm her physician. Listen, you, Sheraton--you shall not harm a man who +has lied like this, like a gentleman, to _save_ you and your girl." + +"Damn you both," sobbed the struggling man. "Let me go! Let me alone! +Didn't I _hear_ him--didn't you hear him _admit_ it?" He broke free and +stood panting in the center of the room, we between him and the weapon. +"Harry!" he called out sharply. The door burst open. + +"A gun--my pistol--get me something, boy! Arm yourself--we'll kill +these--" + +"Harry," I called out to him in turn. "Do nothing of the sort! You'll +have me to handle in this. Some things I'll endure, but not all things +always--I swear I'll stand this no longer, from all of you or any of +you. Listen to me. Listen I say--it is as Doctor Bond says." + +So now they did listen, silently. + +"I am guiltless of any harm or wish of harm to any woman of this +family," I went on. "Search your own hearts. Put blame where it belongs. +But don't think you can crowd me, or force me to do what I do not freely +offer." + +"It is true," said Doctor Bond. "I tell you, what he says could not by +any possibility be anything else but true. He's just back home. _He has +been gone all summer._" + +Colonel Sheraton felt about him for a chair and sank down, his gray face +dropped in his hands. He was a proud man, and one of courage. It irked +him sore that revenge must wait. + +"Now," said I, "I have something to add to the record. I hoped that a +part of my story could be hid forever, except for Miss Grace and me +alone. I have not been blameless. For that reason, I was willing, +freely--not through force--to do what I could in the way of punishment +to myself and salvation for her. But now as this thing comes up, I can +no longer shield her, or myself, or any of you. We'll have to go to the +bottom now." + +I flung out on the table the roll which I had brought with me to show +that morning to Grace Sheraton--the ragged hide, holding writings placed +there by my hand and that of another. + +"This," I said, "must be shown to you all. Colonel Sheraton, I have been +very gravely at fault. I was alone for some months in the wilderness +with another woman. I loved her very much. I forgot your daughter at +that time, because I found I loved her less. Through force of +circumstances I lived with this other woman very closely for some +months. We foresaw no immediate release. I loved her, and she loved +me--the only time I knew what love really meant, I admit it. We made +this contract of marriage between us. It was never enforced. We never +were married, because that contract was never signed by us both. Here it +is. Examine it." + +It lay there before us. I saw its words again stare up at me. I saw +again the old pictures of the great mountains; and the cloudless sky, +and the cities of peace wavering on the far horizon. I gazed once more +upon that different and more happy world, when I saw, blurring before my +eyes, the words--_"I, John Cowles--I, Ellen Meriwether--take thee--take +thee--for better, for worse--till death do us part."_ I saw her name, +"_E-l-l-e-n_." + +"Harry," said I, turning on him swiftly. "Your father is old. This is +for you and me, I think. I shall be at your service soon." + +His face paled. But that of his father was now gray, very old and gray. + +"Treachery!" he murmured. "Treachery! You slighted my girl. My God, sir, +she should not marry you though she died! This--" he put out his hand +toward the hide scroll. + +"No," I said to him. "This is mine. The record of my fault belongs to +me. The question for you is only in regard to the punishment. + +"We are four men here," I added, presently, "and it seems to me that +first of all we owe protection to the woman who needs it. Moreover, I +repeat, that though her error is not mine, it was perhaps pride or +sorrow or anger with me which led her to her own fault. It was Gordon +Orme who told her that I was false to her, and added lies about me and +this other woman. It was Gordon Orme, Colonel Sheraton, I do not +doubt--sir, _I found him in your yard, here, at midnight_, when I last +was here. And, sir, there was a light--a light--" I tried to smile, +though I fear my face was only distorted. "I agreed with your daughter +that it was without question a light that some servant had left by +chance at a window." + +I wish never to hear again such a groan as broke from that old man's +lips. He was sunken and broken when he put out his hand to me. "Boy," +said he, "have mercy. Forgive. Can you--could you--" + +"Can you yourself forgive this?" I answered, pointing to the scroll. "I +admit to you I love Ellen Meriwether yet, and always will. Sir, if I +married your daughter, it could only be to leave her within the hour." + +Silence fell upon all of us. Harry set down his glass, and the clink on +the silver tray sounded loud. None moved but Doctor Bond, who, glasses +upon nose, bent over the blurred hide, studying it. + +"Colonel Sheraton," said he at length, "it seems to me that we have no +quarrel here among ourselves. We all want to do what is best done now to +make amends for what has not always been best done. Mr. Cowles has given +every proof we could ask--we could not ask more of any man--you have no +right to ask so much. He wishes, at great cost to himself, I think, to +do what he can to save your girl's happiness and honor. He admits his +own fault." He looked at me, savagely shaking a finger, but went on. + +"Perhaps I, a physician, unfortunately condemned to see much of the +inner side of human nature, am as well equipped as any to call him more +guiltless than society might call him. I say with him, let him who is +without guilt first cast a stone. Few of us are all we ought to be, but +why? We speak of double lives--why, we all lead double lives--the entire +world leads a double life; that of sex and of society, that of nature +and of property. I say to you, gentlemen, that all the world is double. +So let us be careful how we adjudge punishment; and let us be as fair to +our neighbor as we are to ourselves. This is only the old, old question +of love and the law. + +"But wait a minute--" he raised a hand as Colonel Sheraton stirred. "I +have something else to say. As it chances, I am curious in other +professions than my own sometimes--I read in the law sometimes, again in +theology, literature. I wish to be an educated man so far as I may be, +since a university education was denied me. Now, I say to you, from my +reading in the law, a strong question arises whether the two who wrote +this covenant of marriage are not at this moment _man and wife_!" He +rapped a finger on the parchment. + +A sigh broke in concert from all within that room. The next moment, I +know not how, we were all four of us bending above the scroll. "See +there," went on the old doctor. "There is a definite, mutual promise, a +consideration moving from each side, the same consideration in each +case, the promise from each bearing the same intent and value, and +having the same qualifying clauses. The contract is definite; it is +dated. It is evidently the record of a unanimous intent, an identical +frame of mind between the two making it at that time. It is signed and +sealed in full by one party, no doubt in his own hand. It is written and +acknowledged by the other party in her own hand--" + +"But not _signed_!" I broke in. "See, it is not _signed_. She said she +would sign it one letter each week--weeks and weeks--until at last, +this, which was only our engagement, should with the last letter make +our marriage. Gentlemen," I said to them, "it was an honest contract. It +was all the formality we could have, all the ceremony we could have. It +was all that we could do. I stand before you promised to two women. +Before God I was promised to one. I loved her. I could do no more--" + +"It was enough," said Doctor Bond, dryly, taking snuff. "It was a +wedding." + +"Impossible!" declared Colonel Sheraton. + +"Impossible? Not in the least," said the doctor. "It can be invalid only +upon one ground. It might be urged that the marriage was not +consummated. But in the courts that would be a matter of proof. Whatever +our young friend here might say, a court would say that consummation was +very probable. + +"I say, as this stands, the contract is a definite one, agreeing to do a +definite thing, namely, to enter into the state of marriage. The +question of the uncompleted signature does not invalidate it, nor indeed +come into the matter at all. It is only a question whether the +signature, so far as it goes, means the identity of the Ellen Meriwether +who wrote the clause preceding it. It is a question of identification +solely. Nothing appears on this contract stipulating that she must sign +her full name before the marriage can take place. That verbal agreement, +which Mr. Cowles mentions, of signing it letter by letter, does not in +law affect a written agreement. This written contract must, in the law, +be construed just as It stands, and under its own phrasing, by its own +inherent evidence. The obvious and apparent evidence is that the person +beginning this signature was Ellen Meriwether--the same who wrote the +last clause of the contract. The handwriting is the same--the +supposition is that it is the same, and the burden of proof would lie on +the one denying it. + +"Gentlemen," he went on, taking a turn, hands behind back, his big red +kerchief hanging from his coat tails, "I take Mr. Cowles' word as to +acts before and after this contract. I think he has shown to us that he +is a gentleman. In that world, very different from this world, he acted +like a gentleman. In that life he was for the time freed of the covenant +of society. Now, in this life, thrown again under the laws of society, +he again shows to us that he is a gentleman, here as much as there. We +cannot reason from that world to this. I say--yes, I hope I am big +enough man to say--that we cannot blame him, arguing from that world to +this. We can exact of a man that he shall be a gentleman in either one +of those worlds; but we cannot exact it of him to be the _same_ +gentleman in _both_! + +"Now, the question comes, to which of these worlds belongs John Cowles? +The court will say that this bit of hide is a wedding ceremony. +Gentlemen," he smiled grimly, "we need all the professions here +to-day--medicine, ministry and law! At least, Colonel Sheraton, I think +we need legal counsel before we go on with any more weddings for this +young man here." + +"But there is no record of this," I said. "There is no execution in +duplicate." + +"No," said the doctor. "It is only a question of which world you elect." +I looked at him, and he added, "It is also only a question of morals. If +this record here should be destroyed, you would leave the other party +with no proof on her side of the case." + +He brushed off his nose again, and took another short turn from the +table, his head dropped in thought. "It is customary," he said as he +turned to me, "to give the wife the wedding certificate. The law, the +ministry, and the profession of medicine, all unite in their estimate of +the relative value of marital faithfulness as between the sexes. It is +the _woman_ who needs the proof. All nature shields the woman's sex. She +is the apple of Nature's eye, and even the law knows that." + +I walked to the mantel and took up the knife that lay there. I returned +to the table, and with a long stroke I ripped the hide in two. I threw +the two pieces into the grate. + +"That is my proof," said I, "that Ellen Meriwether needs no marriage +certificate! I am the certificate for that, and for her!" + +Colonel Sheraton staggered to me, his hand trembling, outstretched. +"You're free to marry my poor girl--" he began. + +"It is proof also," I went on, "that I shall never see Ellen Meriwether +again, any more than I shall see Grace Sheraton again after I have +married her. What happens after that is not my business. It is my +business, Colonel Sheraton, and yours--possibly even your son's"--I +smiled at Harry--"to find Gordon Orme. I claim him first. If I do not +kill him, then you--and you last, Harry, because you are least fit." + +"Gentlemen, is it all agreed?" I asked. I tossed the knife back on the +mantel, and turned my back to it and them. + +"Jack," said my old wire-hair, Doctor Bond, "I pray God I may never see +this done again to any man. I thank God the woman I loved died years +ago. She was too good--they're all too good--I, a physician, say they +are all too good. Only in that gap between them and us lies any margin +which permits you to lie to yourself at the altar. To care for them--to +shield them--they, the apple of the Eye--that is why we men are here." +He turned away, his face working. + +"Is it agreed?" I asked of Colonel Sheraton, sternly. + +His trembling hand sought mine. "Yes," he said. "Our quarrel is +discharged, and more than so. Harry, shake hands with Mr. Cowles. By +God! men, our quarrel now runs to Gordon Orme. To-morrow we start for +Carolina, where we had his last address. Mr. Cowles, my heart bleeds, it +bleeds, sir, for you. But for her also--for her up there. The courts +shall free you quickly and quietly, as soon as it can be done. It is you +who have freed us all. You have been tried hard. You have proved +yourself a man." + +But it was not the courts that freed us. None of us ever sought actual +knowledge of what agency really freed us. Indeed, the time came swiftly +for us all to draw the cloak of secrecy about one figure of this story, +and to shield her in it forever. + +Again we were interrupted. The door at the stair burst open. A black +maid, breathless, broke into the room. + +[Illustration: WHEN THE WAY OF WOMEN PASSETH A MAN'S UNDERSTANDING] + +"She's a-settin' there--Miss Grace just a-settin' there--" she began, +and choked and stammered. + +"What is it?" cried Doctor Bond, sharply, and sprang at the door. I +heard him go up the stairs lightly as though he were a boy. We all +followed, plying the girl with questions. + +"I went in to make up the room," blubbered she, "an' she was just +settin' there, an' I spoke to her an' she didn't answer--an' I called to +her, an' she didn't answer--she's just a-settin' there right _now_." + +As a cloud sweeps over a gray, broken moor, so now horror swept upon us +in our distress and grief. We paused one moment to listen, then went on +to see what we knew we must see. + +I say that we men of Virginia were slow to suspect a woman. I hope we +are still slower to gossip regarding one. Not one of us ever asked +Doctor Bond a question, fearing lest we might learn what perhaps he +knew. + +He stood beyond her now, his head bowed, his hand touching her wrist, +feeling for the pulse that was no longer there. The solemnity of his +face was louder than speech. It seemed to me that I heard his silent +demand that we should all hold our peace forever. + +Grace Sheraton, her lips just parted in a little crooked smile, such as +she might have worn when she was a child, sat at a low dressing table, +staring directly into the wide mirror which swung before her at its +back. Her left arm lay at length along the table. Her right, with its +hand under her cheek and chin, supported her head, which leaned but +slightly to one side. She gazed into her own face, into her own heart, +into the mystery of human life and its double worlds, I doubt not. She +could not tell us what she had learned. + +Her father stepped to her side, opposite the old doctor. I heard sobs as +they placed her upon her little white bed, still with that little +crooked smile upon her face, as though, she were young, very young +again. + +I went to the window, and Harry, I think, was close behind me. Before me +lay the long reaches of our valley, shimmering in the midday autumn sun. +It seemed a scene of peace and not of tragedy. + +But even as I looked, there came rolling up our valley, slowly, almost +as though visible, the low, deep boom of the signal gun from the village +below. It carried news, the news from America! + +We started, all of us. I saw Colonel Sheraton half look up as he stood, +bent over the bed. Thus, stunned by horror as we were, we waited. It was +a long time, an interminable time, moments, minutes, it seemed to me, +until there must have been thrice time for the repetition of the signal, +if there was to be one. + +There was no second sound. The signal was alone, single; ominous. + +"Thank God! Thank God!" cried Colonel Sheraton; swinging his hands +aloft, tears rolling down his old gray cheeks. "_It is war_! Now we may +find forgetfulness!" + + + + +CHAPTER XLIII + +THE RECKONING + + +So it was war. We drew apart into hostile camps. By midwinter South +Carolina, Mississippi, Georgia, Alabama, Florida, Louisiana, Texas, had +withdrawn from the Union. There arose two capitals, each claiming a +government, each planning war: Washington and Richmond. + +As for me, I had seen the flag on our far frontiers, in wide, free +lands. It was a time when each must choose for himself. I knew with whom +my own lot must be cast. I pledged myself to follow the flag of the +frontier, wherever it might go. + +During the winter I busied myself, and when the gun of Sumpter came on +that sad day of April, I was ready with a company of volunteers who had +known some months of drill, at least, and who had been good enough to +elect me for their captain. Most of my men came from the mountains of +Western Virginia, where geography made loyalty, and loyalty later made a +State. I heard, remotely, that Colonel Meriwether would not join the +Confederacy. Some men of Western Virginia and Eastern Kentucky remained +with the older flag. Both the Sheratons, the old Colonel and his son +Harry, were of course for the South, and early in January they both left +home for Richmond. On the other hand, again, our friend Captain +Stevenson stood for the Federal government; and so I heard, also +indirectly, did young Belknap of the Ninth Dragoons, Regulars, a gallant +boy who swiftly reached distinction, and died a gallant man's death at +Shiloh later on. + +My mother, all for peace, was gray and silent over these hurrying +events. She wept when she saw me in uniform and belt. "See," she said, +"we freed our slaves long ago. We thought as the North thinks. This war +is not for the Society of Friends." But she saw my father's blood in me +again, and sighed. "Go, then," she said. + +All over the country, North and South, came the same sighed consent of +the women, "Go, then." And so we went out to kill each other, we who +should all have been brothers. None of us would listen. The armies +formed, facing each other on Virginia soil. Soon in our trampled fields, +and broken herds, and ruined crops, in our desolated homes and hearts, +we, brothers in America, learned the significance of war. + +They crossed our little valley, passing through Alexandria, coming from +Harper's Ferry, these raw ninety-day men of McDowell and Patterson, who +thought to end the Confederacy that spring. Northern politics drove them +into battle before they had learned arms. By midsummer all the world +knew that they would presently encounter, somewhere near Manassas, to +the south and west, the forces of Beauregard and Johnston, then lying +within practical touch of each other by rail. + +My men, most of them young fellows used to horse and arms, were brigaded +as infantry with one of the four divisions of McDowell's men, who +converged along different lines toward Fairfax. For nearly a week we lay +near the front of the advance, moving on in snail-like fashion, which +ill-suited most of us Virginians, who saw no virtue in postponing fight, +since we were there for fighting. We scattered our forces, we did not +unite, we did not entrench, we did not advance; we made all the mistakes +a young army could, worst of all the mistake of hesitancy. + +It was not until the twentieth of July that our leaders determined upon +a flanking movement to our right, which was to cross Bull Run at the +Sudley Ford. Even so, we dallied along until every one knew our plans. +Back of us, the battle opened on the following day, a regiment at a +time, with no concert, no _plan_. My men were with this right wing, +which made the turning movement, but four brigades in all. Four other +brigades, those of Howard, Burnside, Keyes and Schenck, were lost +somewhere to the rear of us. Finally, we crossed and reached the left +flank of the Confederates under Beauregard, and swung south along Bull +Run. Our attack was scattering and ill-planned, but by three o'clock of +the next day we were in the thickest of the fighting around the slopes +which led up to the Henry House, back of which lay the Confederate +headquarters. + +I saw the batteries of Rickett and Griffin of our Regulars advance and +take this height against the steadily thickening line of the +Confederates, who had now had full time to concentrate. There came a hot +cavalry charge upon the Zouave regiment on my left, and I saw the +Zouaves lie down in the woods and melt the line of that charge with +their fire, and save the battery for a time. Then in turn I saw that +blunder by which the battery commander allowed Cummings' men--the +Thirty-third Virginia, I think it was--deliberately to march within +stone's throw of them, mistaken for Federal troops. I saw them pour a +volley at short range into the guns, which wiped out their handlers, and +let through the charging lines now converging rapidly upon us. Then, +though it was but my first battle, I knew that our movement must fail, +that our extended line, lying upon nothing, supported by nothing, must +roll back in retreat along a trough road, where the horses and guns +would mow us down. + +Stuart's men came on, riding through us as we broke and scattered. +Wheat's Louisiana Tigers came through our remnants as well. We had no +support. We did not know that back of the hill the Confederate recruits +were breaking badly as ourselves, and running to the rear. We were all +new in war. We of the invading forces caught the full terror of that +awful panic which the next day set the North in mourning, and the South +aflame with a red exultation. + +All around us our lines wavered, turned and fled. But to some, who knew +the danger of the country back of us, it seemed safer to stay than to +run. To that fact I owe my life, and at least a little satisfaction that +some of us Virginians held our line for a time, even against those other +Virginians who came on at us. + +We were scattered in a thin line in cover of heavy timber, and when the +pursuit came over us we killed a score of their men after they had +passed. Such was the confusion and the madness of the pursuit, that they +rolled beyond our broken line like a wave, scarce knowing we were there. +Why I escaped I do not know, for I was now easily visible, mounted on a +horse which I had caught as it came through the wood riderless. I was +passing along our little front, up and down, as best I could in the +tangle. + +The pursuit went through us strung out, scattered, as disorganized as +our own flight. They were practically over us and gone when, as I rode +to the right flank of the remaining splinter of my little company, I +saw, riding down upon us, a splendid soldier, almost alone, and +apparently endeavoring to reach his command after some delay at the +rear. He was mounted on a fine horse--a great black animal. His tall +figure was clad in the gray uniform of the Confederates, with a black +hat sweeping back from his forehead. He wore cavalry boots and deep +gauntleted gloves, and in all made a gallant martial figure as he rode. +A few of our men, half witless with their terror, crossed his path. I +saw him half rise, once, twice, four times, standing in the stirrups to +enforce his saber cuts, each one of which dropped a man. He and his +horse moved together, a splendid engine of ruthless, butchery. + +"Look out, Cap!" I heard a squeaking voice behind me call, and looking +down, I saw one of my men, his left arm hanging loose, resting his gun +across a log with his right. "Git out 'o the way," he repeated. "I'm +goin' to kill him." It was that new-made warrior, Andrew Jackson +McGovern, who had drifted back into our valley from some place, and +joined my company soon after its organization. I ordered the boy now to +drop his gun. "Leave him alone!" I cried. "He belongs to me." + +It was Gordon Orme. At last, fate had relented for me. My enemy was at +hand. No man but Orme could thus ride my old horse, Satan. Now I saw +where the horse had gone, and who it was that owned him, and why Orme +was here. + +I rode out to meet him. The keenness of the coming, encounter for the +time almost caused me to forget my anger. I seem never to have thought +but that fate had brought me there for that one purpose. He saw me +advance, and whirled in my direction, eager as myself; and presently I +saw also that he recognized me, as I did him. + +This is to be said of Gordon Orme, that he feared no man or thing on +earth. He smiled at me now, showing his long, narrow teeth, as he came, +lightly twirling his long blade. Two pistols lay in my holsters, and +both were freshly loaded, but without thought I had drawn my sword for a +weapon, I suppose because he was using his. He was a master of the +sword, I but a beginner with it. + +We rode straight in, and I heard the whistle of his blade as he circled +it about his head like a band of light. As we joined he made a cut to +the left, easily, gently, as he leaned forward; but it came with such +swiftness that had it landed I doubt not my neck would have been shorn +like a robin's. But at least I could ride as well as he or any other +man. I dropped and swerved, pulling out of line a few inches as we +passed. My own blow, back-handed, was fruitless as his. + +We wheeled and came on again, and yet again, and each time he put me on +defense, and each time I learned more of what was before me to do. My +old servant, Satan, was now his servant, and the great black horse was +savage against me as was his rider. Wishing nothing so much as to kill +his own rival, he came each time with his ears back and his mouth open, +wicked in the old blood lust that I knew. It was the fury of his horse +that saved me, I suppose, for as that mad beast bored in, striving to +overthrow my own horse, the latter would flinch away in spite of all I +could do, so that I needed to give him small attention when we met in +these short, desperate charges. I escaped with nothing more than a rip +across the shoulder, a touch on the cheek, on the arm, where his point +reached me lightly, as my horse swerved away from the encounters. I +could not reach Orme at all. + +At last, I know not how, we clashed front on, and his horse bore mine +back, with a scream fastening his teeth in the crest of my mount, as a +dog seizes his prey. I saw Orme's sword turn lightly, easily again +around his head, saw his wrist turn gently, smoothly down and extend in +a cut which was aimed to catch me full across the head. There was no +parry I could think, but the full counter in kind. My blade met his with +a shock that jarred my arm to the shoulder. + +I saw him give back, pull off his mad horse and look at his hand, where +his own sword was broken off, a foot above the hilt. Smiling, he saluted +with it, reigning back his horse, and no more afraid of me than if I +were a child. He did not speak, nor did I. I pulled up my own horse, not +wishing to take the advantage that now was mine, but knowing that he +would not yield--that I must kill him. + +He did so at his own peril who took Orme for a dullard. I watched him +closely. He saluted again with his broken sword, and made as though to +toss it from him, as indeed he did. Then like a flash his hand dropped +to his holster. + +I read his thought, I presume, when he made his second salute. His +motion of tossing away the sword hilt gave me the fraction of time which +sometimes is the difference between life and death. Our fire was almost +at the same instant, but not quite. His bullet cut the epaulet clean +from my left shoulder; but he did not fire again, nor did I. I saw him +straighten up in his saddle, precisely as I had once seen an Indian +chieftain do under Orme's own fire. He looked at me with a startled +expression on his face. + +At that moment there came from the edge of the woods the crack of a +musket. The great horse Satan pitched his head forward and dropped limp, +sinking to his knees. As he rolled he caught his rider under him. I +myself sprung down, shouting out some command toward the edge of the +wood, that they should leave this man to me. + +Whether my men heard me or not I do not know. Perhaps they heard rather +the hoarse shouts of a fresh column in gray which came up in the +pursuit, fagged with its own running. When these new men passed me all +they saw was a bit of wood torn with shot and ball, and in the open two +figures, both dusty and gray, one helping the other from what seemed to +be a fall of his horse. Scenes like that were common. We were not +disturbed by the men of either side. We were alone presently, Gordon +Orme and I. + +I stooped and caught hold of the hind leg of the great black horse, and +even as I had once turned a dead bull, so now I turned this carcass on +its back. I picked up the fallen rider and carried him to the woods, and +there I propped his body against a tree. Slowly he opened his eyes, even +pulled himself up more fully against the support. + +"Thank you, old man," he said. "The horse was deucedly heavy--spoiled +that leg, I think." He pointed to his boot, where his foot lay turned to +one side. "I suffer badly. Be a good fellow and end it." + +I answered him by tossing down one of his own pistols, both of which I +had secured against need. He looked at it, but shook his head. + +"Let's talk it over a bit first," he said. "I'm done. I'll not make any +trouble. Did you ever know me to break parole?" + +"No," said I, and I threw down the other weapon on the ground. "In +mercy to us both, Orme, die. I do not want to kill you now; and you +shall not live." + +"I'm safe enough," he said. "It's through the liver and stomach. I can't +possibly get over it." + +He stared straight ahead of him, as though summoning his will. +"_Swami_!" I heard him mutter, as though addressing some one. + +"There, that's better," he said finally. He sat almost erect, smiling at +me. "It is _Asana_, the art of posture," he said. "I rest my body on my +ribs, my soul on the air. Feel my heart." + +I did so, and drew away my hand almost in terror. It stopped beating at +his will, and began again! His uncanny art was still under his control! + +"I shall be master here for a little while," he said. "So--I move those +hurt organs to ease the flow. But I can't stop the holes, nor mend them. +We can't get at the tissues to sew them fast. After a while I shall +die." He spoke clearly, with utter calmness, dispassionately. I never +saw his like among men. + +I stood by him silently. He put his own hand on his chest. "Poor old +heart," he said. "Feel it work! Enormous pumping engine, tremendous +thing, the heart. Think what it does in seventy years--and all for +what--that we may live and enjoy, and so maybe die. What few minutes I +have now I owe to having trained what most folk call an involuntary +muscle. I command my heart to beat, and so it does." + +I looked down at a strange, fascinating soul, a fearsome personality, +whose like I never knew in all my life. + +"Will you make me a promise?" he said, smiling at me, mocking at me. + +"No," I answered. + +"I was going to ask you, after my death to take my heart and send it +back to my people at Orme Castle, Gordon Arms, in England--you know +where. It would be a kindness to the family." I gazed at him in a sort +of horror, but he smiled and went on. "We're mediaeval to-day as ever we +were. Some of us are always making trouble, one corner or the other of +the world, and until the last Gordon heart comes home to rest, there's +no peace for that generation. Hundreds of years, they've traveled all +over the world, and been lost, and stolen, and hidden. My father's is +lost now, somewhere. Had it come back home to rest, my own life might +have been different. I say, Cowles, couldn't you do that for me? We've +nearly always had some last friend that would--we Gordons." + +"I would do nothing for you as a favor," I answered. + +"Then do it because it is right. I'd rather it should be you. You've a +wrist like steel, and a mind like steel when you set yourself to do a +thing." + +"I say, old man," he went on, a trifle weary now, "you've won. I'm jolly +well accounted for, and it was fair. I hope they'll not bag you when you +try to get out of this. But won't you promise what I've asked? Won't you +promise?" + +It is not for me to say whether or not I made a promise to Gordon Orme, +or to say whether or not things mediaeval or occult belong with us +to-day. Neither do I expect many to believe the strange truth about +Gordon Orme. I only say it is hard to deny those about to die. + +"Orme," I said, "I wish you had laid out your life differently. You are +a wonderful man." + +"The great games," he smiled--"sport, love, war!" Then his face +saddened. "I say, have you kept your other promise to me?" he asked. +"Did you marry that girl--what was her name--Miss Sheraton?" + +"Miss Sheraton is dead." + +"Married?" he asked. + +"No. She died within two months after the night I caught you in the +yard. I should have killed you then, Orme." + +He nodded. "Yes, but at least I showed some sort of remorse--the first +time, I think. Not a bad sort, that girl, but madly jealous. Fighting +blood, I imagine, in that family!" + +"Yes," I said, "her father and brother and I, all three, swore the same +oath." + +"The same spirit was in the girl," he said, nodding again. +"Revenge--that was what she wanted. That's why it all happened. It was +what _I_ wanted, too! You blocked me with the only woman--" + +"Do not speak her name," I said to him, quietly. "The nails on your +fingers are growing blue, Orme. Go with some sort of squaring of your +own accounts. Try to think." + +He shrugged a shoulder. "My Swami said we do not die--we only change +worlds or forms. What! I, Gordon Orme, to be blotted out--to lose my +mind and soul and body and senses--not to be able to _enjoy_. No, +Cowles, somewhere there are other worlds, with women in them. I do not +die--I transfer." But sweat stood on his forehead. + +"As to going, no ways are better than this," he mused, presently. "I +swear I'm rather comfortable now; a trifle numb--but we--I say, we must +all--all go some time, you know. Did you hear me?" he repeated, smiling. +"I was just saying that we must all go, one way or another, you know." + +"I heard you," I said. "You are going now." + +"Yes," he admitted, "one can't hold together forever under a pull like +this. You're an awfully decent sort. Give me a bit of paper. I want to +write." I found him a pencil and some pages of my notebook. + +"To please you, I'll try to square some things," he said. "You've been +so deuced square and straight with me, all along. I'm--I'm Gordon, now, +I'm English. Word of a fighting man, my--my _friend_." + +He leaned forward, peering down at the paper as though he did not +clearly see; but he wrote slowly for a time, absorbed in thought. + +In all the death scenes which our country knew in thousands during those +years, I doubt if any more unbelievable than this ever had occurrence. I +saw the blood soaking all his garments, lying black on the ground about +him. I saw his face grow gray and his nails grow blue, his pallor deepen +as the veins lost their contents. I saw him die. But I swear that he +still sat there, calm as though he did not suffer, and forced his body +to do his will. And--though I ask a rough man's pardon for intruding my +own beliefs--since he used his last superb reserves to leave the truth +behind him, I myself thought that there must be somewhere an undying +instinct of truth and justice, governing even such as Gordon Orme; yes, +I hope, governing such as myself as well. Since then I have felt that +somewhere there must be a great religion written on the earth and in the +sky. As to what this could offer in peace to Gordon Orme I do not say. +His was a vast debt. Perhaps Truth never accepted it as paid. I do not +know. + +There he sat, at last smiling again as he looked up. "Fingers getting +dreadfully stiff. Tongue will go next. Muscles still under the power for +a little time. Here, take this. You're going to live, and this is the +only thing--it'll make you miserable, but happy, too. Good-by. I'll not +stop longer, I think." + +Like a flash his hand shot out to the weapon that lay near him on the +ground. I shrank back, expecting the ball full in my face. Instead, it +passed through his own brain! + +His will was broken as that physical instrument, the brain, wonder seat +of the mysteries of the mind, was rent apart. His splendid mind no +longer ruled his splendid body. His body itself, relaxing, sank forward, +his head at one side, his hand dropping limp. A smile drew down the +corner of his mouth--a smile horrible in its pathos; mocking, and yet +beseeching. + + * * * * * + +At last I rubbed the blood from my own face and stooped to read what he +had written. Then I thanked God that he was dead, knowing how impossible +it would have been elsewise for me to stay my hand. These were the +words: + + "I, Gordon Orme, dying July 21, 1861, confess that I killed John + Cowles, Senior, in the month of April, 1860, at the road near + Wallingford. I wanted the horse, but had to kill Cowles. Later took + the money. I was a secret agent, detailed for work among U.S. Army + men. + + "I, Gordon Orme, having seduced Grace Sheraton, asked John Cowles + to marry her to cover up that act. + + "I, Gordon Orme, appoint John Cowles my executor. I ask him to + fulfill last request. I give him what property I have on my person + for his own. Further, I say not; and being long ago held as dead, I + make no bequests as to other property whatsoever.--Gordon Orme. In + Virginia, U.S.A." + +It was he, then, who had in cold blood killed my father! That horrid +riddle at last was read. In that confession I saw only his intent to +give me his last touch of misery and pain. It was some moments before I +could read all the puzzle of his speech, half of which had promised me +wretchedness, and half happiness. Then slowly I realized what I held in +my hand. It was the proof of his guilt, of my innocence. He had robbed +me of my father. He had given me--what? At least he had given me a +chance. Perhaps Ellen Meriwether would believe! + + * * * * * + +It was my duty to care for the personal belongings of Gordon Orme; but +regarding these matters a soldier does not care to speak. I took from +his coat a long, folded leather book. It was hours later, indeed late +the following morning, before I looked into it. During the night I was +busy making my escape from that fated field. As I came from the rear, +mounted, I was supposed to be of the Confederate forces, and so I got +through the weary and scattered columns of pursuit, already overloaded +with prisoners. By morning I was far on my way toward the Potomac. Then +I felt in my pockets, and opened the wallet I had found en Orme's body. + +It held various memoranda, certain writings in cipher, others in foreign +characters, pieces of drawings, maps and the like, all of which I +destroyed. It contained also, in thin foreign notes, a sum large beyond +the belief of what an ordinary officer would carry into battle; and this +money, for the time, I felt justified in retaining. + +Orme was no ordinary officer. He had his own ways, and his own errand. +His secret, however great it was--and at different times I have had +reason to believe that men high in power on both sides knew how great it +was, and how important to be kept a secret--never became fully known. In +all likelihood it was not his business actually to join in the fighting +ranks. But so at least it happened that his secret went into the unknown +with himself. He was lost as utterly as though he were a dark vision +passing into a darker and engulfing night. If I learned more than most +regarding him, I am not free to speak. He named no heirs beyond myself. +I doubt not it was his wish that he should indeed be held as one who +long ago had died. + +Should Gordon Orme arise from his grave and front me now, I should +hardly feel surprise, for mortal conditions scarce seem to give his +dimensions. But should I see him now, I should fear him no more than +when I saw him last. His page then was closed in my life forever. It was +not for me to understand him. It is not for me to judge him. + + + + +CHAPTER XLIV + +THIS INDENTURE WITNESSETH + + +Within the few days following the battle, the newspapers paused in their +warnings and rebukes on the one side, their paeans of victory on the +other, and turned to the sober business of printing the long lists of +the dead. Then, presently, each section but the more resolved, the North +and South again joined issue, and the war went on. + +As for myself, I was busy with my work, for now my superiors were good +enough to advance me for what they called valor on the field. Before +autumn ended I was one of the youngest colonels of volunteers in the +Federal Army. Thus it was easy for me to find a brief furlough when we +passed near Leesburg on our way to the Blue Ridge Gap, and I then ran +down for a look at our little valley. + +The women now were taking ranks steadfastly as the men. My mother +greeted me, and in spite of all her sorrow, in spite of all the ruin +that lay around us there, I think she felt a certain pride. I doubt if +she would have suffered me to lay aside my uniform. It hung in our home +long after the war was ended, and my Quaker mother, bless her! kept it +whole and clean. + +There were some business matters to be attended to with our friend Dr. +Samuel Bond, who had been charged to handle our estate matters during my +absence. He himself, too old and too busy to serve in either army, had +remained at home, where certainly he had enough to do before the end of +the war, as first one army and then the other swept across Wallingford. + +I found Doctor Bond in his little brick office at the top of the hill +overlooking the village. It was he who first showed me the Richmond +papers with lists of the Confederate dead. Colonel Sheraton's name was +among the first I saw. He had been with Cumming's forces, closely +opposed to my own position at Bull Run. He himself was instantly killed, +and his son Harry, practically at his side, seriously, possibly fatally +wounded, was now in hospital at Richmond. Even by this time we were +learning the dullness to surprise and shock which war always brings. We +had not time to grieve. + +I showed Doctor Bond the last writing of Gordon Orme, and put before him +the Bank of England notes which I had found on Orme's person, and which, +by the terms of his testament, I thought might perhaps belong to me. + +"Could I use any of this money with clean conscience?" I asked. "Could +it honorably be employed in the discharging of the debt Orme left on my +family?" + +"A part of that debt you have already caused him to discharge," the old +doctor answered, slowly. "You would be doing a wrong if you did not +oblige him to discharge the rest." + +I counted out and laid on the desk before him the amount of the funds +which my father's memoranda showed had been taken from him by Orme that +fatal night more than a year ago. The balance of the notes I tossed into +the little grate, and with no more ado we burned them there. + +We concluded our conference in regard to my business matters. I learned +that the coal lands had been redeemed from foreclosure, Colonel +Meriwether having advanced the necessary funds; and as this now left our +debt running to him, I instructed Doctor Bond to take steps to cancel it +immediately, and to have the property partitioned as Colonel Meriwether +should determine. + +"And now, Jack," said my wire-haired old friend to me at last, "when do +you ride to Albemarle? There is something in this slip of paper"--he +pointed to Orme's last will and confession--"which a certain person +ought to see." + +"My duties do not permit me to go and come as I like these days," I +answered evasively. But Dr. Samuel Bond was a hard man to evade. + +"Jack," said he, fumbling in his dusty desk, "here's something _you_ +ought to see. I saved it for you, over there, the morning you threw it +into the fireplace." + +He spread out on the top of the desk a folded bit of hide. Familiar +enough it was to me. + +"You saved but half," I said. "The other half is gone!" + +He pushed a flake of snuff far up his long nose. "Yes," said he quietly. +"I sent it to her some three months ago." + +"What did she say?" + +"Nothing, you fool. What did you expect?" + +"Listen," he went on presently. "Your brain is dull. What say the words +of the law? 'This Indenture Witnesseth!' Now what is an 'indenture'? The +old Romans and the old English knew. They wrote a contract on parchment, +and cut it in two with an indented line, and they gave each party a +half. When the court saw that these two halves fitted--as no other +portions could--then indeed the indenture witnessed. It was its own +proof. + +"Now, my son," he concluded savagely, "if you ever dreamed of marrying +any other woman, damn me if I wouldn't come into court and make this +indenture witness for you _both_--for her as well as you! Go on away +now, and don't bother me any more." + + + + +CHAPTER XLV + +ELLEN + + +Our forces passed up the valley of Virginia and rolled through the old +Rockfish Gap--where once the Knights of the Golden Horn paused and took +possession, in the name of King Charles, of all the land thence to the +South Sea. We overspread all the Piedmont Valley and passed down to the +old town of Charlottesville. It was nearly deserted now. The gay +Southern boys who in the past rode there with their negro servants, and +set at naught good Thomas Jefferson's intent of simplicity in the narrow +little chambers of the old University of Virginia, now were gone with +their horses and their servants. To-day you may see their names in +bronze on the tablets at the University doors. + +I quartered my men about the quiet old place, and myself hunted up an +office-room on one of the rambling streets that wandered beneath the +trees. I was well toward the finish of my morning's work when I heard +the voice of my sentry challenge, and caught an answering word of +indignation in a woman's voice. I stepped to the door. + +A low, single-seated cart was halted near the curb, and one of its +occupants was apparently much angered. I saw heir clutch the long brown +rifle barrel which extended out at the rear over the top of the seat. +"You git out'n the road, man," repeated she, "or I'll take a shot at you +for luck! We done come this fur, and I reckon we c'n go the rest the +way." + +That could be no one but old Mandy McGovern! For the sake of amusement I +should have left her to make her own argument with the guard, had I not +in the same glance caught sight of her companion, a trim figure in close +fitting corduroy of golden brown, a wide hat of russet straw shading her +face, wide gauntlet gloves drawn over her little hands. + +Women were not usual within the Army lines. Women such as this were not +usual anywhere. It was Ellen! + +Her face went rosy red as I hastened to the side of the cart and put +down Mandy's arm. She stammered, unable to speak more connectedly than I +myself. Mandy could not forget her anger, and insisted that she wanted +to see the "boss." + +"I am the Colonel in command right here, Aunt Mandy," I said. "Won't I +do?" + +"You a kunnel?" she retorted. "Looks to me like kunnels is mighty easy +made if you'll do. No, we're atter Ginral Meriwether, who's comin' here +to be the real boss of all you folks. Say, man, you taken away my man +and my boy. Where they at?" + +"With me here," I was glad to answer, "safe, and somewhere not far away. +The boy is wounded, but his arm is nearly well." + +"Ain't got his bellyful o' fightin' yit?" + +"No, both he and Auberry seem to be just beginning." + +"Humph! Reackon they're happy, then. If a man's gettin' three squares a +day and plenty o' fightin', don't see whut more he kin ask." + +"Corporal," I called to my sentry, who was now pacing back and forth +before the door, hiding his mouth behind his hand, "put this woman under +arrest, and hold her until I return. She's looking for privates Auberry +and McGovern, G Company, First Virginia Volunteers. Keep her in my +office while they're sent for. Bring me my bag from the table." + +It was really a pretty fight, that between Mandy and the corporal. The +latter was obliged to call out the guard for aid. "Sick 'em, Pete!" +cried Mandy, when she found her arms pinioned; and at once there darted +out from under the cart a hairy little demon of a dog, mute, mongrelish, +pink-eared, which began silent havoc with the corporal's legs. + +I looked again at that dog. I was ready to take it in my arms and cry +out that it was my friend! It was the little Indian dog that Ellen and I +had tamed! Why, then, had she kept it, why had she brought it home with +her? I doubt which way the contest would have gone, had not Mandy seen +me climb into her vacated seat and take up the reins. "Pete" then +stolidly took up his place under the cart. + +We turned and drove back up the shady street, Ellen and I. I saw her +fingers twisting together in her lap, but as yet she had not spoken. The +flush on her cheek was deeper now. She beat her hands together softly, +confused, half frightened; but she did not beg me to leave her. + +"If you could get away," she began at last, "I would ask you to drive me +back home. Aunt Mandy and I are living there together. Kitty Stevenson's +visiting me--you'll--you'll want to call on Kitty. My father has been in +East Kentucky, but I understand he's ordered here this week. Major +Stevenson is with him. We thought we might get word, and so came on +through the lines." + +"You had no right to do so. The pickets should have stopped you," I +said. "At the same time, I am very glad they didn't." + +"So you are a Colonel," she said after a time, with an Army girl's nice +reading of insignia. + +"Yes," I answered, "I am an officer. Now if I could only be a +gentleman!" + +"Don't!" she whispered. "Don't talk in that way, please." + +"Do you think I could be?" + +"I think you have been," she whispered, all her face rosy now. + +We were now near the line of our own pickets on this edge of the town. +Making myself known, I passed through and drove out into the country +roads, along the edge of the hills, now glorious in their autumn hues. +It was a scene fair as Paradise to me. Presently Ellen pointed to a +mansion house on a far off hill--such a house as can be found nowhere in +America but in this very valley; an old family seat, lying, reserved and +full of dignity, at a hilltop shielded with great oaks. I bethought me +again of the cities of peace I had seen on the far horizons of another +land than this. + +"That is our home," she said. "We have not often been here since +grandfather died, and then my mother. But this is the place that we +Meriwethers all call home." + +Then I saw again what appeal the profession of arms makes to a man--how +strong is its fascination. It had taken the master of a home like this +from a life like this, and plunged him into the hardships and dangers of +frontier war, again into the still more difficult and dangerous +conflicts between great armies. Not for months, for years, had he set +foot on his own sod--sod like ours in Loudoun, never broken by a plow. + +As we approached the gate I heard behind us the sound of galloping +horses. There came up the road a mounted officer, with his personal +escort, an orderly, several troopers, and a grinning body servant. + +"Look--there he comes--it is my father!" exclaimed Ellen; and in a +moment she was out of the cart and running down the road to meet him, +taking his hand, resting her cheek against his dusty thigh, as he sat in +saddle. + +The officer saluted me sharply. "You are outside the lines," said he. +"Have you leave?" + +I saluted also, and caught the twinkle in his eye as I looked into his +face. + +"On detached service this morning, General," I said. "If you please, I +shall report to you within the hour." + +He wheeled his horse and spurred on up along his own grounds, fit master +for their stateliness. But he entered, leaving the gate wide open for us +to pass. + +"Shut the gate, Benjie," said Ellen as I tossed down a coin to the +grinning black. And then to me, "You don't know Benjie? Yes, he's +married again to Kitty's old cook, Annie. They're both here." + +An orderly took our horse when finally we drove up; but at the time I +did not go into the house. I did not ask for Mrs. Kitty Stevenson. A +wide seat lay beneath one of the oaks. We wandered thither, Ellen and I. +The little dog, mute, watchful, kept close at her side. + +"Ellen," said I to her, "the time has come now. I am not going to wait +any longer. Read this." I put into her hand Gordon Orme's confession. + +She read, with horror starting on her face. "What a scoundrel--what a +criminal!" she said. "The man was a demon. He killed your father!" + +"Yes, and in turn I killed him," I said, slowly. Her eyes flashed. She +was savage again, as I had seen her. My soul leaped out to see her +fierce, relentless, exulting that I had fought and won, careless that I +had slain. + +"Orme did all he could to ruin me in every way," I added. "Read on." +Then I saw her face change to pity as she came to the next clause. So +now she knew the truth about Grace Sheraton, and, I hoped, the truth +about John Cowles. + +"Can you forgive me?" she said, brokenly, her dark eyes swimming in +tears, as she turned toward me. + +"That is not the question," I answered, slowly. "It is, can _you_ +forgive _me_?" Her hand fell on my arm imploringly. + +"I have no doubt that I was much to blame for that poor girl's act," I +continued. "The question only is, has my punishment been enough, or can +it be enough? Do you forgive me? We all make mistakes. Am I good enough +for you, Ellen? answer me." + +But she would not yet answer. So I went on. + +"I killed Gordon Orme myself, in fair fight; but he wrote this of his +own free will. He himself told me it would be proof. Is it proof?" + +She put the paper gently to one side of her on the long seat. "I do not +need it," she said. "If it came to question of proof, we have learned +much of these matters, my father and I, since we last met you. But I +have never needed it; not even that night we said good-by. Ah! how I +wanted you back after you had gone!" + +"And your father?" I asked of her, my hand falling on hers. + +"He knows as much as I. Lately he has heard from your friend, Doctor +Bond--we have both learned a great many things. We are sorry. I am +sorry. I have _always_ been sorry." + +"But what more?" I asked. "Ellen!" + +She put out her hands in a sort of terror. "Don't," she said. "I have +put all this away for so long that now--I can't begin again. I can't! I +can't! I am afraid. Do not ask me. Do not. No--no!" + +She started from the seat as though she would have fled in a swift +panic. But now I caught her. + +"Stop!" I exclaimed, rage in all my heart. "I've been a fool long +enough, and now I will have no more of foolishness. I will try no more +to figure niceties. I'll not try to understand a woman. But gentleman or +not, I swear by God! if we were alone again, we two, out there--then I'd +not use you the same the second time whatever you said, or asked, or +pleaded, or argued, I would not listen--not a word would I listen +to--you should do as I said, as I desired. And I say now you _must_, you +_shall_!" + +Anger may have been in my face--I do not know. I crushed her back into +the seat. + +And she--Ellen--the girl I had seen and loved in the desert silences? + +She sank back against the rail with a little sigh as of content, a +little smile as of a child caught in mischief and barred from escape. +Oh, though I lived a thousand years, never would I say I understood a +woman! + +"Now we will end all this," I said, frowning. I caught her by the arm +and led her to the gallery, where I picked up the bag I had left at the +driveway. I myself rang at the door, not allowing her to lead me in. The +orderly came. + +"My compliments to General Meriwether," I said, "and Colonel Cowles +would like to speak with him." + +He came, that tall man, master of the mansion, dusty with his travel, +stern of face, maned like a gray bear of the hills; but he smiled and +reached out his hand. "Come in, sir," he said. And now we entered. + +"It seems you have brought back my girl again. I hope my welcome will be +warmer than it was at Laramie!" He looked at us, from one to the other, +the brown skin about his keen eyes wrinkling. + +"I have certain things to say, General," I began. We were walking into +the hall. As soon as I might, I handed to him the confession of Gordon +Orme. He read it with shut lips. + +"Part of this I knew already," he said, finally, "but not this as to +your father. You have my sympathy--and, sir, my congratulations on your +accounting for such a fiend. There, at least, justice has been served." +He hesitated before continuing. + +"As to some details, I regret that my daughter has been brought into +such matters," he said, slowly. "I regret also that I have made many +other matters worse; but I am very glad that they have now been made +plain. Dr. Samuel Bond, of Wallingford, your father's friend, has +cleared up much of all this. I infer that he has advised you of the +condition of our joint business matters?" + +"Our estate is in your debt General," I said, "but I can now adjust +that. We shall pay our share. After that, the lands shall be divided, or +held jointly as yourself shall say." + +"Why could they not remain as they are?" He smiled at me. "Let me hope +so." + +I turned to Ellen. "Please," I said, "bring me the other half of this." + +I flung open my bag and spread upon the nearest table my half of the +record of our covenant, done, as it had seemed to me, long years ago. +Colonel Meriwether and I bent over the half rigid parchment. I saw that +Ellen had gone; but presently she came again, hesitating, flushing red, +and put into my hands the other half of our indenture. She carried Pete, +the little dog, under her arm, his legs projecting stiffly; and now a +wail of protest broke from Pete, squeezed too tightly in her unconscious +clasp. + +I placed the pieces edge to edge upon the table. The old familiar words +looked up at me again, solemnly. Again I felt my heart choke my throat +as I read: "_I, John Cowles--I, Ellen Meriwether--take thee--take +thee--until death do us part_." + +I handed her a pencil. She wrote slowly, freakishly, having her maiden +will; and it seemed to me still a week to a letter as she signed. But at +last her name stood in full--_E-l-l-e-n M-e-r-i-w-e-t-h-e-r_. + +"General," I said, "this indenture witnesseth! We two are bound by it. +We have 'consented together in holy wedlock.' We have 'witnessed the +same before God.' We have 'pledged our faith, either to other.'" + +He dashed his hand across his eyes; then, with a swift motion, he placed +our hands together. "My boy," said he, "I've always wanted my girl to be +taken by an Army man--an officer and a gentleman. Damn it, sir! I beg +your pardon, Ellen--give me that pencil. I'll sign my own name--I'll +witness this myself! There's a regimental chaplain with our command--if +we can't find a preacher left in Charlottesville." + +"Orderly!" I called, with a gesture asking permission of my superior. + +"Yes, orderly," he finished for me, "get ready to ride to town. We have +an errand there." He turned to us and motioned us as though to +ownership, bowing with grave courtesy as he himself left the room. I +heard the chatter of Mrs. Kitty greet him. I was conscious of a grinning +black face peering in at a window--Annie, perhaps. They all loved Ellen. + +But Ellen and I, as though by instinct, stepped toward the open door, so +that we might again see the mountain tops. + +I admit I kissed her! + + + +***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE WAY OF A MAN*** + + +******* This file should be named 14362-8.txt or 14362-8.zip ******* + + +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: +https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/1/4/3/6/14362 + + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, +set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to +copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to +protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. 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